#and yes her faceplates open :3

[milky-shea]

🤍🩷💜 Another TSBS sibling oc! This time I wanted to make a character for one of Funtime Freddy's many siblings, Nora being one of the older ones (ironic since Mars is also an older sibling)

I really like how she came out though :3

[lockheed-martin-unofficial]

Starscream is given a bath, Part 4:

Bet y’all thought I was done with this. I’m not done, I was just stuck on this part for a really long time. It wasn’t going the way I wanted it to, but then again, I always have doubts when it comes to Starscream’s characterization.

Anyway, it ended up being pretty long. 1298 words. I’m not all too satisfied with it, but I gotta just post it and move on.

Part 3: here

Part 5: here

——————————————————————————

“Starscream.”

He opened his optics once more, taking a few seconds to recalibrate. It appeared that he had actually fallen into a recharge without noticing. He looked down at himself, seeing that his arms and chest were looking…shinier than usual. He flexed his digits, touching the tip of every talon to his thumb. She’d done a good job, for a human. Collecting himself but still feeling a little drowsy, Starscream looked down at her.

“Yes? What is it?”

“I need to clean your vents.”

He bristled at that statement, his expression quickly turning sour. “You don’t need to do that.” He waved a servo, wings flattening behind his back.

“Come on, would you rather be breathing dirty air for the rest of your life?”

“My cooling system cleans itself.” He huffed. “I thought you knew that by now.”

“Your air filtration and internal components do. The vents don’t. They’re external.” Damnit, why did she have to know so much about cybertronian biology? The human reached up, her hands grabbing onto the vents on both sides of his face and tugging on them. He grumbled at that, still wanting to avoid this wretched fate. Nevertheless, he allowed her to pull him down. He knew by now that arguing would be pointless.

“I won’t get any water in, I’m just gonna run a towel over them.” She let go of him, stepping out of the bathtub. She quietly walked to a cabinet, opening it and grabbing a soft little towel. The human ran some warm water over it, before squeezing out the excess and returning to him.

“Lean on the side of the tub, please?”

He didn’t say anything, but did as told. His wings were hanging low, as flat as they possibly could be. Seriously? Did he hate vent cleaning that much?

“This won’t hurt a bit, I promise.”

He only grumbled in response.

The human brought the towel up to him, first rubbing it over his faceplate to wipe off anything that wasn’t cleaned by the initial run of water. She cleaned him with the soft cloth using one hand, the other holding onto the side of his vent intake to keep him still. Starscream had shut his optics as tightly as possible, not moving an inch during this part of the cleanup.

“That’s nice, isn’t it?” She asked, her voice gentle as if talking to a child. “Doesn’t that warmth feel so soothing, Starscream?”

“Don’t patronize me.” He replied, his voice muffled from the towel she kept rubbing on his face. The human just chuckled at the sight.

“Now if you just tilt your head back, I can move on to the vents.”

He did as instructed, but she could easily see how tense he was. Starscream’s servos gripped the sides of the bathtub, holding himself still. She tilted his chin up ever so slightly, noting that the seeker still refused to open his optics. Slowly and being as gentle as possible, she pressed the towel into his vents, using her fingers to assist in cleaning any grime off the grilles. The process went smoothly for the most part, Starscream obviously uncomfortable but managing to keep himself still. All the way until-

He yelled and kicked up the water when she touched a bad spot, his servos finding and gripping her wrists as he pulled her away from himself.

“That’s enough touching, thank you very much.” Starscream scrambled away to the other corner of the tub, a flash of irritation on his faceplate and a defensiveness to his mannerisms.

“Hang on, I think I saw something in there.”

The seeker wrapped his arms around his frame, pulling his knees all the way up to his chest. The human let out a soft sigh, sitting on the side of the tub and trying to sound as gentle as possible.

“Do you want me to get it?”

He met her gaze and the look on his faceplate momentarily shifted as though she’d just offered to rip his spark out. Then, his expression changed again to one of contemplation. He knew this was going to hurt. But he also knew that he was going to feel much worse over the long run if she didn’t get it out. Could she really, though? Get it out?

Starscream could tolerate pain, best to just get it over with. Better her than asking the Autobots for help. Fine, he’d trust her to get it out.

“Fine. Just… be quick about it?” He asked, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.

The human nodded, and Starscream shuffled back to his previous spot, unusually timid. He was partially acting, pretending to be more scared than he actually was with the hope that it’d earn him a gentler touch.

“Try not to make any sudden moves, alright? I won’t lose a finger if you flinch, not there, but please… be mindful of your strength.”

“Right. The usual.” He replied with a tiny chuckle and a subtle crack of his voice.

Evidently, it had worked. She held his faceplate between her hands, positioning it just right so she could see inside the grilles- which he had feathered to a 90-degree angle for better access.

“Thank you.”

She leaned forward, peering inside. Once she had a good look at the piece of debris, she spoke up.

“Okay, I’m gonna start now. Don’t panic.”

