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jackrrabbit · 3 years

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Adversary /// Overhaul x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: You make a deal with the devil to save your life, but it turns out Overhaul’s not interested in your soul.

A/N: Remember when I said I was going to do a fantasy collab and then dipped for like 9 months? Hahaha…anyway…

@pleasantanathema @ present-mel @shadowworks—if it’s not too late, here’s my part for the Pleasant & Strider Fantasy AU Writing Collab from a million years ago. Go check out the masterlist and gorge yourself on these amazing pieces!!

Tags/Warnings: dubcon, demon fuckery & occult things, big heresy/sacrilege/perversion of religion, sex in a church ft. Catholic sex guilt, other than that it’s not that bad lol, inexperienced reader, mild degradation, shameless camp and demon-fucking clichés, Overhaul calls you “little girl” 👉👈

He doesn’t look like a demon.

Not that you really know what demons are supposed to look like. But…red skin, right? Fangs and claws and swirling masses of bad energy. Maybe cloven hooves for feet. Yes, that’s the Disney version—but even if you didn’t expect a cartoon personification of evil, you didn’t expect this.

He looks like a doctor, you think. Lab coat hanging open, surgery mask pushed down under his jaw, stethoscope draped over his shoulders. No, he’s a little young to really look like a doctor…an intern, you amend, shifting back in your hospital bed. He looks like he fits right in here, not a hair out of place. Except for, you know, the polished black horns curling out of the sides of his skull.

Overhaul. It was written in the book. That’s the only thing you have to call him in your head.

He’s standing in the center of the sigil you drew at the foot of your bed before midnight, surveying the room critically without meeting your gaze. He looks annoyed—that’s not a good sign, is it?—but then again, of course he’s annoyed. You’d be annoyed too if you got summoned out of your cozy hell dimension in the middle of the night. According to the book, you’re lucky he even showed up…although ‘lucky’ isn’t really how you’d describe yourself most days.

“So,” Overhaul says after a long moment of silence in which you question every choice you’ve made in your relatively short life. “You’re dying.”

You nod.

“And you don’t want to be.”

You nod again, wondering if you’re supposed to be contributing more to this conversation. It’s a bit difficult when your mouth is so dry it feels like you’ve been eating dirt, but you suppose being in the presence of an unholy servant of Satan will do that to a person.

“Fine.” He sighs, frowns, and then finally lowers his gaze onto yours—and you shiver.

Those eyes. No human has eyes like that.

“Make me an offer,” Overhaul tells you, and through his open mouth you catch a flash of sharp white teeth.

Okay. Okay. The chirping of the heart monitor speeds up (as if it weren’t obvious enough that you’re terrified) and you fold your knees up to your chest and fidget with your ring and think. He’s giving you a chance to establish parameters. You’re supposed to start with his end of the deal, the thing you want from him. That’s what it said to do in the grimoire, aka the 19th century demonology volume your creepy cousin brought back from her pagan anthropology research trip in rural France. The one you keep hidden under your bed because your mother would burn it if she knew you were reading about summoning demons.

Offer nothing to a hell creature without first telling him your price. You know the words by heart, both the winding calligraphy of the original French from the grimoire and the rushed scrawl of the English translation your cousin left for you in sheets of lined paper layered between the pages of the book for you to read. Really, this is her fault. She was the one who slipped you the book, who told you that it worked, who snuck you the ingredients for the summoning. She was the one who left a bookmark at the chapter on this particular demon, one that specializes in ‘Contrat pour Remédier au Déséquilibre des Quatre Humeurs’, which she said meant a contract to cure any illness. Even his ‘name’ is translated in her hand, practically an afterthought in the margins of the page.

‘Le Malin qui Ravage et Rebâtit’— Overhaul?

You looked up the literal meaning of this phrase on your own. It did not reassure you.

“Girl.” His voice is cold, irate. Your eyes snap back up to his and it feels like that burning gaze is laser-beaming into your skull. “Do not test me. My time is limited…as is yours.”

You swallow. “How long do I have left?”

“Less than a single human year,” he tells you without a trace of sympathy. “Seven months, twelve days, three hours. Or so. You’ll be too exhausted to leave this bed in four months, and the pain will become intolerable in six… By the end, you’ll wish—“

“Stop,” you breathe out. The heart monitor is beeping wildly and you squeeze your knees into your chest, trying to calm down your breathing. “Stop, I—I want to live.”

“Of course you do.” Overhaul’s lip curls. “How very predictable.”

Be specific, you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the stifling disapproval from the man—the demon—in front of you. Something about him (maybe how clean-cut he looks, maybe the indisputable authority in his demeanor) makes you want to impress him. But you didn’t turn your back on your religion—you didn’t draw pagan symbols on the floor in chalk, fill silver cups with various questionable substances (including your own virgin blood), and turn the crucifix your mother hung over your bed upside-down so you could let a demon make you feel guilty for wanting to survive. “I want to be cured. I’m okay with whatever natural death I have instead when I’m older, I just don’t want to die of this illness. I want you to make me healthy.”

“Simple enough. What else?”

‘Simple’? Your heart surges with something you’ve felt very little of since your initial diagnosis—hope. “T-That’s it. Just the cure.”

Overhaul glares at you. “Humans… Every vice in the world available to you, and you limit yourselves to the basest priority of survival.”

“But you can do it? You can cure me?” you persist.

Overhaul steps forward (quiet, so quiet you wonder if he really moved) and holds a hand out to you past the foot of your bed—you hesitate, and a second later you can see the muscles in his hand flex, stretching the latex of his plastic gloves tight over his knuckles.

Just do it. You give him your hand. Carefully. Like you’re scared the contact will burn you. It doesn’t (although his skin feels warmer than yours), but after a moment his grip tightens, sliding down past your hand to circle the fragile bones of your wrist and squeeze.

“Ow?” You wince.

The demon’s eyes flicker closed for a second, lips moving silently like he’s talking to himself—and then he drops your hand unceremoniously back onto your lap. “You could be cured before the sun rises this morning. I doubt your stay in the hospital will extend past the end of the week.”

He sounds bored, voice as flat and passionless as it was earlier, but your heart is soaring. Cured. You’ve lived with this illness for so many years, you can’t remember the last time someone told you you could be cured. And getting out of the hospital that soon? You can just imagine taking down all the decorations from the walls of your room here and setting them up in your old bedroom at home. You could see friends on the weekend and not take an oxygen bag, you could get a job or—or apply to college, you could have a life—

“That is…assuming you have something to offer me in exchange for the cure.”

Your stomach drops. You’d almost forgotten about the other half of the deal.

“Don’t tell me I came all this way for nothing.” Overhaul steps back, and the orange light of the candles you set sends strange shadows over his arrogant face. The fires look brighter now, and you find yourself tracing the lines of those shining black horns. In an odd way, they look natural—so organically framing his temples that you can’t imagine him without them.

“N-No, of course not. I have some money—I mean, my mom has some, and I can get it for you…” Which is half the truth. If you know anything, it’s that your mother’s spent most of her savings on your treatment and care. You probably have more debt than you have money in the bank right now—you’d try to get rid of that, too, if you hadn’t read in the book how important it is to keep your request as simple and straightforward as possible.

…Although it’s apparently not enough. Overhaul’s eyes narrow, molten gold irises carved into slits. “Even if I had a use for human money, do you really believe your life is worth so little?”

“No—no,” you say quickly. “I just thought—in case you were interested—”

The air crackles with energy, the candle flames spark bright blood-red, and the hair on your arms stands straight up. “I am not.”

“Okay! I get it.” You wave your hands back and forth, pulling your IV line from side to side with the motion. The book was very clear about staying calm and rational while you work out the terms of the deal, but that’s easier said than done when you have a real live (live?) hell creature in front of you. You always knew this was going to be the hard part—all the stories say there’s only one thing that a demon would be interested in, and no matter how inviting the prospect of living past this illness is, you know you’d rather die than sell your immortal soul to the devil. “I’ll give you anything except my soul! And—and don’t hurt anyone I care about, or— just don’t hurt anyone, okay? Other than that, if there’s anything I can give you, I will.”

Overhaul’s lip curls, baring a thin strip of those unnaturally sharp canines. “And is your soul really so valuable?”

This throws you for a loop. Isn’t that the standard deal? A soul for a wish? That’s how it’s supposed to work—at least in this twisted version of reality where you can summon a demon to perform unholy miracles for you. But if you think about it, it doesn’t really make sense, does it? Why would your soul be valuable to him? You can’t form an argument, especially since you’re not willing to barter it away in the first place.

Your mouth is pursed open as you search for a response, but Overhaul doesn’t seem willing to wait. A gloved hand wraps its way around the railing at the side of your bed, and he leans in closer. “Little girl…what makes you think you possess anything I desire?”

Little girl. You’re not a little girl, you’re a grown woman—and yet there’s no untruth in the statement. In front of him you feel insignificant, immature, weak. You have nothing real to offer, and something tells you that you’re not going to get rid of the demon you summoned without a sacrifice you’re not willing to make.

You twist your ring around your finger—the nervous habit you haven’t bothered to break because you’ve always had more important things to worry about—and the glint of silver in the candlelight must catch Overhaul’s eye because before you even notice him moving, your delicate hand is trapped in his larger one to give him a better view of the tiny piece of jewelry. “What is this?”

“It’s—um, a ring. A purity ring.” Has he never seen one before? Well…actually, that makes sense.

Overhaul turns your hand over in his without touching the band of silver. He’s looking at it closely, inspecting the lovingly engraved cross in the design and the inscription on the other side. “Matthew 5:8,” he reads out.

“…Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” you recite cautiously. It feels wrong to speak the words in front of him, but somehow you can’t help yourself.

Overhaul’s hand doesn’t leave yours. “This ring is important to you.”

“It’s a symbol of a—a promise I made to God. To save myself for my future husband.”

“To ‘save yourself’? To save what?”

You can’t believe you’re explaining this to a literal demon. You close your eyes and inhale slowly and taste smoke. “My…virginity. It’s a promise that I won’t have sex until I enter into a biblical marriage.”

At this, Overhaul is quiet. You give him a moment to answer, half expecting him to question why you think God cares about your sexual status (honestly, you’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered this yourself), but he stays quiet until you peek up at him to try and gauge the look on his coldly handsome face.

He’s still staring at the ring. He hasn’t touched it—maybe he can’t, because of the cross?—and through the latex, his skin feels hotter than a human’s is supposed to be.

“Is there…” you start, but you trail off when you realize you have nothing to ask. You give a little tug to try and take your hand away and you’re surprised when your wrist actually slides out of his grip to fall back on the nest of sheets in your lap. You didn’t think he’d let you go so easily.

Overhaul turns his head to the side, eyes drilling into you so you feel like you should lower your gaze. The candlelight flickers in strange shadows over his horns. “This will do,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“In exchange for your cure.” The demon taps his own left ring finger, the place where the purity ring sits on your hand, and your heart soars. He actually wants that? It’s just a simple silver band, not worth much, but you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it has some special significance because of the religious connotation. Your mother will be angry you’ve lost it, but you’re happy to cope with that if it means living to actually get married!

“Yes!” you blurt out before he has a chance to rethink his offer. Sure, you’ll miss the purity ring—you’ve had it since you were a kid, after all—but there’s no question you’re getting the better end of this deal. At least in your opinion.

Something flashes through his yellow eyes, something you don’t even want to try and identify. “The contract, then.”

You barely have time to notice that his voice has gentled, that it’s practically silken in comparison to before, when the candlelight flickers again and suddenly the contract is everywhere. Everywhere. Writing appears on every surface in the room, covering the walls, stretching over the ceiling, coiling around the sides of the hospital equipment and decorating your bedsheets until you and Overhaul are the only untouched surfaces in sight. The characters are inscribed in red, dark red like—don’t think about that, you tell yourself squeamishly. You can make out some of the letters, even a word here or there—French, you recognize, mixed with what looks like Latin and interspersed with what you can only guess are runes.

“I can’t read this,” you tell him, fidgeting with your ring for what you now realize will be the last time.

“I only need your name,” he purrs, and then you feel a fragile weight in your hand: a feather, pearl-black and glossy and too large to belong to any bird you can think of, its angled tip glistening with wet ink. There’s an empty space in the writing before you, and Overhaul’s gloved hand comes to yours again to guide you into place.

This feels wrong…then again, of course it does. Even if you’re getting off relatively easy and just losing your ring rather than your soul, you’re still making a deal with a demon. You sign your name, forcing yourself to think about the future you have ahead of you rather than a disapproving white-bearded caricature of The Man Upstairs wagging his finger at you for haggling with a literal servant of Satan. People have done worse things to survive, haven’t they? It’s just a ring.

You set the feather down and Overhaul sighs, thick black eyelashes obscuring his intense gaze for a moment—and then the contract is gone, leaving your hospital room as blank and sterile as it’s supposed to be (well, aside from the candles and all the other ritual stuff you threw together to summon a demon in the first place).

“Are you going to cure—heal me now?” you ask.

“…Patience, little girl.” He’s pulling his glove off, peeling it down his fingers to bare the pale skin of his hand. You catch your breath and wonder what this is going to feel like, and then the tips of his fingers meet your cheek and—

you stop breathing.

It doesn’t hurt.

Or if it does, you don’t remember the pain a second later when breath floods back into your lungs. What you do feel is energy. Strength in your muscles, blood pumping through your veins, every inhale and exhale as light as a bird and freer. You feel healthy. You’re surprised you even remember what health feels like but you do: it’s like you’ve only been half alive, and now life is surging into you and through you and around you, bubbling up in your core like a spring overflowing. You blink rapidly, thinking you might cry from the sheer pleasure of it, but when you open your mouth it’s laughter that comes out. You’re healthy. You’re alive. You barely notice the IV line literally falling off of your skin because the hole where it entered your vein is sealed shut and healed perfectly.

No more needles. No more hospitals. Even without all the monitors beeping out your heart rate and measuring your vitals, there’s not a shred of doubt in your mind that you’re cured.

“Thank you!” you laugh, looking up at Overhaul and for the first time, not caring that he’s evil incarnate. “I feel—I’m okay! It worked!”

“Of course it did.” His expression is inscrutable, but he lets you have a few moments to enjoy your newfound health.

You roll your shoulders back, flex each muscle you can isolate one by one to test, make fists with your fingers and then run them over your hair, which is already thicker and shinier than it was a moment ago. Your body thrums with energy—you want to run, to feel the ground against your bare feet and the cold night air on your face, and you think you could do it! Your legs are already swinging over the side of your cot, ready to run barefoot out of the hospital if that’s what it takes, but before you can stand up Overhaul’s pushing you back down onto the bed.

“Have you forgotten your end of the bargain already?”

Honestly you did forget, but only for a second, only because you were so excited to just be outside again. “Oh, yeah. Of course.” Your hand goes to your left ring finger, ready to slip the ring off and hand it over, but Overhaul shakes his head.

“Not here.”

“What—?”

You’re falling. Your hospital room is disappearing, the image of your walls and your window and your bed disintegrating into yawning black, and you’re falling through it into nothing, into emptiness, and Overhaul’s still-bare hand in yours is the only anchor you have so you clutch onto it and squeeze your eyes shut. You want to scream—that’s the sane thing to do when you’re falling through miles and miles of empty space, right?—but when you open your throat the sound is swallowed up just like the light was…

Overhaul’s hand burns into yours, an improbable lifeline that you pull closer more out of terror than conscious thought. The slick, empty air rushes around you and you think I am going to die like this and then, incredibly, as soon as you’ve accepted your imminent demise, you feel your back mold onto a chilled, flat surface, vertebra by vertebra up to the back of your head, as if you’ve been lain down onto it.

Your heart thuds in your ears and you brace for an impact because your body hasn’t quite accepted yet that it’s not falling anymore—but at the same time, you know you’re lying down on something. You pry your fingers away from their vice-grip on Overhaul’s arm and feel around blindly for what’s underneath you, and when it seems reasonably tangible you let yourself open your eyes.

Way above, vaulted dozens of feet over your head, is a ceiling studded with gilt-edged frescoes and stained glass. It’s raining (even though it wasn’t in the hospital, you think) but through the massive panes of colored glass there’s enough oily blue light to make out that you’re in a church.

You’re in a church, with a demon. Isn’t that against the rules?

You sit up stiffly and look over at Overhaul, who’s standing at your side and looking down at you…which is how you realize the soft, cold surface you’ve been deposited onto is the blanket on top of the altar in the sanctuary. “Where...did you take me?”

“You should know this place.”

And you do, when you look around. It’s empty now and you’ve never been here at night, but this is a church your mother would bring you to when you were little, back before the disease got so bad you couldn’t risk traveling to it anymore. This is where you took your purity vow…the ring feels heavy on your hand. “Why—why—“

“I can’t stand human hospitals. Filthy places… How that reek of illness and death doesn’t bother your kind, I’ll never understand.” Overhaul pulls his latex glove back on. He’s dressed differently now, no longer impersonating a doctor—black shirt, black pants, and a…bird mask in red leather and gold. So are you, as a matter of fact. Instead of your hospital gown, you’re in a gauzy white dress that’s already been pushed up to pool around the tops of your thighs.

The slip is too thin for the cold, and you can feel your nipples standing up under the cloth so you fold your arms over your chest and hug yourself. “Why did you take me here?” The sound of your voice echoes off the walls eerily and you wish you hadn’t spoken so loudly. The reflection of your words sounds girlish, nervous.

“I told you. Your side of our contract.” Even in this dark, the angular features of his face are clearly concentrating—on you. “Are you already having second thoughts? Such a fickle little thing…”

“You mean the ring?” You reach for it again, ready to tear it off and throw it at him if that’s what it takes to see your deal through, but Overhaul snatches your hand away, pinning it above you.

“Not the ring,” he says. “The promise.”

The…promise?

A chill makes its way down your spine despite the heat radiating off the demon’s body and onto yours. “I don’t understand.”

“The promise,” Overhaul repeats—and you hear a sound almost like wings flapping and then he’s on the altar with you, knees straddling your hips as a single hand holds both your wrists above your head. “To remain a virgin until marriage. Your promise to God.”

A streak of lightning cracks down on the other side of the stained glass window behind the altar, illuminating the room briefly in spectacular pits of red and orange and yellow…and then it’s dark again, and the only color you can make out is the gold in Overhaul’s eyes.

“I’m going to break it,” he murmurs, lowering his head toward your ear right as the answering thunder rolls through the sanctuary, up through the altar, up into you.

///

Méfiez-vous de son piège, the grimoire said. Beware of the catch.

Of course it wasn’t just a ring.

Overhaul’s fingers are in—inside you, his middle and ring finger pumping through the length of your cunt like they belong there, like you were made to be touched this way. A mixture of your juices and your own spit cling to the latex because he made you suck his fingers before he put them in you and he hasn’t bothered to take his gloves off—not that you asked. You’ve been too busy biting your lip to try and muffle the moans that he keeps forcing out of you. He’s bracing himself on top of you with one hand and fingering you with the other, so your own hands are free to push into your eyes and hide your face…until he yanks your arm back and stops.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes are screwed shut and you shake your head back and forth, the movement shuddering your whole body right down to your pussy wrapped around Overhaul’s fingers. He slows the movement and kneels back, pushing one of your thighs up into your chest as he does it.

“Look at me.”

And you’re not sure whether it’s some unearthly power he has over you or the plain old deterioration of your willpower, but you can’t refuse him. You crack your eyes open and he’s glaring down at you, skin pale as ice in the blue light. Once he’s satisfied that you’re watching, the demon leans back in to fuck your cunt with his fingers, slowly at first and then quicker when he hits something inside of you—a spot, a place on the inner wall of your pussy that makes you feel like you’ve been shocked— heat blooms through you like blood in water and you gasp and he curls his fingers up to pet over that spot again.

“Wait—wait, that’s—it feels—weird!” You’ve never felt like this before. You’re not supposed to feel like this, it’s wrong.

“I understand you’ve never touched yourself, but don’t pretend you don’t like it.” Overhaul says, voice as indifferent and calm as ever even though your cunt is dripping clear sticky liquid over the plastic of his glove.

He pushes back in and grinds his palm over the little button on the top of your pussy—your clit?—and you want to scream. “No, I—I don’t—nnhh...”

Do you like it? The demon’s body is so hot next to yours, like he’s running a fever except you’re the one going out of your mind… You’ve heard metaphors for sexual pleasure before (that it’s like having something to drink when you’re dying of thirst; or that it’s the ultimate act of intimacy, love in physical form) but all of that’s a fucking lie. There’s nothing to compare it to, no reference that makes sense, because it doesn’t make sense—you don’t even want him to keep going, do you? You’re only doing this because you signed your name on a devil’s contract, because you don’t want to die and there’s no alternative…but that doesn’t explain why you feel so warm from the inside out, why you’re squirming and your hips are rocking involuntarily no matter how much you try to keep still. This isn’t right. You feel like you’ve been lied to.

A good girl wouldn’t like this.

Overhaul isn’t going to let you close your eyes, so you don’t—but the sounds coming out of your mouth are so…indecent (and how can you think these things about yourself? the word feels like someone else is saying it when you hear it in your head) that your hand is drifting up to your mouth before you can stop yourself, trying to stifle all of it…

“Let your voice out. I want you to hear yourself moan.”

Long fingers slide their way out of your pussy and then move up to rub quick little circles around your clit and you moan, like a whore, like a girl getting her cunt rubbed by a demon— “Oh, uhhhn—something, it’s—coming—“ There’s something building up in your core—a peak, a climax, something that makes you fist your hands in the nightgown he put you in (so tight you’re surprised the thin fabric hasn’t torn) and tilt your hips up into him, begging without words because you don’t have any to express what your body is asking for…

But he doesn’t give it to you. Overhaul takes his hand away from your pussy and the shock of the cool air after his too-hot touch is almost enough to send you over that edge—almost. Not quite. And without it, you’re left shivering and quaking, thighs twitching as your baser instincts beg you to just put your hand between your legs for once and hump your fingers to completion if the demon won’t do it.

You’re not going to risk that, though. Not when Overhaul’s dragging your body closer, bunching up the blanket on the altar under your spine, so your pelvis is angled to his… He’s already shirtless and you hear him unzipping his pants but you can’t bring yourself to actually look at him, even when you feel something hard and hot nudging up against your inner thigh and then aligning to your sticky wet slit.

“This will hurt a bit, but I want you to look,” he says, and you don’t even understand at first until you make yourself feel it—his cock, pushing up against your tight cunt to finish this, this perversion of what your first time was supposed to be…

And what was it supposed to be? Roses and candles and soft kisses? A nameless, faceless husband unzipping your wedding dress and making love to you with the lights off? The way the demon touches you should be cruel in comparison but it isn’t, it’s lighting fires under your skin and turning your brains to mush, so how is your body supposed to tell the difference?

It’ll hurt, you know that, you’ve heard enough about sex to know that it always hurts the first time for girls…women. It was already a stretch to fit his fingers in your virgin pussy, so of course his cock is going to hurt. You turn your head toward the window at your side and try on look out at the rain drawing rivulets like veins over the glass, something to focus on instead of him.

“I said look,” the demon hisses, and his hips push forward a bit and you bite off a whimper of pain. “Watch me take your virginity…look at your tight little cunt swallowing me up just like it was made to.”

“N-No—“ you whine, even though it’s not like you can ignore it. “Don’t make me, don’t make me look, I can’t—“

“Then look at me.”

It’s what he wants, some kind of wicked satisfaction he gets off on, but you’re lucky enough to even get an option so you choose that one, shifting your gaze up into his face instead of the place where his cock is pressing deeper and deeper inside you. Overhaul’s eyes are half-lidded and it’s hard to tell from behind the mask but the look on his face is…pleasure? No, that would be too human. Restraint, at least. He could just thrust up into your body in one stroke, but he wants you to feel it for some reason.

Maybe because it’s a worse betrayal of your chastity if you want to get fucked.

Lucky for you, though, you can barely feel anything aside from the pain. The heat you felt building earlier is draining out of you even as Overhaul tilts deeper, layering his chest over yours. You’re almost grateful for the modest barrier the dress provides between your torso and the solid muscle of his abdomen. His cock in your pussy feels like it’s too big too deep too much and it’s the first time you’ve felt like your body wasn’t created specifically for this purpose so you hold it tight.

“Does it hurt?”

A second of clarity makes you want to snarl (of course it fucking hurts, I’m losing my virginity to a demon I summoned from hell) and you dig your fingernails into your palms to stop yourself from saying it out loud. Overhaul pulls out a fraction of an inch and then pushes back in and you feel like the breath’s being pushed out of your lungs. “Yes! Yes, it—it hurts—“

“I can make you enjoy it…for a price,” he sighs, settling into a slow rocking motion of his hips pushing into yours.

And you want to, every sore muscle in your cunt is telling you to give in and give up, give him what he wants so you can enjoy it like he says—but you’d rather hate every second of this than make another deal. You shake your head quickly and because you’re still too afraid to look away from him, you don’t miss the look of surprise that flits across his face before he tamps it down. “I don’t—I don’t want to—like it,” you gasp out between thrusts. “It’s better if—if it h-hurts…”

This time it’s obvious—his eyes really do widen, and you feel some petty triumph at having caught him off guard like this. Who’s predictable now? you think—and then he’s lifting one hand off the altar at the side of your head and tugging his glove off with his teeth, and you don’t even have time to be afraid of what he’s going to do to you because it’s too late, his bare fingers are already stroking over your mound and onto your core, massaging into the flesh of your stomach so he can feel his own cock sliding in and out of you—

and it doesn’t hurt anymore?

You only have a second to try and understand—he cured you, he healed the pain from your first time just like he healed your illness?—before he hooks his grip under your thigh and folds your legs into your chest so he can fuck into you harder than before. His cock slaps into your pussy and you can hear it, hear how wet your filthy little cunt is, smeared through with your juices. It’s sick—the sound of skin against skin, and the moaning you can’t hold back, you sound like a woman in a porno and you wish the pain would come back just so you could keep hating what he’s doing to you. “What—what did you do—“

The demon ignores you. “It feels good, doesn’t it.”

“Nn—“ It’s deeper like this…deeper and rougher and you can feel it. Now that the pain’s been reduced to the dull ache of a stretched muscle, you can feel everything—his cock sliding against that same spot in your cunt that makes you want to squeal, the friction of his body moving against your clit, all of it, everything you wanted to block out— he pumps into you and you hear your breath sobbing out a moan a second out of rhythm, the sounds of you bouncing on demon cock echoing over the walls. “Please—ah, ahhh…”

“‘Please?’ Are you begging—me, little girl?” Overhaul pushes your thigh up and drags his cock through you, excruciatingly slow, forcing you to feel the thick head slide over every gummy wall in your slick pussy.

You shake your head, mewl, try to force your hips to stop rocking back into his and grinding your clit against him. But you can’t. You’re a—you were a virgin, for fuck’s sake! Overhaul’s immortal. Probably thousands of years of experience on how to make you feel like you want this, like you’re only alive in the places he touches you… You’re at his mercy, if he has any. You never stood a chance.

“Then are you begging your god?” His body lowers directly onto yours and like you’re being controlled by puppet strings your arms fold around him and rake your fingernails uselessly into the smooth skin of his back. You can feel the vibration of his mirthless laughter through his chest. “It must hurt terribly…to know he isn’t listening.”

“Don’t—stop, please,” you sob. “Don’t say—don’t stop—please!”

“Listen to yourself, girl—“ Overhaul’s breath is faster now, but you don’t have time to question it because you feel your peak coming again, the tension rising up through your cunt and your abdomen, harsher and crueler than when his fingers were in you but you want it just as much. More. “Has he ever answered your prayers? Has he...ahh, fuck—who’s the one giving you what you need?”

“No— please, please just let me let me, please—“ You’re talking nonsense now, begging for the release—at least then it’ll be over, and you need it, you need it so badly you feel your muscles locking up, cramping, your ankles crossing each other behind Overhaul’s back.

“Good girl,” the demon breathes, and then he lifts off you so he’s kneeling upright with the two of you still connected, his thick, heavy cock still speared in your pussy, and his fingers come down again to rub at your clit. Everything’s so wet you can hear the motion of his fingers slicking themselves through your juices, sliding up and down the little button over and over and it feels so good that a tiny part of you almost wants to drag it out, to savor it, but the rest of your body is going to die, is going to go crazy if the demon doesn’t let you cum right now, right now, right now!

And he does. Praise the Lord. The pads of Overhaul’s fingers pass over your clit one last time and your head rolls back, your throat moves but you can’t even make a sound, your legs shake and you cum.

You didn’t know it was like this.

Your cunt squeezes down on his cock, throbbing and pulsing and your toes literally curl (you didn’t think that was a real thing!) and your vision goes black for a moment and—oh fuck oh fuck i want this i want more how is it possible that i’ve never felt like this—you understand, more intimately than ever, why sex is wrong:

because nothing that makes you feel this good could possibly come without a cost, could it?

///

It must take longer than you thought for you to come back to your senses, because when you regain awareness of your body you’re in your hospital bed. You’re clean, too, and you wonder for a second if Overhaul bothered to clean you up? Or no…he probably just snapped his fingers and transported you back to your room. You’re not really sure how it works.

What you are sure of, however, is that you just got fucked by a demon. You’re sore in places that you didn’t know it was possible to be sore, and there are already bruises forming on the flesh of your thighs from how tight he was holding you. You don’t really have time to inspect these, though, because apparently your…ordeal (if you can call it that) isn’t over.

Overhaul’s still here.

He’s facing the hints of sunrise through the east window, dressed again in the immaculate lab coat and surgeon’s mask. “You’re awake,” he says without looking at you.

You nod hesitantly. You’re not really sure what the protocol is in this situation, but at least you’ve finally held up your side of the contract, right? And so has he. Despite having been up all night doing sinful things, you’re still itching to get out of this bed and test the limits of your healthy body. “You’re…going to leave, right?”

“Yes—”

At that, you sigh in relief and settle back into your starched bedsheets.

“But there’s one more thing you owe me.”

“Goddamnit,” you swear for the very first time in your life. After what you just did, taking the Lord’s name in vain seems like a relatively minor sin.

Overhaul’s mildly irritated expression doesn’t change, but he holds his hand out to you, palm up, the way you imagine someone would if they were helping you out of a car or requesting a dance at an old-fashioned ball. And really, you want all of this to be over—you want to get out of this hospital, you want to taste what the air outside is like, you want to distract yourself from what you just gave up in exchange for a future. At this point you’re just going to have to hope God isn’t as picky about the whole premarital sex thing as you grew up believing.

So you put your hand in Overhaul’s.

Slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid it’ll burn him, he slides your purity ring down your finger and balances it in the palm of his bare hand. It sizzles when he touches it, glowing orange until it eventually burns down into a ash-black circle in the center of his palm. Once he’s satisfied that your pretty little ring has been reduced to nothing more than a scorch mark, he closes his hand around yours and you feel something sharp, painfully hot, etching onto your finger.

It’s over in a second, but you still yelp and yank your hand away from him as soon as he lets you. “Ah—ow, what was that?”

He burned you, he literally burned you! He’s already healed it, but there’s still a thin, pale scar, an intentional one left wrapping around the skin at the base of your left ring finger. Like a wedding ring.

When you look close, you can make out a symbol on the back of your finger where the cross used to sit—and even though your conscious mind doesn’t recognize it, the sight of it rings out something inside your ribcage, deeper and truer than flesh and blood. It’s the devil’s mark, you think. It’s his.

“…A promise,” Overhaul says softly, and even though it’s a chilly morning, you can feel the heat of his hands on yours a long time after he vanishes back into the dark.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #tw dubcon #tw sacrilege #tw christianity #overhaul #chisaki kai #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia x reader #my hero imagines #boku no hero fanfic #smut

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elen-aranel · 3 years

Text

Golden/Alone

The Engineer’s Adventures

1-1 • 1-2 • 2 • 3 • 4

For: @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday. I am aware that today is Thursday; this was longer than I expected! Pairing: Captain Christopher Pike x F!Reader (no Y/N) Warnings: violence, references to violence, drug use (kind of), minor character death WC: 7.3k words Tag list: @jusvibbbin - to be added to my Pike x Reader Taglist please let me know <3 A/N: The Engineer is back! And why does she go on away missions? WHY? I genuinely had so much fun writing this. I hope you enjoy!

“If I were piloting, Number One, I would have flown us through the eye of that storm cell. We would have gotten here quicker,” Chris jokes to Number One as they unstrap themselves from the co-pilot and pilot’s seats, respectively.

“And that is precisely why I was flying and not you, Captain. We may have been slower, but I got us here in one piece.”

“Lieutenant, back me up here. My flying was great in that speeder on Eloma.”

“You kept us ahead of our pursuers, yes sir,” you say with a smile.

“And staying ahead of pursuers is not a valuable skill in an atmosphere like this one where we are not being pursued,” Number One states with some finality, as she presses the control to open the back of the shuttle and extend the ramp.

You are on Caylara, for what you hope will be a boring mission. The captain and Number One, along with security officer Ensign James, are here to open negotiations for Caylara to join the Federation.

You are here because of the atmosphere – it is notoriously difficult to traverse. You can’t transport living things through it, unless you want them to be merged, dead, or both, and even flying through it is a challenge because of the electrical storm layers. There are windows of time when it’s safer, when shuttles and communications can get through, and windows when they can’t.

At Louvier’s instruction you had prepared a shuttle (and a backup – you don’t like to take chances) to travel through the atmosphere. Standard procedure for Caylara was to have an engineer accompany the shuttle to perform any repairs needed on the ground. You had tried to argue your preparations were good enough that you wouldn’t be needed, but Chris had seen straight through you.

“You find diplomacy boring and you don’t want a repeat of Eloma. That’s what’s really going on here, isn’t it?” His mouth had twisted into that smile you found irresistible, and even though you pouted, adopting your best puppy-dog expression, he had just laughed. “It’s all right. I won’t make you go to the reception. I won’t even make you wear your dress uniform. You can stay with the shuttle.”

You hang back as the captain and Ensign James pass you, Chris brushing his hand against yours as he passes. You smile a little, and get your tricorder out – you need to check to make sure the shuttle didn’t get damaged and will be all right to make the return trip. You look down the ramp as you scan, seeing the Caylarans for the first time as their delegation greets the away team.

They are very tall. You estimate the shortest is well over two metres and they tower above the away team, even over Ensign James who is tall for a human. But given the slightly lower gravity of Caylara their height isn’t surprising, you think. They have skin varying from very pale through to olive toned. Their faces are smooth but they have scales around their hairline extending down to the rest of their bodies. Well, their hands, at least. They are wearing long robes.

Your tricorder beeps as the away team starts to move away; there seems to be a charge buildup in one of the EPS controllers, but that’s all and it’s an easy fix. You pop the relevant panel and discharge it, without shocking yourself for once, and replace the panel.

Then there’s nothing left to do but wait. The reception is due to last two, perhaps three hours – short enough that you’ll be able to make your return trip through the atmosphere with time to spare before the current window closes.

