#I've been wanting to talk about this for a while now as I've never seen anyone bring it up

[changeling-droneco]

I've watched contrapoints for years now and I do want to give my own thoughts on her from what I've seen over the years, however, do know this comes from a goy and thus might get some stuff wrong or have come to the wrong conclusion, but I feel like I just have more context and information that people might want.

Contrapoints and antisemitism is a very much a bit of a loaded thing because a big part of her brand is that she uses like “reddit” and “4chan” lingo and the like as a part of deprogramming people away from alt right pipelines by meeting them where they are and sing familiar terminology (see her video about "are traps gay" which uses the word trap because thats going to be what some random 14 year old boy is googling and it better for it to be her then some alt right transphobe and thus, she uses the much more derogatory language because thats what people she wants to pull out are going to be looking for)

However, unfortunately means theres an underlying antisemitism to some of her recurring bits even if she tries to clarify are not meant to actually be antisemitic but instead playing with the tropes people come to expect, like lizards controlling the government. Which while before october seventh I would have considered it tasteless but overall another part of trying to deprogram that just isn't working as well but it's definitely a lot more grating and dangerous looking back even if she has come to regret some of those decisions and seems to be retiring or at least changing some of the worst offenders.

As for her take, I think she's wrong about a good chunk of things but she's also right about some other important details like actually knowing the definition of Zionism. Natalie has always been good at not falling for the thought of twitter is activism and calling it out as nonsense that doesn't accomplish anything. She's also good at sticking to her guns, and has experience with cancel culture many times before. While also has experience eventually changing her mind as she gets more information or things develop. I also fully agree with her not wanting to make a video, I do think her style of content simply would not land at ALL.

She's also at least in some part has been one of the only left wing youtube video essayists calling out antisemitism in the past few months, which is something I feel is important to bring up in discussions about her statement. She has actually talked about the rise of antisemitism online in a video she made three months ago.

As while she never made a video specifically about palestine she DID make a video on conspiracy theories where she talks about antisemitism. Not as much as I would have liked, but she does talk about the alt right pipeline and antisemitism and how it relates to it and I think she does a good job of it.

While I would watch the whole video for context both good and bad of both Natalie's style and the angle she's coming, I have also just got a link to when she gets to that section because the video is long as hell and while I do understand leaving it more towards the end to hook people in it is still, a long as hell video.

Though to hit the bullet points for those who don't have the time;

She actively calls out the talking about of "Antisemite is a slur" as a right wing talking point of bullshit

Talks about how how all conspiracy theories tend to be rooted in antisemitism

Uses an example of how fast twitter pipelined her to hitler content with an alt account and clarifies she doesn't mean metaphorical hitler but like, the actual guy.

Goes over multiple forms of antisemitism she found, from graphs to lying to basically anything you can think of and points out how some of the stuff she saw was genuinely more vile then actual nazi propoganda she saw at a museum

How calling out dogwhistles can be turned into being like "Well I just said the global elite bankers and you thought of jews so who's the real antisemite hmm checkmate athiest"

Does talk lightly on israel and palestine and while she condemns the war, does point out how people are just using it as pretext to be nazis, I think she could have gone more in depths but I also feel going light on it wasn't a bad call even if I feel she was a bit too charitable to the college protests.

Points how conspiracy theories especially in the west is about finding a scapegoat, which jews have historically always been (i disagree with the in the west part but the rest is solid)

Talks about the history of where the "Greedy Jew" comes from and how it happened and briefly touches on the blood libel aspects. Along with how people often view money itself as a sort of almost occult mystery which lends itself to conspiratorial thinking

Brings up the phrase "antisemitism is the socialism of fools" which i think is just a really interesting phrase and a really useful one.

Points out how being on the left does not "inoculate against foolishness" and how the "revolution" tends to start socialist but easily be corrupted into nationalism

While she doesn't say it likely for pacing reasons when talking about the defeat of Hitler she does have a fun notation on the screen of "(which, as with the other Allies, had nothing to do with ideological opposition to antisemitism)" before going into how Stalin proceeded to stop Hitler then turn around and do their own jew purge under some guise of getting rid of the other

Does address her previous incorrect assumption that the idea of a "reptilian" could be salvaged as a metaphor for the ruling class and talk about how she was wrong and talks about the history and the inherent antisemitism to it that cannot be scrubbed away

Talks about the rise of antisemitism on tiktok and social media then proceeds to i think have a valid crash out about how dumb as hell this is and how susceptible people are to propaganda and conspiracy theories.

I don't know Natalie, just her videos and how she presents herself, but so far she's been very good at least at presenting herself as good at keeping a bit of a cool head and being open to discussing sensitive topics at a person to person level. I see her statement and the response as a good time to reach out if someone is in a good spot to do so and have the facts on hand. I also understand being far too bitter or tired to not wanting to even engage with her in the slightest.

So at the end of the day, I suppose my TLDR; is that she's definitely a lot more aware of the antisemitism and propaganda building up around her, but that doesn't make her inherently immune to the more subtle stuff either. She's imperfect, and her statement is mediocre, but I also see more effort from her then I've gotten from basically every other "big name" online to actually try and balance "i dont like what israel is doing" with "dont be a fucking nazi"

I get if its not enough for some people, and support those people, but the effort should be acknowledged and recognized that she is at least trying to do the right thing and not promote antisemitism, even if she falls flat in some key places.

This just got shared over on Discord by a friend of mine--ContraPoint's personal statement on the I/P conflict.

It is hellaciously antisemitic. We have repeated invocations of the genocide canard. Repeated invocations of "Jews have too much influence on the US government" canard. Multiple instances of blood libel. I could probably get a Bingo on one of my cards without trying too hard if I actually went line-by-line.

AND YET.

ContraPoints' core thesis here is "no, the Pro-Palestine movement is functionally a group of self-defeating antisemites whose actions do not help Palestinians at all and are fundamentally self-defeating."

As I commented on Discord,

if this is what qualifies as a voice of reason and a call to sanity within the Hamasnik movement--and it is--then you know we have trouble

[hyperfixingfr]

Hello! I'm very sorry to bother you. I didn't wanna bring this issue back, but things escalated and I fear I must step in while I can.

I am a good friend of the user mpregkingjulien. While I do not necessarily agree with encouraging others to harm themselves, he has apologized and owned up to his actions. I know he already apologized before, and why he went after you again I am unsure of.

But we have a more important issue at hand. He feels awful for what he has done, started hurting himself again, and even considered offing himself. He feels as if he can never show his presence in his fandoms again. While what he did wasn't great, no one deserves to feel so bad about something that they hurt and/or kill themselves over it.

If it's not too much trouble, I would like to ask that if you respond to this, please tag the fandoms that he is in and let them know what's going on. I'm not trying to guilt trip, or anything of the sort. As his friend, I am worried about him, and I don't want him to throw it all away over something like this.

You don't deserve harassment, and neither does he. Again, I'm truly sorry for butting in. I just want things to end peacefully... preferably without anyone dying.

Thank you, and have a good day.

Dude, holy fuck, you're being manipulated. This is insane to me.

I literally never interacted with this user, they come into my girlfriend's DMs wailing about how "fucked up" I am for things that are not even remotely true (despite the fact that I haven't even SEEN this person before), they proceed to toss shit at me, then whine when I react, then wait a week to have yet ANOTHER GO at me, then whine AGAIN for a SECOND TIME when not only do I react, but I call them out on the fact that they lied and pretended it wasn't them, and now they're trying to shift the whole fucking thing onto me and how MY ACTIONS (a regular human retaliation to unprompted bullshit) are somehow the reason that they are injuring themselves. They TOLD ME to cut myself, and then when I said "that's fucked up", now they're cutting themselves and wailing about it? Holy fuck. Holy fucking shit, all of you. You guys need to get out of there please. You are being strung along on a leash. He found a random internet user, fed you all lies about how I'm some disgusting creep to attempt to justify his own attempts at trying to make me hurt myself, and then flipped the switch when people weren't happy and is now trying to make you feel bad for him for something he did on purpose and with bad intentions. He has been doing this for as long as people can remember, this isn't new behavior, this is just the first time he's been called out. And you guys think I'M insane? Please, save yourselves. I worry for your group. He's guilt tripping all of you extensively for feeling uncomfortable with his behavior and it's NOT OKAY! This is something that happens in cases all the time. Have you ever heard of those people who take their lives after doing something awful to another person to make their families attack the victim? It's a really nasty stunt, and it does happen. People who are fucked up aren't against going to the extremes to guilt and manipulate the people they know. I was already concerned for you guys before, but this is getting out of hand. I don't know this kid, he randomly spawned into my life a week ago talking about all this junk he 100% pulled out of his ass, and suddenly now I'm supposed to be responsible for the sadness that he feels because he did something OBJECTIVELY FUCKED UP?

You all think I'm some lame ass, evil person who deserves just as much shit as him because he's MAKING YOU think that. I've done jack fucking shit to prompt him to go after me, both the first time and the second time. There's proof of this. I had nothing to do with his mental problems from the start, and now you guys are on about how I'm just as bad as him (not you in particular anon) because he has absolutely GUILTED you guys into believing I had done anything to him that was wrong. Please, please don't let him get away with his guilt tripping. This isn't fair to any of you. Maybe once you guys open your eyes a bit, you'll realize I'm just trying to warn you. I have studied psychology, especially abnormal psychology (disability, mental illness, etc) EXTENSIVELY. I know what I'm talking about, and me being a teenager already enrolled for higher education with a 4.0 GPA who has accurately assessed and prediagnosed multiple people with mental disorders should be enough to tell you guys that I'm not taking the piss, and I'm not being a dumbass. I am distinctly educated on this topic and I'm seeing patterns here that should NEVER be taken lightly. One last time, please save yourselves. Please save him, if he's still capable of it. I refuse to get involved in something that I shouldn't be involved with any further, considering I was roped into this whole situation to begin with. Stay safe.

[nonsscrapheap]

TFP: Universal Observations

and so the trend of each chapter just, gaining more and more words and becoming more monstrous in terms of word count continues.

this chapter is 15.4k yeah, just a few hundred words more than the last chapter SOLELY BECAUSE this is the chapter before the interlude. the interlude is either gonna be shorter or, rung help me, longer. we'll see

at any rate! on with the show!

[ ----- TP : UO ----- ]

Omega Outpost One

[ "So, your old mentor was either an accomplice or perhaps even facilitated the theft of various artifacts and relics ranging from the Apex Armor to even the Forge of Solus Prime…" Megatron started some time after the others left, Optimus was leaning against the table with his servos, a look of fatigue slowly appearing on his faceplate. "Perhaps there's more to that old mech than I originally thought."

"He is… inscrutable, at times." Optimus admitted tiredly, "I had always worried there were things he was not telling me, important details that he avoided revealing to me… But this?" He took in a deep vent, his expression going stoic before he was abruptly surprised by the feeling of Megatron's servo on his cheek.

"Stop." Megatron said softly, yet firmly, red optics staring into his. "You are upset, Optimus. Let yourself feel upset."

Optimus narrowed his optics, "There is little time for me to feel upset, Alpha Trion's current state is fragile as it is. We must go to him and ask while we still can." He argued but Megatron stepped closer, pulling Optimus close to press their helms together. One servo still on his cheek, the other wrapping around the Prime's waist intimately.

"Fine. We'll go, but don't think I haven't noticed your reliance on the Matrix's suppressors lately. Again. Even Ratchet has noticed. We'll talk about this later, Optimus." Optimus' expression twisted before giving a sigh of defeat in the face of Megatron's stern look.

"… Very well." Megatron searched through Optimus' optics before nodding in satisfaction, leaning in for a brief kiss. "You've turned into a worrier." Optimus muttered afterwards, a soft look on his faceplate.

Megatron smirked, "With a Prime like you? Who wouldn't?" ]

"Pause."

Jack didn't need anyone to tell him to pause the screen, not after- well that. But maybe it was a bad idea to pause right there and then because frozen on the screen was the rather intimate sight of mecha Megatron leaning his head against Optimus' with a smirk, both leaders looking too soft for each other.

"I knew it."

Jack blinked, glancing over to Miko incredulously, the girl was grinning widely at the screen with an 'aha!' type of look. "… Knew what?" He probably shouldn't have asked but, well, curiosity and all that…

"That they were like, more!" She exclaimed, gesturing to the screen with a triumphant look. "I've been suspecting it ever since Megatron saved Optimus earlier on! They were totally flirting on the battlefield-"

Raf tugged on Miko's arm, hesitant, "Uh, Miko? Maybe… not now?" He tried, nodding to the frozen Autobots that had looks of horror and confusion on their faces. He's never seen their eye- uh, optics? So wide before.

Miko's triumphant expression faltered and she looked around a bit cautiously, "… Uh, you guys… okay?"

Clearly not, Jack wanted to say but held his tongue. Mostly because the question unleashed a cacophony of noise from the Autobots making him, Miko and Raf cover their ears as the bots spoke over each other in layers and in Neo Cybex- their species' main language.

Jack and Miko had no idea what they were saying, but it was loud and aggressive- Raf's face looked pinched and distressed as he glanced between each Autobot who stood once more. Wildly gesticulating to each other, to the screen, to Optimus, to each other, with varying expressions of emotions that kept changing.

Alright, they weren't just not okay- they were… upset, to say the least.

Honestly calling them upset was an understatement. Optimus was struggling to keep the team calm, he kept faltering, glancing back to the screen with this weird look on his face and then to Ratchet who looked torn between furious, worried, concerned, horrified- there was a lot of emotions on the alien doctor's face. But the moment Ratchet saw Optimus' look of helplessness?

The medic took in a deep breath and shouted, thankfully in English. "ALRIGHT THAT'S ENOUGH!" His servos were tight over his datapad, Jack was surprised the thing hadn't cracked from how tight it looked like he was holding it. "That's enough."

"But Ratchet-" Arcee tried to start but was swiftly interrupted by the medic. "Enough." He gave her a look and that seemed enough to make her back off, but she didn't look happy. Ratchet was the same, but he was making an effort to stay calm. Or at least, give Optimus time to recompose himself.

"Autobots," Optimus started, gaining their attention once again. He was firmly looking away from the screen, even when the others couldn't help but look back to it as he spoke. "I know this situation is… unprecedented, and… distressing. However we must keep in mind that this is an alternate universe. What happens in this universe, the moments, the people, the— relationships… They are out of our control, and likely, the things that we see will not or cannot be applied here."

Was it just Jack or was there something else underneath Optimus' stern tone? There was some reassurance sure but like, there was… something else there. That Jack couldn't exactly name…

( Once there was an archivist and a gladiator.

Once they were friends.

They could have been more.

The archivist is gone, the ex-gladiator snarled to himself. Emotions, thoughts and feelings from a life before the war bubbling to the surface before focusing back to what he's just saw. That damned kiss, that softness, that intimacy… Had he not once craved it from the archivist once?

The archivist is gone, all that is left is the Prime.

So how could his other ever think of the Prime when their archivist was the one who won their spark? And then betrayed their trust? )

It might not just be Jack because Ratchet is giving Optimus a look, something complicated, something helpless yet angry, something old. And Optimus… is looking away from him. Face completely stoic, but his eyes… are sad and confused, and other emotions that Jack can't really decipher. Then it all disappears and his eyes are inscrutable, unknowable. It's kinda startling, but the emotions that were there were just... gone. A calm look replacing them.

He looks back to Miko, thinks about what she was about to say back then. Her words are probably more accurate than she realized in more ways than one, in more worlds than one, but unlike the 'Mecha' universe, theirs is…

Clearly, there was more history between Megatron and Optimus Prime than Jack realized.

History that Jack can't really ask about, not now. He's not even sure if he wants to ask in the first place. Tensions and emotions were too high and Jack was hesitant to break it, unsure of what the outcome would be. Still, it begged the important question…

"So… do we continue or should we take another break?" He asked, loud enough to gain everyone's attention. "I get it if you like, need to take a break from uh, this." He waves a hand, not exactly gesturing to the screen but he's pretty sure they all got what he meant.

"Honestly, we can pick this up again tomor—"

"Aw, what? No! We can't just stop here and now!" Miko interrupted, honestly Jack had been expecting her to interrupt sooner. "What'd we even do for the rest of our time here at base? We still got an hour 'till we gotta go home! So King Con and Optimus are like, dating there, super weird and disturbing for you guys. I know. But it's not all there is! There's a mystery going on over there and our counterparts are like, on Cybertron! Also, also, the Observer can't repair itself if we don't watch it so…" She tried to persuade, not wanting to stop just yet.

Jack sighed, rubbing his eyelids, "While you do have a point that the Observer can't be repaired without being watched Miko, doesn't mean we can't just continue tomorrow. It's not like the Observer's going anywhere." Sure, it did come out of nowhere in the Autobot base but there'd been a reason for that. Jack doubts it was going to just… disappear so soon, not when it was in need of repairs. It was probably why it come here in the first place or whatever.

Why it chose them in the first place, Jack didn't know and maybe he didn't want to.

"Ultimately, it's up to bots here. While the three of us have control over the Observer, they also deserve the right to want to continue or not." Jack insisted firmly. It had been by sheer dumb luck that he, Miko and Raf got control over the Observer. And in all honesty, it shouldn't have been them.

This was cybertronian tech they were dealing with, even more than that, it was from another dimension- it was way above their league and non-existent payroll. The controls should've been one of the Autobots, Optimus more likely.

Miko pouted, "Raf?" She tried, looking over to the youngest of their trio only to frown when the boy fiddled with his fingers and glasses.

"I do wanna keep watching but!" Raf continued hastily, giving Miko a look. "It's not fair to make the bots watch something they don't wanna watch, Miko."

The girl looked around, seeing the conflicted faces of their alien guardian and friends. A twinge of guilt briefly appearing before she shook her head and sighed, "Yeah, good point." She begrudgingly backed off with a nod. "So? What's the verdict? We stoppin' here or is it on with the show?"

