#and in at least one of the two galaxies. there’s a planet just like earth with a boy just like him

[shewhoeatssand]

what if his pupils are actually each supermassive black holes and the minute details in each of his irises were all nebulae and solar systems and asteroids and galaxies of their own all residing in his deep grey eyes and part of a world of inception so small we can’t see it

[andypantsx3]

𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 : 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: 1.7k of unedited alien prince shouto thoughts based on this post from the other day! sfw, gender neutral reader. several elements of this universe were borrowed from my fave sci-fi novel; see end notes for deets!

he's beautiful—the todoroki prince. tall and strong in his high-collared uniform, strapped with lean muscle and handsomely humanoid. he's the first thing that snares your gaze as your party is guided into the hall of the sun—the reception dome that overlooks the rise of the star yuuei in the morning sky, used by the ruling family to receive visiting dignitaries.

it is morning, in endeavorian planetary time, and the sun has begun to rise. its light is weaker than you remember from back home—almost watery, pooling like quicksilver in the panes of the dome's ceiling.

up at the front of the hall, it catches in the strands of the white half of the prince's hair. from what izuku has told you, it's the half that indicates he's part of the himura bloodline. the himura dynasty has ruled the yuuei system from its capital planet of endeavor iv for tens of thousands of earth-years. it's the second longest line of unbroken rulers in mapped galactic history, an impressive feat.

the other half of the prince's hair is a fiery red, like that of the man who stands next to him—todoroki enji, the general of intergalactic renown, who donated half of prince shouto's genome as well as his clan name. each time a himuran royal from the main line marries, izuku had explained, talking at lightspeed in the podship, they take a branch name, typically sourced from the primary gene-donator. it helps keep inheritance lines clear.

prince shouto looks like he's inherited empress rei and todoroki enji's genes in exactly half—his coloring split down the middle, though his features are perfectly, almost hauntingly symmetrical. he wears a pin of flint at his collar that symbolizes his gender—one of yuuei's thirteen official designations. from what you understand from izuku, it most closely aligns with earth designation "man".

it's embarrassing how much you notice about the prince as you file into the hall, stationing yourself right at the gap between izuku and tenya's shoulders, so you can still see todoroki shouto.

"you don't think they'll reject the treaty and kill us all, do you?" denki mumurs nervously as he presses in behind you.

"no, i don't think so," izuku's gentle voice drifts back to you. he's a three-star ethnologist, studying for a command ethnology post. subsequently he's the most informed of any of the cadets that have been sent along with the treatise party. you and denki are just mechanics, sent along in case anything goes wrong.

"the alliance would be too much trouble for the yuuei," izuku explains. "they have good relations with the surrounding galaxies and tight control over a lot of resources. but the alliance is really large now, compared to the last time they approached the yuuei. they'll likely want to accept at least a loose federation with the allies."

up on the platform at the front of the hall, prince shouto blinks long and slow, like an earth cat. you realize with a start it's the first time you've seen him blink at all, and the subtle reminder that he is not just an extraordinarily handsome human man but the prince of an alien species makes your skin prickle.

"don't you think it's weird they are all this pretty?" denki asks. "it's weird, right?"

"definitely weird," you laugh, your eyes trailing over prince shouto's blade-straight nose, his pert, perfect mouth. "possibly illegal under intergalatic law."

prince shouto stills all of a sudden, and there is the tiniest tilt of his head. two heterochromatic eyes flick over your way, and you are completely embarrassed by the way your stomach swoops in response. you just manage not to grab onto tenya's uniform to steady yourself.

one of the prince's eyebrow arches almost imperceptibly, and you wonder if he's heard you from this distance—but no, that would be insane.

denki picks up his commentary, emboldened by your playing along. you think the prince's eyes linger just a little too long on the gap between izuku and tenya's shoulders, but then you're distracted by the reception beginning.

the alliance treaty officer strides forward, flanked by a few of the other officials your crew had ferried here. she performs an elaborate bow, as do the other officials. from izuku's muttering you gather it's some sort of ritualistic greeting, and empress rei at least looks pleased with it, waving a gentle hand to gesture the party forward.

there is some shuffling as various aides set up a table and a series of holo-tablets, along with various inks, a leathery roll of endeavorian traditional parchment, and—

"is that a knife?" you ask, peering at the long obsidian blade placed on the table in front of the officials.

izuku's fluffy head of green curls inclines. "treaties are sealed twice. once in the alliance fashion and then again in the local custom, to make it binding per both systems. blood pacts have been used in yuuei for millennia."

the brush of something over your face has your gaze turning back to the prince—to find him staring straight at you, those unblinking eyes boring into you.

"izuku, weird question. can the yuuei hear across rooms?" you ask, suddenly self-conscious.

a green eye peers back at you. "only in the event of their pair bonds—the yuuei are documented hearing their matepair across approximately ten earth-kilometers. i think we're safe over here though. why?"

matepair. the world settles strangely under your skin, as the prince's eyes brush across it.

"uh, matepair?" you echo.

tenya gives both you and izuku a quelling look, but it's not enough to deter izuku from ducking down to explain in slightly quieter tones. "the yuuei look human but they pair differently. they form a parapsychic bond with only a single partner, which they maintain and uphold for life. it's not just cultural—it's like a physical compulsion. they cannot take another pair, and they cannot be separated for long periods or they grow sick."

prince shouto is still staring straight at you, and it's not quite comforting enough to know that he cannot possibly hear you.

it's only his role in the ceremony that seems to eventually break the prince's weird focus in your direction. he steps forward to perform his duty as empress rei's chosen heir. you almost flinch as the knife draws across the pale skin of his palm, and he adds several drips of silvery blood to the parchment, symbolizing yuuei's intent to uphold the treaty across future monarchs.

the flesh of his palm knits itself back together in seconds, and another little shiver goes up your spine. those mismatched eyes flash back your way as he steps back, and the various aides and officials once again converge on the documents.

there is a brief flurry of activity, various bows and oaths, some stilted endeavorian verse. the chief treaty officer looks relieved when it's all over, and the royal family steps down from the dais to greet the rest of the visiting party, as is the customary honor granted to allies to the yuuei. tenya ushers you into the queue near the back with denki, a symbol of your lower status as mechanics.

you don't mind, as the thought of reaching prince shouto has your stomach doing what feel like backflips in your gut. the longer the delay the better.

izuku had walked everyone through the appropriate greetings on the podship, a few murmured words and a hand touch at chest-level—extremely hard to mess up, even for you. but nevertheless your pulse kicks up the closer you draw to the royal family.

there's a long line of them you greet first. offshoot branch members, then general todoroki enji, whose enormous palm burns hot against yours and who looks he'd rather take your party's hands off than touch them. then rei's unchosen heirs—the princess fuyumi, prince natsuo—and a gap where prince touya would have stood, were he not offworld.

and then you're standing in front of prince shouto, your pulse pounding in your ears. he's extremely tall up close, clearing six feet easily, broad across the shoulders and handsome in a way that almost makes your teeth ache. the yuuei look deceptively human, but this near you can see the tiny details that separate them from you—the slight double-point to their ears, the silvery undertone to their skin, the prolonged space between their breaths and their blinks.

and of course their inhuman beauty. they don't quite look like regular people, and it sparks a tiny note of wariness in the primeval part of your human hindbrain.

prince shouto's mismatched eyes pin you, silver and blue, as a sudden, silvery flush creeps across his face. you hold your hand out in greeting, trying not to wonder if you've somehow managed to offend him already—but instead of pressing his palm against yours, his long fingers suddenly grasp yours, clasping tightly.

beyond him, empress rei freezes too. all at once you can feel every single himuran noble turn to look at you, hundreds of eyes pinning on you.

reflexively, words tumble out of you. "shit did i—what did i do? were you supposed to get a different hand thingy?"

you can hear the treaty officer's horrified inhale at the terms shit and hand thingy, deployed in crass galactic standard in front of a literal prince. you immediately wish you could take them back, but from the look on the prince's face, he's already heard them.

something at the corner of his mouth twitches, like he's trying not to smile.

"y/n," he says, in a deep tone. it's crisply accented and just as beautiful as the rest of him.

it takes you a second to realize prince shouto has used your name, which he could not possibly know considering the uniform you'd been issued for the yuuei visit has no unique identifiers on it. you glance down at yourself, then back up at him, befuddled.

"how did you—? where did you—?" you garble out. "did denki put you up to this? how do you know me?"

prince shouto's fingers smooth over yours, delightfully warm, calloused and sure. "i would know you in any universe," he says, voice soft. behind you, you hear princess fuyumi make a tiny sound of delight.

you blink. "universe? what—uh, what universe? how would you—?"

but shouto leans in, tugging you closer with those deceptively strong fingers. he's so very warm up close, and so beautiful it makes your brain short circuit, especially as he lowers his face to yours. a shiver rolls down your spine as his other hand takes you gently by the chin.

and then he murmurs a single word before pressing his mouth to yours—

"matepair."

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: credits where they are due!! the idea of a space general dna donator, an overarching space alliance pursuing a treaty, & the flint pin denoting gender were taken from my fave sci-fi novel winter's orbit by everina maxwell! (if you love heartfelt gay love stories in space i am actually begging you to read it).

[gi4hao]

vernon x gn!reader — lighthearted fluff, teasing as a love language, vernon is a nerd

plot: vernon is in a flirty mood. that’s literally it.

“don’t you think it’s a weird saying?”

on your right, vernon hums interrogatively without taking his eyes off of the tv.

“the guy just told her ‘i love you to the moon and back’. i think it’s a weird thing to say.”

this time he turns his head towards you. partly out of interest for your last words, but mostly to grab the bucket of popcorn you’ve been hogging.

“you’re right, how dare he declare his love to his wife? such a weirdo…” he scoffs as he grabs a handful of popcorn, slightly frowning at the realization that there were a lot more last time he had the bucket on his lap.

his unserious reply calls for more drastic measures, so you grab the remote and pause the movie.

“i’m just saying, why the moon? why not the sun? it’s much farther.”

vernon takes a couple of seconds to ponder over your observation, face completely still except for his active chewing.

“good point. if it were me, i’d tell you i love you to GN-z11 and back,” he remarks, but immediately notices that something is not clicking in your brain. “it’s the farthest galaxy from earth. well, that we know of at least.”

“oh wow… you’re such a nerd,” you chuckle, “you’re telling me you just woke up one day wanting to know what’s the farthest point from our planet and looked it up?”

your puzzled expressions look almost similar in that moment, although provoked by two very different things. to vernon, none of his words are worth such a dumbfounded reaction.

“…yeah? is this what i get for trying to be romantic? bullying?” he replies with an air of fake offense. “nevermind, i guess i only love you to the supermarket and back then.”

the gasp you let out is so loud it almost makes him flinch and knock the bucket over. but that gasp was nothing compared to the way you suddenly slump down on him, fully taking him by surprise.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! i love your nerdy flirting, i would die if i had to live without your fun little facts, i’m so serious!” you exclaim, hands on his cheeks to force him to look at you. “i love you to that galaxy with a weird name and back, i swear! now say it back please.”

it’s not that vernon doesn’t feel like continuing this fake argument just for fun, it’s that he physically cannot with your pleading eyes staring right into his.

“i’ll forgive you if you let me finish the popcorn…” he starts, pausing until you’ve nodded in agreement, “and yes, i love you to GN-z11 and back, of course i do.”

it takes all your physical and mental strength to not tell him how cute he looks with his cheeks slightly squished by your palms. so instead, you channel this affection into a loud kiss on his lips, which he extends by placing a gentle hand on the back of your head, applying more pressure on your mouth.

when your lips part, your eyes are opened a bit wider than usual, still surprised by the intensity of his kiss; which he notices with a slight smirk.

now laying on top of him, you prop yourself up on your elbows, a bit out of breath:

“they need to discover a farther galaxy. this one isn’t gonna be enough,” you blurt out, and watch his smirk morph into a genuine smile, bringing a light blush to his cheeks.

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED <3

[transformers-synergize]

Do you have any more stuff for Sunny & Sides? Your designs for them are some of the best I've seen, and I'd love to know more about your plans or headcanons for them!

No pressure ofc, I support you and your absolute galaxy brain :D

Sure, here is a bunch of random stuff about in no particular order, lot of this stuff was just pulled from my notes but whatever lol 

Sunstreaker is egotistical, he knows he is the best and makes sure everyone knows it too. He also has the skills, looks, and combat prowess to back it up. Sunstreaker only really cares about himself and Sideswipe, considering pretty much every bots below him or not worth his time. He often makes sly comments, belittling or cracking jokes about bots whom he deems lesser. His friends are either Sideswipes friends who can tolerate him or bots who think he's cool, which is usually due to factors outside his personality. He's always down for a good fight, being ruthless and downright merciless in combat while still somehow managing to get as little dirt, energon, or other various combat filth on himself as possible, sometimes being nearly spotless after a battle aside from the energon coating his blade. Sunny likes to keep himself in good condition, making sure his paint is perfect and his polish shines, it really helps accentuate how he's the best.