You’ve brought some reading, of course, but first you want to get to the bottom of why the EPS controller picked up a charge. You take it as a personal insult, really – you were sure you had accounted for everything from the data you were given to prepare. However, when you compare the preliminary data with the scans the shuttle took as it went through the atmosphere you can clearly see the discrepancies. You’re puzzled for a moment – but of course you had enhanced the sensors to the latest specs when you adapted the shuttle, and you don’t know how old the original readings you were working with were. You almost wish Chris had piloted you through the storm cell; then you would have more data to work with.

You busy yourself combining the shuttle’s readings with your existing model, and calculating how much it was off by. After some time you are pretty sure you’ve got to the bottom of where the charge came from, and you modify the shuttle so that it doesn’t happen again.

You also think you may be able to make predictions with your new model, and perhaps refine your timings for the atmospheric windows. The Caylarans know the timings pretty accurately, but you aren’t at the stage of sharing data on that level as yet.

You run a new set of scans, and frown – there’s only ninety minutes until the window closes. You compare with the original estimates and—

Hang on. When did it get so late? You were supposed to be on the way back by now.

“Shuttle Hubble to away team? Come in please?”

Silence.

“Shuttle Hubble to Captain Pike?”

More silence.

Silence when you try to call Number One and James, too.

“Enterprise to Hubble. Come in, please.”

“Shuttle Hubble here, Lieutenant Spock. I was just about to call you – I have lost contact with the rest of the away team. They should have been back here by now, but they aren’t.”

“I have also tried to contact the captain but to no avail. Three unknown craft have appeared in the system, and have locked weapons on to us and the planet. They are not responding to hails. I have placed the Enterprise on yellow alert and raised shields. We cannot get a sensor lock on individual life signs through the atmosphere, and—”

“They’re firing some sort of energy weapon!”

“Taking evasive action!”

“Lieutenant, I—” Spock sounds uncharacteristically strained as he’s interrupted by what sounds like an overloading console.

“I understand. I’ll look for them. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Enterprise out.”

That’s it, you think.

You’re on your own.

You take a deep breath: what do you need? Communicator. Tricorder. Emergency medkit.

Phaser.

You put the medkit in a backpack, and since there’s space you add a water bottle and some emergency rations. You clip the tricorder to a utility belt, and holster the phaser, set to stun. Your communicator goes in your pants pocket; you’ve got your usual tools in your jacket.

Then you remember your terrible luck with communicators, so you grab a spare and shove it in your backpack. That should do it. You can’t carry the kitchen sink and you don’t have time to keep second guessing yourself.

Okay. Plan: find the away team, bring them to safety.

You exit the shuttle and shut the ramp – you don’t need strangers damaging it.

You take in your surroundings next. The shuttle has landed in the grounds of a large building, elevated on a hill in the middle of a city. It’s only three or four storeys high, but quite wide, and you think it extends back a long way. There are decorative metal accents spaced at regular intervals – lightning conductors, you realise, as you head toward the most important looking doorway – you see burnt grass at their bases. This building isn’t tall, but it is the tallest around; the atmosphere must affect Caylaran architecture, you think.

There’s no one around, which surprises you; shouldn’t there be guards?

You push the door and it opens with a whisper. Inside is the most ornate room you have ever been in. The walls are gold coloured stone, there are dozens of columns in mottled golden marble, and there are decorations finished with real gold leaf everywhere. There are bronze statues and hundreds of warm coloured lights. The ceiling is as decorated as the walls, and the whole effect is beautiful. Imposing. Stunning. Overwhelming.

But again, no one is here. You get your tricorder out, but you can’t resolve anything. Perhaps something is blocking the scan? You look at the stairs. The steps are high, designed with Caylarans in mind, and go up before dividing. There are flights down, too. There are corridors to the left and right, and you have to take a moment to weigh all your options. The largest doors are ahead, though, up the main staircase and over. Perhaps that’s where you would take guests that you wanted to impress?

You think back to what you read on Caylara in your mission briefing as you climb the stairs. Their head of state is Crown Princess Nanren, but although the title remains the same, a princess many generations ago passed laws to end the hereditary monarchy. Now a new crown prince or princess is elected for life when the previous one dies, and you think they have an elected senate too.

Beyond that, you don’t really know anything, you think as you reach the top of the stairs. You cross the landing, trying to stay aware of your surroundings. And as you look down the stairs, you lock eyes with the first person you’ve seen.

A guard is sitting on the ground next to the doors. He’s armed, and the stairs in front of him show signs of having been fired on. But he’s slumped back, his green-blue swirled eyes staring up at you.

“Why’s it so dark? I can see you in the dark. Why did you bring the dark with you? You shouldn’t—” he tries to lift his weapon, and you draw your phaser, but his head lolls and he closes his eyes, dropping the weapon in front of him.

That was unsettling.

You proceed slowly down the stairs, but he doesn’t move again. You kick his weapon away and get your tricorder out. You’re not a medic, this isn’t a medical tricorder, and you don’t know much about Caylaran physiology, but you do have field medic training and you can see that something is terribly wrong. You scan him, and then the air. It seems like there are traces of a molecule around that your tricorder program flags up as having features in common with known hallucinogens. It didn’t flag up on your general scan so it’s probably dissipated enough that it won’t affect you, but still you wish you’d put on an EV suit. There’s no time to second guess yourself now, though.

You put the tricorder away in favour of the phaser, and you gently push the next door open.

If you thought the foyer was large, this room is even larger. It’s all gold again, and should be as beautiful, but it looks like there’s been a fight in here and furniture is in haphazard piles on the floor. It makes you think of playing forts with your cousins in your grandparents’ house as a child. You’re not a strategist but you can easily see that these piles aren’t much better than that – they provide barely any cover.

You pick your way over gilded chairs and past carved wooden tables inlaid with gold, keeping an eye out. About a quarter of the way into the room, under a table with two chairs on top you see a Caylaran. She looks young, wearing what looks like it could be a staff uniform – it’s a plain warm toned brown dress with an embroidered hem, far less fancy than the delegates who had welcomed the others of your team. She’s staring straight ahead, hugging her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth. She pays you no attention as you kneel down by her.

“What’s your name?” You ask, softly.

“My name is Lararen and I’m going to kill the queen, going to kill the queen, going to kill the queen. My name is Lararen and I’m going to kill the queen, then the Genai are going to kill me.”

She smiles broadly as she finishes her little song, still staring vacantly straight ahead, and you shudder. You shake her shoulder and she blinks, slowly, but she doesn’t move.

You straighten up, thoughtfully, wondering what the Genai are. Some sort of bogeyman, or an alien race? Not that it matters.

Next you find a pair of guards, asleep, holding hands. You move their weapons out of sight and continue through.

But then you find a dead Caylaran. He looks like someone important, but his red robe embroidered with a golden floral patten has a scorch mark right in the middle of his chest. You’re not sure if that killed him, because there’s a pool of blood beneath him too. Either way, you think as you close his grey-purple eyes, he probably didn’t deserve whatever it was. You take a moment to pay your respects before moving on.

You don’t find any more dead bodies in this room, but you find several more Caylarans, either sleeping or talking nonsense. One male asks you where your flowers are, and tries to give you some from a fallen flower arrangement, but most of the rest are just scared.

You think they probably have good cause, as you push another door open. You pick it because the largest number of guards were close to it, so you figure it probably leads somewhere important.

It leads on to a stair well, small but lavishly decorated with tapestries, depicting Caylarans standing in outdoor scenes, sometimes with animals you don’t recognise. They deaden the sound of your footsteps as you climb the tall stone stairs.

Then two things happen: you pause as you notice one of the hangings is moving a little at the bottom, as though in a breeze. And then you hear voices above you.

“She’s not up here,” says a female voice, annoyed. Lucid.

“Well she’s definitely not down there.” The second voice is male. Defensive. “I’ve got a message from Alara. She wants us to look again.”

“Fine. But I want it noted for the record that this is a waste of time,” the first voice says, sounding suddenly quieter – she’s probably passed through a doorway.

“Like anyone cares, Nerela,” the second voice says. You risk a peek up the stairwell. You don’t get a good look as the second person disappears through the door, but they are definitely not Caylaran – he has blue skin.

You lean against a tapestry. There are aliens here, separate from your away team. There are aliens in orbit, too. The odds are good that they’re the same species. And “she” must be the crown princess. But what are they planning?

Regardless, you still need to find your people. It’s been half an hour; you could get back to the shuttle faster if you went straight there, but there isn’t much time left in this window.

You eye the tapestry again. You’re definitely not going to follow the aliens, and this breeze must be coming from somewhere. You push it aside.

This door is the first plain thing you’ve seen in the building. It stands slightly ajar – hence the breeze – and it’s painted beige to match the stonework, but otherwise it’s featureless. It swings as quietly as all the other doors when you push it, but it has some kind of bolt on the other side. Interesting. You try to work it, but you can’t. You think of the tools in your jacket; you could probably figure it out, but no. There’s no time. You push the door to, making sure it’s as shut as it can be, and continue.

You must have entered the service part of the building, you think, as you walk along a corridor. This is functional and plain, like the door. You feel a little more comfortable here; if you’d been interested in fancy, you would have joined the command track. Or Diplomatic Corps. You get your tricorder out again, but it doesn’t show you anything still and you didn’t expect it to. But then you approach a door, and hear whimpering from the other side.

You have your hand on your phaser as you push the door open. It’s dark compared to the rest of the building; there is a small window but there’s not much light coming through the Caylaran atmosphere right now. You take a moment to let your eyes adjust, then head toward the whimpering.

The room is small; some kind of office, perhaps? There’s a desk in the room, and behind it—

“Number One?” She’s crying. Number One is sitting on the floor crying, hair a mess, dress uniform dirty, cradling Ensign James in her lap.

You can barely believe it, but you squat down, reaching for your tricorder. You can see James breathing, at least. You look around, but Chris isn’t anywhere to be seen.

“Number One?” You scan them both. They both have traces of the drug in their systems, but a lot less than the guard you scanned earlier. As your eyes adjust you can see though that James has hit his head; there’s blood in his hair and on Una’s uniform. He’s also been hit by a energy discharge, but to the side.

“Una? What’s wrong?”

“I failed everyone. I didn’t protect my captain. What first officer doesn’t protect her captain? They’re going to throw me in the brig. They’re going to court martial me. I lost my captain, and he’s dead, I—”

Suddenly you’ve had enough. You slap her, hard. “Number One!”

“Lieutenant! What did you just—”

“Oh my goodness! I’m sorry, I—you—” You breathe. “Are you all right?” You strip your backpack off for your medkit. You’re going to need to try to bring Ensign James round.

“I—I’m not sure. I don’t know what happened; everything was normal and then suddenly it wasn’t. I was so scared, Lieutenant. It was—I can still feel it. But it doesn’t feel like me.” She shakes her head, eyes still a little wide, and you pass her the water bottle. She takes a drink as you inject Ensign James with a hypospray. He starts stirring immediately, which is good, but you still think he needs a proper exam to rule out any brain problems.

“Una, you’ve got fifteen minutes to get back to the shuttle with Ensign James. There are alien ships attacking the Enterprise, and I’ve seen aliens here too. I think they may be called the Genai. You go down the corridor, down the stairs, through the big room, through the foyer, and out. Do you think you can do that?”

“Back to the shuttle. Genai.” She shakes her head again, blinking a few times. She squares her shoulders. “Yes, I think so. I can. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to find the captain. You can tell the computer to run on autopilot, if you need to – I updated the climate model, so the computer should be able to handle it.”

Together you help Ensign James to his feet.

“Do you have your communicator still?”

“I don’t,” James is still groggy as he pats himself down.

“I do,” Number One brings her communicator out and opens it. “Number One to Enterprise, come in please.”

Static.

“I think there’s a blocking field throughout this building. The tricorder isn’t working for some things either. You’d better get going.”

“Good luck, Lieutenant.”

“Thanks. You too, Commander.”

You put your medkit away as Number One and James leave. You’re relieved that they’re both okay, and you’re confident in Una, now she recognises her fear isn’t hers.

Back in the corridor you check the door to make sure Una shut it. You push it, but it’s locked. Weird. You could probably unlock it, but you don’t want to go that way anyway.

You turn your back on the door and continue along the corridor. Number One had said the captain – had said Chris – was dead. But he can’t be. She wasn’t, and you think she only had blood from Ensign James on her uniform. But... what if he is?

If he is, you do your duty as a Starfleet officer first. Find his body. Survive. Get out of here. Then mourn him second.

You pass three locked doors on the corridor, but the last opens to more stairs. Still functional, but just going down this time. You go down, listening, hand on you phaser.

Back on the ground floor – you think, but it could be a mezzanine level – there are several rooms that are open.

You go into the first one, hand still on your phaser. It’s a bedroom, and there’s a Caylaran male cowering in the corner, wearing the service uniform.

“Have you come to end it?” He asks, staring past you. You don’t answer, but your heart aches; you think he means his life. The next room is empty, bed neatly made up.

You listen at the door to the third room, and you think you hear breathing. You push the door open slowly. You don’t see anyone at first, but as you head into the room you see the edge of a gold robe, protruding out of what must the en-suite. You think you’re getting a feel for Caylaran fashion, and this is easily the fanciest thing you’ve seen so far. The robe is made of gold fabric, whereas all the others you’ve seen have been colours embroidered with gold. This one has gold and silver embroidery, and multicoloured gemstones picking out the centres of the flowers.

“Crown Princess Nanren?” Your pitch your voice low. Gentle. You remember how Chris spoke to you on Earth in the past, when you were panicking, and try to convey that calm, that confidence, to her. And in that moment you know you can no longer focus on looking for him. If this is the crown princess, more hinges on you looking after her.

“Crown Princess? I’m a Lieutenant from the Enterprise. From Starfleet – the Federation. I’m not a dream or a nightmare. I’m here to help. Will you come out?”

“The Genai are here. They’re going to kill me. I—I can’t—”

“We will find somewhere you can call your people. I will look after you. We will call in your people and they will deal with the Genai.” General Order One doesn’t apply here, you think. Not if the Genai are already interfering. Not that you care about diplomacy anyway. You’ll do what’s right now, and face the consequences later.

“I don’t—Why aren’t they here already?”

“I don’t know, Crown Princess. But we will figure it out. Please trust me.” You put all your belief into your tone, all the hope you still have left... and she steps forward.

She looks every bit the princess. She is tall, even compared to the other Caylara you’ve seen, and her dress is as exquisite as you expected from the tiny part you’d seen. You wonder, briefly, how many she has like that and how many months, perhaps years, it took to sew. She has a gauzy golden cloak hanging behind her, also embroidered, and her dark hair is braided and pinned up into an elaborate style. The only things that are not Princess-like about her are her purple-blue swirled eyes. They are wide, and anxious.

You recall your briefing notes, and bow. “Princess,” you say, staring at the floor.

“Arise,” she replies, and there’s the ghost of a command tone there. Good.

You straighten, looking up at her again, and pause. This is not how you dress if you might need to make a run for it.

You exhale, surveying the room. It’s a bedroom – a staff bedroom.

“Princess, I can get you out of this, I think. But first... you need to change.”

You find staff robes in the wardrobe that fit her, even if they’re a touch short. And sensible shoes. You have to sit her on the bed to take her hair down, but, you reflect with a little smile that she can’t see, taking her pins out is not unlike taking tiny components out of a circuit board.

“You get used to it, you know,” she says as she stands after you’ve finished. “The pomp and ceremony. The robes. People expect it of their princess, and you get used to it.”

“They are lovely,” you say, following her gaze to where her robes are hung up. “But we should get moving. Where can we call your people?”

“That sort of thing is in the wing on the other side of the Room of State,” she says. Right. The other side of that big room. Of course. And there’s a locked door between you and it.

Even so you retrace your steps. She’s much faster up the stairs than you, and you think bad thoughts about differing alien physiologies. But then, she would find the chairs on the Enterprise a bit small, you think. And the beds.

Soon you’re on the corridor with the door at the end, and you finger your jacket’s zipper as you get closer – it’s time for you to brush off your lock-picking skills. You hope the lock is easy like the ones on Eloma.

But the princess pushes the door and it opens with a whisper.

You can’t say anything. But you thank your lucky stars for small favours.

“Let me,” you say, as you approach the bottom of the stairwell. “If anything happens, go back the way we came.” You look the princess in the eye and she nods.

You crack the door open the tiniest bit, and you hear a voice.

You turn back to the princess, reach out and take her hand. You know it isn’t protocol but you squeeze gently, feeling the scales on her skin and a ring round her finger, hoping the touch will keep her calm.

You push the door open again.

“—everywhere. Yes. Me personally. I don’t care what you—yes I know scanners aren’t working. I wish you hadn’t got voice comms back. But she’s not here; she must be on your floor. Fine, Nerela. She could be in the south wing. No don’t come down here, you idiot. Go round. Ugh. Put Yaima on. Yes tell Nerela she’s being a pain. No, they’re still with our vessel, so she can’t be in the garden. It’s the storm cycle; of course we can’t—To the East, yes. I’ll see you there. But tell Nerela she’s done after this. No I don’t care. Alara out.”

You hear footsteps stalking down the room, getting closer. Your heart is in your mouth, one hand on your phaser, as you hold your breath. The steps falter slightly... and then they continue. You stay frozen until you can’t hear them anymore, then you give it a minute after that before you move the door.

The Room of State has changed since you saw it last; almost all the furniture has been pushed to the sides of the room, apart from a chair cushion in the middle of the floor; that’s what made Alara miss her step.

You take a step forward, and the princess follows, still holding your hand. She gasps, and you follow her gaze; at the end of the room are rows of Caylarans, lying on the floor. You look around, but the coast seems clear. You take your tricorder out one-handed, and you scan them. From here you can pick out their life signs – they may be unconscious but they’re still alive.

“They’re okay. They aren’t dead. Probably stunned with an energy weapon.” You feel the princess relax, and you drop her hand. “We can take care of them later. You need to show me where to go.”

She nods, and you follow her across the room and through the door on the other side. You have time to check on the way across: Number One and James aren’t there. Neither is the captain.

The stairwell on the other side is like the first, except this has paintings rather than tapestries, and your footsteps are louder as you climb.

“I don’t know who any of them are,” the princess says, looking at the paintings on your way up. “I suppose I should, but... they’re not my ancestors, I suppose. Just... predecessors. In a way.”

You resist the impulse to shush her.

On this stairwell a painting opens to the service corridor. You take the lead going through, but the corridor is empty. And when the princess shuts the door, you hear its lock click.

You walk along the corridor, listening carefully, but you can’t hear any signs of life. You have to hustle to keep up with the princess, but you push a couple of doors as you pass them. They’re both locked.

The stairs down at the other end of the corridor carry on further than they do on the other side, and your calves are beginning to ache when you reach the bottom. Your discomfort doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. It’s cooler down here, and you think you must be underground. Some kind of bunker.

“My real office is in my suite. My ceremonial office is downstairs, but this”—she opens the second door you reach—“is for emergencies.”

The office is dark as you go in, but she presses a control and it lights up. You close the door behind you and look around. Unlike the other rooms off the service corridors, this one is lavish once again. The wallpaper has gilded highlights, and the desk is made of a golden brown hardwood and is intricately carved. There’s no window since you’re underground, but the light fittings are made of bronze and remind you of the statues in the foyer. You realise the room is probably this nice in case the princess needs to do an emergency broadcast – her surroundings will still look the part.

The princess sits at the desk, pressing her palm to a sensor. A computer apparatus lifts up, and she enters some commands. You walk round the desk and stand a little way to her side, as a Caylaran man appears on the screen. His expression is blank, confused.

“Is this some kind of joke? At such a time? Using Princess Nanren’s—wait—”

He frowns, tips his head to one side.

“Your highness, is—is that you? The Genai—we were sure they’d killed you. That’s what they said. And the blocking field is on so we couldn’t scan—we had no idea—I—” He closes his eyes and bows his head.

“I am so sorry, your highness. I didn’t want to risk your people on a dangerous mission with no intelligence if you were already dead. But I should have trusted in you, and not believed the Genai without proof.”

Staff robe or not, Crown Princess Nanren straightens up and looks every bit the princess once again.

“Arise. Guard Leader Daymen, I am glad to see you. Please do not apologise; the time for analysing our decisions and learning from this situation is not yet here. First I must survive, and you must take back the palace. The Genai are still here; they have a vessel in the garden and people throughout the palace. Our people have been drugged; most are in the Room of State, but there are likely others dispersed through the palace.”

“They have three vessels in orbit too, I think,” you say, quietly.

“They have vessels in orbit too, although”—she presses a control, and a little data window appears—“they won’t be able to send any reinforcements through the atmosphere for a few more hours. What do you need to retake the building?”

“I will bring my guards now, highness. If you could turn the blocking field off it would make things safer, but—no. You are the most important. Enact the safe-room protocol, and remain where you are until we secure the building.”

“I may be able to lower the blocking field. But I shall keep safe. Do you have any news of our Federation guests?”

“Their shuttle left before the window closed. I was unable to talk to their ship at that time, but...” his expression goes thoughtful. “We use a limited range of communication frequencies. The Genai in orbit could have blocked them.”

You nod to yourself; the Caylaran frequencies had been in your briefing, and they were very different to Federation ones. The blocking field in the Palace was wide-band, but it would take too much power for a block like that over a bigger area. Much more sensible to just block the Caylaran frequencies.

“Thank you. May the skies protect you, Guard Leader.”

“May the skies protect you, highness.” He bows once again and cuts the connection.

“Lieutenant, thank you for all you have done for me so far. May I ask this last favour?”

“To take down the field? Of course, your highness. What do I need to do?”

She slides a ring off her finger and hands it to you. It’s a very narrow band of gold with a small red stone set on it. It’s big for you, though, so you slip it on to your thumb.

“You can use that to gain access to the systems. The security office is down the corridor to the right.”

“Lock the door behind me, your highness.” You smile as you turn to go.

“May the skies protect you, Lieutenant.”

“And you too.” You go through the door, closing it behind you. You hear a loud thunk a moment after you do; it sounds like more than a lock – probably blast doors. At least she’s safe, you think. Even if that means you’re alone.

You wonder about Chris, and where he could be. You have to hold on to hope, don’t you? You can’t think... no. You mustn’t. Instead you think about what he would do in your place. You think he’d be cautious. You’re nearly at your goal, but if you don’t succeed people could get hurt if the Caylaran Guard can’t tell who is who, or where they are. You’ve heard people complain about security officers being trigger happy; you think it’s probably the same for the Guard.

And you’re in a strategically important part of the palace; you don’t know how many Genai there are but they’ll probably find this area eventually. You draw your phaser, and make sure you walk quietly.

There is only one door left between you and where the corridor splits, when you hear a voice. The door opens a little, and you freeze. The voice is familiar – one of the Genai.

“—last time, no. I genuinely, and I am completely sincere on this, do not care what Alara thinks. Not even a tiny little bit! She missed this entire section! Yeah whatever, Yaima, you go tell her what I said. But when I find the Queen—Crown Princess, whatever, and she doesn’t, she’s the one that’ll get fired, not me! Nerela out!”

The door slams open, and Nerela stomps out. It’s her or you, but you are ready and she is not. Her black eyes widen as she sees you, and her weapon is in hand, but before she can aim you shoot. She grunts as she falls back, stunned.

Happily, Genai are shorter than Caylarans, although Nerela is wearing high heeled boots which make her look taller. You drag her back into the room she came out of, take her weapon and communicator and leave her lying in the recovery position. You shut the door behind you and it clicks a second later.

You shake your head; the doors are one mystery too many. You put Nerela’s weapon in your phaser holster, and tuck her communicator into your belt. Then you head to the right, toward the security office.

The first thing you notice as you push the door open are the screens. Dozens of them. The second—

“Chris?” He’s frowning, pointing a phaser at you. He looks at you like he can’t believe his eyes. Like you’ve stepped out of a nightmare.

“Chris it’s me. I’m real. I’m really here.” You take a careful step through the doorway, keeping eye contact with his bloodshot blue eyes, letting the door close behind you.

“You don’t need to be afraid any more.” You think about what Number One had said. “This fear... it isn’t really you.” You stoop down and put your phaser on the floor. You take Nerela’s weapon and put that on the floor too. And as you do, something clicks into place in your mind.

“Chris, you’ve been helping me, haven’t you? Locking doors to keep me safe? To help me get where I needed to go?”

“I’ve been so... afraid. I—I needed to keep her—to keep you safe.” He relaxes his grip on his phaser a little, and you reach for your tricorder.

“You were drugged, Chris.” You scan him. “Number One and James are safe, they got a lower dose than you.” A much lower dose, you realise, looking at the numbers. “I sent them back to the shuttle and they returned to the Enterprise. I’m going to end all this, get us home. But I need you to stop pointing that phaser at me.”

He looks at his hand, holding the phaser, then back at you.

“But is she—are you real?”

Your heart melts for him. You haven’t said these words, but you’ve felt it for a while. And—you worried, you genuinely worried, that you would never get to say them. This may not be the moment you planned, but he has to believe you.

“Chris, I love you. I’m real.”

“I—” he drops the phaser, and it clatters to the floor. The next thing you know you’re in front of him, arms around him, holding him. You can’t think; you can speak. You just hold on, letting your body feel his warmth, his solidity. You may not have been drugged, but you had been so afraid

. After a moment he puts his arms around you, too, and you just stay there for a moment more. Holding him. Letting him hold you.

As much as you’d like to forget everything else right now, you still have a job to do. You pull back, take hold of his hand, and look at the security console. You can see feeds of the Room of State, the foyer, the other rooms you’ve been in, and other places, too. Beneath the monitors is a schematic; this is how Chris was locking and unlocking the doors, you realise. But how did he have the credentials to do so?

You look at the desk and see a ring like the one the Crown Princess gave you, nestled in a groove.

“How did you get that?” You ask.

Chris frowns. “I was in that big room, but I was so afraid. I came through the door. Went upstairs. Along the corridors. Looking for somewhere safe enough. I got here and the Caylaran... we struggled, he tried to shoot but I took his weapon.” You follow his gaze to an energy weapon on the ground. “Then he ran. And I stayed. I could see everything. Not get caught out. And then I saw you.”

You squeeze his hand, and work the controls with your other hand. There is a glyph that looks like a shield; you turn it off. You check your tricorder – finally you can detect life signs. Both Caylaran and Genai. As you do, Nerela’s communicator chirrups to life.

“Nerela? I swear, if this was you—! You have the worst timing! The Caylaran guard are here. Put the blocking field back up immediately. That’s an order! Nerela? Nerela, answer me! Ne—”

It lapses into static for a moment. Then silence.

“The Guard are here, Chris. As soon as the atmosphere clears we can go home.”

When you return to the Enterprise you go to the captain’s quarters. You know he won’t be there, but you need the sense of his presence. His smell.

Chris had to stay on the planet to complete the original negotiations and help deal with the Genai; the drug’s effects had faded by the time the atmosphere was passable again, and you’d got some water and rations into him. Spock came down and stayed, but you had only left Chris because he ordered you to.

You have a shower, put on one of his sleep shirts, and curl up on the sofa under his throw blanket to write your report.

“Sweetheart?” You wake up to Chris kneeling in front of you, hand on your shoulder. His hair is damp and he’s out of his uniform. Your brow creases for a moment – you don’t remember him using that endearment for you before.

“Chris,” you say, stretching. Pushing the throw away, and leaning into his touch. “You’re back.”

“I am.” His mouth quirks into a smile. “There was a lot to sort out; it seems the Genai and the Caylara have a dispute over a world on a system between them. The Genai thought if Caylara joined the Federation, we would take their colony from them. They thought if they disrupted the negotiation and killed Crown Princess Nanren, either we would give up, or the Caylarans would be too afraid to continue.” He moves his thumb along your shoulder.

“Spock put the fear of God into the Genai in orbit. I’m not sure how,” he adds, at your incredulous look, “but they and the Caylarans have requested mediation. And now the Genai want to work towards joining the Federation, too.”

“I wish they’d chosen to talk to us first,” you say, frowning. Thinking of the dead Caylaran. “These breakthroughs always seem to come at such a cost.”

“They do,” he says, gathering you into his arms. Holding you against him.

You stay in his arms for a while, just breathing. But eventually he pulls back, and moves to sit beside you.

“You were amazing today. You’ll be getting a commendation, but Crown Princess Nanren wanted me to convey her thanks, too. You saved her life.” He reaches into his pocket, then leans forward and fastens a chain round your neck. It’s delicate, golden, and from it hangs the ring that she had lent you for the computer. That you had given back before you left. “She wanted you to have this. But she thought a necklace might work better.”

You shake your head, taking hold of the ring. “Saving her was as much you as me, Chris. Locking those doors.”

He looks at you, thoughtful. “I don’t think so. I—I have never felt fear like I did today. Now I look back at it I can tell it wasn’t real, but at the time, seeing you on those screens, moving with purpose, helping our people and the Caylarans... you gave me hope.”

He pauses, blue eyes meeting yours. Hand reaching out to touch your face.

“When we were down there... I remember what you said to me. I love you too.”

You lean forward, meeting him for a kiss, gentle at first but it goes passionate almost immediately, both of you pouring your feelings for each other into the connection between you. You didn’t know it could feel like this, you think, before he pulls you into his lap and thoughts flee away.

“Lieutenant, I want to thank you.” Number One says, sitting at her desk. “I was not myself down on Caylara, but you did yourself proud. You saved us.”

“You’re welcome, Commander.” You smile. “I’d say any time, but right now I’d be happy if I never left the ship again.”

“That being said, if you tell anyone—”

“If I tell anyone you were crying, I can expect to spend the next month of duty shifts degaussing the transporter with a microresonator?”

“Oh that’s a good one. I must remember that. Yes. You will be degaussing, Lieutenant.”

“Understood.”

#writer wednesday #Christopher Pike #Christopher Pike x Reader #Captain Pike #writings of the girl from outer space #fanfic #fanfiction #Star Trek Discovery #Star Trek Strange New Worlds #The Engineer's Adventures

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moved-to-void-kissed · 3 years

Text

Too Late to be Saved

Document link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1GF_jZevunsCA5QKPWXfaVO_OO61ZaAtxkzPdoJNJHUM/edit?usp=sharing

When Aqua and Aria reach the Dark Margin at the edge of the realm of darkness, they meet Ansem the Wise, who is quickly sought by Ansem, Seeker of Darkness. Aria angrily confronts the fellow Heartless, but finds herself unable to get back to the End of Sea before Riku and King Mickey arrive. (2351 words) Replaces the KH3 cutscene “An Unexpected Encounter” and changes some story events so that “Too Late” and “Braving the Darkness” no longer occur.

My first new piece of selfship writing on this blog, and oh boy is it a big one! I had a lot of fun writing this, so hopefully it makes for a good read, haha ^-^

A transcript of the document is under the readmore! Reblogs of this post would be greatly appreciated, since I was really happy with how this turned out, but they’re not required by any means~

“What is this place..?”

The blue-haired woman slowly walked forwards, marvelling at the sight before her. The endless dark caverns that she had wandered for so long had opened out to a clouded grey beach, lit by what appeared to be a glowing white moon above the horizon. The hard stone underfoot was giving way to soft sand of the same ash-like colour, as waves of murky water gently grazed the shore. It was an eerily tranquil place by the standards of all she had witnessed before, something her companion was quick to notice.

“There are no Heartless here.” she said. “I almost feel as though I shouldn’t be here, either. Aqua.. I think this might be the edge of the realm.”

“So, we’ve made it to the end?” replied Aqua, now making her way towards the shoreline.

“Yes, it would appear so. Whatever lies beyond this shore.. It seems less like part of the darkness, and more like something between dark and light. Something that doesn’t belong to either force..”

As her partner spoke, Aqua became aware that her voice was growing fainter. When she turned around, she saw that she had made far less progress towards the water, standing awkwardly some distance away with her wings curled around her body. She looked nervous, and unsure what to expect, yet the catlike ears poking straight up through her messy blonde hair showed that she was still as alert as ever, constantly listening for danger even in the silence of the new place they had stumbled across.

“Aria, it’s okay! We can keep going, if you’d prefer that. You look tense, and I don’t want you to be unsettled.” A worried expression flitted across Aqua’s face as she reached out to hold Aria’s hand - the sudden movement made her flinch in surprise, but she quickly and visibly relaxed as Aqua drew closer. When the two were standing together again, Aqua gently closed both of her hands over Aria’s, unfazed by the patches of open darkness that ran along them, and smiled as she looked down at her partner.

“Thank you..” she mumbled quietly. “I’m alright, I just- don’t know what to expect here.”

It was then that, behind the Keyblade Master, Aria spotted a hooded figure sitting some distance away, hidden by a black coat but appearing to gaze out over the barely-moving water. Though she still let Aqua hold her right hand, she slowly shifted to free her left and moved to stand at Aqua’s side in one fluid movement. Then she extended her left arm and a mass of dark energy enveloped the space beside her, dissipating quickly to reveal a jagged dark red Keyblade.

“Identify yourself!”

Her shout echoed across the shore, leading the figure to turn its head and slowly stand up. As it started to walk across the sand, it removed its hood to reveal an older-looking man with piercing orange eyes and wispy light blond hair. He looked tired, and his face bore the wrinkled lines of worry as he observed the two Keyblade wielders.

“Please, stay your weapon. I mean you no harm.”

Aria wasn’t overly convinced, but she could see that the man did not have the strength to be a threat, so she lowered her Keyblade. Aqua was curious to find out more, taking a step forward.

“Who are you? How did you end up in this place?”

The man sighed wistfully, folding his hands behind his back. “My name was.. stolen by another, and I can feel this place taking its toll on my memory. I’m sorry. I know that I have only been here for a fairly short time, and that I was sent here by the destruction of the machine I created to encode Kingdom Hearts in data.”

“Before that..” He turned to look out over the water again, unwilling to meet Aqua’s gaze. “I caused a great deal of misery to many individuals, through both my recent actions and my previous research. It is clear to me now that I was deeply in the wrong about some of my original beliefs.. Now, I can only hope for a chance to atone for my deeds.”

“It’s alright.” Aria’s Keyblade had disappeared from her hand. “I can see now that your heart holds a true desire for.. repentance, or something of that nature. I’m not sure what the right word is, but.. The point is that you won’t be harmed, by either of us.”

“Yes, of course!” Aqua added. “I think you’ll be safe here, at least, since the Heartless don’t seem to come here. And, I can’t claim to know what you’ve done, but.. What’s important is that you recognise your mistakes, and that you want to make up for them.”

The man seemed relieved, and turned back to face the pair with a shadow of a smile on his face. “Thank you, both of you. I admit that I was not expecting to meet anyone else in this infernal prison. If I may ask, what are your names?”

“Oh, there’s no time for that now.”

