#Baby Feet Vector

[jobforhom-blog]

[mushroom-for-art]

@distortionmewtwo Lucifer@Vector:

The big horned mew hovered in the air, gazing down at Vector with undisguised judgement. "Just what are you supposed ta be? Mew? Mewtwo? Some Meowth's hairball? You look like what you'd get if someone threw an algae-choked fishtank and moldy bread into a blender! Hah!" He did a lazy little roll in the air, sneering down at Vector. An eager, evil dare in his eyes for them to retaliate.

The strange creature hunched over watching the horned other with expression and body language that clearly read as pure terror and uncertainty her eyes glued to the floating individual as he loomed over her sneering and mocking.

However when he didn't strike nor more too quickly her ear like horns straightened slowly no longer back in fright turning if anything to inquisitiveness as she shifted her body slowly though still watching him to crouch using one hand to stabilise herself as her head slowly tilted to one side.

She blinked slowly in a manner that indicated she may not have even understood what he had been saying, or was choosing to not acknowledge it her tail moving and swaying lifting to rest on the top of her head two of the spikes sticking up while the third morphed back into the jelly like substance of her tail as she curiously mimicked his horns, at least the best she could.

Imitation is the most sincere form of flattery or so they say, though it could've been read otherwise. Foolishly perhaps, she seemed a bit fascinated by him now as her tail fell back down to resting on the floor, she lifted her body just enough from her crouch to curiously tap at one of his hooves as though seeing if it was real and not just a unique shaped paw, idly grabbing one of the points between her digits making little curious chirps and cooes in her throat.

[thevegandarkelf]

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Thirty-Three

Masterlist

AO3 link

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3 (18+ only, MDNI)

We got a lotta fluff up in this one

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death, PTSD

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family, her bestie, Jake, and Adam (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing. I think that's it for this one!

Word count: 4.1k

In the few days after my encounter with Adam, Daryl had been extra soft with me, somehow more than he usually was. He was insistent on doing anything for me he possibly could, saying the same thing every time I gave him any sort of pushback—“I know ya can do it yaself, but I want to.” It was like real-life princess treatment.

There was a lot of talking and a lot of tears. Sometimes, it would hit me out of nowhere, and I would crumble into a sobbing mess in seconds. Trauma’s funny like that. I always felt so guilty, especially when it interrupted moments with Daryl. Every time, he assured me I didn’t need to apologize and could cry as much as I needed. He never saw it as an interruption, never made a big deal out of it. He’d ask if I wanted to talk or if there was anything I needed, or if I wanted to just cuddle and cry. It was so cathartic to just moan and groan and cry whenever I needed. Exhausting, but cathartic.

Every night, I’d cuddle up to Daryl in bed, my head resting on his chest and arms wrapped around him, with the exception of the one time he had watch late. I’d passed out before he got back, but I stirred a bit when he came in. He tiptoed over to bed and did his best to slide in without waking me. He moved up next to me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer and kissing my face.

“Night Buttercup,” he whispered into my hair.

The following morning, I woke up to Daryl spooning me once again, the warm breath from his soft snoring blowing the baby hairs on my neck and tickling my skin. His arm was wrapped around me tight, holding me snugly against his body. The other arm was under my neck, his strong bicep supporting it like a pillow. His chest rose and fell against my back, creating a very subtle, almost rocking sensation that threatened to lull me back to sleep. But my brain was craving caffeine.

I slipped out from under Daryl’s arm and rolled over to face him. His hair had fallen on his face, and his nostrils on his cute little button nose flared ever so slightly as he snored. His lips were parted, just barely, and his breath blew strands of his deep chocolate hair around. I tucked some pieces behind his ear, careful not to disturb his beauty sleep.

I wish phones existed in the apocalypse because this photogenic human’s sleeping face would’ve been my wallpaper in a heartbeat.

There was a bit of a chill in the air, so I grabbed Daryl’s shirt off my dresser and put it on, the soft cotton still carrying his warmth. Even though he hadn’t worn it in some time, as I’d stolen it from him weeks ago and he was insistent on me holding on to it since I liked it so much, it still smelled like whiskey and tobacco. It still smelled like Daryl.

I tiptoed out of the bedroom, slowly closing the door behind me. The house was chilly, the cold hardwood floor a bit shocking to my bare feet. I stepped down the stairs and into the kitchen to start a pot. The scent of coffee flooded my system as I cracked the lid off the container of grounds, already providing some relief for my sleepy brain and body.

After it was done & I poured myself a cup, I leaned back against the island, sipping my coffee while thoughts began to swirl around in my barely-awake mind. I was certain, almost 100% certain, that Daryl was going to ask to kiss me the other day, right before Adam showed up. There had been a few occasions recently where I thought he might ask, and I knew the other day would’ve been the moment. But unfortunately, it was ruined by the man that ruined me, and now I was scared he might not ask again for a while. Sure, I could make the first move, but one, I liked it when the man made the first move, and two, Daryl was either very self-conscious or very inexperienced when it came to romance, and I wanted him to feel comfortable. I also couldn’t stop thinking about what Adam had asked and how Daryl had responded. “This your woman?” he had asked, followed by Daryl’s “and if she is?” played on repeat in my brain.

Were Daryl and I a couple? In just about every sense of the word. We clearly knew how the other person felt, it was obvious based on our behavior. It was just a matter of a first kiss and a title.

I heard the familiar creak of the bedroom door hinges, and Daryl came sauntering downstairs, his tousled bedhead flowing around his face. I gave him a smile as I set my cup down next to me, and he came over and scooped me up for a hug, lifting me off the ground just a bit before setting me back down so my feet were on top of his. He ran a hand in my hair and buried his face in the crook of my neck. Every time Daryl hugged me, he clung on to me like it’d been a lifetime since we last touched.

“Well good morning,” I gushed.

“Mornin’ gorgeous.” My cheeks began to turn pink, and I dropped my eyes to the floor for a moment as he kissed my forehead. That greeting was a new one. And oh, how sweet it sounded with his gruff voice. “How ya feelin’?”

“Worn out, but pretty good. Better than I have been recently. How’d you sleep?”

“Always sleep good when I’m next to ya,” he replied. I gave him a soft smile before dropping my eyes back to the floor and biting the inside of my lower lip. Daryl took notice that something was off, just like he always did. “Ya alright? Seems like ya got somethin’ on ya mind.”

I chomped at my lip for a moment in an attempt to soothe my rapidly-evolving anxiety. “Umm, yeah, I do. Can I talk to you?”

“Course ya can,” he assured. I stepped off of his feet and leaned back against the island again. “What’s up?”

“You said something a few days ago that I wanted to ask you about.” I scratched the side of my thumb with my index finger, anxiety creeping into my voice as I asked the question that had been plaguing my mind. “When we were…dealing…with Adam, he asked you a question.” His shoulders tensed slightly, and he dropped his eyes to the floor, looking nervous. Like he knew exactly what I was about to ask. “He asked if I was your woman, and you said “and if she is.” What did you mean by that?”

Daryl kept his eyes on the floor, shifting nervously back and forth on his feet. I craned my neck to look at him. His lips were pursed, like they always were when he was deep in thought. The silence between us seemed to stretch on for hours. My anxiety was on the verge of skyrocketing.

“Was hopin’ to do this differently,” he said in a tone just above a whisper.

“Do what differently?” I asked. I did my best to maintain my composure, as I didn’t want my anxiety to make his even worse. He shifted on his feet again and tucked his thumbs in his pockets before bringing his eyes back up, those stunning blue pools piercing into mine through loose strands of hair.

“Can I kiss you, Vec?”

This was the moment I’d been waiting weeks for.

I averted my eyes to my feet, and a gigantic, silly grin spread across my face. The poker face was gone. All the joy, excitement, and nervous energy coursing through my body was on full display. My knees were weak, and I steadied myself on the island for a moment before they gave out on me.

“Yes,” I gushed as I brought my eyes back to his, “yes, you absolutely can.” His shoulders relaxed almost immediately, and he looked relieved, like he was afraid to hear my answer but was comforted when I said yes.

Like hell I would ever say no to that.

“How do ya like to be kissed?” he wondered. I cocked my eyebrow at him slightly.

“Preferably, with your lips. On mine,” I teased, pointing at him when I said “your lips” and to my face when I said “on mine.” A boyish smile danced across his lips, and a soft, amused chuckle escaped them.

“Ain’t what I meant. What do I do with my hands?”

“What do you mean ‘what do I do with them?’”

“Been a while is all,” Daryl explained. I was sure a man like him was very well experienced in the world of physical intimacy, so while I believed it had been a while, with the experience I assumed he had, I was confused about why he wouldn’t know what to do with them.

“Well, what have you usually done with them when you kissed someone?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and propping one of my feet up behind me against the island.

“Dunno. Like I said, it’s been a while,” he reiterated.

“Well, you can put them on my hips, hold my face, put them on the back of my neck, put them in your pockets—“

“I’m askin’ what you like.” He took a couple of steps closer to me, and I dropped my eyes back to the floor to hide my blushing face.

“Umm, I like my face held,' I said, my voice cracking as that goofy, giddy smile only seemed to grow bigger. He took another couple of steps towards me, closing the space between us, and tilted my face up, taking it in both hands. I was barely able to maintain eye contact as the butterflies in my stomach catapulted up my throat and threatened to fly out of my mouth. I locked my knees to keep myself from collapsing, and I unfolded my arms and draped them around his neck.

“Like this?” Daryl asked. He looked nervous, subtly biting his lip and furrowing his brow, but my obvious joy and giddiness appeared to put him at ease a bit.

“Yeah,” I gushed in a high-pitched, excited tone.

My eyes fluttered closed, and my heart skipped a few beats as his lips finally met mine. My stomach dropped like I was on a roller coaster, and I was seeing stars. Every sweet touch, flirty comment, and longing gaze has culminated into this very moment. Into us, here and now. Nothing else mattered. The world outside of us did not exist in those blissful moments.

After a couple of seconds, my knees became so weak that they gave out, and I quickly caught myself on the island counter. Daryl’s hand swiftly moved to my waist, lifting me back to my feet. He pulled away, an amused smirk forming on his face as I giggled softly.

Only Daryl could make strong, hyper-independent me giggle and crumble like a schoolgirl.

“Ya ok?” he asked.

“Sure am,” I laughed, “you just got me weak in the knees, Dixon.” I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him back, his lips crashing into mine.

His lips were softer than I anticipated, like I was being kissed with rose petals, and those familiar little electric sparks danced between our lips. He was gentle as he kissed me, like I was fine china and would break if he was too rough. His thumb delicately stroked my cheek, which was quickly turning red under his touch. The warmth that had been growing in my ribcage continued to blossom, and I was sure Daryl could feel it radiating off of my chest. His soft breath tickled my skin, and the scent of our coconut shampoo lingered in his hair, adding to the sensory experience. I was unable to keep myself from smiling into our kiss. I felt so safe in his embrace, with his hand snaking further around my waist and pulling me closer to him until we were practically one. It was like nothing could hurt me, like there was no apocalyptic world outside of this little bubble of romance.

To be kissed by him, to be cared for and protected by him, was like something out of a dream.