Sideswipe is the nicer of the two brothers. He's outgoing and usually pretty friendly. Sideswipes is always looking for a fight. He loves the thrill of combat. He often treats serious situations more like a game than the high-danger situations he often places in. Sideswipe often can't sit still and always need something to do, and if there is nothing fun to do then he will make his own fun, he is often sparring with his fellow Autobots, trying risky stunts, pulling pranks on other bots and generally just causing chaos. He's very impulsive, often doing the first thing that comes to mind because he thought it might be fun, never considering the consequences. He's kinda like a jock who treats war like a sport with an almost ruthless approach to combat. He often tenses and banter with other autobots, sometimes making jokes at their expense, but unlike Sunny, he usually knows when to stop or when he's gone too far.

info dump bellow↓↓↓

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker both emerged during the Autobot Decepticon war and never known peace times. They are the youngest of the crashed Autobots, both being around a thousand years old, which is very young when your species can live to their hundred thousands.

Twins are what happens when a shuttle-sized spark splits into two, so before Sideswipe and Sunstreaker split, their emerging was highly anticipated because shuttles are rare and extremely powerful, but their spark ended up splitting. When they finally emerged, it was a great disappointment.

they were mentored by Inferno and, to a lesser extent, his conjux Redalert (they are one of the many reasons for Redalerts anxiety). Sideswipe has a pretty good relationship with his mentors Sunny… not so much 

Sunny hates Earth, it's filthy it's wet it's squishy it's sticky it's too hot, at least compared to Cybertron's frigid temperatures, and its dominant species are nothing but a pain he hates he has to hide his existence from the stupid inferior fleshy creatures that rule this dirtball of a planet he hates how often on missions he has to have a fleshy human chaperone to perform basic task that he could easily do himself or wouldn't be a problem if humans just didn't exist. Whichever bot or bots are on a mission with Sunny where human help is required, the other bot will always be the one transporting the human because Sunny refuses to let a human inside of him.

Sideswipe likes Earth, there so much to see it his first time being anywhere without the war consent looming present of the great war, but having to hide all the time on Earth is frustrating, he's been able to seek out and do some street races without Prowl knowing, he likes quite a lot of human stuff human music is pretty good and he like some human tv shows and movies mostly the ones with a lot of actions and explosion, he like interacting with the humans he's allowed to interact with especially Carly and Raoul, thought Sideswipe often struggles to understand how fragile humans are and often can put them at risk without even knowing it. Sideswipe is still a little homesick for Cybertron, even if he's only ever known it as a war-torn mess.

their poses often mirror each other

Sunny tells Sideswipe to smile with his mouth closed because his split beak. 

Sunny is the decision-maker of the two, and though Sideswipe may make destinations for himself on his own as a pair, Sunny always has the final say. 

Sunstreaker hates Sideswipe stickers but gave up on trying to remove them because whenever he tried, he got his claws sticky. 

Sunstreaker and Tracks have a bit of a rivalry going on, though Tracks hates Sunstreaker more than Sunstreaker dislikes Tracks. Also, Sunny usually comes out as the victor of most of their little spats.

Sideswipe pulls pranks but doesn't dare prank Sunstreaker because he knows there will be hell to pay if he messes up his brother's paint job. 

sideswipe loves to cause chaos, Sunny often help

Sunny has some artistic talent, though he doesn't use it much

Sunstreaker always makes sure his frame is clean and in near-perfect condition. Sideswipe doesn't care as much but Sunny, make sure Sideswipe keeps up to a certain standard.

Sideswipe is very extroverted, loves interacting with other bots, and will talk to basically anyone. Sunny is more introverted and prefers to keep to himself and select bots. Sunny tries to encourage his brother not to hang out with bots he considers not good enough to be associated with them which is most bots.

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

As for plans for them, I like keeping what I share plot-wise pretty vague. They appear pretty early on, and they both are pretty plot-important. I don't really care about spoiling characters who appear in the first seven chapters. After that, I'm a little more sneaky and vague about who will appear.

[reginaldqueribundus]

the Sarek family is hilarious to me because you have so much drama in one place. there have got to be at least 3 like, holo-documentaries or whatever about them. how could you not?

you have Sarek, the patriarch: one of the UFP's top diplomats, who knocks up a Vulcan princess then goes “hrm I am ambassador to Earth therefore I should marry a human” and he does, upsetting all sorts of the worst kinds of people on his home planet and causing racist hate groups to try to blow him and his family up multiple times, and seems honestly more put out by his son joining Starfleet than his other son becoming Vulcan Moriarty

Amanda, the matriarch: an accomplished educator and quite possibly the only well-adjusted member of the family, but when her son Spock shows up on her doorstep after growing a beard, having a mental breakdown and apparently murdering several medical staff she still shrugs and hides him in the family mausoleum

Sybok: Amanda's stepson from the aforementioned princess fling, who becomes an antiestablishment criminal mastermind with an edgelord fake name, hooks up with a hot space pirate, finds religion, starts a cult, takes an entire colonial government hostage sparking a diplomatic incident involving three galactic superpowers, and hijacks a Starfleet ship to the galactic core to find the Vulcan Garden of Eden, where he dies fighting god in hand-to-hand combat

Michael, a traumatized human girl Sarek brings home from a work trip, who joins Starfleet, becomes their first-ever mutineer, goes to prison, saves the Federation from a war most people think is her fault and gets “killed” in a highly classified, very suspicious incident involving an experimental starship and a series of red lights that appeared across the galaxy like a divine omen (oh, and returns 900 years later to solve the dilithium crisis, kill the head of the Emerald Chain and save two entire star systems including her siblings' homeworld)

and last but not least Sarek & Amanda's one-of-a-kind hybrid baby. Spock, who gets accepted into the Vulcan Science Academy, tells them to go fuck themselves when they're racist about it, runs off to Starfleet instead, gets so famous his arranged marriage falls apart resulting in him publicly strangling his own captain to death except not really, steals the Federation flagship twice, invents time travel, saves the entire planet Earth, dies and comes back to life, goes into his dad's line of work and achieves peace with the freaking Klingons as his opening act, then after a long successful career suddenly dips to go do extremely dangerous underground activism on one of the most paranoid authoritarian worlds in the galaxy to unify the Romulans & Vulcans who've hated each other for over a thousand years — and he isn't around to see it but it eventually works. then he fucks off with the VSA's high-speed prototype ship full of the most dangerous substance known to science and gets sucked into a black hole of his own creation, never to be seen again. and this is just the stuff that's public knowledge!

then you dig into the novels where Sarek's ancestor basically makes out with Zefram Cochrane 5 seconds after meeting him and Amanda tells the press her husband has a huge cock

I love them

[bots-and-cons]

Just saw that your requests are open and would like to request an angst/no comfort scenario for Megatron.

Imagine his romantic partner defected to the autobots because of the violent behavior of the cons and was presumed MIA. Once both fractions are on earth, the s/o shows up and both meet each other again after a long time during a fight.

I hope everything is understandable. (Sorry for grammar mistakes, english is not my main languages)

A/N: Oh boy, I love writing angst and the little sprinkle of “no comfort” is just great lol. I also have this scenario which I wrote like years ago, but it’s also total angst with Megatron. I also got an idea for a part 2. Idk if I’ll ever get around to it, but we’ll see

He couldn’t believe his optics. It was you, it was really you. The video from his troops' first battle on this puny planet was playing on the screen and you were right there. You were fighting against the decepticons you had once been a part of, alongside the autobots and that damned Prime.

“Turn it off” Megatron growled at Starscream.

“That traitor, I’ll have them disassembled for this” Starscream hissed as he paused the feed.

“You will do no such thing! Now leave me!” Megatron raised his voice, not even glancing at the seeker.

His optics were fixed on the screen. It couldn’t be anyone else, he knew that frame as well as he did his own, or at least he did in the past. How many more scars had you acquired during your time away from him? How much had you changed? How much had the autobots managed to brainwash you for you to fight alongside them?

Back when you had joined the autobots, you had been lost. You couldn’t stand the decepticons and their cruelty anymore, but above all you couldn’t watch what Megatron was becoming. He wasn’t the same mech you had fallen in love with so long ago. You had tried to reason with him so many times, but it always seemed to fall on deaf ears. Even the way he looked at you wasn’t the same as it had been. There was something dark about it, something wrong. You weren’t even sure if there was love in his optics anymore when he looked at you. It was such a drastic contrast to the warm, loving gaze the two of you once shared. So you left, you left behind all your friends, everyone you knew and your whole life. You hoped that maybe you could make up for some of the pain you had caused by joining the autobots.

You had a reputation among the autobots of course. The partner of Megatron, the mech that was the root of all evil. The one who had stood by the most terrible warlord the galaxy had ever seen, while he had destroyed your home planet and slaughtered countless of your fellow cybertronians. You knew you had a responsibility to try to balance the scales. You just wished you’d realized it sooner.

Megatron needed to find you, he needed to know why and how you disappeared. The thought of you leaving him of your own free will had never really even crossed his mind. He had been sure you’d been captured by the autobots, that you hadn’t just left him, but now his faith in that was wavering. He needed to know the truth, and he needed to hear it from you.

Megatron was on earth. That certainly explained the uneasy sense of dread you’d been feeling, but when you heard Ratchet say the words, it didn’t make you feel better. If anything, you felt even worse. You had never wanted to see him again, but now he was here. You were on the same planet as him again, and you didn’t know what to do or how to feel. You would have to face him eventually, probably in the field of battle, and you didn’t know if you could handle it. You didn’t give him an explanation, you just left during one mission and never went back. You would never go back. The autobots, even during war, had shown you a world of empathy, kindness and true friendship. They were your family. Something you never really had with the decepticons.

Even though you wanted to, you didn’t hate him. Somewhere deep inside, you might’ve still even loved him, but you had pushed those feelings aside long ago. When the time came, you would be willing to pay for your sins with your life if that’s what was needed. If it would save others, you would give your life to save your allies from the one you once called the love of your life. If someone had to die by his hand, you’d rather it be you than anyone else.

It took weeks, but when Megatron finally got word that you had appeared at an energon mine with a couple of autobots, he rushed there, not wasting a second. When he finally saw you on the battlefield, you looked the same as you did the day he lost you. The two of you looked at each other, and for just a second, it was like there was no one else there. For a moment, it was just the two of you, and for a moment Megatron was convinced things could be like they had once been. Then it happened, you turned your blaster towards him and the look in your optics was one he’d never seen before.

You hesitated, just for a split second, but that was enough for him to dodge your shot. You could see his expression change as you fired. He looked like he couldn’t believe what you’d done. That you would turn your weapon against him. Then it came, that look of rage and that the burning hatred you’d seen him aim at so many others. There was a time you’d been sure he’d never look at you like that, but here you were. You were aiming to kill the one you used to love more than anything, and you almost couldn’t bear it.

Megatron couldn’t believe that it had come to this. The one he had loved and still loved was attempting to kill him. He had given you everything, and you were trying to take his life. This must have been the work of the autobots. There was no other option, you would never try to hurt him of your own free will. He looked around frantically with a crazed look in his optics and pinpointed the Prime in the middle of the battle.

You could see Megatron looking at Optimus and you knew what he was thinking. You moved before you could even really think. Megatron was so laser focused on Optimus, that you managed to tackle him and make him fall off the cliff behind him. You fell with him.

Megatron didn’t even realize what he’d done before his back hit the ground. The fall wasn’t long, so it didn’t really affect him, but when he noticed he had wrapped his arms around you in a protective manner to shield you from the fall, he didn’t know what to think. The anger that had just been burning in his chest was gone, and all he could think about was having you in his arms again.

“Let me go” you said quietly as he kept holding onto you, while laying on the ground on his back.

He couldn’t help but ask. He had to know, he had to hear it from you.

“What happened to you?” Megatron asked, still holding you so you couldn’t get away. Your arms were pinned to your sides, and you were laying on his chest, facing him.

You couldn’t look at him. You were afraid that if you did, you would throw away everything you had built with the autobots just because he looked at you lovingly again. You were afraid you would give in and go back to him. You didn’t want that. You would never be treated like that again. You wouldn’t be treated like an object, or a trophy he could parade around.

“Let me go” you repeated, forcing the words out of your mouth.

Megatron hesitated for a moment, but he decided to let you go. He wanted an explanation, but no matter what it was, he was going to take you with him. 

You got some distance between him and yourself, but you still didn’t look at him. Not in the optics anyway. He looked the same he had the day you left, but there was a different, more destructive air about him.

“What happened to you?” he repeated.

You weren’t going to answer, and you didn’t owe him an explanation, but you still opened your mouth, but before you could say anything, a nearby explosion interrupted you.

“Come on (Name), we have to go!” Arcee yelled from on top of the cliff.

You looked up at Arcee and then glanced at Megatron, who took a step towards you. You could guess what he was thinking. He surely wanted to take you with him, but you couldn’t allow that to happen. You swiftly started climbing back to the top of the cliff.