A dark portal had opened up, and from it stepped an imposing and well-built man in a similar black coat. He had slicked-back long silver hair and similarly piercing eyes to the old man, though his were a cold golden colour. Aria’s eyes narrowed at his approach, as it was clear that he was a powerful user of darkness, though the true nuance was only visible to her.

“What- What’s going on?” Aqua asked, turning to face the man with suspicion. He ignored her for the moment, focusing only on the older man, who in turn was glaring fiercely at the intruder as he approached.

“You..”

“Master.. I must have a word with you.”

“Master?” he echoed. “So now you mock me..” The disapproval dripped from his voice like bitter venom. The interloper opened his mouth to respond, but-

“Leave.”

Aria had broken away from Aqua’s grasp and now stood defiantly before the intruder, Keyblade still in hand.

“Excuse me?” The man raised an eyebrow and sneered down at her, surprised by her actions.

“I know what you are, Ansem.” she snarled back. “I have known your power since before you even existed. A villainous Heartless with a natural human form - the one that took the title of “seeker of darkness” and is shadowed by a twisted dark figure. You think you’re so strong, but you are not the one who holds power here.”

This last statement had clearly struck a nerve, and Ansem’s expression of contempt soured into anger. “You’re certainly an astute one.. But what makes you think you could possibly face me?”

“Have your eyes gone blind as well as gold? If I can tell what you are, you can tell what I am. I have seen more than you will ever achieve, especially now that you’re afflicted with some other presence. That-” - she pointed up at his eyes - “-is Xehanort’s power, isn’t it? If you’re with him, that makes you our enemy.”

At this point, Aqua’s worried expression had returned. “Aria, be careful..”

“Aqua, get that man somewhere out of the way. I’m going to stop this before it becomes a problem.”

“You are a fool to challenge me, girl!”

An eruption of darkness burst forth from the Heartless, and the powerful frame of the Dark Figure rose up from his shadow. Aria quickly leapt up into the air, spreading her wings to soar over Ansem’s head as he lashed out. To deflect the residual impact of his outburst, Aqua summoned a Barrier spell, then started to help the old man escape once he had turned around.

The force of that initial burst - not even a targeted attack, merely an effect driven by the might of his anger - instantly made Aria aware of the strength Ansem possessed, and she knew she would have to be careful. Her advantage was agility, as the darkness she could draw from her surroundings to aid her flight was limitless. She darted out of his reach and flew up and away from the Dark Figure’s grasp, firing shockwaves of unearthly blue energy at both it and Ansem. The monster seemed unfazed, but Ansem himself was slowed down in his pursuit of her, only to then retaliate with a barrage of violet orbs, which Aria was able to flit between. At every twist and turn, she flew further away from him, enraging him even more as he was forced to give chase.

“What is this insolence?!” Ansem yelled. “You should be obeying me!”

“Does it look like that matters?” she replied, deftly evading another blast of dark energy. “I already told you - you’re not the one who holds power here. Even if you did, Ves’ presence is enough to protect me. I don’t care what you think you deserve!”

Another flash of darkness, this time from Aria herself - she had switched her Keyblade from its dark mode to its diamond mode, now shimmering with cold blue light, and enveloped herself in a shadowy aura to strengthen herself. Still soaring on her wings, their black feathers gleaming with energy drawn from the realm, she sent a rain of insightful flames down from above, then her Keyblade became electrified and she hurled it spinning towards him.

“Maybe you meant something, once. But now you’ve let yourself be taken over by someone who’s not even strong enough to control you completely. Take it from someone who knows - all that does is weaken you!”

“Enough of this!”

Suddenly, the Dark Figure wrested itself from Ansem’s shadow and lunged forwards into the air, followed swiftly by Ansem himself, roaring and surrounding himself with a wall of intense darkness. As Aria dropped through the air to avoid his charge, a blast of ice struck him from behind. It was Aqua, channeling magic even without her Keyblade to act as a conduit. The impact threw Ansem off-course, but the Dark Figure swept around and managed to grab hold of Aria.

“Agh!”

“Let go of her!” Aqua cried, trying to fire more magic without hitting Aria. Ansem’s attention remained focused on the Keyblade Master, while the Dark Figure tightened its powerful grip as if to crush Aria entirely. She desperately writhed and struggled, holding onto the figure with her right hand and trying to slash at it with the Keyblade in her left. After a few moments, it became shrouded in a dark mist, as if dissipating, and she was able to slip from its hold when another direct hit from Aqua made Ansem stumble.

Anger still pulsed through him like a poison as he shouted at the both of them. “I will not lose to an obstinate recusant and a lost guardian with no Keyblade to protect herself!”

Clearing the space around him by emitting a shockwave of energy, Ansem started to summon a massive crest of darkness above him, reaching all the way up to the ceiling. The Dark Figure was still clawing at Aria, as if enraged at how she had stolen some of its power to escape it, but she felt confident she would be able to evade the incoming blow. She could tell that he was not at his full strength anymore, and the intricate crest was already starting to lose its shape, contorting into a misshapen orb of raw darkness.

Then she saw where Ansem was aiming.

“Don’t you dare!-”

In the instant before the orb struck her, all Aqua saw was a flurry of feathers, and then came the dark impetus. Something fell from her sash as she was knocked to the ground, and she was only aware of something- someone- Aria being launched through the air above her, sent flying further back into the dark.

Just then, a shower of stars came soaring in from the direction of the otherworldly beach. Their light seemed to pierce through the darkness like a blade through fog, and Aqua couldn’t help but feel a surge of hope as she saw them strike the Heartless.

“Oh no you don’t!”

A familiar and determined cry from none other than King Mickey himself - the little mouse had leapt to the fray and brandished his Star Cluster Keyblade to help Aqua out. From behind him, another Keyblade wielder in plaid clothing was running towards them, carrying a sword of grey metal with ease.

Aqua recognised him immediately, even though he had grown considerably. “Riku! Mickey! Is it really you?”

“Gah..” Ansem staggered back to his feet, clearly injured from Mickey’s attack, and glared at them all in turn. “You have not won this.. You will not prevail!”

Another dark corridor opened up, then it was gone, and he was gone.

“I don’t feel good about letting him get away like that..” said Mickey. “Should we try and go after him?”

“There’s no time!” Riku exclaimed, his green eyes clouded with concern. “We need to get you out of here, Aqua, and bring Ansem the Wise with us, too. I don’t know how long the corridor I made will stay open for.”

“Wait, but-”

Mickey nodded at Riku’s words with a determined expression. “You’re right. I’m not leaving without you again, Aqua!”

All the while, Aria was desperately flying.

The light of all their hearts, and of the corridor, was blinding, especially for one so accustomed to the dark - but she kept racing forwards, using them as a guiding beacon. Sharp spikes of rock loomed down from the ceiling, as if the jaws of a monster were trying to consume her, to keep her trapped in the realm that had already held her for so long. No. She wouldn’t lose her. This would be her only chance to escape.

The lights flickered, once, twice, three times - and then it was all extinguished. Fatigue from her injuries mixed with overwhelming emotions brought Aria to the ground with a sob. She crashed to the floor just metres away from where her love had been so cruelly rescued, clinging onto what Aqua had so sadly left behind.

All she had left was a blue glass Wayfinder.

#third time's the charm..#a call from the void #creations from the void #selfship #selfshipping #love: wayfinding waters (aqua)#selfship: survivors of the dark (aqua/aria)#self‑inserts #self‑insert: darkness' champion (aria)#kingdom hearts selfshipping #this post is okay to reblog!#I hope that's everyone who wanted to be tagged! if i've missed someone off or tagged someone who didn't want to be then please let me know

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masterjedilenawrites · 3 years

Text

The Sniper and The Medic: Chapter 2

Starring: Crosshair, Original Character “Joan Vo,” probably the rest of the Bad Batch at some point

Summary: Crosshair doesn't exactly like medical personnel. In fact, he hates them. They're always poking and prodding, calling him skinny, telling him he's not good enough. But then he meets the new medical examiner, the smart and kind and oh-so-pretty Joan Vo. And suddenly, he's not only looking forward to his medical check-ups, but he's also starting to question whether he wants to go to war after all....

Rating & Warnings: T/PG-13. Eventual fluff. Light angst. Who knows what else will pop up, but I’ll leave warnings when needed.

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be tagged for this fic.

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

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Chapter 2: Doctor’s Orders

She wasn't the first human girl he'd ever seen.

But she sure was the prettiest.

There'd been some contractors and other hired help on the planet, especially in recent years as the demand on the warfront left few bodies to fill the more ancillary tasks. A few had been female. Each time one came in, there was endless chatter among the clones about them. Crosshair had never understood the fascination, nor had his brother Tech. They often wondered if that was just another one of their defects.

Now he got it.

She didn't wear the traditional medical garb, or even the sterile robes the Kaminoans usually gave visitors. Instead, she was in what looked like the clone's standard issue under-armor, "blacks." Slightly different material and stitching, but same concept. It stretched around her figure, highlighting both her obvious female-ness as well as some muscles. Her pinkish-blonde hair was pulled back from her face, which was young, but also weathered. She wasn't another posh politician or edgy mercenary. She was something else entirely.

But her arrival did nothing to help his nerves; in fact, he felt even worse now. This pretty girl would be the one inspecting him. Frowning at all his subpar test results. Reprimanding him for not eating or exercising enough. Judging him.

He watched her with wary eyes as she entered and gave him a small but endearing smile.

"Good morning," she said, her voice a bit raspy, but calm. Soft. "I'm Joan."

She looked at him expectantly. He knew he should give his official designation, but he decided to say the name he'd given himself, in a rebellious attempt to show himself as human.

"Crosshair."

She held her smile, unperturbed by his lack of protocol. In fact, she seemed pleased by it.

"Crosshair," Joan repeated, sending a shiver through him. She had been holding a datapad, undoubtedly containing all the sad details of his medical history. He braced himself for the uncomfortable silence that would happen as she flicked through it. But instead she placed it on a table along the back wall and rolled out a chair to face him.

"Well, Crosshair, tell me about yourself."

He blinked a few times. "Um," he nodded to the back table. "My file should have everything about me."

"Everything?" she asked with an amused smirk. "Like your favorite color? What you think about before falling asleep?"

Her eyes narrowed at him, a challenge, but a playful one. He had no clue how to respond.

Before he could come up with something to say, her face relaxed and she pushed her chair back as she stood, returning to the back table. She grabbed a pad of paper and an exam scope. The datapad remained neglected.

"Crosshair..." she said his name again, causing him to fight to control another pleasant fluttering in his chest. "Does that mean you're really into guns?"

She came in front of him again, resting the primitive writing materials on the table beside his leg as she fiddled with the settings on the scope.

"I'm a sharpshooter," he said. That was something he had an answer for.

"Sharpshooter." She quickly scribbled the word down on the paper. "There's something about you. What else?"

He was silent again, back to being utterly confused. Why didn't she just look in his chart? Was this some sort of test?

A pale light came on the scope and she brought it up to his right eye. She didn't let him sit in confusion for long. "Have you thought about getting a tattoo yet? You could do something really cool with a reticule, or a target. Maybe a bullet?"

She moved the scope across his other eye. He tried to stay still for her, even though he really wanted to furrow his eyebrows at the random change in topic.

"I... haven't thought about it," he muttered.

She set the scope down and held up the pen, holding it slightly behind his head.

"Look straight ahead, let me know when you see it," she said, bringing it slowly forward. He grunted as soon as the pen entered his periphery; he couldn't say anything as Joan was already talking again.

"What do you think is the furthest distance you could make a shot from?" The pen was moved to the other side and the exercise repeated, though she didn't seem too interested in it. "Like an accurate one. A bullseye, dead on."

She sounded like the young clones they'd sometimes bring around to the training rooms on field trips. Wide eyes, reverent voices, in awe of the cadets they'd one day become themselves.

Crosshair allowed himself to frown as he answered her, quite frankly, silly question. "It's not just a matter of my ability, but the capacity of the rifle and range of the blast, as well as a whole list of environmental factors."

Joan brought the scope up to one of his ears, now, peering through it. He could feel her breath against his neck as she spoke. "Okay, so you have the best long-distance rifle in the entire galaxy. Perfect wind and lighting conditions. Nothing else in your way. How far?"

He thought about for a few seconds, and then confidently stated, "Thirty-five hundred meters. Easy."

She was looking in his other ear, but he could still see her smiling, impressed, out of the corner of his eye. It made his cheeks feel warm.

"What would be a hard shot to make, then?" she asked, coming back around to face him. She motioned to hold his hands out in front of him. As he thought about the new question, she instructed him to fold his thumbs inward and then curl his other fingers into a fist. Her own hands wrapped gently over his; they were cold but soft, and he almost lost track of his thoughts as he watched her guide his wrists to bend up and down.

"Any pain?" she asked, bringing him back. He shook his head.

"Well..." he said thoughtfully, "I suppose it'd have to be shooting blind. You can still get a lay of the land, use your other senses to aim. But if you can't see what you're shooting at...."

Joan hummed in acknowledgement, moving his palms to face upward, and tapping along his wrists. "Any pain?" And he shook his head again.

"I knew a sniper once," she said in a lower voice. "You know what he said were the hardest shots he ever had to make?"

She moved his hands into another formation, where his knuckles touched each other in the middle of his chest with elbows sticking out. He shook his head, answering both questions, the one she'd just asked, and the one he expected would come with this test.

"He said it's the ones you don't want to make." Her light-heartedness was gone and her face now looked old and tired. "He didn't explain further, but I knew he'd been on the Umbara mission."

Crosshair didn't need her to explain further, either. They'd been told about Umbara.

"I would've known," he couldn't help but say. It had been the first thing he thought of when they were debriefed on the tragic mission. He hadn't told anyone, knowing it wouldn't be taken well, but he still believed it. There was no way he wouldn't have been able to tell it was his brothers at the other end of his gun.

She regarded him with a cocked head, and for a moment, the judgement he'd feared receiving in this room flashed across her features. But then it was gone, and her usual squinted eyes and quirked lips fell back into place.

"And what if you hadn't?"

"I would have. I know I would have."

She shook her head. "That's not what I meant. You have to think about the what-if sometimes. Even if they're far-fetched. Just to know what your response would be. Hope for the best, and prepare for the worst."

He didn't know what to say to that.

But Joan didn't wait for him to respond, either. She picked up the pad of paper, which he just now noticed had a lot more scribbles on it. He hadn't realized she'd been taking notes the whole time.

She handed the pad to him.

"Your homework. Write down some things about yourself for next time, okay?"

She took a step back, as if to make room for him to get up and leave.

He frowned at her. "That's it?"

She smiled at him. "For today. I think you're next on the schedule for Thursday. Same time."

He looked between the paper and her. She laughed a little.

"Try starting with your favorite color," she said with a wink, and then turned to clean up the remaining things.

He slowly got off the bed and shuffled out into the hallway, holding the pad of paper like it was a strange object he'd never seen before. He wasn't really reading any of the things she'd put on there, just staring at it to give himself something to focus on. That visit was, by far, the most bizarre medical check-up of his life.

And it was the first that he didn't want to leave.

#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #clone force 99 #crosshair #crosshair x OC #eventual fluff #angst #crosshair needs a hug #medical things #soldier things #more tags to follow

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what-the--curtains · 3 years

Text

Alliance

Chapter 3 - The Revelation

(Mando x f!reader)

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Summary: After agreeing to help the Mandalorian, you land on Tatooine. Joined by an old friend the three of you locate a potential informant and a secret is revealed.

Notes: everytime I get a lil notification sayong someone has liked this post my heart gets so full so thank you all❤️❤️ I hope you continue to enjoy the story as much as I enjoy writing it!

Tw: Mentions of Alcohol/blood, Swearing

Tagged: @crazycookiecrumbles

Word count: 3.2k

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R-16, Geonosis, Outer Rim Territories

Your POV

“Pretty swanky” you say, taking note of the Mandalorians newly acquired ship “who’d you steal this off of.”

He boards it stopping at the top when he realizes you hadn’t followed him up. “Are you coming? They’ll notice you’re missing soon. Your client didn’t look like the kind of guy to last a whole night.”

“How do I know you’re not going to sell me off again?” you ask, currently rethinking this whole situation.

“ If that’s what I was here to do that, you’d be handcuffed already”

“Really? Because if I remember correctly had it not been for your counterpart hitting me in the head last time, you’d have been on your way back empty handed.” He shakes his helmet evidently getting aggravated.

“Where is she by the way?” you ask.

“We don’t have time for this.” he interjects, walking back down and grabbing you by the arm. You shake free “I’m not going anywhere with you if you’re going to treat me like a prisoner.” A clatter from up above draws you attention away from the conversation at hand. “You sure the kid’s not just roaming around upstairs.”

“Wait here” he exhales, disappearing briefly before returning with an unmistakable bundle.

“Anya!” you exclaim under your breath, eyes lighting up. “Impossible” you whisper as the small creature wriggles out of Mandos' arms and rushes towards you. “How?” you ask looking up. “Answer me Mandalorian” .

“The child” he responds “he brought it back to life. What?” he asks, noticing your forehead wrinkle in confusion.

“Nothing, I just thought the only people that could do that were long gone.” Perhaps you owed this child more than just a thank you for saving Anya. If he was able to give life he too was able to wield the force, your grandmother would not be happy if you left a Jedi in the arms of the empire. Knowing this you climb onto the ship with Anya.

“They’ll be a bounty on me now.” You state, sitting down in the co-pilot seat.

“Welcome to the club,” he says, jumping the ship into hyperspace.

“Let’s get a few things straight. I now understand why you traded me, and why this child must be returned safely, but do not get me wrong, we are not friends, I do not forgive you and I definitely do not trust you. I am here to repay a debt. Once I have we go our separate ways, and I never have to see beskar ever again. Got it?” He nods shifting into auto-pilot. “Good. There a shower on this thing?” you ask, your smell becoming increasingly offensive.

“Downstairs to the right.” You drop down scoping out the ship, not too shabby. You hear a clang, turning around to face the Mandalorian.

“What?” you say, concerned he’d caught you snooping.

“Here” he says, handing you a set of clothes, “should fit.” You take them, but he doesn’t move, and he’s blocking the door to the shower.

“What are you waiting for? A kiss?” You ask as you push by him into the bathroom having flustered him enough to knock him off balance. Closing the door you breathe a sigh of relief, as you lock it behind you. You get into the shower letting the water hit your face and run slowly down your body. It’s not warm, but it’s better water pressure than you’ve had in months. Looking down you see a puddle of burgundy pooling at your feet, caused by the admixture of blood, makeup and various other fluids currently coating your body. You rinse the blood and guts out of your hair scrubbing at that which had been there long enough to crust over. You wince in pain when you brush up against an old scar that must have reopened in the fight earlier today, oh well, you think, it will heal. The various wounds on your body were proof of that. After about a month of being in the rings you stopped bruising, but scarring was still a part of day to day life. They covered the markings and tattoos scattered across what was once smooth skin. Turning off the water, you step out of the shower and dry off before pulling on the black pants and long sleeve provided to you. Walking back up to the cockpit and placing Anya onto the seat you lean over the dashboard.

“Where are we going.” you ask. No reply. “Hey beskar head I asked you a question.” You say not realizing he had been staring at you. He points at the tracker sitting on the dash. “On another hunt?”

“ This was on the guy who sold me and the kid out, started beeping again while you were showering.”

“You gonna give me my weapons back?” you inquire, unsure of what the plan was.

“Still downstairs, I couldn't sell them. No one wanted them” he says locking in the coordinates and beginning his landing.

“Well I guess I was wrong Mandalorians can’t tell jokes after all. Where are we by the way”

“Tatooine home of the moisture farmers, and not the nice part”

“Think they’d choose a wetter planet to farm moisture” you say, looking out at the planet's arid landscape through the windshield. The two of you exit the cockpit and head towards the armoury.

“Careful” he says, as you reach your hand in.

“I just spent several months in combat I think I’ll be fine” you say sarcastically. You reach into the armoury, quickly pulling your hand back when the security system zaps you. “Fuck” you say bringing your hand to your mouth, as he turns off the protection. “Shut up”

“I didn’t say anything”

“But you were thinking it. So same goes.” You remove a bow and arrow, quickly realizing they weren't your originals.

“Real ones were lost in the incident, picked these up on the way to get you” he says leaning forward and removing the Anbam sniper rifle and standard issue blaster.

Anya follows the two of you out of the ship burying her nose into the sand pulling out a large bone. The Mandalorian was a man of few words so you have no idea where you were going, or what the plan was, but you were happy for the peace. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been in complete silence.

“Well, well, well.” A voice echoes. You draw your bow and the Mandalorian unholsters his blaster.

“Didn’t think you’d be back so soon and with someone so pretty.” the voice says as a figure of a tall man appears from behind a large sandstone.

“Cobb” the Mandalorian says, lowering his blaster

“Mando!” The older gentleman exclaims locking arms with the somewhat reluctant Mandalorian. You keep your bow aimed, as Anya approaches him sniffing his boots.

“And who might this be?” he asks looking at you while bending down to pet the critter.

“Ask her yourself.” Mando says, almost annoyed. Cobb was handsome, more so than most which makes you almost immediately untrusting of him. Anya seems to have taken a liking to him though so you drop the hostility for now. You lower your weapon and take his extended hand. “Cobb Vanth, i'm the marshal round these parts, Nice to meet you” he says

“y/n, and likewise” you respond, pulling your hand back.

“Where’s the kid?” Vanth asks and you see the Mandalorians' demeanor change guilt radiating off him.

“He’s gone, we're trying to find him. She’s a tracker” he says, pointing to you.

You look over at the Mandalorian, how did he know that? The two men walk in front of you, discussing the events that had unfolded a few days prior. As you make your way into the town you find yourself relaxing slightly. None of the locals looked like the kind to recognize you.

“Glad to see things have picked up since I was last here.”

“Well Mando, turns out less giant snakes makes for happier people.” Cobb says

“Funny how that works”

“C’mon, you look hungry and like you need a few drinks,” the Marshal says with a smile. “Might just run into your bounty if we’re lucky.” He throws two fingers up at the bartender, as you enter, leads you to a nearby empty booth. You thank the bartender as he brings out the food and drink.

“So who are we looking for.” The Marshal asks

“Ugly guy” Mando starts

“Well that narrows it down” you mutter earning a chuckle from the Marshal. Before he can continue describing the guy, the tracker starts to beep more consistently.

“Must be your lucky day” the marshal says coolly as an Aqualish enters into the establishment, tusks and all.

“Put your hood up” you say to the Mandalorian “he’ll recognize the armour, switch seats with me.” He obliges, pulling up the hood of his cloak as you shift over top of him so his back is now facing the door and you're sat between him and the Marshal.

“Alright looks like we’re in need of a plan” Cobb says.

“Give me 20 minutes with it, I’ll get the information” you say standing up.

“No way. Not happening. If this falls through you’re our only shot at finding the kid.” The Mandalorian says tugging you down by the back of your shirt, much to your dismay.

“Well there's always option B.” you say, pausing for a moment “you get up and he runs a mile then we're really gonna be screwed.” Seemingly having convinced the Mandalorian you were capable of getting the information needed, he agrees.

“Fine. 20 minutes, then we're coming after you.” He says. You stand up passing by the marshal and make your way over to the bar.

Mandos POV

He watches you head over, scanning the crowd for any potential threats. Even cloaked you stood out, and the odds of someone recognizing an ex-gladiator was high, especially one as successful as you. He tenses up when a Nikto approaches you. His hand subtly moves to the blaster, but not so subtly that it didn’t catch the marshals attention.

“You should relax Mando, it seems like she’s got it under control.” he says, nodding his head in your direction . He turns seeing you utter a few words to the Nikto causing it to continue on seemingly in a trance. His hand eases off the blaster and he relaxes back into his seat.

“Awfully protective” Cobb says, the Mandalorian ignores this comment, of course he was being protective, he needed you to find the child. He’s pulled out of his thoughts by a glass being dropped off at the table. Cobb throws his hand up nodding to you in thanks, the target had been acquired.

“So, where’d ya find her?” he asks, taking a sip of the drink.

“Long story.”

“Well we have twenty minutes.”

“Traded her for the child a while back she was fighting in a gladiatorial ring until about 25 hours ago.” He says as Anya settles down on the Marshal lap.

“This is quite the creature.”

“The kid saved it.”

“So that’s why she’s hanging around with your homely helmeted ass. Seriously, she looks like a fallen star.” Cobb pauses looking to his friend “Ahhh, but you’ve already noticed.” With no response the Marshal continues “Well if there’s nothing there then I’m in luck.” The helmet turns ,“A joke Mando, a joke.” The Marshal says lifting his hands up. Before he can respond the Mandalorian feels something bump against his shoulder causing him to look up just in time to see you pass by with the target in pursuit. As he watches him exit the bar he catches a glint of a small sphere, a bomb.

“dank farrik” he says, standing up and moving through the bar in pursuit.

“What happened to twenty minutes?” the Marshal shouts after him.

Your POV.

“Thanks for the drink sweetheart” the Aqualish says as you turn around, this was not your first time dealing with one, but you did hope it would be your last.

“If you’re looking to repay the favour you may be able to help me find something, I believe you’ve come across. A child. Small, green, big ears.”

The Aqualish laughs reaching its hand back for the bomb. Using the force you stay his hand a few inches away from the weapon.

“Answer me, before my patience wears thin.” You say. Patience, already wearing thin.

“Look lady I was hoping for some fun, let me go and no one has to get hurt.”

“You’re not in much of a potion to be negotiating.” You say. The unmistakable sound of a blaster going off suddenly echoes and you feel something cold and wet hit your face. You look up as the Aqualish drops to the floor standing behind him you see the Mandalorian.

“Seriously!” You say angrily, wiping the residue out of your face.

“It had a bomb.”

“I know I had it under control. Clean this up you say” pushing past him.

“Why do I…” he starts,

“Because…” you say turning on your heel to face him, “if we had done things my way there wouldn’t have been a mess to clean up at all.” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air, before returning to the bar.

You slump down in the booth next to the Marshal.

“How long did you put up with him for before you lost it?”

“Went well I take it.” He says offering you the remainder of his drink.

“Could have, if someone had just showed a modicum of trust.” You say taking a swig of the blue liquid.

“Seems like he trusts easy. He trusts you enough to ask for your help.”

“He doesn't trust me he needs my help, there's a distinct difference.” You say downing the rest of the drink causing Cobb to raise his eyebrows slightly opting to change the course of the conversation.

“Well I have to say you are just about the prettiest thing to show up here.” You roll your eyes, it wasn’t the first time you’d heard that. Despite this you find yourself smiling Cobb was quite charming after all.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on her, she doesn’t usually take to strangers.” You say moving in to scratch behind Anya’s ears.

“Got a way with all living things, though I find humans easier than animals.” He laughs.

“Well I’m sure that has something to do with your charm and face” you say. He’s about to respond when you both see a flash of armour leave the bar.

“Guess we’re leaving” He says offering you a hand, you take it and exit in pursuit of the Mandalorian.

“Mando!” the Marshal calls after him.

“Don’t leave on my account. I’ll be on the ship. If you’re not back by morning I'll find the child on my own.” he says continuing on his way.

“Oh don’t be jealous Mando we were just talking.” Cobb, says not making the situation any better.

Assuming you couldn’t piss him off anymore than he already was you pick up a stray rock and throw it at him. It hits the back of the helmet causing him to stop and turn around.

“Nice shot” the Cobb whispers to you looking impressed.

“Thanks” you say walking over to the Mandalorian.

“You okay Mandalorian?” you ask

“We should be looking for the kid not relaxing in a bar.”

“You’re not the only one who owes this child something, and don’t act like this wasn’t the first moment of freedom I’ve enjoyed in months.” with no reply you continue “What now? You killed our last lead.”

“I don’t know that’s why you’re here to figure it out.” He says sharply, the two of you now staring each other down.

“Well that’s my cue, Mando, always a pleasure, (y/n) lovely to meet you, if you’re ever looking for work I’m always in need of a deputy.” Cobb says, patting Anya on the head and heading off back towards town. You interrupt your glaring contest and wave goodbye to the Marshal. Having calmed down slightly, you turn back to the Mandalorian.

“Do you have something of his?”

“What?” the voice asks, even with the modulator you could tell he was frustrated.

“Of the child’s anything belonging to him?” you say suddenly feeling equally as irritated.

“It all went up…wait.” he says reaching into his pocket pulling something small and silver out.

“A toy of his” He says. You stick your hand out and he drops the small silver ball into your hand. As it makes contact with your skin you feel the emotion enveloping it. He cares greatly for this child, perhaps you had misjudged the Mandalorian. With this in mind you begin to gather stray stones placing them in a pattern on the ground using a nearby stick to trace lines in the sand.

“Are you going to summon him or something?” He asks.

“Not a witch.” you reply unsure if he’s joking or not.

You close your eyes, breathing deeply. The Mandalorian watches in awe as the rocks and sand begin to rise recreating a map of the galaxy. You open your eyes and walk over to Anya, bending down, you offer her the small metal ball which she sniffs. She begins circling the base of the galaxy stopping on the outer rim. Pulling more rocks forward you create a series of steps which Anya begins to ascend, sniffing the planets in front of her. She stops, sitting down so as to indicate she had located the scent.

“You know where that is?” you ask, looking up at the T visor which was still fixed on the map you had created. He hadn’t said anything in a while not that he ever really did, but you’d asked a question and needed an answer.

“Anyone home” you say, lifting your hand to knock on the helmet. He grabs your wrist before you can.

“No, I don’t, but I can get us there.” He says, gently releasing you. You drop the map to the floor leaving a small cloud of dust in its wake as you re-enter the ship.

“I hope you appreciate the delicacy of what I just did and the possible danger I’ve put us in.” You say, taking your seat, hoping you had made the correct choice in trusting him.

“How long have you known? That you have powers?” He asks, you smile at his choice of words.

“Since I was a child. My grandmother trained me in the way of the Jedi until she passed.”

“I’m sorry.” He says as he takes off.

“For what? you didn’t kill her.” After a prolonged period of silence you speak again. “I trust you’ll keep this between us, man of few words and all if it was to get out I'd take it very personally.” Taking his silence as understanding you breath a sign of relief. Leaning back you settle in for the upcoming journey.

#the mandolarian #mando x you #mando x reader #din dijarin x you #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x reader #din dijarin x reader #din djarin #star wars #alliance #chapter 3

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the-odd-job · 3 years

Text

Building Dreams chapter 2 - New Futures

Warnings: Chose Not to Use Rating: Mature Category: Other Fandom: Transformers Relationships: Sideswipe & Sunstreaker Characters: Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Unnamed Characters, Original Characters Additional Tags: Alien Culture, Dubcon Words: 7651

This is hopelessly inspired by The Handmaid's Tale that a friend got me to watch. Mind you, I haven't even gotten past the third episode of the first season yet, because instead of focusing on the show my mind instantly jumps to this. So I had to write a little thing for it. I will eventually turn this into a proper fic, which this would likely be the second chapter of, but it's probably gonna be a while before I can keep working on this. Enjoy!

( Previous )

“Figures they wouldn’t let any of the grunge clinics handle this,” Sideswipe commented as they transformed next to the walkway. There was actual sunlight here. Sunlight! The lower decks they usually hung around in couldn’t even dream of ever seeing the light of day.

“Too important, too important,” Sunstreaker agreed. The clinic they’d gotten the summons from was just across the daylit bridge. Things up here didn’t exactly gleam like he’d seen some of the other city-states do—no building in Kaon did—but the layer of grime was still not inches thick.

It wasn’t that they’d never visited the surface level, or even the cross-tower roads and walkways high above the first deck, but it definitely wasn’t their usual venue. They looked the part of guttermecha too, sadly, so they got looks from the other passersby.

But… Those looks turned into dawning understanding when their casters had a look at where they were headed. Yeah, they probably weren’t the only lowlifes who had temporarily dug their way from the gutters and up here just for this—and only to fall right back down once the deed was done.

That was going to be them too, most likely. But hey, at least they could enjoy the sunlight while it lasted. It actually warmed your plating a bit this high up, where the smog wasn’t quite as heavy. Very nice.

Then they were across the bridge, though, all the way to the doors of the upper end clinic. Normally there was no way the likes of them would’ve been welcome in a place like this, but this wasn’t normally. This was a once in a lifetime event, and a pretty important one too, no matter how low the chances of anything coming out of it were.

But a low chance wasn’t a no chance. There was a chance. Sideswipe couldn’t say they were decided on whether scoring that would be a positive or a negative thing. Not scoring it, and it was as if nothing had happened. Their life would go right back to the way it was before the summons. Back to the Pits, back to the fighting and scraping by through earning themselves some hard come victories. Nothing fancy.

Scoring it, meanwhile, would lead to a total flurry. He wasn’t even sure what exactly would happen, besides the broad and obvious of moving into a House. Everyone knew that much would happen.

But not much beyond that.

What was certain even in that uncertainty was that everything would change. For the better, or for the worse? That was a hard question to answer, all things considered.

The doors to the well lit interior of the clinic’s waiting area opened on their approach. The receptionist had one look at them and they could feel scans wash over them, before they were beckoned further in. “Here for your test, right? Take a seat, a medic will get you shortly,” he said, gesturing at the chairs in the waiting area.

They said their thanks—or Sideswipe did, Sunstreaker just nodded—before sitting down and getting comfortable for all the minute it took for a medic to come through another set of double doors that presumably led further into the clinic. “Sunstreaker, Sideswipe?” the medic asked, and they got right back up to follow the medic through the doors that opened to a hallway with more doors along it. It was as well lit as the rest here, in stark contrast to the lower decks.

The medic opened the fourth door along the hallway, and stepped aside to let them through first.

They shared a glance. This was it. Moment of truth or whatever. How lucky or unlucky would they be?

“Let’s get this over with,” Sunstreaker grunted after a few seconds, entering the room, Sideswipe on his heels. There was a desk with a console at the back of the room, an exam table in the middle, some equipment and other instruments along the walls. A pretty standard medical room as far as they could tell, and still vastly better looking than any of the ones on the lower levels.

But that was to be expected.

“Have a seat,” was all their medic said, waving vaguely in the direction of the central berth. They took the invitation and walked over to the center of the room, both of them hopping up to sit on the berth’s edge. The medic busied himself along a table with all sorts of stuff on it, readying things before placing them on a cart that he pulled along with him when he finally came to them.

“Split-spark? If you’d merge for me,” he instructed them. Usual request whenever their spark was going to get prodded at, and always just as awkward. Not just because they needed to do it in front of someone, but also because… Well.

They turned to each other, parted their chestplates, and it was only because of practice that they could even halfway elegantly close the distance between them while sitting and twisting at the waist just to allow the maneuver. Their spark halves jumped for each other, as always, melding together almost as if it had never gotten split in two in the first place. That left their spark very comfortable, but their frames very uncomfortable because of the position they needed to hold to maintain the merge—and then, pull apart just enough to leave their combined spark hovering between them and allow a third party access to it.

