#Alien Snatch! Records

[revelboo]

Any updates with swindles unfortunate human? I'm still utterly laughing at the improvised "I will lay eggs in you" lie sjdndjdnf

They’re trying to reach an agreement. 18+

Hangman Pt 2

Swindle x Reader

• “What do you mean ‘no?’ Babe, I’m trying to make you a star. Rich and famous.” And himself even richer. Swindle bites back a growl at your little scowl. “Not just Earth famous, intergalactic.” Reaching he tips your chin up with a servo, offering you his best smile. “I can do that for you, but you gotta help me.” Dangling the outfit from the servos of his other hand, he watches you fold your arms. “Would I lie to you, babe?”

• Almost positive he would, you scrunch your nose at him and that ridiculous bit of lace he wants you to wear. Pretty sure that it’s not going to actually cover anything, but also that that’s the point. You’ve seen those fuzzy videos he’s peddling. What he wants is live entertainment. Mainly you. Wearing that. “Yes, you would,” you mutter, but really? It’s not like you have a lot of choice but to go along with it. At least he’s only wanting to record you, not trying to pimp you out to aliens. It definitely could be worse. And he’s not hurt you so far.

• “Such cruelty and after all I’ve done for you? Don’t I feed you? Provide you with lovely things?” Turning, he digs in a bin and comes up with a fistful of jewelry. Watches the hungry way you stare at the gold and glitter. Depositing it near you, he pulls a plush fur coat out of another bin and adds it to his pile of bribes. “Help me out here, babe.” Because you’re his ticket to more shanix than he’d ever imagined. Already has so many patrons on his waiting list eager to see a human in detail.

• Holding up a finger, you crush the luxurious softness of the coat in your fingers. While you don’t really care for fur, it’s warm and probably cost more than your first car. “I’m not fucking any aliens,” you say, chin lifting. “I’m only doing videos.” And he’s turning and walking away to grab a much smaller bin and carrying it over. Suspicious now, you open it as soon as he sets it down. And inhale. “Why would you even have these?” Because this bin seems to have been stolen directly from an adult toy store. You know he’s a bit of a hoarder for anything he can even possibly sell later, but still. Holding up a sealed package, you’re not sure if you’re more horrified and amused.

• “You’re not the only species with a valve, babe,” he says laughing at your expression. “Or the only ones that interface for fun.” Leaning on the desk you’re on, he uses the end of a servo to carefully brush your soft hair away from your face. “You get to play to your little heart’s content, I record it and we both get rich. What do you say? We have a deal?” Because you’re a commodity in high demand out here and he’s the only one with the goods. Again offering you the skimpy little outfit, he watches your shoulders slump as you snatch it from him.

• Crotchless panties. Sheer lace and a feather boa. Eyes closing as you try to gather your strength, you blow out a breath. It’s not like anyone you know is ever going to see this garbage. Or that you’ll ever see them again. This is your life now, just a new possession in Swindle’s hoard of contraband. And as long as you’re making him a profit, you’re not for sale, too. “How famous am I going to be?” You ask as he grins.

Previous

[cc1010fox]

"He's alive..." the medical officer gasped, his breaths stilled by the impossibility right before his eyes.

Sure enough, the trooper, one that was supposed to be dead, was breathing. It was a barely visible rise and fall of his chest, something anyone else would have missed.

"No," came a voice out of frame, a voice matched to Commander Thire with a lift of the the medic's head. The recording caught the ever loyal ARC snatching the helmet off of another medic's head and tampering with its recording software. Ever loyal. Ever loyal to Fox. "He's dead. Do you understand? He's dead." The last thing the first medic recorded was a pointed threat, "And so are you if you make another unfounded claim like that," before his helmet was practically torn off of his head as well.

_

"Damnit, Thire..." Cody bit out as he switched the footage off. "You forgot to have the footage destroyed?"

_

The next recording started with the hurried panting of a non-clone trooper. He ducked behind the alien shrubbery as the commotion in the distance drew nearer. A clone's voice was picked up, but the words were unclear. Looking down, the trooper checked that his blaster was no longer set to stun.

"Deadly force?" The trooper jolted and looked up to find the smirking face of an aged clone, the grey from his temples mixing into the rest of his curls. The scar across the bridge of his nose wrinkled as his expression became more vicious. "The others already tried that." The clone reached down and tore the blaster from the trooper's hands. Fearless.

The recording caught the panicked gasping and whimpering from the soldier, caught how he tried to back away like a coward.

"Dogma, how do we react to deadly force?" the clone asked without turning his head away from his victim. No...his attacker. The troopers were the invaders after all.

Another clone's laughter could be heard nearby, yet out of frame. "With deadly force."

Fox, Cody concluded with absolute certainty, lifted the trooper's own rifle and ended the footage with a bolt through the man's helmet.

_

Cody sighed. Another ally he would have to call his enemy...At least he could get his mind off of having to hunt down Fox by looking into who Dogma was.

_

[ Got this in my head after reading this post by @the-stars-are-warring. Fox doesn't turn his head because he can't. ]

[arbiterlexultionis]

Danny and the Spooks Pt2

This is a continuation of my other post Here

More specifically, this is where I’m dumping my ideas for it that involve crossovers, mostly with DC, as I know that stuff isn’t some peoples cuppa tea, and wanted to make sure it could be viewed and enjoyed by all.

So, I’ve come up with two ways for Danny and the spooks to mix with other fandoms. 1) Danny’s a known entity and (somewhat) trusted ally who is super protective/secretive about the tiny ass town he micromanages and 2) Danny and the ghost issues of Amity are more less unknowns and the hero’s of the verse show up only to be met with a (somewhat) functional crime fighting organization.

I’ll do the first version in this post and the second probably in a different post.

Phantom was one of the founding members of the league, and one of the most mysterious members at that. Although most of them had known about each other and occasionally worked together long before they came together officially 3 years ago to fend of Darkseid and found the league Phatom himself had come out of left field so to speak. Appearing with no warning in his bulky Hazmat suit and barely saying a word for most of the crisis, they didn’t really have any choice but to accept his help regardless of their (Batman’s) skepticism, and that decision to trust him payed out in the end as Phantom, despite being a complete unknown that could stay under the radar at that point, was apparently strong enough to give Supes and Wonder Woman a run for their money. They threw around a lot of theories about the guy, Superman seemed convince he was some type of alien while others thought he was a meta. Batman’s theory of choice was that he was a time traveler form the future with advanced nano technology, using cave paintings and historical records from across the globe that duplicated him as evidence. Aquaman and Dr. Fate think he’s some type of lord of order or God, with a capital G, because there was apparently some strikingly similar being who fought a Chaos deity to try and stop Atlantis from sinking.

But every attempt to actually investigate has ended “inconclusively”, as after Batman finally tracked down which town Phantom watched over he only got a few steps in before he got gently grabbed buy the cape and flew several states away like a misbehaving kitten getting grabbed by the scruff. Flash got the farthest in of anyone, sprinting in and getting about a block in before just appearing in Canada with sticky note attached to his forehead reading “Please stop stalking my grandson. :-) -CW.”

So when they were all in a meeting discussing where to keep the young justice team they were all surprised, to say the least, when Phantom offered to take them in and look after them Inside of Amity. Apparently(supposedly) the main reason he keeps everyone so far away from his town is because no one in the league has the experience and skill set necessary to properly combat his rouges, and gaining the experience and skill would probably include several mind control/body snatching/cloning/imposters/potential world endangering events and that just wouldn’t be worth the risk, especially with all of that resulting in their own rouges getting into contact with his, a recipe for one shitty weekend as he put it. But a little less than a week ago Luther used an intermediary to hire one of phantoms rouges to hunt Superman, which explains the bandage on Superman’s side. So now that the cats out of the bag Phantom want to make the kitty purr and prepare the rest of the heroics community for “the complete and utter nonsensical shenanaganery that he’s stuck dealing with” and The Team seems like a good opportunity for it.

I envision this whole meeting probably being told from Flash’s point of view, as he’s smart and goofy enough for some good humor and exposition but I guess it works for anyone. The Young Justice team wind up in mount justice while the main base of the Spooks, called the Grave or something else suitably on brand, is prepared just long enough to get bored and go rescue Superboy. Then the whole team and some of the justice league step foot into Amity for the first time, and then get a whole PowerPoint presentation explaining the town and its BS and are just Shook when they find out that Phantoms not some meta or alien or time traveling genius inventor but just some dead dude.

The team essentially gets fast tracked through the training for Spooks to make sure there up to snuff and begin patrolling and stuff. At first Superboy just can’t handle working in the R.I.P.D. and then he finds a ghost who whole shtick is “I need to punch shit”, which bridges the gap between the fighting he knows and the negotiations he doesn’t and helps him learn more about diplomacy and chill out, can’t decided if I want the ghost in question to be a boxer, sumo wrestler or really over the top westler.

As practice living a double life and going under cover they all have to get jobs and be Normal, but they all suck at being Normal. It just straight up doesn’t cross Superboy mind that normal people can’t use motorcycles to beat up convenience store robbers. At first he goes for the car, stops and goes wait a second that’s not something normal people can do and I’m Normal, so he picks up a Harley like “Yep, this is completely average amount of strength.”

Wally’s working in the kitchen of a restaurant and keeps accidentally using his super speed. Not enough to glow or spark, but more than enough for people to freak out. But he’s doing the work of 4 people which means management need 3 less people to pay so they just let him do his thing.

Robins such a gremlin that people think he’s straight up a child ghost very poorly disguising himself as a human child, using rafters and vents as short cuts with the justification “it’s not weird if they don’t see me do it” which makes it seem like he’s using invisibility, intangibility and teleportation to get around. He’s so quite when he walks that people come to the conclusion that he’s forgetting to walk and just floating places and/or trying to look like he’s walking like a Perfectly Normal Human Child but not actually making contact with the ground on accident.

All the locals see all this stuff and just go “Kids are kids, ghost, human or ecto-contaminated to hell and back.” And all make a group effort to hide them from the Fentons and GIW. The team, which is actively trying to investigate both groups, becomes convinced that the people they work for are in cahoots with the GIW and hiding their activities, but every time they switch jobs it takes like, a week for the GIW to get to them again(for them to go “oh poor children” and try and keep them safe).

It doesn’t help that the first friend they made in town is a scrawny little black haired blue eyed twink that they saw beat a mothafucka with another mothafucka in an alleyway on the first day of class, constantly pulls off what should be nearly impossible acts and disappears without a trace, further twisting their idea of what is within normal human limits. (They saw Danny fighting Skulker in human form at 3am in the Nasty burger parking lot because he was to lazy to shift forms, and they use the fact that the kid that can nonchalantly throw hands with a nine foot tall T9000 knock off as an excuse to get away with stuff. “Mr. I-fight-death-bots-with-my-bare-hands is the weakling at the bottom of the food chain, so me being able to do this it Normal. Probably.”)

Just a few ideas I had for this, will probably post more later. Drink some water and chill, peace out.

[myarmsaretoolong]

It took less than a week for the world to tear itself apart. For everything to turn on its head. For governments across the world to lose whatever trust they might have garnered. One week of fear and panic and terror, and of people promising it would be alright, just wait. Just wait because a doctor is on the way. A man in a blue box is coming–he always comes!–and he’ll put it right.

One week for Cardiff to gain a hole in its heart.

They never even got a real name for it. The news only called it the 456, some sort of government codename for the creature that tried to take their children from them.

Once the immediate threat was over, once those who stood up to the army when they raided houses and snatched children from their parents arms were processed and released without charge, information started leaking. Information that implied the government had a far bigger role with 456 than they let on. The government continued to deny it, which is when videos started emerging.

Meetings, top secret meetings where they discussed which children were disposable and made sure their own were safe and sound, played out on news channels across the country. Britain sat in horror as they watched, unable to believe what it was they were hearing. And once the leaks started, they poured.

Documents told of contracted killings, cover-ups from decades ago. Whispers of the name Torchwood became commonplace not just in Cardiff but across the country. 

Cardiff, where strange goings on were a part of everyday life. Where more people than anywhere else had tales of his man and his box. Where people had gaps in their memories and recollections of screams and growls they never remembered hearing. Cardiff, where the explosion that ripped apart the Plass suddenly had a firm reason behind it.

And then another video appeared, this one grainier than the rest. Like a recording of a recording, distant and blurred. The screen was split in two. One side showed a tank pumped full of smoke, vaguely glowing blue. The other side showed two men. Two men who stood up to the 456, told it that they wouldn’t give up a child–not one, single child–that they would fight until their last breath if it meant keeping them safe.

Two men who did just that. Two men who stood their ground when the rest of the building fled. The image of them splayed out on the floor, holding each other, fronted every paper, every news channel.

The Thames House incident was finally explained in full, all those lives lost. Bodies piled at the sealed doors.

One of the men was instantly recognisable from his coat alone. Jack Harkness who called himself Captain but never had the story to back it up, well known around Cardiff. He flirted with me once, one person said over a pint in a pub, and me, came the reply. They laughed, raised their glasses in honour.

A question mark hung over Jack. Everyone heard what he said to the other man. I can survive anything. In a world where aliens got a buzz of off children, a man who could survive that virus didn’t sound impossible. 

Out of everyone, it was the boy who’d worked at Jubilee Pizza after he left school who recognised the second man grainy, pixellated figure. Ianto Jones. The man who sat at the desk at the quay’s information centre and laughed when the delivery boy said he had pizzas for Torchwood. A joke his office liked to play, he’d explain. Get people thinking he was some kind of spy or something. The delivery boy would laugh too, laugh at the ridiculousness of this man being anything more than a sit-about pen-pusher.

He went out and told anyone who would listen. It’s Ianto Jones, to his mates in the pub, that bloke from the quay. Yeah, that’s the one. It is! See, look at the video, here.

The name spread through Cardiff like wildfire, and then beyond. Ianto Jones, one of the only people brave enough to stand up to the demands of the 456 and say no. Overnight, the forgotten information desk destroyed in the Plass explosion turned into a shrine. Flowers and cards and candles appeared. A vigil was held. People came from across the country–across the world–to thank the man, and perhaps men, that laid down their lives for the sake of the world’s children.

The hole at Cardiff’s heart became something else. The Plass was cleared up, the water tower rebuilt, and the shrine would stay for as long as there were people on Earth to visit it. The memory of Ianto Jones would be kept at the heart of the city forever.

He may not have had a box, might not have been a doctor. Might not have even been the person to stop the 456 but that didn’t matter. Not in the end. Because he was one of the only people who tried while those in power rolled over and showed their bellies. He stood up for what was right and what was good when no one else would.

It’s said if you walk the quay at night that you may just see a woman stood alongside a man with a recognisable coat. That she may lean her head on his arm, and he may give her hand a tight squeeze. And that you might catch the faint sound of tears mixed with soft laughter.

It's even said, in the far-off future, that the same man in the same coat still visits. Alone, now, as he was destined to be. He presses his fingers to his lips, then to the shrine–still meticulously maintained even though memory of the man and the events are long since forgotten–and tells him it was good.

[rowiewritesstuff]

Hallo! Yandere Poly TFP Soundwave and Shockwave Romantic Pls?

TFP Yandere Poly Shockwave and Soundwave X Reader

whoops much longer than I meant it to be-

You had been working with the Decepticons for some time. You knew that they despised humans, but they at least respected you- unlike a lot of people on Earth. 

You often had a hard time expressing your emotions and often came off rude or cold. You were actually a very emotional and caring person- but no one ever tried to get past your cold-seeming exterior. That is, until you met Soundwave.

He was trying to hack into your computers because the Vehicons believed you had something on the Autobots. Soundwave was shocked when he couldn’t hack into your computers remotely, so he went to attempt in person. 

You walked into your huge garage to see him standing there. He noticed you immediately and snatched you up off of the ground. Instead of the fear he expected, he was met with a blank stare. He tilted his head curiously at you.

“Yeah, good luck hacking that buddy. You’re not the first to try and you won’t be the last.” 

Soundwave felt that his pride was threatened so he held onto you as he continued his work. He was instantly frustrated to find that you were right- he couldn’t get in. Somehow, this small human’s technology and code bested his Cybertronians. He placed you on the ground and pointed at the computer.