The Autobots exchanged uneasy looks, "… Those in favor of continuing the viewing?" Optimus questioned quietly, his servo raises. After a moment, Bumblebee's servo raises as well as Arcee, which surprised Jack considering their reaction to Megatron kissing Optimus earlier on but y'know what. He wasn't going to question it.

"Really Bee? Arcee?" Bulkhead gaped, confused by their decision. Ratchet looked like he swallowed a lemon, or a cybertronian-equivalent of something extremely sour.

Bumblebee whirred, beeping and speaking that binary language that Jack, unfortunately, couldn't understand. "Bee says he wants to see the others, wants to see Senscript wake up and Cybertron. Also himself, if he's there." Raf translated to Jack and Miko.

Arcee shrugged, rubbing her neck with a sigh. "… There's a mystery about the missing relics going on, plus… Cliff's there. Maybe… Tailgate is too." Tailgate? Who was…

Jack suddenly thought about the first time he met Arachnid, of the spider-bot's taunts to Arcee about a previous partner. Ah.

Ratchet let out a deep sigh, pressing his fingers into his eyelids. "Fine. We're outnumbered, we'll continue watching this… until the children have to go home." Jack feels a little guilty because the medic sounds frustrated and tired, but a part of him- the dumb little monkey brain part that liked watching interesting stuff on TV- couldn't help but look forward to seeing more of 'Alien Mecha' universe.

Because it wasn't everyday that you would peer into an entirely different reality where things were extremely different.

Still, Jack wouldn't have complained if the Autobots had decided otherwise. "Alright, we'll continue watching. But at any point, if uh, anyone wants to stop for some reason. Just, let us know, okay?" He questioned, just to make sure to the bots that they still had a choice to watching or not. He still stood by the fact that he, Miko and Raf probably shouldn't have control over something like the Observer after all. "We'll stop no matter what."

"Thanks Jack." Arcee said with a small smile, something that the other bots mirrored along with a little nod of acknowledgement. Jack felt a bit flustered by it but smiled back reassuringly, waving off the thanks.

"Anytime."

Miko clapped once, "Alright! On with the show it is! Observer! Hit it! Continue!" She declared with fanfare, looking back to the frozen screen of Megatron and Optimus looking softly at each other. The scene lingered for a moment before thankfully changing.

( On a warship, a controlled pandemonium happened within a viewing room. A seeker was torn between laughing or shrieking, going between both at a moment's notice. An ex-Wrecker was silently being shaken by a stammering medic, only moving when the medic nearly fell out of his chair to catch him. A femme was frozen in place, yet her optics were searching, calculating.

They did not notice their silent final member leaving the room, leaving behind a precious companion before following after their warlord leader. The only one who was not surprised by the turn of events, not really. He finds the warlord within the nearest training room, snarling and punching the wall.

"What is it Soundwave?! Unless it's something important, leave me be."

Despite the command, the silent mech continued to stand there, before their visor turned on as back in the room, streamed by his flying companion, the screen moved once more.

The warlord paused, sneering. "The Autobots have decided to continue watching? That was surprisingly quick of them." The mech does not comment on the hint of bitterness in his lord's voiceprint. "… Just what is going on within that base." And though there were rumors of the silent mech's abilities, he does not have them. Yet he does not need them to know the silent question going through his lord's processor.

What is going on within Optimus Prime's mind. )

[ A small boy sat on a chair, wires and patches connected to him as he tried not to move. In his hands, was an old and partially broken yellow toy car that he focused on as there were murmurs and beeping all around him. ]

"Raf! It's you!" Miko exclaimed immediately when they saw the little boy on the screen. He looked so… small, and disheveled with how messy his hair was while in that medical gown.

Jack noticed something, "The edges of the screen are tinted white again." He mumbled, frowning as he remembered the last time it happened. Taking a deep breath and trying not to remember-

"JACK!" "Take Jack and run—"

Welp, too late. Jack shook his head desperately, not wanting to think of his mother's hypothetical and implied death. Even in another world. Instead, he focused on the screen again.

In his field of view, he can see Ratchet both relieved yet glaring at the screen. Probably relieved at the fact they were no longer looking at uh, both Mecha Megatron and Optimus but not liking the fact he was seeing Mech Raf hooked up to something else. They all suspected what this was, where Raf was.

The uniform in the background worn by one of the faceless men confirmed it when they wandered by the screen. Raf- Senscript, was with MECH. Whatever this was, they were testing Raf and none of them liked that.

( "Hmph, it's ridiculous just how small humans can be. Senscript is even smaller than his counterpart here." A seeker snorted, shaking his helm. )

[ "..igh sync-rate…""Haven't seen that since Batch-00 with that girl…""And that boy from Batch-05…""..uck gold, kid's an orphan so MECH…"

At the word 'orphan', the boy winced, clutching his toy car with a scowl on his face. Eyes narrowed and shining, wet, but not a single tear formed. ]

Jack tensed the moment the word 'orphan' was used, his eyes immediately darting over to the pale and wide-eyed face of his friend. "Raf…"

"I'm… an orphan, there?" Raf whispered, hugging himself and holding on to his elbows as he tried to imagine that. Jack knew of Raf's family, two older siblings and one baby sibling. A large family that, even though they were busy and Raf confessed that he sometimes felt like he couldn't be heard in his family, still loved him all the same. But there?

Senscript's family was gone.

Senscript was alone.

Miko reached over to give him a one-armed hug, trying to give reassurance to the pale-faced boy. "It's gonna be okay. Your family's alright here and hey, Mecha Raf gets to meet us pretty early since we're at MECH too." She tried to say optimistically.

The bots watched on with sadness, Bee beeping and whirring something that had Raf smiling weakly in gratitude.

Jack however, couldn't help but wonder how both he and Miko ended up with MECH in the first place. Were they orphans too? Jack probably was, the implications about his mother were clear but his father… he hasn't seen that man in years. Was he dead too if Jack was with MECH?

"And that boy from Batch-05…"

And Miko…

"Haven't seen that since Batch-00 with that girl…"

He glanced over to her, she didn't seem to be wondering the same thing. Focusing more on Raf. He shook his head, focusing back to the screen. Tensing once again as Shockwave came into view, a spotlight appeared on both Senscript and Shockwave while the rest of the world seemed to disappear.

What?

( "How cinematic." A medic murmured and then frowned, "Wait, the last time we saw a scene with white frosting the edges… it was at the very beginning when Tailbreaker was asleep, no?"

An arachnoid femme smiled sharply, nodding to him, "Asleep… dreaming about his mother's death." )

[ Shockwave stood before him, tall, hands behind his back and the red lenses of his cycloptic mask gleaming red. "Rafael Esquivel." The man started, voice monotone. "You have a high synchronization rate with mecha technology. Do you understand what that means?"

The boy paused, gripping the yellow car tightly before nodding. "I can… pilot one. A mecha."

"Good. You're smart, as I suspected you are. We've cross referenced your scores from both school and the written test we had you do before this examination. It's impressive, you're more than qualified than to pilot a mecha." The man tilted his head, "MECH is interested in potential pilots, regardless of age. You will be chosen, you will be made into a pilot. You will have no choice."

"I won't have a choice?"

"No. However, the type of pilot they will make you- I believe to be wrong. They see another potential striker, I see something more. So I will give you a choice. You will still become a pilot, but you can choose a different class type than the one that MECH intends for you to have."

The young boy glanced up at him before down to his toy car, he fidgeted with the wheels, each one mismatched and different. "… What's the catch? You're giving me a choice, but it's not for free. You want something from me."

He glanced up when the man huffed, "Like I said; smart… I need that. And your high synchronization. I intend to take custody of you, make you my assistant. You will aid me in my experiments and projects, you will aid me in reaching my over all goal." Suddenly, there was a pilot's helmet in his hands, he was positioning it over the boy's head.

"What's your goal?" The boy asked, nose bleeding onto his yellow car. "What am I suppose to do?"

Shockwave didn't hesitate, sliding the helm over the boy's head. It's a perfect fit.

"Find him."

And the world around him turned green with alien text. ]

"This isn't a flashback, or a memory," not completely anyway, "it's a dream!" Jack realized abruptly having sensed something wrong the moment he noticed the white tinted edges that looked so similar to how they first started watching the universe. Senscript was asleep, and he was dreaming, or at least, Jack was pretty sure of it by now.

Especially when Shockwave suddenly produced a pilot's helmet out of fragging nowhere.

Bumblebee had been tense the entire time Shockwave had appeared on screen before young Raf, whirring and beeping quietly, only growing louder the moment he saw Senscript's nose bleed again and shouting something like a protest when Shockwave slid the helmet over the boy's head.

The others weren't doing any better, just as tense and wary and just as concerned. Ratchet swearing lowly in Neo Cybex- Jack didn't understand it sure, but did the medic forget that Raf could understand him? Speaking of Raf, the poor kid was pale, holding on to Miko as he watched the entire thing. Did he regret wanting to continue watching?

Jack scooted a bit closer to Raf and Miko, slipping a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. When Raf looked over, Jack gave him a reassuring smile. Something Raf appreciated with a small smile of his own and a nod. Jack looked over to Miko, she had a small look of regret but was stubbornly keeping quiet, when she noticed Jack's gaze, she gave him a defiant look.

It turned slightly apologetic when her eyes darted back to the screen.

( "Oh yeah, seems like the kid's dreaming." An Ex-Wrecker commented, "Humans don't have subspaces for stuff like that helmet to just appear."

His medic conjunx hummed in agreement, "Though some pretend they do, magicians and illusionists- I'll admit, their attempts are pretty good but it's all tricks and admittedly impressive skills, sleight of hand. Clever little things…"

"Considering their current age of technology, subspacing is way out of their league for the moment." A Seeker muttered to himself, raising an optic ridge as the screen turned green. "Find who?"

That was an important question that both sides had been silently asking. )

[ "Find him."

The world was green as veils of shifting text and words dropped from the sky. Each letter changing from one language to the next, indecipherable from how it constantly transformed. The boy was suddenly older, in a pilot's suit tailored to him, the helmet still firmly on his head as he looked around with gritted teeth.

"Find him."

A cord was connected to the back of the helmet, disappearing into the shadows between the shifting curtains of text, script and code. Numbers, letters, symbols, recognizable the not. The spotlight above the boy shifted from its fluorescent white to an ominous and heavy red as the veils began to flap and sway from an unseen wind. Scripture flying off the dark fabric and into the air, beginning to swirl around him.

"Find him."

Shockwave's voice echoed, as Senscript desperately tried to catch the letters, to make them stop changing, to put them together, to decode the information that was beginning to swarm him. The cord coiling around his feet as he continued to piece together numbers, letters and symbols that kept changing despite his attempts.

"Find—"

His nose was still bleeding, the letters began to fall on his feet, turning to green sludge that was quickly growing to his waist as he struggled, agonizingly decoding letter by letter, each one glitching as if struggling to keep still.

P R - J E - T

"—Him!"

C - I M E R -

He looks up, the sludge overtaking his neck to see Shockwave. A titan looking down on him, the red glow of his mask's single optic lens giving Senscript the spotlight before the boy sunk into darkness. A hand feebly reaching out before disappearing down below as well. ]

"What the fuck."

In any other situation, Jack would probably reprimand Miko for the actual, visceral human swear she made. But she said it softly, with feeling, feelings that Jack was probably feeling and couldn't exactly explain because-

Well, Miko said it pretty accurately, another reason why Jack didn't do anything else but weakly nudge the girl above Raf's head.

What the fuck indeed.

Raf was giving the screen an understandably confused and concerned look- they all were. Them, the bots, Jack even gave the faint thought of amusement that the cons would be looking at the screen with the same emotions too if they were watching.

But they weren't. Still, it was a funny thought.

( "What the frag." )

"Are… are all human dreams that… concerning?" Bulkhead hesitantly questioned, looking over to them on the couch.

Right, cybertronians didn't really dream. They had recharge fluxes which were mostly just fragments of memory files buffering through their processors from time to time before being filed away again- or something. Jack needs to pay attention more when the bots explained things, which he usually did, but the whole situation that lead up to Raf asking if cybertronians had dreams had been long and Jack had been pretty exhausted from a particularly bad shift as his job at Knock Out Burgers. (Did the Decepticon even know there was a fast food joint that had his name on it? He probably wouldn't like it considering it was human food and all that, but still.)

"Um, weird? Definitely, sometimes even weirder." Miko answered with a shrug, "But concerning like that? Not really?"

"Not unless you endured something traumatic I assume." Ratchet muttered, optics narrowed down at his datapad with an angry frown. He was probably looking up stuff about humans again, Jack wonders what he typed in.

Maybe something like, 'Humans weird dreams'?

Or even, 'Concerning dreams'.

'What effects a dream'?

Jack shook his head, he got distracted there for a moment but was snapped out of it when he heard the angry revving from Raf's favorite bot. Bumblebee was glaring at the screen, beeping something kind of quietly, something underneath his breath maybe? "I guess. Still, that ending- those letters, were those something he legit found or just something his dream conjured up?" Jack couldn't help but question. "Senscript was looking through that Quintesson Commander's head for a while now, and by the looks of things, Shockwave had a private goal or mission for him to do."

"Find him." Arcee repeated with a grimace, "Question is, who's him?"

( "So humans experience 'dreams' that are influenced by their memories, or information they gain as they grow up. Major events can influence their state of unconsciousness and have reoccurring dreams- basically it's a more nonsensical flux state for them." A medic said aloud, daring to be a bit louder in his findings now that their leader was currently not present. "Oh, however, some humans don't experience dreams. So they end up recharging like us, interesting."

A seeker hummed, reaching over to open a new website on the medic's datapad. The medic grunted but strangely did not protest. "Humans are strange creatures, trying to find symbolisms and meaning in their chaotic organic fluxes. These dreams are influenced by memory and information, yet some claim to have prophetic dreams or dreams related to the divine… The mental state of Senscript depicts something important though, Shockwave has clearly appointed him with an important task the moment he was chosen for MECH's mecha program."

"He wants the kid to find someone the Quintessons are related to, we don't know who, why, where, or what the frag he wants." An ex-wrecker muttered, a bit uncomfortable in his seat.

An arachnoid femme chuckled, "Must be rather important, for Senscript to dream of such things… It's rather obvious what he found in the end, assuming he did find something legitimate- although the letters were shifting, I believe we know what it spells out; Project Chimera…" )

[ Senscript woke up with a choked gasp, body aching and sight completely black. He didn't panic though, feeling the familiar weight on his head. He couldn't hear, he couldn't see, but that was just fine with him as he felt someone tap against his palm in morse code.

S-A-F-E

Safe, they were safe. Not back at base though, otherwise he'd be feeling a line in his veins and wires on his skin. "Water…" He rasped, feeling his dry throat. His entire body felt like one big throbbing wound, which was normal since he probably underwent majority of the symptoms of clock out unconscious.

He felt someone -the hand was thick, Jack, Tailbreaker- lift his head and offer water to him. He drank in sips, knowing better than to just drink in big gulps. He took his time, if things were urgent then his teammates would've let him know.

Senscript refused the offered water after a few minutes, brows furrowing as he regained enough composure. "Need my shades." He said aloud as his hand went to the headphones on his head. He cranked down the noise-canceling effect, bracing himself for any loud noises but was thankful not to hear anything. "What's our status?" ]

"He's used to waking up blinded and deaf." Ratchet muttered lowly, but it was loud enough that Jack heard it anyway. It made him grimace alongside the medic as he thought of how Senscript was at the beginning. Sensitive to light and sound… not to mention the clock out symptoms.

Senscript was Jack's age right now, and Jack couldn't stand it when he stubbed his toe. He can't even imagine or fathom the pain that Senscript must be feeling. The pain of the pilots who suffered from clock out, detaching from their mechas and suffering the consequences of directly connecting to hundreds of tons of steel.

But he can imagine what type it is, being the son of a nurse who's visited the hospital multiple times exposed him to different kinds of pains. From what he can see, these symptoms were mostly chronic pain, something involving the mecha pilot's nervous systems, obviously. Still, that didn't really fill Jack with confidence, chronic pain shouldn't be felt by teens his age…

Then again, it was pretty obvious that teens his age shouldn't be piloting mechas.

"Morse code." Raf muttered, nodding to himself.

Jack hummed, "Guess pilots would obviously know morse code for emergencies." The only morse code he knew was S-O-S, mostly because his mother made him learn it… maybe he should learn more, just in case. He'll see if Miko was up to learn with him.

[ "Buckle up Raf, we're definitely not in Kansas anymore." Was what he first heard as his blindfold was taken off, though he kept his eyes closed until he could feel shades slide onto his face.

"What does that mean Mi… ko?" Senscript questioned, a bit annoyed but his annoyance dropped at the end as he immediately noticed the abnormally large room they were in. The space was large enough to fit multiple mechas- as demonstrated by Senscript's and an unknown mecha standing in the corner.

What really caught his attention though, was the fact the furniture of the room, aside from the immediate ones around him, were clearly fit for mechas. There was a gigantic roller chair in the room, alongside a desk, as well as a large slab of metal that looked like a cot. On the walls were a couple of screens that were depicting a language he both recognized and did not recognize. "What."

Tailbreaker sighed while Wrecker gave him a gigantic grin, excitedly gesturing to a man that Senscript had never met personally but knew for several reasons. "… Wheeljack?" The man waved from where he lounged on a roughly-made couch.

"There's a lot to talk about." Tailbreaker told him bluntly. ]

While his counterpart explained what happened to an increasingly gaping Senscript, Jack couldn't help but think again on how his counterpart came to become part of MECH. Become a pilot. A child soldier, as Ratchet had darkly said earlier on.

The brash, teenage part of him bristled at being called a child but seeing the part of the dream of where Senscript was essentially recruited into MECH without another choice as a kid- Ratchet was right. That part had to have been a memory, some parts had been a bit too vivid, and it made sense considering Senscript was Jack's age now and… Miko had been the same age when she first met Wheeljack years ago.