The medic waited patiently through the process and only stepped up to them once they were set and ready to get this over with as quickly as possible. “Let me make sure your spark really is mature, first,” said the medic, bringing out a handheld scanner and aiming it at their spark. “You’re old enough that it should be…” the scanner beeped, “Ah, it is. Excellent. Now then!”

“Why do you gotta wait until the spark’s mature, anyway?” Sideswipe interjected as the medic busied himself with another device. “Couldn’t you just test it right in the beginning?”

He was half expecting to just get ignored or brushed aside, but to his surprise he actually got an actual, informative answer. “Sparks change plenty through the process of their growth. You’ll get all kinds of false readings before things stabilize to their final shape… So, someone could come out positive as a fledgling, only for that to turn into a true negative once their spark reaches maturity.”

“Huh,” Sideswipe noted, ever the brainiac. Now that it got mentioned, the data of his basic education helpfully fetched and integrated just that bit of information. Way to make a mech feel like he should’ve always known that, because he had always known that, it just… Hadn’t come up before.

Which probably said something about how poorly they’d had even the most basic things integrated, but hey. Couldn’t have everything!

“Alright, stay still, please,” the medic went on to say, bringing the reasonably complex looking contraption he’d been fiddling with to their spark and carefully positioning it to cradle their lifeforce, without cutting their spark’s access to their frames.

Staying still seemed like a good idea lest something got disconnected anyway. It was always a bit embarrassing when one of them dropped down grey because their spark lost contact with that frame.

“There might be some discomfort,” came all the warning they got mere seconds before the device whirred to life. Sunstreaker grunted and Sideswipe hissed as it began to feed dead energy into their spark, the medic focused on the process and the readings.

It was uncomfortable, that was no lie, but it didn’t actually hurt. There was a steady burn and an unpleasant sense of fullness, but no actual pain.

It didn’t last long either, but even before the device died back down, the medic’s optics brightened and Sideswipe could feel his tanks sinking.

Jackpot?

Jackpot. “Congratulations! Your spark is a carrier. Very good odds of conception too.” The mech seemed genuinely excited, quickly but carefully pulling away the testing apparatus and setting it aside. “You can close your chestplates now,” he said, almost as an afterthought just as a door at the back of the room opened to admit an enforcer.

Flurry, huh? The brothers were quick to separate their spark into two again, locking their respective halves back within the confines of their respective frames, and experimentally dropped off the berth.

No one told them they shouldn’t have. The medic was back at his console, jacked into it with a procession of information flitting across the screen, downloaded to a datapad by the looks of things. The enforcer stood by, and Sideswipe desperately wanted to ask now what, but his vocalizer was oddly strangled. He didn’t get nerves often, fright even more rarely, but right now he was pretty sure he was feeling some of that. Wasn’t it justified enough in the circumstances?

No going back to their life as it was, now. This was the “everything would change,” whether they liked it or not.

And they still weren’t sure how much they did or didn’t like it.

Was it okay if it felt pretty surreal for now? Even though they probably should have prepared themselves for this? But it happened barely ever.

How were they supposed to expect they would test positive, when practically no one else did?

They weren’t prepared.

The medic disconnected the datapad once he had finished his download, and handed it to the enforcer who accepted it with a nod and subspaced it with barely a glance.

Then he turned to them while the medic went right back to doing whatever on his console. “Do you have any personal belongings you need to get?” the enforcer asked from them. His voice was very pleasant, Sideswipe noted even as his processors were busy firing empty.

Sunstreaker wasn’t doing a whole lot better, but still managed to answer, “We… Have a room in the Pits?”

The enforcer nodded. “Please come along and send me the location. I will escort you there for you to get your possessions.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sunstreaker breathed, uncharacteristically inelegant, and Sideswipe uncharacteristically quiet. He just still felt about ready to faint while his mind tried to wrap itself around this.

It wasn’t doing a very good job of it, but Sunstreaker nevertheless sent the location for the arena they made their home in and they followed the enforcer through the room’s further door, into what looked like staff only area, and through those to a back door that opened to daylight again.

Another enforcer was already waiting by the nearby transformation lane. “Please drive between us,” was the request they got, and since the frag when had enforcers been so polite?

But they were very polite now. “Sure,” Sideswipe managed to find his voice enough to say and he and Sunstreaker stepped to the transformation lane, one enforcer in front of them, another behind them. They all shifted into their alt-modes and the one at the front led the way with the one in the back keeping very close to Sideswipe’s bumper, in turn forcing Sunstreaker right to the rear of the enforcer in the front.

Probably just as intended, there.

They took turns, loops, and ramps, slowly circling towards the ground level, deeper into the shadows of the towers, and then diving under Cybertron’s surface entirely—into the lower decks where enforcers weren’t a very welcome sight. They weren’t about to get rid of their escort though, even if they’d wanted to. Apparently things just didn’t work like that anymore.

Pits, where the slag were they going from here?

This detour into the arena would probably be the last familiar thing they’d get to experience in a long time. Sideswipe’s spark was fluttering with longing even before they came to the arena’s gladiators’ entrance and transformed back to their bipedal modes, all four of them. Still one enforcer stayed ahead of them, another right behind them, as they were led into the building’s greasy underbelly, towards the fighters’ quarters.

They got looks. They got so many looks even Sideswipe ducked his helm self-consciously, and he was a showman by trade.

But this wasn’t fighting on the arena floor under hundreds of optics thirsty for bloodshed. This was them getting marched right into their new life in front of mecha they knew—maybe not quite friends, most of them, but acquaintances, some long time so. Handlers, newbies, veterans, they all stopped what they were doing and stared as they walked by. The enforcers never once averted their optics from straight ahead and Sunstreaker did his best to do the same, but Sideswipe couldn’t stop stealing sideways glances at everyone.

“Did you test positive?!” one certified friend whispered urgently as he trotted up to them—only to get pushed aside by one of the enforcers.

“Please keep your distance,” was the order their friend was given, spoken in a firm rumble.

Frag.

Sideswipe nodded mutely before he was herded forward, leaving more than a few dropped jaws in their wake.

They walked all the way to the dinged door of the room they had been given. It was a tiny thing, barely big enough for one mech to reside in semi-comfortably, and they’d always shared it.

It was better than out there on the streets, though.

They didn’t own much, never had, and they quickly gathered up the few worldly possessions that didn’t make permanent homes in their subspaces. The enforcers stood right outside the (open) door, one looking at them, another scanning the hallway.

They were being guarded so, so closely. Imagine that, jumping from certified nobodies to some of the most valuable mecha on all of Cybertron. Yeah, there was no way anything would stay the same from here on out. And… Some of that change would probably be for the better.

But there were good chances some of it would be for the worse.

They would probably find all that out soon. Very soon, because they had one more glance around the room, concluded they’d gotten everything… And looked back at the enforcers. “Are you ready?” the one that had been all but staring at them the whole time asked.

They nodded. The doorway was cleared for them to step through, and back to that march they were, except now in the opposite direction.

There were even more mecha congregated around to stare at their little procession. No doubt news traveled fast. The twins had finally reached maturity, went to get their test and surprise surprise! They were positive. Had any of them ever seen that happen before? Two gladiators, that weren’t that bad but weren’t some of the best either, getting pulled from their lowly origins to… What?

What were they headed to?

The enforcers kept anyone from getting too close, clearing the way for them as they walked through the halls that were quickly growing crowded. Their pace was swift, like they wanted out of here as fast as possible. Sideswipe could imagine it. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to your precious little carriers, and this was a dangerous locale. Best not to linger.

But it had been their locale. They knew how things ran. It was their home, the place they felt like belonging, messed up as that was.

No, had been. Had been their home. Wasn’t going to be that from now on.

What would be?

Pits, there were so many questions he had, but he wasn’t sure the enforcers were the right persons to ask any of those from, and besides… They’d probably find out at least most of the answers soon enough.

There were mecha gathered even on the outside of the arena, apparently there just to see them as if they were some overnight celebrities. And maybe they sort of were with how much this kind of slag just didn’t happen. There were murmurs aplenty all around as they stepped through the doors and back to the street, although no one tried to actually approach them. He wasn’t sure if the enforcers would’ve been able to stop them even if they’d tried, what with there only being two of them, but… You didn’t touch carriers. You just didn’t. That was ingrained so deep that it looked like even rabble like this followed that rule.

Probably worked best for them. They were decent at taking care of themselves, but they might’ve been a bit in over their heads here, looking at some of the mecha busy ogling them.

Still, everyone cleared them room to get to the road, transform, and off they were again—sandwiched between the enforcers all over again.

Except this time they didn’t know where they were headed, and no one bothered to fill them in. He would really like to know that though, so Sideswipe reached with his short range communications and took it upon himself to ask, ::Uh… Where are we going?::

::House Beta,:: he got an answer from one of the enforcers promptly. ::They have the accommodations for you.::

House. This quickly? It hadn’t even been two hours, and they were already headed for a House?

Primus, they didn’t dawdle with these things.

He had more questions too, but lapsed into silence as they drove, the enforcers leading them back towards the surface. He still didn’t think they were the right people to ask all the things from. At the House would be mecha better suited for that, probably—and to that end, once they were on the first deck again, they took course towards the city center and presumably the House they were going to.

House Beta. Where was that? He had no idea. It had never been prudent for them to know these things. Maybe it would be now. Or maybe it still wouldn’t matter once they got there. You didn’t exactly see carriers walking about. The location might be completely irrelevant, at least compared to them actually being there.

How fine were they with that? He wasn’t sure yet. He wasn’t sure about a damn thing yet.

They didn’t make it all the way to the city center before the enforcers began to choose ramps to take them above the surface again, onto the roads traversing between the towers. Fliers flitted above and below them, and the sun got warmer the higher they went.

And they went as high as the roads would take them. Once there was nothing but open sky above them, the enforcers stopped at one of the towers and transformed. The twins followed suit, just to get quickly led not to the main doors into the tower itself, but to what looked like maintenance or staff entrance.

But this high up even those doors opened to a spacious, well lit hallway, unlike you would’ve expected from the lower end areas down below where barely the environment the customers were in mattered, nevermind that of the actual workers.

Onward they went to a set of elevators, barely passing by a single mech—probably just how the enforcers wanted it. The elevators here weren’t as big as he assumed those in the common areas were, but they still easily fit all four of them.

Up they went. Sideswipe followed the numbers rise on the elevator’s display, showing how high in the tower they were going.

They were going damn high. Even with the elevator moving fast it took them a good while before they began to slow down. They’d already been in the upper third of the tower. Now they were in the middle of the upper third.

He had never been this high up, but once the elevator stopped and its doors opened, there were no windows to be seen no matter how he’d hoped for some, just to get a glimpse of the view. Instead there were just more well lit hallways, still appearing to be the back areas of the tower where there was really no one around, and even the few mecha they passed didn’t stop to gawk.

Just a glance, a knowing smile, sometimes a nod. Nothing more than that. They minded their own business.

But apparently everyone could guess why they were here. Not that it was hard. Two guttermechs getting escorted around by enforcers in a place like this, and not towards the closest exit?

There weren’t a whole lot of reasons for why that would be.

They walked along the twisting corridors for a decent while before there was a set of double doors along an otherwise empty hallway. There was a guard standing just outside the door, painted deep, rich brown with just accents of white, who looked their way as they approached. He… Smiled at them. The expression was genuinely friendly, as far as they could tell.

Then the guard nodded at the enforcers and opened the door.

Two more guards were on the other side, by all appearances already waiting for them.

And just like that the enforcers handed them from one set of guardians to another, along with what was probably the datapad the medic had given them. That was given to one of the guards and they were guided into the room, just a little dimmer than the hallway, and then the doors closed behind them.

Locked, too. They could hear that much.

“Ah, you’re here! Welcome!” said a mech that was at the back of the room but now hurried closer.

All the way closer, enough to grab Sideswipe by the hand with both of his servos, giving it a small shake. Luckily he didn’t repeat the gesture on Sunstreaker, although Sideswipe wasn’t sure they weren’t both so dumbfounded by everything that his brother would’ve even remembered to react. It was one thing to get driven around the city to a fate they weren’t even sure about, quite another to get hit by the whirlwind of energy that surrounded this particular mech.

That went to introduce himself very quickly. “My name is Dawnlight, Head of this House. Welcome to Kaon’s Breeder House Beta.”

“Hi?” Sideswipe tried, earning a smile for his trouble before Dawnlight had a proper look at them and gasped in what didn’t look like exaggerated horror.

“Oh, you poor darlings!” he said with feeling, prompting them both to glance down their frames.

But no, there wasn’t more than the usual scuffs and grime, but apparently that was enough to make Dawnlight react. He continued, “Let’s get you settled in, then you can clean yourselves off. Maybe a nice oil bath too? You must be feeling awful. And a thorough medical check afterwards.”

“Uh…” but they weren’t much given a chance to say anything before Dawnlight ushered them further into the room. The two guards in the room trailed after them, although they let the bustling mech handle things after handing that one damned datapad to him. Dawnlight had a brief look at it before subspacing it.

“You must have so many questions!” Wasn’t that true. “I will do my best to explain everything, and if you have any questions despite my best attempts, ask! But first, could you please empty your subspaces onto this table,” Dawnlight requested with one of those really warm smiles that made Sideswipe really unsure of how he was supposed to react to the mech. The table’s surface was tapped with a digit.

Sideswipe glanced at Sunstreaker and after a delay Sunstreaker looked from Dawnlight back at him, but… Slag, what were they going to do? Fight the procedures? What would that get them?

Sunstreaker shrugged at him, and as one they began to empty their subspaces. There wasn’t much, just some knick-knacks and small weapons like knives, a few datapads, art and polishing supplies on Sunstreaker’s part too.

Anything dangerous they set down Dawnlight deftly picked up and moved to the side, leaving only harmless things on the table. “Do you do arts, honey?” he asked from Sunstreaker at the sight of the few art related things they’d managed to scrounge together. The golden twin nodded mutely after a moment’s hesitation, and Dawnlight’s smile lit back up. “It is so good to have hobbies! You will have plenty of chances to express yourself creatively here.”

Wasn’t that nice. They were getting relieved of anything they could use to harm others (or themselves), but there would be chances for art. Even their datapads—Dawnlight took out two datapads of his own, plugged both of them into each datapad they set down, and downloaded the contents from their datapads onto his datapads, before setting their datapads to the side with their other dangerous things.

Something was off here. Not just about Dawnlight’s whole demeanor, but just… With the whole thing. Was this standard practice?

Honestly, it probably was considering what kind of places the Houses were, from the little they knew about them. There was no way everyone was happy to end up in them.

Were they happy? Sideswipe could answer that with a firm no, but what he couldn’t say was that he was unhappy about it either. Maybe just because he still knew jackall about the whole deal, but Dawnlight had promised answers, so maybe things would clear up soon.

Once they’d emptied their subspaces, one of the guards jacked into both of them and used very high level security overrides on their systems to make sure they weren’t hiding anything more, and if that didn’t feel invasive Sideswipe wasn’t sure what would. Sunstreaker growled an objection too, but Dawnlight merely shushed him, like he was a goddamn youngling.

His brother growled some more at that, but it still got confirmed their subspaces were empty, and that they had no unacceptably risky body modifications while at it. Everything deemed safe enough they got to subspace again, while the dangerous things… Sideswipe wouldn’t have bet on ever seeing those things again.

“Come along then, I will introduce you to your new home,” Dawnlight said once they were all set, still smiling that somewhat patronizing smile that was really starting to get on Sideswipe’s nerves, and he knew Sunstreaker was several shades more aggravated than even he was. But whether they liked it or not, Dawnlight led the way to a door at the back of the room that opened to yet another hallway, though this one short.

Both of the guards followed them too. “Would you like separate rooms, or share?” Dawnlight asked from them, interjecting with a brief, “Our medical bay is down this corridor,” pointing towards a bend in the hallway, before giving them a chance to answer.

It was an easy answer. “Share.” Dawnlight nodded at them, and that seemed to be that.

They didn’t go towards the medical bay, but instead took a small ramp to the next story down. A larger hall greeted them, with another guard sitting at a desk along it. He smiled and nodded at them in greeting as they walked by him to a sturdy set of sliding doors, that opened to another short hallway.

There were no guards here, but Sideswipe would’ve bet his aft there were cameras.

At the end of that hallway was another set of sliding double doors, and by the looks of things all of the doors they’d passed required credentials to open—credentials they weren’t given.

These doors opened to them too, and on the other side was… A large room. The walls of it were a warm two-shade brown, the floor a bit darker. The center of the room was two stories high with a walkway circling the space on the second floor, shading the edges of the first floor. Two ramps led up to the second story on both sides of the room.

And in the walkway’s shade, the walls were lined with numbered doors at steady intervals.

Sideswipe’s optics drew back to the main space from there, to a large entertainment center. There were plenty of comfortable looking seats around it, and yet more tables elsewhere in the room. Shelves stood on one wall between the many doors, full of what looked like games and other pastimes from this distance.

A few mecha were sitting around as they entered, looking up at them. Some of them smiled and waved, others didn’t much react.

Sideswipe waved back experimentally.

It was homey, all things considered. There was enough light that little was left in shade, and there looked to be a lot to do and lot to get comfortable on, and… Really, it was just a lot nicer than anything in the Pits had been, or frag, anything they’d ran into before the Pits for that matter.

It looked like an upgrade, but he wasn’t fully convinced it was one anyway, because aside from the niceties it mostly just reminded him of a prison block.

Was that what they were, now? Prisoners?

And guards. There were more brown and white clad guards. One was standing right by the door, he could see another leaning on the railing on the second floor, and a third was at the back of the room, talking with another mech that didn’t look like a guard himself.

The ones that had accompanied them kept accompanying them as Dawnlight gestured at the room at large and led the way further into it. “This is the common area. There’s much entertainment provided as you can see, but if there’s ever any you feel like you’re lacking, all you need to do is say so and I’ll see what I can do about it.”

They arrived to the back right corner of the room, to an open doorframe. Dawnlight stopped next to it, smiled at them, and encouraged them to look inside. They did. “This is the kitchen. The energon dispenser is always stocked, and the appliances are all in your use if you ever get the fancy to make anything. Remember to share with the others, though!”

“Are there ratios?” Sideswipe asked. The kitchen wasn’t big, but it was well equipped. Anything a mech could need to make all sorts of things.

A couple more tables with chairs around them were inside, too.

“Ratios?” Dawnlight asked, again looking more than a little horrified. Sideswipe quickly received a reassuring pat on his arm. “Oh, dear, no. You can fuel as much as you want. Never you worry about that.”

That was… A decently pleasant surprise and a nice change of pace from what their whole goddamn life had been like so far. Sideswipe nodded his understanding, and… Slag, it might be nice to have full tanks for once.

So, that was another good thing about this, apparently.

They followed Dawnlight to the left corner next. This one had a door, but it had no number on it, and when Dawnlight opened it, “Here are the washracks. You’re in desperate need of them, aren’t you, darlings? They’re very well stocked, but if you’re ever missing something despite that, all you need to do is say so!”

The room wasn’t fancy, but it was functional. There were several showers along the walls, baskets hung next to them full of washing supplies, and even a small oil bath in the middle—big enough for two mechs by Sideswipe’s judgement.

Primus knew he’d never even seen an oil bath before. It would be fun to test that out.

So… This wasn’t all negative. Really, it wasn’t, but it still… Didn’t sit all well with him.

The guards continued to follow them as Dawnlight directed them up one ramp to the second floor. He turned left once he reached the walkway and the twins followed him for a few steps before he stopped by one door—door numbered twenty-two—and opened it. “Alright loves, this will be your room,” he announced with a smile, gesturing for them to go see it.

They did, albeit a bit hesitantly. Sunstreaker stepped into the room first, Sideswipe on his heels, and together they had a look around.

It wasn’t… Big. Far from it, but it still had well enough space for a double berth, one nightstand-like table next to it, a sofa for two in one corner, a desk with a chair in another, and a set of drawers with a mirror above them, and one single light at the center of the ceiling. The walls and floor were the same as elsewhere in the House, and another unobtrusive, closed door sat on the back wall.

There were just the furnishings though, no other signs that it had ever been lived in. But that probably figured if it was free for them.

“You can customize things to your liking and make this look a bit more lived in,” Dawnlight addressed just that detail, watching them as they took in their new… Home. Apparently. “Just don’t move the furniture around without a go ahead, we want to keep things easy to access.”

“How do we like… Get stuff to customize things with?” Sideswipe asked after there wasn’t anything more to see in the relatively spartan room, looking back at Dawnlight.

“Oh! Silly me, I nearly forgot these,” Dawnlight gasped, quickly pulling the two datapads from his subspace that he’d uploaded all of the contents of their old datapads to. Each of them was handed one. “The House has its own application, installed on your ‘pads, that all of the carriers and staff can access. Browse the datanet for things to buy as you normally would, and then place a requisition order through the app. Everything reasonable will usually be granted. Decorations, games, book files, movies, you name it.”

They accepted the datapads. Sideswipe turned his on and… Aside from the mentioned application at easy access, it looked just like any datapad.

He didn’t think it was, though. “Why couldn’t we have our old ‘pads?” he asked, looking up from the screen.

Dawnlight didn’t look too perturbed by the question and just smiled that smile again. It was like he thought he was talking to children or something. “Safety reasons. That is our primary goal here, to make sure you’re secure and comfortable.”

“So these are bugged,” Sideswipe guessed. “You can see everything we do with them.”

Still Dawnlight gave no signs of being uncomfortable with his forwardness. Neither did the two guards for that matter. “That is correct! We don’t want you to end up in any dangerous situations, even just on the datanet.”

“Right,” Sideswipe said, a bit skeptical. Was it about their safety, or was it just about controlling them and… Every aspect of their lives from now on, it looked like. “Is there something we’re not supposed to be doing with these?”

“You will be informed if something you’re doing is deemed too risky, you don’t need to worry about it yourself.”

So getting controlled, practically imprisoned, and treated like younglings that didn’t know near enough about life and how things worked? Though, granted, they didn’t yet know too much about how things worked, but pits, the tone Dawnlight was using.

But speaking of imprisoned, “Are we allowed to leave?” Sideswipe asked.

He was pretty sure he already knew the answer, and Dawnlight confirmed that with a simple, “No. For your safety you will remain here where we can keep you safe and guarded at all times.”

Imprisoned, then. “How long?” he still asked, but he feared he knew that answer too.

And it really was a displeased kind of expectation of the worst sort right then. Here was the downside to all of this. “Rest of your lives, ideally,” Dawnlight answered.

Ideally, he said. As if there was anything ideal about… This.

But what had he thought would happen? Something other than this? There was nothing other than this for anyone who came out positive. Just a House, and… Everything that happened in a House. “Right,” Sideswipe said again, more quietly this time, and let his optics fall back to the datapad in his hands. For all the positives, the improvements in their future quality of life compared to their old one… As much fuel as they needed and then some, washracks, things to do…

But not allowed to leave, ever, and used just for what the house was named for until their spark gave out from the strain. That was what carriers did.

Even with all the improvements, could anyone really want this? Would they have preferred their life of hardship, where they at least were free?

There was a bit of desperation, right next to the knowledge that there wasn’t really anything they could do. They could fight, but that was what everything here was designed for—to make fighting useless, make things inevitable.

But it was a tough thing to just accept, either.

“Let me walk you through how things are run here, now,” Dawnlight continued, sitting on the berth and patting it on either side of him in invitation. Sideswipe didn’t really want to go, Sunstreaker even less so, but it wouldn’t help them at all if they didn’t know how things worked. No matter what they would choose to do, being informed was a good first step.

So, despite their reluctance, they sat down on both sides of the House’s Head. Dawnlight pulled out a datapad of his own after they were settled, hooking to it and bringing out… Their information. They recognized that much, from their pictures and spark signature if nothing else. Everything the government knew about them was on display, from their activation to their recorded history and medical profile—that now had the additional and most important note that their spark was a carrier. “This is your file,” Dawnlight said. “For security reasons I can’t show the profiles of the other carriers, but theirs are the same. Now, when a client comes in to purchase a newspark, this is what they will be shown.” He scrolled along the information provided, of which there wasn’t a hell of a lot what with their age and… Past social status, but it was as thorough as it was going to get. “They will pick either one of the available carriers, or ask to be put on a waiting list for one who is heavy at the time. I will publish your profile right after we’re done here and hopefully you’ll get your first client soon.”

Hopefully? Sideswipe wasn’t all that hopeful and Sunstreaker’s engine rumbled unhappily—but that was how things worked. They wouldn’t be able to put it off forever. Sooner or later someone would pick them.

“The client will see you here in your room, coming only through the second door,” Dawnlight said, pointing at the nondescript door at the back wall. So that was what that was for. “A guard will be present at all times, so have no fear of being left alone with a sleazy sort of person.”

Wasn’t that nice, being concerned over leaving them alone with bad players.

Slag all of this. “You only need to provide your cooperation for the sparking the first time, understandably. This isn’t a whore house.

“Whether the newspark’s frame is built externally or coded internally is up to the client. If they choose the former, you won’t see them again. If they choose the latter and want to contribute, regular appointments will be set up to a frequency of their preference. Whichever one of your frames is carrying at the time will cooperate with interface. Again, a guard will be present at all times; you and the newspark will stay safe.”

And there it was, the crux of a carrier’s life—glorified rape, basically. Their willingness to consent didn’t matter one bit. “What if we refuse?” Sunstreaker asked sharply anyway.

There was no refusing and they both knew it. “Oh, honey, don’t be silly,” Dawnight chastised him. “You’re in the exceptional position of providing Cybertron with new life. This is an honor many wish they had.”

They weren’t so sure about that with the level of trade-off involved, but Dawnlight probably wouldn’t hear any arguments. Sunstreaker growled but didn’t say any more.

“You will care for the newspark to the best of your ability during the carry, of course. Otherwise you’re free to spend your time how you wish. You can lock the door so the other carriers can’t come disturb you, but naturally the guards and staff will always have access. There will be three guards present in the living area at all times. If you need anything, approach any one of them.

“Remember, we’re all here for you,” Dawnlight finished with feeling, looking between them earnestly. “Anything and everything you need will be provided.”

That was… Definitely dread and desperation that was starting to take a hold of their spark. The good qualities of the place? Not really enough to outweigh all the bad. The things they’d need to do just because they happened to be capable of carrying, losing their freedom, their control of their own life, their right to their own life.

But that was what happened to carriers. They’d always known that.

They just hadn’t really thought it would happen to them.

“Is there any break between carries?” Sideswipe asked quietly, clenching his servos around the datapad still in his hold. He didn’t want to be here anymore, and he didn’t want to accept this, and he didn’t want this to be his life—but no matter what they wanted, that was all theirs now.

“A few days, provided there is another request placed on you.”

A few days..? “Is that even enough time to recover from separation?” Sunstreaker asked, growling anew.

Dawnlight didn’t take offense and answered as calmly and cheerfully as he had for the whole duration, “Medically speaking, yes. It is most desirable that you produce as many newsparks as possible. The shorter the breaks, the better.”

Sideswipe closed his optics, fighting back tears. On some level they’d known this too. Carriers were bred until their spark couldn’t take it anymore. That was just how it went. For reasons of productivity, it made sense that there would barely be any downtime.

“Cool,” Sideswipe whispered his understanding even as Sunstreaker’s engine revved. His brother was getting angry, where Sideswipe was mostly starting to feel defeated. Could they just… Go back to the way things were. He was starting to understand why some unfortunate individuals tried to avoid ever getting tested, no matter how illegal that was and how heavily the hammer came down when you were caught doing that. And it wasn’t an if, it was a when. Maybe you could avoid it for a time, but just their species’ mechanical, connected nature meant it couldn’t work forever.

Sucked to be Cybertronian in that aspect.

And in this aspect.

Dawnlight patted Sideswipe’s thigh, though he was smart enough to keep his hands off of Sunstreaker. “Get settled in and go make some friends once you’re ready, hmm? I’m sure you’ll fit right in! And remember, if you need anything, just talk to one of the guards and they will help you.”

With that Dawnlight got up and left the room, the two guards disappearing with him. The door closed behind them, and… Then they were alone.

Silence ruled for a good while before Sideswipe released a big gush of air from his vents and set the rigged datapad down to free his arms for dropping his whole damn helm into them.

It had only been… What, four hours since their test? And already they were here, thoroughly trapped and with all the promises of safety and security, but with no fucks given about what they wanted.

How the pit had things gone like this..?

“What are we going to do?” he asked so quietly he wasn’t sure Sunstreaker could even hear, but it didn’t matter. Their spark rang with the question too.

The answer he got, spoken almost as quietly, wasn’t very comforting. “I don’t know.”

What were even their options? Go along with things and get sparked over and over again? Or fight it and get sparked over and over again anyway? No doubt the guards and administration had all the techniques for wrangling uncooperative breeders into compliance. How often did that even happen, that someone just couldn’t accept their fate and put up a bloody fight? They couldn’t be the only ones entertaining the idea.

How many of them eventually gave up, when all their fighting proved futile?

They knew what was expected of them. Go along with everything asked of them, as long as it followed the rules of conduct around breeders, and those of the House. And at all times there would be guards around to make sure those rules were followed by all parties—and that they were doing what they were supposed to be doing. That was the deal, wasn’t it?

And in return they got a comfortable life in a gilded prison, never needing to yearn for anything except freedom and a right to their own bodies. In the past were the days of scraping by, of not having enough fuel, or access to basic maintenance, not always even chances to clean themselves.

In the past were the days of going where they wanted and doing what they wanted, too. Sideswipe was pretty sure he would have picked that life with all of its difficulties over this life, despite all of its upsides.

But they’d tested positive, and this was what happened when you tested positive.

“Ugh… Might as well enjoy what there is to enjoy,” Sideswipe spoke up after another long silence, lifting his helm. Feeling sorry for himself was tiresome and wouldn’t get him anywhere anyway. Just… Roll with the punches. Look for the silver lining and all that. Focusing on the negative wasn’t like him anyway. “That oil bath is really calling to me. And so’s a warm cube of energon.”

Sunstreaker snorted next to him before the sound was followed by a sigh. “Can’t disagree with that.”

( Next )

#transformers #maccadam #sunstreaker #sideswipe #breeder au #fic #2021

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libermachinae · 3 years

Text

Fault Lines Under the Living Room

Part II: Breathe - Chapter 5: Thoughts Expand in Blooms

Also available on AO3! Summary: The consequences of Ratchet and Rodimus' chase become known. Chapter Word Count: 2644

---

“Try again.”

“Yes, sir. Rodimus, come in Rodimus. This is Blaster, coming to you live from the Lost Light command deck. Do you read me? Status and further instruction requested. Over.”

Years of handling the Wreckers’ fluctuating schedules meant it was no effort for Ultra Magnus to resist rubbing his optics as he watched the progress of their three recovery speeders. Siren, Crossblades, and Waverider had launched with minimal deviations from standard procedure (Crossblades would receive a write-up for nonessential helical rotation) and tracked Arcee’s shuttle up to acceptable pursuit range. That was where the chase had stalled, as Rodimus had provided no further instructions and protocol required command from a captain before they could proceed. Either captain.

Protocol fell apart when one refused to leave his hab and the other had stopped answering his comms. Magnus started mentally writing up a proposal for temporary transfer of pursuit command responsibilities while they waited.

The control panel refreshed as the latest information poured in. The speeders were entering upper atmosphere, rotating in pyramid formation in the shuttle’s trail. Acceleration had decreased to the minimum required to maintain orbit and altitude held steady as they sailed through Scarvix’s exosphere.

“Ultra Magnus, I have a visual on Rodimus’ ship,” Bluestreak reported.

“Pull it up.”

The datafeeds compressed to the right of the screen, replaced with the compound live feed from the speeders, displaying the shuttle’s stern, the glow of its thrusters closer to a lightbulb than anything spaceworthy. The engines were keeping it aloft, but there was an unnatural stillness about it, like debris floating through space.

“Again.”

Blaster adjusted settings on the ship’s communications hub and leaned into the mic.

“Rodimus, come in Rodimus. This—”

There was a crackle and buzz as the ship’s receiver finally picked up a signal.

“This is Rodi—ack, Ratchet, this is Ratchet. We read you.”

Blaster’s shoulders relaxed as he transferred primary input to the third in command’s station, but Magnus did not match his relief. Underneath the fritz of the shuttle’s poorly maintained equipment, Ratchet’s voice was shaking.

“Ratchet, this is Ultra Magnus. Report.”

“Report. Report… um, Arcee’s gone. We lost her. Satellite. Crash. Is Cyclonus there?”

“No. What is your—”

“Get him,” Ratchet interrupted.

“Where is Rodimus?” Magnus asked. Ratchet was supposed to be one of the good ones, recognizing his place within the chain of commands. Making demands was out of character for him.

“Here! I’m here,” Rodimus’ voice crackled down the line. “Present. Available. Get Cyclonus.”

Magnus sent the ping and tagged it urgent. Cyclonus had never been known for tardiness, but that put it on the record.

“What is your status?” he asked as he acknowledged Cyclonus’ response.

“Good! Weird? Ratchet is banged up, which is bad. He suffered impact shock in his lower spinal strut, chance there’s a disk… how do I…”

Magnus’ orbital ridge twitched, a coding bug when expression protocols tried to assign a profile to stress of unknown origin. He wiped the cache, regaining his neutral set, and sent a command to have the speeders approach the shuttle. Visual on the command deck would be helpful, but flight integrity was his main concern. If neither Rodimus nor Ratchet was in the right mind to pilot, they would need to engage in emergency grounding maneuvers.

“Ratchet, are you still there? Rodimus sounds incoherent; what is his status?”

“He’s fine.” His voice was briefly drowned out by shuffling and crashing on the other end. “—cessor’s functioning normally. It’s loud, but it’s working.”

“He’s overheating?” Magnus asked.

“Not his fans, his thoughts.”

“Is his comm link malfunctioning?”

“He’s bright like the goddamn sun. I can barely get two words in. Will you shut that off? ”

“Ratchet?” Speeders were closing in.

“Not you.”

“Stop yelling at me!” Rodimus snapped, volume raising and lowering like he was pacing around the microphone. “I heard you the first time.”

“I don’t see how. I can barely hear myself.”

“Aw, poor Rodimus, doesn’t get to hear his own voice.”

“ You’re Rodimus, that’s my line.”

“Rodimus, Ratchet, Waverider is en route to board,” Ultra Magnus interjected. “If you are able, please lower the hatch for arrival, otherwise he will engage emergency stove—”

“No, don’t!”

It wasn’t just that they shouted at the same time, but that Rodimus and Ratchet’s voices matched in pitch, tone, and cadence which caused Magnus, for the third time in his life, to forget what he had been saying.

“Is Cyclonus there?” Rodimus asked.

“There’s something on board,” Ratchet said. “Don’t know what it is, but you can’t let anyone else get near it.”

“It did a weird thing. I’m Rodimus, but also I’m Ratchet? And both?”

“Those sound like the same things, Rodimus,” Magnus said, half distracted as he instructed Waverider to return to position.