Adrenaline and ecstasy were pumping through my body, and it was dizzying. I pulled away first, brushing my lips against his for one more soft, quick peck before dropping my head and burying it in his chest, giggling like a middle-school girl who’d just had her first-ever kiss. It hadn’t even gotten hot and heavy, but we were both softly panting, each of us trying to catch our breath.

“Christ, I’ve been waiting ages for that,” I chuckled.

“Ages?” I pulled him by the collar until our foreheads and noses were touching, eyes locked.

"Daryl, I have had the fattest crush on you since I woke up in that dingy cell and you had your crossbow pointed at my face,” I admitted.

It felt so good to finally say that out loud.

"That long, huh?” he teased. He lightly brushed his lips against mine before kissing me again. “Always knew ya had the hots for me.”

“No you did not!” I playfully smacked him on the chest. “How would you know? Did someone spill?”

He gently picked me up by the waist and set me on the island counter, and I scooted back until my knees were at the edge and parted them to allow him to stand in between. “Ya talked ‘bout me to the others?”

“Oh, and you didn’t?” I taunted.

“No one spilled,” Daryl explained, resting his hands on the counter on either side of me and leaning in closer, that amused smirk on his lips once again, “caught ya sneakin’ looks at me all the time.”

The light pink on my cheeks was quickly darkening into a deep crimson. I hung my head in embarrassment. Yes, I’d snuck plenty of looks at Daryl from the moment I’d arrived here. However, until now, I was almost certain he didn’t know about any of them, especially the ones from early on. “But I was so subtle.”

“You ’n I got different definitions of subtle,” he joked.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I wondered, twirling my thumbs around each other, “I’m sure it bothered you."

“‘Cause it didn’t,” Daryl reassured. He placed his fingers under my chin and lifted my head, and I watched his eye dart across my face, seemingly deciding where to kiss me next. He opted for my cheek. “Anyone else’s woulda been a problem, but yours…didn’t mind your eyes on me one bit.” He kept his hand under my chin, dropping his gaze for a moment before blessing my eyes once again with his beautiful baby blues. “Think that’s when I realized there’s somethin’ different ‘bout ya. That ’n how much I liked talkin’ to ya.”

“What about you, my little Georgia peach? How long have you…” I paused, giddiness seeping into my voice, “had the hots for me?”

He looked down for a moment, that smoldering look he had when he was thinking gracing his face. He didn’t say anything, just tapped on my knee before walking away and heading upstairs. I heard a door opening and some rummaging around, and he returned a minute later with his signature angel-winged vest in his hand.

“Put it on,” he instructed, holding it out to me. I cocked an eyebrow, confused, as I took the worn leather garment in my hands.

“Umm, ok.” I’ll admit, I’d wanted to try on Daryl’s vest for quite some time now, but seeing as it was such a special piece to him, I didn’t want to push. I figured if he ever wanted me to wear it, he’d let me know. I flipped the vest around and slid my arms in, adjusting it on my shoulders so it sat just right. It was baggy on me, as it was already a little baggy on Daryl & I had a smaller frame than him, but I loved the feeling of it. He was eyeing me up and down, and I couldn’t help but wonder if this was perhaps a moment he had fantasized about.

Maybe in the future, when I had worked through my own shit, I could steal his vest for more…nefarious purposes.

“Looks a hell of a lot better on you,” Daryl cooed. He took me by his vest and pulled me in for another kiss, this one a little longer than the last. “Now reach in the pocket.”

“The pocket?” I asked. Looking at his vest, it didn’t appear to have any pockets. I felt around the back and sides before feeling something on my chest. I patted the side and flipped it around to reveal an interior pocket sewn into the lining.

When I reached in, my fingers brushed against what seemed to be a folded sheet of paper. I pulled it out and unfolded it, and within a second, I recognized the writing as mine. It was the note I had left Daryl the morning after he brought me Tylenol and water on my second night here, the night after I’d drank wine with my new girlfriends and gotten a bit tipsy. The flirtatious little note thanking him for his kind gesture and wishing him luck on the hunting trip he was leaving for that day. I’d gotten up before him and left it on the counter, and seeing as it was gone when I returned later, I’d assumed he had thrown it away, though I never had the guts to check the trash to confirm.

Turns out he had kept it and was holding on to it in his vest this whole time, carrying it with him everywhere he went.

“Oh…my God,” I gasped, almost speechless. I blinked happy tears from my eyes. “H—h…have you had this on you since you found it?”

“Sure have. Nice to have it when I’m on the road. Reread it a lot,” Daryl said. The happy tears broke free, cascading down my cheeks like waterfalls. I used my sleeve to wipe them away, but they just kept coming. I’d done a lot of stress/healing/sad crying over the last couple of weeks. It felt good to be overwhelmed with happy crying.

“That’s so cute, what the fuck?” I said through broken sobs. I fanned my face with my hand in a pathetic attempt to dry my cheeks, grinning from ear to ear. Seems like Daryl had been interested in me for just about as long as I’d been interested in him, and that thought had me blushing and kicking my feet.

As I folded the paper back up and returned it to its home, I stopped. There was something else in the pocket, but this one didn’t feel like a sheet of paper. It was glossy, smooth…like a photograph.

I pulled the item out and was shocked to see one of the pictures that I kept in the back of my notebook. It was the picture of me from a Renaissance festival, with my blue ballgown, posed perfectly against a tree like the princess I dreamed of being. My jaw dropped, and my eyes grew wide. I would never have expected to find it in Daryl’s possession.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, running my fingers over the now-worn edges of the photograph, “I didn’t even realize this had gone missing.” I held it up to him. “How long have you had this?”

“How long ya think I’ve had it?” he wondered. I knew he wouldn’t have invaded my privacy and gone through my notebook to find it himself, so it wasn’t that. I thought back to when I’d initially shown the photos to Daryl, when he had overnight watch & I kept him company. I thought about showing him each of them, gathering them all and placing them back in my notebook. That was when it clicked.

“Dropping the photos in the watchtower…you did that on purpose, didn’t you?” I asked, waving the picture in front of him.

“I may have,” he confessed. A flattered and amused smile graced my face, and I slid the picture back into the pocket.

“Why didn’t you just ask?” I wondered, “I can assure you I would’ve said yes.”

“Didn’t know if ya’d think it was weird,” he said, a hint of a timid and bashful smile on his face.

“I would’ve been flattered,” I promised.

“Liked having it when I’m out on the road.” Daryl put his hands on my hips and fiddled with the edges of his vest, “like bein’ able to look at ya when I’m gone.”

Every time Daryl went off on an excursion, he was like a soldier going off to war with a photo of his lady love tucked in his uniform to hold him over until he could see her again. It was endearing to think back about all of the trips he had gone on in my time here and know that he had a little piece of me with him. And to know that he wanted to be able to look at my face so badly while he was gone that he concocted a clever little plan to make it happen.

“Keep it,” I said, patting the spot on the vest where the pocket was, “it just sits in the back of my notebook otherwise. You’ll at least get some use out of it.”

Get some use out of it? Christ Vec, get your mind out of the gutter, I thought.

My mind jumped to the thought of the day Jake punched me in the nose and I ended up topless in the infirmary, using my torn shirt to stop my nosebleed. I snickered under my breath at the memory.

“What’s got ya laughin’ like that, sunshine?” he wondered.

“Just thinking how it’s funny that you saw me in my bra before we kissed,” I chuckled.

“For what it’s worth, I didn’t see anything. Not on purpose at least,” he assured. Not that I would’ve minded if he had. I often wore sports bras as shirts. Realistically, there wasn’t much difference between him seeing me dressed like that versus a typical underwire bra.

That wasn’t the only thing on my mind. “Thinking about something else too.”

“What’s that?” he wondered, interlocking his fingers at the nape of my neck, his thumbs pressing against the back of my ears. I brought my eyes to his again, putting my hands on his torso and nervously pulling at and twirling the soft cloth of his shirt around in my fingers.

“You can call me Lydia, if you want. I don’t totally hate how it sounds when you say it. Maybe I like it a tiny bit.” I bit at the inside of my lower lip, blushing and kicking my feet once again, before my voice became a little more serious. “But only when it’s just the two of us. Everyone else only knows me as Vector, and I’d like to keep it that way for now.”

“Well, Lydia, I’m honored,” Daryl practically cooed, drawing my name out as he said it. He tenderly pulled me forward, just a little, before giving me another soft, sweet kiss. Now that the floodgates had opened and the first kiss had happened, he was hardly able to keep his lips off mine. He was obsessed. “Ya got a middle name?”

“Rae.”

His eyes rolled so hard, I thought they’d fall out of his head, and an amused chuckle escaped his lips. “Like a goddamn ray o’ sunshine.”

“Guess my mom knew what she was doing when she picked it,” I laughed, “when I was in trouble, she used to call me Lydia Rae. That one’s off the table.”

“Unless ya in trouble,” he joked.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I reminded, tugging gently at his shirt.

“What question?”

“About what Adam asked you?”

“Right,” he acknowledged. He stroked the back of my neck with his thumbs before running them along the back of my ears, slowly, like how he did when he tucked my hair behind my ears. A soft and subtle smirk appeared on his face. He had an idea. “Well I got watch all day, and I know you’re busy too. I’ll answer ya question tonight. Just don’t be too early gettin’ back.”

“Too early?” I asked. He brought his forehead to mine, doing that thing with his eyes again where he looked deep into my soul.

“Can’t have ya beatin’ me home ’n ruinin’ the surprise.”

Taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley

[tails-boogie-board]

It's my 100th post! It means nothing but I'm sentimental so have some baby!Tails. This one is a bit older, it takes place before the other Chaotix one with Charmy. It also explains why he and Sonic were there in the first place

___

"Nope." Vector said, casually throwing out Sonic's only real lead. "We aren't investigating anything this weird and last we saw him, he was normal. No idea what happened to him."

With a huff, Sonic dropped the orange box on Vector's desk anyway and rolled his shoulder. It was some machine, with Tails' logo in the corner and more importantly, a sticky note with 'vector chaotix tomorow. grab tweezers' still stuck to it.

"Which was?" Sonic asked.

"About 2 days ago." Vector said, and the timeline matched up, "Tails was helping us out. The car got... uh"

"The cops took it!" Charmy announced from the floor, not looking up from his crayons.

"It wasn't the cops." Espio said, sharpening a kunai.

"Uh, yea they were. They had badges 'n everything."

"That didn't make them the police."

"But when we pretended to be cops, we had badges."

Vector sighed, looking up from his desk as the two argued behind him and gestured to the lump of technology.

"It got impounded when we were helping out with Eggman. Tails was givin' us a hand getting it back."

At his name, Tails flew up to the desk to hover next to Sonic. He was holding his drawing close to his chest, but eyed the machine hungrily.

"They always take stuff!"

Vector scooched to the side to give the kid room to land, but Tails just circled curiously.

"He was supposed to stop by yesterday, but we figured something was up." Behind him, Charmy was slowly rising to be taller than Espio.

"That doesn't always mean they're cops, Charmy!"

Tails looked between Sonic and the table and then down at his paper. He dropped to the ground and walked over and Sonic dropped to a crouch instantly.

"What's up, buddy?"