“What are you looking for?” You popped the gum in your mouth. Soundwave showed pictures of the Autobots and their alt-modes. “Oh. Those guys. Yeah, I don’t have much on them. I don’t care enough to bother.” 

Normally you humans were so nosy- the amount of humans he has had to kill being in the hundreds. He watched as you typed in a few things that he recorded for future use. You pulled up the few images on the Autobots.

“There. You’re free to use the files, but make sure to shut the door behind yourself, thanks.”

He was dumbfounded as you walked back through your garage door to the kitchen. 

When Soundwave went back to the Nemesis, he couldn’t stop thinking of you. While he always got his work done on time, Megatron still noticed his distracted state. 

“Soundwave, has something been bothering you?” The silent mech shook his head only to be met with a scowl. “I’ve known you for over six million stellar cycles. You cannot lie to me.”

Soundwave’s shoulders slumped as he replayed the interaction between the two of you. “You couldn’t access it?” Megatron looked on with a mix of curiosity and confusion. “That’s… unusual.”

Soundwave looked down in shame. He was supposed to be the one who could get into anything. The one who was Megatron’s most trusted and reliable ally. 

“Bring me this human.” Megatron ordered. 

Shockwave heard about the human through the ‘grapevine’. He was ordered to make arrangements for the human’s stay. He did so, although begrudgingly. He’d much rather have been working on the Predacon Project.

It was a few days later when Soundwave came to grab you. You were watering your garden as he transformed in front of you. You looked up again at him with the same expression you had when you first met. Instead of just snatching you up, he offered you a hand which you stepped quickly onto. The next thing you knew you were on a giant alien spacecraft. 

“So you’re the infamous human that beat Soundwave’s hacking skills.” Megatron looked at you from your position on Soundwave’s shoulder.

“I guess so. I didn’t think it was a big deal.” 

Megatron studied the straight-to-the-point human. You were unusual-even by his standards. “How would you like a place among our ranks?” Megatron offered. 

“I mean, yeah I guess. I’m not doing anything after 3PM everyday anyway.”

With that, you began visiting the Nemesis everyday from 3PM-12AM. You would often sleep on the Nemesis when you got your work done early- and Megatron couldn’t be more pleased with you as you strengthened their encryptions and even listened in on the Autobot’s transmissions. 

Soundwave and you had become closer too, with him making it a point to ferry you to and from work everyday. Whenever anyone badmouthed you or threatened you he was there to loom over them threateningly.

Shockwave kept hearing of you, and how ‘helpful and intelligent’ you were from Megatron and some Vehicons. He was irritated- how could anyone from your species be that useful? He’d studied and experimented on many humans, and all had base intelligence of a primitive species. He had eventually had enough, and stormed in to see what the fuss was all about. 

You were sitting at your computer that had been so graciously gifted to you by Megatron when you heard the door slide open. “Soundwave, can you grab me that big USB you gave me? I wanted to do a data transfer.”

“A data transfer?” Shockwave echoed. You turned to him with a nod.

“Yeah. I updated all this set of files with stronger encryption.” Shockwave looked over to your computer. He was impressed. For a human, you were pretty interesting. You both had eventually grown a mutual respect for each other over science. You would often banter back and forth, when something he had said made you laugh. 

Hearing your laugh shocked both Shockwave and Soundwave who was watching through the cameras. That sound was like music to their ears and they tried to get you to laugh more. Whenever they managed to get you to laugh, Soundwave would secretly record it.

Soundwave and Shockwave (who hated each other even before you came into the picture) began competing to see who could make you laugh more.

Over the course of a few months, you went through all of their files and put heavy encryption on everything. You also made them a code that would do it for them, and another code that could pick up on transmissions. You informed Megatron that you’d be going back to your normal schedule, but he could call on you anytime that he needed you. 

Because he knew that you were a person of your word and you had more than proven your loyalty, you were allowed that privilege of leaving until he yet again called upon you. He assured you that when he conquered Earth, you would be given a life of luxury. You figured you’d see Shockwave and Soundwave again, so you hadn’t bothered saying goodbye.

Shockwave and Soundwave found out when they were on the bridge together with Megatron. Megatron had offhandedly brought it up, and both of them looked at him in shock.

“My lord, is that wise?” Shockwave raced his words out. “The autobots could capture them.”

Megatron looked at Shockwave. “You seem almost concerned, Shockwave.” He noticed Soundwave’s tentacles swaying- something he often did in irritation. “Ah, I see. You both want the human. Because you are both my most loyal Decepticons, I’ll allow it- but hear this. No harm can come to this human. They may have future use.” 

When Megatron waved them off, Soundwave left to get you while Shockwave made small repairs to your living space. You weren’t that shocked to see Soundwave there, except when he grabbed you without your consent. You were pretty much quiet the entire trip back to the Nemesis where Shockwave explained you’d be staying with them indefinitely. 

“You know you’re going to have to buy me food, clothes, and toiletries, right?” 

“We have more than enough.” Shockwave gestured to the semi-trucks that had been stolen. 

You shrugged.  “Alright, at least I don’t have to go to work anymore.”

And you’ll never have to do any job for a human ever again- because you were never leaving this ship. Not that you wanted to. Shockwave and Soundwave got you anything you wanted.

[jiubilant]

cw: horror elements

He’d been a scrib of three, sticky-fingered and clinging to his sister’s skirts like an anther-burr, when first he saw a war-wasp of the Dres. In less than seven years they’d be extinct: their cliff-hives burnt, their grubs smeared across singed flagstones or speared wriggling on An-Xileel pikes. But it had been a bright morning—the dust had glittered in the air like motes of kanet, like the specks the goldsmiths blow off their tables—and the messenger from Bal Foy had circled his glorious mount three times above the marketplace, like a victorious chap’thil, before landing her in the middle of the street.

“Give her a pat,” he’d said, laughing, to the children clustering round—and the adults, too, a few merchants and house-servants whose stern faces broke with smiles. “She’s polite, my Khes.”

He ran, that scrib of three—not towards the great wasp grooming her feelers in that circle of hands, as oblivious to her admirers’ attentions as Benitah, but to a basket of comberries abandoned at a fruit-seller’s stall. The first fistful he stuffed in his mouth. The second he stretched above his head, high as he could reach.

“Khes!” he’d called, his voice shrill and garbled with fruit. He remembers the moment even now. Juice dribbling down his wrist. Dust in his throat. His little heart surging upward with that cry, as if on jeweled wings. “Khes!”

The wasp turned her alien head, broad and shining as a bonemold shield. Her feelers whiskered over him. Out flicked her wings once, twice: sheer and strong as wevet, fluted like stained glass into a thousand fiery panes.

“Hold your hand out flat, hla!” the messenger called.

He did. The mouthparts that could crush a Nordling breastplate descended to meet it. Delicately, like a lady reaching into a bowl with finger and thumb, the wasp took a single berry from his palm.

* * *

He wakes in his cold dormitory cell feeling stiff, sore, and improbably cheerful. Mzulft and its horrors, the Synod included, are behind him; it’s up to Mirabelle, now, to decide what to do with what they’ve learned. A magic staff in Hjaalmarch—perhaps the first item of import, he thinks with amusement, to ever come out of Hjaalmarch. And the Thalmor know nothing about it. And he’s rising late from a bed, not a bedroll, with the fading idea that he’d dreamed something pleasant.

“She’s stung me to the heart,” he sings in soft Velothis over his washbasin, scraping off the journey’s stubble with his shaving-knife. The ancient song comes to him in snatches, like the dream. “She’s stung me, jewel of the sky, armored queen of the valleys of the Shir”—someone raps on his door, probably one of the prentices with a question about a translation, and he takes some smiling liberties with the next line—“one moment, per favore, s'il vous plaît—”

“Break it down,” says a curt voice.

The door crashes open. He makes a startled, absurd swipe with his shaving-knife at the first of the intruders—black robes, beaky buttons that glint gold in the firelight—before a burst of magic shivers through him like heat-lightning. He hears a thump. Himself, he realizes with belated surprise, hitting the chilly floor.

“Is he immobilized?” the voice asks pleasantly.

A chorus of subordinate voices, at least three: “Yes, Secretary.”

They’ve never gone this far, thinks the man on the floor, struggling to budge limbs that have gone rigid and heavy as kedge-anchors. Something’s emboldened them at last. A heavy-gloved hand dips into the neck of his nightshirt and fishes out his Company chain.

“Justiciar Ancano was right!” the young Dominion agent attached to the hand exclaims. He dangles the pendant in the light. “East Empire Company. A factor’s clerk. A pleasure, Master”—he squints at the inscription on the copper, above the tarnished ship—“Ramo, to properly make your acquaintance.”

That’s right, the clerk thinks. They’d bungled his name on the thing. Probably in the records, too. A laugh escapes his spell-sealed lips as a stifled huff.

“Kick him,” the pleasant voice suggests. “Oh, cousin. To scribble and scrape for the mayfly enterprises of men!”

Someone does kick him. He finds himself facedown on the hearth, seeing nothing, hearing creaks and thumps and curses as the Thalmor toss his room. One rummages through his sea-chest, takes something out, slams it. His ewer shatters. Floorstones scrape in protest as they’re pried up; the thieves’ Altmeri chatter grows excited, then. They must have found his papers. The clerk scrabbles through his mind for what little Altmeris he knows—

“Closer to the fire,” says the pleasant one in Cyrod, perhaps for his benefit. The clerk’s heart petrifies like his limbs. “He fell. A terrible accident. Put his cane—yes, there. As if he’d been trying to reach it.”

Someone drags him closer to the hearth. Flings his arm into it like a peat-brick. The heat bakes his hand. “I can seal his heart-valves to be sure—”

“Don’t be a fool,” snaps the pleasant one. “That shrieking cat who heads up Restoration would notice. Let us defer, out of respect for our cousin, to Velothi custom—”

The click of the closing door.

The silence.

He can breathe, the clerk thinks, breathing fast. He can blink. Involuntary motions, then, are not suppressed by the spell—only those that he wills. Sitting up. Crying out. Smothering the fire nibbling, with increasing interest, at his sleeve.

It was once said of the war-wasps of the Dres, he recalls with faint amusement, that the venom of their stings worked much the same. One was advised, perhaps as a way to bide one’s time before the end, to battle the enervation in increments: try wriggling a finger. A toe.

Something pops in the fire. The cell begins to smell of smoke and singed hair. He wonders whether the jerk of a limb exposed to flame, to that sharp, betraying sting, is involuntary—no, it seems not. The pain scourges his arm, his ear, the side of his head.

A finger, he thinks, concentrating all his awareness of his body into the palm of his lifeless hand. A toe. A terrible accident, they’ll say when they find him. Don’t think it. Hold your hand out flat, hla—

A strained rap on the door. “Magister?”

Relief crashes through him where the magic holds him fast. His thumb twitches free of the spell. It makes less noise than a crumb of peat shifting in the hearth.

“Magister,” calls the voice, dear and strangely small, “the—the Master Wizard, she wants you in the quadrangle—”

“Brelyna,” a familiar brogue interrupts, “J’zargo does not think he’s in.”

Her voice rises nearly to a wail. “Where is he, then—”

They’re going, the clerk thinks, gripped by a panic more searing than the flames climbing his sleeve. His hand jerks. It hits his cane, which the Thalmor had propped so tellingly on the fireplace-jamb.

The cane wobbles. He holds his breath.

Then, with a magnificent scrape, it clatters to the floor.

A silence.

“Is it unlocked?” asks Brelyna.

The creak of the door. A gasp. The panicked squeak of boots. Then someone throws the contents of the washbasin on him: a shocking blue chill, like a plunge in pack ice. He breathes out. His shaving-knife swirls past his head on a runnel of suds.

“Turn him over.” J’zargo’s voice, sharp as claws. “Is he dead?”

“I don’t think so.” Magic crackles in the air above his head. “I, I think he’s—didn’t Master Neloren show us how to dispel this? Let me try—”

Something heavy and sluggish evaporates from the clerk's bones. He stirs with some difficulty, blinking soap from his eyes, and finds himself in a circle of worried hands: J’zargo lifting his head, Onmund buffeting the last of the fire, Brelyna slapping his ridiculous half-shaved face.

“Hlai,” he rasps, laughing, trying to raise his arms to fend them off. They’ll beat him to death. Ai, a terrible accident. “Hlai, I’m not a rug—”

“You look a rug,” snaps Onmund, terse as ever. The clerk recalls that he’s wearing the nightshirt patterned with fleurs. “What happened? Who spelled you?”

The less they know, the better. The clerk flexes his hands, then his face, breathing with great care around the boot-shaped ache in his side. “Shouldn’t you”—the fire’s ghost gnaws his arm when he bends it, and he winces—“be in class?”

“In class?” Onmund sits him up so roughly that they nearly knock heads. The boy’s hands, the clerk realizes with a start, are shaking. “We were in class. Don’t you know what’s happening outside?”

Brelyna sits back in the mess of hearth-ash and washwater, rubbing her crumpling face with both hands. Her voice wavers like a shrill flute. “I thought you were dead, too.”

“Too?” The clerk, blistered and dripping, stares at his pupils. “Who’s dead?”

A muscle jumps in Onmund’s ashen face. J’zargo flattens his ears and looks away. It’s Brelyna, choking on overwhelmed tears, who answers.

“The Archmage,” she sobs. Outside, muffled by the dormitory walls, a scream pitches above the cries of gulls. “The Archmage.”

[eremji]

WIP Wednesday

Messing around with some fun little writing exercise snippets for the #TF Mecha AU. This was definitely just an excuse to try writing something action-heavy, since so many of my other current WIPs are so scenic and talky.

The Escaflowne -> Gundam -> Evangelion -> Pac Rim -> Transformers pipeline has really done it for me over the last few decades and I cannot stop writing Big Machines.

Human!Mechanic Ratchet tickles something in my brain. I love putting men in their 40s with back pain in Situations and Predicaments. My working take is he's still working for an organization he hates, but he's too old for this shit, he resents his job, and is perfectly set up to have an eventual midlife crisis over wanting to date his Bugatti a robot an alien.

///

“How close?” Ratchet calls down at the pilot scaling the massive bot closest to his workstation. He doesn’t know her name, but her bot is Strika, one of the first manufactured models they bought from the Slovenian engineering program. The woman isn’t Strika’s original pilot.

“Half mile, incoming,” she shouts back, hauling herself upwards hand over hand with no harness, corded muscles flexing. “Two minutes.”

Direct contact. He can't just hide in his office and wait for this one to blow over. Fuck. Ratchet kicks his kit closed and crams the prototype knee assembly into an empty storage locker, hoping no one goes digging during the attack. He yanks on the buckles of his climbing harness, running through the safety check at record pace, then seizes one of the rapid descent hooks and flings himself into a three story drop with nothing but a hand brake and blind faith in his equipment.

Ratchet’s teeth rattle painfully as his feet hit the concrete, even though he takes the impact exactly like he's practiced a hundred times – the emergency abseil drills always have padded mats at the bottom and his brain isn’t ready for the reality of hitting hard concrete. He doesn’t go down on his ass, but a spasm of agony jolts up through his hips and spine and he has to stop to catch his breath, queasy.

The massive loading bay doors are already open by the time he recovers, twenty critical seconds of prep lost while the piloted bots are being disgorged into the sheeting rain. He unhooks from the line and snatches one of the combat kits off the storage rack. Three other mechanics are shouldering their repair rigs, already belted into their body armor.

Ratchet hauls on the plate carrier and buckles it with the strong feeling he's going to fucking die. He crams his helmet over his sweaty hair anyways, leaving the visor up. It's too dark and wet outside and the cheap polycarb fogs up no matter how many times they treat it. The repair pack goes on last, weighing him down, heavy coils of electrical patch cabling slung over his shoulder.

He’s out in the rain before he’s ready. His radio picks up a burst of feedback. There’s an unmistakable thunderclap report of a defense missile striking its target, followed by an ear-splitting roar that drowns out all other sound. The Quintesson is either way closer or way larger than he expects and he nearly climbs out of his skin with fear.

Ratchet turns just in time to catch the massive shape backlit against the storm-black sky, ten stories of nightmare. The Quintesson’s energy barrier flashes in a dozen places, incoming weapons fire flickering like red lightning over the glassy surface. It's covered in rain-wet armor plates and undulating tentacles, the massive shark-like mouth already filled with a twisted, sparking heap of metal. Spotlights blink out as the Quintesson takes out one of the substations, plunging everything into darkness.