“They’re not,” Ratchet said.

“Sir?” Cyclonus’ voice came as a blessing. Magnus gestured him forward.

“Cyclonus just arrived,” he announced. “Cyclonus, Rodimus and Ratchet uncovered something on Arcee’s shuttle. It’s…” He blanked.

“I can feel Ratchet’s processor,” Rodimus said, rushing like it would make any of this comprehensible. “He’s thinking and it’s all really fast and hard, but it’s not rough like you would expect? Like, the feeling of grit in your gears, I thought it would be like that, but it’s more like there’s just a lot of gears and it takes a lot of power to turn them all, and it’s too hard to decide whether to focus on just one or the entire thing. And he keeps thinking about me and my thoughts and how they’re not like that, and I’m thinking about him, and then I get stuck because all the thoughts start to sound the same and I don’t know which ones came from me or which are Ratchet or even which me is me. It’s all a big thought reservoir, a—a thought battle, an entire brain war and I don’t know which side I’m on!”

Cyclonus’ gaze was steady at the screen. Once it was clear that Rodimus was done, he leaned over the microphone.

“Can you send an image of the object?” he asked.

“Sure,” Ratchet said.

Blaster raised his hand.

“Image received.”

Ultra Magnus nodded and the feed of the shuttle was replaced with a still capture, a calamity of wires and light that took his visual center a full millisecond to parse.

“It’s the Enigma of Combination,” Cyclonus said.

“What’s that?” He could differentiate the orbital plating of the object itself and the red dwarf dew drop at its center, but the light it cast on its surroundings made his spark flicker with a disturbing fuzz.

“A plague,” Cyclonus said. “Considered a long-lost relic even in my own time. I would doubt this was the legitimate article, if Rodimus hadn’t so perfectly summarized its less infamous effects.”

“It can do more?” Magnus asked. What it had already done— whatever it had done, he still was not clear on the details—seemed itself too much for a bot to handle. Or two.

Cyclonus hesitated.

“Well, you see…”

“No. No, no, so much no, you’re kidding. Ratchet, tell me they’re kidding!”

“I don’t bloody well know!” he snapped back. He had sunk back into the pilot’s chair while Rodimus paced the bridge. His spark was spinning like a centrifuge, its engine overfed by the deluge of panicked thoughts tumbling through his mind. It was all Cyclonus and shuttle and Arcee and combination and Drift, new threads knocking each other out of the way so nothing could reach a conclusion, just endless half-thoughts pinged repeatedly. Worst was when Rodimus tripped over the junk now scattered across the bridge as it brought everything to a shuddering halt, like a whole expressway’s worth of engines seized up simultaneously.

He pressed his hands to his face and tried to focus on keeping his vents open, ignoring the storm of queries of Is Ratchet overheating? and Drift is going to kill me.

“I can’t be in a combiner with Ratchet!”

He hates me he hates me he hates me rattled around their processors like screws in a box.

“The Enigma has determined otherwise,” Cyclonus said.

So now the damn thing was having its own thoughts?

“It’s thinking ?” Rodimus asked, earning an additional glare from Ratchet.

“No one knows,” Cyclonus said. “It’s ancient technology, built on the same principles that govern sparks.” Principles that even modern science knew so little about. Ratchet was going to say it but froze when he felt Rodimus grab for it, tossing at it a hundred questions he had no answers to: Is that thing a person and Where do sparks come from and Would this stop if we broke it followed by another run of apologies.

“The Enigma has you in a holding pattern,” Cyclonus went on. “There aren’t enough of you to form the combiner, so it’s keeping your sparks connected until it can interface with at least one more Cybertronian.”

Ratchet saw the image that formed in Rodimus’ mind and his glower deepened.

“I don’t have the knowledge or the skills to disconnect something like that,” he said. “Sparks are complicated, Rodimus, and there’s still so much we don’t know about them. I didn’t even think it was possible to maintain a connection of this magnitude without direct contact.” Rodimus’ next idea was even worse. “Have you met your crew? The moment you put it in a box and tell no one to look, Brainstorm, Skids, and Whirl are all going to make breaking into it their personal quest.”

“Isolating the Enigma will not contain its effects,” Cyclonus added. “Because the holding pattern is an open channel, you have become conduits for the Enigma’s energies. If even one of you encounters another compatible component, it will complete the process, regardless of its distance from you.”

Rodimus stilled, then sunk to the floor, his thoughts miserably coalescing into a single thread.

“So, either we drag someone else into this mess, or we’re stuck in this shuttle, trying to think over each other forever?” Forever was steeped in darker emotions that caught Ratchet off-guard, which Rodimus immediately covered up with nonsense branches of observations about the junk on the floor. A negativity storm, Drift would have called it.

From behind, he heard Rodimus chuckle, though his thoughts betrayed little amusement.

“If I may,” Cyclonus said, interrupting no one. “Ratchet, I do respect you as a physician, but modern medicine is not the only source of knowledge concerning the Cybertronian body. Even modern theology, shallow thought it may be, offers insights to the nature of sparks that your specialty lacks.”

“No.” Ratchet scowled and shook his head, though more so at the way he felt Rodimus stirring that observation than the idea itself. “None of the woo-woo nonsense. Drift’s mindfulness agility course was bad enough.”

Unfortunately, his words made Rodimus’s thoughts expand in blooms, accompanied by shuffling as he stood to lean over the pilot’s chair.

“Drift was always trying to get me into his meditation thing,” he said. “He—he talked about the Rossum connection, how the mind impacts the spark and vice-versa. It was mostly, you know, power poses and cool sword moves, but there was more advanced stuff we didn’t get around to.”

“It could be a lead,” Cyclonus said, his grave voice somehow failing to make a dent in Rodimus’ growing enthusiasm. “I know very little about Spectralism, but if it involves manipulation of spark energies, there is a chance it could be used to counteract the effects of the Enigma.”

“Yeah, remember how Drift can see auras?” Rodimus said. “Maybe he can see where we’re tangled and just undo the knot.”

“There is no scientific backing to that kind of pandering—”

But we don’t have any other ideas.

Rodimus drew him up short, his own dearth of creativity reflected back to him as though in a mirror. Loathe though he was to admit it, Rodimus was right: they had nothing else. No leads, no one to fall back on. Cybertron’s history, the ancient mythologies that might have shed light on this technology, was lost to war and time, and all that was left was the third, fourth-hand accounts of people who claimed to know what was lost.

There was a chance Drift would have nothing to offer them, but even the possibility of guidance was an improvement over the helplessness Ratchet felt when he tried to imagine them fixing this on their own.

He received an image burst: Drift, wild and beautifully unhinged, leaping for the chance to care for Ratchet with literally open arms. Rodimus shut it down, distracting himself by counting rivets in the bridge ceiling, but vibrating embarrassment persisted between them.

“Would it be appropriate to call Drift for this?” Ultra Magnus asked, pulling the further from their internal squirming. “The truth about his role in the Overlord plan came out months ago, and since we’ve made no effort to contact him. To approach him now so he can solve this seems exploitative.”

Ratchet caught only the yellow of Rodimus’ hand before the captain vaulted over the back of the pilots’ chair, landing with a solid bang.

“I’ll take the blame,” he said.

“For what?” Ratchet asked, though he could already see it.

“For not fixing this sooner,” Rodimus said. He shrugged, a movement so automatic Ratchet did not pick up who it had been directed to. “I’m the captain. It was my responsibility and I failed. That shouldn’t doom Ratchet to having to live with my mistakes.”

He avoided Ratchet’s optics as he spoke, but Ratchet still caught his expression, the shiver of his spoiler as he spoke. It struck him that the reason Rodimus was so hard to read from an external perspective was because a single look meant so many things: frustration, guilt, grief, and hope piling on top of each other too quickly to discern where any one emotion rooted. His thoughts were going in so many directions all the time, of course it would be a challenge for everyone else to keep up.

“How do you intend to locate Drift?” Ultra Magnus asked, ever pragmatic.

“I have a tracker,” Ratchet said.

“I memorized the specifications for his shuttle,” Rodimus added, his processor spitting out the codes in full.

“And will that ship be adequate? Do you need additional supplies?”

Ratchet turned in the seat, looking around the scattered contents of the bridge, to say nothing of what their collision might have done to the storage down below. Despite the mess, he saw what looked like intact crates of potable energon, and the shuttle’s own systems were not in imminent danger of running dry.

“We’re stocked,” he said, and catching Rodimus’ primary concern, went on, “Unless Cyclonus know how far the Enigma’s effect extends, it’s going to be too risky to dock back in the Lost Light. We’ll make due with what’s here.”

“I’ll have Rewind compile you a list of known energon distributors with minority Cybertronian populations. That will be your best opportunity to refuel without risking exposure, should the need arise.”

Could the Enigma grab non-Cybertronian mechanicals? Rodimus wondered, a query Ratchet did not have the energy to entertain.

“Thanks, Mags,” Rodimus said out loud. “Take care of the place while we’re gone; you know the drill.”

“Of course, Rodimus. Uh, stay safe?”

Rodimus laughed, a sound that Ratchet felt as a golden thread, spun in a ripple through space before vanishing to nothing. He squinted, trying to make sense of what the hell that had been, but Rodimus’ burst of enthusiasm and plans for the coming journey overwhelmed him.

“Don’t worry, Ratchet’s pride will make sure I get back in one piece.”

You—!

It was going to be a long journey to the outer rim. Though Rodimus was grinning cheekily, the tense coil at the center of his thoughts agreed.

#maccadam #transformers #rodimus #ratchet #my writing #longfic #fault lines

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zenonaa · 4 years

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Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya Characters: Togami Byakuya, Fukawa Touko, Hagakure Yasuhiro, Naegi Komaru, Asahina Aoi, Naegi Makoto, Kirigiri Kyouko Additional Tags: togafukaweek2020 Series: Part 6 of TogaFuka Week 2020

Summary: Byakuya and Touko tell their son about the events leading up to their engagement... with help from their friends.

Comments: Day 6: Family and Wedding! It’s a two-part fic, so the second part will be posted tomorrow.

***

For as long as Aloysius Togami had been alive, his parents had been married. His father had always been Byakuya Togami, and his mother had always been Touko Togami. He knew she used to be Touko Fukawa, but she more than happily disowned her family name upon marriage and adopted her husband’s.

On multiple occasions, Aloysius paged through their wedding albums. Saw their smiles, saw their friends, saw the western theme. What he didn’t know much about was what led up to the wedding, and that was something he was especially interested to know about, now that he found himself at a similar phase in life.

“Mother. Father,” said Aloysius, holding his hands behind his back. “There’s something I need to talk to you guys about.”

His parents stared up at him, sitting on their living room couch.

“Y-You’re not dying, are you?” said Touko as a hand flew up to her mouth.

“I... no,” said Aloysius, flinching his head back.

Byakuya inclined his head and said sternly, “Are you doing drugs?”

The bravado that Aloysius brought with him crumbled as their wide eyes digested him.

“No, I’m not,” said Aloysius, growing more flustered.

Touko slung her arms over her husband’s shoulders and borderline wailed, “Did you sign up for a game show where you’re locked into an old school building and forced into a killing game?”

Her bottom lip wobbled as distress rocked her body. Aloysius pouted.

“That’s not it at all,” huffed Aloysius.

Rather than let them keep guessing, Aloysius dipped his hand into his jacket’s inner pocket and pulled out a burgundy velvet box small enough to fit in his palm. Byakuya and Touko leaned in, with the latter squeezing her husband’s shoulder, as Aloysius opened the box. It parted its jaws with a gentle click, and on its cushioned tongue perched a platinum, three stone engagement ring.

“It’s... an engagement ring!” Touko gasped, eyebrows jumping, and she slapped a hand against her cheek. Byakuya studied it closer.

“Round cut, one diamond flanked by two sapphires,” murmured Byakuya. He adjusted his glasses. “Impressive.”

“Yep,” replied Aloysius with a bob of his head, pleased with their reactions, then he glanced away, slightly bashful. “I picked it up from the store this morning.”

Touko and Byakuya fixed their eyes onto him at the same time.

“When are you going to propose?” asked Byakuya.

“How are you going to propose?” Touko chimed in. Aloysius rubbed his wrist sheepishly.

“That’s kind of why I wanted to talk to you about it first,” he explained. “I plan on proposing to Ichika today but when I propose, I want it to be special. How did you propose to Mother, Father?”

Byakuya cupped his chin. Meanwhile, Touko clasped her hands together, beaming.

“I r-remember it so clearly!” she gushed. “We were in a restaurant, and...”

“Hold on,” interrupted Byakuya, flinging up a hand for silence. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. Before I proposed to you, I purchased the ring. I know you have already done that, Aloysius, but I want to tell you my story from the start...”

He folded his arms over his chest.

“I remember it well...”

***

On a warm morning in July where the temperature had yet to reach its peak, I arrived at a jewelry store with Naegi and Hagakure. The storefront was sleek black, with golden cursive written across the top that said the shop’s name. When we approached close enough, the double doors parted, granting us entrance. I headed the group, brimming confidence as I strode inside, and I heard the doors whoosh shut behind us.

Circular lights covered the grey ceiling hanging above a dark, polished flooring. Various photographs adorned the desaturated yellow walls, portraying smiling people I didn’t know. Though my gaze lingered longer on the photographs with closeups of rings, even those didn’t capture my attention for long. Of more interest were the glass cabinets either side of me, filled with mannequin shoulders and hands that boasted different jewelry.

Hagakure let out a low whistle and rested his hands onto his hips, looking around. “This place is mighty fancy.”

“Yeah,” agreed Naegi, his eyes flitting about nervously. I nudged up my glasses and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. A low cluck escaped me.

“You two will be fine, so long as you don’t touch anything,” I assured them. They both shot wary looks at each other.

We didn’t have to dawdle long before a man in a white-blue checkered shirt received us. I can’t remember much about his appearance. Your grandmother had a photographic memory, you know. Anyway...

“Good morning, gentlemen, how can I help you today?” asked the salesman. I stepped forward.

“I’m the one you have business with,” I told him, and when his attention narrowed onto me, I added, “I need an engagement ring.”

The salesman nodded. If he had a hat, he would have tipped it. He gave off that impression. “Can do. Do you have anything particular in mind?”

“Diamond, with an interesting pattern,” I told him. “However, while I don’t want it to be plain, I don’t want it to be over the top or gimmicky... It needs to be original but elegant.”

I could tell that the salesman hadn’t been listening by the glazed look in his eyes, but he nodded anyway.

“I’m sure I can help you with that,” said the salesman. He led us to one of the glass display cabinets and swept his hand across the top. “This brand has a lot of standout designs. Do any of these tickle your fancy?”

We peered in. A lot of engagement rings that I had seen prior to this were similar - silver band with a diamond, whether it be a princess cut, oval cut, cushion cut or another, and indeed, some rings shown to me then didn’t stand out from many others I had seen not just in passing, but during my research online.

To give credit, alongside these standard engagement rings were others that had a hint of originality to them: one had a blue topaz gemstone, another had a band that wasn’t plain smooth or encrusted with smaller gemstones, but more ornate, and a ring near it had a band resembling interlaced vines.

After some deliberation, I soon set my eyes on the ring I wanted to give to Touko. It -

***

“I wouldn’t use the word ‘soon’ here,” came a slightly muffled voice.

Byakuya, Touko and Aloysius turned sharply to where the voice originated from. Yasuhiro Hagakure stood in the doorway of their living room, straddling a toothbrush between his teeth. His dreads, despite being restrained to a ponytail, were still voluminous, framing his head like rays from the Sun. He popped the toothbrush out of his mouth and padded over.

“Hi, Uncle Hiro.” Aloysius lowered his shoulders now he knew who it was. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Neither did we,” said Byakuya, squinting.

“Family doesn’t need a reason or invitation to visit family, ‘right?” said Yasuhiro, and he quickly continued talking before anyone could answer him, wagging his toothbrush. “Anyway, Togami-chi, I overheard you telling little Aloysius-chi here about the time we went to buy an engagement ring of Touko-chi, and I couldn’t help noticing that some details might have been a bit fuzzy in your memory.”

Aloysius wasn’t little. He was in his twenties. But he said nothing, too curious.

Apparently, so was his father.

“Oh?” went Byakuya, cocking his head.

Yasuhiro hit himself on the chest with the hand holding the toothbrush. “Yep! But don’t worry, I remember the scene as clear as a bell! It went like this...”

***

So, Togami-chi called me and Naegi-chi the night before, asking us to come help him pick out an engagement ring. Being the good friend that I am, after I asked how much he was willing to pay for our services and he said nothing, I conceded and said I’d do it for free because we are such good friends, ‘right? The next day, we met at my place, and Togami-chi was anxiously going, “We need to go now! We need to go now!”

***

“I said that once,” Byakuya grouched. “And I wasn’t anxious. Just annoyed. You were taking too long to put your shoes on.”

“Whatever you say,” Yasuhiro said dismissively. He perched onto the armrest of the couch. “So...”

***

I drove us there in my car - I’ve still got old reliable, by the way - and the place really was as swanky as Togami-chi made it out to be. The sign above the doors was so elegant. You know, I could make a living as a person who writes shop names on signs, my penmanship is that neat, and I even said that. Naegi-chi wondered if there was even a job just for that and Togami-chi just gave us this blank look. I totally rendered him speechless', ‘right?

We walked in, and the entire place was amazing. Aloysius-chi, I can’t overstate how fancy the place was. I felt like a celebrity at a fancy dinner party. I remember whistling and saying how fancy the place was. Everything sparkled. Jewellery twinkled from within their glass cases, and light reflected off polished services. Totally ethereal.

Naegi-chi agreed with me. We couldn’t touch anything without risking millions in damages. Togami-chi was full of concern seeing us fidget, and he said, “You two will be fine, so long as you don’t touch anything.”

As we waited to for someone to come over, his demeanour changed. Nerves got the better of him. He gritted his teeth, looking around for a salesperson. Not long after, this guy came over to greet us and let me tell you, he was... wow!

***

Yasuhiro thumped himself on the chest, his lips stretched out as he beamed widely.

***

So this guy. His hair was, I would say, mahogany brown and slightly wavy, hanging just past his shoulders, and his moustache and goatee were well-trimmed. Not a hair out of place. He gave us the warmest of smiles I’ve ever seen and waved to us with a friendly gleam in his eyes. A guy like that should have been working as a model or something.

Togami-chi wanted to see some jewelry, and the guy - Katsumi Suzuki, by the way - took us to one cabinet. Katsumi-chi listened with utmost patience as Togami-chi described the ring he sought.

“Diamond, with an interesting pattern,” rambled Togami-chi, one hand on his hip and one hand pointing a finger at the ceiling. “However, while I don’t want it to be plain, I don’t want it to be over the top or gimmicky. It needs to be original but elegant.”

Katsumi-chi nodded attentively and showed us some. Togami-chi then tucked his hands behind his back and bent forward, practically pressing his face against the glass as he ogled the rings in there.

***

“I didn't do it like that,” snapped Byakuya. Yasuhiro shrugged and carried on.

***

There was at least condensation splattered onto the glass. Anyway... Togami-chi had Katsumi-chi take out, one by one, basically the complete collection. Each time, Togami-chi adjusted his glasses and went cross-eyed as he examined the latest ring. And every time, he would click his tongue and pick out another one for Katsumi-chi to show him so he could do the same thing again.

We went through the entire collection before Togami-chi twitched his head back and sneered, “Is that all you have?”

When Togami-chi’s nervous, as you know, he gets cranky. He drummed his fingers against his arms and groped his glasses the whole time.

Katsumi-chi was all professional, full of smiles, and he clapped his hands together. In a breezy voice, he said, “I have another collection for you! Please, follow me.”

No joke, we went around the entire store until Togami-chi finally decided on a ring.

***

Byakuya scowled. “I was not nervous. Now, be quiet. I’ll tell the rest.”

***

I was impatient. I didn’t leave this to the last minute, so I had no reason to be nervous. That man kept showing me rings that didn’t fit the image in my head, and I didn’t have all day. I had other things planned. Some of those rings I knew I could get online for far cheaper if I wanted... though, of course, I didn’t want those. He dared show me some alloy zircon rings that I could obtain elsewhere with the same amount of money one might find down the back of their sofa!

When he realised he risked losing a customer, he squeezed his hands together and begged, “I have another collection for you! Please, follow me!”

My refusal to be ripped off or go away with something neither me nor Touko would be satisfied with paid off. In the end, I spotted three rings that I most approved of.

One was a silver band that didn’t connect the whole way. A round cut diamond punctuated one end and affixed on the other end was a diamond shaped into a flat flower.

For the second ring, the golden band looped twice, and on it was a round cut pink diamond gripped in golden claws, and around the claws, silver rose heads were embedded into the band.

Finally, the third ring, gold-banded, was studded with clear diamonds, and it contained a purple diamond surrounded by small golden leaves.

After a lot of thought, I went with the ring with the pink diamond. I even managed to buy it for a cheaper price than usual. Naegi and Hagakure had their faces buried in their hands, in awe of my debating skills the entire time.

***

“It was more like cringing than awe,” said Yasuhiro, wrinkling his nose. His face smoothed when he turned to Aloysius. “So anyway, Aloysius-chi, that’s how Togami-chi bought his engagement ring.”

Touko sighed happily, slumping against her husband’s side. Aloysius rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh... thanks,” he said with a lopsided smile. “That was an enjoyable story, but I’m more interested in how the actual proposal went down. That’s the part I’m at now.”

Byakuya lifted his chin, puffing out his chest.

“Hagakure, make us some coffee,” instructed Byakuya, pointing at Yasuhiro, who rose and shuffled into the kitchen. Then Byakuya folded his arms over his chest. “Aloysius, part of the reason we explained that part of our engagement story was to illustrate to you how much thought went into every single stage.”

Touko nodded fervently, squeezing her knees. “T-That’s right... but I think it’s my turn to tell the rest of the story.”

She sat back, raised her hands and laced her fingers together.

“I remember it so clearly...!” said Touko. Her gaze unfocused, and a toothy smile spread across her face. “Unbeknownst to me, Byakuya spent a long time planning the perfect time to propose to me...”

***

I bit on my thumbnail as I peered into my opened wardrobe, a purchase from a thrift shop. It didn’t contain enough clothes to fill the entire thing. Half of the contents consisted of work clothes, plain blouses and long skirts of the muted colours with dark purple being the most colourful of the lot. The other half offered more variety, like a canary yellow dress with a low neckline, allowing for me to wear a frilly white blouse underneath.

Still. Nothing flashy. I held my breath as I lifted the hanger off the rail and pulled out the yellow dress. It swayed a bit before stilling.

“That’s way too casual!” groaned Komaru, standing off to my side. Even after so long, I can remember her fists balled beneath her chin, her chibi head too big for her body.

Her sudden vocalisation sent a shock wave ripping through my body that made me twitch. I clenched the hanger tighter with both hands and pressed it against myself.

“I was just checking it,” I replied, and once my heartbeat returned to normal, I put the hanger back on the rail. With my hands free, I curled my fingers into my palms and knocked my knuckles together. “For my date with Byakuya-sama, I have to consider all possibilities.”

For example, though I knew we were going to a restaurant, what if we decided to do something else afterwards? It would be dinnertime, leaving the rest of the night available for us to fill. We could go on a walk, or spend the night together at his apartment. Then I would have to wear something comfortable... and something easy to take off. Heheh... Ah! As I was saying, it could rain, or become cold, or too hot. There were so many factors to account for.

Komaru crossed her arms.

“It’s not like you don’t know how it will play out. You’ve been on loads of dates with Togami-san already,” Komaru pointed out. I whined.

“Yes! B-But that doesn’t mean I can slack!”

Honestly, I could have tugged on my hair with frustration. Komaru grabbed a hanger off the rail and waved it around.

“Fine. What about this one?” she asked.

I snatched it from her, and as I twisted my body from her, I protected it from her with myself as a shield.

“This one is way too flashy! I’d stick out like a sore thumb,” I hissed.

The hanger in my hands held a sleeveless dress gifted to me by not just Komaru, but her brother too for my last birthday. It was knee-length and pale pink with red petals printed around the skirt, more condensed toward the bottom, like the petals were falling from above and joining the pile below. A black, translucent lace shawl attached to the dress hung from the shoulders to where the skirt of the dress began, matching the colour of the collar.

“It’s perfect!” Komaru announced. She propped her hands onto her hips. “You should tots wear it.”

Admittedly, I was hesitant, because the dress wasn’t exactly like what one would expect at a formal do. The pattern on it stood out, was very striking, but at the same time, it wasn’t casual. That was why I had yet to wear it - I didn’t know what sort of situation it was most appropriate for. Not around the house, but if I went somewhere fancy, people might think it was tacky. I stood there, biting my lip as I studied it.

“Come on, Touko-chan,” Komaru pleaded, clasping her hands together and shaking them.

She persisted, and in the end, I relented, putting it on. When I was done, Komaru uncovered her eyes and beamed.

“You look amazing!” Komaru cheered, throwing up her arms. My eyes narrowed. I grumbled, averting my gaze and trying not to smile.

Byakuya met me at the front gates of the school grounds. As soon as I saw him, I ran over. The weather indulged us that day. A clear blue sky stretched overhead, and the warm temperature didn’t oppress or cling too tightly. My heels clacked against the pavement, sounding like the crackling of fireworks. He scooped me into his arms, and I could have stayed against his chest forever. Tempting though that was, I receded, slightly winded. If I remained there, I wouldn’t be able to stare up and admire him, let alone go on our date.

“This dress isn’t tacky, is it?” I asked once I came out of his embrace. I pinched at the skirt.

“No,” he replied, studying it. “It has an interesting pattern.”

I let go of my dress and grinned wider.

As expected, Byakuya opted for a suit, dark green, consisting of a jacket with a waistcoat underneath and a shirt that was ever so slightly tinged pink. He was absolutely dashing, as always, and he took my hand as we slipped into the taxi.

On the ride there, I gently leaned against him, watching the urban scenery flit by through the window. We disembarked in the car park by the restaurant and walked inside together, gave our names and let a waiter lead us to our table. A candle flickered between us, encased in a clear orb. Our surroundings were all cheerful browns, some accented with other colours, like the green leaves of a plant or white tablecloth. Shortly after we were seated, we ordered drinks - red wine, I recall...

***

“It was a blend of grenache and syrah,” Byakuya interjected.

A grin exploded across her face. She grasped her hands tightly together.

***

Yes! That exactly. I remember how Byakuya raised his glass and announced a toast, and I couldn’t quell my smile as he clinked my glass against his. First, the pork gyoza arrived... They were divine. A crispy bottom and tender top encased juicy innards, shaped like crescent moons that could fit easily in one’s palm. Truly an amalgamation of textures. I p-picked up one with my chopsticks and offered it to Byakuya.

To my delight, he opened his mouth. I could see his teeth, and his cute pink tongue... I popped it into his mouth. Then he picked up a gyoza and offered it to me! My face heated up as I opened my mouth with an aah, and he slid his pork between my puckered lips...

***

The tables in the restaurant retreated in puffs of smoke, and when they cleared, the sleek brown furnishing had disappeared, revealing the living room’s white walls and a painting of Byakuya, Touko and a four year old who used to be Aloysius many years ago. In the painting, the streaks of silver that Byakuya’s hair had now weren’t visible, but other than a few less wrinkles, Aloysius’s parents hadn’t changed much. Those shadowy figures at the restaurant tables vanished, and the only people left were gathered around a couch that popped out of the carpet. No longer did they chatter - their voices became the rumble of distance traffic.

A low laugh rumbled from Touko. Her gaze clouded over.

When Touko didn’t continue speaking after a few seconds, Aloysius coughed, and Touko gave a start. Byakuya pursed his lips. Both were used to how Touko’s mind sometimes wandered. The smile on her face dripped off as she recollected herself. She wiggled, sitting up, and Aloysius waited for the rest of the story.

However, the next person to speak wasn’t her. Not either of them.

“Are you telling the story of when you got engaged?” piped up Komaru from behind the couch.

Touko squawked and bent over sharply. Aloysius’s shoulders twitched. Even Byakuya had jolted slightly and needed to adjust his glasses. That was definitely Komaru, olive eyes, brown hair and all. Komaru tilted her head to one side, eyebrows raised in confusion as both her hands rested on the top of the back of the couch.

“D-Don’t sneak up on me!” Touko said, hand over her heart and glaring over her shoulder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you saw me come in,” said Komaru, wincing a little. She gave a small wave with one hand and directed a nod across the room. “I waved as I came in, and Hagakure-san waved back, so I thought you knew...”

Everyone looked at Yasuhiro, who stood near the doorway to the kitchen, carrying a tray of drinks. He tensed, then gave a small laugh and cupped the back of his head, keeping hold of the tray in his other hand.

“I didn’t want to interrupt the story!” he explained, showing a lot of teeth in his grin.

“How long have you been here for?” Byakuya asked, and when Aloysius turned to him, he saw that Byakuya had fixed his stare on Komaru.

“Enough to know what point we’re at,” Komaru said. She folded her arms over the top of the couch and leaned her weight into it. When Yasuhiro set down the tray of refreshments in front of them, she faced Aloysius and chirped, “Hey, let me tell you the next part. Otherwise we won’t ever get to the juicy parts. Touko-chan always gets caught up on the little details.”

A crease formed on Touko’s brow, darkening her features, and Touko opened her mouth to object, but before she could, Komaru started speaking anyway.

***

Okay, first off, I did not have a chibi body. Let’s make that clear. Just because I was the cute little sister type, doesn’t mean -

***

“I didn’t mean it literally, you pea brain,” grumbled Touko. Komaru put on a sulky pout, but Aloysius could tell that she wasn’t offended. Byakuya held in a sigh.

When one of Aloysius’s other aunts, Aoi, said those three could put on a comedy act together, she hadn’t been kidding. Yasuhiro smirked at them.

Aloysius raised his hands, facing his palms toward Komaru. “Um... can we get back to the story, please?”

Komaru wiped off her pouty look.

“All right,” she said, still slumped against the couch. She straightened.

***

We spent ages getting Touko-chan ready for her date. Like... hours. Now, though Touko-chan invited me over to help her get ready, I knew something she didn’t. The night before, Togami-san called to tell me about his plan to propose to Touko-chan at their next date.

***

“You then spent the next ten minutes quizzing me about it,” Byakuya remarked with an annoyed frown. Aloysius snorted.

Komaru, who had tapped her nose when she revealed her secret, lowered her hand. She peeled her body off the couch completely and parked her hands onto her hips.

“And what’s wrong with that?” she asked.

***

This way, I knew exactly what to do. I came over to her place after lunch and helped her prepare for what would be, unbeknownst to her, a life-changing experience. Touko-chan stewed over what to wear for almost forever, dithering nonstop at her wardrobe, and when she seemed like she planned to choose this plain yellow dress you might wear on a trip to the seaside, I couldn’t just stand there idly and nod, nod, nod to appease her. See, I knew how big a deal this would be to both of them. I needed to act, and fast.

“That’s way too casual!” I blurted, making Touko-chan jump.

“I was just checking it,” she replied defensively, but she returned the hanger to the rail. She fidgeted her hands, grimacing, and added, “For my date with Byakuya-sama, I have to consider all possibilities.”

Of course, I knew that. In fact, I knew more than her. This date was extra special. I couldn’t let her know that though. While I couldn’t let her be too casual, I couldn’t let her go extreme the other way.

“It’s not like you don’t know how it’s going to play out. You’ve been on loads of dates with Togami-san already,” I said, hoping that would keep her expectations high but not like, crazy high.

“Yes! B-But that doesn’t mean I can slack!” she replied shrilly.

Poor Touko-chan could get herself worked up over an anthill. To be honest, she still can. Don’t give me that look, Touko-chan! You know it’s true.

It was a good thing Togami-kun recruited me to make sure everything went according to his plan. Who knows what would have happened if I hadn’t been there? Touko-chan might even have turned up at the restaurant three days late. Remembering the dress I bought her for her birthday - with help from Makoto’s paycheck, I pulled it out of Touko’s wardrobe and showed it to her.

“What about this one?” I suggested.

Touko-chan already described it so I won’t bore everyone with the details, but it was a really pretty dress, let me emphasise that. The lace at the top was attached to a black collar and collars make almost every outfit seem just a bit smarter at the least, you know? I thought it would add a bit of oomph to her wardrobe. It’s so dreary otherwise... like she got all her outfits at a museum.

She screeched like a cat having its tail trodden on and tore the dress from my hands, shielding it with her body. “This one is way too flashy! I’d stick out like a sore thumb.”

I stuck out my chest. “It’s perfect. You should tots wear it.”

We bickered a bit but with my charm, I triumphed. Touko-chan sulked as I did her hair, tying it into a bun on top of her head. She has so much hair. The whole time, she kept checking her phone for messages or to keep track of the time. Anyway, as soon as she spotted Togami-san at the gates, she perked up and ran over to him. When she reached him, she stumbled over in her high heels, but Togami-san managed to catch her.

***

“You didn’t need to mention that part,” muttered Touko, hunching her shoulders. Komaru waggled her tongue at her.

***

What? It was cute! Thankfully, they avoided a night in a hospital room. I remember wishing I could be in a situation like that with someone. Not the hospital room thing! The thing that actually happened! It was just like from an anime.

They talked then held each other’s hands for a moment before getting into the taxi together, but of course, that’s not the end of the story. Togami-san had told me the name of the restaurant, and I couldn’t not be at my best friend’s engagement, so I roped in three of our friends to make sure it worked out perfectly. So me, Kyouko-chan, Aoi-chan and Kanon-chan got on our bicycles and -

***

“You what?” said Byakuya and Touko at the same time, and then, also in synchronization, they jerked their heads back. Komaru clasped her hands together and oozed a guilty smile.

Then, by herself, Touko said, seething, “I w-wondered how you all showed up so quickly when - ”

“Don’t spoil the story!” Komaru said loudly, flapping her hands.

Touko sank back into the couch moodily, letting Komaru continue. Byakuya draped his arm around Touko and rubbed her shoulder.

***

As I was saying, we got on our bicycles and made chase whilst ensuring neither of them realised we were keeping close tabs on them. Sometimes, we scattered, or took shortcuts through alleyways.

Togami-san told me he planned to propose after dessert, so we didn’t have to follow them into the building right away. In fact, it would have been better to wait until after they settled down, lowering their guards, so until then, the four of us popped into a local ice cream parlor and all had some ice cream in the meantime.

Then, after we finished, we thought we would check out a few stores before sneaking our way into the restaurant. Meals always take forever to come in those sorts of places, so I reckoned we had an hour minimum to spare. Kanon-chan wanted to see if the sports store stocked her baseball bat line - dedicated to her cousin, may Kuwata-san rest in peace - so we went there, and they had some, so we...

***

Touko held her head in her hands and fussed, “You were complaining about how I would never get to the ‘juicy’ parts, and now you’re going off on a tangent about your shopping trip. No one wants to hear about that.”