Child soldiers.

It's not something he expected to hear outside of fiction or even history, and even then, school education tended to gloss over that tidbit. Hell, he knows his maternal grandfather had joined the army underaged, but he'd been around- what, 17? 18? Barely at start of adulthood, just at the end of being a teenager.

But this… this was going even younger. Recruiting when they weren't even ten years old. How old had Jack been when they recruited him? Recruited Miko?

It made a sick feeling swirl in his stomach as he thought more into it, he doesn't know how his counterpart could deal with that. Could deal with his friends being forced into danger like that- he was already stressed whenever Miko jumped into something voluntarily and inevitably dragging him and Raf with her. He's both impressed and concerned for Tailbreaker, distractedly watching him explain their situation to Senscript.

Tailbreaker's mom was dead, his father probably was too, by the looks of things he didn't have any extended family. If some things stayed the same despite being in another world, his grandparents probably died when Tailbreaker was young which left him vulnerable. Recruited by MECH to become a pilot at a way, too early age. Killing aliens that were trying to invade his home planet, having watched probably thousands of people get killed by said aliens and now they were on another planet entirely.

MECH didn't seem to personally care that three of their pilots were gone- only that their investments were wasted and their mechas and precious prototype were missing. Did anyone even miss Tailbreaker back on earth? Or were the only ones who would miss him by his side or dead?

Jack jolted in place when he felt a small hand grasp his elbow, he looked to his side to see Raf giving him a concerned look. "Jack? You okay?" He asked quietly, grasping his sleeve in a tight, yet grounding and comforting way. It's not that funny, but it was the other way around just a few minutes ago.

Dammit.

The eldest teen took in a deep breath, held it in until his chest began to ache a bit before letting go. Giving his friend a reassuring smile, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Just— overthinking… things."

Overthinking of how Tailbreaker was probably feeling, how stressed he was underneath that calm demeanor and how much he missed his mom. Because that's what Jack would probably feel.

[ "… That explains some of the files I managed to decode." Was Senscript's response after the explanation. Surprising the three pilots as he sat up with a loud groan, Tailbreaker was quick to help him up, making sure he was comfortable even.

"Files?" Tailbreaker asked in the meanwhile before it immediately clicked, "From the XT- no, the Quintesson Commander? You actually managed to get information and files from that thing's head?"

Senscript nodded, wincing at the motion but he spoke. "I did- live and field testing with the cortical psychic patch was a success." He even sounded a bit proud and smug over the fact.

"A success?" Wrecker repeated in disbelief, "Raf, you got knocked unconscious by that commander! You were connected to its brain and it messed you up! Thankfully Ratchet's scans said there wasn't any internal bleeding in your head, but clearly it knocked a screw or two loose in there!"

Senscript scowled at her, "I still succeeded in gaining information from the Quintessons- not all of the info is decoded. I'm not sure if I got everything from the commander's processors, I just need to clock into my me—" He was just about to get off the bed before a hand firmly stopped him.

"No." Tailbreaker interrupted sternly, "You need to rest, your senses are heightened, you're clearly not over clock out yet and you haven't even eaten anything. You've just had water."

The younger pilot reared back, "But the info—" I need to find him!

"Can wait." Tailbreaker interrupted again, rifling through a bag to get out a ration bar and offer it to him. "You know as much as I do how important taking care of our health is, Raf. Besides, we're going to need it." Senscript frowned but accepted the bar anyway, giving him a questioning look from underneath his shades. "We're meeting with the leaders of Cybertron in a few hours." ]

"Find who?" Miko groaned, even she was disapproving at the fact Senscript wanted to get back into his mecha- he looked like scrap! And even though she didn't know if being unconscious counted as rest, he still looked like he needed like, a nap! "Just who is it that Doc Shock wants Raf to find? And just what does he want with that info anyway?"

"No idea, but considering it's Shockwave? Nothing good." Bulkhead grunted, wary and concerned. "I'm just wondering why Raf's willing to do so much for Shockwave. Raf's smart, no matter the universe. He'd know that Shockwave ain't up to anything good."

Ratchet grunted, scowling down to his datapad. "Just because he's smart doesn't mean he won't be unaffected by the fact that Shockwave took him into his custody. I find that humans get emotionally attached to even the strangest of beings despite prior interactions being less than… optimistic." He muttered, tapping the screen a bit aggressively.

It took Jack a moment to think over his words before he snorted, something that Arcee noticed and quickly concluded the same thing herself. She smirked, aiming it at the medic, "You mean like how Miko, Jack and Raf are attached to you Ratchet, despite you being a grump?" She teased, barely able to stifle her laughter at the glare she got from said grump of a medic.

Arcee's smirk turned into a full on grin as Jack and his friends laughed and giggled, Bulkhead and Bumblebee trying not to laugh and earn the ire of the medic, even Optimus looked visibly amused. Aiming a look at the medic that had him wordlessly spluttering.

Still, Jack's laugh didn't last long as he thought about what Ratchet said because he had a point. Senscript was young, even if he was smart, he'd get attached to Shockwave one way or another. Especially if Shockwave was smart enough, which he probably was, to treat him decently enough to form those attachments. And telling how Senscript was willing to get back into the mech so soon, by his determination to find this mysterious 'him' for the scientist- he'd succeeded.

Jack could only hope that either Senscript would break that attachment now that he was away from Shockwave, or that Shockwave was better as a human than a mech. Better than the terrifying mech the bots made his counterpart to be. Humans were rarely completely emotionless after all, Shockwave had to think Senscript was more than just a means to an end right?

…

[ Senscript gave a thoughtful noise, "Optimus Prime and Lord Megatron right?"

"Yea-P!" Wrecker confirmed, exaggerating the last letter with a slight pop. "Wheeljack's been telling us all about them while you were down, apparently 'Prime' is like, an old and religious title- think Pope but for space alien robots."

Wheeljack nodded, "Yeah, and technically it's Lord High Protector Megatron- but that's a mouthful so Lord Megatron or Lord Protector is usually more common. Prime looks over the Autobots and civilian matters of Cybertron while Lord Protector goes over the Decepticon and military but when it comes to Neutrals or outsiders like us, they handle it together. Same with real important stuff, like the Quintessons. 'Course, they also prod into each other's domains on some occasion, usually when they have to but yeah."

The youngest pilot frowned, "Is there a difference between Autobots and Decepticons?"

Wheeljack paused, "… They're factions, used to be at war with each other before the Quintessons."

The three MECH pilots shared a look. "They were at war with each other?" Wrecker repeated with a frown, "So like, when the Quintessons came they set aside their differences and worked together? It's not that farfetched, back home, tons of countries worked together…"

"The enemy of my enemy is an ally." Tailbreaker muttered, making Wheeljack nod. "Better to stand together than fight each other and another enemy who clearly wants you both dead." ]

"It's a military title." Arcee murmured, a pinched, uncomfortable look on her face. "I don't think I'm comfortable with Megatron leading the military but honestly, it fits the fragger."

Bulkhead grunted in agreement, hard-eyed and scowling. "Can't exactly imagine him doing anything else." He admitted, trying to imagine the tyrant in any other position other than leading a military- so used to seeing the silver mech in combat or leading decepticon soldiers that trying to think of him doing otherwise was genuinely baffling.

"Is the title 'Prime' actually a religious one? I thought it meant you'd be leading the whole of Cybertron if it weren't for the Decepticons." Jack asked in a curious tone, looking over to the one who bore said title. Both Miko and Raf were similarly curious. Curious enough that they temporarily paused the viewing, Raf calling it out this time, since it was clear the explanation was going to take a while.

Optimus hummed, approving over the human's want to learn more about Cybertron and its culture and history. "Somewhat. In the beginning, there were religious connections to the title of 'Prime', stemming back to the first Thirteen Primes, however over time- the role of Prime became more of a political leadership title presiding over Cybertron. Even after the main artifact that bestowed the title of 'Prime', was temporarily lost."

Miko tilted her head, "Main artifact? What's that? What gave bots the title?" From the sounds of things, Jack had thought that maybe they had voted in Primes like presidents or maybe it was a bloodline thing like old royalty. But if it was an artifact that gave cybertronians the title of Prime…

"The Matrix of Leadership." Optimus told them with a quiet tone that held weight to it. The very name of it seemed to charge the air, the Autobots nodding with him in pride with a type of awe. Matrix of Leadership, that certainly sounded important. Also, it was in the very name itself- Leadership. No wonder they'd use it to decide who was in charge.

But… didn't Optimus say it was temporarily lost though? What had happened?

Before Jack could even ask that, Miko surprisingly came in with a question of her own. "Matrix- didn't Megatron mention that earlier on?" She questioned, freezing the atmosphere as she continued. "Something, something… relying on it, or something?"

The antenna-like dials on Optimus' head flicked, something flashed over Optimus' face before he was back to normal. His eyes though… they were a bit dimmer than before. Miko frowned before looking thoughtful again, "Hey wait, does that mean you have the Matrix of Leadership? I mean, you're Optimus Prime after all."

Strangely, Optimus didn't reply, it was Ratchet who did instead. "Indeed, Optimus bears the Matrix of Leadership, although beforehand- he was also nominated as Prime by council vote." Ratchet told her with a stiff nod. "At the time though, he was not known as Optimus Prime, but instead; Orion Pax."

All three humans blinked, "Orion Pax." Raf echoed, clearly thinking of the actor who played Optimus Prime in the previous world. "Like Orion Nox?"

"It was a surprise, to say the least, to see the mech and hear his designation." Ratchet said, relaxing a bit with a small chuckle. Nudging Optimus whose eyes glowed a bit brighter, a small smile appearing on his face. "It seems that Orion Nox will share Jackson Darby's predicament in sharing a similar names to the roles they play should they decide to… reveal Optimus' origins. If it is the same."

Jack snorted, a small grin on his face as he remembered the exasperation his counterpart had at the fact he was sharing a name with a fictional character… with him. He wasn't a fictional character here but- well, yeah. Just what were the chances, huh?

( The Decepticons within the room wondered just why the viewing was paused, annoyed by the lack of control they had over the Observer and its shown contents. Still, they took the time to review what they'd seen so far, spanning from the first world to the current.

Though soon enough, there were a few snide comments being exchanged between an irate seeker and a sly arachnoid, a vain medic and his usually lax conjunx watched with tense silence until the medic finally chimed in with a barbed comment of his own, aimed at the femme who grinned sharply at him and his conjunx.

Although before she could retort, the door opened to reveal their warlord leader who had left earlier on without a word, followed closely by his ever silent third in command and communicators officer. Effectively silencing the brewing argument that would've started within the room.

The warlord scowled at the platitudes and simpering at his return, ceasing them as soon as possible in favor of having his third in command continue his duties and to take note of the definition of 'Lord High Protector'.

The title hadn't been fully explained, there was clearly more to it than just control over the military and his own faction. Just like there was clearly more to it to him and the alternate version of his nemesis… not that he would bring it to light. Nobody dared to do so, though it was no doubt still at the forefront of their processors.

That intimate moment… The warlord firmly ignored it.

Now was not the time, nor was any time if he had anything to say about it.

A part of him dreaded for what was to come, for what would be shown. However the potential knowledge that would come would have to be worth it.

It had to be.

Yet a small part of him, a part he had thought he had killed long ago, was hungry and yearning. )

[ "Yep, and for factions that were at war with each other- they're doing pretty damn well working together 'gainst the Quints." Wheeljack said, leaning back against the couch.

Senscript frowned, "Do they know why the Quintessons are attacking them? We still don't know why they're attacking Earth of all places."

"Wouldn't you know now though? You were the one who was in that commander's head." Wrecker pointed out though was surprised when Senscript waved her assumption away with an irritated sigh.

"You really think I'd know everything in that thing's head? I still haven't decoded and decrypted what I managed to get before it booted me out! What happened to it anyway?"

He took another sip of water while Tailbreaker grunted out a reply, "Dead. It landed first on Cybertron after that portal-" "Spacebridge." Both Wheeljack and Senscript corrected, though Wheeljack sent Senscript a look of surprise but nodded in understanding when Senscript pointed at his head and mouthed 'cortical patch link'. "Spacebridge, right, thanks- kidnapped us and took us to an entirely new location. Miko… ended up landing on it, crushed its head."

Wrecker gave a disgusted noise, groaning to herself, "Pretty sure most of it was scraped off while running around for safety but I think some of its brains is still in the crevices of my mecha's foot. That's going to be a nightmare to get without the clean-up crew, ugh." She looked over to the still somewhat dirty mechas that were in the room, her own was outside to conserve some space.

"Don't worry girl, I gotcha." Wheeljack soothed, grinning widely with a glint of wickedness. "Considering I've been stuck here on my own fighting the Quints with the bots and cons- you didn't think I wouldn't come up with something for cleaning Quint guts did you?"

Wrecker cheered from where she sat, "Wheeljack, you're a fucking saint!" ]

"Oh, ew, I didn't think about how gross it would be to clean up Quintesson guts." Miko said with a similarly disgusted look on her face.

"Piloting a mecha and fighting aliens is cool and all, but of course we gotta deal with the aftermath." Jack laughed, amused by Miko's disgust. Which he did share, but he was just glad that he wasn't a pilot- not only for the very obvious red signs of child soldier, fighting aliens, life in constant danger in the suit; but also the little things like that.

The most he's had to clean up was cleaning up messes from work, which could be pretty gross depending on what happened but cleaning up the blood and guts of an alien off a giant mecha suit? No thanks!

"At the very least, you guys can get out and clean the suits- but us cybertronians, we gotta deal with stuff like that ourselves." Arcee pointed out both amused yet dismayed. All three humans cringed, imagining having to clean up something that bad on their own bodies- it was bad enough as flesh and blood but seeing the seams and corners, nooks and crannies on the bots, Jack shuddered.

Bee beeped something, whatever it was, Raf gave Bee a look of pity and sympathy. "Aw, that's awful Bee. Um, I know Cybertronian baths are different and all, but would a carwash be nice? I know a good one that you and the other bots might enjoy."

The Autobots perked and Miko sat up, "Oh! Oh! Is it the one to the west of Jaspers? I know that place!" She tilted her head, looking over the bots. "It's been like, how many years since you guys were on Earth? Have you been in a carwash?"

"A few times, bit hard to get in though considering we don't have drivers." Bulkhead sighed, somewhat disappointed. "Or money to use them. Fowler sometimes helps actually, but not often."

Miko frowned before letting out a thoughtful hum, "Well, we should check it out at some point! You're looking a bit dusty anyway Bulk!"

The heavy mech looked over himself, "Am I really?"

( A medic who liked looking his best shuddered, "I am so glad the Nemesis has decent washracks, it can't compare to a high-end oil bath and spa but it's certainly good enough. I can't imagine what primitive way those Autobots are doing to stay clean- they don't even buffer themselves regularly!" He groaned to his conjunx who gave him an amused and exasperated look for his dramatics.

Although he wasn't as colorful as his medical comrade, a seeker couldn't help but nod in agreement. Grimacing over the thought of the washing stations that Earth had for their vehicles. Although some did look rather… compelling to try- not that he ever would. )

[ Wheeljack gave her a smug look before it changed into a thoughtful one, "Say kid, you got any info on the Apex Armor? That thing you guys found? I haven't seen Mags or the others be this jittery since the attack on Caminus- a cybertronian colony nearby."

Senscript huffed at being called a kid but paused, "A bit? It was something I was reading on before that commander screwed me over… There might be more data in my mecha that I'll need to look into, but basically it's some powerful ancient weapon kind of deal. It was the priority of the commander to excavate it from Earth and take it back to… Quintessa?"

"Quintessa… that's a two-fold name, it's the Quintesson's home planet and the name of their head honcho. The big bad empress herself; Quintessa." Wheeljack explained, a shadowy slim figure appearing behind him with multiple glowing green eyes and lines as well as numerous tentacles coming from the shadows.

"Quintessa?" Wrecker repeated with her nose scrunching in distaste and confusion, "What is up with these names? Quintessons, Quintessa- what's next? Quinteflons or something?" She and Wheeljack shared a snicker, grinning widely.

Tailbreaker looked over to Wheeljack, "You didn't answer Raf's question, why are the Quintessons attacking Earth? Or Cybertron for that matter?"

The amusement fell from Wheeljack's face and he sighed, "Nothing much different from when a country invades on our planet kid; power, resources, maybe even something religious. I think it's all three for Cybertron, I think ours was just caught in the crossfire since the Apex Armor was on it- or maybe it's just another world to conquer for them. Who knows, any attempts for negotiations or deals were pretty much ignored."

Wheeljack's voice continued as the scene changed to Optimus and Megatron walking down the halls of a medical facility, led by Ratchet.

"Peace ain't an option for the Quintessons, and whatever they want, they're determined to get." ]

"Quintessa…" Optimus murmured, looking deep in thought. Ratchet gave him a look and the Prime shook his head, focusing back on the screen and Jack wondered what he'd been thinking about.

Miko snickered to herself, "Quinteflon." She laughed with Wheeljack and her other, sharing a grin with Bulkhead who found it just as funny. "You gotta admit, the naming sucks."

"Doesn't matter if the names suck, they're still a threat to Earth." Jack pointed out, making her pout.

"And we're back to Optimus and Megatron." Arcee muttered, glancing between the two on the screen with a pointed frown. Well, at the very least, they weren't being… intimate on screen again. And Ratchet was there, so things were bound to stay professional.

Bee tilted his head, beeping something and pointing to the screen. "Bee says they're in a medical facility in Helex. He recognizes the halls." Raf translated to both Jack and Miko. "Guess this is where Alpha Trion is staying."

( "The names are rather… lacking, I would've thought of something more impressive from the ones trying to invade and take over our planet."

The racing medic flinched in surprise when his leader let out a dark chuckle, "You would think so… until one remembers that one of the Thirteen was named Quintus Prime." His subordinates straightened in shock, finally remembering one of the venerated Primes of old.