Tails' big eyes got even bigger and he stared up at his brother in awe and Sonic smirked. Rocking on his feet, the kit used his paper to hide his smile before he shook himself down to the tips of his tails.

"Here."

He pushed his drawing at Sonic, not looking away and Sonic inspected the back of the paper for a second longer than he wanted to admit before he took it.

"Hey! Remember what I said, if you throw crayons, he can throw kunai."

And Sonic had seen enough blueprints in his life not to recognize it, even if this one was in crayon. It was for some kinda plane and Sonic's grin softened, Tails never really changed. There was arrows pointing to potential improvements, probably.

His own name grabbed his attention, and on top of the plane was him, with Tails in the cockpit. They were both smiling and he was pretty sure that it was Angel Island in the background, and the Master Emerald wasn't the large red dot on it.

He looked up from the paper and Tails bashfully ducked behind a Tail. Sonic pulled him into a one arm hug and after a second, mused his fur, it was still kit soft. Tails squirmed to get away and Sonic leaned into him, holding him down with his weight, the drawing safely in the air.

The kit dropped to the floor and Sonic followed, hitting his quills on the desk.

Tails. baby. shorter. Right.

"No! No one throws anything, capache?"

He groaned and there was a victorious giggle above him. Sonic rolled over onto his back, picture clutched to his chest. Tails was hovering above him and shot him a thumbs up before he finally fell to temptation and landed on the desk. Taking a moment to collect himself, Sonic looked at the picture again and at the one star in the clouds.

Rolling to his feet, Tails bare twitched an ear. He was busy messing with the thing -though it was technically his so Sonic figured it was fine.

Vector had Charmy under one arm and Espio's wrist in another and they were both arguing. Vector's headphones slipped and bass filled the air and Charmy yelled louder in response.

The desk beeped and all noise stopped.

Sonic's shoulders hiked and he was a step away from grabbing Tails and bolting before he caught up to himself. Tails looked surprised too and pulled away from the machine. A green light was on, but otherwise it looked the same.

"It's doing some weird stuff." Charmy said, floating closer.

Tails pressed the button again and the light turned off.

Espio leaned in close and looked at the machine, Tails pressed the button again and the light flickered on.

"I assume it is some sort of an EMP or it causes some equal disturbance."

Charmy laughed, "Bet it would take off the boot, no problem."

Vector pushed Charmy away and nodded at Tails who cheerfully turned the machine off.

"Hey Sonic, up for some fun?"

[awritingcaitlin]

Magic on Tyrysius

People are born with magic or they're not. Mage babies are usually, though not always, born to other mages, so usually it is not too much of a shock to the parents about how to raise their magically-inclined child.

That said, certain rituals and spells are not taught until kids get older. A whole branch of magic is not taught in Timernis until after a person completes their Citizenship Trials.

But outside of that, magic is innate to the people who are going to have it.

Mages are born with their abilities, they cannot control it. A mage born with many different abilities can choose what they what to hone and specialize in, however.

Most people learn from their parents, or if that's not possible, they find mentors or go to trade-esque schools to learn how to hone their craft. Magic usually runs in families, but any number of situations may have someone finding teachers elsewhere.

Mages come into their magic as a part of growing. Yes, this does mean small children can light things on fire. Sorry to all the parents out there. Most of them are also mages and know how to deal with it.

Magic is usually cast through hands and thoughts. Hands are used to shape and refine the spell. Mages will instinctively put a fine shield between themselves and magic like fire or ice.

More powerful magic may benefit from the use of a wand or staff, or really anything else that can channel magic. Both wood and metal can. Minus aluminum. Aluminum blocks magic and you cannot use magic on aluminum. This in turn made aluminum expensive.

Magic can be channeled through people. Large spells and rituals with several casters will have the "channeler(s)" who craft the spell into being, "batteries" who are there purely to lend more power to the spell, and "redirectors" who send the power to the channelers.

Magic can be cast through feet too, or really any part of the body. Magic can also be cast entirely through the mind with no motion from the body whatsoever. But this takes years of work and practice to achieve.

Battlemages on the field are often completely still, attempting to counterspell the opposing battlemages. This has some soldiers thinking they don't do anything, but anyone in the military long enough knows that battlemage probably saved their life a dozen times over.

With the right parameters, range is almost infinite. Large bodies of water will ground most magic out, however. A person's ability and training plays into the range as well.

Swearing on your power and then breaking that promise is the fastest way to lose your ability to use your magic. It also significantly shortens the lifespan. In some cases, it can even halve it.

Additionally, a mage believing they cannot use magic will also make the ability wane. This has less of an effect on the lifespan, but it will make it difficult, if not impossible, to use that type of magic again in the future.

Magic requires a person or an object to be used. People can directly channel magic into any number of spells. Items can be enchanted with a purpose to do a task or tasks.

However, there are ancient artifacts that everyone assumes were enchanted at some point, never mind that enchantments do tend to decay. Yet they still work perfectly as if enchanted recently. Which begs the question, are they actually enchanted? Or is it something else?

Most objects can be imbued or enchanted. Aluminum being a large exception. Crystals and metals are the most common materials to get enchanted as they are easy vectors. But cloth, some plastics, and even rubber also can be imbued.

Beyond being imbued, objects can be blessed with power by religious clergy channeling divine energy from their gods. They can also be cursed in either of these fashions.

Standard weapons are enchanted for any number of reasons: to be stronger, to not overheat, to be more accurate, etc. There are also weapons that channel magic directly and amplify it.

Magic is used for entertainment and frivolities as much as it is used for tools. It is just a part of life. It can enhance stage shows and add effects that wouldn't otherwise be possible.

Magic isn't a cure-all for diseases. Sure it can help with cures and treatments, but it's not a magic wand that makes all problems go away. You can't time travel with magic either.

The Laws of Magic are basically the equivalent of the Laws of Physics, and are taught in theory but most people just learn by experience.

There are a few rules governing what magic can and cannot be cast. Teleportation is illegal because if the teleporter isn't excruciatingly careful, they will kill themselves and others.

Necromancy is heavily regulated. If you're going to resurrect a person, there needs to be a form of written consent and the brain + brainstem must be intact.

People are trying to regulate weather magic, but so far there aren't enough people agreeing on specifics for it to work.

No magic is considered "evil." Not even necromancy. Someone is "evil" based on their motives and actions, not on the type of magic they use.

Everyone is in control of their own magic, not even gods can make anyone do something.

That said.

Magic brainwashing is a thing. It's a brute force method, however, and if done for an extended period of time, will cause a breakdown of the brainwashed person. Said breakdown will cause them to become relatively non functional.

There are rules and regulations in most countries to prevent this. This does not stop it from happening. Also there are countries and places that do not have these laws.

Psychosubversion, is a subtler brainwashing that works by tricking the brainwashed into thinking they thought of the idea themself. It staves off the breakdown and is much more effective, though it is harder to enact. The Nidtrins use this tactic to gain converts.

[svgart]

Top Selling Crafts to Make with SVG Files

"Creativity knows no bounds when you have the right tools at your disposal. With SVG files, the possibilities are endless." - SVGArt.org

Scalable vector graphic (SVG) files give up a world of possibilities for anyone wishing to establish a craft business or indulge in a pastime on the side. Any artisan will tell you that the designs you choose may make or ruin your creations. Fortunately, SVGART.ORG offers the best royalty-free SVG cuts to fit any style.

This blog highlights some of the hottest craft ideas flourishing thanks to SVG files. Let's take inspiration from creative entrepreneurs lighting up Etsy and craft shows everywhere. Who knows, one of these profitable ventures could be your next big score!

African American SVG Inspired Crafts

One of the crafts that has gained immense popularity in recent times is utilizing African American SVG files to create art and crafts that spread awareness about important social issues. With the social justice movement at its peak, many virtual artists have released free African American SVG cut files related to Black Lives Matter that crafters can use to create meaningful products. Items like tote bags, face masks, posters, and t-shirts featuring powerful images and messages are not only raising awareness but also proving to be top sellers.

Patriotic Crafts with American Flag SVG

With Independence Day and other patriotic occasions around the corner, what can be a better theme for crafting than the American flag? Crafters are finding great success in creating decor pieces, apparel, and accessories using the iconic red, white, and blue colors of the American flag. Sites like SVGArt.org offer a wide selection of free American flag SVGfiles that can be used to cut flag designs on wood, felt, iron-on sheets, and more. From wooden wall art to vinyl decals for water bottles to personalized tote bags—there are endless creative ways to showcase one's patriotism through crafty flag-inspired projects.

Animal Lovers Craft Store with Animal SVG

Animal and pet lovers make up a huge market, and their interest in crafts featuring their favorite animals is always high. Crafters have tapped into this niche by offering personalized pet products, pet portraits, and sustainable plush toys made using Animals SVG files.

Baby Keepsakes Crafts using Baby SVG

New parents and grandparents are always on the lookout for unique and personalized baby gifts and décor items. This makes baby-themed crafts a lucrative business. SVG cut files of adorable baby illustrations including a wide range of baby bottle SVGand baby feet SVG, have enabled crafters to venture into this specialty niche profitably. Websites such as SVGArt.org offer free high-resolution baby SVGs that can be used to create wooden blocks, personalized growth charts, baby shower door gifts, and more. These baby goods crafted from SVGs make for thoughtful gifts and functional home décor appreciated by new families.

Monetizing Craft Skills with SVG

With the demand for personalized and niche crafts only witnessing an upward trend, passion-led crafters can surely monetize their skills by zeroing in on a specialized theme and making high-quality products using free SVGs. Here are some best practices shared by top-earning craft entrepreneurs:

Focus on a unique product line catering to the interests of a specific audience like gamers, new parents, etc. Niche down from general crafts.

Research trending themes/occasions/holidays for crafting inspired by SVGs and plan products in advance.

Give products storytelling names evoking emotions. For example - 'Journey of Life' Framed Print instead of just 'Life Print'.

Cross-promote products on social media platforms frequented by target customers like Instagram, TikTok, etc.

Source high-resolution, professionally-designed SVGs from trusted websites like https://www.svgart.org.

Keep experimenting with new designs and product lines based on customer reviews.

Provide excellent customer service and consider ways to add value, like free digital download with purchase.

With a dedication to crafting and best practices, it is indeed possible to run a successful homemade business by leveraging the creativity of SVG files. So get cracking and unleash your inner entrepreneur!

SVG Crafts - An Endless Resource for Creativity

The possibilities of crafting using SVG files sourced freely from the internet seem endless, thanks to the variety of illustrations and designs released by digital artists. Be it home goods, accessories, apparel or gifts - there exists an SVG to suit every theme and occasion. Sites like https://www.svgart.org/ provide a treasure trove of curated, high-quality SVG files across categories like holidays, hobbies, characters, and more.