She shook her head, eyes downcast, baring her teeth.

“My Aloysius wants to hear about the suspense! The drama!” Touko insisted. “Not... Not what ice creams you got, or what you bought in a sports shop!”

Aloysius fixed his eyes on Komaru.

“Drama?” he repeated curiously. Komaru raised her fists with a moody expression.

“Fine! You want an exciting story, I’ll give you one,” she said.

***

So while Togami-san and Touko-chan were being really interesting eating heavily described food or whatever, full of metaphors and similes and junk, the rest of us were walking out of the arcade, Kyouko-chan holding a giant plush penguin in her arms that Aoi won for her, when we heard a huge BANG!

***

Komaru mimed explosions with her hands. Aloysius stared.

***

Out of nowhere. Bang! I nearly jumped out of my skin. The four of us all exchanged eyebrows-up looks, mouths hanging ajar, and then around us, people started yelling and running... At first, we didn’t understand what they were responding to, but then we noticed they were all yelling and running away from the area that contained the restaurant.

Within seconds, smoke started to bleed into the sky, as black as coal.

Okay, I know, I know. Black as coal? Hey, Touko-chan’s the writer here, not me. The smoke was thick and contaminated more and more of the sky as seconds sprinted past.

“What the hell was that?” asked Kanon-chan, shielding her eyes with her hand.

“It sounded like an explosion,” Aoi-chan said, hovering a hand nervously by her mouth.

As always, Kyouko-chan was ready.

“Come on,” she said in that quiet but firm voice of hers, gesturing with the arm not carrying her penguin toy, and the four of us hurried down the street, heading toward the source of the smoke.

Dodging past screaming civilians who either stumbled, cowered or both, my mind swam with possibilities of what could have caused such a scene. Had someone tried setting off a firework in the early evening? Into the velvety violet sky? Did a car veer and crash into a building, blowing out a cloud of dust not unlike something from an episode of Thomas the Tank Engine?

That was an old British children’s television show, Aloysius.

A little voice in the back of my head kept asking, ‘What if something happened at the restaurant?’ The screams and spluttering of footsteps helped drown it out, but my chest tightened like a fist clenched around it. No matter how much I screamed in my head, I couldn’t block that worry out completely.

When the restaurant slid into frame, it confirmed our suspicions. I froze, staring at the partially demolished restaurant. A scream got trapped in my throat. My eyes watered at the acidic stench of destruction.

#togafuka #touko fukawa #byakuya togami #danganronpa #dr3 #makoto naegi #kyouko kirigiri #yasuhiro hagakure #komaru naegi #aoi asahina #fanfiction #togafukaweek #round robin

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rayo1-productions · 3 years

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Cartoon Network Universe: Earth One - A Tour of California

*REPOSTED FROM FANFICTION.NET

DEVELOPER'S JOURNAL - SUPPLEMENTARY

Unfortunately, no this isn't Chapter 7. But it is something worth reading.

So if you've been following this story for a while, you've probably noticed that there are a few anachronisms in the world of the Cartoon Network Universe. I do have an explanation in mind, but for now, let's just keep it at me having to make certain calls when it comes to merging the worlds of so many Cartoon Network shows, as the majority of them were produced independently from one another.

But I also realized it wasn't entirely fair to you guys, who might not be able to keep track of worldbuilding and expository content.

So, I've come to a decision that I am probably going to regret in the future, specifically in terms of the style and genre. I am going to have, between each 6 chapters, a little cutaway bumper that informs you on the map of this world. This will give me the chance to clarify all things that you might be confused by when it comes to my writing (Honestly I don't blame you. My English isn't the best...which is ironic since it's my first language.)

The reason why I was so apprehensive of this idea at first was because of the tone it might cast over the rest of the story. Informational bumpers like this are a staple of certain anime like Attack on Titan and My Hero Academia, but with this story's subject matter leaning closer to AOT, I feared that these bumpers would create a "history-book" vibe to it. Y'know, like these alternate history stories people write where they go in-depth into the layout and politics of the war.

What's problematic about that approach for me is that it can be a very adult motif, one that can strip the story of any fantastical elements by grounding everything into hard square reality. Furthermore, most fellow FusionFall stories implement a personal touch into their work. Granted, by focusing on the entire cast of NPCs and the larger CNU, I haven't made this job easy for myself. But come future chapters and the personal touch will be essential, just as it was essential with Volume 1.

But I guess that's a bunch of superstition. Right now, enjoy reading the layout of the setting of my story. Be ready for even more creative liberties than seen in the OG Game, because the Map I created here is vastly different compared to that of the original or remakes. This map also comes with nice little exposition blurbs, all of which are set One Month before the Time Travel Experiment and thus two months before the invasion begins. I will be listing heroes that claim these areas or districts within each city. As the story moves forward from this bumper, heroes covered by a [SPOILER] tag will be revealed as they claim positions throughout the war and beyond. For future stories outside of FusionFall, it's also very possible that you'll be seeing this bumper more than once and with updates.

MAP OF TURFS

The Sister Cities - California

SIYENN: The largest of the three Sister Cities situated in the Western state of California, Siyenn City is a melting pot of countless businesses, families, and liveliness, all enhanced by the ever-growing pursuit of innovation. With a multitude of heroes, technological corporations, child geniuses, and casual life, this city is not only fortified, but ensured of a brighter tomorrow!

TECH SQUARE - Dexter McPherson, Simon Astronomonov; Once Siyenn Square, it was rechristened as Tech Square in honor of the astounding technological achievements transpiring there. Home to partnering and competing companies, Dexlabs and Mandark Industries, Tech Square has become the center of innovation and impossibility, inspiring countless geniuses by any standard to look sharp for a fine day for science!

-- Dexter McPherson, founder, CEO, and Chief Scientific Developer of Dexlabs, has announced a private time travel experiment to the public! Seeking to send volunteers or a volunteer approximately one hour into the future! The seclusive but famous scientist reportedly received supplies from various suppliers, such as Goat's Junkyard, Maxwell's Plumbing Services (oddly enough), an unnamed investor rumored to be in Quahog, Rhode Island, as well as MIT and the CERN research project! For any brave and daring volunteers, answer the call, for the time is now! And the test subject can be YOU!

GALAXY GARDENS - N/A; This emporium of greenhouse greatness was marked as a sign of good faith and will towards the ecological salvation of the planet. Galaxy Gardens is a thriving plant and animal sanctuary for all to enjoy, and though some might denote it as a simple zoo, Dexlabs has announced its intentions to study plant-based solutions to climate change and other potential problems facing the planet.

STEAM ALLEY - [SPOILER]; Though the most economically staggered of the city, this district, nicknamed "Steam Alley", held an astounding position as home to leaders of the automotive and energy industries, such as that of the Rainbow Factory and WERK Co. Though with the rise of tech giants like Dexlabs and M-Industries, it's not in that great shape anymore. But before its time, Steam Alley saw rise to oil trade tycoons such as Boss Franklin Fullbright, and even renowned bio-engineers like the late Rafael and Violeta Salazar.

-- Homeland Security agency Providence have been spotted in the area, more than likely in the hopes of opening a city-based installation. Though many people are feeling safer already, some have objected for opposite reasons, as well as the plans not offering any economic resurgence to Steam Alley.

MOREBUCKS TOWERS - [SPOILER]; As part of a housing initiative with the Morebucks Corporation, namely on the behest of Jennifer Morebucks, the city looks to open more housing options for those in the middle class or lower. Using the latest advancements in technology from Mandark Industries, the construction of these houses will be sped up to a considerable rate. The future looks bright for what used to be a normal everyday district.

-- Ms. Morebucks, a former supervillain, made a clear and distinct threat to her markets and shareholders that if they did not invest in the project, she would have them evicted from their houses and would use them for menial purposes. The shareholders were almost immediately confused by the nature of this act, wondering how a threat such as that could be fueled by a genuinely noble and thoughtful initiative. They all chalked it up to an ulterior motive on her part. Nevertheless, they all decided to fund her project.

CITY STATION - [SPOILER]; The heart of Siyenn City is also the best way to get around town; the City Station district is the public transportation staple of the entire city, and even more as its Slider Buses can carry you all the way to Townsville and Bellwood. Its transportation-focused industry has made it the centerpiece for a cultural metropolis, with bright lights lining the skyscrapers, joints and hangouts for people of all ages to enjoy. City Station's refurbished place in Siyenn City was a part of Dexlabs and Mandark Industries' massive technological initiative, building the massive Station Tower to serve not only as a hub for all passengers, but to also provide extra connection services to the entire district. City Station continues to thrive thanks to Dexlabs and Mandark's continued efforts.

-- City Station High School would like to publicly recognize one of its own students, Vana Thunderwarp, for her bravery and heroic saving of Dr. Gale Spacebyte, a government scientist who would have been killed by a malfunctioning slider. But that's not all. The young anthro-wolf student immediately contacted Dexlabs and helped identify the issue that caused the malfunction. We at City Station High School value dedicated study and civic duty within our students, and open our arms to those like Ms. Thunderwarp willing to make a difference in this vast world. (even if our moron Principal is the literal opposite - Noah V., friend of Vana)

GENIUS GROVE - [SPOILER]; The innovation does not stop at the city, as the suburbs of Genius Grove are home to some of the most impossible things the world has yet to see. The birthplace and home of both Dexter McPherson and Simon Astronomonov, they both grew up with like-minded intentions concerning technology, actively working together to see their dreams come to fruition. It is here in Genius Grove where great minds not only think alike, but aspire to be greater.

-- Shady businessman Benedict Uno and his delightful wards recently attempted to close a deal with Alderman Jeff McPherson, father of Dexlabs CEO Dexter McPherson, to open their delightful developments project. McPherson declined, much to the chagrin of Uno. There's been no official word on his next steps, though some say he may attempt to try again in Bellwood's Peach Creek Estates.

ENDSVILLE - Billy, Mandy, The Grim Reaper; Endsville may seem like the most haunted place on Earth, probably because it is. But behind a gloomy and shocking exterior is a community that thrives on liveliness and prosperity. No matter how many people try to escape our beloved town, Endsville is your last stop...to not die, but to...just come here, please. Please?

ORDINAL HEIGHTS - [N/A]; A calmer neighborhood for a calmer time, Ordinal Heights is a place to keep away from the various calamities of the universe and relax. Once you rent a house, you'll never want to leave. So come visit our little town!

-- Due to unexplained bursts of gravitational fluxes and massive surges of radiation emerging from a [REDACTED], Dexlabs and Providence have advised that this neighborhood be quarantined and cordoned off until further notice. For your own safety, DO NOT VISIT.

CRYSTAL COVE - [Formerly] Mystery Inc.; Before Endsville was dubbed the most haunted place on the West Coast, Crystal Cove held that title, famous for being the final place of activity from Mystery Incorporated, and infamous for giving the Ohio-born detective group genuine supernatural threats to investigate before they all vanished and (presumably) disbanded.

MASSACHUSETTS PARK - Mordecai & Rigby; Founded by Curtis Montgomery and his lollilander pupil Stick Maellard in the late 1800s, Massachusetts Park has stood the test of time in blazing through history and struggle. In the center of the park lies the Maellard Residence, providing the area with a feeling of home and safety. Despite reports of the zany, unpredictable, the surreal, and worst of all, various reports of employee misconduct, the Park and its staff stand ready to preserve this historic foundation.

-- Last week was the 2-year anniversary for the death of Pops Maellard, the son of Mr. Stick Maellard and the then-groundskeeper of Massachusetts Park. In what could only be described as launching an entire acre of land into space, the Park was reported to have been caught in a battle between the forces of good and evil in the cosmos, to which Pops sacrificed himself. There has been no comment from the Government-sponsored Galactic Guardian Group (G3), or the Department of Metahuman Affairs and Abnormalities, who specialize in investigation of the cosmically supernatural. All the latter group had to say was that classified intergalactic contacts were looking into the aftermath. The Special Extraterrestrial Containment Team arrived shortly after to debrief all members trapped aboard the Park in launch. In this anniversary, many of the Park's staff were there to pay respects to their dear friend.

- Goat's Junkyard, West Coast Division - Megas (Coop); Originally founded in New Jersey, proprietor and former tattoo artist Scot 'Goat' Rienecker expanded his junkyard operations to the other side of the United States. In Jersey, his junkyard gained a notable reputation for housing a vast array of salvaged technology, with many complaining simply because the city would be destroyed by robots and aliens before they could visit. Goat's Junkyard is the place to go if you're looking for off-hand items and re-engineered technology, no matter how illegal it might be!

TOWNSVILLE: - Powerpuff Girls; The City of Townsville! A safe haven for all, a flourishing and lively populace, a loyal and brave community, and home to the world's youngest and greatest trio of superheroines! This fine city has been under their protection for 10 prosperous years, and the skies have never been brighter since. This fine city is a place to go to see hope before your very eyes. Ignore the high insurance rates and outrageous crime waves, because the Powerpuff Girls will always be there to save you in the City of Townsville!

-- People are still worried for the middle Powerpuff, Buttercup Utonium, who suffered a major blow during a battle with the evil Mojo Jojo. The Powerpuff was smacked far off into the Pacific Ocean and disappeared into the waters. The green Powerpuff returned to her family a week after her disappearance, but has refused to offer any knowledge or word on what happened to her during her absence. We wish our toughest fighter the best in health and spirit as she continues to keep the city safe!

- Townsville Square - Jenny Morebucks; A bustling shopping industry incarnate, this plaza is at the heart of the city and maintains its great variety of malls, studios, and more, with the trademark location of the Sunken Super-Mall, this is a center for consumerism, and we invite YOU to find everything you'll need and want.

-- With the retirement of her father, Oliver Morebucks, young heiress Jennifer Grace Morebucks has since taken over his place as head chairwoman and CFO. Having been in this position for about 4 years now, Morebucks has brought the company into several disputes over acts of corporate greed, villainy, and subversion of ethical...anything, things that were mostly avoided by her lack of ownership in the company when she started her career in villainy. Morebucks has yet to recuperate from the low financial position and brand image the "Princess" has put them in, though Jennifer herself has ceased most villainous activity in recent times.

- Townsville City Hall - The Mayor of Townsville; The headquarters of Townsville's government is a dedication to triumph and might in the face of hardship. Here lies the Mayor's office, and the Mayor himself as he guides Townsville through times of despair, thanks in part to our terrific triplets that the Mayor dispatches to handle situations. It's because of this landmark that this fine city has stood tall and never backed down, even when a giant monster knocks it down.

-- Just today, the Mayor announced the undoing of his latest decree: that all pickle jars be made with paper lids. Buyers of pickles found their food to have been spoilt due to the poor standards of containment imposed by the Mayor.

TOWNSVILLE PARK; This local and public park is the perfect spot for peace and quiet, especially when the city life can be so overwhelming. Townsville hosts many of its local events and celebrations here, as even this peace would not dare be disturbed by villainy.

- Mojo's Volcano - Mojo Jojo; Before even the crime wave, Townsville has always seemed in danger, thanks to the massively slim volcano located near the Park. Nowadays the inactive volcano is under new management: The primate supervillain Mojo Jojo, who lives in his Observatory Lair planning and scheming his maniacal and destructive ideas for destroying the Powerpuff Girls and other villainous acts. However, the city of Townsville is lucky to see Mojo exercise an honor code when it comes to engaging our beloved metropolis, and how fortunate we are that it not occur to him.

-- Following an incident that occurred in 2009, many citizens of Townsville have speculated Mojo's connection to the sudden appearance of green gooey aliens that manifested from glowing plant-like eggs. Speculation also arose from the East Coast, with many citizens of New Jersey identifying the spores to be Gynok, a plant-based lifeform from Saturn that once invaded on a Thanksgiving Parade. However, multiple reports indicated that Gynok was capable of speech, and could mimic objects living and non-living, abilities that were not displayed by these spores, which instead spawned blobby creatures that terrorized various cities instead. Many are wondering what this has to do with Mojo, but have not been able to get a word in due to the primate's limited parole.

MARQUEE ROW - Gangreen Gang; This small but vibrant district holds a special place in the hearts of Townsville's greatest musicians. Currently the focus of the Gangreen Gang's album tour, Marquee Row's impressive auditorium famously held the debut performance of Sunny Bridges, the Atlanta-born jazz-rap musician that currently teaches at Atlanta's Westley School for the Arts; he has since gone down as a legend in contemporary music. It also was notable for holding one of the highest ticket-sales rates for concerts of the West Coast in 2005, thanks to a spectacular performance from J-Pop/Rock duo Puffy AmiYumi. Marquee Row is full of legacy and variety as it has quickly become the hot-spot for Townsville's musicians and many more.

-- The Gangreen Gang are set to perform in the Sunny Bridges Auditorium this July, where they are also set to reveal a new member of their band. Speculation has arisen as to who this member might be, and some rumors report that it's a female backup player. Some have denounced this as pandering, while others have embraced the band's sense of diversity. Others less trusting of the band wonder if this is a ploy to pull off a heist, given their criminal record.

- Harada-Bridges Records; The Harada-Bridges Record Company is a Townsville-based label founded through a joint partnership between former musician/performer Sunny Bridges and Kazuo Harada, former band manager and possible kleptomaniac. Harada-Bridges Records distributes music from many such talents as the TrendBenders, Pizza Party, the Gangreen Gang, Hair to the Throne, Scream-O, and Puffy AmiYumi among others; it even allows for one-time titles, such as "Love makes the World Go Round", or a rather catchy cover of "Surfin' Bird". It also sells redistributions and collections of older albums, including the famous 70s group Shag Carpeting, Fist Pump from the 80s, and smaller names like Mr. Universe. Their building is furnished with a high-end recording studio, in which much of the music they distribute is recorded. Due to Bridges' teaching obligations, the company is partly run by JoJo Melodytour, former manager for the TrendBenders.

-- Famous rappers 'the CrewCrew' were recently excommunicated by the record company for their foul attitude and slanderous speech, and their apparent disrespect towards the memoriam services for Pops Maellard. They have since gone to social media to voice their frustration, only to lose several followers on all relative channels, Instagram in particular.

WILSON WAY;

- Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends; Venture into our quiet and socially vibrant suburban areas to get away from the action, and find a place where the community is tight, trustworthy, and lasts forever. For example? This grand estate that has been a staple of the community since the 1930s. Originally the grand mansion of eccentric heiress Martha Foster, her home has seen a repurposing like no other over the last 60 years. Founded in 1954, the mansion was reimagined as Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, a place for runaway or outgrown imaginary friends to spend their time and look for new human friends. We in the Wilson Suburbs are proud to see such progressive community work continue for so long, and to maintain a lasting legacy across the country. Regardless of the nanite-related problems that have plagued the imaginary community, Foster's Home keeps its doors open to all real and unreal for refuge and safety.

POKEY OAKS SUBURBS (North & South) - Powerpuff Girls, Professor Utonium; Named after the county Townsville is located in, the Pokey Oaks suburbs are home to many of the denizens of the larger metropolis, appreciating the quieter life contrasting the busy city ahead. In the Northern suburbs, you will find Poakey Oaks' High School, the Morebucks Mansion, the precinct for Townsville PD, and the abandoned home of former supervillain Fuzzy Lumpkins. In the Southern suburbs, you will find the Utonium residence, home to the Powerpuff Girls, Poakey Oaks Kindergarten and Lower School, and the Pokey Oaks highway leading into the larger Townsville city.

-- Not to be confused with the Pokey Oaks county in Los Angeles, California.

HABITAT HOMES - N/A; A thriving suburban community defined for its rising anthro population, Habitat Homes is recognized as a place for...well, whatever it is normal districts do, because this area seems to be set on selling "we have anthropomorphic animals" as their only highlight, which is pretty exploitative. This suburb is home to the Charles Darwin Middle School, notable for having an overwhelmingly anthro-based student body.

BELLWOOD: - Ben 10; This is no ordinary city. Enter a world beaming with possibilities, wrapped up in one of the most popular cities on Earth. Located within Delmarva County and founded in 1638, the city of Bellwood started out as a small town notable as "the most ordinary town on Earth". That has been proven wrong many times over. Since Ben 10 started his super-heroic career at the ripe age of 10, Bellwood has seen a massive amount of attention for sightings of alien life and activity on Earth, and allowed this small town to grow and expand into a bustling city in the same leagues as sister cities Townsville and Siyenn.

- Bellwood Square; The heart of the city and the home to many of Bellwood's landmarks, such as Bellwood Zoo, City Park, a museum, a mall, Madison Elementary, even a Brain Bank!

- City Point; Whoever could forget this small district, host of the annual Summer fair for 20 years in a row, several of which have showcased the Dizzy World Circus hailing from Townsville. City Point also houses the largest amount of alien activity in the entire city, with many wondering how so many aliens appear in and out. But no matter that, City Point is hailed as a place for diversity and acceptance of all lifeforms, no matter how secret.

-- The Dizzy World Circus is set to open business in City Point this summer after a performance in Gateway City, Virginia; this will be the first time they have returned to Bellwood in ten years. However, brand image is being considered as a risk, due to the supervillain Zombozo welding his Ferris Wheel to the ground five years ago and making it near impossible to remove. Architects and engineers are still trying to determine how to bring the Wheel down, as the structure itself appears to be made of Promethium, one of the strongest and most durable metals on Earth.

OFFWORLD PLAZA - Grandpa Max; Seeing humanity's future in the stars, Offworld Plaza was setup in a partnership between Dexlabs, NASA, and Providence whilst being overseen by the Department of Metahuman Affairs and Abnormalities. Offworld Plaza is meant to be the world's first spaceport, with a Dexlabs-modified STS shuttle meant to be the world's first form of public space travel. The project has seen backing from several Bellwood residents, including Ben 10 himself and partners included, and several alien citizens amongst the population. This is being seen as the foremost attempt to fully engage Earth with the larger galactic community.

BELLWOOD SUBURBS/URBAN NEIGHBORHOODS;

- Madison Valley - Ben 10; This mostly quiet neighborhood is close to the Peach Creek community, and is notable for being the birthplace of Ben 10 himself. The neighborhood has received a lot of attention since his public debut last year.

-- Residents of this neighborhood continue to search for Gwen Tennyson, cousin of Ben 10 and former partner in crimefighting. Gwen had reportedly manifested something akin to alien powers, due to alien heritage in the family, and disappeared soon after a conflict involving the Ship-It Corporation and an invasive race of microchips. The search has been continuing for 4 months, and we send the Tennyson family our best wishes.

- Gallagher Commons/Sector V - KND; Home to Benedict Uno, this proud neighborhood prides itself of the progress brought about by its educational system, confident in the molding and shaping of young minds for the larger world. To that, Gallagher Commons also takes pride in its large park statue dedicated to the various superheroes of the world (though due to the lack of heroes in these suburbs, it has yet to be adorned with any holograms or statues). This monument, christened as "Hero's Square", has been the sight of attraction to many, though children seem displeased with the amount of attention it receives, but who cares about them, right?

- Bellwood Sheriff's Department received more reports of angry parents complaining about their kids' whereabouts after school; reports include children whispering secret codes and messages, sneaking out at night, raiding closets of random neighbors of varying ages, and mention of weapons storage in a treehouse. These reports have been dismissed as a case of kids being kids, and parents being parents. Though the mention of a treehouse caught their eye, as there are no reported treehouses in the entire Gallagher neighborhood.

- Peach Creek Estates - The Eds, Rolf, the Urban Rangers; Peach Creek Estates has been a foundation of the Bellwood suburbs for as long as it could remember, founded shortly after the city was built, Peach Creek retains its reputation as the most normal suburb in the entire country, even as the larger city stepped into the larger and more unexpected world. The center of our neighborhood lies in the Peach Creek Commons, a Cul-De-Sac with a loving community that never expect anything out of the ordinary.

-- The Bellwood educational board was happy and elated to give a $100,000 research grant to 16-year old Eddward Zimintator, affectionately known as "Double-D" by his neighbors and friends, for outstanding scientific papers on the applications of nanites towards the reduction of cancer cells, and the correlation between nuclear energy and dark matter. Dexlabs and Mandark Industries, tech companies from Siyenn City, helped pay for the grant, and Mr. Zimintator was excited to have received the honor as opposed to the money. Double-D expressed worry that the large sum of money would be taken advantage of by his friends.

- Bravo Beach City - (formerly) Steven Universe, the Crystal Gems; Bravo Beach City, rechristened after philanthropist and entrepreneur Bunny Bravo, has a history spanning 2 whole centuries, beginning in 1814 with Captain William Dewey founding the city. The city has been under the protection of an alien team dubbed the Crystal Gems, who protected this sub-city of Bellwood for over 200 years since they arrived on Earth. This town has seen alien invasions of lovecraftian/angelic varieties and universe-ending catastrophes unlike any other, and yet it pulled through without the presence of Ben 10. That's worth a look-(#KeepBeachCityWeird - Ronaldo F.)

- Grover Mill - The Amalgam Kids; [REDACTED]

ASTORIA GROUNDS - The Saturdays; Located on the edge of the Pacific Coast, Astoria Grounds was once home to reputable cryptozoologist Doctor Solomon Saturday and his family. After their mansion here was destroyed, the Saturdays maintained operations here by means of their blimp. Astoria has since seen a level of peace unheard of. We have great TV too, renowned for various movie production studios located right here, such as Sumo Slammers: Legends, Weird World (formerly), Tiny'Mon: The Live Adventure, and other great content!

BELLWOOD MOUNTAINS - Camp Kidney, Acorn Flats; Bordering the state of Oregon, the Bellwood Mountains offer citizens a fantastic night-sky view, and a lovely day for campers. The site was recently chosen as the new location for several Midwest-based Summer Camps, such as Camp Kidney and the Acorn Flats Scouts. Originally located in Northern Wisconsin, the Camps were relocated to the West after dangerous reports of robots and monsters were coming in from the nearby state of Illinois, as well as various surreal reports from the nearby city of Elmore. Amongst the Bellwood mountains are the Pimpleback Mountains, Mount Blackhead, and a forest noted for various amounts of exposure to unstable nanites; said site is also reported to be a major hotspot for cryptid activity. Be wary of entering this Twisted Forest.

SHARED LOCATIONS:

- CITY SQUARE (Currently under construction); As part of the Movement Ink Initiative, the Three Sister Cities of California are coming together under a united cause: to open new avenues of business and provide a safe and healthy environment for all. Meant to be the most technologically advanced area between all three cities. The Movement Ink Initiative will also see construction of a center studio to foster all creative and health-related activities.

OTHER LOCATIONS OF INTEREST: (INFORMATION TO BE UPDATED BY DHAWAR AIRLINES)

NOWHERE, LAS VEGAS - Agents Black and White; [REDACTED]

- Area [REDACTED]

PORKBELLY CITY, ALBERTA - Johnny Test; Alberta's least notable city, built upon the morally dubious legs of the meat-grinding industry, has seen a surprising rise in the extraordinary over the last five years, with various mutations and technologically influenced threats appearing over time. More often than not, a kid from our suburbs has to save the day, but it also happens to be his fault. For Porkbelly, things just seem to balance out.

-- Congratulations to local scientists Susan and Mary Test for getting jobs in the states with Dexlabs! We'll miss you while you're away very much! Just don't blow anyone up and don't cause a massive chemical accident!

SOUTHEAST UTAH - Rex, Providence; [REDACTED]

ORCHID BAY, SAN FRANCISCO - [SPOILER]; Arguably the second largest district of the city, this beach-side town is big enough to call itself a city on its own. Renowned for its beach city theme and harbor history, Orchid Bay has been a cultural diaspora, giving children a welcome touch of life from all areas and ethnicities. Admittedly, there have been supernatural occurrences here and there, but it's not like an ice castle is going to rise out of the water.

MARZIPAN CITY, VLATAVA- N/A; This small European city in the Romanian Province of Vlatava is well-known for being home to Mung Daal's Catering Company, one of the world's tastiest European cuisine menus. With their food and this city, you can never go wrong with your vacation.

-- Mung Daal has reportedly taken up a search for a potential apprentice. More details are to follow.

LANGLEY FALLS - CIA, Department of Metahuman Affairs and Abnormalities; [REDACTED]

If you've noticed any inaccuracies or liberties taken with these settings, then I apologize for the liberties taken to make all of this work. When I started my story, my aim was to tell the most grounded FusionFall story I possibly could, which meant that to realistically illustrate the various shows of CN in the same setting and together, I had to change various tiny details (such as the location of Camp Kidney) or massive details (such as moving Steven Universe from the East Coast to the West Coast). Really sorry about that. I wasn't intent on simply transposing the map from FusionFall, which would have simply been mashing all the locations together. Each show has its own unique setting, some of which are integral to the shows' aesthetic. I wanted to honor that as much as possible, and every major change made hurt to make, especially since it fits into the grander plan.

Now obviously, scenic descriptions aren't going to be much help, but since I can't really draw out a map of the CNU’s California here, I'd like to direct you to my associated Deviantart page: https://www.deviantart.com/noahvilgaxsane. I might be able to draw out the map and post it there.

If you've already clicked, you might notice that I've created a non-spoiler wallpaper for this wonderful project! Not just for FusionFall, but for the series I have planned as a whole.

Thank you all for letting me give you the layout of the Cartoon Network World so far, and I'll see you guys in Chapter 7, written on Fanfiction.net. Make sure to leave a review and follow the story if you’re interested!

#cartoon network universe #earth one #fusionfall #fanfiction #fanfiction advertisement #commercial break #new map #new world #remember to review #dexters laboratory #ben 10 #powerpuff girls #samurai jack #lots more #worldbuilding

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bltngames · 4 years

Text

Review: Lloyd the Monkey 2

Back before TSSZ News imploded, I would often do write-ups for many of the games at the Sonic Amateur Games Expo (SAGE). SAGE is an annual online expo that I started all the way back in September of 2000. I personally ran SAGE for over a year, and remained deeply hands on for at least another two years as it continued to grow. The main focus of SAGE was primarily to showcase fangames, in particular Sonic fangames, but the event never limited itself to any one type of game. It's never been uncommon to see original games appear in the lineup -- especially now, given the modern indie scene.

One such original game was Lloyd the Monkey, a bit of a strange game, written in Javascript of all things and run through a webpage. That by itself was notable enough to stand out from most of the games at SAGE, but Lloyd was also a completely original product created by someone who possibly seemed to be young and new to game development. Making games is no easy feat, especially when they’re written in Javascript and you’re doing tons of original artwork yourself. Taken as that whole, the game impressed me, even if it was more than a little rough around the edges.

Now we have Lloyd the Monkey 2, written in Unity. The developer, Noah Meyer, sent me a Steam key in order to review the game. Up top, I just want to say how I think it’s kind of brave to go all the way in putting the game on Steam and everything. It felt like just a few years ago, newer indie developers sort of had to work up to releasing their game on Steam, usually getting a few releases under their belt first. People view games differently when they’re asked to pay for them, and critics may not be so willing to let circumstances influence their review. It can be a harsh world out there for a beginner.

Lloyd 2 is a much bigger, more ambitious game than the first. Whereas the original Lloyd didn’t even have sound effects, Lloyd 2 introduces voiced cutscenes, some of which are full-on animated cinematics. Quality is about what you would expect -- I would assume the developer sought out friends and acquaintances to voice characters in Lloyd 2, leading to wildly varying audio quality due to differences in recording hardware. Lloyd himself sounds fine, but some of the other characters are a bit quiet, while others have clear background noise. Nothing I heard was unlistenable, however.

The story is also a little hard to follow. Not much is done to refresh our memories as to who anyone is or what’s going on, we’re just kind of thrown into the middle of things and turned loose. On one hand, it’s nice that the story doesn’t slow the pace of the gameplay down too much. On the other, you’re given a map screen with different objectives to clear but there’s very little context as to what you’re doing or why. At one point I made my way to the end of a Power Plant level only to confront what appeared to be an evil monkey. Despite a whole cutscene involving a conversation between four or five different people, this evil monkey never seemed to say a single word. He just stood there in total silence with a sinister smile. Then I killed him.

I suppose maybe I missed something, however. With greater ambitions comes a number of unfortunate bugs in Lloyd 2, one of which happened not long after our monkey and his crew landed on planet Grecia. I entered what appeared to be a castle to talk to the Queen, but I think the game expected me to take a lower route, where I was apparently meant to overhear the Queen making secret preparations before my arrival. Instead, I took the direct route straight to her chambers, and triggered the cutscene with Lloyd standing in front of her while ominous music played, even though the camera was still clearly focused on the next floor down. I apparently still had some amount of control, because midway through her dialog I touched a teleporter that sent me to the game’s map screen before she was done talking. If that cutscene was meant to give context to what I was doing, I didn’t get a chance to see it.

That was one of the more harmless bugs in my time spent playing Lloyd 2. Harder to ignore was the fact that, within the first 30 seconds of getting control, I soft locked the game. Lloyd 2 opens with a short prologue section where you play as a man with black hair. If you decide to ignore the obvious and go left instead of right, you quickly run out of solid level tiles and begin falling indefinitely. Later areas feature invisible walls presumably to prevent this exact scenario, but for whatever reason they weren’t implemented in the prologue.

For the most part, Lloyd 2 seems to be a co-op game. Many levels see Lloyd teamed up with an alien princess named Lura, with gameplay vaguely reminiscent of Mega Man X crossed with the tag mechanic from Sonic Mania’s Encore Mode. At the touch of a button, you can switch between the Swordsman Lloyd and the more projectile-based Lura… assuming your partner is still alive, I guess. While playing alone, your partner is controlled by artificial intelligence, but it’s incredibly basic and prone to accidentally committing suicide. That wouldn’t be such a big deal (considering Tails in Sonic 2 never acted in self-preservation either), but once your partner dies, they stay dead. Your only option to bring them back is to either restart the stage or hope another cutscene triggers, since they’ll magically spring back to life in order to say their dialog (though, again, usually only seconds before they fall back into the next death pit).

This might not be much of a problem, depending on your viewpoint. There’s not much incentive to switch between Lloyd and Lura, so once you pick whoever you think works the best, chances are, you’ll just stick with them. You do unlock special team-up attacks after beating each boss, but this just reinforces the idea that Lloyd the Monkey 2 is meant to be experienced with another person holding a second controller, as most of the team-up attacks require both characters to do something specific that the single player artificial intelligence usually can’t interpret. Regardless, the team-up attacks never seem strictly necessary to progress, so they can be safely ignored if you’re playing solo.

I understand this is a pretty negative review I’ve written here. Lloyd the Monkey 2 aims high and tries to the best of its ability to get there. I assume it was a struggle to get even this far. Making games is hard work, and like any skill, takes practice to get good at. Just because this is Lloyd the Monkey 2 doesn’t mean Noah Meyer, its developer, is automatically an expert. I'm sure he's doing his best, and, quality aside, this game has a lot of heart put into it. This isn’t something cheap, quick, or lazy. It’s really, genuinely trying, and that matters.