"Are you suggesting that there is a connection between Quintus Prime, the Quintessons and this Quintessa character?" The seeker questioned before pausing, realizing quite quickly the point his leader was trying to make.

A single-optic'd mech grunted, "I mean, when you say it all together like that… All three of them start with Quint- it'd be one slag of a coincidence if they weren't at least connected to each other somewhat."

"Once is happenstance, twice a coincidence, thrice and it's a pattern." A femme commented, intrigued by the connections they were finding.

"Although this is the first time I've heard of Quintessa, the fact that there is so little information about the Quintessons among our history is suspicious." Their warlord of a leader murmured quietly, it was something that he'd been thinking of the moment it was confirmed what they were facing were Quintessons on screen in that world. "Either way, the names do not matter. What matters more, is the information this might bring." )

[ "Bringing him online from stasis is going to put risks and setbacks on his state." Ratchet mentioned as the three mechs headed down the halls of Helex's medical facility. "The more time he's awake, the more the virus eats at his processor and frame- not to mention the chance it might majorly mutate again. We can only modify your formula so much in so little time to combat whatever new symptoms and effects it'll create." He mentions, glancing over to Megatron.

Both Optimus and Megatron looked grim, "As much as it pains me to do so, we need answers, Ratchet. Answers that must be given as soon as possible."

"Has there been cases of the virus mutating again? I've not heard anything from the researchers so I can only assume either no, or that my current formula stands well enough against it." Megatron said, dermas pressed thinly but there was a glint in his optics- something akin to slight pride.

Ratchet nodded, "So far there were only a few small mutations, nothing the researchers couldn't handle. The current formula is formidable I'll give you that." He scoffed, a small rueful, heavy smirk on his faceplate as they stopped before a set of doors. "To think, the same cure of the plague you manufactured is the basis to the vaccine and possible cure for the biological nightmare that is the Quintesson's plague. I don't think I'd ever say this in any other situation, but I'm glad we didn't kill you when we had the chance." He half-joked, not even wincing when it fell flat.

Megatron briefly looked torn, between regret and pride before he shook his helm. "So am I." He replied softly, Optimus said nothing, but merely brushed a servo against Megatron's.

Ratchet vented before reaching over the servoscanner and numberlock to open the thick, medical doors, revealing a large room filled with medical stasis pods of several sizes. There were two attendees, checking over the pods, "Come back later." Ratchet instructed strictly to the femme and mech attendees who wordlessly nodded and left as swiftly as possible. ]

"Alpha Trion is truly alive… but in need of severe medical care." Optimus said quietly, looking gravely at screen while he listened to his, Ratchet and Megatron's Mecha selves talk.

Ratchet frowned, "A virus, one that consumes a mech's processor and frame when they're awake? Almost sounds like cybonic plague…" Not so soon after he said it, his other mentions cybonic plague and the whole team shuddered and glared at the screen. "It is like the cybonic plague, only we've traded one madmech who created for an alien species that managed to tweak it so that the cure to said plague doesn't seem to fully work." The medic theorized with a gripe, scowling darkly.

"Wow Ratchet…" Jack muttered underneath his breath at the flat half-joke that didn't really land right, not that either versions of the medic seemed to have any regrets about it. If anything, Ratchet, his Ratchet, looked a little vindictive over it.

Bulkhead snorted, "Never thought I'd hear Ratchet say that to mean ol' buckethead but there he did. Nice one Ratch."

"Don't call me that." Despite the slight reprimand, Ratchet smirked then frowned at Megatron's torn look before he scoffed. Muttering something quiet enough that Jack couldn't hear.

( "Hm, seems like the formula I created can cure more than just the cybonic plague. How fortunate of the Autobots." A warlord smirked, though he was less than pleased by the lack of a retort from his other to the medic. Not even a barbed quip, his other self has truly fallen from grace. Which wouldn't have been that bad considering it was a necessity- the eldest MECH pilot had been correct after all, 'the enemy of my enemy is an ally'. And yet, he shouldn't have let himself be insulted by that paltry half-joke.

A vain medic leaned closer to a seeker, "Did the Big M really manufacture the cybonic plague all by himself? I heard rumors, but I was stationed in sectors away from that whole mess, thank Primus." He asked in hushed tones.

The seeker withheld a snort, "No, although I will give credit in his creativity and the fact he led the project himself- our Lord is a more of a combat mech than a science one… He had Shockwave and a few other scientists assist him, however he managed to create and then hoard the cure's formula all to himself. So that is still quite impressive." He begrudgingly replied, reluctant to praise the warlord any more than he had to. Especially when it came to science. )

[ The three mechs approved a certain large stasis pod laying horizontally on a berth, the glass was completely white, covered in frost. All their vents were accompanied with small puffs of visible fog, their internal heating systems activating from how cold the room was.

Ratchet moved to the pod's control panel, activating it to show the vital signs and a generic picture of Alpha Trion on screen. "Alright, I'm deactivating the pod's cryo-stasis inducer and slowly bringing him online." He slid his digits across the screen, and the pod slowly tilted, the berth adjusting to let the leaders see and comfortably talk with the old mech.

The glass slowly cleared, revealing the sorry state of the ancient mech within. His frame was pale, the color seeping into either grey or a sickly dark green, rust and dark green decay ate at his plates and cables. Some parts of his frame looked caved in, while some looked bulbous, the metal rounding unnaturally as if something underneath was growing and was about to pop. The metallic plates that resembled a beard had been corroded and was far shorter than it should be compared to the picture on the pod's control panel. He was missing an arm, and as he slowly opened his optics, one of his optic was dark and covered in a thin disgustingly dark green film, signaling that he only had one working optic left.

"… O—rion…?" The old mech rasped, his voice glitching rightly. Single optic looking at Optimus through the glass of the stasis pod. ]

Everyone (both on base and on a certain warship) lurched backward on instinct, making various noises of disgust and horror. Jack withholding the urge to gag, wanting to look away but strangely, and morbidly, he couldn't.

"Sweet merciful Primus." Ratchet whispered, reeling at the state the old cybertronian was in. It was far worse than the cybonic plague! At least the infected energon only caused rust and internal decay, not… not whatever this was! "Frame contortion, plate-warping, extreme rust and decay, energon and protoform discoloration—"

The medic stopped as Bumblebee nudged him with a low whirring noise, realizing he'd been trying to analyze the visible symptoms out loud which was distressing the Autobots- Optimus especially. The Prime looked devastated at the sight of his mentor and friend's state on screen. "Alpha Trion… Oh, what happened to you?" He whispered with overwhelming grief and immediately the medic was by his side, a firm hand on the Autobot leader's shoulder.

Jack hasn't seen Optimus this openly emotional before, the times that Optimus seemed to be like that were rare but Jack just wished it was a happier time instead of… this.

"… The Quintessons did that?" Arcee whispered, shuddering to herself with wide, fearful optics. "That is so much worse than the Cybonic plague. Primus."

Bulkhead gritted his dentae, trying to smile reassuringly at Miko's worried look but failing. "Frag… Ok, yeah, Ratchet was right. If- scrap, if buckethead's cure managed to uh, stop that. Great, good, glad they didn't kill him when they had the chance." He tried to joke, but just like the joke he'd been trying to repeat, it fell flat.

Optimus actually flinched when Alpha Trion said Optimus' old name, Jack watched with concern as the Prime's face went through several emotions before becoming a stone wall. Indecipherable, stoic, his eyes were dimmed. "Optimus?" Ratchet whispered quietly and the Prime shook his head, taking in a deep vent, resolutely looking at the screen with a concerning calm look.

Jack couldn't help but think that something was wrong.

( A medic let out a terrified and disgusted shout, throwing himself into his conjunx's side to bury his faceplate in the mech's chassis. Not wanting to see the horrific sight that offended his vain sensibilities, "Fragging Primus! Keep that thing away from me!" The medic wailed, muffled by his lover's plating. "I actually prefer the Cybonic Plague than THAT!"

His big lover made a disgusted noise but comforted his smaller conjunx to the best of his abilities. "There, there Knock Out- it's in another universe. Your frame's fine, you wont end up like that old guy." He soothed, sharing the medic's relief at the fact they were merely watching this and that this wasn't happening at all in their universe. Biological warfare had been horrendous here, but at least it didn't last that long considering the risks it had in infecting their own ranks.

"That is horrendous." A seeker gagged, and for once, a femme arachnoid voiced her own agreement and distaste to the sickness being shown.

Even their warlord leader had a look revulsion on his faceplate, yet his optics were slightly calculating. "It's somewhat similar to my Cybonic Plague, or at least, it was in the beginning if my cure was able to fight off its effects. The Autobot doctor had mentioned that its capable of mutating as well… what a terrifying plague that not even I would have considered creating." By his side, a faceless mech nodded in agreement.

"To think that Alpha Trion has managed to survive till now… although, I do not see his survival as a thing of triumph. At this point, it'd be more merciful to finally put him to eternal rest rather than let him suffer this indignity." He continued, a rare moment of pity shown for an Autobot, for the old Head Archivist at that… Though his faceplate twinges and optics harden when he hears the name the sick mech says, dentae gritting hard at the name. )

[ Optimus twitched, but spoke softly to the ailing mech. "… It's Optimus, old friend. Do you remember me?" He looked on with sad, yet desperate hope that he did. He sighed in relief when the old mech nodded after a moment.

"Ah, right… Right, you're a Prime, now… As you… should be, yes. Yes… My apologies. My memory— isn't what it once was." Alpha Trion rasped, his single optic slowly glancing around. "I am… still sick? No, I was- I was infected. There is a plague going on. You must- You must be careful, Orion. The Quintessons, they're poisoning us. Infe-infecting us with, with horrible viruses."

Optimus' relief turned into slight grief, "I know. They did. It's alright now Alpha Trion, the plague is over. Majority of our people are safe now."

Alpha Trion let out a small, incomprehensible murmur, but he seemed happy to hear those words.

Megatron stood slightly to the side with Ratchet, "More of his memory is missing, he's forgotten the plague's over. And he's calling Optimus, Orion, again. " He murmured to the doctor who had a pinched expression on his faceplate.

"He was one of the first victims of the Quintesson plague, he carried the other infected into safety and insisted on everyone else be treated first." Ratchet replied quietly with a sigh, "It's a miracle he's still functioning as he is now… And with how far gone he is, and how old his frame is, I doubt we'll be able to cure him. The only thing we can do, is ensure he sleeps comfortably until the very end."

Optimus lets his grief linger before his optics dimmed and his expression turned calm. "My friend, I'm sorry to wake you from your peace but this is urgent. Important. You need to remember, to tell us. Why did you let Rung steal from the Archive's Vaults?"

Immediately, Alpha Trion's sparkrate spiked, the slow and steady beeps from his vitals grew fast as the mech jolted slightly in the pod. His sole servo pressed against the glass of his pod weakly, smearing green sludge that leaked from the seams of his digits. "Rung? Rung? Is he here? Is he back? Rung?" ]

"God, at least when Optimus had Cybonic Plague, he remembered us all. And could mostly see?" Jack couldn't help but mutter, wincing at how horrible Alpha Trion's memory seemed to be. Calling Optimus his old name again, going on about how there was a plague around- he didn't seem to register both Megatron or Ratchet were there with Optimus.

"He should've let himself get treated." Arcee murmured, but nodded with apparent respect at the old bot's actions. Saving other infected people first? Guy was a hero, a good person. Jack hated seeing good people like Alpha Trion end up like this. Didn't feel right.

And there it happened again, Optimus' eyes dimming and him just becoming totally calm out of nowhere. Jack also noticed the concerned looks that Mecha Megatron shared with Ratchet- never thought he'd see that happen. But it happened to Optimus there just like here, he looked over to the Prime whose face was still calm, but his optics were glowing a bit brighter again and he was frowning.

He and the others jolted when Alpha Trion suddenly became way more active- the way the slow and steady beeping suddenly skyrocketed, the way he moved his hand against the glass of the pod and smearing something against it. "That- is that- what is that?" Raf asked shakily, really not liking the sludge that was staining the glass.

"Infected energon?" Miko guessed haphazardly with a scrunched up nose of disgust, "It's coming out of his hands…"

"And from between the seams too, ough." Bulkhead added with a wince and a shake of his head.

Bumblebee whirred something, pointing to the screen with some distress but it sounded like a question. Ratchet shook his head, "My counterpart has a point, although I don't have all the information, it is unlikely that Alpha Trion would make any type of recovery. It is either to let him stay in medical stasis until the end or…" The medic trailed off and Jack, being the son of a nurse, who has spent his fair share of time in the wards of a hospital, immediately got it and he grimaced.

It was either keep him in a coma until he died, or pull the plug on him and put an end to his misery. Neither were great options, not for a hero like him and Jack wished there was a true cure for the old guy. A way for him to recover, but it didn't seem like it.

"Just what happened between him and Rung?" Miko grumbled, frustrated but intrigued by the connection to this random guy they just met in another dimension. That Rung had been cryptic; he had his own Observer and was clearly more experienced with it.

This world's Rung was apparently a psychiatrist and a thief.

It made Jack wonder if their world had a Rung too, and what he was doing right now… Problem was, none of the bots knew him. In fact, they seemed to have trouble consistently remembering him too.

( Tensions spiked slightly when the warlord let out a disgruntled growl at the ancient mech on screen, displeased by the use of an old name he'd rather not remember. He'd tolerated it in the last world because the mech using said name wasn't exactly the same to the archivist he remembers and knows, same with the mech. But now? He aimed a glare at the mech, only abating when curiosity overtook his annoyance.

A medic who cared a lot about his vanity cringed and squeezed himself tighter into his lover's hold, "Of course it leaks between the seams. Ghastly." The medic practically whined, though there was a genuine sliver of fear that had his larger love holding him protectively, as if to shield him from the plague countless of worlds away.

"The old mech's processors are faltering." His current femme colleague noted, "Getting straight answers from him will be difficult." She correctly predicted, something a seeker and a silent mech nodded in agreement to. )

[ "He's not here. He's missing, Alpha Trion." Optimus said, quickly recovering from his recoil of shock. "He visited you before Iacon fell, what did you speak about? Why did you let him steal from the Vaults? Who is Rung?" He questioned firmly, hoping to find a legible answer from the mech before something bad happened.

"Rung is… Rung is…" Alpha Trion leaned back against his stasis pod, servo splatting against his side, still leaking sluggishly. "Primus… He needed them. Needed to e-ensure that, the Quintessons… didn't get the relics. To secure… our future. I… forgot him, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I forgot you… Primus, Rung, I'm sorry- I should have done better. We should have- sorry, so sorry." Liquid gathered at his optics, tainted and faint from actual lubricant tears but enough gathered as a droplet of green mixed with pale silvery blue slid across his faceplate.

All three mechs' optics widened at the sight, Optimus was especially speechless, having never seen his mentor and old friend cry before. "Alpha Trion? Alpha Trion." He heard an erratic beeping come from the control panel, the medic was immediately at the helm, pressing frantically against the screen. "Ratchet?!"

"His sparkrate isn't returning to normal! The virus is accelerating throughout his frame- I need to put him into stasis again!"

Megatron's servos clenched uncertainly, "He hasn't even properly answered any of the questions."

"Tough! He can't at the moment and probably never will if you keep trying at this rate!" Ratchet snapped back, sliding his servos across the panel, "Activating cryo-stasis inducer, I'm putting him back under again."

Optimus looked distressed but he noticed Alpha Trion speaking as the pod hissed out more cold air. "Rung… needed to know the future… He wanted- to change it. He could change it. So I… helped him… Gave him what he needed… Gave him more… I— am sorry Optimus. I gave him… the key… didn't get… destroyed, needed it to save… us…" The glass fogged over, turning completely white as the mech was once again within deep cryo-enforced stasis.

A flash of Alpha Trion, healthier, gave a slight bow and nod to the Prime. "Optimus- no, My Prime. I would like to borrow the key to Vector Sigma. I have a few things I need to attend to there, I will return it when I am done."

Optimus smiled in the memory only for another memory to flash forward, Alpha Trion, still healthy yet injured, gave the Prime a guilty and solemn look. "I'm sorry Optimus, the key was within my office when the bombs fell. It must have been destroyed by now." The red and blue mech's finials flicked low, a look of stunned horror on his faceplate.

Optimus reeled back, bumping into Megatron who gave him a worried look. "Optimus?"

"The key to Vector Sigma wasn't destroyed?" Optimus suddenly whispered, optics practically pinpricks. ]

One question answered, several hundred more just cropped up. Jack's pretty sure that's just what happened, but another thing that's happened is that Optimus was suddenly standing up. His eyes just as wide in the screen, those antenna- uh, finials Jack thinks they're called? They've twitched low, the tips practically touching Optimus' shoulders. It makes him look… frightened, in a way.

But he wasn't afraid, no, not really. Spooked is what Jack would call it, and very, very concerned. Same thing for all the bots as well, Ratchet especially. "The key to Vector Sigma?!" The medic repeated, spluttering and nearly dropping the datapad in his hands.

Jack hears Raf call for another 'pause!', the screen freezing at the scene of a shaken Optimus Prime, being supported by a concerned Megatron with Ratchet coming over, looking just as concerned. It was probably the right call considering this might be another long explanation, Jack could already tell.

"What's the key to Vector Sigma?" Miko called out in question, glancing between the squirming, worried Autobots. "What's Vector Sigma anyway?"

"That's…" Arcee hesitated, a complicated look on her face before looking over to Optimus and Ratchet. Optimus took in a breath, or vent, visibly recomposing himself. Jack was almost relieved for some reason, instead of whatever was happening earlier- with Optimus suddenly becoming calm but with eyes just, dim, Optimus was gathering himself again.