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

hello hello! love your fics!!!

🌤️ for the ask game please? :D

Thank you so much!!! ☺️ Okay these aren't exactly dialogue, but I'm in a sharing mood lol. This first one is from my Get Away Driver AU.

__________

"Thank you for helping us." The other person's voice is female, and sounds almost familiar to Kara. "We've been suspecting that Lex Corp has been experimenting on aliens for some time now, but we've never had the proof. And an extraction would have been next to impossible with all the red tape. You saved her life, Lena. She's going to be okay now, thanks to you.”

"Aren't you forgetting someone, Director Danvers?" Maggie slinks out of the driver's seat with a smirk.

"Maggie?" There's a cough and a splutter from outside the car. At the same time, Kara nearly cracks her neck straining to look out her window.

"Danvers?" Kara scrambles to get out of the car. "Alex??”

"Kara??" Her sister's shocked face, nearly as red as her hair, pops up from behind Lena. "What the hell? Luthor, you dragged my sister into this?”

Both Kara and Lena raise their voices at the same time.

"Your sister—??"

"...Luthor?"

From her perch against the driver's side door, Maggie's snickers, her amused gaze bouncing like a tennis ball between all three of them. She looks like she's ready to pull out some popcorn and watch the show.

"Now this just got more interesting.”

____________

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____________

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This 2nd one is not from a WIP so much as a post finale crack fic idea, where Lena and Andrea were friends with another girl from boarding school named Di, who comes over for a visit. This is Di:

Kara has seen soft Lena, but never loose-limbed, loose-lipped Lena who laughs more freely as she and "Di" and "Andy" recall old memories of things Kara was never a part of and never knew.

"Remember when we snuck out that one weekend and got your tramp stamp?"

"Oh, my God, don't remind me!"

"Sister Margaret almost found out because you were making this weird face the whole week!"

"I was in pain! That was my first tattoo!"

First? Just how many tattoos does Lena have? It takes everything in Kara not to use her x-ray vision to find out.

At some point during the evening, Di produces a joint with a twinkle in her eye. "You've never seen Lena high before, have you?"

Lena's eyes widen. "Oh, no. No no no."

Di's smile is sweet and all trouble as she turns to the rest of the group. "You'll love her. She's lovely when she's high."

Alex, Kelly and Nia laugh, but Lena shakes her head. "I get weird when I'm high."

"You get loose when you're high." Di points a finger at her. "And trust me, baby, you need to get loose. You're wound so tight, you're like Sister Agatha before Parents Day."

Kara interjects with a huff. "I don't think Lena should do anything she doesn't want to do."

And Kara glares at Di, a pout forming on her face. But Di ignores her and turns her big, wide eyes on Lena "Please, sweetheart. Pleeease?"

"Fine!" Lena's always been a sucker for a sweet blonde. She sighs and rolls her eyes with a laugh. "Unfair. You know I never could say no to you."

Kara thinks Di is just gonna pass Lena a joint, but instead, Di takes the joint she's been smoking out of her mouth, presses a kiss to the end of it and holds it up to Lena's face. To Kara's surprise, Lena leans forward and lets Di place the joint on her own lips.

Kara's face heats up as she watches Lena's lips wrap around the spot where Di had kissed it, and she feels distinctly uncomfortable. She wants to snatch the joint away and stamp it out with her foot.

Except she doesn't, because Lena does get progressively more relaxed the more she inhales, and it is nice to see Lena unwind, especially after the tough week she's had.

They get to talking about their teenage experiences, and even Alex and Nia and Kelly chime in. And at one point, Di asks Lena if she still has the old records they used to play, and insists that they play old 70's female rock on Lena's turntable (since when did Lena have a turntable? Kara didn't even know she had one).

Andrea pipes up. "This reminds me so much of those weekend afternoons when we used to play this in our room. You used to dance around to this song in Di’s sweater, Lena, you remember that?"

Lena’s cheeks turn bright red.

And Di jumps up. "Oh, my God, do you still have it?"

Lena rolls her eyes. "No!"

Di cackles in laughter "Liar! I'm gonna look in your closet, and if you still have it, you have to put it on!"

Andrea grins evilly. "And! You have to do it just like you used to!"

"Andy! I'm not gonna dance around in my underwear and a sweater. We're not fifteen anymore."

Kara chokes on her beer and her brain blanks out. Lena used to dance around in her underwear? Lena Luthor? Her best friend?

"Nope, that's the rules."

Lena keeps protesting, but even Alex gets in on it. "Nope, I wanna see this too, Luthor. What is this you guys are talking about?"

"I found it!" Di yells from Lena's closet. Kara is fuming that she just roots around Lena's things like she owns them.

She emerges, throwing a bulky sweater at Lena. 

"This is the ugliest thing I've ever owned."

"Shut up and pay up, Lena. Put it on."

"That was Di's old sweater. Lena kept stealing it from her when we were kids, and whenever she got high, Lena would strip to her panties and dance around in that sweater."

Both Kara and Alex simultaneously choke on their drinks. "Oh my GOD!"

[mgnifique-tion]

— still a hero.

summary || `` trapped in the worst earth to ever exist, the scientist finds herself in a confession made by the dark speedster. ``

pairing: headcanon–blitzkrieg!barry x fem!scientist!reader song recommendation: innocent (taylor swift) lowercase is intended…

— themes and warning/s: fluff, enemies to lovers-ish, swearing (?), suggestive for a moment (but not really?), comfort, mentions nazis, mentions death (nobody dies though), and a bit angsty

— a/n: actually, i have absolutely no knowledge of comic!blitzkrieg but ever since i found out that this character was cut out of crisis on earth-x (alleged..? so not sure), i knew i had to write about angsty barry with a different flavor and storyline… did i nail it? did i nail it better than the cw– anywho, enjoy! (i also write for k-pop on my main account so if you’re into that, follow @mgnifiqueyoo ^^)

[ total words: 3.3k ]

support me on ko-fi! ☕

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

alright.

here's the so-called thing: it's been weeks since the nazi in the black suit stopped the führer from executing you and you just couldn't stop thinking about it. 

you were from earth-1, a curious scientist who had gone to lengths to explore the multiverse and it just so happened that you landed on this one. i mean, what's wrong with living on an earth where the nazis won? haha, everything.

everything's seriously fucked up.

“hey!” the speedster was aggressive but not in a way that you'd expect as you stood there in the middle of a red 'x' symbol on the cemented ground, ready to be shot with one of those arrows that killed the innocents who chose not to conform. you opened your eyes to see that the hooded führer, leader of the entire world, was even startled by how the black streak was stopping him from ending your final breaths. “i know this is for the fatherland but she’s done nothing. she's not the one who stole the samples from us. you've got the wrong girl.” 

the führer, an awful version of the star city mayor, oliver queen, lowered his bow and you were just mind-blown that he'd even take it into consideration. 

“are you sure about this? because i’ll put an arrow in your eye if we're both wrong.” he taunted through gritted teeth as the speedster ran towards him, stopping right in front of him. he was so fast that you couldn't even tell if he was teleporting or running. 

he is the fastest man alive after all.

“oh, right. i'm sure,” the masked accomplice answered with a chuckle, later placing his hands behind his head as if this was all a game to him. “and also, i can easily kill you right now but i wouldn't do that since i'm telling you the truth.”

“good point.” the archer responded, breathing in as he turned around to face his other men, who had now lowered their guns as well while his kryptonian wife squinted her eyes, quite disgusted.

“we're done here. she's in blitzkreig's hands,” he told her, which almost made her feel nauseous. — she anticipated your death the most but that's not even the weirdest part about her; she's literally an alien. “she's of no importance anyway.”

and somehow, that brought you here; you're now in the headquarters of those nazis, waiting for the speedster to show up. why? because he ridiculously called you in the middle of the night and you think that it's an emergency.

oh, right. you're his speed mentor these days. that's why he did that.

“where is he?” you mutter in almost a whisper, bouncing your leg furiously as the heel of your shoe tapped the floor's tiles. time is ticking and you're getting anxious. what if this is a trap, right? that could get you killed.

but what if it isn't? then, something else must be up. 

a familiar gust of wind strikes into the room, even snatching your wrist watch away as he checks the time himself. “i'm not too late, am i?” he asks in a joking manner as you can't help but let out a sigh, trying to keep your patience together. for the record, you thought he was getting killed and for some reason, you kind of wished that something as serious as that was actually happening instead. 

“... was there even an emergency?” you question, your brows already knitting lower as he lets out a chuckle. “so, there's no emergency,” you utter, still trying your best not to say anything that'd annoy him – which would later convince him to turn you to the führer or just kill you himself. “great. that's understandable.”

the strange meta laughs even louder, later looking down at you with his bottom lip bitten by himself as if he'd been viewing you differently.

“don't sulk about it, doc. remember, you signed up for this,” he tells you to quit thinking about it as a bad thing, tilting his head to the side. you could just see it in his eyes – the desire to annoy you in that high chair you're sitting on. “would you rather be an earth-1 fugitive or be a free man- well, woman, on this earth? plus, you're my property anyway. you've already gotten so many privileges with just that.”

he's smug, unserious, and unbelievably so overconfident that even as bad as siren-x wanted to replace him – but mainly because of her feelings for the one and only führer but let's not dive into that love triangle between an alien, a meta, and the jacked apple of their eye.

“but i do have a problem… surprisingly.”

you raise both of your eyebrows, intrigued by how his mood shifted. you never expected the blitzkrieg, killer speedster faster than thawne, to consult you about a problem. he's never had them before and it just shows how bothered he is by this so-called problem.

so, what is it?

“are you… running differently?” the question almost sounded like a joke to him if it weren't for that genuine look on his face. the speedster crosses his arms, slightly puckering his lower lip out while he's obviously frowning at you through that mask. it's hard to make out what his face actually looks like but for some reason, you can read him so well.

but then, he lets out a quiet snicker. “no, that's a shit guess... guess again.” he was eager to let you find out the reason yourself that you just spent a few seconds (fifteen or so?) thinking of a possible answer.

and when you looked back up at him, you shake your head, causing him to roll his eyes, annoyed again. “guess again- come on, you’re not an idiot. if you were, then i would’ve let you get killed.”

“i literally don’t know. i’m sorry.” you apologize – well, more like forced to do so – as he slouches his shoulders in disappointment. he just couldn’t believe that it’s hopeless for you to know what his problem was!

even though he was being totally vague and unreasonable at this point, he knew you knew him in a different way; in a way that you knew what he’s like even without knowing the face behind the mask. 

so it just surprised him that you had no idea what he’s talking about.

he takes in a deep breath, readying himself to tell you the issue; the main reason why you’re here in the lab at three o’clock in the morning all by yourself and… him, of course.

“i can’t sleep and i don’t know why… this is my first time, alright? don’t judge,” he blurts out, the confidence stripping away little by little as you take a moment to understand what he’s telling you. is he not joking with you? that’s a new thing.

he’s always so fond of ruining your days whenever you come around to work at the laboratory but he seems so different now. way too solemn for you to think he’s even joking at this very moment. 

“... you can’t sleep well, is that why you called me here at 3 am?” 

and shockingly, he nods right away, determined to learn more about his ongoing problem. “yes and god, it’s horrible. everytime i close my eyes, i keep on thinking about something else and the next thing, my mind’s all about her.” blitzkrieg runs his mouth almost faster than he could do with his own legs that he doesn’t even realize that he let an important and rather private detail slip. 

her

who was she?

“... her?” you ask, watching how his already dilated eyes almost jump out of its sockets, terrified to find out that you heard him say those things hilariously clear. in panic, the wrist watch he snatched from you drops from his grip, resulting in him looking down to see what he’s done.

“is she an ex-girlfriend?” you continued to ask him, not letting the key part of his sleeping problem get ignored as you find yourself getting even more interested.

“um… no, she isn’t. not an ex or anything,” he answers truthfully, the unknown awkward side of him taking over his voice as he later picks up the wrist watch from the floor. handing it to you, he manages to keep his distance, his hands intertwined with one another while he stands stiffly. “but, uh, i count her as somewhat of a friend- it’s complicated.” he crosses his arms, slightly nodding as those words of denial flow out of his lips, his eyes clearly avoiding yours.

‘is he having a crush on someone?’ you think, tilting your head to one side as you lean your chin over your knuckles, unsure of what else you could make out of this brand new information that you’d rather expect from the ruthless kryptonian with the heart disease.

“look, i’m not a therapist or anything so i’ll use my logic instead,” you start with a disclaimer, leaning your back against the rails of the high chair as he nods once again, still willing to listen. “so, what are those thoughts specifically? i mean, there’s a really huge chance that those thoughts could be distracting enough to not make you sleep.”

he stares at the other side of the room, silent again. you could tell he was so bothered by his own late-night thoughts that he could spend seconds staying quiet just by thinking about them. “... i keep on remembering how she’s looked me in the eye, scared shitless. untrusting. overall pathetic… but for some reason, i always feel the need to protect her.”

“... you could feel that?”

“i said don’t judge.”

but it was too unexpected for him to feel that way about someone! whoever that girl was, you were so sure that blitzkrieg loved her whether he’d admit it to himself or not.

“but that’s not all, i also think of her in ways that i probably shouldn’t tell you,” he says in a teasing tone, his signature smirk finally showing up within his lips after long moments of just pure seriousness and deep down in him, he’s wishing to make you feel the nosiest you’ve ever been. “... or should i?”

you squint your eyes at him in confusion, torn between being nosy and being a decent “doctor” or whatever he wants you to be.

“you seem excited to tell me so do as you please,” you say with a slight chuckle, trying your best to be relaxed about it as if you’re not interested to listen in the first place – which, in reality, you actually are. 

“what? you want me to tell you?” he’s around the middle of laughing and panicking as he avoids that look on your face again, just like earlier. in response, you hum, still playing the chill listener, who would choose to keep the darkest secrets of her friends to herself than letting them have their own privacy.

after all, you’d swear to tell no one. it’s not really much of a big deal.

he then faces you once more, eyes looking at you from top to bottom as he takes a step or two towards you. suddenly, he lifts away the mask from his face, finally revealing his biggest secret to you with anxiety firing up his nerves – and apparently, you knew who he was all along.

well, his earth-1 counterpart at least: bartholomew henry allen, the chemist from central city’s police department; someone that your past co-worker julian albert used to dislike for months.

“barry allen?” you whisper in disbelief, carefully bringing your palm to your lips to shush yourself as he nods slowly. to be honest, he’s been waiting ages for you to figure that out but it seems that you’ve brushed those thoughts away for a reason that he had no idea about. 

“anyway, back to the topic, are you sure that you want to know what i think of her?” he changes the subject as quickly as possible, which causes you to take a second before nodding along. well, it’s quite a thing for this earth to get shocking with the counterparts – this man in front of you would be called a “modern hero” in your world yet in this one, it seemed that wasn’t the case.

let’s face it. even this version of barry would call himself unkind. “oh, and before you ask why i showed you my face, that’s because i trust you,” he begins with a reminder, hoping that you’d take note of that as you nod once more. your ears are basically ringing, tingling, and almost itching to listen to what he’d tell you. “i want you to tell no one else about this, is that clear?”

and of course, you nod another time, already getting even more impatient as minutes pass by.

“i don’t think i should explain further when i tell you that i think about her a lot in bed,” barry admits with a smirk on his face as one of your eyebrow arches in curiosity. you later let out a hum, a cue for him to continue with his stories; you’re now definitely sure that he really does like her, whoever she is.

“i think about how her skin would feel under my fingertips once she finds out who i really am.”

he takes another step towards you, his eyes fixated on his gloved hands as he looks back into your eyes in a way that he’s almost telling you something that shouldn’t be said.

something that’d put himself in danger. “often times, i’d think of playing the hero over and over again… just so she knows that i’ll put my life on the line for her,” he says, later glaring back at you with a hint of desperation. — he’s been waiting for seconds, minutes, days, and even weeks to tell you this. to tell you all about it. to tell you that this girl he’s talking about is no stranger to you.

he then takes the empty seat next to yours, keeping his head down for a while. for him, saying things like these is a struggle, especially since he lives in a world where freedom couldn’t be an option unless you’re wearing a badge. and even though you were his “speed doctor,” he knew that you wouldn’t still be treated the same way as he was and the constant reminder of that was crushing him slowly.

and then, he lifts his head up and says, “i’ve been thinking about you all the time.”

you freeze in your seat as if time has stopped, taken aback by how he’s now talking about you and not someone else you didn’t know. barry reaches for your hand and you let him take it, placing it over his chest as if he’s asking you to check his pulse.