I’ve said a few times here and there that I see pieces of myself in the releases of Lloyd the Monkey, and I still see them here. I remember, for an early SAGE event, I was working on a fangame project of mine called The Fated Hour. I was probably already a year or two or maybe even three deep in the game by now, and after a lot of hyping up the community, this was their first chance to play the game. I spent months and months coding this iteration of my engine, and by my standards back then, it seemed like bleeding edge technology. I felt like I was going to blow everyone's minds.

It was a mess. Few were impressed. Even worse, the game straight up didn’t even run correctly for some people. What followed was multiple patches, and even rebuilding some entire areas from scratch. My ambitions got the better of me and I unintentionally cut corners -- not because I was trying to cheap out on doing proper development, but just because I simply didn’t know any better. I may have done the best I knew how to do, but I was running faster than my body could keep up with and I stumbled.

When I see things like the missing invisible walls in the prologue, or how easily partner characters commit suicide by accident, I think back to that demo for The Fated Hour, and how I've been in this exact place myself. There’s even a side quest in Lloyd 2 where you have to track a floating girl as she drifts through a level -- there was a nearly identical set piece in The Fated Hour, where you were chasing a robot. It’s a very strange feeling to see something like that and think, “I’ve been here before.” Like looking through a window at a younger version of yourself.

It’s true that I stumbled, but I didn’t let that stop me. I learned by doing. I kept going. Three years later, a game of mine was featured on TV, leading to more than a million downloads. The mistakes of past projects did not weigh me down and I soldiered onwards, newfound knowledge in hand.

So where does that leave us with Lloyd the Monkey 2, then. Well, it's not exactly a game to compete with Super Mario Odyssey, but given the circumstances in which it was created, I don't think that's necessarily the point. As a learning experience clearly made for the fun of its own creation, I think it's a success. And who knows what awaits in the years to come?

#writing #review #lloyd the monkey 2 #steam #noah meyer

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pointlesstrashyexistence · 4 years

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Any idea why my reblog wouldn't go through? Since I obliterated every single point you made, you ought to read it. The reply I posted tagged you instead.

No idea. As far as I know I haven’t blocked you and I don’t know what post you are talking about since I haven’t been tagged in anything.

Never mind. I realized that you were in fact were a racist and I blocked you’re other account so you got bitter and tried to argue using information that is innacurate. And if anybody would like to know the other account of this person, it is thoughtsandreplies.

So I’m going to go over each statement the person made with the exception of what originally began this, Immersion (Piss Jesus). Art is a very personal experience, but how you interpret art does not give you the right to use it as an excuse for racism.

So 1) No one is actually saying that Lincoln was a racist. They’re arguing whether or not the depiction of the Black man in the Emancipation Memorial, a real former slave named Archer Alexander is racist and if it should be taken down because of that. This specific instance is not about the white man involved, but the black man being represented and if his representation as someone physically and what could be taken as symbolically lower than a white man is degrading. This is a complex issues that even two of his descendants are have opposing opinions on. Muhammad Ali was a direct descendant of this man and his third cousin, Keith Winstaed, and his oldest daughter, actress Maryum Ali, have opposing opinions. Winstaed is in favor of keeping it because he is more focused on the historical context, that the sculpture of Alexander was meant to be seen as empowering because has broken his chains and beginning to rise. However, Ali is viewing with the eyes of someone living in the 21st century who expects better representation for minority communities that have historically been vilified in art, literature, television, and politics. She believes the statue is degrading and offensive because even if Alexander’s chains are broken, he is still below Lincoln, a white man, and is in a position that can be interpreted as him bowing to him. As I said before, art is personal and both people have valid interpretations of this piece. This is not the same as tearing down statues of actual racists. We put up statues of people to honor them, but we must be able to recognize that we can no longer honor people who were legitimately horrible. I don’t see any statues of Hitler in Germany so what’s your excuse for why you want to keep up sculptures of racists?

2) off the bat I could tell you were a racist who hasn’t bothered to examine their words and actions by referring to the Black Lives Matter Movement as a “historically illiterate mob”. Most of the people in the movement are black so I can assume you are perpetuating the stereotype that black people can’t read which is enforced by the fact that it was illegal for slaves to be literate and black and brown communities have historically and continue to receive less funding for their schools, which leads to lower quality books and teachers, which leads to students who have difficulty in their studies, which leads to students who have lower grades, which leads to black and brown communities being forced to accept work at lower paying jobs, which leads to black and brown parents that are not able to spend time with their children in order to make enough money for food, water, electricity, and housing, which leads to kids who don’t receive the attention they need, which leads to students who are being taught by these same lower standard teacher with old outdated books, which leads to students being frustrated over not being at the level of their studies that they should be but are unable to seek outside help because of a lack of tutors and familial help, which leads to students who “act out” because they were not able to develop the emotional tools necessary to monitor behavior and are then forced into prisons by teachers who have called the police on them, which leads to another lack of education because the U.S. prison system does not want to rehabilitate prisoners and help them become better people, it just wants to find a way to legally continue slavery.

3) It does not matter if someone had doubts about whether or not someone had doubts over their racial superiority. What matters is that they still willingly continued to be a part of that system that benefitted them because it was more convenient to not do anything. Also, nice job on conveniently leaving out the fact that Jefferson was known to have raped his slaves and produced multiple children with slaves, but still did not bothering freeing any of his slaves.

4) Don’t bother bringing up almost any of the other founding fathers also since they were also slave owners perpetuating the system because it helped them make money. And don’t try to excuse it by claiming that it was just accepted at the time. Abolitionism was a thing during that time. Even when Columbus began raping and pilaging, there were people who knew what he was doing was bad. There is writing about how people already knew Columbus was fucking insane and even Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand of Spain, you know, the ones who started the Spanish Inquisition, was so disgusted by rumors about Columbus that they had him investigated and took away his titles when they found out about what was happening. They’re not off the hook though because they were still, you know, the reason for why many Saphardic Jews were imprisoned, killed, and forced to run away.

5) No, I don’t use the word “racist” too lightly, you’re standards for what count as racist just don’t include enough things that are racist.

6) Black people live in fear because they have historically and systemically have had legitimate reasons to, not because I’m calling out things that have been blatantly racist.

7) Yes there has been property damage. Yes there are people who are going to use these events as an excuse to do whatever they want. That will always be a part of protesting. But don’t act like cops aren’t doing this same thing, intentionally planting themselves in protests and then creating violence or causing property damage in order to give other cops a reason to attack protestors. If you know enough, you can spot them based on whose wearing shoes that can be run in or heavy combat boots, whose wearing nondescript clothes that you can see protective gear under, and who is wearing the “color of the day”, a tactic cops have used in order to disguise themselves among protestors but signal that they are cops to other cops by wearing matching accessories like armbands, headbands, or wristbands.

8) Funny how you don’t want to bring up the fact that these are populations with large black and brown communities that are usually overpoliced. Also, just because someone is a Democrat does not make them a liberal. The only reason I’m in preference of Democrats is because of the multiple marginalized communities that will hold them accountable for anything they do.

9) Not every single time a black person is killed is it because of racism. That “black-on-Black crime” people like to bring up? That’s not racism, that’s just the fact that people in close proximity to each other are more likely to kill each other and there are still heavily legally segregated parts of America due to wealth disparity. That example you brought up about a black cop killing a black man? That’s not racism. That a person knowing that they are untouchable because of the power that they have because the only good cops are cops that have quit. If you haven’t quit or been fired, you are likely a member of the blue wall of silence that refuses to condemn offices who intentionally act violently knowing that they will not be punished. Also, let’s not forget that people can also be prejudiced against people in their race or ethnicity because of the shade of their skin and the socio-economic class.

10) When have you seen any white man being bashed for having a black wife or being a “big brother” to black children? Often the only people who have problems with black women getting married to white men are black men who feel like they own black women and then claim they are “betraying their race” when they seek love from men in other races and ethnicities, but expect black women to stay silent as they chase after snow bunnies who fetishize mixed children. The only other case I could think of would be racists not wanting races to mix. And the “big brother” thing? The only reason I could think of would be complaints about wanting more black men to be “big brothers” because white men just cannot relate to the experiences of being a black child.

11) You conveniently left out that despite being one of the smallest racial communities in the U.S., black people are also the most policed, and will get arrested for things cops would let a white man go with like weed charges. Look no further than lovely white wonderbread comedien John Mulaney saying in his second comedy special “the comeback kid” “it’s (weed) always been legal silly goose”. This means that they have a disproportionate amount of black people in their records because if black people only make up 13% of people in the entire nation, they should only make up about 13% of all crime to, but they make up more because policemen have quotas to fill for how many people they arrest in order to receive more funding, and its easier with a racist system backing you up to arrest Black than white people.

12) Again, people in close proximity to each other are more likely to kill each other than people who do not know each other and people who live far from each other. Also, it’s the ultra extremists who really want to abolish the police. I still think we need a protective system, but we need it to work for the common people, not corporations and politicians. I think that every district should use the same system as wealthy white neighborhoods, where anyone who wants to be a policeman must be assigned a position in the neighborhood they are from because anything they do wrong will make them accountable to their neighbors, family, and friends. Also I believe that all cops should undergo mandatory psychological evaluations every 3-6 months, especially cops who have worked on extremely traumatic cases. I also believe that the U.S. should require at least 3 years of school for anyone wanting to become a cop because no one is actually able to learn the law, learn to enforce it through peaceful means unless in dire circumstances, and care for the wounded, mentally ill, physically disabled, or anyone mentally impaired by drugs and alcohol in 6 months.

13) Another example of how this person is racist because they are actually suggesting that we enforce racial discrimination and black poverty. Also, if you want to bring up gangs, the biggest gang in the U.S is police force using propaganda that promotes the idea of “belonging” and economic stability in order to entice people who do not feel like they belong wherever they are, and then giving them a gun and badge that basically means “kill whoever you want because we will cover it up for you”.

14) Unless a woman feels like she is able to provide a stable enough home environment for her and her child, NO ONE WILLINGLY CHOOSES TO BE A SINGLE MOTHER! Single motherhood is caused by multiple events. A woman was impregnated by someone who left her, a couple with a child divorced because of legitimate reasons because divorce is a long and financially exhausting process, a woman was raped and decided to keep the child, and woman was raped and forced to give birth because she lives in a state that limits women’s healthcare, which includes abortion.

15) Fatherless homes do not equate to a rise in criminal culture. If that were the case, all wlw couples and single mothers would raise criminals. Do you know what does equate to criminal culture though? Teaching people that they are superior to someone else because of their race, gender, ethnicity, religion, or sexuality and then promoting violent behaviors in that child.

16) Black families were never more intact during slavery than after slavery. Slaveowners and slavetraders intentionally worked together to make money and create a lack of unity among slaves by selling individual families members to different regions. One of the first things that former slaves did after they were freed was go out and find their stolen family members.

17) I can’t say anything about economics since I don’t have much knowledge about the economic system before the New Deal. However I will say that this is the only valid point you have made. Politicians have historically tried to get as many black votes as possible when they realized what a reliable voting community they were and then never actually done much to help the black community. However this is a very general statement.

18) How is group called Black Lives Matter that is focused on gaining racial equality attempting to sow discord in a nation by basically say “can you stop targeting us just because you’re racist and don’t like the color of my skin”.

19) How is a group asking for racial equality a lie? Are you really going to deny racism when we have seen shootings, lynchings, and people getting run over by cars all within the last month and a half?

20) WTF IS A LIE ABOUT A CHANT THAT MEANS “I HAVE NO WEAPONS, DO NOT KILL ME”

#black lives matter #blm #black women matter #black lives are human lives #black lives are important #black lives have value #black lives count #racism #race #oh look i found another racist for you Tumblr

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tabithalovesstuff · 4 years

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Witchcraft Asks #1-105

I hardly ever get asks so I'm going to do this all at once, I'll also repub the original after this too, tag you're it!

1. Are you solitary or in a coven? Solitary

2. Do you consider yourself Wiccan, Pagan, witch, or other? Witch, I kind of consider myself pagan too but not as much since I don't consider my practice a religion

3. What is your zodiac sign? Libra sun sign, Sagittarius moon, Virgo Rising

4. Do you have a Patron God/dess? Nope, I don't really believe in any of the Gods lol

5. Do you work with a Pantheon? Nope

6. Do you use tarot, palmistry, or  any other kind of divination? Tarot, and I want to get into pendulum too but I've been too broke to buy one

7. What are some of your favorite herbs to use in your practice? (if any) I don't practice with herbs 🤭 mostly cause they are hard for me to get lol

8. How would you define your craft? I generalize it by saying I'm a Eclectic Secular Witch that specializes in energy work and tarot

9. Do you curse? If not, do you accept others who do? I don't really do curses, how ever that is because I haven't had the need to do one, I think its fine to do them as long as you know what you are doing

10. How long have you been practicing? Technically I started in Middle school, but I've only truly started to get into it and truly practice for the last 2 years (but if you count when I started then 8 years)

11. Do you currently or have you ever had any familiars? I do not, i have pets they just aren't attracted to magic enough to be a familiar lol

12. Do you believe in Karma or Reincarnation? Yes to both

13. Do you have a magical name? No I don't, I feel like my real name is enough

14. Are you “out of the broom closet”? Technically, I don't try to hide it but I don't talk about it a lot so not a lot of people know I'm a witch.

15. What was the last spell you performed? I know some witches don't count these but I did an emoji spell for the coronavirus

16. Would you consider yourself knowledgeable? More or less, I feel like I'm decently knowledgeable but not enough to be a teacher or leader

17. Do you write your own spells? Yes I do

18. Do you have a book of shadows? If so, how is it written and/or set up? I do have one, its a very personal one that includes more than just magic almost like a journal. I write down information I want to be able to look back at as well as any spells and rituals I write myself and tarot readings for myself, and sometimes dreams.

19. Do you worship nature? I do

20. What is your favorite gemstone? Opal

21. Do you use feathers, claws, fur, pelt, skeletons/bones, or any other animal body part for magical work? No I don't, I wouldn't be against it though

22. Do you have an altar? Yes, kind of. Its really messy rn and doesn't really look like an altar

23. What is your preferred element? Either Earth or Air, I'm always stuck between those two

24. Do you consider yourself an Alchemist? Not at all lol I've never made any sort of potion

25. Are you any other type of magical practitioner besides a witch? Nope, though I do have an interest in cryptozoology but I don't know if that counts

26. What got you interested in witchcraft? Tbh I wanted to turn myself into a mermaid or a wolf (which is why I started in middle school lmao)

27. Have you ever performed a spell or ritual with the company of anyone who was not a witch? No I haven't, just cause I focus so much on energy work, sometime I find other people's energy distracting

28. Have you ever used ouija? Yep, nothing really happened though

29. Do you consider yourself a psychic? Not really, maybe to a certain extent.

30. Do you have a spirit guide? If so, what is it? I feel like a Deer is my spirit guide

31. What is something you wish someone had told you when you first started? I need to lower my expectations and I need to focus on feeling the magic over going through the motions

32. Do you celebrate the Sabbats? If so which one is your favorite? I try to! Doesn't always work out for me lol, I really like both Litha and Samhain

33. Would you ever teach witchcraft to your children? Yes I plan too

34. Do you meditate? Yes, but not as often as I should

35. What is your favorite season? Winter, I feel like all seasons have their perks though and living somewhere with one season would suck ass

36. What is your favorite type of magick to preform? Energy magic, as a witch that doesn't have good access to supplies (and space) it is the easiest for me (I have a post all about energy magic on my profile too)

37. How do you incorporate your spirituality into your daily life? Energy magic makes it really easy, like brushing my teeth or hair, taking a shower, even making food can all have a magical element to it

38. What is your favorite witchy movie? Honestly? Casper Meets Wendy lol, or the Halloweentown movies, or the Twitches movie

39. What is your favorite witchy book, both fiction and non-fiction. Why? I haven't really read very many witchy books ngl

40. What is the first spell you ever preformed? Successful or not. Again, this was back in middle school, I did a spell on the full moon to turn into a werewolf. Obviously not successful

41. What’s the craziest witchcraft-related thing that’s happened to you? I did a cleansing spell on my dorm room my freshman year of college once a week cause I had a toxic ass roommate and she requested a room change before the end of the semester because of a "bad smell" that no one else could smell but her.

42. What is your favourite type of candle to use? I don't use candles, because I'm not allowed to have them in my school dorms, I want to get into candles more though

43. What is your favorite witchy tool? My tarot cards lol

44. Do you or have you ever made your own witchy tools? Nope, I want to though

45. Have you ever worked with any magical creatures such as the fea or spirits? Not really, I dabble in it here and there though. I would love to work with the fae more though

46. Do you practice color magic? Yes, all the time

47. Do you or have you ever had a witchy teacher or mentor of any kind? Nope

48. What is your preferred way of shopping for witchcraft supplies? Online, I mostly use stuff I find around my house or on the ground outside though

49. Do you believe in predestination or fate? Not fully, I think every person is born with a long list of possible fates and the paths you choose in life determines where you end up

50. What do you do to reconnect when you are feeling out of touch with your practice? I try to do free tarot reading on here or meditate more, sometimes looking through my book of shadows helps too

51. Have you ever had any supernatural experiences? Yeah I've had a few

52. What is your biggest witchy pet peeve? When people try to say there is a certain way you have to practice and some forms of witchcraft "aren't real witchcraft" just cause they don't practice in that way

53. Do you like incense? If so what’s your favorite scent? I do, I don't really have a favorite, I like trying a bunch of different kinds at once

54. Do you keep a dream journal of any kind? I kind of write my dreams down in my book of shadows, I don't keep up with it very well though

55. What has been your biggest witchcraft disaster? I can't say if I've ever really had one. I did a job spell and even though I got an interview I didn't get the job, and then was unemployed for a few months until after college semester, then I got hired at my old job. In the spell I said I wanted to be hired somewhere that was as good as my old job so my spell brought me right back to it

56. What has been your biggest witchcraft success? The cleansing ritual story I mentioned above. Once that roommate was out of my life I was so much happier lol.

57. What in your practice do you do that you may feel silly or embarrassed about? Speaking incantations, sometimes I feel like I'm talking to myself lol

58. Do you believe that you can be an atheist, Christian, Muslim or some other faith and still be a witch too? Yes I do, especially because I am an atheist

59. Do you ever feel insecure, unsure or even scared of spell work? Not scared, but definitely unsure and insecure. Spell work is tricky, especially writing my own spells, I feel like I'm not doing them well enough

60. Do you ever hold yourself to a standard in your witchcraft that you feel you may never obtain? Yeah sometimes, I get so bad about actually practicing and I want to get to the point where I practice every day and I always celebrate the Sabbaths and have a wide variety of crystals and learn astrology and so much more

61. What is something witch related that you want right now? I still need to do the money spell I wrote awhile ago, but it has to do with enchanting work uniform and I'm kinda unemployed rn

62. What is your rune of choice? I don't have any experience with runes, sorry lol

63. What is your tarot card of choice? The Star

64. Do you use essential oils? If so what is your favorite? No I dont

65. Have you ever taken any kind of witchcraft or pagan courses? Nope

66. Do you wear pagan jewelry in public? I would if I had any, but I don't lol

67. Have you ever been discriminated against because of your faith or being a witch? Not really, but that's because not a lot of people know about it, I definitely feel like the people that do know don't take it seriously

68. Do you read or subscribe to any pagan magazines? Nope

69. Do you think it’s important to know the history of paganism and witchcraft? I don't think it is. I suggest it definitely but it isn't required. Its a lot if history to break down and you don't need to know the history to practice

70. What are your favorite things about being a witch? I like the feeling of all the things in the world around me, which I feel like you only get from the training you go through when learning witchcraft. I also enjoy the ability to cleanse my environment and myself

71. What are your least favorite things about being a witch? No one really takes you or your craft seriously, and because of some people taking parts of the craft, I feel like being a witch is almost seen as some joke

72. Do you listen to any pagan music? If so who is your favorite singer/band? No I don't, unless you count instrumentals that raise your vibration

73. Do you celebrate the Esbbats? If so, how? I honestly am not sure if I do or not, I don't think I've heard any of the holidays I celebrate called that? I celebrate the pagan wheel of the year holidays so if those are apart of that then yes 😂

74. Do you ever work skyclad? I do sometimes

75. Do you think witchcraft has improved your life? If so, how? Very much so, even though I still struggle with depression and anxiety, witchcraft has made it so much better than it use to be and I feel like I'm happier since I started practicing, my view of life has become more wholesome

76. Where do you draw inspiration from for your practice? Nature mostly

77. Do you believe in ‘fantasy’ creatures? (Unicorns, fairies, elves, gnomes, ghosts, etc) honestly yeah I do, for sure

78. What’s your favorite sigil/symbol? Don't have one

79. Do you use blood magick in your practice? Why or why not? I would, but I haven't in anything so far but that's just cause I haven't felt like a spell needed blood magic

80. Could you ever be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t support your practice? No I couldn't be, I don't want to hide parts of myself from someone that should know me better than anyone else

81. In what area or subject would you most like your craft to grow? I want to explore astrology more and include that more. I also want to do more spell work and ritual work

82. What’s your favorite candle scent? Do you use it in your practice? Again I don't use candles, I do have a air scenter from Bath and Body works and I had a Pumpkin Spice Cupcake scent that was soooo good

83. Do you have a pre-ritual ritual? (I.e. Something you do before rituals to prepare yourself for them). If so what is it? I don't, but that's because I don't really do rituals, I want to get more into them though

84. What real life witch most inspires your practice? I don't know any real life witches tbh

85. What is your favorite method of communicating with deity? I don't work with them so...

86. How do you like to organize all your witchy items and ingredients? I keep them all on the shelf below my altar, my organization skills lack a lot though

87. Do you have any witches in your family that you know of? Not that I know of, my family does come from Ireland though (within the last 3 generations too) so it could be possible

88. How have you created your path? What is unique about it? I created my path through growing up and becoming more aware of my surroundings, and as I matured I understand more and more what witchcraft is really about. And I did it all on my own which is what I think is unique about it

89. Do you feel you have any natural gifts or affinities (premonitions, hearing spirits, etc.) that led you toward the craft? If so what are they? I feel like I am clairvoyant to a certain degree, and I've always had above average visualization skills

90. Do you believe you can initiate yourself or do you have to be initiated by another witch or coven? I feel like you can initiate yourself

91. When you first started out in your path what was the first thing or things you bought? Nothing because I was a child with no money lol

92. What is the most spiritual or magickal place you’ve been? I live in Colorado when I'm not away at school and the entirety of the mountains are pretty magical

93. What’s one piece of advice you’d give someone who is searching for their matron and patron deities? I am definitely not the person for this question lol

94. What techniques do you use to ‘get in the zone’ for meditation? I like to sometimes put on gentle music or nature sounds, quiet every thought that comes into my head

95. Did visualization come easily to you or did you have to practice at it? It came really easily for me, I think its cause I use to read SOOOO much as a kid

96. Do you prefer day or night? Why? Night, idk why I just feel more at peace at Night

97. What do you think is the best time and place to do spell work? This depends on what the spell is, but generally sometime in the evening in my room is the best 😂

98. How did you feel when you cast your first circle? Did you stumble or did it go smoothly? I definitely stumble, I still struggle with casting circles

99. Do you believe witchcraft gets easier with time and practice? I think it does, at least I feel like it comes more naturally with time and practice

100. Do you believe in many gods or one God with many faces? None of the above

101. Do you eat meat, eggs and dairy? Yeah I do, all the time

102. What is your favorite color and why? Green, I've just always loved green since I was a kid idk why

103. What is the one question you get asked most by non-practitioners or non-pagans? How do you usually respond? "What do witches even do?" I usually just say its complicated, because it is complicated lol

104. Which of your five senses would you say is your strongest? I want to say my hearing but I feel like my taste is pretty good too

105. What is a pagan or witchcraft rule that you preach but don’t practice? Always cast a circle and ground yourself before a spell. I am really bad at it lol

#pagan witch #witches sabbat #witch #witches #witchcraft #witchythings #baby witch #witches of tumblr #paganism #pagan holidays #pagan #pagan wicca #pagancommunity #pagan altar #altar #spellwork #spells

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wg420b · 4 years

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The best live TV streaming services: Hulu, Sling TV, YouTube TV, and more

With more and more people abandoning cable networks and switching to streaming services, Live TV is becoming more popular than ever. From Hulu and Sling TV to Youtube TV, there’s more than one way for you to watch televised events or catch up on your favorite network shows.

Each of these services come with their own price tag and list of special features. Differentiating between them can feel overwhelming, but we’ve done our best to simplify the process for you.

Editor’s note: Each service has conditional rules dictating the major networks it carries. Some markets have access to live network channels, including local programming, while others will be on-demand only. In some select locations, one or more of the networks — or even an entire service — may not be available. Check each service’s website for availability in your area.

Hulu + Live TV

Price: $55 per month for around 60 channels and Hulu’s ad-supported, on-demand movie and TV library; add-on channels and features range from $6 to $15 each.

Free trial: Seven-day free trial

Included major networks: ABC, CBS, Fox, NBC, CW

Supported devices: Amazon Fire TV, Android, Apple TV, Chromecast, iOS, Mac, Nintendo Switch, select Roku and Roku TV models, select Samsung and LG smart TVs, Echo Show, Xbox consoles, web browsers.

Number of simultaneous streams: Two at home; Unlimited Screens add-on ($15) allows for unlimited at home and three on mobile.

Who it’s for: Hulu users looking to upgrade to live TV, and just about everyone else.

Where you can watch: U.S. only

As one of the original streaming titans with a specialty in content made for TV, Hulu was always destined to be a force in the live TV streaming game. It was only a matter of time, and sure enough, Hulu has overtaken Dish’s Sling TV in overall subscriber count with 3.2 million paying bingers as of the first quarter of its fiscal 2020. (By contrast, Sling’s last reported subscriber count sat at just under 2.6 million after suffering losses in Q4 2019, while YouTube TV has recently surpassed two million.)

Hulu’s single $55 per month plan (called simply Hulu + Live TV) gives subscribers around 60 live channels. You will get ABC, NBC, CBS, and Fox, either live or on-demand depending on your location, plus dozens of other popular channels, which Hulu lists in full on its website. The service also added ABC News Live, CBSN, and Cheddar to bolster its news lineup. Premium channels like HBO, Showtime, Starz, and Cinemax can be added for an additional fee, and prices are significantly lower than competing services.

Hulu + Live TV also provides 12 different sports channels, including ESPN, CSN, and Fox Sports 1.

Hulu + Live TV also presents some stiff competition when it comes to sports, providing a variety of channels, including ESPN and Fox Sports 1. Hulu + Live TV lets users follow their favorite sports teams from the NFL, NCAA, NBA, MLS, MLB, and NHL, and record their games, provided they’re available. In some instances, Hulu strikes deals to pick up specialty sports channels, such as the Chicago Cubs’ Marquee Sports Network set to launch later this year. You can also use your Hulu + Live TV login information to sign in to the ESPN App to access live ESPN coverage via ESPN Plus.

Sweetening matters further, Hulu + Live TV subscribers have full access to Hulu’s full on-demand streaming library and Hulu original content, essentially coupling a basic Hulu subscription (normally $6 per month) with live TV. Note that this is the ad-supported version of Hulu, so you’ll need to add another $6 if you want no interruptions. This gives the service a serious edge for current Hulu subscribers. Hulu’s on-demand library is already very good, with some of the best original TV series around. It also includes 50 hours of DVR storage for recording live TV.

Hulu’s guide and curation are also worth mentioning. Hulu allows users to organize the programming into a favorites tab and control content suggestions by removing items from their watch history or by selecting the Stop Suggesting This option on recommended content they’re not interested in. Learn more about Hulu + Live TV in our comprehensive guide.

Sling TV

Price: Sling Orange: $30 per month for 30-plus channels; Sling Blue: $30 per month for 40-plus channels; Blue + Orange: $45 per month for 45-plus channels; additional channel add-on packs and features range from $5 to $25.

Free trial: Seven-day free trial

Included major networks: NBC and Fox

Supported devices: Amazon Fire TV and Fire tablets, Android, Apple TV, Airplay, AirTV, AirTV 2, Chromecast, iOS, Mac, Nvidia Shield, Select LG Smart TVs, LeEco devices, Roku, Samsung Smart TVs and Blu-ray players, Chrome web browser, Windows, Xbox One consoles, Xfinity X1, Xiaomi Mi Box, ZTE devices, Oculus devices.

Number of simultaneous streams: Sling Orange: One; Sling Blue: Three

Who it’s for: Customers who want a customizable, à la carte experience.

Where you can watch: U.S. only

Sling TV currently offers the most flexibility of all the live TV streaming services out there, at least when it comes to your content and pricing options. Sling TV uses an à la carte model, with base channel packages and a bevy of add-ons. The base packages, while largely similar, do have some major differences — namely that ABC and Disney-owned channels (including ESPN, and therefore support for ESPN Plus) are only present in Orange, while Blue carries NBC, Fox, and other sports channels like NFL Network and NFL Redzone, and soon, the Big Ten Network.

If you want all of those channels, you’ll need to spring for the $45 package, which includes everything in Blue and Orange, or you can augment either package with add-on channels. Add-on packages also vary in pricing and included channels, depending on which package you’re subscribed to, but you can expect to pay between $5 and $25 per month for each. In addition, a dispute over licensing with AT&T has resulted in a blackout of HBO and Univision channels on Sling TV and its parent company, Dish Network.

The packages can be a little confusing. For instance, even though Sling advertises the Blue + Orange package as a $15 discount at $45, that’s some seriously questionable logic given how many channels the two plans have in common. You are definitely not getting twice the number of channels. Still, it’s fairly easy to parse when you see all the packages laid out in front of you. You will find full listings on Sling TV’s website.

In terms of bonus features, Sling TV is pretty standard, but it does have some unique standouts. The first is Game Finder, a search feature on the Sling TV website that finds live and upcoming sports content available for your channel package and region. There’s also a bandwidth limiter, which will help keep you from going over your data limits — streaming video content can eat up data quickly, after all, so this is a welcome feature.

Sling Orange subscribers will have access to a single stream, while Blue allows for up to three streams simultaneously. As for other features, video on demand, pause/rewind/fast-forwarding and “catch-up watching” are content-specific. Sling recently added 10 hours of cloud DVR to the service’s built-in cost, so you pay nothing for the privilege to catch up on any missed broadcasts. For more room, users will have to add another $5 for 50 hours of cloud DVR. Despite the extra cost, the good news is that cloud DVR is available on just about every Sling-supported device except for the Xfinity X1, and your recordings stick around as long as you maintain your account. You can get the gist of everything Sling has to offer by reading our Sling TV guide.

YouTube TV

Price $50 per month for 70-plus channels; add-on packages range from $3 to $40.

Free trial: Seven-day free trial

Included major networks: ABC, CBS, Fox, NBC, CW

Supported devices: Android, Android TV, Apple TV, Amazon Fire TV, Chromecast, iOS, Nvidia Shield, Roku, Chrome web browser, Xbox One and PlayStation 4 consoles, Vizio SmartCast TVs, and select Samsung, LG, Hisense, and Sharp smart TVs

Number of simultaneous streams: Six

Who it’s for: Those who are deeply devoted to Google and want a simple package.

Where you can watch: U.S. only

YouTube TV’s sole package costs $50 per month for new subscribers. In the past, availability was limited, but as of March 2019, it is now available nationwide. Still, you may want to check its website to confirm which local channels are available in your area.

YouTube TV costs $50 per month for 70-plus channels, including all major networks (ABC, NBC, Fox, CBS, and CW).

If you are eligible, YouTube TV includes major networks — ABC, NBC, Fox, CBS, and CW — and a bevy of other popular channels at a reasonable price, and its local affiliate programming has also expanded and is now available to 100% of customers. It also has a large number of sports channels for the price.

Add-on networks include Showtime, Fox Soccer Plus, Shudder, Sundance Now, and Starz. HBO is notably missing as of this writing, but Google recently announced a Spring 2020 arrival, which we presume will be tied into the launch of the all-encompassing HBO Max slated for May 2020. In the meantime, you can simply sign up for HBO Now separately for $15 per month, but if you’re looking to combine all your internet TV into one package, YouTube TV isn’t the place (for now, at least).

YouTube TV users enjoy some of the most flexible cloud DVR support, allowing users to store unlimited hours of programming for up to nine months after recording, with standard pause/rewind and catch-up features available. If you have a Google Home device and a Chromecast, YouTube TV can be controlled with voice commands via Google Assistant. Similarly, Google Assistant can even inform you of what content is currently saved to your DVR. If you’re an Android diehard who uses Google’s ecosystem to its fullest, then YouTube TV may be the perfect addition.

One area of uncertainty is Google’s ability to negotiate long-term deals with the networks. We’ve already seen a bit of shakiness early on with negotiations for Sinclair Broadcast Group’s massive collection of regional channels hitting a standstill. The previous deal — which nets YouTube a massive collection of Fox Sports regional channels and the YES network — has been extended temporarily as the two sides hammer out a new contract, though there are no guarantees we’ll see a mutual agreement to sign those papers. Read our YouTube TV guide for more info.

AT&T TV Now

Price: Plus: $65 per month for 40-plus channels, including HBO; Max: $80 per month for 50-plus channels, including HBO and Cinemax; Entertainment: $93 per month for 65-plus channels; Choice: $110 per month for 85-plus channels; Xtra: $124 per month for 105-plus channels; Ultimate: $135 per month for 125-plus channels; Optimo Más: $86 per month for over 90 channels of English and Spanish live TV; add-on channels and features available from $5 per month; additional cloud DVR space for $10 per month.

Free trial: Seven-day free trial

Included major networks: ABC, Fox, NBC, CBS

Supported devices: Amazon Fire TV, Android, Apple TV, Chromecast, iOS, Mac, Roku, Chrome web browsers, Safari, Xbox One console (coming soon)

Number of simultaneous streams: Two; three for $5 more per month

Who it’s for: Those who don’t mind trading features for lots of channels.

Where you can watch: U.S. only

Formerly known as DirecTV Now, AT&T TV Now is another service with high channel counts and multiple package tiers, and it’s close to the experience you’ll get with cable or satellite when it comes to available channels. In August 2018, AT&T TV Now took a major leap forward for football fans, adding the NFL Network to several of its base packages, but then negotiations with the NFL fell through and both the NFL Network and Red Zone Channel were removed from all AT&T TV Now packages on April 15, 2019. They may be brought back in the future.

AT&T TV Now offers a base DVR for free, with 20 hours of recording per month, and will store recorded content for up to 30 days, after which it will be deleted to make room for new recordings. If that’s not quite enough for you, an upgrade is available for $10 per month that increases your DVR allowances to 100 recording hours and 90 days for storage. While these DVR features are better than most, it’s worth noting that AT&T TV Now’s True Cloud DVR has a severe limitation on channels that can be paused, fast forwarded, or rewound compared to other services. On the plus side, though, you’ll be able to watch all your DVR content from any device, even when on mobile devices outside your home Wi-Fi network. Recent updates also now allow HBO and Cinemax programming on the DVR service.