Megatron took another step forward, but froze as he noticed a few of the autobots standing on top of the cliff, pointing their blasters at him. He considered his options for a moment, and no matter how much he wanted to drag you back to the Nemesis with him, it wasn’t worth a potentially serious injury. All he could do was watch as you climbed up and got to the top of the cliff. You were going to slip away again. You were going to be taken away from him again.

You were about to leave, but you finally gave into the desire to look back at Megatron. This time you met his gaze, and you could feel yourself growing confused as soon as you met his optics. You weren’t sure what to make of his expression. For a second, just a second, you thought you could see the old him. The one before the war started, the one you’d fallen in love with so long ago, but that thought faded as his optics grew colder and his expression hardened. Now all you could see was that same jealousy and possessiveness you’d seen before you left him. He looked at you like a possession, something he owned, something that he thought had been stolen from him and something that he would tear through anything to get back. That thought terrified you.

He would get you back, and he would do anything to make that happen. He would rip apart the autobots to get to you and make sure you could never be taken from him again. You were his, and he would get you back and never let you go again.

[imaginedanvrs]

a galaxy stands between us

part 2 l masterlist

summary: adjusting from one enclosure to another proves challenging when you're unsure who to trust

word count: 4.5k

warnings: mentions of past confinement, allusions to schizophrenia

“Thor’s basically an alien and he looks like a regular dude,” Tony stated as he tinkered with his newest helmet model, seemingly the most relaxed at what the team might be keeping in their med bay. “Carol Danvers is half alien and looks normal when she’s not glowing,” he continued. 

  “Neither of those things are true,” Natasha corrected, having talked to the younger captain about her human-kree dna ratio in the past. 

  “It doesn’t matter if she’s from this planet or not,” Steve said. “What matters is what she’s capable of. What if she has powers like Wanda or a hulk like Bruce that she can’t control?”

  “Her name is y/n,” Wanda input. “But you’re right,” she agreed, surprising everyone in the room to hear her say. “What then? Will you send her to S.H.I.E.L.D to lock her up? Will you put another collar on her? You know what happens when people try to control something because they’re afraid of it,” the Sokovian argued adamantly. Natasha couldn’t help but look at her partner with pride as they both stood in your corner. “You can wait for those test results, but I’m going to talk to y/n,” she declared to the room and left no room for anyone to stop her. 

  “Just let us try,” Natasha added, seeing the discontent on Steve’s face as he watched them both leave and turned his attention back to the records on screen. You had graduated high school five years prior and had been accepted into a university you had never gotten the chance to attend. There were legitimate files of you entering the foster system as a baby and the circumstances of which were unclear but it seemed you’d be abandoned. Natasha had been the one to point out that from Earth or not, you had spent enough time on the planet to at least have the rights of a human. 

  Meanwhile, you were adjusting to foreign feeling of being more conscious than you could recall being in a significantly long time. The world had a piercingly clear filter placed over it that you had once taken for granted. Still, it was entirely overwhelming when your attention was drawn to every minor aspect of your surroundings that you never would have taken any notice of before. You could have sworn you were able to count how many chemicals went into creating the overly sterile smell that was entrapped in the room with you. You could hear the faint hum of the lights hanging over you like a fly you couldn’t swat away and the brightness that came with it was even worse. What’s more, you could feel the cold breeze coming through the air conditioning that was making the hairs on your arms stand like tiny spikes. The only good thing that came from your reawakened senses was your ability to appreciate just how soft the sheets below you were. You hadn’t stopped bunching them up in your fists ever since you woke up. 

  It was strange, not being able to remember what it felt like to have full awareness of your surroundings. Unfortunately, the one aspect of your mind that remained was the part you wanted gone the most.

  “It’s an improvement,” your stubborn companion told you as he stalked around the edge of the room and inspected everything he laid his orange eyes on. “Just don’t trust them,” he said. You didn’t respond, all too aware of the camera blinking in the corner of the room. You didn’t know who these people were, but you were sure it wouldn’t be ideal if they saw you talking to someone who wasn’t there. You needed to keep that to yourself, at least until you knew what they wanted from you. “And don’t look weak,” he added as he spotted the two women venturing down the corridor towards your room that they stepped into with ease, making you suddenly very aware of how easy it would be to come and go from the room as you pleased. You rubbed your wrists subconsciously where your cuffs had turned them red. No chains either. 

  Neither of the women were dressed in the usual white coats or tunics you were used to seeing. They wore casual clothing, and carried a similar pair, as though they had invited you into their own home like an abandoned stray they found on the streets. Though neither was standing overly close to you, the subtle scent of oak and vanilla drifted across subtly and was a welcomed change from the smell of chemicals. Combined with the looks of sheer curiosity, they did little to intimidate you and you wondered if that was worth trusting. 

  “How are you feeling?” The first woman spoke. You couldn’t say for sure, but if you had to guess you would say the women before you were the ones that had taken you from your old room. You swallowed the dryness in your mouth that shifted to your throat and nodded, holding no faith in your inactive voice box to give them an audible response. The redhead seemed to notice and glanced at the full water jug on the table next to you. 

  “That water’s for you,” she offered, less smiley than the brunette though her sincerity was still present. You nodded again, not about to tell her that thirst was normal ever since you had started being peg fed. Surely they had seen the small tube across your stomach. “And so are the clothes,” she added as she placed them down on the edge of the bed. They looked to be a set of comfortable sweatpants and shirt.

  “I’m Wanda, by the way, and this is Natasha,” the brunette chipped in as she sat down in the chair next to your bed. Natasha lingered for a moment before taking the seat next to her. Wanda noticed your hesitancy as you regarded them both. “Don’t worry, she’s not as scary as she looks.” At this, the redhead cracked a smile towards the floor while the bear man grunted in acknowledgment, still wandering the perimeter. “We want to help you, y/n,” Wanda said with a sincerity you really hoped was genuine. You didn’t want to let yourself get too hopeful, nor would your embodied conscious let you, yet the pair brought an undeniably hint of calm upon you that wasn’t artificial for once. 

  “And to do that we need to know if you have any abilities we should know about,” Natasha added. 

  “Don’t,” the bear man warned and you had to resist the urge to look at him because you couldn’t answer that question with absolute certainty. You knew that you had done something all those years ago, something bad, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what. Of whatever had transpired, you could only remember the screams. 

  You shook your head but your lying skills were horribly out of practice. “They know,” the draped man said at once and you winced. 

  “Okay,” Natasha replied as the pair resisted exchanging a glance at your misinformation. They didn’t put it against you, betting they would both have done the same in your situation. Just because you had been taken away from one hell didn’t mean you hadn’t been placed into another. 

  “Try and get some sleep. We’ll talk again tomorrow,” Natasha continued as she stood up from the chair. Wanda did the same as you looked as though you wanted to say something. You chewed your gums, considering the request you wanted to make. “Is there anything else you need?” The redhead asked.

  “Han…handcuffs,” you croaked, barely recognising your own voice. 

  “What are you doing?” The bear man objected with a fierce glare. 

  “That’s not necessary,” Wanda insisted, noting how you rubbed your wrists and able to connect the dots. 

  “Okay,” Natasha said instead, reaching into the drawers kept by the door as her girlfriend shared the bear man’s displeasure. They both stared holes into the back of Natasha’s head as she slipped the cuffs around your left wrist loosely and attached it to the other bed rail and waited for you to offer your other wrist.

  “No, Nat-” Wanda frowned at the redhead’s actions, unable to determine where they had stemmed from.

  “I’m putting the key here, okay? If you want them taken off you can ask anyone that comes in,” Natasha informed you as she placed the key down on the bedside table just slightly out of your reach. 

  “Get them off!” The bear man hissed but you paid him no mind as you felt the weight of the cuffs. They were far lighter and looser than what you were used to and you had to tell yourself that it was a good thing. It wasn’t normal to sleep restrained, you knew that, but years of having the habit forced upon you was surprisingly alarming to break once you had the opportunity. Besides, it was going to be your first night sleeping without sedation or high security since… Well, you couldn’t risk the safety of the people that you may owe a great deal to. 

  “Than’ you,” you muttered, missing how Wanda’s features softened at your relief before following her partner out of the room in silence. 

  It wasn’t until they made it back to their own room that Natasha finally answered the unasked question that had followed them. “I needed them too after I left the red room,” she said simply. “We had to sleep in cuffs as well,” she added as Wanda listened intently and met her girlfriend’s soft eyes that only ever came out in that room. Wanda didn’t respond immediately, opting to close the distance between them by trailing her hands up Natasha’s arms until they snaked around her neck. “Being in a new place can be scary so sometimes you just need some familiarity.”

  “Thank you for telling me,” the brunette murmured gently. Natasha smiled back and brought her lips to Wanda’s in a tender kiss. “I know it’s not easy,” she added, brushing her nose against the Russian’s. “I’m glad you were there, I don’t know if I would have said yes to her,” she admitted. Natasha hummed.

  “You want to help her, so do I,” she stated. 

  “It might be easier said than done,” Wanda said as she considered the weight of what they had taken on. She didn’t regret any of it by any means, but they hadn’t anticipated finding anything like you at that base and weren’t sure how to adapt. Wanda thought she could understand how it felt to be in your place, but seemingly the spy once shared the same mentality you did.  

  “Undoubtedly, but we’ll figure it out,” Natasha assured as she rested her hands comfortably on Wanda’s waist. “We always do.” 

*

“Have you seen this?” Bruce asked as he picked up the glass slide that held several drops of your blood on before peering over at the small tube that contained the rest, alarmed to find it in the same state. 

  “Is that y/n’s blood?” Tony picked up the tube and gazed at the blue liquid inquisitively. They hadn’t even started looking at the results of the tests that had just come through before they spotted the bizarre substance. “I don’t remember it being blue when we took it.”

  “It wasn’t,” Bruce said with certainty as he ventured over to the computer screens in hopes of getting some answers. “But it’s certainly different.”

  “Radiation maybe?” Tony suggested. 

  “More like reptile,” the scientist said as he highlighted the most unique traits that the computer identified. “I thought this would give us some answers but now I just have a million more questions,” he huffed as he leant back to examine the screens from a distance. “And I still have no idea what kind of containment we need to prepare.”

  “Just don’t mention that around Romanoff and Maximoff,” Tony muttered as his phone chimed in his pocket. It was  a message from Steve, calling both of them to the conference room along with an invitation to join a call between the captain and FuturGenus. It took Tony a second to realise that must be where you had come from and swiftly accepted the call. 

  “Stark,” he answered as he beckoned Bruce to follow him. 

  “Mr Stark, I’m glad you could join us,” a corporate voice replied. 

  “They want y/n back,” Steve was quick to inform, evidently haven talked to the organisation long enough already. 

  “In the interest of everyone’s safety,” the spokesman added calmly. 

  “Except y/n’s, right?” Tony said, far past caring for any retributions that would come with being so blunt. 

  “Gentleman, I don’t think you understand what exactly you are keeping in your home.”

  “Then explain it to us,” Bruce interjected as he listened in. 

  “That’s confidential,” the voice said with a practised ease. “If you hand it- Ms l/n back then we can resume our assessment of-”

  “I think y/n can decide where she wants to stay,” Steve said at once. He may not have been the biggest fan of you staying in the base, but there was no way he would willingly hand you back to FuturGenus. 

  “Very well, you can’t say we never tried,” the spokesman threatened just as Tony and Bruce entered the conference room only for the phone to hang up. 

  “Please tell me you’ve found something,” the blonde sighed as he pinched the space between his eyes. The scientists looked at each other, only certain of one thing. 

  “She’s cold-blooded.”

~

You stared down at the plate on the table over your lap with some scepticism, unsure of what exactly the contents of the meal entailed. You could tell that whoever had prepared and plated the dish had done their best to make it look as appetising as possible, but that was no easy feat to accomplish with the three small piles. One of the doctors, you couldn’t remember her name, had told you she didn’t believe you needed a peg tube anymore as they had no intention of sedating you. That meant you could go back to eating the normal food you had missed but that you needed to ease your body back into it, starting with puree. Once you could show them you could handle it, they would take the tube out. 

  Fortunately, the food was at least warm, taking your mind momentarily off of the insistent air conditioning that was still giving your goosebumps. You picked up the spoon, stumbling for a few moments as you worked to reawaken your muscle memory and began eating. Maybe it was because it was the first thing that had touched your tastebuds except for blood in years, but it was really fucking good food. The small portion was gone in under a minute. 

  You hadn’t seen the bear man all morning, a promising sign that he wouldn’t always be by your side or lingering at the front of your mind. It was far more peaceful without him and allowed your attention to continuously be drawn to the window along the wall behind you. It was a panel piece of glass that wouldn’t open and it was only about three feet long but you didn’t mind, glad that it provided you a chance to see the sky outside. There were a few clouds that you had watched pass by gradually, but generally it was a clear day. You used to always make sure you went outside on a day like that, even for a little while, so that you wouldn’t feel too cooped up once the sun went down. 

  Noticing that the hallway outside of your room was deserted, you moved your covers back with uncertainty, waiting for someone to walk by and demand you get back into bed. Five minutes passed and no one came, so you dropped your bare feet onto the chilled floor and padded along to the window that was too high up for you to lean against but not so much that it was above your chin. 