“when doctor west… iris was executed by thawne, i thought that i could never feel this way anymore,” he admits, softly caressing your hand. the rough leather of his suit grazes over your skin so gently like a feather that he almost forgot that he’d also use that same hand to drill into someone’s chest, even taking their heart out for the fun of it. “but you… you made me realize that i wasn’t always a monster. that i once loved someone… that i was once human.”

“... barry-”

“you don’t have to say anything,” he cuts you off, shaking his head as if he’s actually giving you control of the situation unlike usual, wherein it’s always his call that matters. and deep down, you didn’t know what to tell him.

everything was happening so fast that you couldn’t even believe that this earth’s barry is the man behind that dark mask, which would usually be seen before someone’s death. 

he then takes another deep breath, returning your hand back to you as he looks out at the window, spending a few moments to think about what he’s done. — he fell in love with you already and it’s too late to crawl out of the deep pit that has no floor; a wide space like an ocean but instead of waters, it’s all those things about you. what he liked about you from head to toe. the things that his mind would be focused on every single night.

he couldn’t sleep, yes.

but he’d always smile whenever he remembers that somebody like you exists in his life.

a life so dark, so broken, so warped that he believes that he doesn’t even deserve to feel loved.

“i can take you back to your earth, where you belong. i know you’ve been staying here for months…” he trailed off, thinking about it deeply. he's torn between it. just because he could love, that didn't mean he's an angel – he's a thousand miles away from it. 

he wants you here all to himself and owned by no one else but him. he craves for you to be around him all the time. he wants your eyes on him only.

but he knew it would hurt you.

and it almost kills him to think of that.

“... but you deserve to go home.” he was miserable. deep down that silly, menacing facade was just someone so in need of feeling something. anything. and god, was it so addicting to feel some love for once. “because in the end, you'll always be that person who reminded me of who i used to be… who i wished to be.”

there was long, loud silence. a silence that ticks like a time bomb, pressuring you to think of how this all would turn out to be. after all, what would happen next is in your hands.

“i’m starting to think that there’s a reason why i ended up here,” you said with a gulp, about to make the biggest decision ever. he raised an eyebrow at you, confusion shown within his whole face as he cocked his head to the side with a question that remained in his mind– what exactly did you mean? 

“this world needs saving… and maybe we’ll be the ones who’d save it.”

the speedster had a frozen look on his face, clearly not expecting that those words would even come out of your mouth.

“do you really think that it’s not too late for me to change?” hope was seen in his eyes, his brows furrowed in both confusion yet belief in what you’d tell him next as you nodded, your soft palm later reaching for the side of his face. 

he closed his eyes so tightly for a long moment, his chest rising up and down so quickly in anticipation. 

he’s never felt a touch like that in ages. the last time he’s ever felt a hand graze over his skin was the moment he’s locked eyes with his iris, who had been fighting for her life ‘til her last breath.

i’ll be okay, she said no matter how the red pooled over her chest, the blade that thawne held seconds before was sticking out of her. 

the very moment he’d realized that this agenda that the new reich had implemented was not worth doing at all.

“there’s a hero in all of us,” you said, your hand slipping away from his skin slowly when he’s suddenly reached out for it, holding your arm so dearly like fragile, thin glass. “and you already saved me.” 

“let’s go save the world together, then?”

“of course.”

[cherryfairytwist]

Ch14 RickRolled. RickFic

(tags: violence, gore, substance use)

—- HELLO —-

—- INITIATING DOWNLOAD SEQUENCE MEMORY CLUSTER #14 —-

—-PULLING UP EARLIEST ASSISTED MEMORY RECORDS —-

—- NARRATION SIMULATING NOW 

Astrid sat on her living room couch smoking a bowl while listening to her little radio one early Saturday afternoon. The muted Tv played a soap opera in the background with subtitles. Lounging quite comfortably, she began to pack another bowl when hearing the sound of Rick’s portal pop open. The smell of alcohol wafted in as he stepped into the room. 

“G-Good, you’re not busy.” He looked around the apartment as if expecting something, “We need to go! T-This is not a drill!” He demanded already in some type of mood.

“If it’s so important why don’t you ever call ahead?” She asked casually, barely acknowledging him. 

“Did you not just hear me-?!” He spat back ticked off, “D-do you even have a phone..?!” He asked with an annoyed sigh trying to hide his curiosity. 

“Also… it would be a great help if you compensated me for the car damage I got. You know- after cleaning up the spider mess a few days ago.” She tiredly muttered while pulling up her communicator. 

“Yeah yeah- W-We’ll talk about it later.” He brushed off, tapping his foot in annoyance. 

He eyed her waiting to find out what form of communication she had. She lazily held up her communicator to him with the screen on, waiting for him to plug his information in. He looked it over for a second quizzically while she lit another bowl and inhaled, watching him with squinted red eyes. 

“T-this is alien technology..! From the Zillaggian galaxy.. and it’s d-dated as hell…how old is this thing-? H-how did you even get t-this..?!” He squinted his eyes, glaring at her nonchalantness towards yet another obvious red flag of her identity. 

“Yeah… it’s old. I didn’t’ really know where it from. I’ve only heard of it. It…was a gift from an old friend of mine.” She replied casually not even paying attention to him as she watched the silent Tv.

Her ignoring Rick’s point made him stammer to himself, finding it hard to press her further. 

“G-Getting tired of lying and k-keeping up the act now have we?” He attempted half heartedly. 

Her eyes slowly looked back at him as she shrugged, “I haven’t been lying Rick. you’re just too nosey sometimes.” She said plainly before looking back at the TV.

He grumbled and quickly punched in some codes. He pulled up his watch to sync the two devices so that they were able to connect when either of them needed to contact the other. He shut off his watch and then it threw back to her on the couch with an aggressive flick of his wrist.

“Jesus that thing is a-ancient. It’s practically at earth’s iPhone standard..” he huffed. 

“What? You’re not going to try and hack it..? I’m surprised Rick…Not taking the opportunity seems very unlike you.” She rolled her head on the back of the couch to look at him, expressionless, almost goading him to try and complain more. 

“Sh-shut up! We have an emergency. D-don’t give me attitude right now.” He declared defensively. 

Astrid laughed and sat up to pack another bowl,

“Everything is an “emergency” with you Rick!” She mocked making air quotes with her fingers before she pulled the bowl up to her mouth again.

“Q-quit it! I’m serious.” Rick shouted at her as he stomped over to the couch  attempting to snatch the bowl and lighter from her hands. 

Astrid remained silent and unfazed watching him tower over her. 

“D-drop it! Let’s go..!” He grunted out trying to yank them away. 

She held tight to the items exerting a much stronger force than Rick had anticipated causing him to fall forward and almost onto her. He quickly braced himself with one knee against the couch causing it to land right between her thighs. One of his hands shot out to the back of the couch to stop himself from slamming heads with her. The other hand still held to the bowl tightly. He made eye contact, staring daggers, noticing amusement creep across her face. 

“W-what is with you today…?!” He mustered out being at a loss for words as his nerves wavered being so close to her.

“What’s with me? Shouldn’t I be the one having that reaction? Im not the one always breaking into other people’s apartments.” She said as the corners of her mouth curled upward. 

“Y-you should have said something about it before then!” He replied frustrated . 

“Like that would stop you.” She said rolling her eyes and inching her face ever so closer to his as if to challenge him. 

“O-oh and what about you Hu..?! I saw you poking around in my lab!” He bitched back, “Stay out of my stuff!” 

“Aww embraced I found your little stalker files on me?” She joked letting out a single breathy laugh. 

“No- I just saw what a f-fucking mess you left in m-my yard!” He breathed out still struggling to pull the item from her grasp. 

Rick attempted once more to pull the bowl but to no avail. Getting irritated she hadn’t moved a single inch he finally blurted out,

“Quit it! We need to go now…! T-the kids need help…!” His brow knit as he finally gave up on taking the bowl and let go. 

“Wait- what’s wrong..? The kids..?” Astrid said now sobering up immediately. 

Noticing her expression changed he then pulled her up off of the couch with him and adjusted his lab coat. 

“L-like I said. Let’s go!” He ordered while pulling out his portal gun and firing it off. 

Pulling her with him, they walked through, leading to a bright alien forest. The sky was an aqua shade and the trees and grass around them were a light lime green. The plants were all shaped much differently than the plants on earth, very jagged looking. Up a ways on a path was Rick’s ship parked hidden under one of the slouching lime colored willow like trees. She looked around wondering where the kids might be and turned to ask him as they walked towards the ship. Before she was able to get a word out, the sound of laser shots rang out from nearby. 

“O-oh FUCK!” Rick yelled out in pain as he fell over to the ground, clutching his stomach and leg from shot wounds.

Astrid reached out to help him but the ground underneath caved, causing him to fall into a spike pit below. Countless metal pikes empaled him through his chest, barely missing his throat or neck. Blood sprayed everywhere along the pit’s dark sides. Astrid barely avoiding slipping off the edge before catching her balance. 

“Rick!” Astrid shouted down at him hoping he could still respond. 

Only bloody gurgles came back as he looked up at her in shock. Sudden bolts of electricity surged out of the pikes electrocuting him senseless until he had gone limp. She whipped around to see what enemies they faced. Just in time she caught a glimpse of Galactic Federation looking bugs run off into the woods after the attack. Confirming their retreat, not having to worry about fire, she leaned over the edge of the pit and yelled down to Rick again.

“Rick h-hold on! Come- come on-! reach for my hand!” She struggled to reach for him without using her shifting abilities. 

He slowly blinked, clearly fading out of consciousness for a moment, weakly reaching up his hand to her. 

“R-Rick… stop playing around! Just use your whatever gadgets to fix yourself…!” She yelled at him frustratedly until she spotted his broke and impaled watch on a spike near by. 

Her eyebrows knit in realization the situation might actually be serious. 

“A-*awwgggghhh*” he gurgled out bloody spit  to clear his throat, “A-Astrid… pull me up..!” He wheezed out.

Astrid’s adrenaline rushed panicking that Rick seemed to be incapable of bouncing back from the damage. 

“O-okay-“ Astrid hopped over the side of the pit and slammed one of her fists into the pit’s wall to prop herself upright. Then using her upper body strength to prevent herself from falling, she outstretched her free arm to wrap around Rick’s waist. 

“EeerUHHG!” He winced feeling his injuries as she made contact. 

“Hold on!!” Astrid groaned as she used her arm strength to pull Rick off of the spikes. 

He continued to moan in agony as the spikes slipped out of him. 

C-come on old man…..! Y-you’re going to be fine-!” She continued to groan out while balancing his weight on her curled up leg freeing him from the trap. 

His moaning went silent and his body began to shake slightly. Astrid then used the same arm and free leg the hoist him up over the edge. After she knew he was placed safely she grabbed the edge and dislodged her other hand from the wall to crawl back out. Scanning the surroundings for any further threat, the complete silence started to sink in, quickly looking back to the maimed Rick. 

“Rick…? Rick….!!” She yelled at him, grabbing and shaking his suspiciously silent body on the ground, “Hey! W-wake up Rick!! RICK!! COME ON RICK-!” She felt her stomach start to drop before he let out a pitiful gasp.

“S-stop…. screaming- *cough* .” He wheezed out while shoving her hands away, not wanting to be shook. 

“Holy shit Rick- you-you have a clone or something back h-home right…? Y-your watch…”She still gripped his shoulders tightly starting to feel panic creep into her chest. 

His body had gone limp and the bleeding wasn’t stopping. The color in his already pale face was fading at an alarming rate. She felt disbelief, THE Rick Sanchez would be fine right…? He always had a plan. So why did this situation seem so intense? Was she just not used to Rick’s style of cycling through artificial bodies and dramatic temporary deaths? 

“And… the kids are used to this kind of thing..?” She attempted to joke to try and calm herself waiting for his response. 

“N-no… this is different-t-this time.” Rick groaned out in pain barely fluttering his eyes open to look up at her, blood drooling from his mouth. 

“Wait- w-what do you mean…?” She said softly feeling the pang of tears just behind her eyes, this situation reminded her of the time her handler had almost died back in the day. 

“My…. watch.. it’s broken. *HUUUAAAHUGGH*. “ he coughed up a splash of blood onto her top involuntarily, “I-I don’t k-know if my back up will register m-my consciousness if the watch has been broken…” he breathed shallowly and paused to catch his breath. 

“Y-you’re kidding right-?” A small tear escaped Astrid’s eye as she looked back down at him starting to feel helpless. 

“Listen….. keep it together. I need y-you to save the kids… i-if you can get them back I-in time we might be able to take the ship home- upload me t-to a clone.” His breathing started to soften a little seeming almost too calm. 

“Your portal gun…! What about that?! Just teleport home and I’ll get the kids-!” She insisted desperately trying to search through his lab coat. 

“I-it was knocked out of my hands… did you see w-where it went…?” He asked now starting to seem dazed from the lack of blood. 

“It’s-it’s right-“ Astrid whipped her head around to the pit, the gun lay at the bottom, broken and leaking portal fluid into the dirt. 

“Fuck…!” She breathed out shaky realizing Rick just might bite the dust right here and now. 

“It’s okay..! J-just get the kids and h-head back. G-grab the pills in my l-left pocket…!” He fought to stay awake.

Astrid grabbed the pills and presented them to him with wide eyes wanting to understand how they could help. She then propped him back up to help him speak better. 

“G-give me three. It’ll stop my bleeding for a while… but you’ll need to hurry.” He gasped out once before opening his mouth to receive them. 

She quickly complied popping them into his mouth. He then choked them down furrowing his brow and hacking to clear his airways. 

“I’m about t-to pass out- don’t freak out. I-it’s just the pills. The federation bugs t-took them t-to some outpost nearby. H-Help me get the kids back in one piece… T-they’ll know how to drive the ship back home… j-just keep it together-“ he suddenly went limp, his unconscious body lay dangling in her hands. 

“R-Rick….?!” She breathed out as she quickly held up her ear to his chest. 

She could hear his heartbeat, ever so faintly. She easily picked him up in her arms and quickly jogged with him to his ship. 

“Uh…. Ship…? P-protect Rick until I can get the kids…. Okay…?” Astrid stammered out knowing it took commands from Rick, never having talked to the ship herself before directly. 

“I do not take orders from anyone but Rick.” It snapped back sassily to her, “However, since it is my duty to protect Rick I will comply. Leave him here.” It concluded while opening the glass for him. 

Astrid gently placed him into the passenger seat. The glass then snapped shut as soon as she stepped back. She looked at Rick one more time noting how peaceful he looked sitting unconscious. 

“You better hang on.. I’m going to get the kids.” She said with bitterness, feeling rage pumping through her veins. 

What had even just happened? Something didn’t feel right but she couldn’t place it. She shook her head thinking about how she still felt high from earlier, was that why? She couldn’t explain it to herself, she had only just gotten to know the Smiths but something deep inside her felt like it was going to combust. Was it that the situation was too similar to the fiasco she experienced back at Cognito? Was this post traumatic stress she was feeling? Was it because this situation disillusioned her to how supposedly invincible she thought Rick was? She couldn’t tell. All she knew was that if those bugs harmed the kids, this whole planet was going to be destroyed by her own hands. Adrenaline pumping, the stakes were high and it felt as if all other thoughts faded out of her mind. She decided to attempt a risk she was willing to take. She put in one of her communicator earbuds, taking a deep breath and pressing play on the device. “With You In My Head“ by UNKLE started to play. 

“Agent, your mission is to obtain and protect the Smith siblings. Use any means necessary… within reason..to do it in haste.” She silently stated to herself copying what her handler most likely would have said in a moment similar.