"Vector Sigma is an ancient, mystical mainframe and power source on Cybertron. It contains a power and knowledge similar to the Matrix, it is said that should anything happen to the Matrix; Vector Sigma is the most likely solution to whatever has happened." Optimus explained almost reluctantly, quietly, a serious and thoughtful look on his face. "However, Vector Sigma is also hidden and locked away. The only way to find it and access it, is with the key of Vector Sigma. That of which there is only one in existence."

Ratchet nodded, looking just as solemn. "And Optimus is the only one to have it, as he is the Prime and wielder of the Matrix of Leadership. And only those he deems trustworthy enough, can even use it as it has a unique bio-lock that will only work for Optimus himself, and whoever he entrusts the key to."

"So when Optimus, other Optimus, handed over the key to Alpha Trion…" Jack started wearily, looking over to them with a complicated expression. "And the guy said, well he lied, but he said that the key was destroyed? What would've been like, the result?"

Both older mechs grimaced, "It would have been catastrophic news to say the least." Ratchet informed, pressing his fingers against his face. "Vector Sigma is connected to the core of Cybertron, to Primus' very spark or so it is said."

"It is how I earned the Matrix of Leadership, along with Alpha Trion's assistance." Optimus revealed, Jack, Miko and Raf leaning in from their seats on the couch as the Prime continued. "When Cybertron was dying, Alpha Trion instructed me to venture towards the core of Cybertron. He gave me the key to Vector Sigma, and with that, I was able to find Vector Sigma and use it to navigate my way to the core, where I was bestowed the Matrix of Leadership from the heart of Cybertron."

Bumblebee whirred something a bit excitedly, making Raf let out a faint 'woah' of awe. "From Primus himself?"

"Wicked." Miko breathed with a nod and an impressed grin.

Both of their awe was quickly dropped as Ratchet continued, "I cannot imagine the repercussions of what would happen if the key had actually been destroyed. And while it is fortunate that their key is intact, the fact that Alpha Trion had tricked Optimus into thinking it was destroyed is…"

"Pretty messed up?" Raf offered tentatively.

Arcee snorted, "I think it's an understatement but essentially, I guess. Might've caused a panic to those that knew. Question is, or well, one of them is that why? Why lie about the destruction of the key? Why give the key to Rung?"

"Didn't you hear, it was to save our people or something." Bulkhead pointed out but he didn't seem too sure, he sounded disgruntled actually. "The real questions are like, what did Alpha Trion mean in 'see the future', 'change the future' and what was Rung's plan to save us? From what? The Quintessons? Whatever plan he did, didn't seem to turn out alright considering he's uh, not around." All really valid questions from both Arcee and Bulkhead.

Rung was dead, he took artifacts from the bot's important vaults as well as this legendary key to a mystical, legendary place and he died. Somewhere, out there, without a solid explanation of what happened or what even his plan on 'saving everyone' was.

Optimus sighed, "While I cannot answer the other questions, I suspect that Alpha Trion's words of 'showing Rung the future' were quite literal. I had always suspected my mentor of being capable of glimpsing into the future of certain events. He always had so much knowledge and foresight on certain things and topics, it seemed preternatural." He explained and Jack stared at him as he revealed that maybe, his old friend and teacher could've seen the future. Was it just normal for bots to be able to see stuff they shouldn't?

Before the Observer, Jack would've taken the explanation with a grain of salt but considering they were peering into other universes using Cybertronian tech? He's more than willing to believe now. Actually… "Do you think the Observer came from him? Or that Alpha Trion used the Observers somehow?" He asked the question aloud because it would make sense.

They all looked over to him in surprise before falling into thought, "I mean, it'd make sense? Just like, look into another world where it's a bit more in the future. Or maybe the Observer have a future setting that we don't know about." Miko supported, looking more than excited at the prospect of seeing the future even though they were literally watching other worlds right now.

"It might? I wouldn't be surprised at this point." Bulkhead agreed, with Arcee and Bumblebee nodding with him.

Optimus however, didn't look very convinced. "Perhaps, however we cannot be too sure. I never recalled seeing Alpha Trion with this artifact whatsoever. My initial suspicion to him being able to peer into the future was through the use of another artifact called The Covenant of Primus. It is said the book was filled with prophecies and events written of the future, but encrypted and nearly illegible to the normal optics."

Ratchet nodded in agreement, siding with Optimus. "That old mech always did tote around a metal book with him. Rarely saw him without it."

"Huh, well, it still could mean these Observer came from Alpha Trion somehow? Just because he had the uh, Covenant of Primus? Doesn't mean he wouldn't also have the Observer." Raf said, it was a weak theory but it was one of the only ones they had at the moment besides from 'spontaneous dimensional travel' from the Observers themselves right into their base, which really was likely but it was good to have other options or theories because you never know.

Ratchet hummed, still not convinced but gave an indulgent nod to the youngest human. "It still wouldn't explain how the Observer got into our base without our notice, if the Observer had been from Alpha Trion, I imagine he would have sent it through the Vaults' emergency pods- where relics would be ejected from the Hall of Record Vaults and into space for safekeeping. Even if he somehow packed it into our inventory long before we left, we would've noticed much sooner than now." He briefly explained with Optimus giving his quiet agreement, and again, he had a point. "Remember, we found it in the middle of storage where it wasn't there before."

It looked like 'spontaneous dimensional travel' really was the only option as to how they got the Observer in the first place. It still left a lot of questions but it didn't seem like they would be getting answers to it any time soon.

Speaking of time…

Jack jolted as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, who was calling him? No wait, it wasn't a call, it was an alarm. "Hate to be the breaker of bad news, but guys, it's time to pack it up and head home." He mentioned aloud, reminding everyone of what time it was.

The bots checked the time -they had internal clocks or something- and nodded, "Time to get going I guess." Bulkhead seemed torn between relieved and disappointed, which Jack can't blame him. It's been one hell of a day.

"Aw, what? Has it been an hour already?" Miko groaned, obviously hating the thought of leaving. "Why don't we like- have a sleep over tonight, huh? We could call our parents- well, my host parents, Raf's parents and Jack's mom and ask to stay over at a friends house! Aka, here."

Raf was surprisingly the first to protest with a shake of his head, "Can't Miko, not tonight. I actually want to head home- tonight's one of those rare nights where all my family's together and… I want to spend time with them. Mom's making homemade tacos and salsa, I haven't had that in a while!" Raf exclaimed, smiling brightly.

It made Jack think back to the fact that Senscript didn't have any family in the Mecha world, that probably added into Raf wanting to eat with his family. He never took them for granted, but it was clear he wanted to cherish the moments he had with them.

And honestly, Jack can't blame him.

Jack wanted to head home and give his mom a hug.

Miko wilted with disappointment, "Darn…"

Jack huffed at her attitude but reached over to poke her, "Hey, tomorrow's a weekend and none of us have anything to do. We can continue watching tomorrow." This would hopefully give the bots plenty of time to just… process everything, god knows Jack was going to need it.

She continued pouting before perking as she thought of something, "Oh! Y'know what- yeah! Yeah! We'll continue watching tomorrow, all day! Which means, we gotta get snacks! Tons of it! Watching something is always better when you got something to munch on." She grinned, hopping to her feet.

"That sounds great actually, I could bring over leftovers from dinner- you guys will love my mom's cooking." Raf said, grinning widely while Jack chuckled.

He hadn't expected anything that weird or eventful today, but he should've known. Knowing the Autobots, hanging around them and his friends? Something bound to happen eventually, even if that something was looking into alternate universes.

At least the Autobots were just as flabbergasted about it as they were.

It didn't long for Raf to put the Observer into standby mode, the floating screens disappearing with the spherical object's faint lighting dimming to nonexistent- it couldn't actually turn off, according to Raf. Or if it could, Raf couldn't find how to turn it off with how jank and messed up the controls were at the moment. There was plenty of features to the Observers that they couldn't access from how internally damaged it was, and they didn't really know when the Observer would be completely fixed.

Ratchet stored the Observer in the corner of the main hanger, they were going to resume watching tomorrow, Optimus even willing to have everyone take the day off from patrols so they could do so. Jack… was a little concerned for the leader of the Autobots, he seemed tired but he did want to continue watching the Observers, or so he said anyway.

"Safe travels, Jack, Miko, Raf. And have a good night." Optimus said before they left, and as Jack climbed onto to Arcee, he faintly heard Optimus continue. "Ratchet, patch me in with Agent Fowler."

Ah right… Jack has to wonder what Agent Fowler was going to do with the new… cybertronian relic in Autobot hands. He probably wouldn't be happy at what was going on, definitely didn't help that they didn't exactly tell Agent Fowler the moment the Observer started showing them different worlds? They all got so caught up with watching, it just didn't occur to them they should probably be telling him about it.

Would Agent Fowler try to confiscate the Observer? Jack suddenly thought as he and Arcee drove out on the open road, underneath the night sky. Could he do that? He was an agent to the government and he'd imagine the government would be really interested in something like the Observer but… the Observer was technically the Autobot's property wasn't it? It was cybertronian of origins, even if it was currently tied to him, Miko and Raf.

Did that mean it belonged to them for now?

Just more questions he didn't think to ask until he was semi-alone with his thoughts, leaving Arcee to mostly drive as he was kind of distracted and a bit too much in his head. Which he really shouldn't do while driving but thankfully, he had an alien friend making sure he didn't crash from his inattentiveness.

Something she noticed.

"Dollar for your thoughts, Jack?" Arcee asked as they neared Jack's home in the Jasper's suburbs, snapping Jack out of his train of thought.

"Uh, I think it's suppose to be penny for your thoughts." Jack corrected with a slight smile.

Arcee snorted, "And here I thought your thoughts were worth more than that Jack, had to be if you were distracted the whole drive." She teased, slowing down as they reached his house. He could already see his mom's car in the driveway, the sight of it made a strange lump appear in his throat. "… Jack? You okay?"

Jack shook his head, "No- wait, I mean, yeah. Yeah, I'm good. I just… today's been a lot, hasn't it Arcee?" He questioned with a sigh, Arcee coming to a stop right at the driveway. He steadied them both with a leg, taking in a deep breath for a moment. "With the Observer, and the reveal of multiple worlds and just… It's been weird."

"Oh absolutely." Arcee agreed while Jack finally got off of her, taking off his helmet. "But not exactly a bad weird, even with uh, certain events happening. It's certainly made the day more interesting at least."

"Yeah." Jack chuckled with her, before looking at her- kind of wishing she was in her root mode so he could see her face. Even after all this time, it was a bit awkward to talk to a motorcycle. "What about you? You good Arcee?" There'd been multiple times during the viewing that he noticed her looking at him, especially during the Alien Mecha world, it happened usually when his counterpart spoke.

Unbeknownst to him, a part of her was still reeling at how adult Mecha Jack sounded so much like her old partner Tailgate.

Arcee was silent for a moment before her wheels moved her forward a bit, "I'm good Jack. Just… well, like you said, today's been a lot. Interesting for sure, but a lot. You have a nice night, Jack." Her holographic driver, Sadie, flickered to life. Intending to drive back to base, but she stopped. "You're going to tell June about the Observer?"

Right, his mom knew about the Autobots now and one of the conditions she had was that Jack had to tell her important things going on with the bots. Jack tried not to tell her about the really dangerous stuff though, like the cave-in, since that'd be too much and she'd probably freak out and forbid Jack from seeing the bots again. He hasn't even told her everything that happened yet. Maybe one day, when she couldn't exactly ground him or forbid him from seeing his friends.

This though…

"It couldn't hurt to tell her about it, could it? I forgot to ask Optimus if I could tell her though…" Jack hesitated, torn between wanting to tell her (because frankly, as weird as it was, it was still pretty cool) or not.

"Give me a moment, I can comm Optimus, see what he says." Arcee offers and Jack nods, waiting for a moment before Arcee repositioned her motorcycle alt to face Jack. "He says it's alright to tell her, he'll be telling Agent Fowler. With how those two stay in touch, she'd find out eventually, probably better you tell her now than later."

Jack made a face before nodding, "Alright, yeah. Good point." He reached over to pat Arcee's windshield. He had tried to pat Sadie the hologram before which ended up with him almost falling over. "Thanks Arcee, good night."

"Good night Jack."

Jack watched Arcee leave, heading inside while checking his phone as he turned around when he couldn't see her anymore. Already Miko was sending text after text about plans for tomorrow; she was going to bring as many snacks as she can. Raf sent a few texts as well, how he was home and an admittedly great picture of a feast on a table, those tacos did look good…

His stomach growled, surprising him before his mom's voice outright startled him. "Great timing Jack, I just finished dinner." His mom said from the doorway to the kitchen, holding a few plates in hand. She grinned, amused by his briefly offended look from being startled out of nowhere. "Come on, I wanna know what happened with the bots today."

Jack paused before a smile appeared on his face, "Let me help you with that mom."

Setting up the table was easy work, but it was his turn to surprise his mother when he ended up hugging her after the plates and food were set down. Unable to stop himself from reaching out for her. "Woah! Okay, we're hugging." June laughed, a bit confused and concerned but happily reciprocating. "What's the special occasion? You okay?" There was a bit more concern bleeding into her tone when she noticed him tighten his hug.

Jack thought about his other self, the pilot, the soldier, the young man who lost his mother at such a young age. He finally pulled back and gave her a lopsided smile, "I'm fine, really. But you won't believe what happened today, mom."

Tomorrow, he's going to continue watching his other self's life. See wonders or tragedies or whatever else the Observer had in store.

But tonight? He sits down for dinner with his mom, enjoying the little things.

Little did Jack know, this was only the prelude to something more.

[ ----- TP : UO ----- ]

WE GOT THE FIRST BATCH OF CHAPTERS OUUUT! next chapter isnt going to be a reaction chapter, but a much needed interlude! because remember, this happens at the end of the week for the kids so the next day is the weekend where they can react to so much more!

also we all need that interlude, we went through;

2 Chapters of Shattered Glass 3 Chapters of Show Actor Au 5 Chapters of Alien Mecha Au

with each chapter gradually growing in word count.

that is ten chapters of reactions almost nonstop, in the span of several hours for the bots, cons and kids. they need a break and to process. and so do i. thank you SO MUCH for the support and the reads. im so glad you guys are enjoying it and i hope youll continue to enjoy it!

disappointed that there's no con pov in the ending chapter? dont worry, we'll be getting to them in the next chapter. also sorry it took a while, i got sick and stuff happened but the show goes on. next chapter will hopefully take sooner but no promises.

anyway, see yall next time!

[NEXT]

[PREV]

[START]

[graceful-ashes]

Season 9 buddie begins with Eddie waking up after having a romantic dream about Buck. We later see him talking around it with Hen like:

"Do you think dreams mean anything?"

Hen gives him a look and responds with, "Well I doubt my dream about living in a pond with a giant frog means anything."

Eddie huffs in amusement. "Yeah, don't think my dream about putting out a fire by hosing it down with ice-cream is that deep either."

Tilting her head, Hen gives a slight shrug. "Could've meant you were hungry."

Eddie's face takes on an expression that's part thoughtful and part mirthful. "Huh. You might be right." He looks over at Hen, his expression slipping back to serious. "I was thinking more like reoccurring dreams."

"Ah." Hen nods, turning her full attention to Eddie. "Well those I think usually mean you've got some unresolved issues or like you're trying to emotionally process something. Karen's more into the dream stuff than I am, though. Maybe you should talk to her about it? She might even lend you one of her books on it."

Eddie nods. "I might just do that."

They fall quiet for a beat while Hen gives him an assessing look.

"I mean I'm always hear to listen if you want to talk about it. I can't give you deep insight into whether a moth represents death or anything, but a lot of the time dreams aren't that deep, if you ask me. Don't tell Karen I said that, I'll never hear the end of it "

Eddie chuckles at that.

"But what I'm saying is, sometimes, just getting a different perspective can help you figure things out. Dream or not." Hen holds Eddie's gaze, her eyes kind and expression open.

Biting his lip, Eddie debates what to say. "It's silly, really. I've had this dream a few times over the years or similar dreams at least, and I didn't think anything of it, you know? Dreams are usually just a weird mosaic of things you've seen or heard that day or maybe that week or whatever. But now, it's almost every night... and I don't know why."

Hen, being the great friend she is, doesn't push for details instead she asks. "Well has anything changed in your life recently, that you think might be connected?"

Eddie thinks about it a moment. He considers how strained his and Buck's relationship had grown with him moving to Texas and then with Bobby...He thinks about how they've grown closer since then. "I guess."

Hen lifts her hands, palms up. "Well then, that might be why."

"So it might not be so literal? It might just be me processing that things are changing?" Eddie's eyes flicker across Hen's face like it might hold all the answers.

"If I've learnt anything from my wife, it's that dreams are rarely THAT literal. You should generally take them with a grain of salt."

"Right." Eddie smiles. "Thanks Hen."

Hen smiles back. "Anytime, Eddie."

And so begins the frustrating arc of Eddie believing his dreams about kissing or marrying Buck means that he's just processing the fact that their friendship has been evolving and not looking into it any deeper than that, and dismissing his physical reactions to seeing Buck as being residual feelings left over from his dreams. At least until it becomes too obvious to ignore. 😏

[magicaldice]

WILL HE

in which you & Matt aren’t dating but aren’t supposed to be available to other people. your attachment to each other is borderline unhealthy and toxic, but somewhat addicting.

I've been in the same position I'm in currently about 500 times by now.

The position of disbelief, betrayal mixed with an uncomfortable amount of false hope. One can only take so much.

Matt and I aren’t together, at least not technically. A label on our entanglement was the least of my worries as of now.

I'ts about 7 p.m right now and i've been crying non stop for the past 2 hours. 2 hours of tears passed while Matt consistently blew up my phone with messages and calls.

He knows I know. He knows that I seen Maria post him on her snapchat story.

In the picture you can see that he was in her bed without a shirt on, laying peacefully between her legs as her hand was in his messy hair.

I wanted to throw up when I initially saw the post. Too many emotions clouding my mind making it impossible for me to decide what to do.

Matt and I were friends. With the occasional kisses and sex. We met 11 months ago and have been involved with each other ever since.