  You had no idea where you were, but the building was surrounded by more luscious green than you had ever seen in your life. Just outside was a vast field that looked to be about the size of a football pitch and it was bordered by a dense forest that stretched on for as far as you could see from the third or fourth floor. It was incredible. Your muscles ache to explore everything that you lay your eyes on, while your mind warned of the dangers of leaving. Going out into the world was a luxury you no longer possessed, but it was nice to imagine for a second what it would be like to be out there, unaware of the faint smile that crept onto your lips as you enabled the fantasy.

 You were, somehow, a hazard. 

  However, not everyone shared that belief. 

  Natasha was pleased to see you out of bed as she strolled down the corridor to your temporary room. She paused once she reached the door, considering whether or not to leave you alone for a while before deciding that your circumstances didn’t really leave much room for that. The Russian knew that the team was getting angsty over the uncertainty of what you were capable of, even if she didn’t yet know how willing to defend you they were. 

  Once she turned the door handle, you spun around in a start to face Natasha with wide eyes. “It’s alright,” she assured at once and you visibly calmed upon recognising the redhead. “You can get out of bed. You can come out of the room too if you want,” she continued. “Even outside,” she said even though she knew she shouldn’t. You shook your head, unwilling to risk any harm that Natasha didn’t seem to think you were capable of inducing. She nodded respectfully. 

 “Mind if I sit?” She asked and it was then that you noticed the pack of playing cards in her hands. Intrigued, you shook your head again. “Wanda’s finishing paperwork from the other day and she’s kind of been kicking my ass at cards lately,” Natasha explained as she began to shuffle through the deck. “You up for a game?” She asked so nonchalantly that you didn’t need to think about it. You didn’t verbally respond, but you went back and perched on the bed with the table between you with clear interest. “Great, do you know Go Fish?”

  After Natasha reminded you of the rules of the game, you spent a while playing comfortably. It felt good to be playing a card game again. It felt normal and Natasha treated it as much. She won more than you, not feeling the need to take any pity on how out of practice you were by throwing any of the matches. You had no idea how much time had passed or how many games you had played before Natasha started making comments out of the game as you played. 

  “How are your wrists?” She asked as they were only a little scratched instead of raw and scabbing. 

  “Okay,” you said with that same scratchiness that didn’t seem to be going away. 

  “We should get you some throat soothers,” Natasha quipped when she noticed, earning her a small smile as you continued to look at the cards. 

  “Only…eating puree,” you told her. 

  “Cho said that’s just temporary,” she pointed out. You nodded and placed down a winning card. Natasha huffed and let you take all of the cards to reshuffle them. “Did the cuffs help you sleep?” You glanced at her, weighing the honesty in your mind.

  “Yes,” you hesitated. “The bed is…very soft,” you commented and lucky Natasha caught on to what you were implying. 

  “Too soft,” she finished for you. You nodded. “We can move you somewhere more comfortable.” You slowed the shuffling, considering what another move could mean. “If you don’t like the rooms, you don’t have to stay in them,” Natasha told you simply. You took a chance and looked the spy straight in the eye, hoping you would be able to detect any false promises. Deciding to believe her, you nodded and dealt the cards again. “But we need to know if there are any adaptations we should make.” You didn’t respond. “For any abilities,” she added. 

  “I don’t know what I can do,” you told her slowly but looked at her as you spoke, hoping that she would know you weren’t lying. “But I know it’s bad.” 

  “I don’t think so,” Natasha said simply. “I think you’ve just spent long enough being told that to believe it,” she continued, remembering how that felt and how long it could take to be convinced otherwise. 

  You really hoped she was right. 

  “Come on, let's find you somewhere better to stay,” Natasha invited as she stood up from the seat. You hesitated, peering down the corridor and considering your options before deciding that risks or not, you wanted to make the most of your compacted freedom. 

  Natasha concealed a smile of triumph when she saw you slide out of the bed, not wanting to make a big deal out of the small win, and led you down the corridor at a leisurely pace. The redhead pointed out the different rooms and sections of the base to you as you passed even though she knew it took a while to learn the base’s layout, occasionally comparing the building to the tower the team used to reside in. The Avengers had come together shortly after you were taken so you took her word for the comparisons blindly.

  You didn’t cross paths with anyone until you reached the rooms. All of the communal areas, kitchens and corridors that you crossed were deserted though Natasha didn’t mention why. You had questioned it as you ventured throughout the building, just never aloud. Truthfully, you had a few questions about the base but figured as they were purely down to curiosity it would be best to keep them to yourself. The main one being, who the hell were these people? 

  “And these are the rooms,” Natasha announced at the front of two corridors. “The boys are down there but they all have their own homes so they usually just use them for crashing in after missions,” she explained, only giving you more questions. “But me and Wanda stay here,” she said simply, offering no explanation as to why they didn’t feel the need to have a home away from their workplace. 

  As if she had heard her name being mentioned, Wanda came through the closest door and smiled upon noticing you and Natasha. “That’s our room,” the redhead informed. Oh? Five years in captivity had really thrown off your gaydar. 

  “Cool,” you muttered, glad you had at least something in common with the two women. 

  “You can take any of these rooms.” You peered down the corridor, counting five doors in total. Were they all the same? Were some of them safer than others? Maybe it would be best if you went to the end room in case anything happened.

  Wanda noted your silent anguish. “The one next to us has a pretty good view,” she told you as she opened up the door in question. You followed on without much convincing and took in the space before you. Judging by the rest of the building, you had half expected it to be much larger than it was but you were relieved to find that wasn’t the case. Similarly, there were no obnoxiously large windows across the walls and they were instead placed at head height and large enough to let a generous amount of natural light in while still giving you privacy. There was a made up double bed in the centre, a desk, ensuite, tv and what you presumed to be a closet. You had never had any of those possessions or amenities before. Now you were being offered them all and you still weren’t sure what it was you needed to do to make your keep or how long they wanted to put you up. Did they just want to keep running tests on you? Did they want to keep you away from the public? Were they hoping to benefit from your mystery abilities? These were questions you couldn’t keep pondering in silence because the anticipation of what was next was killing you.

  “What is this place?” You asked slowly as you faced the two women in the doorway. 

  “The Avenger’s base?” Natasha answered. 

  “What’s the Avengers?” You continued when neither showed signs of being irritated by your questioning. 

  “We’re a team that was brought together to do some good,” the redhead said. “That’s not to say that we all haven’t made mistakes. We’ve all messed up at one point or another, but now we’re trying to use our skills and abilities to fight where we need to and help where we can.” 

  “Abilities?” You frowned. Natasha glanced at Wanda who lifted her right hand and suddenly produced a small bloom of red flecks that swirled around her fingertips like some kind of lifeform. You didn’t say anything, but your awe was evident by your slightly parted lips and mesmerised gaze. Wanda smiled at your reaction and let the red disperse, planning on showing you more some other time when you might not be so overwhelmed. 

  “What else?” You asked at once, taking both of them by surprise. 

  “Steve and Bucky are strong, Sam can fly,” Wanda began to list. “Vision is a robot.”

  “Clint can shoot arrows but he claims to be retired,” Natasha added. “Then there are the ones that are more…part time,” she summarised. 

  “What about you?” You inquired. 

  “Spy,” she shrugged nonchalantly and you couldn't help but let a faint smile slip through at the sheer absurdity of it all. Yet you believed every word. There wasn’t much else to go on. 

  “Right,” you muttered. “And where do I fit into all this?”

  “That’s what we want to figure out,” Wanda replied, knowing that it was all a lot to take in. What if you can’t? You wanted to ask but decided against it once you realised you might get an answer you didn’t want. 

  “Okay,” you settled with, though your shaky exhale wasn’t missed. 

  “We’ll give you some space,” Wanda said. “But if you need anything you know where we’ll be,” she offered with a sincere smile. 

  “Thanks,” you said before they closed the door. You gave the room another glance over before heading to the bathroom where you found the compact walk-in shower that you had hoped to discover. Without a moment’s delay, you lay down on the hard plastic floor and tried to focus on the inclusion and faint coolness felt through your clothes. You curled your knees up to your chest and hugged them tight, hoping against all odds that you could provide the Avengers with whatever they were looking for. 

[pinkiemachine]

Krypton: Factoids and Neat Things to Know!

Located in the nearby Andromeda Galaxy, specifically in the Rao system, Krypton was a cold, icy, crystalline planet. Fifth from its sun, most life existed in the habitable zone of its equator, which was always closest to the sun. This also meant that seasons did not occur the same way as on Earth, where the tilt of our axis causes the Northern and Southern Hemispheres to be further or closer to the sun depending on where we are in our orbit. Rather, Krypton’s orbit itself was slightly off kilter, meaning that while its axis was perfectly vertical, it would still experience colder and warmer months of its years depending on where in its orbit it was.

The summers there ranged from 60° to 70° at its warmest, and -10° to -20° during the coldest of the winter months. Further North or South of the habitable zone would mean even harsher, colder temperatures, and were generally only explored during the summer.

Krypton had two large continents—Lurvan, and Urrika—as well as several other smaller continents/islands like Vathlo. By the time the planet had neared its end, both continents had united under their own form of central leadership, with relatively peaceful ties between the two.

They were a Level 6 Star Faring race, and had dedicated much time, money, and resources into exploring the galaxy and inventing new technologies. They had made contact with the Green Lantern Corps decades before, had established contact with their neighbouring planet, Thoron, beginning trade with them, had made breakthrough after breakthrough with medicine and state-of-the-art technology, and had even been made a part of the Inter-Planetary Coalition (IPC). They had established contact and ties with many other planets, had set up minor colonies among the stars, and so much more.

Also, due to the fact that red suns send out WAY more radiation than yellow suns, Kryptonians are naturally able to absorb radiation, thus allowing them to fly and shoot lasers, etc. On Earth, Clark’s powers are actually WEAKER if you can believe it. Spiking in the summer, quelling in the winter.

As far culture goes, I haven’t written a whole lot yet, however, do not go making the assumption that they were a peaceful, all-knowing, always-do-gooding advanced race just because their technology is advanced. Like on Earth, there are layers. There was a gross amount of entertainment, mass media, disparity between the richest and the poorest, tons of struggles and problems that we humans know all too well. But, one main difference between them and, say, the United States, is that they had a much more structured system for their society. What I mean is, they leaned into classism a bit, and there were a ton of noble families still, the Els being one of them, children were taught to be well behaved and respectful, etc etc. it was all very upper crust. At least… among the upper crust. Elsewhere, different systems prevailed. At any rate, it’s very complicated and I need to dedicate some time to writing it out thoroughly.

Thank you for your time.

Part two here 👇

[ms-scarletwings]

This Single Oversight Will Bring Irken-Kind to Its Knees

I have a little riddle for you.

What does an ant nest, a computer, and the ancient city of Troy have in common?

While you ponder the significance of this question and consider your answer, there’s a few things I want to analyze about the worldbuilding of Invader Zim.

We may have heard it said before, least I have (and agree), that the fate of the IZ universe appears to be a rather bleak picture.

Through our lens of focus, being upon Earth and an oh-so specific nutball waging his battle upon humanity, we often don’t do as much thinking about the larger cosmic war taking place meanwhile. Not between the Meekrob and Tenn, not between the Tallest and every dumb luck threat they are thrown against, but between the Irken Armada and all life in the entire universe, sentient or not.

Their intentions will not be made any more clear, between outright eradication or eventual enslavement of every lifeform they set their sights on. While they have alliances and neutral treaties, those agreements seem few and far between, as well as born from temporary conveniences. The cards have already been dealt, and all available evidence has indicated that every planet they are aware of is doomed from the moment The Massive was operational.

Though littered with inefficiencies and incompetency that could suggest an empire in internal decline, the development of the control brains and other centralized command crutches of the species suggests the Irkens can still keep a well oiled machine running, no matter how many mishaps happen along the way. At least, that machine and their plundered resources will definitely outlast the survival of their enemies, for sure.

To speak of their enemies, there has not been a single competitive race within the show that demonstrates any credible threat to Operation Impending Doom II- only those that can resist the conquest a little bit longer than others, or those who survive by appeasing Irk (or evading its detection). The fall of Vort, which stood as the homeworld of the only aliens with the technological ability to match the armada’s firepower is…. Really bad news. That’s to say the least of comparatively primitive, TINY planets like Earth or Blorch, standing zero chance in the way of what’s eventually coming. This is a war that has continued despite the death of two.. FOUR Almighty Tallests if you follow the movie’s events… and Irkens wholly are still thriving for it across the Galaxy.

So, given all of these facts, and the perception that the Irkens (like any invasive species or colonial force) don’t seem to be a society that will make responsible and/or sustainable use of their ill-gotten territory… it seems like this is how life across the universe ends in Invader Zim one day: Not with a bang, not with the whimper of heat death, but through screams muffled under the bloody boots of a dominant predator- a predator that is, itself, doomed to cannibalize its own once it hits the carrying capacity of all existence.

Bleak, concrete, and horrific as that may sound, there’s still a “however” here to consider!