[donsvgfile]

My First Mothers Day Baby Boy svg files Cricut Silhouette 1st Baby Feet PNG Sublimation Arrow Hearts

My First Mothers Day Baby Boy svg files Cricut Silhouette 1st Baby Feet PNG Sublimation Arrow Hearts

Mother Day SVG Files, Mommy vector cut files, Holiday SVGs for T-Shirt designs, My First Mothers Day Baby Boy cutting file, Mother's Day svg images for Cricut, Mom DXF for Silhouette Cameo, Mothers Day SVG Designs, Happy Mom Day PNG for Sublimation, Mother Free SVG. Item description: ► This is a digital download, no physical product will be delivered. ► This design comes in a single ZIP file with the following file formats: - SVG cut file for Cricut Design Space, Silhouette Designer Edition, Inksape, Adobe Suite and more. - DXF file for Silhouette users. You can open this with the free software version of Silhouette. - PNG file with transparent background and 300 dpi resolution. ► You can use My First Mothers Day Baby Boy SVG cut files perfectly for your DIY projects and handmade products (t-shirts, mugs, pillowcases, blankets, bags, invitation card, heat transfer vinyl, wall decal, party decorations, home decor, paper crafting, sublimation, crafts, etc). ► Due to the nature of digital files. No any refunds or exchange available here. ► SUPPORT / HELP: If you have any question or need help we are always there for you. You can contact us by going on CONTACT US PAGE and sending us your query. How to Download My First Mothers Day Baby Boy svg files Cricut Silhouette 1st Baby Feet PNG Sublimation Arrow Hearts ► To Download My First Mothers Day Baby Boy SVG Design you need to follow these steps STEP 1: Click on “ADD TO CART” on all the files that you want to purchase. STEP 2: Once you added the files to cart, click the “PROCEED TO CHECKOUT” button and enter your billing details on checkout page. STEP 3: Complete the payment with Paypal or Credit Card. After payment you will be automatically redirected to a Download page where you can download the files. Click on the file to download it. STEP 4: Also you will receive an email from DonSVG.com, this email includes download link, just click on it and your My First Mothers Day Baby Boy images will start downloading automatically. NOTE : If you had chose to create a user account before purchasing, your purchased files will be in the downloads section inside your user account. Get your hands on this lovely "My First Mother's Day" SVG file today and create something special for the new mom in your life. Perfect for use with your Cricut or Silhouette machine, this design is sure to bring a smile to her face and show her how much you care. Thanks For Shopping!! Read the full article

[zaraegis]

THE CUPHEAD SHOW- my class notes

Finally got a bit of time to watch it in between work !!!! Im yelling for a thousand years . Only started jotting down around ep 5 or so- MASSIVE spoilers under read more so watch out! (i know mobile sometimes messes up)

elder kettle is such a malewife i love it

cannot believe everyone is so horny for dice canonically what the fuck jskdj we called it guys-

I wish to gently smooch every single card on that stage and in the dressing room

who runs the world??? imps run the world !!! Love this optimized hell running that Devil has no idea happens at all.

henchman really does the most I love him so much

devildice is OUT

henchdice is IN

why the fuck does mugman know witchcraft (did he STEAL fizzy lifting drinks????)

Quadratus YELLING (hot)

"i knitted you a sweater of my brotherly tears!!!"

put this on my grave and also on my fanfiction kink prediction bingo card

mangosteen mangosteen1!!!!

WHERE DID THEY PULL THAT HOTDOG FROM

local roustabouts bully the devil, he just lets them ajkdjksd

benrey devil benrey devil yesssssssssss give me that cronenberg

office shenanigans

Imps look at the camera like they're in the office

omg,,, henchman is going to murder stickler in miami

keep fucking thinking they're saying 'you've got the eeby deebies" during the theme song adkjdskdjk

LOVE another sweater episode

the devil discovers meditation via painting and then bob rosses it and THEN FANTASIA'S IT

the devil is megamind coded but Vector shaped and I'm conflicted but into it

boo put back the gay coded fence!!

devil is grim with billy and mandy

love cuphead and the devil getting along by being absolute stinkers together

porkrind is So Fucking murderous and i think thats sexy of him

all the murdering tendencies i continually shove onto my dice is really just porkrind and i cannot be happier???

GRIM'S BABIES???? GRIM AS A BABY???

elder kettle silver surfer

elder kettle ready to fucking put them in the GROUND no hesitation omg

OH SHE I LOVE HERRRRRR

PRECIOUS LITTLE TAPDANCING CONMAN

GREY DELISLE??? WHAT A GET

knew she wasn't gonna be retconned into a living being!!!

no wonder she tapdances all the time she's gotta be missing her feet lmao

i'm not saying i play favorites but while they were getting arrested i was pointing out chalice's deep deep heart of gold

in conclusion: this fucked and also was MAD CUTE- can't wait for season 2- watching this saturday morning (and evening and night) really brought back that sat morning nostalgia,,,

[jobforhom-blog]

[ruanbaijie]

MDZS x Myers Briggs Type Indicator [1/5]: The Explorers (SP)

These types are the most spontaneous of all and they also share the ability to connect with their surroundings in a way that is beyond reach of other types. Explorers are utilitarian and practical, shining in situations that require quick reaction and ability to think on your feet. They are masters of tools and techniques, using them in many different ways – ranging from mastering physical tools to convincing other people. Unsurprisingly, these personality types are irreplaceable in crises, crafts, and sales – however, their traits can also push them towards undertaking risky endeavours or focusing solely on sensual pleasures.

Disclaimer: MBTI typing is complex and I am in no way a professional or experienced in it. All this is my personal inferencing based on looking at other lists, reading up on the type descriptions on 16personalities.com, and trying to see where each character fits! I was trying to avoid force fitting one character to each type, so some types have more than one character and some types have none.

References [x] [x] [x] [x]

Flower References

Dandelion https://www.123rf.com/photo_78086575_stock-vector-dandelion-flower-vector-drawing-set-isolated-wild-plant-and-leaves-herbal-engraved-style-illustratio.html

Baby’s breath https://www.nicepng.com/ourpic/u2q8t4t4y3r5r5w7_drawing-babys-breath-png/

Thistle https://www.shutterstock.com/search/thistle+drawing

Sunflower https://www.freepik.com/premium-vector/sketch-floral-decorative-set-sunflower-drawings-black-white-with-line-art-isolated-white-backgrounds-hand-drawn-botanical-illustrations-elements_8206712.htm

[thevegandarkelf]

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Three

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, mention of nightmares

Word count: 2k

“Ok, so Rick, Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, Michonne, very pretty name by the way, and Carol. I think I’ve got it,” I said, pointing to each person as I said their name so I could associate names to faces. I followed the group up the steps and out into the sunshine. I took off my glasses and blew some dust off of the inside.

A teenage boy was sitting outside in the grass. He couldn’t have been older than 14, maybe 15, and he was holding an infant. They couldn’t have been more than 6 months old. I had to push the thoughts out of my head of what the mother must have gone through birthing a baby during the literal apocalypse.

“Carl, this is Vector,” Rick said to the boy. I assumed this was his son. I squatted down to Carl’s level. Carol said some things to Rick that I couldn’t make out before walking off.

“So you cut off Aaron’s foot?” he asked me. I chuckled a little and nodded.

“She saved Aaron’s life, and we can’t thank her enough for that,” Rick corrected.

“I’m a trauma surgeon. Probably the best kind of doctor to have around in a situation like this. It was far from my first amputation,” I told him, “and who is this little one?”

“This is my sister, Judith,” he replied. I cocked my head and admired the little baby in his arms. She just stared at me, wide-eyed, before giggling and waving her hands around at who knows what. ”Or Lil’ Ass Kicker, if you’re asking Daryl.”

“Well, she is adorable.” I stood back up and looked over at Rick, holding a hand up over my eyes to block out the sun. “So Rick, you seem like an authority figure in this place. Where do you want me at?”

“Vector, you’re gonna be sharing that house over there with Daryl,” Rick said, pointing to a house that was just out of my line of sight, “there’s plenty of space for two people.” I felt my heart stop for a moment, and my eyes grew wide. I felt my stomach churn at the thought of sharing a space alone with a man I’d barely met. I rubbed my rope scars.

“You want me where?”

“She’s goin’ where?” Daryl asked. The irritation in his voice was heavy. I could only see his shape in my peripheral, but I could feel the distaste for me radiating off of him. I thought I was going to choke on it.

“Daryl, it makes sense to keep her near the infirmary.” Rick retorted.

“I don’t know, is there like, someone who’s…not a man…that I can stay with?” I asked, then immediately recanted my statement, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be picky. Y’all were gracious enough to let me in, and I can’t thank you enough for that.” I looked over at Daryl, “we’ll make it work.”

“I dunno who 'we' is, but I ain’t the one,” he said. He slung his crossbow over his shoulder and sauntered away. I watched as he dragged his feet across the ground back to his, well now “our” house.

“He’s really not so bad once you get to know him,” Rick assured. I gave him a hesitant face.

“Are you sure? He seems, I don’t wanna be mean, but a little more than just rough around the edges. Will I be, umm,” I swallowed hard, “safe in there? Y’know, since I’m “tiny.””

“As long as you don’t swing first,” Glenn replied.

“Hey Maggie, you don’t, uh, happen to have a hair tie, do you? I had fashioned one out of gauze and a rubber band, but it broke.”

“Rosita might,” she said, patting me on the shoulder, “c’mon, Glenn and I can show you around and introduce you to everyone.” I gave a small smile and a nod. Her and Glenn started off, and I looked up at the sky and took in a deep breath of fresh air. My brothers and my dad crossed my mind.

“I wish you guys could see this,” I whispered, following after the two of them.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After introductions to everyone, Glenn and Maggie took me over to the infirmary, where I stored the medical supplies I’d been carrying. After giving the remaining astronaut food to Rick to store in case of an emergency or a long journey and emptying it of gauze, bandages, disinfectant, pills, and small medical tools, my pack was much lighter. I still had yet to get my weapons back.

“So is Rick right?” I asked, following the two of them back outside, “about what he said about Daryl? I just get the vibe that he doesn’t like me, and I’ve hardly talked to the man.”

“Daryl’s very…” Maggie turned to Glenn before looking back at me, “protective of the people he cares about. You’re a fresh face. Don’t take anything too personally. And eventually, he’ll really see you as one of us. You’ll be fine.” She turned to look at the house I’d be staying and then back at me. “I’ll go in with you if that would make you more comfortable.” I swallowed and nodded.

She gave Glenn a quick kiss & he walked away before we headed over and up the tiny steps to the front door. It was a cute little grey house with large windows and flowers in the front that I was surprised weren’t dead. I figured gardening wouldn’t be at the top of anyone’s priority list in a time like this. Maggie knocked on the door and waited a few seconds before letting herself in.

“It’s Maggie and Vector!” she called out, letting me past her and closing the door behind us. No response. I unzipped my black combat boots and kicked them off. I let out a sigh of relief as my feet touched the floor, gently lifting each of my feet and pulling my socks off. The floor was ice cold under my feet.

“I’ve never been so excited to be barefoot. You forget about the little things, like being able to walk around without shoes on,” I said. I took a look around at what was in front of me. There was a set of stairs straight ahead, the kitchen off to the right with a small island in it, and a living area to the left with a couch, coffee table, and a chair. To the right of the stairs was a door, which I guessed was either a bathroom or a basement door.

“Well I bet you’re even more excited to get clean,” she said to me, “if this layout is anything like mine, which it looks like it is, I can show you where everything is at.”

“Hell yeah, let’s go,” I replied, following her over to and up the stairs. It felt strange to be walking around without my boots on. Previously, the only times I’d even taken them off were to quickly wash off when I’d find a creek, but that wasn’t very often. She led me to a room on the left and gently pressed the door open. Inside, there was a bed and a dresser with a mirror above it.