She felt her breath get shallow, was this a panic attack? She wondered it only for a moment before she felt the top of her spine snap forward. Her vision went black for a moment, everything had gone silent. She saw a small light… no, a tunnel. She was in the forest already sprinting at an unnatural speed. Flying by trees, her nostrils shifted and flared as she picked up the familiar scent of the Smiths near by with an alien nose. Her behavior was like that of a hunting dog closing in. The outpost Rick spoke of stuck out like a sore thumb straight ahead in a clearing. There were very few thoughts in her head, mostly objectives. 

Coming up to the post she spotted two of the insect guards posted outside a side entrance. She did not slow her pace, her movement turned into something like that of a spear. Lunging out of the green, her hands were around their neck’s in seconds. Loud snaps followed, not even allowing her victims to know what had transpired. Their bodies slumped back against the wall lifeless. A ripple was felt throughout her body as it shifted to copy the exact appearance of one of the victims. Her hand then plucked one of the key cards off their neck to open the door. She didn’t need to bother hiding the bodies, this would be quick. Once inside she looked about with her new bug eyes figuring out what pathways to take to find Summer and Morty. 

~

Back at the ship, Rick’s eyes popped open followed by a deep inhale. He looked about slowly to see if there was any sign of Astrid nearby. He proceeded to cough up a bit of bloody bile onto the ship’s floor. 

“S-ship, s-show me footage of where A-Astrid is.” He commanded, a weak grin crept across his face as the ship pulled it up on a screen panel. 

~

At this point the outpost’s alarms had started sounding. Astrid walked about the building bloody, looking mindless and deranged calling out for the two kids. Corpses littered the hall behind her. Other than the alarms, most the building had gone silent. She no longer had to worry about shifting to take on the identity of the bugs. They already knew she was there at that point. 

“Summer! Morty! Where are you?” She shouted to be heard over the noise, unnervingly calm. 

She finally came up to double doors with a sign labeled “Mess hall” above them. 

“A-Astrid….?!” Morty’s shrill voice called in surprise from inside having heard her over the sirens. 

“Morty!” She called out relieved, shoving the doors open. 

Shots rang out towards her, she flew forward dodging their path, diving behind an overturned mess hall table for cover. She held the laser gun she had stolen from Rick a while back tightly, waiting for silence. She peaked up over the rim to see a few bugs had the siblings held tied up over near the kitchen area. 

“You have some nerve launching an attack on one of THE Galactic Federation’s out posts! Reinforcements will be coming soon!” One of the bugs called to her from the kitchen. 

“Are you crazy?! Did you see what she did to the others on the security cams….?!” Another bug bickered in panic while holding a firm grip over Summer’s mouth in fear, using her as a human shield. 

“Shut up idiot! We have hostages!” Another yelled at him trying to assure them. 

“I have nerve? You took the Smith children from Rick Sanchez.” Astrid replied plainly with no emotion from behind the table. 

“T-that’s right…! R-Rick a-and Astrid are going to fuck y-you guys up..!!” Morty yelled out across the mess hall confidently. 

“Shut your mouth!” The head bug screeched before slapping Morty across the face.

Morty lashed out and bit the bug hard on his fingers causing it to scream out. The bug then punched Morty in the gut leaving him winded. 

Astrid felt her jaw clench in anger and suddenly she was jumping over the table towards them. The bugs all screamed out in fear, firing off shots in her direction. Summer took the opportunity to bite the hand of the bug that held her mouth causing him to recoil away in a scream. 

“Morty! G-get up!!” Summer yelled as she attempted to help him up off the floor away from the bugs. 

Astrid dodged and weaved around mess hall furniture while firing off shots of her own. Seeing the kids were out of range she tossed up a chair and kicked it across the room, instantly making aggressive contact with the bug closest to the siblings. The bug went flying back into the grill with a painful thud and groan. Before Astrid was able to duck again a shot got her in the stomach. 

“UAAH!” She yelled in pain as she fell to the floor behind another table. 

“Astrid!!” Summer yelled in shock after seeing Astrid had been shot. 

The bugs quickly took the opportunity to grab both the siblings again, and the one bug rolling off the grill. This time the bugs jostled them about more violently, using them as human shields once more, holding up guns to their heads. 

“If you-you want these two alive, come out with your hands up…! I-if you can get up that is…” the head bug yelled over to Astrid confidently. 

“N-no! Astrid don’t do it!” Morty protested looking from Summer back over to the table. 

“A-Astrid…? you’re okay right..?” Summer called, now worried by the silence that had followed the bug’s demand. 

Everyone stood holding their breaths not knowing what to do in the moment. The head bug then grabbed one that had fallen off the grill and shoved him forward, 

“Go check to see if she’s dead! Hurry up.” He demanded. 

“W-wait boss-! Why me.?!” The other bug questioned fearfully freezing in place. 

“Because you idiot, we got the hostages!! GO CHECK!” The head bug screamed back angrily. 

After a moment of hesitation the other bug tip-toed over to the table where Astrid lay behind. He peeked over for a second and sighed a breath of relief. The siblings both looked at each other in horror assuming the worst had happened. The bug then went behind the table to retrieve Astrid’s body for safe measure. Tears started to roll down Morty’s cheeks as he began to hyperventilate. 

“No… no….! Y-you have to be okay Astrid…!” Summer whispered in denial, not wanting to face the reality another one of their friends died because of them. 

The two bugs holding the kids started to snicker thinking they were finally in the clear when a loud snap echoed throughout the mess hall. Everyone went silent as the investigating bug’s lifeless body fell to the floor, revealing its horrifying twisted neck. 

“FUCK!!” One of the remaining bugs screamed in fear.

“S-STAY BACK!!! I’M SERIOUS, WE’LL SHOOT…..COME OUT!” He shouted now shaking in fear. 

Fear creeped down everyone’s spines as they heard an a quiet unnerving giggle come from behind the table. Astrid slowly rose up from behind with her hand up slowly. A dark ink like fluid dripped from the corner of her mouth as well as her stomach wound. The other hand gripped her side as an inappropriate grin sat across her face. 

“Okay.. okay. I’m done playing around now, just had to get that one out of my system. I mean.. now it’s fair right? You exchanged those two for your two lives right?” She said to the bugs as she slowly inched closer with caution. 

“Are you fucking s-serious-?!” The head bug choked out in disbelief of her gall. 

“I mean…” she said in a joking tone, chuckling while couching up more black liquid. 

“This is crazy…! W-we have the kids! Back off…!” The other bug choked out trying desperately to assert their fleeting dominance. 

Astrid’s eye contact went to both Summer and Morty, checking to see what states they were in. Her face softened a little but the deranged twinkle in her eye did not subside. 

“Summer..? Morty..? You two okay?” She asked letting empathy soak into her words. 

“Y-yeah…!” Morty sobbed out once, still getting over the fear of thinking Astrid was dead before feeling the unnerving sensation her expression left on him. 

“Yeah…! A-Astrid what do we do…?” Summer asked hesitantly feeling the energy ripple off of Astrid. 

“Kids.. I want you to know that these past few months have meant a lot to me… I really think we are all birds of a feather you know…? That’s an Earth saying right? I haven’t had this much fun in ages…” Astrid started to confess still smiling. 

“Astrid what are you saying…?! Why does that-?” Summer started to tear up fearing why Astrid suddenly would be mentioning sentimental things at the moment. 

“Calm down- listen.” Astrid interrupted her before Summer could continue. 

“You finally giving up….? Y-yeah.. It’s about time!” The head bug interjected quickly. 

“You guys… I just want to say I’m sorry. I haven’t been one-hundred percent honest with you guys…. I’m sure you both have noticed- besides just your grandpa…” Astrid confessed slowly, a bit of regret creeping into her voice. 

“W-who cares…!!! W-we both knew y-you weren’t normal Astrid- w-why does that matter at a-a time like this…?!” Morty yelled out between angry sobs. 

“Morty… I just was trying to protect myself, you two should understand…I wasn’t purposely trying to deceive you or anything.” Astrid looked down at the ground for a second with gritted teeth before composing herself again. 

“Astrid…?” Summer called out still scared as to what this meant. 

“What the hell does any of that even mean?! Why are you still yapping? Are you giving up or what-?!” The bug yelled in frustration before being interrupted. 

“Kids, I’m going to make sure you two are okay, I’ll understand if you two just want to take your grandpa and leave after this okay? He’s hurt bad and is going to need your help.. I won’t be mad if you leave me here.” She said with resolve. 

“W-what do you mean-?” Morty asked confused before he abruptly went silent.

Astrid’s eye went black. There was only enough time for a gasp of air before the visual of her blurred right by the two siblings. It was in turn followed by two loud neck snaps. Both Summer and Morty’s blood ran cold as the bugs that were holding them hostage crumpled to the floor behind their feet. They both looked up at her black, dead looking eyes while trembling slightly. 

“Astrid..?” Summer squeaked out in fear realizing why she had started confessing all that a moment ago. 

“You two need to run.” Astrid said struggling to feel control over herself, she breathed in sharply fearing what happened at Cognito Inc. was about to repeat itself. 

Before the siblings were able to move, a shot rang out from the mess hall doors as a straggler bug seemed to have found them. 

“Die you freak!!” It screamed in rage.

Both the siblings eyes went wide in horror as they noticed a laser hole leaked black on Astrid’s forehead. 

“NO! ASTRID!!” They both screamed in horror as she limply fell forward in front of them. 

Her knees buckled and she fell backwards, sprawling out against the tile floor. A pool of black ink forming under her skull. The sibling both screamed and dropped to their knees, grabbing at her arms and shaking her. 

“No no no no…!!!” Summer sobbed, tears pouring down her face.

“WHY?! WHY?!” Morty screamed.

“You- you were so nice to us Astrid…! You got us…! Come on, please!! Please-!!” Summer yelled at her. 

“Get up Astrid…! G-get up…!” Morty sobbed even harder still attempting to shake her awake. 

“W-we need to get Rick…! H-he can-“ Summer tried to suggest desperately. 

“S-she said he was injured…. W- we’d need to take him home as soon as-“  her sobs where cut short. 

“Shut up and stay down! You little shits are going to pay for this!” The straggler bug yelled at them as it rushed up, gun out pointed at them. 

As he closed in and was about to grab Morty by the collar, Astrid’s body flinched, tiny little popping noises were heard coming from her skull. Her eyes shifted back to normal irises and she kicked up sending her boot into the bug’s eye. 

“AAAH!” He screamed recoiling in pain as his fly eye popped from the impact. 

She flipped backwards sending her legs coiling around the bug’s neck and briskly snapped his neck violently with her thighs. His lifeless body sent them both tumbling forward onto the floor. Astrid let out a groan crawling up off of him, still feeling the pain of her injuries. 

“Y-you’re okay-?” Morty gasped in surprise before a chorus of noises interrupted the siblings. 

Congratulatory horns sounded off from panels in the mess hall walls, confetti burst from the ceiling all over the room, and a small stage rose up from a panel in the center of the room. The sound of a familiar Earth song started to play, “Never Going To Give You Up” by Rick Astley blared out. A completely uninjured Rick rose up with the stage, dancing along mockingly to it just like in the music video. 

“N-nice job Astrid! You really saved the kids again!” He said in a mockingly pleased tone. 

“What the hell…?” Morty squinted his eyes in irritated confusion. 

“Grandpa what is going on…?! You’re okay?” Summer asked him knowing he was about to explain everything going on. 

“Well~ you see Summer, I was RIGHTTT~!” He gloated, “ Your little friend here is as I suspected, NOT human, and self healing. S-she’s some kind of shape shifter.” He said pointing finger guns at her. 

“W-wait… you did all this…?! Us being kidnapped?! Y-You pretending to be injured so you could see h-how Astrid c-came to save us?” Morty demanded angrily knowing exactly how his grandfather could be. 

“Bingo. I’m surprised M-Morty, you caught on fast this time-“ he said amused then turned to look down at Astrid on the floor, “just made a few clones of federation bugs… rewired their brains to think this was their real working outpost- faked getting injured- simple stuff really. But now I got plenty of concrete evidence of your TOTALLY NORMAL high school teacher’s assistant doing very abnormal stuff! I-I saw all the footage back at the ship.” He rubbed in her face.

“So you’re fine…. And the Galactic Federation isn’t on its way here right now…?” Astrid asked emotionlessly still not looking up from the floor. 

“Well yeah, duh.” Rick said nonchalantly rolling his eyes. 

Astrid wobbled to stand up, still looking down. Summer tried to help her up but was shook off, walking past straight to Rick. He arched an eyebrow, wearing a shit eating grin, wondering what she could possibly say now. 

“Don’t be too sore, it was just a good prank though right? I really got you now. But hey~ now you don’t have to hide your identity anymore right?” He said practically oozing with how pleased with himself he was. 

Without a further word, Astrid punched him hard in the nose, sending him stumbling backward. He clutched his now bloody nose angrily, looking up at her in angered shock. 

“W-what gives…?! You can regenerate! You’ll be just fine! I-it was just a h-harmless test. Y-You can’t knock me for wanting to find out what you’re made of!” He said insistently, still denying any wrongdoing. 

“I’ll be fine? Yes Rick. I’ll be FINE!” She snapped back at him with full force using some kind of alien screech, “So what!? You couldn’t just wait to get to know me as a person? You didn’t mind traumatizing your own grandchildren to prove a point? You didn’t mind risking them in a situation where they could have been double crossed or injured- OR WORSE-…AND I DONT CARE IF YOU THINK YOU HAVE THEIR BODIES BACKED UP TO CLONES OR WHATEVER-! You…- You didn’t even care about risking my life if I hadn’t had regenerative abilities like you wagered? WHAT THEN?!” Her unnatural screams echoed through the mess hall violently at him. 

The siblings remained silent looking towards their grandpa, quietly feeling solidarity with her. This left Rick speechless trying to find the words to defend himself. While waiting for a response, Astrid coughed up more black fluid painfully from her throat. 

“I- I couldn’t trust you still..!” He attempted to argue but stopped himself realizing how lame he sounded. 

“Oh- YES! You’re so right Rick. How could I have forgotten that?” Astrid said sarcastically with no hint of humor in her tone. 

She then shoved past him roughly, making her exit back out the mess hall doors. Rick turned and scoffed, still not wanting to admit his test had gone too far. 

“Astrid wait…!” Summer called to her, following behind, “We’re so so sorry for grandpa…! He- he shouldn’t have-“ 

As their voices faded down the hallway Rick rolled his eyes and groaned to himself. Morty glared up at him pissed, finally having enough of it too. 

“Y-you know y-you’re in the wrong r-right..? I mean… Astrid has been s-showing up who she was. She wasn’t even hiding anything! I knew it, Summer knew it..! We all know you knew it!!” He argued angrily. 

“W-what would you know MORTY?! Yeah sure she made it OBVIOUS- BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN SHE WASN’T JUST LIKE TAMMY! Are y-you two that- that oblivious?! Where did she e-even come from?! Why the fuck would she be so eager to get close to o-our family…? For crying out loud that substance leaking from her nose is CONCENTRATED DARK MATTER MORTY! You think that’s safe..?! There is something up with her! I-i literally have proof of her being a shapeshifter!! LOOK!” Rick yelled back as he pulled up footage projections from his perfectly good watch. 

Morty looked up to see him cycle through sped up clips of “suspicious” behaviors he had caught on recording of Astrid. Morty’s eyes went wide, soaking up all the information, but then quickly knitting his eyebrows in anger. 

“R-Rick.. you’ve been stalking her this whole time?” He asked angered by the file footage showing her location show up in DC as part of Rick’s proof. 

“I- I’ve been doing research…!” Rick spat back offended my Morty. 

Morty pinched his forehead in irritation knowing there was no way he’d get through to Rick. 

“Jesus… y-you ruined our chance to finally make a friend that could k-keep up w-with all our crazy shit..!! S-She was showing us her true colors Rick…! God- she even helped you multiple time w-without asking for anything back really! S-She talked to me and Summer about herself more directly a few times..!  None of us were ever in the dark about this..!” Morty spat out. 

“Sh-shut up Morty..! Y-You two should have said something then! I-instead of just telling me I was being paranoid! At least I made sure t-there was no room for any more deception. We know what better to expect now!” Rick raged back, clearly bitter they had known more than letting on. 

“Y-you know… you really don’t need to know everything all the time Rick. Not everyone owes you an explanation!” Morty shot back before leaving the mess hall. 