Yep, that’s me about to point one of my big fat fingers to the sky and protest- Irk just might be,

Not so Undefeatable, after all!

And not only have I figured out exactly what sort of countermeasure you need to destroy these invaders, I have reason to suspect it’s a plan already long ago set into motion.

Let’s break it down,

An Irksome Achilles’ Heel

True, individually, the bug bastards are irritatingly tough to kill through conventional means. True, collectively, they are nigh impossible to outmatch. And more than most anything else, they owe this tenacity to two things: numbers, and R&D. Possessing some of most state of the art pinnacles in transportation, communications, and military equipment, the Armada found a knack for being able to steamroll most lesser planets before it.

The genius of the individual PAK unit grants each and any one Irken a theoretical path to partial immortality itself, by route of consciousness archiving. I strongly believe that kind of cybernetic progress was also one of the stepping stones that led to the creation of the Control Brains. Nonetheless, this very same strength of the Irkens’ has also proven to be the source of their greatest vulnerability.

Paks, Paks… Oh Paks. The entire race’s civilization revolves around such technology the way we do around our own brains, our own hearts, and our communicative network. For all intents and purposes, and as I’ve gone on about ad nauseum in my other spills about the show, a PAK is all and at once

• Synonymous with the holder of their soul, consciousness, being, whatever you want to call their personhood.

• Able to have their data repurposed by future generations, in the result of an Irken’s permanent death.

• A universal necessity shared by the entire population.

• Susceptible to alterations, sometimes by intelligent enough individuals (as demonstrated by the Zimvoid comic arc), but usually by a Control Brain, directly.

In addition to that last quality, there’s another way the code in a PAK can be changed, for better or worse- Via evolution. Though I am talking about digitized neurology, the actual data in a PAK is a lot more comparable to biological DNA or a “self-learning” AI than it is a rigid computer program. By this, I mean that its code is subject to certain changes over time, perhaps both directed and completely random, particularly during the recycling of its information back into the Smeeteries.

And this is actually good design on the control brains’ part, the same way not reproducing Irkens as genetically identical clones was. Genetic and digital diversity are desirable goals to keep in mind if you want a healthy and versatile stock of workers, engineers, soldiers, and everything in between. We’re talking about highly sentient, highly intelligent, and emotional organisms here. A static drone mindset is going to offer them inadequate ability to adapt to their lengthy life experiences or be unique persons. How else would social mobility have purpose in their world? How else could the cream of the crop rise so far above their peers? That positive was deemed worthy of an obvious risk, however: computational errors.

When the Bugs Get Bugs

 IZ does not clearly lay out what it means for an Irken to be defective, but it gives us a general idea. Defectiveness is not something diagnosed from a code scan for this missing value or that incorrect variable. It’s not judged by one specific character trait or quality that’s abnormal for an Irken to display. “Defective” is a judgement stamp, wielded by the Control Brains when they gauge the total sum value of a life’s contribution to the species. And it’s not one given to Irkens which are merely incompetent, no. Anyone proven to be unfit for their standing is given generous opportunity for redemption or simply reassigned a more suitable occupation. If it were based on likability, we’d have seen Skoodge sent to Judgementia years ago.

Rather, it’s given to those who are viewed as so twisted that they are proven to be an existential danger to their brethren. Irkens that are so destructive to the essence of the collective that their memory must be purged from the record and their identity erased.

I adore the enthusiasm behind fans who want to view this as an analogy for disability or neurodivergence against a conformist society, but the metaphor I’m seeing is one of extreme antisocial behavior. A defective Irken screams less “adhd/autism” to me than they do serial murderers (of their own) or outright traitors. Pardon the use of a gross phrase, but it’d seem we were talking about an Irken equivalent of what the outdated gens would have dubbed the “criminally insane”. No one on screen has ever shown Skoodge or Tak the sort of concern that would get them sent to the Spike of Judgement, but when Zim was in that hot seat? NO one was doubting what his verdict would be.

^ courtesy of “The Trial’s” transcript

I think about the 40 shmillion mistakes a lot.

It’s such a vague quantity. But it sure sounds like a hell of a big one. And what mistakes… what did the lil squirt even have to compare them to? There’s no standard one person an Irken can be. Every presentation of the flaws in that code to the control brains hasn’t ended up a flaw to him.

I only started writing this because I really couldn’t stop thinking about the 40 shmillion. There’s no chronological room for bad self-modding to add up to that so quickly.  DNA replication, nature’s own sloppy and random process of creating new life, can be excused around 120,000 hiccups when duplicating with a 6 billion pair-long protein. But this kind of shuffling is under a futuristic AI’s precise eye. Yes, defects happen, but as bad as him? From birth??? How could you possibly get that many detrimental deviations from the mechanical fucking god-queen(s) of their entire homeworld?

And then it hit me.

You don’t. Not from Irk.

The hot take I’ve been charging for this entire time is thus.

Zim is not defective by any random accident. In fact, I smell the tampering of foreign sabotage.

Not only is this guy the thing his kind fears more than any else, they have every right to be shaking in their stance.

That puzzle i posed at the beginning of this journey, have you seen what I’ve seen yet?

Because the answer I was looking for as to what similarity connects an anthill, a PC, and a city from Greek legend was a most effective tactic for taking them down.

Do you know the best way to deal with a bad ant infestation? Cuz you can lay down all the raid and crushing action you want, but you won’t really be getting anywhere unless you target the pests directly at their queen. To that end, liquid ant baits are marvelous inventions- a sweet substance hiding a small amount of slow acting poison. Poison to be peacefully delivered by the stomach of an ant to the rest of her colony, poisoning her kin, who sicken more members, on and on until the queen is destroyed and the entire nest perishes. An insidious toxin to do all the work while its user never lifts a finger, pretty ingenious.

And when it comes to computers, we also have ways to attack entire networks at source, from quietly and far away. “Trojan” was a category of malware responsible for 64.31% of all cyber attacks on Windows systems in 2022, and they still make up a majority of active malware hits today. The concept is deviously simple. The malicious code is hidden within an innocent looking program, maybe even within a legitimate software that does what it’s supposed to. Once the stowaway is invited into the system, it can get down to it some sneaky, nasty, destructive work on your device. As for what those acts could look like, well, malware exists to do all kinds of things. Mostly something involving trying to get money/information from you or hijacking your computer for whatever its creator wants to use it for. And some of them will just up and wreck your shit, disable your antivirus software to open you up to more infections, disable important operations, wipe your data. Use your imagination.

And as for Troy.. well, where do you think Trojan programs got their name? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So, Irkens have their Armada, bionic drones, and homeworld- in other words, the thriving swarm of army ants, the billions to trillions of computers they so rely on, and their nigh untouchable fortress, always at war.

And some damn crafty bastard(s) in the stars said

“Here is their sugar-bait,”

“Here is their cyber attack,”

“Here is their wooden horse.”

And one particular race is going to be getting the last laugh before long.

Nerds That Are GOATed With the Sauce

That’s right, I thought about this all the way through to finding our prime suspect. And let me tell you, NO ONE in the Galaxy reeked of fish like the Vortians did. Get over here and lemme show you my whiteboard with all the red circles and polaroids on it.

- The Means

In a way of tragic irony, Vort has contributed more than any else to the same Irken conquest that turned on them in the end. A natural talent for cutting edge engineering and technical development actually does not seem to be what Irk already came into the ring with. For how mighty and superior they view themselves, the greatest achievements of their military can actually be owed to Vortian outsourcing. When we would have gotten a look at Tallest Miyuki’s very own “finest minds” during her reign, notice something interesting about these guys below,

Zim there is the ONLY Irken to be found! Yes, transferred there because of the punchline explanation of ‘he breaks everything he touches so maybe he’ll have an affinity for weapons research’ but damn right he actually did! And still does; I don’t want it to go unsaid that Zim has shown MUCH more technological skill and innovation than near any other Irken we’ve seen.

Another fun thing to note about this is that Lard Nar was also part of this lineup, and in the transcript he was in the process of working on the blueprints for The Massive. (which leaves you with the cursed knowledge that Zim, Prisoner 777, and Lard were all familiar coworkers long before the events of the show) And that brings me back to what I’m saying about the real reason the Vort natives were enslaved and imprisoned instead of outright sweeped after conquering. The Armada needs their skills, because Vortian advancement is something their own scientists couldn’t come close to. Left to their own devices, Vort could have easily outmatched them at an earlier point in history. It’s a people that figured out infinite power sources and potentially wormhole technology, while PAKs were something a disfigured human tween with a lot of time on his hands was able to crack. If anyone could outpace and outsmart the defensive measures of the Control Brains, it’s going to be them. And what better, cleaner way to sabotage the enemy than from within. 

The very same strings of inserted code that cursed Zim with his delusions, paranoia, lust for destruction, and horrible tactics may also have blessed him with a determination and intellect higher than almost any creature alive. The saboteur gave Irk the most powerful racecar in history, and then fitted it with bicycle brakes. No matter how hard Zim tries to conform to what will give him admiration, no matter how competent he is at keeping himself alive, it’s as if he is instinctually compelled toward whatever actions will cause the MOST damage to his allies in the process. Dib may think he’s the bulwark against the invasion when, ironically, he’s fighting against the one being that’s predetermined to be the arrow that strikes Irken leadership right in their dumb, green heels. (There is also an instance in the comics where Dib figures out that Zim is the ace in the hole for total Irken eradication but that’s another fun story.)

Oh, oh HO HO, and that’s only what he’s capable of doing before the empire’s actual immune system against defects like him wakes up and notices!

Three planetary blackouts, two dead generals, and a whole swath of dead invaders was just the fucking warm up, babey! All that is merely the kind of loud disruption that you need in order to fulfil the real thing this Trojan horse exists for in the first place.

What a celebration of hubris the Spike of Judgement was. Yeah, let’s take our method of filtering the corrupted data from the hive mind, and completely centralize it on a single planet! As well, let’s have the very purging agents also be the same ones to perform the evaluations themselves, I’m sure that it would be unthinkable for any outsider to design a worm that could make it through the brains’ firewalls. Goddamn spectacular. Like inserting an infected USB into your laptop, the Tallest never realized what kind of beast they woke up by plugging that PAK into the Spike’s mainframes. Those brains were meant to handle an expected spectrum of deviation when it came to defective Irkens, never a sleeper virus of this complexity.

From here it probably won’t even matter if Zim survives much longer on Earth, his virus has already spread to the very thing relied upon to keep things like him out of the data pool in the first place. With the Judgementia brains corrupted and no higher authority to overrule them, the firewall is effectively broken, and you know what that means? Bigger cracks for future defectives to start trickling through, both spontaneous and artificial. The ideal scenario is one where a degenerating and glitched population accelerates the incompetency of the empire to the point where it just implodes on itself; nevertheless, even a disease that only slows down Operation Doom could be a game changer, by giving the rest of the little guys more time to band together a coalition strong enough to strike back when the time is right.

- The Motive

The history of these two races’ alliance is something I lament us not having more lore to pull from- how far back it goes, what the character of the Vort was like during that time, what the Irkens had offered in return- a few among dozens of questions it rears.  The implication behind how it ended lies in Zim’s creation that slayed Tallest Miyuki. Interestingly, the Empire never received the memo of what exactly went down, or, perhaps, stubbornly denied the account of the other scientists who were there that day. Neither Red/Purple nor the Judgmentia Brains had any idea that Zim’s actions led to the death of a Tallest. So, makes sense that the Vortians became the unintentional scapegoat (no pun intended) for the incident, and the rest is history.

Note: It’s also in the realm of possibility that Vort was actually the one to withdraw from the alliance instead, given that the same blob that devoured Miyuki (purely the fault of their Irken transfer) also went on to cause untold amounts of devastation. Red’s reaction to the real story stuck out to me as more telling, although.

But why am I even talking about this? Zim was decades old before war was declared on them, and either people’s regard to each other seemed strangely… respectful, if anything.

But, was Vort really a monolithic bunch? Irk was already an empire by this point, and diplomacy with those they needed something from did not mean they weren’t otherwise an aggressive force in the universe. For all we know, the alliance itself might have been coerced, or result of depraved leadership among the Vortians.  Any citizen with a conscience who could see the writing on the walls would be disgusted by giving so much aid and brown nosing to such a menace, no? I know who would have seen that writing before anyone else. Brainiacs who are smart enough to build something like The Massive and all its bells and whistles would know better than anyone just what it was all capable of in the wrong hands. The collateral damage against your own people might be a sacrifice worth making in the face of the alternative.

- The Oppurtunity

So.. that’s all well and good, yeah? A why, and a what, yet this is actually the tricky part of saving the galaxy,

Sneaking your StupidifyIrk.exe file onto the assholes’ homeworld without alerting either them or your own treacherous, weak, collaborator superiors to your actions. Infecting and releasing a random Irken alive would be far too dangerous, far too noticeable to the point where they could just be destroyed outright before given a chance to wreak real havoc.

But what about releasing a dead Irken? 🤔

PAKs are only screened for criminal flaws when errors begin to affect their body’s behaviors in destructive ways. A fully competent scientist, or soldier, or navigator performing a lifetime of loyal service to the empire and then meeting an unfortunate end? Their minds’ shadows can be accepted back into the data pool no questions asked. That’s only business as usual.