It started out as an innocent friendship. Until it became something far more serious and intense.

6 months into our friendship we had both mutually agreed while we were intoxicated to hookup. It didn't seem like a life altering choice at the time.

But it unfortunately was and now I've become someone I don't recognize. Someone who's willing to drop every ounce of self respect to keep a man in my life. Someone who's not afraid to betray herself for nothing but false promises.

After Matt and I had sex that one night while we were drunk, there was a big shift in our dynamic. He was more clingy, he became softer with me, but more possessive than anything.

And to tell you the truth I couldn't tell what his true intentions were.

We would stay up till sunrise talking about everything and anything you could think of. We would spend countless hours laughing with each other, holding each other.

He's in my camera roll more than my own parents. I became beyond attached to him. And he always made me feel like the feeling was mutual.

Even though there was no label to what we had, it felt like it. When the conversation of dating or hooking up with other people would ever be brought up, it would end in the same way.

Matt would hold onto me like I was his, stroking my hair ever so gently. "I don't want to share you with anyone" he would say. Anytime I would try to rebuttal he would quickly shut any argument I had down.

He didn't want me with anyone else. He wanted me selfishly all to himself. And anytime I mentioned that if I couldn't be with anyone else, that he couldn't either, he would agree.

But he never kept his word. I would always figure out he'd been with another girl. And it would hurt me more and more everytime.

I had got sick of the lies he would tell me. Sick of trying to see the good in him. Sick of putting him before myself.

Seeing Maria's post on snapchat today made something in me snap. Yeah it fucking hurt, and yeah I cried. But it made me want revenge, it made me want him to feel how I felt.

from matt: y/n answer me.

from matt: i'm sorry y/n plz answer. I can't lose you

from matt: please call me back. just talk to me

I read the messages and scoffed. He knew I was hurt, he knew that I would find out. The thing is this was a reoccurring event. If he was truly cared he wouldn't be getting with other girls in the first place.

I wanted to get revenge, so badly. But I didn't know how. I mean essentially I would just have to sleep with another person.

But that was the last thing I wanted to do. That was something I couldn't get myself to do no matter what.

Tears stream down my face, how could I just let this continue to happen to myself? How could I let him treat me like an option.

I look down at my phone to see him calling me. I debated answering, but I didn't. Instead I shut my phone off, feeling numb to the situation.

-

I had just waken up to a knock on my door. I swung my legs off my bed and walked to my apartment's front door, opening it just to be met with the man who made me cry myself to sleep.

"Leave" I said while rubbing my eyes, trying to fully wake myself. "No just let me talk to you" he said stepping towards me. "There's nothing to talk about" I said.

I was exhausted, I didn't want to deal with this right now. He stepped closer, closing the gap between our bodies before wrapping his arms around me. "I'm sorry" he said as he hugged onto me.

I didn't return the hug. Instead I just stood still, not able to move. Tears were bound to fall from my eyes. "Let me inside, yeah?" He said.

I let out a deep breath, one that was filled with heavy emotions. I let him inside and he followed me into my bedroom. I sat on my bed and stared down at the ground.

"I'm sorry y/n. I know I fucked up, I fucked up so bad. I never meant to hurt you" he said. I wanted to scream, cry and have him hold me all at the same time.

"You don't give a shit. You don't have anymore excuses, you just use me. I'm tired of this Mathew" I spoke. "You know I care, you take advantage of how deeply I care" I said, my voice cracking as hot tears fall from my eyes.

He grabbed onto my hand and squeezed it lightly. He listened carefully as I poured out my heart. Sadness was turning into anger quickly.

"How would you like it if I was getting fucked by random guys? Huh? How would you like it if I let-" I was starting to spiral before he interrupted.

"I know that your hurting, I know that. Don't run to other guys because of me. Don't do that" he said. "They don't care for you like I do. I don't want to lose you" he continued.

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" I snapped. "How could you even say something like that and then treat me like I'm one of your hoes" I said, my heart aching with every breath I took.

Matt grabbed onto my body, pulling me on top of him. He sat me in his lap and used his thumb to wipe away the tears I had. "Your not one of my hoes y/n" he said.

"You're the only girl I care about. The only one who makes me feel like me. The only one who matters" he said staring into my teary eyes.

"I'll get my shit together for you" he spoke. It was hard to stay mad at him when he talked like this. It was hard for me to stand firm on my words, boundaries and self respect when it came to him.

He used his thumb to brush my bottom lip as his eyes flickered from mine to my lips. "I can't lose you" he whispered. It always seemed like he was meaning what he said in the moment.

He leaned in to kiss me and when our lips met my body felt at ease. With our lips pressed together, our bodies moved naturally against one another.

"Your my girl, nobody else's" he said as his hands ran all over my body.

-

It'd been 3 days since I last saw Matt. He was coming over tonight after telling him that we need to talk.

I planned on telling him that if he kept sleeping with other girls I would leave him. I would drop everything between us and start over with someone else.

Although this needed to happen, I didn't want it to. I didn't want to let go of him even though there's a high possibility that I'm going to have to.

I wasn't ready to say goodbye to him and everything we had. It was a sad reality.

Love isn't logical, it never has been. Separating feelings and logic was something I found to be quite difficult. But even at my most deluded times I've known the difference between right and wrong.

And what Matt was doing, essentially using me for his own selfish benefit, was wrong. It's a hard pill to swallow when you realize that the people you care about the most, are the ones who are most willing to take you for granted.

It's hard coming to terms with such things like betrayal and heartbreak. And it wouldn't be necessarily if Matt gets his shit together.

But I've already been subconsciously preparing myself to lose the one thing I thought was real. To lose the one person, the one soul who I crave to be with forever.

-

"I need you to know that I care so deeply about you" I said. Matt was sitting on my bed next to me. He looked anxious which wasn't a normal thing for him.

"If your not going to change for me, let me know. Because I refuse to let myself spend more time on someone who couldn't give less of a fuck" I continued.

I was being more than serious. And it was the first time I seen him look somewhat scared. He could tell that this was either going to be the last time we saw each other or the beginning of something real.

"What do you need me to do my love" he said as he held onto my hand. "I need you to say something and mean it, I need you to tell me if what we have is worth losing" I said.

"I never want to lose you, ever" he spoke. "Do you understand that if you keep sleeping with other girls, or even entertain other girls, I will leave everything we have behind" I said assertively.

He nodded his head at my words, staying silent for a moment before grabbing onto me. "Let me hold you" he said pulling me into him.

We laid with each other, time being forgotten as we stared into each others eyes. "Being with you is something that I'll always cherish" he said.

"Nobody is able to reach my heart except you. Your the one that has the key to it, your the one who makes me feel like a real human" he said as he rubbed his hand up and down my back.

"I've never felt something as real as your love before" he continued.

He was on the verge of expressing more of his feelings before he got cut off by his phone ringing. He grabbed his phone like it was instinct, and my stomach dropped when I saw the caller ID.

It was Maria that was calling him, and by the way it's 2 am. Nobody calls at 2 am with any other intention but late night sex.

I pulled out of his arms, creating physcial distance between us. "I'm sorry I dont know why she's calling right now I just-" I interrupted his failed attempts at making an excuse.

"You can fucking answer her Mathew. Go ahead and answer her. You can actually go to her house right now, nobodys fucking stopping you" I snapped.

"It's not like that y/n. i'll block her right now if you want me to" he said. "Let me see your phone" I demanded. "What?" he said more confused than ever.

"Let me see your phone" I repeated. He gave me a look of defeat. He knew that what I was about to see on his phone would destroy me.

"Y/n" he said. "Give it to me" I demanded once again. He looked up at the ceiling as if he was saying a prayer in his head before handing me his phone.

I was sick at what I was seeing to say the least. He practically only had girls on his phone. He was texting them all, saving nudes in his phone, saying he cared about them like he did with me.

Even though what he was texting to them was far more surface level compared to what we would text and talk about, it didn't change the fact that he was still entertaining them.

I scrolled through tons of messages, sexts, and meaningless connections he had with the girls. I came across our messages, seeing my contact in his phone as "my love" made every emotion I felt sting.

Tears were running down my cheek as Matt watched me scroll and scroll through his phone. I threw the phone at him when I reached Maria and his messages.

He had texted her an hour before coming to my house, saying he missed her and couldn't wait to feel her again.

I was so sick, so tired and hurt. "I fucking hate you" I said with my voice trembling. He quickly grabbed onto me with a firm grip, wrapping his arms around me.

"I know my love, I hate me too" he whispered. "Let go of me" I said, body weak, mind clouded with pain. "No" he responded. "You need to listen, okay?" he said.

I didn't want to listen to whatever bullshit excuses he was going to try and feed me. I didn't want to. But I did.

"Those girls don't mean anything to me. None of them, I promise you. I'll delete them all right now, I swear" he said. "I'll drop everything if it means that I get to keep you" he continued.

I shook my head, not responding with words. "You mean so much to me y/n. All of those text and all of those girls were before tonight. Tonight is different, okay?" he said.

"Tonight we're in this for real, it's just you and me like how it's supposed to be. Your more than a hookup, or a late night text. Just please, let me show you how much you mean to me" he pleaded.

He grabbed onto my jaw, forcing me to look at him. I would like to think I had more control over my emotions. I would like to believe that I wouldn't give in so easily.

But it was never like that with Matt. I gave into him, effortlessly, like it was habitual. Which it was.

"I hate seeing you cry" he says, and even if he was lying I let myself believe it for the time being. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me like he's done many times now.

"Just need to hold you" he said. Being held by him was something I always loved, deeply.

There were times I had got depressed, not wanting to leave my room for weeks. I would isolate from everyone, and even when I tried to push Matt away during those times he wouldn't budge. He would show up at my house just to hold me while I would cry.

He would hold me for hours. The only difference between him holding me now vs back then, is that the reason I'm crying is because of him.

He was like the human form of addiction. I was addicted to him and his bullshit. And with him being my choice of drug, I needed to get sober.

"Can't lose you" he said before leaning in to kiss my lips. Being kissed by him was one of my favorite feelings. It was indescribable, the feeling of his lips on mine.

"I want you to feel better" he said before kissing me again. Matt knew that him kissing me during times like this eased the intensity of overwhelming emotions.

And every time I kissed him back, his body would become more relaxed. It's almost as if me kissing him eased the intensity of his overwhelming emotions as well.

It was a love and hate thing, with uncertainty and deep attachment involved.

He stroked my hair; it was soothing more than anything. "So we're for real now then, right?" I said. He nodded his head and gave a reassuring smile.

"I swear" he spoke, kissing my forehead softly.

-

There hasn't been a single day where Matt and I have been separated for more than a few hours. He was attached to my hip, only leaving my apartment when he had errands to run with his brothers.

There was a new energy between us. One that I didn't fully trust yet, one that said things between us were more serious.

As time passed, I slipped, I let myself believe that this was real. That he meant what he said when he said he didn't want to lose me.

He had spent every day with me, slept with me, showered with me. FOR DAYS.

Only to find out the times he left my apartment “to run errands with his brothers", was actually to go to another girl's house.

I did what any girl would do in my position. When he was in the bathroom showering, he mistakenly left his phone in my room.

I went through all of his social media first, not a single recent message from any girl. I was relieved, until I went to his regular messages.

He had been texting Maria, telling her not to post him on her story. She had questioned why, and his response was short and disgusting.

"Can't post the pictures or videos anyways, not when we were naked in them :)"

I felt anger, sadness, so much of it that it consumed every breath I took.

Matt walked into my bedroom, shocked when he seen his phone in my hand.

"Y/n" he said, tears were already pouring out of my eyes. As much as I was deeply hurt and sad, anger radiated off me more than anything.

"Get the fuck out!" I yelled, tossing his phone at him. He walked towards me slowly, his face plastered with an unreadable expression.

"I'm sorry" he said as he sat next to me on the bed. "No get out Matt. I'm serious" I said, voice cracking mid sentence.

I couldn't take this, this hurt more than any actual physical pain I felt. He tried to grab onto my hand and I stood up from my bed quickly. "Get the fuck out!" I shouted.

His face faltered, like he knew this was the end. The end of us, the end of something that should have never began.

He stood up from my bed and tried to step closer to me, but I backed away instantly. "You don't get to pretend like you give a fuck Mathew. You have no more chances" I said, wiping the tears from my face.

"Get your shit and get out" I said, pain and anger seething in my words. He grabbed his phone off my bed. I walked out into my living room, not wanting to see his face.

He followed behind me, nothing but harsh silence in the air. I watched as he put his shoes on.

It was hitting me hard in this moment. Knowing I wasn't going to see him again wasn't something I was ready for. I pushed down every feeling I had, I was done with him for real this time.

Matt stepped closer to me as I sat on my living room couch. "Listen to me" he said. "I know that your hurt, I know that you wanted this to work out. And believe it or not I did too" he spoke.

"I wish I could of been better for you. I really do. But I want you to know that every day, and every night I'll think of you. I'll pray you'll be safe. That you find someone who treats you good" he continued.

His words were making my body vibrate with heavy emotions, emotions too big to carry in a singular body. This was really happening, right here, right now.

"For what it's worth, I really am sorry. Your love was something I abused. And I'll never forgive myself for it" he said, and that was first time he seemed to look like he actually believed the words that were coming out of his own mouth.

"Be safe y/n. I'll carry a piece of you with me everywhere I go" he said before giving me a look, a look that said goodbye without having to say the actual words.

He walked out of my apartment, and as he shut the door behind him I broke down. Every single part of me that I tried to hold together, fell apart within seconds.

I walked to my bedroom, grabbing my phone. A message from Matt appeared.

from matt: I love you.

I violently sobbed as I stared at the message. Anger flashed over me once again. Love wasn't this, love wasn't what we had. This was far from love.

I wiped the tears from my eyes once again, blocking his contact. I continued to block him on every social media that we followed each other on.

I laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling. He would become a distant memory, someone who would be forgotten overtime. At least I hoped.

"I wish I was better for you", his words repeated in my head.

He wished he was better for me.

But his wish would never come true.

[asmodeussunderstudy]

and that's a wrap! slay the princess was a very good visual novel and i am going to talk about it now. i feel like i've seen some amount of content for it on tumblr but i want to invite more. and i also want to infodump and collect my thoughts. spoilers below >:}

i've been trying to do my best to not participate in analysis of video games before i get my own clear reading on them. i know there's a lot of literary analysis of STP (which is deserved), but i have not read it because i want to be better about having my own ideas about the media i consume.

so that's just a disclaimer that i might be retreading stuff that other people have covered better, and that i might be missing things.

but anyway tl;dr favorite princesses are probably stranger (particularly with her endings), razor (who was my first), apotheosis, den. favorite voice is probably ya boi the contrarian. i never want to see the grey again because i did not like creating her. tell me about your favorites.

REVIEW

good visual novel

good art, good music, good writing, perfect execution

comfortable 10/10 on pristine cut (i have not played the other cuts)

WHAT I LIKED

metanarrative is subtle but doesn't beat you over the head with it existing. some routes more clearly show the metanarrative- particularly involving how the player is manipulating the timeloop- than others. HEA is a favorite for obvious reasons; it is an extremely strong aspect of the game's overarching theses on change and death giving meaning to life. However, i also think the metanarrative is well explored with the cage (free will in video games, can't help but think of Deltarune) especially as the cage relates to other chapters. if i wasnt an illiterate undertale fan i think it'd be an icebox thesis or whatever hitchcock calls it- a pleasant desert after the main course of the rest of the game's themes.

this is a narrative with a new twist on a familiar idea. the whole 'life has meaning because of death' bit is important to slay the princess, but it is one that has been done hundreds of thousands of times throughout history. once i key into the fact that it'll be what a story's about, the rest of the plot beats tend to be simple enough to predict. i've seen it a dozen times before. it's certainly compelling to comment on the idea that death is not as scary as we humans make it out to be, but not when that's been retold to me so many times while i still know that ultimately all my hopes and dreams could be abruptly destroyed in an instant. STP's variety of endings give the player the chance to choose whether or not to slay the shifting mound and rid the world of death, change, or both. this is a lovely way to allow the player to really and deeply reflect on their choices, and it puts the medium of visual novel to good use. I don't feel like that particular thesis is being shoved down my throat, but that it is being organically shown to me via the game's however many princesses as arguments.

execution of the multiverse is particularly good. it is straightforward and, in my experience, not confusing in the slightest. i've seen people disagree, but, if I am to be a bit harsh, I believe those folks must have missed something. the narrator goes on and on about hopping timelines and all of that, but the narrator is notably unreliable. to me, i read slay the princess as the tale of two captured gods duking it out in their own space bubble, which changes and transforms to suit their perceptions. various routes and the ending clearly indicate a world outside (Wild, Apotheosis notably), the true world of the narrator, which has been freed from the Shifting Mound and the Long Quiet (who are both trapped within the Long Quiet). It seems the timeloop merely resets this bubble, as it is clear from both the princess' dialogue (I believe the Adversary can remark how she's never seen a world outside; the Prisoner's sentence is clearly a farce; the Damsel's deconstruction seemed to be in part because she had no frame of reference from an existing world...) and the fact that slaying the princess normally leaves you floating in a void that there is no world. the world is merely a hypothetical posed by the narrator, and it changes based on the Long Quiet's perception because the Long Quiet is this divine prison. it's a fascinating narrative to uncover and very easy to follow despite my ramblings suggesting otherwise. you don't need to keep track of choices across time and dozens of different characters. LQ barely even changes between loops beyond newly learned knowledge. you just need to know whether and how you slay the princess, and it plays out.

this is already getting long, so i'm going to try to put to ink why my favorite princesses are my favorite really quick. i wish i had more direct thematic analysis, but my thoughts are kind of banging around at the moment.