“That’s not-!” Rick attempted to continue arguing but Morty had already gone. 

~ 

It had taken Rick about fifteen minutes to walk back to the ship, hoping to have let the rest of them cool off before flying back home. He awkwardly scratched the back of his head as he neared them, seeing the two siblings huddled close to Astrid. He could hear them trying to get her to talk to them. Watching her stand silently avoiding eye contact with the kids and looking off into the woods, angry and mentally checked out.  

“Astrid please…? We know Rick is an ass hole but please give us a chance to make it up to you! Rick could fix up your injuries-“ Summer started. 

“Summer… stop. I just want to go back to Earth right now. It’s not your fault, I’m just done with this right now.” Astrid muttered tiredly to her, hearing Rick walk up. 

“Okay, let’s get out of here then.” Rick said casually, responding to her as if he had been part of their conversation. 

She rolled her eyes angrily in response and avoided his gaze. They then all piled into the ship, a tense energy hung in the air that could have been cut with a knife. Rick pulled them out of orbit and fired up a portal, making the trip back home quick. It was now night time back on Earth as Rick pulled the ship into the driveway. They all silently got out and turned to look at Astrid, her still avoiding eye contact with any of them. 

“C-could you maybe s-stay for a bit..? W-we could watch some tv or w-we could tell moms you’re staying for dinner…” Morty asked nervously grasping at straws to keep her there. 

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea Morty.” She bluntly answered before pointing the rest of her response at Rick, “Seeing as I’m not trustworthy enough to be around the family.” 

“I mean t-that’s up to you.” Rick answered with a snort, trying to sound casual. 

“Grandpa Rick, just apologize!!” Summer spat out at him.

Rick angrily turned to Summer and started to argue, “Y-you know what Summer..?! I’ll say the same thing I said to Morty before you went running off-!” 

The siblings and Rick started to argue for an intense few minutes, rehashing some of the things Rick had brought up to Morty back at the fake Federation base. Being so consumed in the argument they hadn’t even noticed Astrid was no longer there with them when they turned to look. 

“W-where did Astrid go…? Did she just leave…?” Morty asked surprised, looking around the street for any sign of her. 

“W-Whatever! If she’s ganna be a sore loser about a-a PRANK, then she can just go g-get over it.” Rick insisted before storming back into the garage. 

~

Astrid shuffled back towards her apartment on the dimly lit street, still clutching her side and forehead. Yes she had regenerative abilities, but she still felt the pain of it healing. Her head felt fuzzy and her thoughts felt empty. Was she in shock? She had gone through worse scenarios before… why did today’s events feel so troubling then? She huffed out a deep breath, little bits of inky liquid splattering in the sides of her mouth, forming up from another cough. Her ears started to ring and the faint sound of laughter filled the air. She looked around the street in confusion wondering if it was just in her head. A few of the street lamps flickered but one at the end of the street continued to shine without interruption. 

“~Tough night~?”  A distant coo asked in her ear on the empty road. 

She recoiled away from the perceived voice, turning to look and see where the owner of it might be. But with no one behind her, she continued to rubbed her head in frustration. Did the injury cause her to start hallucinating?  She sighed a breath of relief thinking that must have been the cause. As she turned back towards her destination her eyes met with a figure underneath the light at the end of the road. 

“What….?! What do you want…?!” She shouted at it while continuing to walk forward in hopes of deterring it away. 

It stood still, not wavering from its spot in the slightest. The figure was on the tall side, sporting what looked to be some type of wide brimmed hat. It slowly reached out a long arm towards Astrid, unnerving but welcoming. Something felt too familiar about it. Astrid shut her eyes and breathed for a moment hoping if it was just in her head that it would go away. She opened her eyes after a second or two and it was gone. She swiveled her head around to check that it wasn’t near by and took off running towards her apartment. 

~

Earth Beth came down the stairs already a little drunk from having too much fun with Jerry and Space Beth upstairs. It was really late and most the lights were off in the house. She noticed the tv was on from the dim glow coming from the family room. She swayed a little as she neared the dining room door, hoping not to disturb the kids by getting another glass of wine. 

“I can’t believe it..! He’s unbelievable!” Summer whispered angrily from the other room. 

“I-I mean he’s always like this… I-I feel so bad for Astrid..” Morty replied back to Summer quietly. 

Beth already in the kitchen, paused to listen in on them. She heard them rant about all that had transpired that day to each other as if still in disbelief. She frowned and swayed her way towards the family room door. 

“Dad did w-what…?!” She demanded in shocked anger to her kids.

—- PART FOURTEEN COMPLETED —- 

—- SHUTTING DOWN —-

—- GOODBYE —-

[myhauntedsalem]

The Unexplained Mystery of Granger

A young man, Granger Taylor was a mechanical genius that was self-taught. He dropped out of school in the eighth grade, however, at the age of only fourteen he built a one-cylinder automobile which is now on display the Duncan Forest Museum along with a steam locomotive that he hauled out of the woods and restored. At age seventeen he overhauled a bulldozer that no one else could repair. He built a replica of a World War II fighter plane that was snatched-up by a collector for $20,000.

Granger always wondered how Flying Saucer were powered. He built his own out of two satellite dishes, one top and one bottom, as an inspiration. His “flying saucer” became a home-away-from-home with couch, TV and a wood stove. He would often sleep in his “space craft”.

He later said he was in contact with extraterrestrials that were going to show him how their technology works. He told everyone he was going for a trip on an alien space ship. Then one night in November of 1980 he disappeared and left a note for his family. To this day, despite an RCMP investigation, he has never been found, nor have they found any possible clues as to his whereabouts.

The Granger Affair is certainly a great Canadian mystery. Surely a man of his obvious mechanical talents would not go unnoticed had he simply slipped away in the night. After a four year investigation authorities haven’t a single lead to where he might be.

The Granger Taylor Flying Saucer rests on stilts in the backyard of the Taylor home at Duncan on Vancouver Island. It is a mute memorial to its builder, young Granger Taylor.

“He built his spaceship out of two satellite receiving dishes and outfitted it with a television, a couch, and a wood-burning stove. He became obsessed with finding out how flying saucers were powered, spending hours sitting in the ship thinking and often sleeping there,” wrote Douglas Curran in his book: In Advance of the Landing: Folk Concepts of Outer Space (1985).

Then one November night in 1980 Granger Taylor simply disappeared.

He left behind a yard strewn with old tractors; machine engines, vintage automobiles, a bulldozer, as well as a note which read:

Dear Mother and Father, I have gone away to walk aboard an alien ship, as recurring dreams assured a 42 month interstellar voyage to explore the vast universe, then return. I am leaving behind all my possessions to you as I will no longer require the use of any. Please use the instructions in my will as a guide to help. Love, Granger.

The forty-two months were up in May 1984 and his parents, Jim and Grace Taylor, leave the back door unlocked in case their son shows up. But he never has.

Granger Taylor left school in the eighth grade and found work as a mechanic’s helper, showing a flair for repairing machinery. At the age of fourteen he built a one-cylinder car which is on display at the Duncan Forest Museum. He constructed a replica of a World War II fighter plane, and he left behind his silver-and-red flying saucer.

He told a friend a month before he disappeared that he was in mental contact with someone from another galaxy and that he was in receipt of an invitation to go on a trip through the Solar System.

“On the night that Granger disappeared, ” wrote Curran, ” a storm struck the central part of Vancouver Island. Hurricane winds were reported and electrical power was knocked out. Granger vanished, along with his blue pick-up truck.

“After four years of ‘exhaustive checks’ of hospital, passport, employment, and vehicle records, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police have not uncovered a single clue as to the whereabouts of Granger Taylor. ‘I can hardly believe Granger’s off in a spaceship, ‘his father said. ‘But if there is a flying object out there, he’s the one to find it.’ ”

[moltz23]

When the Darkness gets Miscasted - An Essay about Three Houses' "those who slither in the dark"

As someone that joined the FE fandom with Sacred Stones, I gotta say, “Those who slither in the dark” are an interesting experiment as far as antagonistic factions go. In spite of being the most alien-like group featured in the franchise (as of Engage), regardless of the 3H story branch picked, TWSITD in the long-term serves as an villainous third wheel of sorts, going from being very active late into Part 1, to vanishing almost entirely by Part 2, not even getting an proper send-off in half of the routes. So what happened?

Well, after pondering about it for a while, I believe the reason TWSITD fell into this situation is because their unique traits don’t mesh well with the broader purpose the story gave them. In other words, I’m saying “those who slither in the dark” were miscasted.

To explain what exactly I mean by this, a brief recap of the group is in order:

Part 1: The Nitty-Gritty of the Slitherers.

This concept art of Shambhala is so cool.

In Three Houses (and Three Hopes by proxy), “Those who slither in the dark” is an organization that causes strife in Fódlan anonymously:

“In the long history of the Church of Seiros... No, long before even that… There have been an endless number of threats to the peace of Fódlan. Yet, those who oppose us still operate in the shadows, their identities a mystery.” - Rhea in Report: Red Wolf Moon

Their origins can be traced back to remnants of Agartha: an ancient human civilization of Fódlan once that waged war against Sothis and her kids - trying to seize control of the continent from them -, but got themselves wiped out when Sothis retaliated. The remaining survivors then retreated underground, bowing revenge against Sothis, her spawn, and those spared by her wrath. And from then on, this remnant cut contact with the outside world for over a millenia, thus becoming - as far as everyone else is concerned - “those who slither in the dark”.

The ones who call themselves Agarthans want mainly 2 things: Payback against Sothis’ surviving kin ie. Rhea, Seteth, Flayn and Byleth (once they know they’re Sothis reborn); and

obtain what Sothis denied Agartha: dominion over the surface.

“Let no crisis go to waste” is the group’s core motto, as whenever something bad happens in Fodlan, they will likely be there to reap the benefits, usually by:

Acting as benefactors, providing resources (or the means/knowledge) others would normally be never able to gain normally.

Doing Crests experiments once the avenue is open.

And body-snatching, letting them act in the open without giving themselves away, all while opening a new pool of resources and connections to draw from.

As for their Modus Operandi, their general plan is to get involved in a major conflict where they gain something by their chosen side coming out on top (which is known as a proxy war). Given their track record, their MO looks like this:

Find a pawn who could gain enough followers (or already has them) to kickstart a large-scale conflict, and offer your services.

Once the fighting starts, provide support to show your pawn how much of an asset you are to their cause.

If your pawn gets killed or the conflict ends with the opposition alive, then retreat underground, and let the years pass by.

Go back to step 1.

The group’s identity - as in, what differentiates them from other villainous groups - is comprised by the following:

Design-wise, save for one exception, all non-disguised Agarthans have ghastly white skin and dress in black.

Resource-wise, they have access to giant automatons, electric turrets, kinetic orbital missiles (called “javelins of light”), demonic beasts, and more.

Character-wise, regardless of each member’s individual personality, every one of them always showcases hubris and xenophobia. In a related note, every member is also portrayed unsympathetically.

Soundtrack-wise, the group’s heavily associated with dubstep.

Finally, when it comes to TWSITD’s narrative purpose in the main stories:

Their general objective is to serve as the puppeteers behind the scenes, trying to manipulate events behind the scenes and their pawn of choice (ie. the Empire/Edelgard) to achieve their ends.

Meanwhile, as far specific objectives go, they:

Kill Jeralt, and thus, force Byleth to fuse with Sothis before Rhea can have them sit on Sothis’ throne, thus unintentionally foiling the Archbishop’s agenda.

Give Edelgard the means to remove Rhea from the story at the end of Part 1 (used only outside CF) through their Demonic Beasts.

Set up the Final Boss of Part 2 of Verdant Wind and Silver Snow by the story having Byleth’s party reach Shambhala, their HQ.

Help Azure Moon’s story explore the Tragedy of Duscur subplot.

Help Crimson Flower’s story explore the TWSITD alliance subplot.

Part 2: Those Who Experiment In The Dark.

As alluded early, the Slitherers stand out from other major villainous factions in FE due to being the very definition of experimental. I use this term because no major villainous faction in Fire Emblem prior to them has had to contend with the following factors:

1. Access to Modern/Sci-Fi Technology:

While everyone else in the setting - including the Agarthans to an extent - use medieval western-inspired resources, only they get exclusive access to modern/sci-fi weapons like giant robots, turrets, and orbital missiles.

2. Deal with Multiple Handicaps:

I previously covered this in a past-article (that can be found here), but for those unaware: the manner the plot in Three Houses is written ensures the Slitherers' path towards their goal isn’t a straight one:

In spite of initially having Edelgard be just a puppet in someone else’s plans, they end up working for her thanks to some deals both parties make behind the scenes, thus leading TWSITD to backstab their former collaborator once Edelgard makes her move and becomes Emperor. Once that happens-

They take a backseat from the plot midway through the story, relinquishing their spotlight to Edelgard while she drives the story onwards. Meaning-

They rely on Edelgard winning to get anywhere, which would normally not be an issue if it wasn’t for how-

Edelgard plans to get rid of them once they’re no longer needed. Not only that, but she also screws the group over in every route in some form.

And that’s not even going into the other two problems they have to deal with:

A. Their orbital/kinetic missiles being impractical: I also did an analysis on those things, but long story short: two routes imply they can’t abuse the weapon at their leisure; their most desired target (Garreg Mach) is protected by a jamming spell/device; and if we go by the evidence at hand, not only the missiles were crafted back when Agartha was still a thing 1000 years before the main plot, we have no evidence they have the means to replenish their stock due to the javelins being orbital missiles (aka dropped from space).

B. Nemesis being unreliable: So, here an interesting fact about Nemesis: dude never died in the introductory movie (perhaps he just went into sleep, not unlike how most Nabateans & Byleth do when wounded enough?), and had to be sealed because, to indirectly quote Rhea’s words in Verdant Wind, no one really knows how the Crest of Flames works.

The known credit the Slitherers get with Nemesis’ return in Verdant Wind is that they were definitely prepared in case he woke up. After Shambhala has been destroyed, the story shows that not only they held him in a coffin somewhere in their catacombs, multiple flavor texts allude they are the reason Nemesis has the reanimated corpses of his old allies for Verdant Wind’s final battle. Beyond that, no one really knows why Nemesis returns at the very end only in Claude’s route, and how much TWSITD may be behind it. He just… returns.

3. They Lose Their Original Purpose (in 2/4 of the Post-Timeskip).

Quick development trivia for y’all: Silver Snow was the story branch of Three Houses that started it all, laying the foundation of every other route that came after. And in it, plus Verdant Wind - for sharing similar story beats - “those who slither in the dark” fulfill a specific purpose in Part 2’s story: setting up the scenario for the final battle to happen though having the player’s party going to Shambhala (their HQ), whether it’s by: wounding Rhea lethally, thus playing a part in her sudden dragon degeneration (Silver Snow); or by having an army prepared for Nemesis once he wakes up in Shambhala after their defeat (Verdant Wind).

But then, Crimson Flower and Azure Moon changed everything. Because both stories deviate from Silver Snow by using Chapter 11 to set up their own Final Boss in advance (Rhea in CF, Edelgard in AM), the writing team behind those routes was forced to solve the following issue:

“What happens when the story doesn’t need to go to Shambhala? As in, when the story has no need for the Slitherers to set up the final battle?”

The solution found was simple: TWSITD would blend-in with the Empire, and be forced to stick with Edelgard to reach the end of the road they crave. In turn, each path would show how well that situation ends for them.

(As a quick tangent: 3H’s The Cutting Room Floor page having unused unit data for a playable Edelgard and Dimitri in the Shambhala map - and nothing else - does very little to corroborate the idea that both CF and AM ever intended to visit the place in the stories beyond the planning stages).

No major antagonistic group in the series before the Agarthans has been ever given such a mixed bag to work with. And I believe it’s no coincidence either, as it very much appears most of these handicaps were placed to ensure TWSITD doesn’t have enough control of the plot to allow a “Golden Ending” to happen just by defeating them early. Still, this doesn’t change their unique situation as it causes unfortunate problems for them, and it’s precisely this what I want to address to finally explain why this group of antagonists were miscasted in the stories 3H tells.

Part 3: The Bad, Good, and Nasty side of the Agarthan.