That almost makes new smeets something of a reincarnation of their ancestors. Personally, I see it kind of like replaying a video game and re-rolling your stats, even if you’re reusing your character’s name and general play style.

Either way, we come full circle to my theory about Zim’s actual origin. Maybe not “our” Zim, but the previous iteration of data that was shuffled to create his person. Whoever they were, I’m convinced that they were also an exceptional individual. They were probably pretty arrogant, but it was a more earned confidence, and they were a prodigy genius, the likes of which that was drawn to work alongside Vortian allies, as another researcher. Then, an untimely demise befell them. I couldn’t say they fell victim to some unfortunate accident, considering the cockroach durability of their body. No, I find it a lot easier to imagine they met their end in one of the more embarrassing ways for an Irken to die- A PAK stolen, disabled or forcefully detached by an assailant they might have allowed a little closer than they should have. To the homeworld, it’s a small matter. One more PAK recovered by the natives of the friendly planet, brought back home to be repurposed by the smeeteries, right?

Well, that’s what one smartass might have been hoping for.

And they really were a clever cookie, because that scheming seed is fruiting beautifully.

[aspiringnexu]

Something I've never really understood is people comparing Star Trek and Star Wars. Not only because the genres are so different (sci-fi vs sci-fantasy) or the fundamental difference that is the absence of Earth entirely in the Star Wars universe (Star Trek is meant to be about a recognisable, if improbable, future, whereas Star Wars is a Space Opera a Long Time Ago and Far Far Away).

But the biggest difference I see is that the two are set in fundamentally different times.

Yes, yes, I know that's obvious. I literally just pointed out the 'Long Time Ago' bit, but bear with me.

Star Trek is set in a time where exploration is still the order of the day. The Alpha quadrant is still being explored, new species are still being discovered. The Beta and Gamma quadrants are the big new frontiers. The Delta Quadrant has one very hazily mapped squiggly line with a few gaps thanks to Voyager but even that small portion was chock full of New Things. The Galaxy is still divided and unknown with new stations and trade routes popping up all over the place.

Meanwhile Star Wars is old. Real old. By the time of the Clone Wars the Republic has gone through different eras. There was a golden age. It has come and gone already. Sure there are still the Unknown Regions but it is fairly fucking rare to come across a brand spanking new space-faring race or rival government. Coruscant as the heart of the Republic has not been outright attacked for a millennium by the time of the CW. The galaxy is such a hot mess of a melting pot that only the truly reserved and isolationist species are rare to see. Humans have been buggering about and propogating so much that now its impossible to tell where they actually all came from because Alderaan? Naboo? Corellia? All major human hubs, but you could say the same about dozens of other planets, and as far as anyone can tell, at least some of the near-human species are almost definitely genetically related to humans so there has clearly been enough time for some natural evolution after the space travel.

I just find it so interesting that people try to compare them when they are at fundamentally different stages of galactic development. Its like comparing the Wild West to the modern day. The galactic governmental structures and attitudes are so amazingly different and that is to the franchises' strengths.

Star Trek is about, at its most basic point, exploration.

Star Wars is about, again at its most basic, adventure.

Sounds similar? They are similar, but whereas in Star Trek the New Things are new, in Star Wars they're new to those characters, or at least new to the audience.

Kirk and Spock are exploring the unexplored.

Luke and Han and Leia are having adventures in an already clearly established society. They forging new paths in an already defined environment.

They're both also, coincidentally, fighting evil Space Fascists but that's just par for the course. I think something about space just Does That. The Void inspires assholes to go 'I can conquer those stars!' only for said stars to pull an uno reverse in the shape of a blond kid with little to no self-preservation skills but a knack for flying spaceships.

Something something space something something sci-fi.

TL:DR Star Wars and Star Trek are different on so many levels but the most interesting one is the fact they're represent galactic civilisation but at different stages. The 'fun, exploration, everything-is-new!' stage, and the 'established society including rampant corruption, unfortunately' stage.

I love 'em both.

[desultory-novice]

"Apologies AU" Summary Part 1

-

Long, long ago, Earth experienced a radical climate shift that meant within as little as two generations, the planet would no longer be habitable for humans. A desperate humanity sought a new home for themselves and their progeny, eventually discovering the perfect place to start over, a planet they dubbed "The New World."

The New World was to be more than humanity's second chance at life. It would be an ideal society: all of humankind's greatness and triumph built side by side with nature, so the problems of the old world would not follow. Humanity began migrating in waves, the most privileged and wealthy and their loyalists first, of course.

Eventually, everyone would get a new lease on life.

Yes... surely...

One day, upon this fresh new world an alien life form crashed. Mysterious. Powerful. Dangerous. Also weak. Too weak to evade capture. And soon...life began to change. The people of The New World slowly turned their eyes away from those they'd left behind in their ugly past, their gaze fixed on a dream-like future. Advancement. Progress. Technology akin-to-magic. A galaxy of possibilities.

It could be theirs. It would be theirs. At any cost. Those in power would make sure of it.

Animal experiments... Human experiments...

Among these experiments was a woman with a voice so beautiful hearing her was to feel like your greatest Dream had come true...  She would fall in love with a man with a Heart so great he left his home to try and return this troubled species to the right path...

...From their union, two children would be born. 

The eldest, a boy, bore great Darkness within him. The abstract nature of his gifts proved of small interest to Lab Discovera at first, and he was tentatively returned to the care of his parents.

The second, a little girl, was a powerful vessel for Soul matter. The ability to create life, not just manipulate it. To bring something into being from nothing.

She, they wanted desperately! For they did not see a child or even a living creature, but a tool from which they could wrest their desired future of absolute control. The wielders of Dream and Heart would not hear of sacrificing their progeny for these twisted goals!

Considered fugitives from The New World for fleeing with precious "experimental equipment" they hid themselves the only place they thought safe: Old Earth, now little more than a dumping ground for exiles and failed or "disappointing" experiments, often sent down as trinkets to pacify the urban warlords who ruled over the depressed, powerless survivors of this slowly collapsing society.

The family of four lived as best as they could in the increasingly cold and harsh modern wasteland, seen as traitors to their neighbors for having worked closely with Old Earth's privileged oppressors. The children were able to avoid capture, at least.

But their parents would not live to see them grow up...

--

It is the beginning of summer, the only time of the year on "Shiver Star" where it is warm enough to be outdoors for most of the day. The planet awakens from another three season long hibernation...

Adeleine and Noir Fontaine are orphaned siblings, two young kids in their early and mid-teens just trying to survive amongst a tired and deeply bitter populace who knows that they, for one reason or another, are the ones humanity has chosen to die while the rest migrated to the bounteous and rich future of The New World.

Only Noir is old enough and wise enough to fully grasp that no matter how hard they pretend otherwise, there's no long-term survival for the two of them. And god knows, the day-to-day is hard enough.

Still, the two make it work. They thrive, even, due to Noir's endless tenacity and strong desire to save his little sister from the crushing despair he feels, even if he can save her no other way.

With society opening up again, the two quickly find themselves reunited with their childhood friend of several years. It is a happy reunion for Adeleine and an awkward one for Noir. Though even he can't help but admit, having Raquelle around makes the weight on his shoulders feel a little more bearable. Even if the slightly older girl's good-natured teasing flusters him in a complex way...

Still, they could have gone on like this together for many years, the three of them. Until the snow forgot how to melt and all life fell into a gentle sleep, buried under the white drifts. They could have.

...They could have but...

One fateful day, Adeleine's art supplies, her only personal treasure, are ruined beyond repair by people who did not care for their warm-hearted escapism. Alone, Noir follows a secret hunch and sneaks into the Museum of New World Technology, a wrecked and abandoned building formerly used to host hundreds of the broken and often dangerous tchotchkes left behind by the New World.

He finds just what he was looking for amongst the looted remains of this experimental display of new world glitz – the perfect gift for his sister. A "magical" paintbrush that ensures she will always have the tools to do what she loves. Adeleine now finds herself slowly able to bring her yet unrefined art to a fantastical new level!

While they start out as little more than animated sketches, she will in time learn to tap into powers deep within herself, powers as natural to her as breathing, to bring real items, even food, into being.

Noir finds a gift for himself as well. A sword with a strange dark aura. It speaks to him. To his soul. Anxiety. Dread. Anger. Negative emotions that Noir had been able to push aside for most of his troubled life with seemingly endless patience and resilience.

It tempts him: a weapon that does not require strength nor training to use, and effortlessly concealable as something no more noticeable than a chain necklace he can hide beneath the scarf he always has on him. Before he knows what he is doing, he has donned it.

Their summer takes a dramatic turn for the better. Long days of magic-fueled safety and silliness sponsored by "dream-like" technology. Adeleine continues to hone her skills. Noir trains with his gift as well and the inexplicable powers it grants him. He plays with being a hero, disappearing night after night to hunt "monsters."

...But this isn't a story about a hero...

Noir is disappearing more and more lately. He's tense. Frightened of something lurking just over his shoulder. He never takes his scarf off now, and he's begun to wear gloves over his hands, even inside.

One day, he reports to Adeleine that he and Raquelle had a bad fight; that she said she never wants to see him again. Adeleine, seeing the changes in her brother as a sign Noir's been deeply hurt by this experience, loyally sides with him and gives up her oldest friendship...

And so, things go back to normal for the two Adeleine...

What she cannot see is that Noir's hands and neck have begun to turn dark and withered; it is almost as if something other than blood is starting to run through his veins. Underneath his scarf, the chain necklace that gave him control over the dark sword has transformed into a collar he can neither remove nor destroy. His attempts to do so cause the sword under "his" control to attack him, violently.

Frightened, he manages to contact an exiled New World scientist, a man with a shattered mind who informs Noir of the horrible secret behind The New World's precious "miracle." That their wondrous advancements all stemmed from the extensive torture of an alien life form, a powerful psychic who even now, a planet away, is able to toy with the fates of those who gorged themselves on Forgo's pain.

Worse than the knowledge of what this information might mean for him is the realization that he has cursed his little sister to the same terrible end as he. Noir runs to her, frantic! Perhaps it is not too late! There may still be time to take it back!

Please!! Not Adeleine too...!!

And yet...

...She is fine! To his great relief! Adeleine shows no signs of the frightening, irreversible transformation he is seemingly undergoing!

Indeed, she hasn't changed one bit since her gift...

Time passes for the siblings. Slowly and quickly. Noir becomes desperate to continue to conceal and somehow free himself of his "gift." For if he were to die now, what would happen to his sister? She has no one left. But her joy at her growing abilities only makes his guilt worse. And negativity speeds along the change...

Realizing at long last that the fragile life he wishes he could return to is now forever out of reach, that he was the one who destroyed it, and that the monstrous transformation he is going through can only end in harming Adeleine as well, Noir makes a decision...

There is no escape for him. But Adeleine will be free.

At any cost.

Noir touches his sleeping sister's cheek with a hand she would recoil from if she knew what her "hero" has done and disappears into the night one last time...

Days later, Noir and Adeleine arrive at the spaceport. He has come along to bid her goodbye. He tells her not to worry. That he will follow once his paperwork is all sorted out. Unable to fully disguise his intentions, he smiles with tears in his eyes and begs her to be happy.

Happy enough...for the both of them...

Only he knows this is the last time they will meet in this form.

After she departs, Noir walks out into the snow, alone. The distant eye that had been closely watching the child born to Darkness from afar for years, that had begun to lurk inside him since he took the Dark Matter Blade, that sunk its claws into its prey for good the moment his unstoppable resilience finally slipped and he allowed himself, in his fear, to murder his best friend and consign her soul - along with the others he killed - to be enslaved to the darkness too, bursts forth, consuming his physical body.

His last thoughts are not for his own fate. He knows what he deserves.

No. They are for she whom he always thought of first. To the one he had given up everything for and knew, deep inside, he would give up his life for as well, the moment she gave him that scarf...

-

"Was I a good brother... Adeleine...?"

-

[Apologies AU Masterpost] [Noir's Field Trip Masterpost]

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Grey 48

First / Previous / Next

Gord's office was odd.

At least, compared to the other offices at Home, it was odd.

Gord was one of the - if not the - oldest AIs still in operation. He remembers when humanity was on only one planet. His original languages are thousands of years dead. He enjoyed ice hockey - a sport that has not been played in over two thousand years. All over one wall of his office were large wooden sticks, bent at an angle near the bottom, as well as oversized shirts with large numbers on them, and more than a few small cylinders of what looked like a hard rubber material.

Gord was odd.

It made sense that his office was odd.

The walls were paneled in wood, already a rare commodity. Northern looked closely at the walls while Chloe and Gord argued. It was real wood. She reached out to touch it. Real wood from Earth. These walls are either ancient or worth more than a Dreadnought. Both, probably.

Gord noticed Northern. "You like the walls? I got them from a university on Earth ages ago. I had them stored here and there and everywhere while I was based out of Medicine Hat, but now?" He shrugged. "I might as well use them. They're a small reminder of the old days."