“This one’s you,” she told me, “oh, gimme your clothes & I’ll make sure they get washed.” I set my backpack down on the bed and fished my remaining clothes out.

“I would’ve been more than happy with just a chair cushion on the floor in a corner,” I beamed, handing my clothes over to her. I felt bad because they absolutely reeked, but she handled them as if there was no issue. Probably to not make me feel bad, which I appreciated. I left my bag on the bed and followed her back out to a door across the hall.

“This one’s the bathroom, and I'm guessing Daryl’s room is around the corner. Go ahead and enjoy a shower and I’ll see if any of us gals have some clothes you can borrow while yours get cleaned,” she said. I stepped into the small bathroom and turned to her.

“Maggie, I—“ I could hardly get my words out, “thank you for being so nice to me. And taking my clothes, showing me around. And letting me in in the first place. I promise I’ll be a productive member of the community here. I really can’t thank y’all enough.” I didn’t even think, I just grabbed her and gave her a giant hug. I don’t know what compelled me to do it. Maybe it was my lack of genuine human contact up to this point or being overwhelmed with the joy of finding a home. She slipped one arm out and hugged me back.

“I’m so sorry,” I said as I released her, “I should’ve asked you first.”

“You’re alright. It’s easy to get overwhelmed when you first get here. Don’t worry about it. And you’re welcome,” Maggie replied, “I’ll have the clothes in your room before you’re done.” We nodded to each other before she turned around and headed down and out the front door.

I quickly undressed and left my clothes in a pile that I could easily grab when I was done. I draped a towel across the back of the toilet and did my best to get the water to the right temperature. I almost cried when I first stepped underneath it. The amount of dirt that immediately ran off of me was abhorrent. I probably shampooed my hair 5 times, the product stinging the small wound on the back of my head. But I didn’t care. I was just happy to have clean hair. I was definitely a bit aggressive with the soap.

“Fuck,” I said to myself, turning towards the water and sticking my face under it, “I’ve never been so happy to get soap in my eyes.”

After cleaning every crack and crevice of my body multiple times, I stepped out and grabbed a towel, drying my face first and wrapping myself in it. It felt so soft, like it was my first time touching a bath towel. I took a moment to soak everything in before leaving the bathroom.

“Daryl?” I called out, poking my head out the door ever so slightly. When I didn’t hear a response or any sound of movement, I scuttled across the hallway to my room and quickly shut the door. Once I was in, I saw the clothes that Maggie had set out for me. There was a pair of black denim shorts, a black sports bra, some socks, and a hair tie. I sat down on the edge of the bed, and unable to contain myself anymore, I started sobbing. I covered my mouth with both hands to try to stifle the sounds.

My mom, my dad, Preston, Jay, Eli…they would never get to see Alexandria. I would never get to see their smiling faces, hear their laughs, experience their joy. There wouldn’t be any more reunions when they came home from deployment, no late-night trips to the grocery store, no more interrogations about boys, no father-daughter deep talks when neither of us could sleep. I couldn’t believe that out of everyone in my family, I was the one who made it out and alive. Not the Navy SEALs…me.

Being a surgeon who treated survivors of mass shootings, I was well-educated on survivor’s guilt, but damn, nothing prepares you for having to experience it yourself.

I took a few minutes to cry before drying myself off and throwing on the clothes Maggie left for me. I tied my wet hair up into a bun and tossed my towel on the bed. I took my glasses off and set them on the dresser before collapsing on the bed next to my backpack. I rolled onto my side and continued to cry. It was all I could do. I finally felt safe enough to grieve.

Eventually, sleep came, and with it came the nightmares. But they were different this time.

[dimensionwriter]

100 Days

Part One

Alien x Reader

Warning: None

Word Count: 1947

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Okay so this is just an experiment in a way. So just remember to LIKE, COMMENT and REBLOG. I'll appreciate it.

*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\

The creature floated in front of you in a giant alien containment. The container was 12 feet wide and 10 feet tall. The liquid that filled it was enriched with a substance that would allow the creature to continue to thrive even while being out of it's native world.

"How is experiment 337?" A deep voice buzzed in your ear. You jumped at the intrusive noise that disturbed the silence in the room. You sometimes forget that this is actually a job.

"Still unconscious, sir," you reported walking around the containment to look at it's sleeping form.

The creature had grayish blue skin that turned black once it reached it's appendages. It was bipedal with the legs thick and muscular. They had a set of arms that extended from it's shoulder, similars to a human. A second and third set of arms came from their spine and wrapped forward. A thick tail came from it's back and had a length of 3 feet and 2 inches.

"The vitals?" The voice demanded. You held in a sigh and walked over to the computer showing all the vitals. The things on the screen was a lot more complicated than that of a human.

"Fine, I believe. Though, the second heart has slowed down a lot in the last hour. Maybe get one of the doctors to come up here to check them out," you stated sliding through the chart the computer made on the creature's health. You guys didn't know how their normal health looked, so you just take the health they come in as normal and report any change in it.

"Damn thing might be trying to die on us. Well, it's not like it's giving us much information while it's unconscious, so might be a good thing." He ended it with a bark of laughter. You didn't join him as you rolled your eyes at him. He truly didn't have any patience. Some of the creatures that get sent here are here for months before they even begin to show some signs of responsiveness.

"Okay, sir. Please send that doctor in here," you quickly said before tapping your ear piece. You just had to get the boss that's the worse. He does not care for these creatures at all.

"You requested me," a montone voice asked. You turned around to see your vector's doctor walking in. They had a heavy set of bags under their eyes that showed how busy they were.

"Yeah, experiment 337's second heart rate seem to have slowed down," you explain pulling up the chart to show them. They leaned over your shoulder to look at them.

"I'll check on them. You can start your lunch break if you would like," they said looking over at you with a raised eyebrow. You pulled your lab coat back to look at your watch. Your break was supposed to start 20 minutes ago.

"Thanks. You can write anything you find in the notes under Experiment 337. I will see them there if you leave before I'm back," you rambled running around to grab your stuff. It's protocol to leave none of your things behind since you don't know what these creatures can do.

You took off your lab jacket and threw it in the waste bin. Glancing at the doctor, you could already see they were working on the creature. Hopefully nothing is wrong with them.

An hour later, you scan your ID at the door. It open slowly allowing you to see the empty room. Well except for the container with all the machinery hooked up to it. The doctor seem to be gone.

You threw your stuff on the free table and walked over to the metal closet. Inside of here were fresh and sterlized lab coats. There was also some gloves, but that was used if you could touch your experiment. And since yours were unconscious at the moment, it meant that you wouldn't be making any contact for a while.

"Examiner!" Someone yelled causing you to jump. You spun around towards the sound to see the doctor in the container. Their eyes were widen in panic as they struggled in the liquid.

"What? How?!" You stumbled while running to the container. You went to the computer to pull up the container's system. You have ot get them out.

"The creature. He woke up in the middle of me checking on him and he got out. I tried to push the panic alarm, but he sealed me in here. Hurry, get me out!" Their voice yelled out in fear. You stopped typing and turned slowly to the doctor.

"I noticed you said 'he' a lot. We usually say an alien is a they," you said lifting an eyebrow at the 'doctor'. They stopped thrashing and just floated. Since they weren't moving, you could see all the things hooked into them. No alien trying to escape would take the time to stick all those things into a person.

"Hmm, I thought I would identify closest to a male on this planet." The doctor's voice dropped two octaves causing your eyes to widen.

"You can shape shift," you screamed happily running to the glass. He looked exactly like the doctor. He even copied the mole hidden under their hair.

"What about it? You can't," he teased you raising a single eyebrow. It felt weird seeing the doctor, but having the actions and voice be so different.

"Can you please change? I have plenty of questions I want to ask you," you said going back to the computer. You closed the coding for the containment and pulled up the notes on this creature.

"Is this better, babe?" Your fingers froze as you turned your head slowly to the right. The creature was pressed against the glass closest to you. But instead of seeing an alien, you saw yourself.

"What's wrong, cat got your tongue?" The creature teased in your voice. A giant smirk slipped onto your face that looked so unnatural on you. "Well, I guess it's more like I have your tongue."

Laughter came out of your mouth as the creature started floating around. This felt weird. Seeing yourself do all these things while you are standing here really felt like whipflash.

"Wonder what's under here," he sung out before grabbing the front of the shirt. He pulled it away and started peaking around.

"Hey, stop that," you yelled banging on the glass. Deep laughter came from his, well yours, lips as he swam back over to the edge of the glass.

"Don't worry darling." He pulled the shirt down to reveal that underneath was his greyish blue skin. It faded from your skin into his as it passed the collar. "I can't turn into something I don't know."

You quickly turned to the computer and started typing in shapeshifter into his records. Putting a subsection underneath, you added that he can't shift into something he doesn't know or can't see.

"Is there anything else you cant do?" You asked looking over at him. Alien-you leaned back in the liquid and tapped his chin.

"I guess stop being so good looking," he grumbled out. You bit your lip as you thought of a perfect joke. It would be unprofessional to joke around with him, but you have heard other examiner say that they joke and play around with theirs.

"You do look like me, so I will have to agree with you on that statement." His mouth dropped open as soft stutters of laughter escaped. He closed it and rolled his tongue along his teeth.

Slowly, your skin started to turn into that grayish blue until your entire body started to contort. Your clothes turned to ashes before disappearing in the liquid. Jutting his head back, the skull seem to be shifting underneath as it became sharper and fuller.

"I think this looks a little a better," he purred pressing a clawed hand on the glass. He was back to his original form except this time clothed.

A skin tight black material covered from his knees to the peak of his neck, but it didn't cover any of his arms. It kind of reminded you of an old style swim suit in a way, very basic but covered all necessary things.

"So, you can produce clothing on yourself?" You asked thinking of how he perfectly replicated the clothes you were wearing. You leaned over to the computer and typed that in.

"Well, would you like for me to be butt naked in this container?" You stopped typing as you thought it over. It would help with getting data over everything and that increases chance for experiments. "I'm not liking that silence. You pervert."

Embarrassment encased your body as you shook your head trying to rid yourself of the accusation. "No, I was looking at it from a scientific standpoint. I promise."

He swam up and peaked over the top of the glass, so he was starring down at you. His black eyes glimmered with amusement as he threw a swift wink at you. "You can call it whatever you want, baby."

Your jaw dropped in shock at what you assumed was his flirtatious comment. What type of alien were you assigned to examine?

"I-" luckily you were cut off by a voice in your ear interrupting you. You had to stop yourself from letting out a groan as that annoying voice spoke.

"Don't forget we have a required seminar in 39 minutes. Go ahead and put your alien into hibernation and report all vitals before leaving." You rolled your eyes as you remember those dumb seminars. You really didn't want to go.

"Did I blow your mind, buttercup? Guess you imagine what is under my this suit." You zoned back into your environment as you looked back at the alien. Half of his upper body was tilting out of the container at you. His second and third set of arms slowly kept him afloat.

"Sadly, no. I have to put you to sleep now," you commented walking over to the computer. You quickly wrote in the notes that he seems to be made for swimming.