Let’s get the bad out of the way first: even though their general objective in the story is to act as the puppeteers behind the scenes, in a twist of irony, the Agarthans are at their weakest when trying to manipulate their way into victory. The reasons are twofold:

A. Their handicaps limit their level of threat and control imposed. And…

B. Due to their anonymity shtick, they straight up don’t appear unless the plot calls for it.

These two details explain why they fall out of relevance by the time the timeskip takes place (and for the Three Hopes spinoff, this too goes for Azure Gleam’s second timeskip), and when they finally reappear, their performance ultimately falls flat despite all the spectacle provided. For all their efforts, the Slitherers unfortunately have a lot going against them that stops them from accomplishing the main objective the writers set out for them (and worse of all, this is by design).

Incidentally, another problem that quickly springs up for TWSITD is that, once they are forced to fight outside the darkness and can no longer count on their surprise/shock factor, they’re

taken care of in a pretty swift fashion (see AM Chapter 19 and VW/SS Chapter 21/20). And this is because, at the end of the day, they are just an organization of people that has historically relied on other nations’ armies to put up a fight vs the Church after the fall of Agartha. As trying to foolishly fight regardless, just exposes them for what they all are, warts included.

“[those who slither in the dark] are looking down on us. They think we cannot touch them. But the closer we get to them, the less true that becomes.” - Hubert, in Darkness Beneath the Water.

But enough negativity! Let's get to what the Slitherers are truly good at. My reasoning behind why TWSITD were miscasted, given a role they would never be able to fill its shoes comfortably, is because Three Houses’s stories not only show them at their worst, but also at their best. And what is what they excel at, you might wonder?

It is Terrorism. Just, flat out terrorism at its finest.

In execution, by the Agarthans using their anonymity shtick as a strength, they are allowed to:

A. Appear out of nowhere to cause havoc and quickly vanish once the job’s done. And-

B. Confuse and worry the hell out of the enemy.

Arguably the stand out examples of this is Part 1 of White Clouds, and Part 2 of Three Hopes’ Scarlet Blaze route. Whether it is to test out and perfect their “experimental assets” intended to be used by the Empire once Edelgard declares war on Garreg Mach in the former’s case, or by providing the perfect stage for Ferdinand’s father, Duke Aegir, to attempt a coup against Edelgard’s Empire in the latter, TWSITD’s surprise appearance completely disrupts the direction the plot was going for, and forces the characters to handle them directly in the hopes of - somehow - foiling their end goal, just for the group to vanish soon after, leaving everyone with a sense of unease, worry, and fear, upon witnessing they are not dealing with just some random group of villains anymore.

Simply put, “those who slither in the dark” are at the top of the game when they are causing terrorism and exploiting their enigmatic aura of theirs. So it’s a shame that Three Houses still ultimately decided to have the organization stick to their “puppeteers” shtick no matter what, even if it is for the sake of deconstructing the idea or in an attempt to try to make them work somehow.

Finally, while I feel the point this article’s been trying to make has already been made, I still wanna wrap things up by addressing the nasty side of TWSITD: their one-dimensional malice.

While Fire Emblem as a franchise is no stranger to cartoonishly evil antagonists, never before the Agarthans have we gotten an entire major faction with not even a trace of nuance. In a series where major villainous factions have done stuff like human sacrifices and child hunts, there has been always someone that either: can display basic decency; can be recruited and allowed work off their bad karma; or had long since defected the group, and might try to help the playable characters in some way. Heck, archetypes like the Camus exist because people have noticed some conventions are used a lot for the sake of giving the enemy-side some nuance, with varying degrees of success and reception.

The Slitherers by comparison, get none of that. And in spite of it… I feel it may be on purpose.

Let me remind everyone for one last time, what the Slitherers' backstory and shared character traits are:

Their background can be summed up as a “millennial legacy of hate which willingly isolates from society as a whole”. Also-

Displaying hubris and xenophobic tendencies appears to be an unwritten rule for every one of its members.

Considering these two facets, I just can’t help but wonder if the 3H writers drew the line with the TWSITD as far as nuance goes simply because, as far they themselves were concerned, those who hurt others due to a sense of entitlement, superiority, and hate, are beyond saving. And I say this because ever since last year, this exchange from Azure Gleam has been in my mind a lot as of late:

Cornelia: As for your loyal knight and the former Duke Fraldarius… They're certainly giving it all they have, but a paltry force that size will hardly buy them any time. And once we've wrung the life from them, you'll be next. How tragic it'll be, facing your beloved citizens for the final time with a noose around your neck. Dimitri: You know, I almost appreciate seeing such bold-faced sadism. There's not a hint of nuance to it. Cornelia: Is that a compliment I hear? You'll make a lady blush if you're not careful. - Event: Behind the Mask

I’ve been figuring out how to complete this whole thing for over a month now and oh man I am so glad I can finally move on from it. Now the only thing that remains is to thank y’all who checked and read this huge wall of text to the end.

To finally close things off, I have a few last questions for everyone: What are your honest thoughts on “those who slither in the dark”? What did you expect of them? Did they surprise you? And would you improve on them if given the chance (and how)?

[yeehaw-in-magic-space]

Session 2 Recap: Part 3/3

Prometheus and Chuck both went silent and still for a time. Neither of them had wanted trouble today, and they’d found trouble like nothing they’d ever seen. Geraldine wasted no time in whipping out her notebook and recounting every detail she could remember of the battle. Dolly saw this, and immediately began to follow in her example. The two kept very different notes: Dolly was making a web of information and events in an attempt to put together details in conjunction with rumors she’d heard. Geraldine recorded the whole thing in a dreamy, narrative focused journal entry. She recorded the details of her first heroic adventure, which Chuck pressed her about when he arrived at their table with as many bottles of alcohol as he could snatch up from the bar at once. Geraldine took the opportunity to tell the party about her favorite novels: The Dashing Adventures of Mike Hawk, a daring and promiscuous cowboy who roamed the frontier worlds in search of love, justice, and good fortune. She explained her motivations were to write an adventure of her own, and live out her fantasies of being just like the esteemed Mr. Hawk. 

No one quite knew what to say, so Geraldine urged the conversation forward. She interrogated each of the party members about their motivations. Chuck explained that he was simply escorting Dolly to the nearest satellite containing an Information Station, which he had promised to do in exchange for the interview. Dolly revealed that she hadn’t written a single question for the interview, and wasn’t honestly terribly invested in it. She was out taking whatever jobs "Choice Information" would pay her to do, and doing them with as little effort as possible. 

Prometheus did not reveal his intentions heading out to the edge of the frontier, but he did unknowingly reveal far more interesting information. While dodging the question, he let his true accent slip. He did not have the voice of a smooth talking snake oil salesman, but in fact, the accent of an upper-class citizen from the core worlds (though this combined with his scarlet eyes to raise more questions than it did reveal anything).

Chuck took this opportunity to remove the breathing apparatus he had been wearing so that he could drink. He revealed himself as a Thri-Kreen, a rare ant-like species of alien that none of the rest of the party had ever encountered before. No one asked any follow up questions, as this was not the strangest thing they had been forced to deal with today, and no one said a word as his insectoid tongue found its way to the bottom of one of the whiskey bottles. 

Dolly made her way to the bar to find something else to drink and discovered that the dining car was remarkably well stocked. There were supplies for serving ice cream sundaes, milkshakes, sarsaparilla, and meals both fresh and canned. The place was full of food and drink, enough to last them a few planetary visits. This combined with its ability to vaguely function as a ship to make the dining car appealing as a base of operations, at least until they could all safely go their separate ways. 

The ship began to make a rough entry into the atmosphere of the nearest planet: a prairie world that had one island of farmland and was otherwise covered in frigid saltwater. Chuck landed them as gently as possible in the outskirts of a town, and each of them split up into different parts of the car to get some rest. Their journey was far from over, but for now, they were safe.

[adickaboutspoons]

AH hahaha - oh @tvshowspoilers an excuse to ramble about costuming significance? Don't mind if I do, my v. dear.

So going from full gloves to half gloves is something that had me scratching my head too, especially since they were apparently so important to the Krakening that they got a close up during the magic girl transformation sequence. Twice.

From a Doylist perspective, it might just be that they forgot (like the way the Lighthouse painting and the Blackbeard lithograph carried so much narrative weight last season and now are conspicuous for their absence). But if we allow that it was a conscious decision, it’s helpful to look at what full vs. half-gloves represent. Full gloves represent Ed cutting himself off from human connection - the icy detachment of a man determined to wield control with an iron grip. 

Half-gloves, then, represent a tentative willingness to reach out - to touch and be touched - but with a measure of protective cover in place. But whereas in the pre-Krakening, that manifested in Ed making healthy connections - bonding with the crew, allowing himself to become softer, and, of course, falling in love with Stede - in the post-Krakening era, Ed is still reaching out, but as a form of self-harm. It’s all a simulacrum of connection, but specifically engineered to alienate and isolate Ed, and drive the crew’s resentment and fear to eventually culminate in murderous intent. He technically offers the crew sustenance in the form of cake, but it’s not something that would actually nourish them - stimulation in the form of rhino horn and raids, but it’s nothing like enrichment - communication, but only in the form of intimidation. And it’s not just the crew - in a way, Ed is also reaching out to Ned in another bid of passive suicidality - breaking his consecutive raid record while knowing that Ned’s a torturing psychopath in an attempt to goad him into painful and lethal retaliation.

But then we also get no-gloves! The times when Ed is open and unguarded or longing for a genuine connection. We see it in the first season at the French Party Boat where the way to “win” the interaction is by enticing the toffs to find him charming, but ultimately, the real connection he craves happens later with Stede in the moonlight, and then again on the beach when he confesses that Stede makes him happy and kisses him. With the second season, we see it as soon as Ed has recovered from his suicide attempt. In fact, the scene with the bunny goes out of its way to draw our attention to Ed’s bare hands. After being exiled, he is SO desperate for connection, ANY connection, that he latches on to the very first living creature he stumbles across. When the rabbit is so cruelly snatched away, he immediately latches on to Mary and then Annie, even knowing that they are kind of psychos and maybe not the most secure social safety net. But ultimately, it’s once again Stede who offers genuine connection. From then on, Ed is without gloves for the rest of the season, even after he re-dons his Blackbeard leathers.

With the loss of the cravat, I think kind of the opposite is going on. Obviously they remembered it, or they wouldn’t have brought it back just for Ed to put it on when he expected to die. So its removal had to be a conscious choice. Because, the cravat is positively overflowing with tasty symbolism  - it’s the one of the extremely few things of Stede’s that Ed conspicuously chooses to keep and therefore a reminder of the man himself, but during the Kraken transformation, I think Ed keeps it on because it’s a PAINFUL reminder; an albatross around his neck - a noose to steal his very breath. But ultimately, even a painful reminder is a reminder, and he can’t control whether it might sometimes also bring him comfort. So, I think in this case, what we’re looking at is denial as a form of self-harm. We see from his reaction to Izzy in 2x1 that Ed won’t tolerate even oblique references to Stede (“As a crew?”). I think this is indicative of his more generalized approach to the idea - refusing to allow himself (or anyone else) to dwell on Stede. So when we see him dwelling with his dollies, I think that’s the turning point - Ed tipping them overboard is his him making up his mind; a lover’s suicide. And THAT’S why he allows himself to put the cravat back on when he steers them into the storm.

Once he’s reunited with Stede, obviously he doesn’t need a reminder anymore - the man himself is right there. So Ed can let go of the of the negative connotations that go along with the cravat - no more albatross. Just Stede.

[solalunar-eclipse]

Sonic Boom - S3E10

Episode title: The Obligatory Band Episode

Summary: When a boy band competition comes into town, Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles immediately decide that they have to enter as Dudeitude. The only problem: their other two teammates who aren't allowed to join...

AO3 Link

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[Episode opens on a shot of a poster.]

BATTLE OF THE (BOY) BANDS!!!! the poster proclaimed, using far more exclamation points than were necessary. All boy bands (and ONLY boy bands) welcomed to join and compete for the prize of 10,000 rings and a record deal!! 

A crowd of villagers had quickly gathered around the sign—which of course soon drew the attention of Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles, who had been wandering around the village chatting happily about nothing in particular. (No, literally, they were discussing what the word ‘nothing’ meant to each of them.)

“Hey! What’s going on here?” Tails asked, taking to the air in an effort to better see what was making everyone else so interested. 

He studied the poster, growing more and more excited by the second. “Sonic! Knuckles! Check it out!”

“Whoa!” Knuckles cried. “Are you guys thinking what I’m thinking?”

Sonic’s smile widened. “I think I am thinking what you’re thinking….”

“It’s Dudeitude time!” all three shouted at once.

[They snatch up the poster so that it fills the camera frame, leading to a transition where the camera zooms back out on all three of them smiling hopefully.]

[Camera cuts to Amy, sitting on her couch with a distinctly unimpressed look on her face.]

[Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles’s smiles take on a rather panicked quality, before the opening sequence begins.]

…

[The same intro sequence plays as last time, complete with a reluctant Shadow.]

[Eggman’s villain reveal starts off similarly to that of the second episode, but the malfunction is caused by most of the minor villains turning the lights on and photobombing him. The green screen glitches out, leading to green and choppy outlines around each villain, before Eggman chases them out while shaking a wrench at them angrily.]

[The sequence then continues on, before ending with the title of this week’s episode.]

…

“What is it, Ames?” Sonic asked, the smile slipping off his face. 

“Seriously?” She sighed. “Why aren’t they letting any girls participate at all?”

“Oooh, yeah.” Tails winced. “That’s kinda rude, I guess.”

“I don’t know about rude—it’s mostly just downright juvenile.” Amy sniffed disapprovingly.

The fox and Sonic both turned to stare at Knuckles. “Man, I thought you knew about this kind of thing!”

The echidna cringed. “I mean…I dunno, guys, I can’t know everything all the time! Gimme a break, okay?”

Amy nodded approvingly. “That’s very true. There’s always more to learn!”

In the background, Sonic winced, more at the concept of learning from Amy Rose than learning, full stop.

“We don’t have to compete, then.” Tails said decisively.

Sonic and Knuckles were fully prepared to agree, but then they saw Amy’s determined expression.

“I have an even better idea.” she explained. “You guys are going to compete—and win—with a girl as your manager.”

“Uh…hang on, who would be our manager?” Sonic asked, frowning in confusion.

Amy facepalmed. “Me. I’d be the manager.”

Sonic grinned sheepishly. “Ohhhhh.”

“What’s a manager?” Knuckles added.

“They’re a person who helps organize all of your paperwork and performance dates.” she explained.

At that exact moment, Sticks kicked the door open and rushed inside, a pair of binoculars dangling from her hand. “You guys are hanging out? Without me?!?” (This of course ignored the fact that she was implied to have been watching them ‘hang out’ in Amy’s house for an indeterminate amount of time.)

“Oh, Sticks!” Amy’s expression brightened up considerably. “Do you want to work on the lighting for the show? There aren’t any government agents, aliens, or ghosts involved, I’m afraid, but it’ll still be worth your time!”

The badger frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but that sounds boring.”

It took two minutes of explaining (and convincing) to get the idea across to her, but the moment the words ‘fight the patriarchy’ came into the conversation, she was onboard instantly. As a matter of fact, the word ‘fight’ probably would’ve been enough all on its own.

After that, the entire team ended up so excited that they spent the rest of the day planning out a dance and lights routine to some of their music. By the time they were worn out and crashed in various places around Amy’s house, there was paper strewn everywhere, but the general concept for the show was complete.

Just before Sonic fell asleep, using the couch armrest as a makeshift pillow, an idea came to him.

I wonder if Shadow would want to join Dudeitude….

…

Of course, the next day, they ran into a (not at all plot-convenient) problem almost immediately. When Amy sent Tails over to get the forms necessary to enter the competition, he found that there was one minor issue with their entire plan.

All competing bands were required to have at least four members.

Amy rubbed her eyes in frustration. “I can’t believe we’re going to have to rework our entire performance routine!”

Tails sighed. “That’s the least of our worries. We can’t even compete right now!”

Suddenly, Sonic dashed into the room, his arms laden with to-go chili dogs from Meh Burger. “Hey guys, how’d it g—oh. What happened?”

Amy looked up at him sadly. “We need four members in the band to compete. And right now we only have three!” she cried.