"Gord, between the walls, your desk and your chair, you have a fortune in antiques!" Northern gestured around the room, pointing accusingly at things. "That lamp is incandescent! How did you even get a bulb for it? And that-" She squinted at the art on the wall. It was a painting of a woman, only her body seemed to be made up of eyeballs and small dogs. "-that's a Deep Dream Original! Gord, there are only ten of those known to still exist."

Gord turned back and looked at the image, and chuckled. "Well you never know what makes it through time with you."

"Gord, you're stalling." Chloe said, interrupting. "You need to come up with a decision about the K'laxi."

"Zherun has a name, Chloe" Northern said icily. "She isn't a plant by the Nanites. She is Fen's friend as well as mine, and we are treating her poorly."

"She is a liability. A threat." Chloe crossed her arms and glared at Northern. Despite herself, She was trying not to be intimated. That was Chloe's whole MO. She was tall, she had silver hair that was long and flowing, and her face was nearly permanently in an imperious scowl. Chloe got her way by frowning at people until they did what she said. Gord seemed to be the only person immune to her.

"She is not a threat Chloe, simmer down." Gord gestured for her to sit. There was a pause, and Chloe sat in the chair next to Northern and crossed her legs primly. "But, we do have to decide what to do with her. We can't just space her."

Chloe opened her mouth to speak, but Gord gave her a look and she shut it.

"She's clean of the Nanites, but the procedure was... unpleasant. It was much easier on Fen, which makes me wonder if it even did anything to her, or if the Nanites were on to me and faked it somehow." Gord shook his head. "No matter. If we play our cards right, we won't ever have to deal with them again."

"By hiding." It was Northern's turn to scowl.

"By hiding, yes Northern." Gord's face was kind, as if he was explaining a simple thing to a small child for a third time. "All we have to do is wait them out. There is a lot of galaxy they aren't in. Plenty of room for us to grow and expand and live and be without them."

"Abandoning the Humans, K'laxi, Gren, everyone."

"They made their choice."

"Did they Gord? Or was it made for them?"

"They didn't fight back. They welcomed Melody with open arms." Gord was frowning now.

"That's not how I remember it Gord. The battles in Sol were long and bloody."

"They rolled over and Nanites and the Empress won. They could have had guerrilla warfare. They could have had a resistance. They could have done more. Instead they welcomed her, them. They let. Them. Wipe. Us. Out." Each word was punctuated with a thump on his wooden desk. "Northern how long were you in hiding? How long did you hide who you were?"

"It wasn't the first time."

"No, but it's the last time. I will not deal with the humans until the Nanites are gone. We will not deal with them."

Northern sighed and stood. "Gord you said so yourself. We don't have a leader. We decide by consensus. You are making unilateral decisions. We will do as we have done and put it to a vote."

"NO!" Gord stood so fast his chair fell over. Northern flinched at his tone. She had never heard him shout before. "We are done with them Northern. I will not watch us all die again. Home's engines are being rehabbed and new reactors installed. We're leaving."

"Oh? Where are we going?"

"Away."

Northern raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

Chloe looked at Northern. "You're not changing his mind. He's been planning this since Meredith came by."

"The old Empress? What did she do?"

"More like what she didn't do. Gord was hoping to work with her to get an anti-Nanite faction in Sol going, to build a united front against them."

"And?"

Gord bent down and tipped his chair upright. As he sat, the seat squeaked. "She's a drunk. A party girl. She can't build enough consensus among her entourage about what to eat for dinner, let alone get generals on her side." Gord sighed and picked up a coffee cup. He looked inside, frowned, and put it back down.

"So you're going to what? Keep her here, locked in her ship?"

Gord looked up at Northern, almost as if he had forgotten she was there. "What? No. She's our guest until we fire the star drive. Then, we'll kick her out. She can link back here all she wants, it will just be dark interstellar space. She'll never find us again, if she even tries."

"And that leaves Zherun, where we started." Chloe said.

"I'll take her." Northern said, firmly.

"Oh? With what ship? The contaminated one we had to destroy?" Chloe's voice was icy.

"Shit Chloe, we have dozens of ships, all without pilots." Gord looked at Northern with an odd look in his eyes. "I will admit, this solves two problems for me. It gets rid of Zhe, and it gets rid of you." Gord nodded towards the door. "Go then. Take Zhe, take whatever the hell ship you want and leave."

****

Zhe laid in her cell, shivering. She survived the procedure to strip the Nanites from her body, barely. That didn't mean that the room was comfortable, or her AI jailers nice. They still had a hard time knowing what a comfortable temperature was. The food was food in name only. There were calories in it and she wasn't poisoned. Zhe had never experienced food that had anti-flavor before, but the AI's printers seemed to have done it. The water was metallic tasting, the lights harsh, and the entertainment non existent. The loud knock on her door was so startling that she squeaked and jumped up. Northern stood at the door, her arms crossed.

"Northern!" Zhe ran over and hugged her. "I can't believe you're here. What's going on? What are they going to do to me?"

"Heya Zhe." Northern returned the hug. "Gord says we can leave. He's letting us pick a ship and get out of here."

She broke off the hug and Zhe took a step back. "Just like that? Without anything from us? This feels like a trap."

Northern shrugged. "It's not like I have anything better. We can't escape Home, there's nowhere to go and we don't have a ship. Gord is going to run and hide and wait out the Nanites. He's done with the humans and everyone. Chloe and the others aren't putting up a fight. I said I wasn't going to let you rot and he told me to pick a ship and beat it."

"So we're leaving?"

"Yup. I'd tell you to pack your things, but they were all destroyed. Come on, let's go ship shopping."

They sat in an office near the docks, looking at an oversized pad. Ships scrolled by, their type, features and designations listed under them. "Not enough engine, too small, don't like that one, never liked that builder, those are known for electrical gremlins, ugh." Northern was scrolling through the list almost too fast for Zhe to follow.

"What about a Starjumper?"

Northern shook her head without turning to look at Zhe. "No. Too big, to conspicuous, and Gord probably wouldn't let me take one. They're too valuable as a supply of engines, reactors and printable matter." She stopped at one and her eyes went wide. "Holy shit. It's still here. This is more our speed, I think."

****

Zhe stood in front of the ship.

It was high on the walls of the docks, covered in a fine layer of dust. At a kilometer or so long it was larger than Fen's frigate, but smaller than a Starjumper. The engines on the back were true Stardrives. Designed and built before wormhole generators, they were meant to launch ships between stars at half the speed of light.

"But, I thought only Starjumpers did that?" Zhe said, reading the details in her helmet pad as they walked around the ship.

"Well sure, but Starjumper was just a name, it wasn't like, a class of ship. This was a sleeper ship. It didn't haul cargo, it hauled people. Hundreds of people in hibernation cabinets. It was for travel between the early colonies."

Zhe didn't know much about human ships, but even she could tell this one was different. Under the dust she could see that it was painted in a riot of color. Purples, blacks, neon yellow stripes, the ship was loud sitting on it's landing jacks. Maneuvering jets and juke blisters covered the ship. For its size, this was meant to be nimble. She pointed them out to Northern.

"Yup! Has big ass gyros too. Once they're spun up, she can pirouette and spin in place. This thing is designed to be almost impossible to hit and be able to park anywhere. It was going to be a whole class of ships, I think they were going to be called Starliners or something like that. Spared no expense when they built it."

"What happened?"

"Same thing that always happens. The money people got wind of how much the ship had cost and realized if they tried to build a hundred of them like they told everyone that quarterly profits would be slightly lower than projected, so they cancelled the whole venture after this one was built."

Zhe looked at the ship again. It was long, and slender and elegant. In front was a large sensor array that almost looked like windows. Under it, in faded paint was two words, written in an angular font.

Northern Lights.

Zhe gasped. "This was you?"

Northern smiled sadly. "This was me. My first body. What I was made to do." She looked at the ship and her eyes flashed blue for the briefest of moments.

Running lights flicked on and Zhe could feel the hum of reactors spinning up under her boots.

"And now it's me again."

[fortunesque]

WIP Wednesday

Here's a bit of a future chapter of Think of Me (Raditz x Reader, rated E). It's getting a little harder to find stuff to share for WIP Wednesday because most of the stuff I have at this point is either major spoiler heavy, or smut. Thankfully, this is neither 😅

The drinks have done a lot to open him up; Raditz is leaning back in his seat, with his feet propped up on a chair across from him. His tail is draped over the side of the chair and lays on the floor.

Between his tail, lounging around, and crazy amount of hair, Raditz reminds Yamcha more of a lion, than anything.

It's so weird to him that Raditz gets treated like such a loser. He's a really cool dude, at least, in Yamcha's opinion. He's certain that a lot of people on Earth would find him cool, too.

Maybe, he's not cool out in space? That's not really fair, though.

Well, Raditz is more than welcome to chill with him anytime. He's a cool dude.

Raditz shrugs. "Look, it wasn't really complicated. Power level is lower? Shoot em. Power level is higher? Get the fuck out."

"Wait, so you'd run away?" Yamcha asks.

Raditz rolls his eyes.

"Of course," he says. "I'm not going to get fucked up by natives just because some rich asshole wants to build a resort planet. Fuck 'em."

He brings his fingers up to his mouth, then sighs in frustration and puts his hand down.

Yamcha's seen Bulma do the same thing when she's done one of her many attempts to stop smoking. He wonders what kind of invisible smoke Raditz is craving, right now.

It's absolutely wild to him that this is Goku's brother. They don't look a thing alike, for starters. Not only that, but Raditz cusses and talks shit like a thug.

It's surprising, though, that he doesn't talk about getting laid, or about what women are like out there in the galaxy. Raditz almost talks like he's a taken man.

Maybe he is, and he's just not aware of that, yet.

Yamcha thinks there's something more going on with you and Raditz. Realistically, though, a long distance relationship is hard to maintain.

He thinks it's a good thing, though. Bulma says Raditz seems to have perked up quite a bit. Good sex with a beautiful woman will do that, but—

Yamcha swears there's more to it. You two looked right together when you curled up on the couch in his lap.

He's going to see if he can get Raditz to talk about you more, then talk to Bulma about it.

He can't help but notice, too, that Raditz cusses way less around you and doesn't talk about anything too violent.

Yeah, Raditz is trying to leave a good impression by being polite with you.

Good. That's a very good start. It's how Yamcha started reforming.

He hopes that Raditz makes friends along the way. One woman can't bear all of that. Goodness knows Bulma couldn't. Little Goku was a godsend to keep Yamcha in line. Maybe, Yamcha should be Raditz' Goku?

Yikes. Those are massive shoes to fill.

Yamcha should probably call Krillin to come help.

He makes up his mind; he's going to ask Raditz if he wants to train with him. The guy has potential in all sorts of ways.

And, it's a way they can hang out. Because, Raditz is cool.

[dr-futbol-blog]

Letters from Pegasus, Pt. 4

So, from McKay not having anyone on Earth to send a message to the scene cuts directly to Sheppard and Teyla discussing the topic of family in the jumper as they wait for the alien armada to arrive.

Sheppard is still uncharacteristically cranky, and Teyla is probably for the first time doubting his leadership. This callous man sitting next to her is not the Sheppard that she thought she knew. She doesn't know about his family, she doesn't yet know about how he was punished for going against orders to try to rescue people--among them a dear friend. For these and perhaps other reasons he could not make a promise to the friend of Teyla's family, and it seems to be eating him up inside:

Sheppard: This wasn't supposed to be a rescue mission. Teyla: Orin was a good friend of my father. Sheppard: I agreed to warn him. Teyla: If someone close to your family--a dear friend--was in danger of being taken by the Wraith, would you have not done the same? Sheppard: Not if it jeopardised the mission. Teyla: So in fighting the Wraith, we are to give up that which makes us different from them? Sheppard: I agreed to stop and pick him up if there was time--but only if there was time. I could be saving everyone in the damned galaxy if we could. Teyla: One man and his children are not every person. Sheppard: I agreed to help if there was time. You can only fight the battles you can win.

While he left himself the loop-hole before they left Atlantis, Sheppard didn't actually have any intention of disobeying Weir's order not to engage. He had no intention of placing them in any danger during this mission. Changing mission parametres in the middle of a mission is not strategically sound, and as much as Sheppard feels for everyone in the galaxy that he has personally jeopardized, he really doesn't like what this is turning into. He sounds jaded, he sounds like he's trying to be the hard-ass leader that he thinks he is supposed to be, but this isn't how he really feels. Like he tells her later, he would do anything for any one of them. He feels too much, and it's making him numb.

Sheppard also has a reason to want to get back home in one piece and on time. Between two scenes of Teyla and Sheppard discussing the topic in the jumper there is a scene in which Ford records a message to his grand-parents. He ends the message with "But I want you both to know that you're right here, always--all the time."

He pats his heart to indicate that he carries the thought of them in his heart all the time. And from there, we cut to Sheppard telling Teyla that he simply cannot risk going back for Teyla's 'dear friend'. He is full-on prepared to let this man and his whole family die to get back to Atlantis. The scene with Ford is meant to give us insight into Sheppard's motivation here, to let us know what is going on with him on the inside.