Apotheosis: i am a simple man of simple pleasures. i never played before pristine cut, so i'm only familiar with the apotheosis' full content. i loved her statements on the nature of perspective- if the princess is unstoppable, she will be unstoppable; if you are unstoppable, not even god can stop you. it puts the rest of the game into perspective with both your agency and that of the princess. however, even still, both the apotheosis and LQ are bound by their prison no matter how strong they appear to be. they remain stuck in their own stagnant eternity together and cannot escape it without choosing to actually take the game's proper ending. there is no easy way out of making choices for this route (or, frankly, any route where the bounds of the cage are shown).

Den: gives good imagery and metaphor for the thing about death, and an effective counterargument to why LQ and SM should be imprisoned. if a world was rid of death, it would not be rid of violence just because there is no death, and that suffering could be permitted to stretch on forever. but if you show the princess kindness, there is still nuance. pain and suffering do not have to stretch on forever if they're met with kindness and compassion. it's just nice. and there's also something poetic to me about turning the princess into a monster with your perception of her only for her to still be her own creature with agency if you save her.

Razor: similar to den. i just. i like her. i'd love to do a piece comparing the fury and the razor thematically sometime. i like what she adds to the death argument for the same reasons I like the den, and I think she shows well the nature of SM/LQ's relationship.

Stranger: i like the stranger in the context of her unique ending, and i love that she gets a set of endings for herself when she doesn't speak in her own route. i got that ending later and am still putting my thoughts together on it, though. something about broken things coming back together, being repurposed and given hope.

oorrrr i might have read that game completely wrong. enjoy my crazed ramblings anyway.

[harlsqueenzel]

Was Harley Quinn's current design inspired by Jinx's design in Arcane or did DC Comics simply copy it?

I've had this doubt for a while now and it's not the first time that DC has made reference to Jinx, especially because in one of the issues Harley appears with Jinx's hairstyle +

+ and in Rebirth in issue 53 Harley appears with one of the jinx weapons.

Is DC trying to tell us something? Or did they simply realize that there are fans who dream of an impossible crossover between the two characters and made a reference? Bc I just don't know what to think anymore.

Artist: IMPlustration via deviantart

[foxstens]

best thing about getting into dark souls is all the Content it unlocks

[my-current-obsession]

I gotta say, it took me a bit to really get into Rune Factory 3 (in fact when I first got the game and tried it out I quit after like two hours and didn't touch it for a few months just because the gameplay was a bit janky and it was missing some quality-of-life stuff I was used to having in 4 and 5 and I got really frustrated), but on my second foray into the game it really sucked me in. I might even like the story and especially the romance aspect better than the other games.

I really appreciate that the romance is a forced part of the narrative; you literally can't access the final dungeon and beat the game until you pick a girl to marry. And BECAUSE of that, this game went hard on actually developing the girls and giving you ample time to spend with them. The request system basically functions as a "route" for each girl, and while I've only completed (9/9 one-time quests done) a few of them (Raven, Daria, Marian) I've really enjoyed everything thus far and felt the relationships develop from strangers to friends to love.

And unlike 4 and 5 where I have clear favorites in terms of who to marry, I honestly don't know who I'm going to pick yet. The only girls I'm NOT particularly interested in are Carmen, Colette, and Kuruna. All the other girls are great and I'd be happy to marry any of them, though I AM leaning towards Raven, Marian, or Sakuya (who I WOULD have completed already if not for some of her events being locked behind plot progression...).

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[cuntyji]

the first video nanami ever posted was filmed on a shaky phone propped up against a bag of flour.

he was making bread—simple, easy, the kind of thing he found comfort in after long days at work. his hands moved methodically, kneading the dough with a quiet precision, and though he spoke very little, the video was oddly calming.

he hadn't expected much from it. maybe a few views, maybe a couple of people who’d appreciate the lack of unnecessary chatter. but the comments were overwhelmingly positive, people asking about his technique, his recipe, his voice—deep, smooth, effortlessly steady. so he made another video. then another.

it was the late-night upload of him singing "baby one more time" by the marías that changed everything.

filmed on an old macbook with a grainy webcam, the lighting barely enough to make out his face, the video had been an impulse decision—one he almost deleted. it was just him, sitting on his couch, his voice low and hushed, the way he usually sang to lull yuuji to sleep. but the internet clung to it like ivy, twisting and reaching until the video had over a million views by the end of the week.

"who is he." "why is this the most intimate thing i've ever heard in my life." "he looks exhausted and sounds like a dream, i'm in love."

he thought it would pass. but it didn't.

his subscribers doubled overnight. the demand for more was loud, insistent. nanami, being nanami, didn’t rush to meet it. instead, he structured it into his routine: one video a week, a mix of baking and singing—because baking was reliable, and singing had never been something he shared outside of yuuji’s bedtime.

his channel evolved. the baking videos became polished, edited with subtle precision. he switched to voiceovers, explaining each step in that same low, deliberate tone that made people feel like he was speaking just to them. and when he sang, it was always songs that carried a quiet sort of nostalgia.

"he only sings songs he sings to his kid to sleep i’m crying." "his lullabies are better than half the music industry." "i don’t know his name, his age, or his face properly, but i know his banana bread recipe by heart."

nanami never explicitly talked about being a single dad, but it was impossible to miss. yuuji’s voice sometimes made cameos in the background, muffled questions about homework, laughter when nanami burnt the edges of a cake. he didn’t hide it, didn’t play it up. it was just a part of his life, and his audience adored him for it.

his faq video—one of the few times he ever directly addressed personal questions—answered almost nothing.

"are you married?" "no." "how old are you?" "old enough." "what's your name?" "nanami."

the mystery only made people more obsessed.

"i know nothing about him but i’d die for him." "his hands. his voice. his existence." "the fact that he bakes and sings for his kid and still won’t tell us his age is crazy."

he now posted twice a week. one video was always baking, the other was whatever he wanted—sometimes music, sometimes a quiet q&a, sometimes just a video of him making tea while rain hit the windows.

people knew everything and nothing about him at the same time. they knew the exact ratio of brown sugar he preferred in cookies but not what city he lived in. they knew he tucked yuuji in every night with a song but had never seen his full face in a single frame. they knew the precise cadence of his voice when he said “and that’s how you make the perfect loaf” but had never heard him say “i love you”—and yet, somehow, they felt like they had.

the internet had fallen in love with him. and nanami, quietly, without even trying, had changed his life with nothing but flour-dusted hands and the sound of his own voice.

[thecherrygod]

Oh right I just remembered the dream I had last night

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being the non-mc significant other of lead guitarist! Sylus.

"The usual?" You have the owner a smile and a nod. "You're late, it's already the four and last set." The pub owner spoke, preparing your drink. "That's because Sylus doesn't know I'm here. It's a surprise." You wink at her.

Imagine engaging on a conversation with the owner, the one you are actually close with given the fact that Sylus and the boys were the one that introduced you to her. She was a lovely lady with a bit of mystery around her. Keeping yourself occupied as you wait for the band to come into the stage.

Imagine preoccupied with your catching up with the owner, you did not notice that they were already on the stage. It wasn't until you heard a familiar strumming of electric guitar that you knew very well who belongs to that made you pause mid sentence and look at the direction of the stage.

Imagine being excited, its been a while since you have seen the boys, let alone your lover perform, having your own lives to begin with, you were quite busy nowadays, so now is the perfect time for a surprise. You even picked up a very unique guitar pick on the way here, designed just for him. He have been complaining about his old ones, ones you are pretty sure he could easily replace, nonetheless it was as if he was giving you some sort of hint.

Imagine the way you look back at the owner, only to see some sort of complicated look on her face. Soon enough you knew why. "Honey, why you calling me so late?" You knew that voice. "It's kinda hard to talk right now." You knew that fucking voice. "Honey, why you crying, is everything okay?" It felt like the world stop, but it didn't. In fact, it continues. Painfully. "I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud"

Imagine, Sylus was never the best singer. There was a reason why he was the lead guitarist and not the vocalist. But the thing is, when he tries, when he tries hard enough. He really singings well. You have heared him, even laugh at him. But of boy did you love him singing. When he sings it was always full of emotion. Like unwritten stories yet to say and unfold. Like hidden feelings waiting to be heard. He only singing when it's important. He only sings for you. Or so you though.

"It's funny that you're calling me tonight." You watch silently, at the side the way he looks in the crowd. Then his eyes soften, "And, yes, I've dreamt of you too." You knew you shouldn't have followed his gaze, you don't want to get hurt nor confirm anything, but you still did. And boy, it fucking hurts. "And does he know you're talking to me? Will it start a fight?" There he was looking at her, MC. "No, I don't think she has a clue."

Imagine, you always wonder why they broke up. They were so perfect for each other. But then again, that was all in the past? Right? You knew Sylus loves you. You knew he does, but you also knew that she was there first. Before you there was her. How could you even compare yourself to her? She was well loved my everyone, heck, even you could tell how much of a lovable person she was. That's why you always wonder, why you? Still, Sylus always made you feel like you were enough. But you aren't really sure anymore.

"Well, my girl's in the next room, sometimes I wish she was you." She laughs, exchanging words with her friend as she sat there in front, eyes never looking away at Sylus. "I guess we never really moved on." Sylus was looking at her softly, he was looking at her with something in his eyes.

Imagine you found yourself back to all those years ago. Amongst the crowd as you watch the two stare at each other. You felt like a bystander as you did all those years ago. "It's really good to hear your voice saying my name, It sounds so sweet" When Sylus sings, it holds a meaning. It means this moment, this very moment is important for him. "Coming from the lips of an angel. Hearing those words, it makes me weak."

"I need to go." You do not know why you felt awfully calm, heart beating wildly at your chest makes you wonder why. "I'm s-" You just raise a hand and smile at her. Funny it felt numb when your heart literally have broken into tiny little pieces. "I'll come back to my tab later." "And I never wanna say goodbye."

Imagine the way you slowly make it out of the pub. Your heart weighting heavily on your chest. Taking every bit of you strength to prevent yourself from crying. Dragging your feet as you walk and took a deep breath to compose yourself. "But, girl, you make it hard to be faithful." You did not look back, you don't want to. And finally, you grab a hold of the door and push it. "With the lips of an angel." And so you were out the door.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: Sana all bakasyon na, sabaysabay tayong mag dusa.

[inkskinned]

people have to make their own choices and make their own mistakes and you know that but you're on your third gin cocktail.

she's almost-angry while she talks. "he took the train with me. all the way home. it's an hour in the wrong direction." she's got a bright yellow raincoat and round glasses. she looks cute and thoughtful and like she reads books a lot. she's his type and you know that.

the bartender rolls her eyes and points to you. "he drove this one to her grandma's house. six hours both ways."

you were younger then, hadn't ever kissed a girl yet. were still saying "bicurious" because of your irish catholic family. it was so long ago skinny jeans were still socially acceptable.

and you'd met him, and he'd been perfect. his narrow face and dark hair and his wry self-deprecation. and - okay, yes, the fact he was a singer/songwriter was also hot. you liked the feeling of sundays with him, the two of you noodling through his new songs together while you slowly learned to play bass guitar. you liked writing his name on your converse. you liked his ironic "mom" tattoo and his fancy coffee obsession and his scrappy handwriting.

you didn't know, then, what kind of man he was. maybe he didn't either; he was young too. you say it into your earl-grey-gin-something. "he has... a playbook, i guess. the things he does... he does it with everyone."

she looks at you with wide, beautiful eyes. jesus christ, she's young. "we stood outside in the rain, just talking," she says. "i know that can't be fake. i have a ton of, like. examples here. he's a good guy. you should have seen him. i'm not, like, a complete idiot."

did you play defense attorney with him like this? did you bristle when others warned you about how quickly he leaves women?

you gnaw the thin black straw and stare at the other side of the building, where his band is setting up to play. you have no true rage against him, but it's not fun to watch him ruin other women. "did he get you a little stuffed animal yet?" yours had been a panda.

she stares at you and then nods, just once, stiffly.

you hold out your hand and start listing things, weighing them on your fingers. "did he tell you that he'd never seen someone like you, that you move like a dancer or something?" at her nod, you continue. "buys you ice cream and then drives up to the river to watch the stars? shows up at your place just because he missed your voice? takes you to the pet store to look at the fish?"

the bartender points at you. "don't forget he does that little dog game he does."

you close your eyes. you remember him in his stupid leather jacket, bouncing on his toes. he'd gotten the petstore clerk to allow him to handle a ferret. you had vibrated with joy, wrestling the noodle bodies from hand to hand. and then he'd said we're going to live together. we're going to get a big dog and a big lawn and -

"you get into a fake fight about what you'll name the dog," you monotone.

"chili," she says. she sets her jaw a little higher, and you catch a flash of muscle clenching. "we settled on chili. it's gonna be an irish setter."

the bartender snorts while she maneuvers deftly through making a batch of espresso martinis. "sounds about right. now i've got two rotties, but when that shit happened to me? we chose Portland. and we were gonna get a samoyed." she snorts again. "as if he could afford that grooming bill."

you had actually started that conversation in the pet store. you wanted a big, slobbery dog. a mutt, but a big mutt. something mastiff-like. something that you could walk alone at night with. your family has a tradition of "letting the dog name itself," where you'd write all the potential names on a piece of paper and then throw them. whatever the dog went to, it'd be the dog's name.

but he had said name it something girly since it's so big. he suggested Lavender or Pansy. at the time you'd thought it was funny and cut and sort of sweet. he wanted to pick up a dog from the ASPCA that weekend, he said. i'm gonna go get us Lavender. you hadn't learned yet that he would promise you a river but never even deliver a raindrop.

"it's like this every time, babe," the bartender says, not unkindly. "i'm sorry. i've seen too many like this, and you seem like a sweet kid."

the other woman bristles. "i'm not a kid. thanks for your advice. but." she stands up, slaps a ten down, stalks away.

the bartender looks at you and holds her hands up and shrugs. you shake your head and look down into the drink, stirring it idly.

"do you think he's written her the four lines yet?" the bartender asks, pushing a drink to someone.

you almost flinch, but don't. you'd been in the back shed, practicing together. he said he had a present for you - the beginnings of a new song. really just a couplet more than anything, barely more than 30 seconds. it should have made you feel glorious, feral, glowing.

but you had stood there, realizing you had books of songs about him, none of which he ever agreed to play. the song he'd written you had floated through the room and you felt strange and disconnected and insane all at once - it was such a vapid, stupid stanza he'd made. and then he said that terrible phrase - i love you babe.

and you had been suddenly both very out of your body and also very present, thinking: oh my god this guy is a buffoon and i'm wasting my time. the spiralbound notebook with pages of poems and lyrics and stories you'd written for him is now stashed in some rubbermaid. you'd wanted to burn it at first, but the effort had exhausted you.

the four lines of song are usually pretty banal - something about her eyes, something about her smile, something about how she's special. but they work. they always work, because people want to believe in the magical commodity of love - that it cannot be manufactured.

later in the night you watch that man get on stage and sing punk rock to a thinning crowd. he takes the time out of the setlist to try out a "new song" that goes out to his girl in the crowd, all of 30 seconds of music. he says he likes her eyes and her smile and she's special.

you think about stopping her physically. you think about showing her the group chat of exes in your phone. you think of how young she is - maybe 22? - and how you, at 22, would have told your current self fuck right off. you had believed it too, after all. people need to make their own choices. besides. maybe you're wrong. maybe this time it actually is that precious, starry, once-in-a-lifetime love.

you see her kiss him afterwards, her cheeks pink. it looks like a puppy being swallowed by a wolf. you have to check the floor to make sure no blood was spilled.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello! How does a beast cookies x reader sound? Also the reader has a calming effect on cookies and is basically the groups therapy cookie. Like what if-

Shadow milk after episode 8: DO YOU KNOW WHY IM LIKE THIS?!?

Reader:Wanna talk about it?

SMC: haha..hahahHAHAHA-

*ten minutes later*

SMC leaning on our shoulder: And that was after Mystic started going off the deep end-

Reader calmly listening: mmhm

Interesting 👀👍

I'd like to imagine they're a Legendary who's been around for as long as the Beasts have, travelling the world to give therapy and healing to those who need it. So they're def more powerful than the average cookie

......

As a Legendary Cookie, it was your job to help give all denizens of Earthbread healing--mentally and emotionally, that is.

Your calming abilities enable virtually any cookie to feel relaxed in your company. Even those who are totally closed-off and were baked with the hardiest dough will eventually confide in you about whatever's on their minds.

And you give them advice, always knowing what to say, or simply listen and let them express their emotions.

You've been around for as long as the Five Beasts have, so you've seen a lot in your travels...including the many days and nights they spent terrorizing the world after they twisted their virtues into vices, trying to ease cookies' fears.

The Witches deemed them monsters worthy of being locked up in the Silver Tree...yet you realized they have never once considered why they fell from grace.

Having spent so much time helping the normal everyday folk, you felt some guilt in not checking in on the Beasts to make sure they were okay.

They were adored and revered figures..but even they might've needed somebody to talk to every once in a while.

Maybe they wouldn't have fallen down that dark path if you paid more attention to the signs....

But after they break out of the Silver Tree and face the Ancient Heroes who've "stolen" their soul jam, they hide away until they can figure out how to restore their powers and take their revenge.

That's where you come in, having visited Gingerbrave's kingdom and hearing about the Ancients' encounters with them.

You decided to go on a quest to Beast Yeast, hoping to find them and simply talk, which obviously wouldn't be easy had it not been for your powers.

They have some resistance to it, but one by one...their walls come down and you start to understand them better.

Shadow Milk

Of course, the last one to fall from grace had to be the first one you come across.

It's not long after his retreat from his Spire, still not back at his full strength, wanting to get away from Candy Apple and Black Sapphire Cookie for a while.

They finally saw him be defeated and..humiliated by Pure Vanilla Cookie, yet they're willing to stay and follow his every word?

Either way, he wanted to be alone--but unfortunately for him, that doesn't last long as you seize your opportunity to talk to him.