"But if I'm asleep, I can't see that beautiful face of yours," he whined out splashing his tail behind him. Luckily, none of it feel over.

"Don't worry, you can see me in your dreams," you joked typing in the code to send in the sleeping medicine. Blue liquid flowed from the machine and towards the IV stuck into him.

"You didn't even give me your name or give me a name." You tilted your head in confusion at the last statement. Why would you give him a name?

His eyes looked down at the blue liquid as it started going into him. He let out a shaky breath and dropped down into the container. His body slowly sank to the bottom where he leaned against the corner of the container.

You walked towards the glass and gently placed your hand on it. He was blinking slowly at you as he tried to fight the medicine. But you knew in ten seconds, he would be out.

"How about I call you Shark?" You joked looking at his grey skin. Bubbles floated out of his mouth from his laughter. His head plopped against the wall as his eyes shut.

"It's a good thing you cute or I would be offended by that." Silence followed as his breathing even out. The rest of his body sunk down into the floor.

Work was about to get a lot more exciting with him around. Maybe you could actually start looking forward to this.

*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\

So this is going to be an ongoing stories. I want to try to use some stories prompt or word prompts for this as practice for my writing. Also, I want to try to write a flirty character instead of a soft blushy one like usual. So this entire thing is a giant experiment for me. So leave a comment and let me know what you think.💜💜💜💜💜

[itsstrawberrymochi]

Hello! I’m here for the event! I would say my personality is a golden retriever mixed with gremlin, three words my friends or family would use to describe me would probably be jumpy, giggly and weird. My sexuality is Bicurious My birthday: Oct 10 My favorite color is orange and I play volleyball, I’m the setter. I’m a pretty good singer and I make friends pretty easily!

Heyyyyyuyyyy happy soon birthday XD here’s your matchup!

Congratulations you are a:

Demon hunter!

Breathing style: 🍂 Breath of autumn 🍂

Fun fact about the breathing style : This breathing style is described as breathing-taking when in action, when used an array of warm colors such as yellow orange and red fill the area around the user, users of this breathing style are usually very graceful and quick on their feet.

Are you a hasira?: Yes

Who is your tsuguko or mentor: Your tsuguko is Kanao Tsuyuri

Lover: Zenitsu Agatsuma

Family: Kyōjurō Rengoku ( older brother) Senjuro Rengoku ( younger brother)

Who you are most close with/bsf: Tanjiro Kamado

What people think of you: People think you give really warm hugs

Description for your nichirin sword: The blade of the sword is light orange, the hilt is in the shape of a maple leaf, and the handle fades from a dark orange to a light one

Description of your haori: Your haori looks just like Rengoku’s but instead of flames at the end it’s this;

Design done by: Free vector

A good character trait: optimistic

Headcanons

Zenitsu had the biggest crush on you for the longest time but he was too scared to say anything everyone knew he liked you the only person who didn’t know was you, it was actually kind of your brother ,Kyōjurō who got you two together it was an accident however . One day when you and the kamaboko squad were training with the flame pillar, Kyōjurō noticed how Zenitsu would alway be staring at you and blushing mans literally just shouted out with a hearty laugh “Young Agatsuma do you have a crush on my baby sibling!” You and Zenitsu were embarrassed but it’s ok because you two got together at in the end

Modern hc

Your brothers love to help you practice for volleyball! The only problem is Kyōjurō gets a little bit too into it which in turn makes his hits very aggressive, so you better hope the ball doesn’t hit you cause it’s going to hurt

[higuchimon]

[fanfic] Extra Training

"Where are you going?"  Ryouga wanted to know.  Iris tucked her D-Gazer into her pocket, checked on her deck, and shrugged.

"To the movies with Haruto,"  she told him.  Like she did every weekend.  It was something to do that wasn't dueling - not that she disliked dueling, there wasn't really any way that she could, not with having grown up in a household of duelists.  But it wasn't the be-all and end-all of her existence, and she only carried the deck around because Vector would start handing out knives if she didn't. 

Not that Iris had anything against knives, either, but the way Ryouga and Rio both stared at Vector when he offered her extra lessons told her quickly they didn't need to know how good she was with them, even without Vector's help.  Uncle Michael gave her sword-fighting lessons every weekend after all.  Edged weapons were as useful a tool as a dueling deck, and one that most people were less likely to think an eighteen year old might use against them.

Iris far preferred to handle her own problems.  The last time she'd complained about someone being annoying, everyone in the family plus a few extras - such as Uncles Michael, Thomas, and Chris, as well as Uncle Yuuma and Uncle Kaito, came down on the offender like the proverbial ton of bricks.  It took months> for anyone to ever talk to her again at school.

At least she didn't have to worry about that with Haruto.  They all liked Haruto and he knew how not to get on their bad sides.  Plus, he'd learned more than a few things that his brother didn't know about, so he kept her secrets about what she could do that her elders didn't know.

And he was a fantastic sparring partner.

Ryouga regarded her thoughtfully, then nodded.  "Enjoy yourself,"  was all he said.  Iris knew what that meant - don't murder someone without one heck of a good reason.  She was fine with that.  Rio had taught her what a good reason was.  So far she hadn't had to kill anyone and she didn't really want to.  She liked learning dueling and fighting for reasons aside from blood-lust, no matter what Vector swore by. 

So she headed out of the mansion and to the center of town, where Haruto sat outside of Heartland Tower and waited for her, kicking his feel lazily in a fountain.  She vaguely remembered that he'd been a bit sickly and weak when they were children.  Most of that had been before she'd come to this world, so she'd heard of it mostly as stories from Ryouga and Uncle Kaito, or from Haruto himself.  When she'd first met him, he'd been getting better, and she'd helped him improve over the years.

Now one couldn't tell that he'd ever been at risk of dying at all.  He leaped to his feet as soon as he caught sight of her and waved, eyes bright with joy.

"Ready?"  He wanted to know as she drew closer.  Iris smiled; she did enjoy spending time with him.  And she enjoyed what they were about to do just as much.  Maybe even a bit more.

"Ready."  She nodded, one hand dropping down to where she kept her duel disk - and the little secret hidden inside the same pocket.  Haruto nodded as well, and the two of them headed off.  Both of them knew very well that Omoid - oldest offspring of Obomi and Orbital 7 - followed them.  Omoid followed Haruto anywhere he went and did anything he could in order to help him. 

Haruto had had to do a little reprogramming as he got older to make sure Omoid kept certain things he and Iris did a secret, but as long as they came home without any major injuries, most things could be hidden from the eye of elder siblings.  Iris did wonder how much Uncle Kaito really knew.  He didn't seem like the type of person who would easily be deceived. Yet if he did know what they did - not every lesson they had from Uncle Michael was sanctioned - he said nothing at all about it.

They arrived at the Arclight mansion relatively quickly.  This wasn't their original home, or so Iris had been told.  They moved to Heartland on a regular basis a few years earlier and set up residence.  That was fine with her.  She liked spending time with all of them.

Though she wasn't ever going to forget the day that Uncle Thomas and Uncle Vector both ended up baby-sitting her at the same time.  Three fire trucks, five police cars, and she still didn't know how they'd avoided being arrested.  Ryouga didn't like to talk about it.

Michael welcomed them there as soon as they entered, guiding them to the familiar sparring grounds. 

"It's just us today,"  he told them.  "Chris is working with Kaito and Mizael helping out Father."  His lips twitched.  "I'm not quite certain where Thomas is, though.

That was fine with Iris, and apparently Haruto to.  She'd known about them being busy anyway.  She slipped her duel disk out, flipped open the hidden slot in the back, and her sword hilt dropped into her hand. 

"I'm ready for training!"  She declared, and Haruto matched her motions with his own.  Michael chuckled.

"I didn't expect anything less," he told them, and the three of them settled down to the business of sparring together.  Iris snapped the hilt, hitting the hidden button, and the blade itself unfolded.  This was new technology, spurred on by various companies in the city, and Michael had given each of them one of these as a surprise present.  It certainly made keeping these lessons secret from the rest of the family a lot easier.

She took the lead, approaching quickly, and striking.  They didn't often work with live steel first, but Michael's point of view on the matter was that one, they needed to use it as often as possible, and two, they needed to be careful. Using wooden or foam bats wouldn't teach caution. He knew how to take care of virtually any injury they could inflict on each other, and after five years of learning, they both knew how not to hurt the other.  Michael promised that they would be able to hurt other people if the time ever came.

Iris wasn't so sure if she wanted that, but she also knew the first lesson he'd taught her - never to pick up a weapon of any kind, be it a sword or a duel disk, unless you were both willing and capable of using it.  The Numbers War was long over, but who knew when something else might happen and she might be one of those called to arms.  Better to be ready and never need it, than need it and not be able to do anything.  Ryouga and Rio absolutely agreed on that, at least.

So she sparred and she learned, and Haruto fought her with all of his strength.  She pushed back, struck down carefully, judging her strength and where she aimed, and pushed him back.  He twisted his blade, making an attempt to disarm her, and she stepped back, getting out of the clinch and taking a different angle for her counterattack.  As time ticked by, Iris could not contain the pure joy that came from being able to do this at all.

She remembered her life in the past very clearly, and how she'd died.  She might not want to attack other people, but she would always want to be able to defend herself.  That was one of the reasons her clothes were specially made to be just shy of being actual armor.  Ryouga had insisted on that after they'd all come back from the trip to the Astral-Barian World.  She'd never been there, but she kind of wanted to, one of these days.

Metal clattered against metal, ringing loudly, but they could still hear Michael's firm voice instructing them on what to do.  Eventually he called a halt - both of them dripped sweat, and Iris wanted something to drink.  She slipped her sword's blade back into the hilt and started to turn around for the exit.

In the exit there stood Ryouga.  No, not Ryouga - Nasch. Her king.  His eyes stern and his lips not smiling at all.  Iris swallowed and essayed a smile of her own.

"This isn't a movie,"  he said quietly.  "This is very much not a movie."

"I know."  Iris agreed.  It wasn't as if she could argue that.  She would keep the secret, but he clearly already knew it.  She'd never been able to argue with him when he looked at her like that.  She worried at her lip, then mentally shrugged.  "It's just extra lessons, that's all."

Nasch nodded faintly.  "How long have you been doing this?"

"A while now,"  she answered.  Neither Haruto or Michael said anything else.  She suspected Michael was a little annoyed, if only because Nasch had entered without - she guessed - asking permission. 

"I can guess."  He crossed his arms, regarding her thoughtfully.  "Have you been hurt?"

"Nothing bad."  Iris shrugged.  "I can hold my own.  We're good at this."

His eyes softened ever so lightly and she began to breathe easily.  Or at least easier. "I noticed.  Did you relay think I believed you were going to the movies?  That you like them that much?"

Iris ducked her head.  "I hoped?"  Didn't most teenagers go to movies with friends?   She didn't think she was that out of touch.  Sure, she didn't have that many friends at school she could open up to, but she'd heard them all talking about movies and going on dates.  She did like movies, but going to see them every week just seemed boring.  She would have far preferred going to the ocean or up to the mountains.  The few times she'd hung out with Yamikawa at the Duel Lodge had been very instructive. 

"I think it's going to be a couple of weeks before you do this again,"  he told her quietly.  "And if you want to do it again, then I want to know about it before you go.  Understand?"