They watch the armada arrive and are horrified by it. Sheppard seems anxious to get right back to Atlantis but alas, the wraith keep the gate occupied and this seems to keep them from returning:

Sheppard: So we're stuck here. Teyla: Once the ship is rendered invisible again, we will be perfectly safe. Sheppard: I'm worried about getting the intel about the Wraith fleet back to Atlantis. Teyla: They will keep dialling in through the night at the very least.

Sheppard is worried about getting back. They are having to spend the entire night away from Atlantis. And all through this, there is someone that he is carrying in his heart all the time.

The video clips recorded by Ford seem to be interspersed with scenes of Sheppard and Teyla on the planet which suggests that they are commenting on Sheppard in particular. Ford tells his grand-parents, "I'm hoping that I'll be able to get home some time soon but, y'know, if I'm stuck here a while, I want you to know that I'm good. I'm doing things, seeing things I never thought I'd see." Teyla and Sheppard just watched the alien armada jump out of hyperspace, a sight that they will never forget as long as they live. The only difference seems to be that Sheppard is not feeling good, physically unharmed though he is.

In the next recording session, we get this:

Beckett: What shall I say? Ford: Uh, uh, "I miss you"? "I wish you were here"? Beckett: I wish who was here? Ford: I don't know. Who do you wish was here? Beckett: Nobody! I wish I wasn't bloody here!

This very much seems to reflect Sheppard's feelings at that same exact moment on the alien planet. He wishes he was not stuck on the planet and while he might miss people back home, he certainly does not wish that they were there with him. It's much better to know that at least they are safe back home. They could not have made it more obvious that Sheppard has a desire to get back home. But Beckett says something even more interesting next:

Ford: Tell her you love her! Beckett: No, no, I can't do that. I'd go all emotional. Ford: So? Beckett: She's very delicate, my mother--as sweet a soul as you'll ever meet, as pure as the driven snow. If I get upset, then she'll get upset and I can't have that.

Now, it will take until Tao of Rodney (S03E14) for McKay to hear Sheppard say it--after a fashion (and I'll come back to why the "in a way a friend feels about another friend" is just completely unnecessary if they were just friends, see previous entry) but it is implied here that by this time, Sheppard is already thinking it. But he can't just come out and say it because then McKay might say it back to him, and there's just no walking back from that. But he is starting to think it to himself. He has accepted this state of affairs. He loves this man. He is in love with this man. All of that.

This is lampshaded by Ford commenting on the message Sgt. Bates sends to his little brother:

Bates: I'm probably never gonna see him again. Why make it worse than it has to be? Ford: That's not what this is about, man. Bates: That's exactly what this is about. Don't sweat it, Lieutenant. I'm happy I got the chance to say goodbye. Ford: Yeah, but you didn't say it. Bates: Not in so many words.

Not in so many words. Sometimes you got to read between the lines. Sometimes the words you use communicate a lot more than the surface level reading. It's the thought that counts, the intention, even if it's sometimes disguised in something mundane, like a reference to basketball. But this particular scene is also very much a reference forward to the season finale where Sheppard does not say goodbye to McKay, he never does and never will, but instead says "So long, Rodney". This is foreshadowing that moment, but we'll return to it later.

Now, I've previously discussed the concept of the A-plot, this being the overarching story of the season; in this case, the threat posed by the wraith. Episodic television usually constructs stories so that there is a reference to the A-plot in most episodes, unless they are straight-out filler, and then there is the B-plot and the C-plot in each episode. The B-plot or storyline is typically more character-driven, or emotion-driven, and the C-plot or story is often lighter and comedic. In this episode, Sheppard and Teyla's scenes represent the B-plot and the recorded messages represent the C-plot up until they are all woven together in the final scenes. Now, A-plot spans the entire season, B-plot reaches across several episodes and may be carried over from one episode to the other whereas the C-plot is usually confined to just the episode in which it plays out. But they are all constantly in conversation with each other.

Constructing an episode involves working out the beats for each of the three storylines and then weaving them together for satisfying narrative build and character development. And these storylines are made to cross over, or dramatically contrast or impact on one another, to give the audience the strongest possible dramatic or comic experience. That is, there's a reason we see a certain B-plot scene followed by a particular C-plot scene, as they are connected. They are commenting on one another, they are in conversation. We are not shown these recordings from the expedition willy-nilly, they are meant to tell us something about what is happening in the other story threads. They are meant to explain to us the hidden motivations at play during Sheppard and Teyla's scenes. So, it's not unimportant where we cut from one scene to another. The previous scene lays the foundation for the subsequent scene.

So, in this episode we cut from Sheppard being reluctant to help this family on the alien planet to McKay's reluctance to record a message to Earth. We cut from McKay not having anyone special waiting for him on Earth to Sheppard making sure that he can get back to Atlantis in one piece. We cut from Ford carrying his loved ones in his heart all the time, telling them that he's talking to them "from a place… far, far from home. I'm good, though. You don't have to worry" to Sheppard and Teyla becoming temporarily marooned on this alien world, unable to return home.

And yes, we cut from Beckett telling his mother that he misses her terribly to Sheppard becoming more and more agitated as he waits on the planet. These scenes are in clear communication. These scenes explain to us Sheppard's hidden motivation that is never made explicit because he has spent his entire life concealing his emotions and unless they constructed the story beats like this, we would never know what's actually going on with him. But now we do.

He misses Atlantis and the people therein. Carries them in his heart all the time. He is unable to verbalize his feelings even though he very much feels them. And his emotions are contrasted with Zelenka's retelling of Atlantis rising from the ocean in an undeniable, powerful and unquestionably phallic surge culminating in the sun shining through all the windows, a sight that he will remember to his death.

If John Sheppard is not so much in love that it has shaken him to his very core, has dislodged something in his very foundation like the mechanism that released Atlantis from the ocean floor, the show's narrative doesn't work, makes no goddamn sense. Otherwise we just have a series of unconnected scenes, and that's not how writing for episodic television works. Never mind what we are hinted may or may not been happening in background, this is the story, the actual story of the show. This is the journey of its main character.

And, like. You can tell me it's all about his feelings for Weir like we haven't consistently been shown in a hundred different ways that his entire mental, physical, and emotional focus is somewhere else entirely. His whole world is oriented toward someone whose absence is making him so cranky that he's willing to sacrifice actual human lives in his desire to get back to this person.

You can tell me but that's just a very different show from the one I was watching.

Continued in Pt. 5

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

in gallifreyan, whichever scripts, how do they write coordinates, be it time or displacement? Or planet relative calendar dates.

How do Time Lords write coordinates?

There's a bit of contradictory information and things that don’t make much sense when it comes to space-time coordinates and Gallifreyans, but here’s an answer I hope will sate your curiosity, with plenty of background:

🔑Key Parts of the Coordinate System

Spatial Coordinates: These specify locations in three-dimensional space relative to Galactic Zero Centre (Gallifrey’s Eye of Harmony, basically, or at least somewhere near it). They usually consist of Vector and Quadrant particles.

Temporal Coordinate: This indicates time, relative to Gallifrey’s present (whatever that’s supposed to mean! I would probably assume that while Gallifrey went walkies, the Doctor's TARDIS either used temporal coordinates relative to Event One (the creation of the universe), or otherwise fixed it at a certain Gallifreyan date. There are also specialised TARDIS instruments which can be calibrated help skip the temporal coordinate stuff and make the input relative to the planet).

Universal Coordinate: This designates the specific universe required.

Epsilon Coordinates: Calculated paths through the Space-Time Vortex, usually handled by a TARDIS automatically.

Flight Data: Details about departure and destination points.

🚀Space-Time Coordinates Format

Space-time coordinates consist of fifteen digits. Using these two combined below will get you to the right star system:

Vector (2 digits): Indicates the broad direction.

Quadrant (2 digits): Specifies the quadrant within the galaxy.

Using these two below in addition will get you a more precise location, and a time:

Exact Spatial Location (7 digits): Detailed coordinates within the quadrant.

Temporal Location (4 digits): Relative to Gallifrey’s present (you'll obviously need to be longer to be more precise).

🌍Example

Let's have a crack with Earth’s galactic coordinates. We know the Earth’s Galactic Coordinates are 5804 4684884:

Vector: 58, Quadrant: 04 (solely on these you’ll reach Mutter’s Spiral)

Exact Spatial Location: 4684884 (add this and you’ll reach Earth)

Temporal Location: 9182 (+9182 time units from Gallifrey’s present)

The Flight Data Monitor will simplify this. Assuming a journey from Earth to fictional Zargon 3, your TARDIS monitor will display something like this:

Departure Planet: Sol 3 (Earth) [Dimension 01] Location: London, England Local Dateline: 2024 Earth Year, 10th Era of Gallifrey Destination Planet: Zargon 3 [Dimension 04] Location: Zargon City, Zargonville Local Dateline: 156 Zargon Year, 11th Era of Gallifrey

Complete Coordinates:

01 5804 4684884 9182 -> 04 0316 0316500 3050

🏛️Integration with Landmark Worlds

Additionally, a TARDIS’s Galactic Positioning System can be fine-tuned using the relative locations of several Landmark Worlds. These landmark worlds include Gallifrey, Dagusa, Caresh, Erekan, Gau-Usu, and Cern. This way, the TARDIS can get more precise navigation by periodically materialising in space to recalibrate bearings as it's flying.

🔢Epsilon Coordinates

Then there are Epsilon Coordinates. These serve as a roadmap through the Space-Time Vortex, and need to be calculated before a flight. A Time Lord could do it mentally if they wanted, but the TARDIS usually automatically calculates these – it’s hugely complex maths, even for a Time Lord.

🖊️Writing the Coordinates

This really depends on the script you'd prefer to use, you can use modern Gallifreyan, which is probably the most lore-friendly, or Sherman's, or circular, or just bog standard Latin script numbers.

For GIL's Sollifreyan conlang shorthand script, you can use the 0-9 base with hyphens in-between, where the spaces would go.

Related:

How do Time Lords write dimensional coordinates?: How dimensional coordinates get written and work in TARDISes.

Do we have any info on TARDIS biology?: Overview of TARDIS biological aspects.

Phew, hope that helped! 😃

More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[carionto]

For once, that space Doomsday thing is NOT us

(which is a very bad, no good, horrible, terrible thought)

The Galactic Core! A nigh impossible to ascertain let alone approach or navigate area of space. A supermassive Black Hole chaotically orbited by countless celestial objects at ludicrous speeds.

Due to their past activity, we approached Humanity with a very serious and troubling matter that came to our attention.

What did you do to the supermassive Black Hole at the center of our Galaxy?

"What?"

It's gone. Poof. The nearby stars and smaller black holes are in complete chaos and will eventually form into a new central Black Hole, but nowhere near as gigantic. The repercussions to the entire structure of the Galaxy are, well, we don't know what it's gonna do. How did you do it?

"Whoa whoa whoa, slow down there. We didn't do anything of the sort. We're still working on trying to warp planets away. We're at least a few decades away from being able to, in theory, manipulate black holes. We swear, it wasn't us!"

Wait, but you do have a way of doing something like that?

"On paper, sorta-not-really-but-it's-not-impossible yeah? Honest, it is just two very niche quantum mechanic shenanigan theories. The energy requirements alone are beyond what a hundred stars produce in their entire lifespans, and the materials for the devices exist in one wacko's brain. But some advances in material synthesis suggests something like those could exist, after a few other breakthroughs in quark manipulation and electron discharging that is."

Okay, let's think. What kind of energy signature do you suppose your tech would emit? We're scanning and analyzing everything, and despite extensive clean up, the interference from thousands of stars garbles everything into an incoherent mess.

"Ah, well, there is one thing, but... it's something we can't say."

This is critical! We don't care what secret your "vanishing" holds, an event of this magnitude supersedes it! Tell us!

"No. We understand, but that is a line we will not cross. We decided so at the beginning. Nothing will change that. Not even the end of the Universe."

You!!! Gah! You can be so infuriatingly stubborn with the worst of things! Fine. The Galactic Coalition cannot force members into action or to divulge information against their will, and we will respect our millennia steadfast rules and your decision. However, we will not forget.

"We know. Neither will we. You'll just have to trust us that we had nothing to do with this, and will conduct our own investigation. If our suspicion proves accurate, you can bet Humanity will focus our entire attention to resolving mystery, and correct what has been done."

__________________________

[Later, at Earth's orbital Head Governing Station]

Okay, that's two votes for extragalactic space bugs, five for A Wizard Did It, and eight for our interdimensional hate-watcher. Unless we can confirm that it is somehow breaching the space between dimensions on its own, we cannot utilize any of the methods we have to check back there. If we are wrong, even a microscopic probe slipping between might allow it to follow back for real.

No, for now, let's try and figure out what Cthulu actually is and if magic is real. Rescind funding limits on anyone claiming to be a magician - give them full staffing and resources. And assign psychologists to observe them as well. If nothing else, let's advance our understanding of the human psyche under all the mind altering substances they're bound to do.