“Oh! Well, if that’s all, then,” Sonic said, putting down his food and dusting his hands off at sonic speed, “I know what to do!”

And with that, he vanished in a blur of blue.

…

A black ear twitched as the telltale zooming sound of Sonic’s running reached its owner. Shadow straightened up from what he’d been doing—adjusting a new bed frame in his room—and walked out to the front of his cave, wondering what could bring Sonic here in such a hurry. Knowing him, it could be anything from just wanting to race to the world actively ending.

“Shadow! Great, you’re here. Listen, we have an emergency.” Sonic said quickly.

“An emergency?” he asked, concerned. “What kind? Is it the doctor?”

Sonic shook his head. “No, worse! Listen, we need you to join our band, like, now, or else we won’t be able to compete in the battle of the bands competition.”

Shadow stared at him blankly. “I…I think your definition of ‘emergency’ is somewhat different than mine.”

“But will you do it?”

“Let me see what you have planned first.” Shadow sighed.

Sonic did a rapid fist-pump. “Yes!”

Shadow rolled his eyes. “I didn’t actually agree to join yet.”

“But you did agree to look at the plans, which means you’re considering joining.” Sonic said smugly.

Shadow muttered “You’d better not make me regret this.”, but with that, they took off, leaving twin trails of blue and red behind them.

…

“So let me get this ludicrous plan straight. You want me to join your rock band, which involves playing on absurdly designed instruments and wearing insanely sparkly suit jackets, in order to win a competition exclusively for boy bands. That way, we can rub it in the organizers’ faces when they discover that we have multiple girls—or rather, one girl and one demigirl—working with us.” Shadow said slowly.

“Yes!” Amy exclaimed. “We’ll come out onstage after the others have claimed their prizes, and then we’ll take the most smug bow in the history of bows.”

“I still think that a speech calling out the secret underground alien-cryptid alliance would’ve been better.” Sticks muttered, rolling their eyes.

Shadow frowned. “And why can’t either of you—” he gestured to Amy and Sticks— “just be part of the band anyway? It isn’t as if they’d know whether or not the band was made up of all boys until the concert.”

“Actually, they would.” Tails explained. “There’s a rehearsal the day before that all band members have to be there for.”

“Ugh…” the hedgehog groaned. “Whose idea was it to join this stupid competition?”

“Well, first it was me and Sonic and Tails.” Knuckles said. “And then we were ready to quit when we realized they didn’t let girls in, but Amy said we should do it with her plan, so we did.”

Shadow leaned back against the couch for a moment and closed his eyes. “….fine. I’ll do it. But this is a one time thing, understand?”

“Alright!” Sonic cheered. “Now we just need to find you one of those suit jackets!”

Soon enough, the team had scrounged up Sonic’s spare outfit and handed it over to Shadow, at which point he began to regret every single one of his life choices.

“No. No way. This is utterly disgusting.” he snapped, holding the offending garment as far away from himself as possible. “I will never, ever—”

[Cut to a shot of Shadow standing stiffly while wearing the jacket.]

“This is humiliating.” he grumbled.

Amy winced. “Is this seriously what you guys wore while saving the town from Justin Beaver?”

“It was the best we could come up with on short notice, okay?!” Sonic cried defensively.

“You know what?” Shadow said. “Fine. Fine. I’ll wear it. But don’t you think that we should each customize our own outfit instead of all looking the same? After all—wait. You’re not doing this as…that tacky pop group, are you?”

“Nonono, don’t worry, we’re doing this as Dudeitude, not Dreamboat Express.” Sonic explained hurriedly, trying to stave off Shadow’s growing expression of horror.

“Actually, that sounds like a really good idea!” Tails said excitedly, pulling out his own jacket. “I wanna put, like, cool gear cufflinks on mine—let me go get the Build-It Box!”

[A montage ensues, complete with lots of tacky fashion choices and comical mistakes, including (but not limited to) a patch that was supposed to say ‘Knuckles’ but instead came out as a strangely detailed fabric replica of the echidna himself.]

[The team’s brief experiment with differently-colored jackets was also strongly vetoed by Shadow after they all came out of the box in different varieties of neon.]

Eventually, the three original members of Dudeitude had their new outfits all set and ready to go.

Sonic’s white jacket now had red and gold stars around the cuffs and hem, while Tails’s had—as he had mentioned—gear-shaped cufflinks and buttons with a crossed wrench and screwdriver stamped into them. He had also added golden sequins along the back spelling out ‘Prower’, akin to a sports jersey.

Knuckles’s jacket, on the other hand, had all sorts of patches sewn onto it, including a barbell, a circular one labeled ‘Weightlifting Champion’, and multiple stylized green emeralds. He seemed awfully proud of it, enough so that Sonic and Tails had to keep preventing him from flexing in front of the mirror so that he wouldn’t rip a seam.

When Shadow walked out, though, his jacket didn’t appear to have changed at all. Sonic frowned. “I thought you were the one who wanted us to change our outfits up!”

Shadow smirked. “I did.” he said proudly. “Tails, do you happen to have an ultraviolet light handy?”

The fox’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t.”

Shadow’s smirk widened.

Tails scrambled to get his biggest UV light, shining it on Shadow’s jacket…and then everyone gasped at what they saw. Blue and purple threads wove throughout the entire garment, creating a variety of geometric patterns that almost seemed to shift as Shadow moved. 

Amy looked over at Sticks, smiling excitedly. “Hey Sticks?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you feel about adding some black light to the show?”

…

It had been decided that Shadow would play the bass guitar, since Knuckles was already handling the drums and Tails had taken on the keyboard/synthesizer role. Sonic, of course, was more than excited to use his two-necked guitar, tearing through riffs and fills with ease.

They’d had a week to practice before the rehearsal, and it became clear that Shadow had taken the time to learn every single song, as he played chord after chord perfectly. Despite his skill, his backup vocals were barely audible, and he outright refused to sing alone at any point in the show.

This only encouraged the entire team to try even harder to get him to change his mind, of course.

In the end, it was Amy who got lucky enough to hear him first—they’d all stayed behind to watch the other bands play so they could get an idea of the competition, but she and Shadow had been the only ones with enough patience to suffer through three poor performances in a row. 

Their only real competition was a new band made of some boys whose personalities had seemed almost custom-built to sell well with fans, run by Justin Beaver himself as part of his new reality show. They had decent vocals and a generic backing track, but the test audience ate it up. The team had nearly suspected them of using mind-control technology again, but a quick reconnaissance mission on Tails’s part showed that the audience’s reactions were legitimate.

Somehow.

After the rehearsal had finished, the organizers left most of the microphones set up so that they’d still be in place for the concert tomorrow night. Amy had been getting ready to leave (and maybe snag a couple of the complimentary refreshments to take home when nobody was watching), when she noticed some movement out of the corner of her eye.

Quickly, she crouched behind a conveniently placed bush just as Shadow stepped forward on the stage.

He cleared his throat, looked around nervously, and then began to practice his backing vocals in a small, awkward voice. At first, his voice was too weak to carry very far, but when he saw nobody around, he began to relax.

His speaking voice was raspy and clipped. But when he sang, all of that fell away, and his vocals became smooth and deep, nearly making Amy gasp.

Quickly, she texted her friends and told them to come over discreetly, but also right now.

The moment they showed up, crawling into the bushes next to her, their faces immediately transformed into nearly identical shocked expressions.

“Is that Shadow?!” Sonic hissed under his breath.

Amy rolled her eyes. “Who else would it be?”

They watched in silence after that, still stunned. Shadow’s singing voice…well, it really couldn’t be described as anything other than beautiful.

The moment he finished, Knuckles shot upwards and began to clap excitedly. All of the others whispered at him furiously and yanked him down behind the bush, while a decidedly uncomposed shriek came from the general direction of the stage.

After a moment, Shadow barked, “Who’s there?”

The entire team stood up awkwardly, wincing. Sonic smiled nervously. “That was really good!”

The other hedgehog’s hands tightened on the microphone stand until his fingers nearly left imprints in the metal. “Sure.” he sneered sarcastically.

“No, seriously, it was amazing!” Tails cried.

“Yeah, it really was.” Sticks added.

“I loved it!” Amy exclaimed.

Shadow’s grip loosened slightly. “You mean it?”

The team rushed onto the stage, gathering around him. “Yes!” Knuckles exclaimed. “It was so cool!”

“Ah. Well then.” Shadow said tightly.

But as the team watched, his mouth curled into the tiniest of smiles.

…

On the night of the performance, all four members of Dudeitude had the jitters. Tails was making sure all of their equipment was accounted for the tenth time in a row, Knuckles was doing his best to curl up into a ball, Sonic was literally shaking in place, and Shadow was grinding his teeth and hissing at anyone who came near him.

“Alright!” Amy declared, clapping her hands together. The boys all promptly hit the roof, before turning to stare at her with various degrees of fear and frustration.

“Listen,��� she continued, lowering her voice, “I’m so proud of all of you. You guys did a great job in the practice sessions, and you’re sticking it to all of these stupid organizers, too.”

Knuckles sighed. “Yeah, but not as much as the people out by the front fence.”

What he meant, specifically, was the all-girl band protesting the entire competition out front by playing their own songs loud enough to be heard from the rehearsal tent. They had camped out long before the concert had begun and were showing no signs of flagging, no matter how many people tried to drive them off. 

(They also had a sign in front of them that read If you can be petty, so can we.)

Amy shook her head. “Everybody has different ways of dealing with these kinds of people. Just because ours isn’t as loud as theirs doesn’t make it any worse.”

“Right, but what happens if we’ve put in all this effort and don’t win?” Tails asked nervously, holding open one flap of the tent and gesturing to the band run by Justin Beaver. They were doing, quite frankly, a really good job, and the judges seemed almost won over already.

Amy frowned. “Well, I’m still glad I got to do this with all of you anyway. The only way we could’ve done this wrong is by giving up or by not having me and Sticks participate at all.

“And,” she added, “I’m also glad we now know that Shadow is an amazing singer!”

The hedgehog in question looked away briefly, embarrassed.

Sticks darted into the tent suddenly. “It’s time.” she whispered dramatically. 

(Shadow and Sonic had to do their absolute best not to impale the walls of the tent with their quills at that.)

…

“And now, the final band of the night…it’s…Dudeitude!!”

The announcer’s voice rang in the ears of all four band members as they took to the stage. Sonic grinned at Knuckles. “You ready, dude?”

“Yeah, dude!” he whispered back, practically bouncing in his seat.

Tails leaned over to tell Shadow, “They’re always nervous until they hit the stage. It’s the waiting that’s the worst for them.”

“Oh. Good for them.” he muttered tersely, obviously not experiencing the same relief.

“You’re gonna do great!” Sonic cheered under his breath, smiling at Shadow in the darkness.

He didn’t even have time to react before the lights flashed on and the drumbeat began.

Shadow played his music almost entirely on autopilot, his hands moving more on memory than knowledge. He performed without thinking, doing the choreography (or the stripped-down version of it that he’d demanded they give him, because he didn’t dance) while staring blankly out at the audience. He’d never been more grateful that he was joining the band in its rock incarnation instead of when it was a full-on pop band.

As they entered the breakdown of the final song, where Sonic vocalized solo over chords from Shadow’s guitar, that autopilot ended up betraying him. Shadow had, on his own time, tried out singing along to this part in the test track an octave lower, because he’d found it enjoyable. It hadn’t been made part of the performance plan, and if he’d been in his right mind he never would’ve done it, but as it was…

…well, the audience ate it up.

They finished their song, accepted the audience’s applause (with much whooping and bouncing up and down from the original trio), and filed offstage, all while Shadow was still processing the performance.

The moment they entered their tent, Shadow’s knees gave out and he collapsed abruptly onto a chair.

“Whoa, Shadow, are you okay?” Sonic asked, hurrying over to stand next to him, his hands hovering nervously over his former rival’s shoulders.

“I sang.” Shadow wheezed. “I wasn’t even supposed to sing then, and…”

“It was incredible!” Amy gasped, stars in her eyes. “That was such a good idea!”

“So…I didn’t ruin the show?” he asked, looking up with a carefully blank expression.

“Honestly, I think you just won it.” Sticks said, poking their head into the tent. “I mean, the crowd is still shrieking.”

Shadow’s limbs went obviously loose with relief. “So you’re not upset.”

[The entire team suddenly locks eyes, remembering Shadow mentioning that his last brush with friendship ended badly.]

“No, no, no!” Amy cried. “No, not at all! Honestly, I’m glad you decided to sing.”

Sonic smiled at him. “It sounded amazing.”

Shadow shook his head, stunned. “I was so out of it up there. I barely even realized what had happened until I was done.”

Tails’s eyes widened. “Wait, does that mean you were practicing the song like that this whole time?”

“…maybe?”

“You should’ve told us!” he exclaimed. “I would’ve done all the sound prep so the audience could hear you better!”

Shadow looked cautiously down at his skates. “Thank you, but I’m alright.”

“You at least have to do karaoke sometime with us then!” Knuckles insisted cheerfully.

The entire team looked so excited that Shadow found himself smiling wryly against his will. “Well, I guess, if you insist…”

“The awards are starting!” Sticks called from the entrance to the tent. Then they frowned. “Wait, when did I become the responsible one here?”

All four members of Dudeitude took to the stage, along with the other bands. They were forced to jostle with their rivals for room, leading to many dirty looks and a minor shoving war. However, they all stood up straight when the announcer called, “Now, the winner of the competition is…”

“…Dudeitude!!”

Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles all screamed at top volume, making Shadow flinch before watching his bandmates with a smirk. As soon as they had received a check for the money and a guaranteed record deal, however, two things happened.

First, Amy and Sticks raced out onto the stage to celebrate too, completely forgetting their plan in the process. The audience went absolutely silent upon seeing them—and then burst out into cheers that were even louder than before. Sticks and Amy stared at the crowd for a moment, before smiling, putting their arms around each other, and taking their well-earned bow.

Then, the entire team all gathered together in a group huddle for a minute. Sonic whispered something to them that made their eyes widen and the hero bounce in place excitedly.

He snatched up a microphone and ran to the edge of the stage. “Hey guys, listen. All of us loved playing for you, and we had so much fun tonight. But, uh, being a hero is kind of a full-time job, and most of us already have enough on our plates. So…I wanna give this to a band who’s really gonna use it. A band who actually performed tonight, but never got judged, and a band who we all think was probably both one of the best ones here and who deserves this more than anything.”

“Yo! Ladies out front!” he yelled, getting the attention of the band who had been protesting the event all night.

“Yeah?!” their leader, a chipmunk dressed in a blue vest and white leggings, yelled. 

“Can you guys come up here for a sec?”

The crowd parted to let the band through as they came to the stage. It was composed of the aforementioned chipmunk, a lynx in a pink dress, a lemur wearing all yellow, and a wolf who looked like she’d stepped off the pages of a goth/punk magazine.

“What is it?” the chipmunk asked.

“Hey, uh, do you want this?” Sonic said, offering her the prizes.

The crowd was completely silent.

“Why are you giving this to us?” the lynx asked softly.

“‘Cause we think you guys sounded great, and you really deserved to be included in this competition. And now that it’s ours, we get to do what we want with it. So we thought you should have this.” he explained.

Tails gave a thumbs-up from behind him, and Knuckles smiled encouragingly. Cautiously, the chipmunk stepped closer and took the prizes. “What’s the catch?” she asked.

“No catch. Seriously.” Sonic told her.

She watched him skeptically for a moment, before holding out a hand to shake. “Thank you.” she said quietly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you—my name’s Sally, by the way.”

“Nice to meet ya!” he said cheerfully. “Name’s Sonic.”

“These three behind me are Nicole, Tangle, and Whisper.” she added, pointing at the lynx, lemur, and wolf in succession.

“Hey! Thank you, like, so much!” Tangle cheered, appearing directly next to Sally. “Man, we’ve been dying for a chance to do something like this for ages!”

Whisper smiled in agreement.

“Uh….” Soar the Eagle (the reporter covering this event) stammered, trying to regain his bearings, “Well then, how about a picture with the…two winners of this competition?”

[The camera flash obscures the screen for a moment, before revealing a picture of Dudeitude (plus Amy and Sticks) and the other band. Most of them are smiling, and Shadow has mustered up a moderately friendly neutral expression for the camera.]

[roll credits]