"Got it."  Iris knew she was getting off easy.  Ryouga nodded slightly before he looked at Haruto.  "Kaito's probably going to say the same thing to you."

"Kaito-sama already knows,"  Omoid piped up. "I told him after their firsts unofficial lesson."

Haruto blinked.  "I thought I reprogrammed you so you wouldn't do that."

"You did."  Kaito stepped up next to Nasch.  "I reprogrammed him back." 

Iris could see the pride in Kaito's eyes regardless of his words.  Whatever else he felt, he was glad Haruto could do these things.  If Kaito had really objected, then they would have known it long before this.

Ryouga gestured to her, and she started over.  She knew that she wasn't going to be seriously grounded - he'd let up on the punishments and let her make her own mistakes for a while now.  He wouldn't be that upset about extra lessons.  If anything, what had to have upset him was that she'd not told him the truth.  He'd get over it. 

Just to prove it, she glanced over to Michael and to Haruto.  "I'll see you next week,"  she addressed Michael first, then Haruto.  "Tomorrow?"

"Sure,"  Haruto agreed calmly, with Michael nodded.  He was clearly having trouble keeping himself from laughing.  Kaito and Ryouga both snorted, but Iris knew what they sounded like when they were upset, and this wasn't it.  Everything was fine. 

Together they all headed out.  Iris couldn't have been more satisfied with what happened.  She'd had a great workout and she didn't have to hide her extra trips from the others anymore.  She'd more or less wanted to tell them from the beginning; events just hadn't fallen out that way.  Being older did come with some advantages. 

Ryouga still made her wear her helmet on the way home. 

The End

Notes: One day I might write more about Omoid and Haruto. You really think Kaito wouldn’t have one of those little bots assigned to keep an eye on his brother?

Ryouga was probably a lot angrier than he let on, but Iris is eighteen. She can make her own decisions, and Rio probably lectured him on that. Maybe I will write that side piece eventually.

[naivesilver]

Vecpio Week - Day 6+7: Blackout & AU

We did it! We’re at the end of this year’s Vecpio Week, and it was so much fun I’m almost sad to think it’s over. It was an amazing chance to write for this ship again, and the sheer quality of the entries I’ve seen both here and on Twitter nearly knocked me off my feet. Thank you, this is a great fandom and I’m glad I can be part of it.

I posted all my entries here on Ao3 as well. Also, for today I decided to mix two different prompts together, because the chance to write some more angst was too juicy to let pass. See you all next year! (Or, more likely, next week, since at this point I’ve grown so used to posting Vecpio content every day AND I got a bunch of ideas that I couldn’t tie to any prompt, so I might write something new very soon.)

(Soulmate!AU - Spoilers for the current IDW Comics arc)

They say the day you lose your soulmate, your world goes back to grey, as it was before the first meeting.

Espio knows better, now, or perhaps he’s just thinking too much about the choice of words at play. Perhaps by losing they only mean death, and Vector is not dead.

Not yet, at least.

The point stands, though. Stories always seem to gloss over the finer details of what finding your soulmate is really like, probably as not to scare away all those children who are still eager to meet their other half. They stick to the broader spectrum – you’re born, you only see shades of grey; you meet your soulmate, you start seeing colours, and everything in your life suddenly falls into place.

Your soulmate dies, you’re back to square one.

Espio should have known it was a gross oversimplification from the beginning, because there was no sudden moment of clarity, the day he first saw Vector. He doesn’t remember any oh, this is it when he met that other boy’s gaze in a downtown alley that probably reeked of rotten trash, only the air being knocked out of his lungs and the blinding shock of the colours rushing in where first everything had been grey and white and dull. Mostly, above all, he remembers the overwhelming need to escape, to run away from whatever was happening to him.

It’s funny, in a way. If he’d run then, he wouldn’t be here now, having to fight the urge to rush at Vector’s side. He would have lost his soulmate, but he would have saved himself the pain, and a good handful of rough moments down the line, too.

He doesn’t know if that’s a bargain he wouldn’t take right now, as he falls to his knees watching Vector drag Charmy towards the mass of infected bodies inside the bunker. In the split second before the doors close behind them, Espio would rewind it all, erase it like markings on a blackboard.

Still. He didn’t run, and he can’t change the past. And as such, he’s stuck here, in this very moment, and all his memories – the good ones, the bad ones, the weird ones he can’t quite place – are in vivid colour.

That first conversation with Vector, stilted and awkward, and golden crocodile’s eyes. Finding Charmy, vibrant yellow and black and screaming as babies ought to. The house as it was before the war, as it probably isn’t anymore, whole and safe and cheap wood brown. The fighting itself, grey like the smoke and red like the injuries that have long since scabbed.

Love is red, too. It’s a naïve fancy, to believe that immaterial things could be of any shade, but Espio thinks he can afford being idealistic, for once, and for him, love is getting hurt not long after they found each other and watching the blood run down his arm and drip from his fingers, sticky and wet and red. It’s Vector patching him up, grumbling under his breath, and then taking his face in one hand and kissing him soundly, thumb stroking his cheek.

The kiss and the blood and the stinging pain in his arm all mix up, muddled together and impossible to separate, but Espio wouldn’t mind taking some pain if it meant having his soulmate back. Pain would be worth it, if it were red and not grey.

Here’s the truth, he wants to scream at all those stories: losing a soulmate doesn’t always mean death. Sometimes it’s much, much worse, the spread of a virus they never had expected to come their way, and when it touches your other half, the world doesn’t go back to the shades of grey it had before. Instead it turns a dark, brassy hue, more black than grey, with a metallic tinge that sends shivers down Espio’s spine. If he had to find a comparison, he’d say it looks the way the agency did when they had a power shortage and whatever emergency source of light they found would cast weird shadows on the walls, draining the colour from the furniture around them and leaving only spots of white in a sea of black.

It’s ironic that Vector’s sacrifice would cause a blackout, as if he’d blown off the money to pay electricity bills again, but Espio can’t bring himself to laugh, no more than he can scream, because his breath gets caught in his throat and

So that’s what happens, in the end: stories and reality blend together, and there’s no happy ending in sight. Vector grins, and meets his eyes, and suddenly Espio’s back where he began – he can’t breathe, and he can’t run, and his knees hit the cold metallic floor so hard they will probably bruise later.

The doors slid to a close, after, and Espio knows it’s over, because everything – the escape pod, the sky, Amy’s hands as she tries to get him to move – everything is grey, a grey so dark he feels he’s going to be sick, and it’s nothing like he remembers the world before Vector.

So, yeah. He knows better than those fairy tales.

He just wishes it could help him find some solace from the mind-numbing pain he feels in his chest.

[agathaarts]

TF: Toku - The Weirdest Day

When Orion is kidnapped by the Decepticons- he expects the worst. Instead, he gets the strangest.

THE WEIRDEST DAY A short story from Transformers: Toku

-----

Orion had seen miracles. He had spoken with the first Primes, touched technology so ancient as to be magic, stood before the light of Vector Sigma. He had experienced things so unique he doubted any being save for Ariel and Dion would believe him if he told them, about Predacon Kings and leaping across the surface of Luna One as no-one had in decades.

So it was no small feat that this?

This took the oilcake for the weirdest day of his life.

By far.

First had come fear. The Seekers who had taken him must have been laying in wait, hidden in the ruins he'd been spending the past week exploring, and they'd struck when he was alone- guard down, distracted, Ariel would've admonished him but no one was ever prepared for a streak of blue and a streak of purple to hit them simultaneously. They’d dropped out of nowhere and yanked him up off his feet and into the air so fast the wind had been knocked from his vents. Even with all the practice he’d been getting flying in the armor lately, the whole world had flipped upside-down and a mix of disorientation and surprise left him flailing uselessly.

The Seekers (dangling by his ankles from their hands, it was easy enough to recognize them- Starscream’s lieutenants, Thundercracker and Skywarp, and he thought about the fights they’d had with them. About their powers- to stun and to teleport and, wait, to teleport!?) were saying something that he honestly couldn’t focus on, spark going so fast he was hearing static and watched helplessly as a smattering of purple sparks flickered across Skywarp’s armor- and then Thundercracker’s, and his- and-

VWOP

Oh. Teleporting like this sucked.

At least he was spared the indignity of screaming by the fact that he had to keep his mouth pressed shut to avoid purging his tanks when all momentum and gravity twisted and vanished and then came back in a godawful rush. Suddenly, he understood why Ariel had hated fighting this guy so damn much. He hit a purple, metal floor and struggled for air as he pushed himself to sit up, realizing that his vents were steaming in cold, cold air.

Skywarp collapsed into a heap next to him, and it all came together quite terribly.

The teleporter’s sudden exhaustion (Skywarp moaned pitifully as Thundercracker tried to pull him back upright with a curse), the sudden piercing cold- he looked up at a sky pale with clouds and rippling with electromagnetic bands of color, and found snow drifting down through the fog of his breaths. It hadn’t been the cold season, in the Iaconian territories. Not for a while, yet.

“Kaon.” He breathed, finally managing to swallow half-digested bile. Kaon, seat of the Decepticon empire, situated in Cybertron’s arctic circle. Skywarp had just teleported him a quarter of the way across the planet without using a groundbridge.

He turned to look at the Seekers again, and found himself face to face with a charging cannon.

A quarter of the way across the planet, directly to the Decepticon stronghold, by the looks of things. Mostly, now, he was focused on the glow of the cannon in his face, and then up to the huge violet mechanism it was attached to. “Rise.” Shockwave ordered in a wheezing growl.

Orion had been Optimus Prime. Primus-appointed warrior, a myth of power and nobility, he had fought dozens of Decepticons, Insecticons, Predacons, he had fought Shockwave to a standstill and assisted in even more battles. Optimus Prime would have said something defiant, noble, something to show that the mechanism was incapable of fear.

“‘Kay.” Orion squeaked, getting to his feet, clutching at his own arms as a cold wind picked up, suddenly wishing he’d at least bought along insulated armor. He’d seen images of this place, albeit from outside, studied possible defenses in the event that they ever found a weakness in this fortress. Like he hadn’t agreed with Ariel and Dion that an assault on the Decepticon stronghold would have been suicidal. Still, he recognized the jagged shapes of the towers, the high, reinforced walls, and his spark sank with the thought that no-one was reasonably going to come for him.

Shockwave prodded him, and he walked mechanically, past the Seekers (Thundercracker now having given up and just poking the snoring Skywarp with his foot over and over) under Shockwave’s directions and into a set of huge, carved doors.

Orion felt spectacularly small, in the huge, empty halls. At least it was warmer inside, but the walk was just slow enough to make anxiety creep in and knot in his gut, and just fast enough that keeping pace in front of Shockwave’s long steps was uncomfortable. He expected to be guided to some sort of holding cell, a brig, his processor conjuring up images of torture chambers and gallows for execution, between half-formed thoughts of how did they find out? How did they know? Are they going after Ariel too? Are they going after Dion? Where did we slip up?

 And he thought about the communicator in his subspace.