Another consideration is the number of simultaneous streams if you share the account with multiple people. By default, AT&T TV Now offers just two simultaneous streams in every subscription level. You can up this to three streams for $5 per month.

For more information, see our guide to everything you need to know about AT&T TV Now.

AT&T TV

Price: Entertainment: $50/$93 per month for 65-plus channels; Choice: $55/$110 per month for 85-plus channels; Xtra: $65/$124 per month for 105-plus channels; Ultimate: $70/$135 per month for 140-plus channels.

Free trial: Not available

Included Major Networks: ABC, Fox, NBC, CBS

Supported Devices: AT&T-provided Android TV box, iOS, Android

Number of simultaneous streams: Three

Who it’s for: Fans of traditional cable looking for something different.

Where you can watch: U.S. only

AT&T’s live TV streaming options are ridiculously confusing. It began with DirecTV Now, then rebranded to AT&T TV Now, which mirrors AT&T’s typical cable pricing structure and channel availability, but without hidden fees and long-term commitments. Then AT&T launched a bite-sized streaming service dubbed AT&T WatchTV with far fewer channel options, but with a much lower cost and designed mostly for mobile users.

AT&T TV — which launched nationwide in the United States March 2, 2020 — is more like the former, except it unashamedly stirs the traditional pay-TV traps back into the pot. It’s an internet-driven service, so you’re technically cutting the cord, but AT&T still requires a two-year contract with promotional pricing that jumps dramatically after the first year. For instance, the base Entertainment package costs $50 per month for around 70 channels, but that’ll spike to $93 once your initial year expires. Each package comes with the premium cocktail of HBO, Starz, and Cinemax free for three months, but you’ll have to pay up afterward. Cancellation and activation fees also come along for what’s supposed to be a streaming revolution. Thankfully, the 500 hours of Cloud DVR you get are baked into the cost no matter your plan.

So, why should you even consider AT&T TV? Besides the fact that it will eventually replace DirecTV and U-verse, AT&T hopes to entice you with a set-top box powered by Android TV, which offers more than 5,000 apps and games through Google Play, plus supporting mobile apps for Android and iOS devices. A slick user interface puts all your favorite content front and center, whether it’s one of the live channels in your package or a third-party subscription like Netflix. You’re also getting up to 55,000 on-demand titles, and the included voice remote with Google Assistant makes it simple to find your next binge material.

One potential sweetener in this odd deal is a limited-time promotional bundle that’ll net you AT&T TV and the company’s gigabit home internet service for a reasonable $80 monthly fee, which is about $20 cheaper than they’d cost separately, but again, that price won’t last forever.

Need a deeper dive? Check AT&T’s website for the full channel listings if you’re considering signing up. If you’re overwhelmed with the choices, we’ve detangled AT&T’s confusing web of streaming services for you.

Philo

Price: $20 per month for 58-plus channels.

Free trial: Seven-day free trial

Included major networks: Zero

Supported devices: Amazon Fire TV, Apple TV, iOS, Chrome, Roku, Android TV

Number of simultaneous streams: Three

Who it’s for: Lovers of popular cable channels who don’t mind skipping local networks and sports.

Where you can watch: U.S. only

Philo, like nearly every other service listed here, gives you a long list of popular cable channels to watch live over the internet. Though it no longer offers the ultra-cheap $16 per month package for new subscribers, its sole $20 per month option remains a compelling offer. It differs significantly in what content it supports, though — or, more accurately, doesn’t support. Despite boasting a bunch of channels, including Viacom-owned favorites like MTV and Comedy Central, the four major networks — Fox, NBC, CBS, and ABC — are not carried by Philo, nor is anything from ABC’s parent company, Disney. That means, along with no local affiliates, there is also no ESPN. When it comes to local stations, though, many viewers can get them over the air with a simple (and affordable) HD antenna.

Feature-wise, Philo is similar to the other services above (and cheaper, to boot). DVR access allows for recording and storing content, though your DVR content will only stick around for a limited time — 30 days, in this case. Another feature Philo includes is the ability to access content from paywalled apps for channels carried by Philo. For example, since Philo’s channel package includes AMC and Nickelodeon, you’ll be able to download and watch through the dedicated AMC and Nickelodeon apps at no extra charge by signing in with your Philo account.

Philo does lack the comprehensive app and device support of its rivals. For a long time, only Roku, iOS devices, and the Chrome browser were supported, but the service came to Apple TV and Amazon Fire TV devices in July 2018. Philo claims even more devices are on the way, but for now, the truncated device support is a drawback. That said, if you have a supported device and don’t mind skipping sports and the big networks (or can find them with an antenna), Philo is one of the more affordable ways to get live TV. For more on the service, check out our Philo guide.

AT&T WatchTV

Price: $15 per month for 35-plus channels; free with unlimited AT&T wireless plans.

Free trial: Seven-day free trial

Included major networks: Zero

Supported devices: Apple TV, Chromecast, Amazon Fire TV, iOS, Android

Number of simultaneous streams: One

Who it’s for: AT&T customers and casual TV viewers who aren’t looking for sports or local programming.

Where you can watch: United States, Puerto Rico, and the U.S. Virgin Islands

AT&T’s WatchTV is one of the most confusing services on this list. AT&T owns AT&T TV Now and is rumored to be working up yet another, so doesn’t it already have a live TV streaming service? Yes, it does, but the two are going for two completely different types of customers.

While AT&T TV Now is for the customer who is looking to replace their cable service, AT&T WatchTV is more like Philo. You shouldn’t look at it as a replacement for all of your live TV needs. Instead, view it as a supplement to on-demand streaming services like Netflix. It’s a great add-on if you value the channels it offers: A&E, AMC, CNN, Comedy Central, HGTV, Discovery, and TBS, just to name some of the big ones. HBO, Cinemax, Starz, and Showtime are all available as optional add-ons, starting at $14 per month each. If you’re mainly a binge watcher but want the occasional bit of live TV, WatchTV might be for you. Throw in an HD antenna and you’ve got a pretty good setup. In addition to the live channels, there’s also a pretty decent selection of 15,000 on-demand movies and shows.

One group that WatchTV really shines for is AT&T Wireless customers. If you have one of AT&T’s wireless plans with unlimited data, you get WatchTV free. If you have the &More plan, you even get a few bonus channels to choose from including HBO, Showtime, Cinemax, and Starz, though you only get to pick one.

You won’t find any fancy features in WatchTV like time-shifting or any other DVR features, but if all you need are a few live channels and you’re not looking to pay much, it’s definitely an option worth considering.

Amazon Prime Live Channels

Bill Roberson/Digital Trends

Price: Free; premium channels range from $3 to $25 monthly.

Free trial: 30-day Amazon Prime trial

Included major networks: None

Supported devices: Live channel features only available on Amazon Fire TV; channel content can be accessed by any device that supports Prime Video Now.

Number of simultaneous streams: None

Who it’s for: Amazon Prime users who want to consolidate their apps and monthly bills to a single location.

Where you can watch: U.S. only

Amazon Prime has a long list of perks for its members, but one of the lesser-known incentives is the ability to augment your Prime Video library with a handful of curated TV channels. Compared to the other services here, Amazon Prime’s channel add-ons don’t pose much competition. Prime simply offers a small number of channels currently supported by just Fire TV.

For Amazon Fire TV users (no coincidence that it requires an in-house device), a small selection of these channels can be browsed via a Live Now menu, which includes a programming guide so you can see what’s on next. As of this writing, only a small number of premium channels — including CBS All Access, HBO, Cinemax, Starz, Showtime, Epix, and PixL — will show up in the Live Now section, and only if you’re subscribed to them through Amazon Prime’s channels. The number is growing, however, and now includes more niche options in BritBox, PBSKids, and PBS Masterpiece. We’re hopeful for an even more varied selection in the near future. Don’t forget that Amazon is increasingly involved in live sports streaming as well, with the company most notably offering several games per year from the NFL, NBA, and MLB — some for free — across Amazon Prime and its game-streaming platform, Twitch.

A perk to a setup like this is that it will directly integrate into Amazon’s growing ecosystem of connected devices. That means you’ll be able to check what’s on the premium Prime add-on channels just by talking to Alexa. That feature might not be a game-changer, but it’s helpful nonetheless, and only serves to strengthen the case for subscribing to these channels if you’re an Amazon Prime member not subscribed to them elsewhere.

For now, this isn’t quite an option for supplanting a subscription to more well-rounded services like Sling or Hulu + Live TV, but it is a worthwhile Prime feature that will hopefully continue to grow and evolve.

Pluto TV

Price: Free

Included major networks: None; CBSN, NBC News, CNN, and MSNBC news programming available.

Supported devices: Amazon Fire TV and Fire tablets, Android, Android TV, Apple TV, Chromecast, iOS, Roku, web browsers; select Sony, Samsung, HiSense, and Vizio Smart TVs under the WatchFree brand

Number of simultaneous streams: None

Who it’s for: Live TV streaming newbies who want to see what all the fuss is about.

Where you can watch: U.S. and U.K.

Now owned by Viacom, Pluto TV might be a new name to some, but the service has been quietly plugging along since 2013, and today has over 22 million active users, making it the largest free TV streaming service in the U.S. Like the other services on this list, it has become a solution for those who want easy access to a library of both live and on-demand content — everything from TV series to movies, to popular internet content creators. Unlike the others, however, Pluto TV is entirely free.

Pluto TV features more than 100 live channels including CBSN, Bloomberg, MSNBC, Sky News, movie channels, and live sports, plus 35 music streaming channels.

No, really. For the cool price of zero dollars a month, Pluto TV will provide you access to select content from more than 100 live channels, including, CBSN, Bloomberg TV, MSNBC, Sky News, movie channels, and live sports, plus 35 music-streaming channels. New additions include Pluto TV sitcoms, offering a selection of aging comedies like 3rd Rock from the Sun and The Lucy Show, and Spanish language channel Pluto TV Cine. Dog The Bounty Hunter even gets his own channel. Users will also enjoy a library of on-demand content.

You’re likely thinking, “What’s the catch?” The answer is simple: ads. Pluto TV is entirely ad-supported. These ads are not skippable, and some have found them intrusive, but it may be a worthwhile price to pay for totally free content.

The other caveat is that the majority of these channels aren’t actually TV channels but internet channels, meaning stuff from websites and online creators like IGN, CNET, and Cheddar, rather than from traditional TV channels. You’ll still get those, too, but you won’t find any of the major prime-time networks or cable favorites like Comedy Central, Syfy, or FX here. Still, major broadcasters are beginning to show up, like CNN, which has its own channel of curated highlight segments pulled from its live cable TV offering.

You also won’t find many special features, either — no DVR, no user profiles (though you can easily sign up for multiple free accounts), etc. Still, PlutoTV has a solid collection of free, curated TV, film, music, and internet video content, and it’s available on a respectable number of platforms. For those considering the dive into online TV streaming, Pluto TV is a good first dip of the toes.

For a more in-depth examination, head over to our PlutoTV explainer.

FuboTV

Price: $55 per month for the Fubo Standard package; $60 per month for Fubo Family; $80 per month for Fubo Ultra.

Free trial: Seven-day free trial

Included major networks: NBC, CBS, Fox, CW, AMC

Supported devices: Amazon Fire TV, Android, Android TV, Apple TV, Chromecast, iOS, Roku, Samsung Smart TVs, web browsers

Number of simultaneous streams: Two; three for $6 more per month via Family Share add-on.

Who it’s for: Those who mainline live sports, but still want access to entertainment and lifestyle content.

Where you can watch: U.S., Canada, and Spain, though only a handful of channels are available outside of the U.S.

A few of the previous services have been notable for their sports content (YouTube TV and Hulu + Live TV, in particular), but if sports are one of your primary interests, you’ll want to look into FuboTV. This is another relatively new service that has been gaining some recognition for the niche it appeals to. Its most recent subscriber count — from January 2020 — sat between 300,000 and 400,000, up from around 250,000 in September 2018. That may not be the millions of subscribers boasted of by Hulu and Sling, but it is substantial growth.

FuboTV offers a multitude of plans. Fubo Standard is the classic package. For $55 per month, it offers over 100 channels, the exact count depending on your market. It comes with 30 hours of Cloud DVR and promises over 130 live events to be broadcast in 4K. The Family package bumps the cost up to $60, but with an added 500 hours of cloud DVR space and the ability to use three screens at once, up from two. The Family Plan with Showtime bundle offers all of that stuff with access to all of Showtime’s content (sports or otherwise) for $70. Then there’s Ultra, which adds another 21 channels via the Sports Plus add-on, nine channels from Showtime, and 38 entertainment channels through the Fubo Extra add-on.

To be clear, you don’t have to opt for Fubo Ultra just to have access to your sports. You can add Fubo Extra, Sports Plus, Cloud DVR Plus, and more to the standard Fubo service separately. The only difference is you’ll save more money by bundling, up to 20% on Ultra.

All plans include a healthy mix of both sports and non-sports channels, such as NBC Sports Network, NFL Network, NBA TV, and the Pac-12 Network on the sports side, along with staples like HGTV, FX, and widespread local network channel support on the other. In August 2018, FuboTV signed a multiyear deal bringing the Turner networks — including TNT, TBS, CNN, Cartoon Network, Adult Swim, TruTV, TCM, and HLN — to the service.

It followed this up in April 2019 by adding a roster of Viacom channels, including, BET, CMT, Comedy Central, MTV, Nickelodeon, Nick Jr., Paramount Network, TV Land, VH1, BET Her, BET Jams, BET Soul, Logo, MTV2, MTV Classic, MTV Live, MTVU, Nick Music, Nicktoons, and TeenNick, as well as Viacom’s Telefe and MTV Tr3s networks.

One notable way in which FuboTV differs from every other service on this list is that it is currently the only service to offer streaming in 4K resolution with HDR10 high-dynamic-range. Content is limited, but you can generally expect many major sporting events and championships to have 4K feeds. Fubo keeps a running schedule of its Ultra HD programming at its website, so refer to that if you’re looking for something to take advantage of your new crystal clear TV.

Sports nuts would have to spend more money on another service to get a portion of the channels offered by FuboTV, but there is one glaring omission to its sports listings: ESPN. The service does not currently carry ESPN, ABC, or any other Disney-owned properties, and it can’t be used to access ESPN Plus through the ESPN app, so if those are a staple of your sports coverage consumption, FuboTV isn’t going to satisfy your appetite.

That’s not to say there aren’t lots of sports extras — there are. You can up either of the subscription packages with optional monthly add-ons, such as:

21-channel Sports Plus ($9)

30-channel NBA League Pass ($29)

5-channel International Sports Plus ($6)

FuboTV has quickly evolved into a more well-rounded service than it was at launch, with an increased focus on entertainment options. It’s still probably not for everyone, but if you’re a hardcore sports fan or even just a casual soccer fan, it’s worth a look.

Want to know more about FuboTV? Get the bigger picture of everything it has to offer in our FuboTV guide.

Editors' Recommendations

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damienthepious · 5 years

Text

it’s PROPOSAL/MARRIAGE day for penumbra pride week, and if I didn’t put up more of this fic I would cancel myself

The Rite Of Movement (Chapter 4)

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [ao3] [Ch 5]

[Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla, The Keep, Original Monster Character(s), Sir Marc, Sir Talfryn, Sir Angelo, Quanyii, Sir Caroline

Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Engagement, Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Poetry, Presents, Monster Customs, Dancing

Fic Summary: Arum has a surprising revelation about his own feelings, and then decides to take matters into his own claws since his humans don’t seem to realize what they are denying themselves.

Chapter Summary: A few personal invitations, and some uninvited guests.

Chapter Notes: Y'all this chapter went a bit off the rails, and I think you'll be able to tell exactly where it happened. That's mostly why it took a full month between the last one and this. Forgive me? <3 thank you, as always, for reading <3

***

It’s easier, with Tal still writing up his field guide to Arum’s swamp, for Rilla to bully the brothers into stopping by her hut for a visit. Wherever they are, the Keep can provide an easy door, and all Rilla has to do is time it right and give them an expectant, inarguable glare. Plying them with food usually helps, too.

When she has them settled in the front room of her hut, picking eagerly at a plate of laddu and a few extra chocolates Arum claims did not meet his exacting standard for the engagement gift, she gets to the point.

“We’ve set a tentative date for the wedding,” she says, pouring tea with the hint of a smile on her lips.

Tal smiles, head tilting slightly to the side. “That’s great, Rilla! When-”

“Finally. Took you two long enough,” Marc complains through a mouthful, rolling his eyes.

“Actually, it will be us three, Marc,” she corrects. Her voice and face are both entirely calm, but there is a tightness to the way she sets down the kettle.

“Huh,” Talfryn says, puzzled, and then more emphatically, “Oh, um-”

“Scales actually agreed to marry you?” Marc asks incredulously. “I figured he’d be a hard sell on matrimony considering how aggressively he likes to pretend to not have feelings, like, at all.”

“He-” Rilla pauses, biting her lip to keep her smile from getting too wide. “He asked us, actually.”

Tal and Marc exchange a shocked look, more at the shy joy in Rilla’s expression than at the information itself.

“Well- congratulations!” Tal says, finding his voice earlier than his brother.

“Yeah, what he said,” Marc says, still seeming a little dazed.

“Thanks.” Rilla preens, just a little. “The event itself is gonna be fairly small. For obvious reasons.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Marc says with a snort. “What’s it, just us and Angelo?”

Rilla sighs as Talfryn elbows his brother in the ribs. “Plus the Keep, maybe Quanyii if we can reach her, and a couple of Arum’s friends, apparently.”

“Scales has friends?” Marc asks, and Tal elbows him harder, and hisses his name. “Ow! What? He just doesn’t seem like the type is all.”

“Why, because he’s a monster?” Rilla attempts to feign outrage, but she’s still too overtly pleased to actually pull it off.

“Mostly just ‘cause you and Sir Damien are the only people he seems to actually, like, like. And I mean ‘people’ in the broadest possible sense. I mean, I helped save his weird castle thing and everything,” he says with a pointed gesture that nearly spills his tea, “but I still think I’m only on the barely-tolerable list.”

“He did come around to see us a lot in the last couple weeks, while I was working on the guidebook. He answered some of the questions I had for him,” Talfryn says, pursing his lips in consideration. “And he kept bringing- well,” he nudges one of the chocolates with a finger, expression puzzled, “a lot of these.”

“It was definitely the most aggressively I’ve ever been offered candy,” Marc says. “Actually I wouldn’t even say offered, really-”

“The plain ones were good from the beginning, at least-”

“Yeah but batch three of the raspberry ones stained our mouths purple for like, four days.”

“Well, that’s true, but when he switched-”

“Tal. Marc.” Rilla leans forward. “Do you want to come to my wedding or not?”

Their eyes collectively widen, and Talfryn nearly chokes on his breath to answer. “Of- of course, Rilla of course we do-”

“Obviously,” Marc adds. “I mean, I was gonna come to your wedding when it was just you and Damien, and I like scales a hell of a lot better than I- ow, Tal, my ribs.”

Rilla grins as Marc scowls at his brother. “Good. Thank you.” She pauses to tuck a bit of unraveled braid back behind her ear. “It’s gonna be on the next full moon. Even you two can keep track of the phases of the moon, right?”

“Of course we can!” Marc complains, and Rilla gives him a look before she turns to Talfryn instead.

“I won’t let him forget, Rilla,” Talfryn says, smiling. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

***

The instant Sir Damien manages to find himself alone with Sir Angelo in the halls of the Citadel, he pulls his friend aside, the words bubbling out of him in excitement.

“Sir Angelo, I have a favor to ask of you, but it will require a degree of… discretion, my friend, and before I ask this favor I must ask for an assurance that you will not draw undue attention our way when I ask. Is this fair?”

Angelo gives Damien a wide-eyed look. “I am the very picture of discretion, Sir Damien! You may rely upon my quietude and discretion and- and another word for the same skill. I am quite adept!”

Damien grips Angelo’s arm, and drags him further down the corridor, jaw clenched in mingled amusement and concern.

“Oh-” Angelo ducks his head, and lowers his voice minimally. “Oh, I was shouting again, wasn’t I?”

“Indeed.”

“Apologies, Sir Damien. I know not my own strength, nor do I know my own volume.”

“I know, Sir Angelo,” Damien smiles. “It’s alright. Here, this one is empty.”

Damien leads Angelo into a small room (or, perhaps, large closet), full of half-destroyed training dummies but empty of other people, and when he closes the door behind them he can’t quite clamp down on his grin.

“You have been positively jolly for days, my friend! What favor could you need when you seem so content already?”

Damien laughs softly, glances at the door one more time, and then quietly says, “You know, of course, that Rilla and I have been engaged for some time now.”

Angelo perks up immediately, grinning wide. “Of course! I have been anticipating eagerly the day when I may act as your second in this most joyous of events!”

Damien winces, furtively looking to the door again, and Angelo shuffles his feet in embarrassment before he repeats his entire point verbatim at approximately half the volume.

“Well,” Damien says, “you won’t have to live in anticipation for much longer, my friend.”

Angelo gasps, clamping his hands over his mouth and muffling as he says, “Sir Damien-”

“We plan to wed in a month,” he says, his grin irrepressible. “On the full moon. Rilla, and I, and…” the grin finally weakens, his nerves slipping cold fingers between his ribs, “and Lord Arum,” he finishes quietly.

“Oh.” Angelo looks puzzled for a moment, and then his expression opens back into bright, wild joy. “Oh. Oh,” and he’s half shouting again until Damien grips the wrist of his armor in warning and he manages to muffle his voice into a reasonable volume that trembles with desire to raise again. “Oh, Sir Damien!”

“I know it is unusual-” Damien starts, but Angelo shakes his head quickly and enthusiastically and puts his hands down heavily on Damien’s shoulders.

“That is fantastic, Sir Damien! You are so utterly spoiled with love, and I cannot think of any man who deserves it quite so much as you do, my friend!”

Damien feels the tears at the corners of his eyes almost instantly, and he valiantly tries to hold them back. “You- you are unconcerned that-”

“Lord Arum is a friend,” Angelo says, as if he is explaining something quite simple. “And it is clear how deeply he cares for the both of you. An abundance of love is nothing to be concerned with, Sir Damien. It is something to be celebrated!” Angelo is certainly shouting now, and when Damien wipes at his eyes and waves a hand in the air, Angelo winces apologetically and lowers his tone again. “Celebrated… quietly! Of course!”

Damien sniffles, just a little. “Yes. Yes, that is- thank you, Sir Angelo. I never should have worried. And- you will be able to… to keep this event appropriately quiet, won’t you? It is going to be a rather… private affair.”

“I… private.” Angelo frowns. “Yes. Of course! Er- with… with whom, Sir Damien, may I discuss this happy and very private event?”

“Er… Talfryn and- and Marc. Primarily.”

Angelo pauses, and then it is his turn to sniffle. Just a little. “Ah, Sir Damien…” his lip wobbles. “Would that I could shout your joy from the rooftops of this city, my friend.”

“I know, Sir Angelo, I know.” Damien smiles, a little wryly. “No one else… I cannot expect that they would understand. I myself took so long to begin to reconcile with the truth of the matter… as much as it pains me to bottle up my feelings and my love and the truth of my heart, it matters far more to me to keep my flowers safe. It is only a drop of poison, and I will drink it readily to keep far greater evils from their cups.”

Angelo’s smile blooms slow, and he squeezes his hands on Damien’s shoulders again. “That,” he says, “is precisely how a husband should think.”

***

The Keep alerts Arum of the trouble in the late afternoon, and its portal quickly displaces him near the northern edge of his swamp.

He sees the commotion right away. A monster - large soft moth wings camouflaged gray-brown and convincing mossy green, a segmented body, twitching antennae, eyes narrowed in a glare and clawed appendages scrabbling with menace - is caught in one of his traps. A nonlethal one, more lucky this creature - or at least, an incredibly slowly lethal one. He arches an eyebrow, folding his arms behind his back primly.

“It appears you are trespassing on my land,” he says, voice low and mild and shivering with danger. “I could have simply had the Keep eject you to the edge of the swamp, but it informs me that it has already done so. Twice. Perhaps you are confused,” he offers, gesturing, “and so I will give you this advice; the Swamp of Titan’s Blooms is protected, and if you continue to intrude upon it, you will not find those protections so…” he tilts his head at the enormous flytrap, its maw sinking slow enough as to be near imperceptible over the moth, “so accommodating. You will pass another way, or you will meet hungrier teeth than these.”

“’M not trying to pass by,” the creature says in a whispering lilt. “Been trying to talk. Been trying to get your attention, Lord of the Swamp.”

“What.” Arum’s eyes narrow, instantly on alert. “Why? What business could you have with me? I am not offering my services at the moment, I’ve made that perfectly clear.”

The creature flutters slightly, wings cramped by the trap, staring at him intently. “I’ve heard tell that humans have been creeping in on your land, Lord Arum. Have they met with such hungry teeth as you say?”

Arum’s tail curls in slow, dangerous coils behind him, his frill shivering at his neck. “And where… precisely… did you hear tell of that?” he hisses.

“Depends. Is any of it true?”

Arum glares at the creature, and then he unsheathes one of his knives.

A rustle off to his left makes him duck instinctively, stance defensive, but all that stumbles from the undergrowth is a human, hands empty and upturned in a pleading gesture.

“Wait please don’t hurt- don’t hurt her, we’ll leave-”

“Oh you absolute fool,” the moth mutters, dropping her face into a pair of claws. “Puck-”

Arum stares incredulously as the human winces, hands still held in that defensive, placating stance.

“He was going to stab you-”

“I most certainly was not,” Arum says. “Who- what-”

“We didn’t know where else to go,” the human - Puck? - says. “And Tetch heard about that human at Helicoid’s court, saying she loved you and-”

Arum blanches, teeth baring in distress, and the human stops, stepping sideways between Arum and the moth.

“Just- don’t hurt her. If you let her go we’ll- we’ll leave. Please.”

Arum is utterly comfortable with Amaryllis and Damien, and by now it is not even unusual to speak casually with Sirs Marc and Talfryn and Angelo, but the tone this human stranger is taking with him now is setting off more alarm bells than Arum knows what to do with.

“You- why would you care if a human claimed to-” he pauses to project a sneer, “to care for me? And why do you care what happens to this creature?” He eyes the human, then glances back to the moth, who has gone still in what appears to be terror. He takes an experimental step forward, closer to the human, and the moth does not disappoint. Her wings stutter wildly, her antennae twitching as she reaches through the bars of the flytrap’s teeth.

“Don’t- don’t hurt them, don’t you dare-”

Arum stops. “You both seem utterly convinced that I am going to hurt you, considering that you chose to come here.”

“So we made a mistake, I get it.” The human reaches out and grips the moth’s claw, their eyes wide and frightened. “If you let her go, we’ll leave. We won’t bother you again. We’ll find somewhere else-”

The moth makes a hissing noise, clutching tighter at the human’s hand. “Stop talking, Puck, he isn’t going to-”

“Release her,” Arum says, making a light gesture with one hand and sheathing his knife with another, and the flytrap begrudgingly creaks open.

The moth gives an uncomfortable burst of clicks as the teeth raise, and Arum realizes belatedly that the trap has pierced one of her wings through. At a cursory glance the damage does not look too terrible, but she will certainly be unable to fly for the time being. Arum rankles slightly, and thinks, that is not my fault.

Once she is un-pinned, the moth clambers out as quickly as she is able, and immediately wraps her uninjured wing around the human, glaring protectively over their shoulder at Arum. He raises an eyebrow.

“Well?” he grumbles. “You’re free. Leave.”

“Just- just like that?” the human says, and the moth tightens her grip. “You don’t- you don’t care that we’re-”

“Correct,” Arum says primly. “However that sentence ends, I do not care. Leave. Leave my swamp.”

“Don’t question it,” the moth mutters, pulling the human back a step or two.

“No, wait, Tetch, your wing, you won’t be able to-”

“I don’t need to fly to leave this wretched place.”

Arum doesn’t take offense at that; hopefully it means they will leave that much quicker.

“Even so, just let me treat it first, you stubborn thing,” the human says, and then they pull a folded leather pouch from their bag, and Arum watches impatiently and uncomfortably as they unwrap a roll of near translucently thin parchment, unroll it, and tear off an appropriately sized patch. They apply a strange smelling glue around the edges, and delicately press the sheet over the wound to seal it. Arum notices, now that he has the context for it, that the moth’s wings have been mended this way in the past, that there are a number of these patches, with patterns hand-painted to match the coloring of her natural wings.

Arum is reminded, in a vivid and unbidden way, of his own hands, gently tying his torn cape around the wound on Damien’s arm after their second duel. It is an unwelcome feeling. An unpleasant one, in that he despises being caused to feel any kinship with these strangers, with this bold little human and their monster.

“Wonderful,” the moth gripes, and Arum can hear the embarrassed fondness she’s trying to hide, and it irritates him even more.

“Indeed,” he drawls. “Now. If you don’t mind terribly. Keep, a portal to the northern border of the swamp, if you would.”

The portal curls itself out of the damp ground, and the two strangers step back from it automatically, startled by how quickly it appears. The moth looks at Arum warily as if she suspects him of deceit, but she nods after only a moment and pulls the human towards the exit.

“But that’s back the way we came. What are we supposed to do after that? We haven’t anywhere else to go, Tetch.” The human furrows their brow, digs in their heels and turns towards Arum with a look of determined worry. “Please. Please. Your land is vast, Lord Arum. There must be somewhere we could stay, if only for a short while, where we wouldn’t cause you trouble.”

Arum thinks of Amaryllis, the first time she looked out his balcony at the full scope of what is his; the wonder in her eyes, and the pulse of pride and pleasure it had sent through him. He shakes that feeling, and thinks instead about Sir Talfryn, enthusiastically cataloging the untold, innumerable wonders of life within his swamp. Thinks of Sir Marc, feckless as he traipses clumsily across land he does not respect. He sneers, shaking his head.

“I do not need any more uninvited visitors cavorting around my home and making a mess of things,” he says, voice gone half to snarl, and there is a pause before the two interlopers respond.

“Any…” the human trails off.

“… more?” the moth finishes, her antennae twitching in amusement.

Arum snaps his jaw shut, his frill pressing tight against his neck. A thousand times damn Amaryllis’ siblings.

“How many visitors infest your land, lizard Lord?”

“That is decidedly not your concern, moth.”

“Her name is Tetch,” the human says gently.

“I could not be compelled to care,” Arum snarls. “The both of you, get through the damned portal or I’ll throw you back in the flytrap with my own hands.”

The moth - Tetch - flares her wings wide, hissing, but the human furrows their brow. “I… I am beginning to think that you won’t, actually.”

Arum glares the fragile little creature down for a long, tense moment, but they completely fail to quail under his gaze. The Keep croons a question through the portal, and Arum hisses a sigh, then drops his eyes. “I don’t have time for this,” he mutters. “If you wish to continue wandering the swamp until one of you falls into an errant hole in the murk or another of my numerous traps, you may kill yourselves at your leisure.” He gives an exaggerated bow with bad grace, then turns on his heel. “Keep, take me home.”

The first portal sinks away, and the Keep pulls open a new one in front of Arum.

On the other side of this new portal, however, Amaryllis is half turning, grinning brightly as she catches sight of him.

“Arum! I was just coming… back from…” she trails off as Arum freezes in place. “Uh. Arum?”

Arum stands as still as possible, his hands compulsively at the hilts of his knives though he is unsure when they got there. He sees, just out of the corner of his eye, as the human behind him gives a strange little wave.

“Ah, hello there,” they say, and Arum bristles as he hears the smile in their voice. “I’m Puck, and this is my- well. My monster, Tetch. I believe we’ve already met yours.”

***

“Ooooooooooh, we are going to a wedding!”

“What?” Caroline frowns automatically, turning from her mountain of paperwork - damn the Queen and damn her again - towards her witch. “What are you on about?”

Quanyii hugs a rather absurdly large bee against her chest, stroking the fuzz on its head enthusiastically as she waves a sheet of parchment in the air between herself and the knight. “A wedding, sweets! Looks like my favorite little herbalist is finally tying her boy and her beast down!”

“What?” Caroline says again, her frown deepening. “Where- where did you get that?” She asks, gesturing towards the bee, the parchment, the entire mess.

“Never mind that, babe, that’s boring. It’s much more exciting to think about how many new and interesting friends we’re going to make at this shindig!”

Caroline snatches the sheet from Quanyii’s hand, and the witch pouts at her as she scans over the scrawling handwriting. “This… this is not addressed to us.”

“Oh?” Quanyii tilts her head, the movement too innocent to be anything but false.

“Your name is not Leith.” Caroline levels a glare at Quanyii, who musters a wildly flirtatious look in return. When Caroline doesn’t blink she lowers her shoulder slightly so her sleeve slides down an inch or so. When that doesn’t work, she flutters her eyelashes like a pair of panicked butterflies, and when even that doesn’t move Caroline’s expression, she finally breaks into a pout again.

“Ohhhh, you’re no fun today!”

“You stole a wedding invitation from a gigantic bee.” Caroline says in a growl.

“Don’t be mad,” Quanyii says, her voice almost entirely buried in a whine. “They wanted to invite me. I can feel it. They just didn’t know how!”

Caroline raises an eyebrow. “They… wanted to invite you.”

“They just didn’t know where to send the bumbly girl here!”

“Hm.” Caroline pauses, her lip pulled to the side in a thoughtful grimace as she drums her fingers off her biceps, reading the invitation again. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think the wilting little knight would have the fortitude to actually go through with anything this…”

“Bold?”

“Risky,” she finishes, shooting the witch a glance. “If stray witches can go plucking invitations out of the air.”

“Ohhh, don’t be like that. I told you,” she presses a hand dramatically over her heart. “They want me to come, and that’s why I know about it. These lil gals are actually very clever messenger buggies!”

“I’ll have to take your word for that,” Caroline says, eyeing the bee warily.

“Yes you will.” Quanyii ruffles her sleeves like a preening bird, her nose upturned.

“You will be sending this invitation onward to its intended recipient, now,” Caroline says, a warning in her voice, and Quanyii pouts again, a little harder this time.

“I was going to, you big mean bully. I want to meet the big tough lizard’s little friend, not uninvite him. Obviously.” She pauses, biting her lip and looking up at Caroline through her eyelashes. “Sooooooooo… does this mean you’ll come with me?”

Caroline purses her lips, and gives Quanyii a look to let her know that she is perfectly aware of what the witch is doing. “Fine. Fine. If only to see the look on Sir Damien’s face, I’ll go.”

Caroline, knowing better, presses her hands over her ears just in time to muffle Quanyii’s piercing, joyful shriek.

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #penumbraprideweek2019 #second citadel #rad bouquet #amaryllis of exile #sir damien #lord arum #(if i tagged all the folks in this we'd be here forever alas)#this one is a bit longer than the previous chapters #also- CUTTING IT CLOSE LMAO #MADE IT... BUT BARELY #the rite of movement

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