"Shadow Milk Cookie. The Fount of Knowledge-"

"Pah! Dunno who that other guy is. Only Shadow Milk Cookie is....here..?" He spins around, his eyes comically wide as he instantly recognizes your face. "You....you're-"

"Not dead? I've been around for as long as you, my friend." You chuckle. "I don't crumble easily."

"...it's amazing you haven't. Thought you would'a cracked under the weight of everyone's problems by now. But you're still trying to play the hero, huh?" He sneers. "Just like.....him. Riddle me this, [y/n] cookie...do you feel any guilt?"

"...I do."

"HAH! Well you...wait, you do?" He blinks. "Do you even know what I'm talking about?"

"Yes."

"..you're terrible at following this script. You're supposed to be confused and scared-"

"We're not on a stage, Shadow Milk Cookie. I'm not fooled as easily." You cut him off, firmly yet gently. "This is reality. And the reality is...you've been hurt so profoundly. Watching so many cookies embrace deceit instead of your gospels of truth must have been...difficult. You felt betrayed by them."

"........"

"Ever since..that day..I've felt guilty for not reaching out to you or the others sooner. I probably wasn't clear about my doors being open for you, too. I've been waiting for a chance to talk to you again. To help you feel heard, even though this was long, long overdue."

"Wow...and I thought Nilly had the biggest savior complex." He scoffs, trying to resist your magic's advances on his psyche. "Nice try, but you're not gonna get inside MY head, too. Nope. Nuh-uh. I'm not one of your fragile-minded cookie who unloads their entire sob story in one measly conversation!"

"It's not fragile to-"

"Besides..we haven't spoken in eons, so you don't even know HALF of what I've been through!! Not within the Silver Tree! NOT with Pure Vanilla Cookie! Not even before I turned to deceit!!"

Despite his anger, you remain unperturbed. "Exactly my point. So..why don't you help me understand? Let's talk about it."

"....like....right now?"

"Yeah? Unless you have an important date tonight."

"....hahahaha...AHAHAHAHA. Didn't you hear me, stupid cookie?! Obviously not, so allow me to rephrase it.......THERE'S NO WAY IN HELL THAT I'M EVER GOING TO-!!"

Fast forward to sometime later, when Black Sapphire Cookie finally finds his master...leaning on your shoulder while basically trauma dumping. The deceitful Beast was speaking from his mind, unfiltered, to a Legendary Cookie he's never met before.

"-and that was after Mystic Flour Cookie started going off the deep end. But could anyone blame her? No. Those damn cookies got greedy and began asking for the impossible."

"Mhm." You simply nod. "And after seeing her like that...what was going through your mind?"

"...like we were all just...losing it. So I guess hopeless? Scared that we were getting out of hand? I dunno. All I wanted was to be their teacher, to show them the truth....and look at me now!! I warned Pure Vanilla Cookie he'd fall down the same path if he continued the way he was headed...that traitorous prick.."

"He did tell me you rejected his friendship. But..would you consider revisiting that?" You hummed.

"I...no. I mean..I....I-I don't know.." He seems confused with himself. "I told the guy I hated him! What doesn't he get? He could have finished me off! Why does he still try after all I did to him?!"

"Because he sees the good in everyone, even you. I don't fully understand the soul jam connection, but...it seems like he's aware of your true feelings. Your loneliness after all that time spent in the tree. And you keep trying to deny them, afraid to draw back the curtain and express what you really feel."

"But when you've been a ruler of deceit since forever..why would I ever do that?! I don't need anyone! I....I especially don't need you or that stupid goody two shoes soul jam thief! But he....he just...why doesn't he just quit already?!" His voice cracks at the end. "H-He knows I'm a lost cause.."

Even though you can't see his face, the eyes on his hair are weeping, and that prompts you to put your arm around him. "It's easy for you to lie to others, but lying to yourself is way harder."

Despite not saying anything back, he doesn't reject the comfort.

In fact he unknowingly leaned against you more.

Black Sapphire can't believe what he's seeing--almost certain it's an illusion, but no.

This was the master of deceit confiding in someone else. Someone more familiar.

Despite feeling slightly jealous, he decides to leave you two be, distracting Candy Apple Cookie so she doesn't barge in and ruin things.

Burning Spice Cookie

"Ah, Burning Spice Cookie. Herald of Change, time hasn't been kind to-"

"You DARE utter that title?!! It is dead to me..just like you will be in a few moments!!" The Great Destroyer looms over you with his axe at the ready, scowling as you crossed paths with him in the ruins of his Spice Temple.

It was considerably difficult to even speak to him alone, especially with the last remnants of the Wild Spice warriors and Nutmeg Tiger Cookie trying their damnest to fight off your calming abilities...but not even their hardy dough can block it forever.

They let you through to see their master at his lowest point, even though he was still on a high from battling the recently awakened Golden Cheese Cookie.

"That's too bad. I was hoping you'd remember me. I was there when you once held that title with pride" You huff. "You welcomed me into your kingdom with open arms, allowing me to speak to the Wild Spices who had troubles on their minds, and the warriors who came home scarred by the things they've seen."

"....ah...you do seem familiar." He muses. "That's right. You're [Y/n] Cookie. The Legendary warrior of words. I bet you've never lifted a weapon in your life."

"My tongue is the only weapon I need, Burning Spice Cookie." You counter with equal sass.

Least to say...you intrigue him. You didn't cower, and even after all this time and knowing the things he's done, you sought him out anyways.

All just to....convince him to share his feelings?

He had a lot to say, but didn't even know where to begin.

He wondered where you were when kingdoms crumbled around him.

He wondered where you were when he kept watching those he loved die while he continued on living.

He wondered where you were when he decided that the only cure to his pain was destruction.

"Well, it's useless here. You could never understand what I-"

"So help me understand. That's why I do what I do. To better understand all Cookies I meet." You frowned slightly. "You were so convinced that you had to be strong for your people. To act like the passage of time hadn't dimmed your light. I understand why you never visited me. And for that, I apologize. I should've put more effort into-"

"Don't apologize. There's nothing you could have said or done to change the way I felt back then." He growled. "What would have been the point?"

"Maybe not, but talking about what and how you're feeling is better than keeping it all inside. You have your generals, sure..but you seldom speak with them. Not wanting to seem weak or soft-doughed in their eyes."

"When they only ever see you as a god, why would...." Suddenly, he's aware of the vulnerability he was showing, and his whole demeanor flips on its head. "GRRRAHH!!" He slams his axe down, nearly splitting the earth between you. "All I feel is pissed off that you're trying to get inside my head! Who told you where I was, mind reader?!!"

"Oh..just a little golden birdie." You calmly reply. "I heard you two had a glorious final battle."

"...ah yes. In spite of my loss, it was...the most entertaining battle I've had in a long time." He grins, recounting that fight.

"Really? Do tell."

Before you know it, he's back to talking again--about the battle, what happened before that, and the rest is history.

Your calming powers have been hard at work, but you've finally gotten him to open up a little more, and somehow he feels...lighter?

It's weird feeling. Weird, but new.

At that time, Nutmeg Tiger returns to her senses and sees you talking to him, furious that she let her guard down and that you were speaking to her lord without permission--

Only for you to calmly stand up and walk away, while she's shouting for you to come back and explain your actions.

"Hexing a Wild Spice is one thing, but turning your back on one will be your LAST mistake-!"

"Enough, General. They will not trouble us anymore."

"...they won't? But my lord, they put a spell on us-!"

"I said enough." He snaps. "I've known [Y/n] Cookie since before you were baked. Has their spell impeded your duties?"

"No, but-"

"Then return to your post."

"....as you wish, Great One." She eventually leaves, and he continues to ponder over your talk with him.

Mystic Flour Cookie

Tracking her down in Beast Yeast was a rather simple task.

All you had to do was look where the white fog has gathered. Luckily, your abilities grant you immunity to the apathy that ordinary cookies would easily be overwhelmed by.

When Mystic Flour laid waste to the world with pale ailment storms, doctors, nurses, and healers dealt with the physical symptoms of patients--while you assisted with the mental.

They may not be crumbling and have flour-white dough anymore, but apathetic thoughts linger in their minds long after treatment. Passions are lost and replaced with nihilism, and your duty was to bring them out of those dark places and remind them of what they loved and how it's all worth it and meaningful in the end.

Luckily, you were able to guide them back on the right path again, and suddenly their eyes regained their spark; their dough's color was returned, and you'd send them off to resume their normal life.

After the Dark Cacao Kingdom was 100% liberated from the flour storm, you ventured to Beast Yeast to find her, eventually meeting Cloud Haetae Cookie, who had been revived.

They didn't seem bothered by the fact their own master killed them, taking you personally to see her and giving you steamed rolls as they talked about her battle with Dark Cacao Cookie.

"She almost convinced him to accept futility. She was so, so close..but then that fool had to go and summon these two dragons to help him-"

"Who are you speaking to, Cloud Haetae Cookie?"

Before you could respond, Mystic Flour takes one look at your face and immediately knows who you are.

"[Y/n] Cookie. You're the reason why my clouds of apathy have lifted.."

"Well..having a bunch of nameless, faceless cookies moping about doesn't exactly make the world go round, my dear." You jest, although you fall silent as she just stares through you. "I know your heart carries a most heavy burden. The burden of not being able to satisfy everyone..and being a victim of-"

"You have not once set foot in my Ivory Pagoda to talk. And now, after all these years..." Given her pause...you knew her emotions were trying to bubble to the surface. Like yeast rising.

"I understand. I've heard it from the others already. This...comes much too late." You bow your head. "I remember seeing those lines, and I didn't wish to be perceived as another beggar. I'm sure you already knew my wish."

"They always expected you to solve their problems." She continued. "But it never feels like enough, does it? Don't you grow weary of their endless demands? Their pleas for you to "fix" everything wrong with them? You can only help them so much before they bleed you dry and give you nothing, [Y/n] Cookie. Not even a "thank you". Trust me...I have been there." Her face darkens. "We are not so different."

"Perhaps not. We've always looked out for the best interest of cookies...at our own expense." You agreed. "But I know a lot of them have appreciated my help. I'm sorry they never gave you that same respect, Mystic Flour Cookie."

"I do not dwell on it, for it is futile. It's a shame that you would never come to accept that same futility."

"I don't see a reason to start now," you chuckle, before you talked to her more about your recent work and the cookies you've helped, including Shadow Milk and Burning Spice.

It's clear that you reminded her of her old self a lot--before all the selfish cookies came along and attributed to her pain and corruption and imprisonment.

She thought she could talk you out of that path, certain you'll realize what true futility is like she did...

But you remain steadfast in your duty to help all cookies you meet. Even her.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Mark ⋆⭒˚.⋆

idol!Mark x f!idol!reader

summary: you and you boyfriend Mark are paired up for an interview, but do you even know you're texting each other? No.

(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Mark got comfortable in the plush, pink chair of the Kode set with a shy smile, "Ah hello, I'm Mark from NCT." He pushes his earbuds into his ears and begins playing his music, "today I'll be known as Cheetah. Um, I couldn't really think of anything else and the fans already call me a cheetah so it was easy to think of."

On the opposite side of the wall, you settle into your own chair while smiling at the camera while introducing yourself, "I was so confused when I was asked to pick a wild cat as my screen name. It was such an oddly specific category, and even weirder when you told me cheetah was already taken. Anyway, I chose Tiger because they're the next prettiest."

Your music begins to play through your earbuds as your phone vibrates from the first message from your partner. "Yo?" you read in confusion, staring at your screen with pure confusion, "is that it? This is a man isn't it? Girls don't talk like this."

On the other side of the wall Mark laughs softly, covering his mouth as he reads the message. "This person is so happy. I've never seen anyone write hi with this many i's."

You and Mark text back and forth for a while, sharing your hobbies and sending memes back and forth until the both of your are giggling madly on your respective sides of the set. Of course, after nearly 2 years together you'd know how to make each other laugh, even without knowing you're texting each other. Your partner still doesn't give you any identifying traits or hints as to who they are. Well, besides clearly being a man based on how he texts.

Following the instruction of the staff, you send a screenshot of your home screen. You pout, feeling slightly bad for your partner. Just two days ago you'd gotten a new phone and hadn't yet had the time to make it yours. It was stuck with the boring default background and a handful of apps you considered to be essential. You explain as much with the text accompanying the screenshot.

And Mark's screenshot? Well, it might as well be just as boring as yours. He has the blur set on the photo so all you see is an indistinct mess of colors. Two distinct blobs which could be the shape of two people or two flowers or two guitars or two cats.

"Wow," you say as you typed out the word, "we are two very boring people. You really don't want me to know who you are."

Mark laughs out brightly while he reads your text, "me? You haven't even changed your own yet!"

"I told you I just got a new phone and haven't had time yet!" You laugh to yourself while typing out your message.

Your joking back and forth gets the two of you off track while you playfully poke fun at each other back and forth until the staff ask you both who you think you're texting. Mark looks at the camera while he tries to think, "I have no clue. It's a girl, surely but it could be anyone. Do you pick random people off the street to do these videos?"

On the other side of the wall, you blush softly, covering your face while your face cools down, "is it weird if I say it's my boyfriend? He just seems so much like Mark."

It's one of the few times you've ever referred to Mark as your boyfriend for any sort media. You and Mark had technically been a public couple for about a year now, since your respective companies had come out with their statements to reveal your relationship. How you'd been able to conceal a year of your relationship was beyond the both of you. Well, a lot of dark, oversized clothes and hats and masks to conceal your faces.

After the company statements, you and Mark seemed to be even better at hiding. You barely glanced at each other at award shows, and if you did, it was only friendly, nothing that could be interpreted as anything else. There were very few glimpses into your relationship beyond birthday and anniversary posts with obscured faces and sharing each other's most recent comebacks on your stories. Privacy was something you both valued and of course you were more than ok with doing any type of promotion with Mark, it just never worked out that way. Until now (not that you knew). Plus, it wasn't like this interview would give anyone any important details of your relationship anyway.

When the staff prompt you both to share a screenshot of your most recently listened to songs, you stare at your screen with a look of blank surprise, "this is just a mix of Drake and Justin Bieber. It's Mark, it has to be."

You zoom in on the picture, mumbling about how you see more music that is so distinctly Mark while on the other side Mark looks at the screenshot you send excitedly. "She's a fan! Of me! Wow, she's listened to Child and Golden Hour and 200! Ok, I have to chill out a bit," he tells himself even as he types out his message telling you that you have good music taste.

You snort at his message just as the staff laugh at the exchange at the same time. The head producer instructs you both to find your baby pictures to send to the other.

You look up from your phone, looking at the camera and the staff, "surely, you'd think a couple who have been together for this long have seen pictures of each other when they were kids, right?" The staff nods in response before you speak again, "well, we haven't! I've only seen what has been posted online. Same for him!"

Mark sends you a picture of him as a baby where he's a few months old and you coo immediately. You zoom in as close as you can drawing your phone closer to you face as you star adoringly at the baby on your screen. "He's the cutest little thing I've ever seen! I've never seen a cuter baby in my life! Oh, I just want to squeeze his cheeks and cuddle him," you gush over the adorable picture of the chubby baby boy with an adoring look on your face.

Mark looks at his phone, the camera, the staff, his phone again, the camera again with a look of pure and utter confusion as he looks at what he can only assume is a child covered in frosting. "You can barely tell this is a human, how is this supposed to help me figure out who I've been texting?" Mark asks, zooming in on the picture while the staff bursts out in laughter. When he finds out who he's talking to...

So when he staff ask for a final guess as to who you've been texting you say Mark's name confidently while Mark ultimately utters out, "Maybe someone from a girl group... maybe it's Yeri."

When the staff ask you both to stand and get ready to face each other to reveal yourselves. Instead of walking toward Mark, you find yourself behind the set so you're behind Mark.

Mark walks forward slowly, waiting to see when he'll spot his interview partner, but when he sees an empty spot, he faces the camera and the staff with a quizzical smile, "was I talking to a ghost?"

They laugh softly and murmur amongst themselves while you finally reach forward and tap his shoulder softly. Mark jumps, completely scared by the touch. He turns to you with his eyes wide with surprise, "you?!"

"Yes, me!"

After you're both seated at the high top table and calmed down from the surprise meeting with on another, you're both ready to talk to each other in front of the camera once again. You smile softly at your boyfriend, "I knew it was you."

Mark scoffs, "how?"

"Yo," you repeat the word from his first message with a poor imitation of his voice, "all the Drake, all the Bieber-- oh my gosh, Mark! Your baby picture!"

Mark laughs, taking your hand in his out of view of the camera, "speaking of baby pictures, what did you send me?"

Your brows furrow softly at his question, "I sent you a picture of me as a baby."

"There's no way that was you. You look like a little cake monster."

"It was from my first birthday..." you pout at Mark.

"Don't get pouty with me, you were completely covered, how could I have known? I can pout too! My face used to be your homescreen and now it's the plain default screen," Mark tells you with a playful pointed look.

"Mark," you deadpan, "you were with me when I got my new phone."

"Oh yeah..." Mark blushes with embarrassment.

"Anyway, who did you think I was?"

Mark squeezes your hand nervously beneath the table, his thumb rubbing at your knuckles a little anxiously, "I had no clue, to be honest. I knew you were a girl but I didn't know it was you."

When the staff ask Mark how he didn't know but you did, all he can do is blush and laugh out a nervous response. You turn to him with a playful accusatory look of your own, "yeah, how come you didn't know?"

"I don't really pay attention to how you text, just what we text about..."

You and the staff coo as you pinch his cheeks and cup his face lovingly, "you're so cute, but you were cuter as a baby."

"My mom says the same thing," Mark rolls his eyes.

Your conversation winds down and you both pose for the selfie at the end. You both pull silly faces, cheeks pressed together and eyes scrunched shut with your tongues sticking out.

Despite the stupid picture you both took, the screen fades to black with a completely different picture of you and Mark laughing while looking at each other with hearts in your eyes and bright smiles on your faces.