If they left him alone for a moment, maybe he’d have time to get a message out before they noticed, warn them, somehow-

He was not taken to a cell. Or a small dark room. The throne room was, somehow, bigger than it looked on Decepticon broadcasts, and on the broadcasts it had looked enormous. It wasn’t...opulent, no, but something about the sheer size of the arched ceiling, the huge crystal screens along the walls, a space big enough to fly in (in fact, a few fliers hovered overhead, guards with heavy energy rifles who were tracking their progress) and big enough to pack in a few hundred Decepticons. The walk went from uncomfortable to downright agonizing when he realized who was waiting at the far end, standing up on the raised platform that held the nightmarish throne.

Even from this far away, Megatron and Starscream looked larger than life, without the benefit of the Optimus armor to raise him up and shield him. Orion had thought he felt small and undefended before, but every step closer to them was like shrinking, like his spark was falling through the floor. His standard armor may as well have been tinfoil for how vulnerable it felt.

Don’t cry in front of Megatron. He tried to berate himself, internally, in Ariel’s voice. Baby. It was already bad enough that he couldn’t keep an optic on them and had resorted to watching his feet, ventilations ragged and too-hard. Hyperventilating probably wouldn’t be a great response, either, but hey, it wasn’t breaking down. And it let him focus on other things, like the unsettling quiet of the throne room. Especially given the usual interplay of sharp arguments he’d been personally witness to between Megatron and Starscream. He really was slagged, if they were both staying quiet just to wait for him.

“My Lord.” Shockwave rumbled as they came to a stop. Orion kept his helm stubbornly down. “I present to you; Orion Pax, of Iacon.”

There was silence for a moment, before Starscream sucked in a loud ventilation and Orion winced. “Pax. That’s ironic. Peace.”

“It is the order most responsible for taking in war-orphans. The Order of Pax accounts for nearly sixty-seven per-cent of orphaned sparkling care among the Autobot territories.” Shockwave drolled out. True enough. Orion had known dozens of other Paxes, most of them without creators like him. He counted his ventilations, and looked at where the deep, grey-purple floors were scuffed by countless pedes before his own.

“You are certain this is him?” Megatron finally spoke up, voice low and smooth and Orion felt dizzy. It hadn’t been easy to fight Megatron, but it had been so much easier as Optimus Prime. Armored and armed and he was certain if he tried to get his utility axe out here and now he’d be dead before he even finished drawing it from subspace, but Optimus Prime would have stood a chance. “If there is any room for error-”

“There is not.” Shockwave put a heavy set of claws on Orion’s helm, and he let out an undignified whimper. Ariel would’ve been yelling at him, he just knew it. “My tests were extensive. His genetic coding is a perfect match.”

Oh Primus. Oh Primus, had they gotten ahold of his energon as Optimus? He thought of every time he’d been injured in the armor. Where could they have gotten a clean sample? Testing spilled energon was tough, the code degraded so fast when exposed to air or the surface of Cybertron, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t spilled energon in turn to further complicate things- had they somehow gotten into the Iaconian databases to read his own coding on file? He realized after a moment that he wasn’t even ventilating anymore, holding a breath hot in his chest. Did they have samples of his friends? Maybe it was just him, maybe they were still safe-

“As if any more testing is needed.” Starscream cut in. “Look at him! Look at that!” Starscream’s clawed hand came into Orion’s downturned gaze and talons pressed to his chin and tilted his head up, and he wondered if he was in shock, given how easily he let Starscream move his head up, and then tilt him side to side.

Megatron was looking down at him, but his expression was...inscrutable. No smug smirk of victory, or grit teeth of anger (he thought about the absolute rage Megatron’s face had held when he’d defeated him, when Optimus Prime had beaten him and then been refused the killing blow before he’d had to retreat.) Lips pursed tight, optics intent as if studying him. Trying to rationalize the adolescent who didn’t even have his final armors with the warrior who’d bested him?

Starscream turned his face the other way, and the Seeker locked eyes with him- their expression far more obvious and unguarded and...well, unsettling. Starscream was smiling, wide and wide-eyed and the smile split into a grin. “Will you look at those eyes.” The Seeker breathed, oddly quiet and soft given their usual harsh voice. Not a hint of malice or manic violence in that face, not like the fights he’d seen through Dion and Ariel’s eyes.

“Uhm.” Orion was rapidly realizing that, maybe, he didn’t know what was going on, here. This didn’t feel like an execution. Or an interrogation. Something was missing, something obvious to everyone else in the room. Starscream released his chin and he worked his mouth for a moment, but couldn’t find a word to say, instead glancing side to side. Maybe he’d hit his head when the Seekers grabbed him? Jarred his perceptive circuits.

Megatron was kneeling down, between his own height and the raised platform still more than large enough to be looking down at Orion from this position, but closer. Way too close for comfort, enough so that Orion could have reached out and put a hand on his helm with room to spare. He tried to look anywhere but Megatron. Up at the ceiling, to one side where Shockwave waited, to the other, where Starscream was still grinning and doing some sort of shuffling step side to side while those wings bobbed and flicked up and down in excitement.

Megatron cleared his vocalizer and Orion’s optics snapped back to him unwillingly. Say what you would of the warlord, but he had a presence that filled the room and demanded attention. “You know who we are?” He asked, and Orion mused over how very quiet his voice could be, when he’d only ever heard him barking order or bellowing promises of violence.

Orion gulped and nodded, unable to break focus with the burning red eyes of Megatron.

“Of course you do. I suppose it would be impossible not to, no matter who has had you.” Megatron’s gaze dropped to the autobot sigil on Orion’s chest. “Tell me, what do you know of your origins?”

Too confused and startled to do much of anything by way of resistance, Orion blinked a few times. They’d obviously had access to some form of his records, they must’ve known- Starscream’s shuffling half-dance of anticipation was growing louder the more he fidgeted. “Uhm.” He started. “I was raised by the Order of Pax, uh, when I was a mechlet, and then I was taken in by an archivist?” Something held his tongue on Alpha Trion’s name. Maybe his caretaker would be safe, still. Boy, he hated the sound of his voice, right now. Wavering and pitched with fear he was trying not to show. “And, uhm. That’s it. That’s all I know.”

Internally, he was screaming. WHAT?! WHY?! WHY DO YOU CARE WHY AM I HERE WHAT DO YOU WANT?!

It must have been obvious on his face, given the way Megatron’s expression quirked to something almost like amusement. A crooked sort of smile. “So you know very little. Perhaps nothing.”

“Uh.” Orion shrank down a bit. Because if the fear and confusion weren’t enough, he needed to feel a bit embarrassed for how little he knew, even if that wasn’t...atypical. It wasn’t as if he’d ever felt the need to look, not when he’d had Alpha Trion to care for him, to reassure him that no matter how he’d wound up in the care of the Order of Pax, he was wanted and loved at the archives. But the question caught in his throat until he croaked it out, voice breaking with a crackle of fearful static. “Why?”

Megatron rested his chin in his hand, elbow propped on his knee, thinking. “...You really do have his eyes.” His smile grew, and his expression was downright relieved. The warlord turned to his second, and Starscream only grinned wider if that were possible. “I suppose there is something to be said for a seeker’s genetics, even if he is wheeled.”

Orion silently mouthed ‘what’, because his processor’s frantic theorizing ground to a halt so abruptly that his vocalizer couldn’t quite function.

“Of course there is!” Starscream swooped around him and there were clawed hands on his arms but they were so careful, downright gentle in how they squeezed him and how Starscream peered over his shoulder with a crooning hum. “Thank goodness my coloration bred true, the poor boy wouldn’t deserve to be as dull as you!” Starscream grasped one of his wrists in a hand and it occurred to him that Starscream’s arms weren’t just blue, they were the same rich matte blue, a perfect match to his own.

“what” Orion whispered, choking on the word. Oh, the dizziness was back, and he was having trouble focusing his gaze. In fact, thinking about it, Starscream’s vibrant red plating would have been just about the right shade too. Red and blue were hardly rare colors, especially amongst Iaconians, but Starscream was certainly far more primary than most Seekers.

“Don’t mechhandle him-” Megatron sighed, rising back to his feet and gesturing for Starscream to shoo off. “Give him space, before you terrify the poor boy. Orion-” Starscream released him with a grumble, and swept forwards to stand beside Megatron, and the two of them were every inch the tall, proud, terrifying warlords who had swept across Cybertron. Made all the more terrifying by how they looked at Orion like...like...well, certainly not like an enemy, like a captured soldier. Hopeful. Relieved. Adoring. “-we have much to tell you.”

Megatron extended a hand down to him, open and palm up. Orion stared at it, mute with confusion. “what?” He mumbled, again, and tried not to think about those huge, powerful hands crumpling his armor, trying to beat him to death as Optimus Prime.

“Beginning with your heritage.” Megatron flexed his fingers, and Shockwave nudged him in the back with a sharp prod of a claw, startling him into placing his own small, unarmored hand in Megatron’s palm. He was held, and pulled up onto the raised platform before Megatron and Starscream, barely keeping his pedes under him in the process with a yelp. “You are not of Iacon, Orion.” He rolled Orion’s name smoothly, as if testing it, as if appreciating it. “You were created in Tarn, born in the great southern fortress at the border of Vos.”

Huh, thought Orion, caught in a dreamlike state where nothing quite seemed real. Maybe he really had hit his helm back there. Maybe this really was some sort of hallucination. That would have been the heart of Decepticon territories, decades ago. All that made it out of his mouth was another “w-what?”

“Orion Pax of Tarn.” Megatron practically purred it. “We believed you lost, a war was no place for a sparkling-”

“-And our fortress was destroyed-” Starscream interjected, claws on Orion’s arm again on one side, and then Megatron’s heavy hand on his other shoulder. So very trapped.

“-but fate has brought you back to us.” Orion could feel some sort of glitch turning into a cascade failure. Dizzy. Trouble focusing. Trouble moving. His body felt fuzzy and far away. “My son.”

“Our son.” Starscream added. And they looked at him like he was pricelessly important to them, unguarded and honest.

It would’ve been better if it didn’t make sense. As it was, Orion gawped, and managed to not simply say another confused ‘what’ or choke out another senseless ‘uhm’. He actually managed a full sentence, through the shock. Unfortunately, that sentence was “I’m sorry, I’m going to crash.” followed by his vision cutting out. There was a distant awareness of someone, multiple someones yelling and he didn’t fall far before there were arms around him, catching and supporting him, and then…he was out.

Megatron carefully arranged the adolescent in his arms, ignoring Starscream’s shrill cries, very aware suddenly of how small Orion was, in nothing but basic armors and without so much as a weapon on him, frowning at the autobrand that looked up at him. “Stop that.” He growled at Starscream, who whined. “He is fine, I can hardly blame him for glitching.”

“Be gentle with him!” The Seeker hissed.

“He is fine.” Megatron reassured. As it was, Orion simply vented soft and slow in his arms, slack and unconscious but unharmed. “Shockwave, have a medic sent to his quarters. I-”

“We!” Starscream added.

“-will bring him there.”

“At once, my Lord.” Shockwave would have sighed if it weren’t unprofessional. Ah, well. He could endure the inefficient softness Megatron was going to display around this...mechlet for now. If it pleased his Lord, he could see the benefit of having kidnapped his offspring. And one had to suppose, better than waiting for an Autobot to find out...and make their own plans for him.