Starscream didn’t resist, just kept his optics shut hoping that this would all be done soon. Carefully, the human reached her fingers inside- this felt weird. This felt so weird. Cooling vents were not supposed to have anything solid entering them. Not so deep. Even though he knew the human’s hand was there to help him, that she was not a threat, he had to clench his servos in order to ignore every coded instinct telling him to keep his vents clear, to remove the obstruction that was her hand immediately.

He was so focused on keeping still that he didn’t even realised she was done until his temperature regulation system suddenly stopped yelling at him. Hesitantly opening his optics once more, he was met with the sight of the human looking down at him, a shard of metal in her hand covered in dried energon.

The first thing he felt was relief, as he took in a strong intake of air and a slight smile found its way to his faceplate.

That hadn’t hurt all that much.

“See? Got it out. didn’t hurt too much, I hope.”

Seeing as he didn’t reply, she continued.

“But I think it left behind a cut, do you need me t-“

Oh no. He knew exactly what she was going to ask, and he wouldn’t allow it.

“No, no need!” he suddenly cut her off, and grabbed the piece of shrapnel from her hand, examining it. “If this is all that was in there… my frame will be able to repair any leftover damage on its own now.”

He turned his gaze back down to her.

“As helpful as you have been, I’d rather not have you rooting through my internals any longer than you absolutely have to. Especially there.” he explained, an aversion of his optics accompanying that last word. He didn’t want to seem rude, especially after all this human had done.

“Hmm, that’s fair. I guess I see why it’d be uncomfortable if our roles were reversed.”

He was relieved at her understanding. Well, his problem was solved. He should probably thank her for that. Starscream scoffed. He was doing too much thanking today.

“I’m…grateful. For the help.”

She smiled. Huh. There she went again. He could really get used to that.

“Don’t mention it. Must’ve been painful. And besides, it’s not time to thank me yet. We’ve still gotta do your wings.”

[gardens-light]

Pulsing Sparks. Beating Hearts.

Days rolled by and before the Autobot medic knew it, a week had already past. And despite the odd arguments and sarcasm caused by the pair of you being stubborn at times- he'd always see you back in his medbay. Just as determined and eager to learn from him- if not more.

Compared to his previous interns, you indeed were a breath of fresh air to Ratchet. With your open mindedness, laid back attitude and that damn smile that he swears is now forever burned into his memory core. The medic slowly realized he began to slip into unfamiliar territory...

Contents: Mild Coarse Language. Events takes place during 'Transformers- Revenge of the Fallen.' Autobot Ratchet x F/Human Reader. Reader Insert. Fluff.

Word Count: 4,600k

Inspired Song: Hungry Eyes- Eric Carmen

Seris: The Intern- Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

The hues of orange, pink and blue begun to fade, as the sun settled over Diego Garcia. Casting shadows across the multiple hangars of the N.E.S.T base, allowing the bustling activities slowly calm to a more gradual pace.

A small grumble rumbled deep within Ratchet's chassis, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Feeling the strain within his optics, caused by the long hours of exposure to the holographic screens of his console. The tension within his cables ached for rest, while he attempted to stretch his tired limbs.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips, "that's all the information you need to know for today. We'll continue tomorrow."

Confusion etched into his faceplates, as an unusual silence greeted him. Ratchet looked over his shoulder, raising an optic ridge as your sleeping form came into view.

Hunching over your desk, arms crossed upon the stainless steel surface, using your forearm as a makeshift pillow to rest your cheek. Hair messily framing your peaceful face, as hidden exhaustion lingered upon your features.

Ratchet slightly shook his head. She needs to stop pushing herself to go beyond than what's necessary, haven't I already expressed that her current efforts is good enough? A small smirk teased his lips, as Ratchet fully faced you. Yes... I have, but her damn stubbornness and persistence always seems to control her motivation, rather than reason... Guess we're not so different.

"Valkyrie... Valkyrie... wake up."

A low grumble escaped your lips as you begun to stir, feeling Ratchet's digit gently poke your shoulder. Stretching your arms across the desks' surface, eyes fluttering and blinking away the tiredness. As your sleepy gaze lazily roamed over the Autobot, watching him crouch down as he possibly could, attempting to make his large frame appear less startling.

"O-Oh... sorry-ah!" discomfort winced across your features, as your tensed muscles caused pain to shoot throughout your back. Refusing to allow you to sit upright, without enduring the stiffness and soreness of being hunched over for so long.

Concern flashed across Ratchet's faceplates, "let me have a look at that-"

"N-No. I'm fine." You spoke through a weak smile, "just a little stiff-"

"Don't try and be proud, it won't get you anywhere in my medbay. Now... let me help."

"Ratchet, you don't- oh!" Your eyes flickered, as the Autobot ran the knuckle of his index digit against your back.

His touch was surprisingly gentle, like he knew how much pressure to use to ease the pain while not causing any further stress. Your posture relaxed a little as you leaned against his touch, a relieved smile framing your lips while a happy sigh escaped. The tightness of your muscles and stiff knots melting away, as his knuckle carefully dug and massaged along your spine.

Ratchet's spark slightly fluttered while you gradually straightened your posture, attempting to lean yourself a little more against his touch. The yellow and red Autobot bit the inside of his cheek, trying to fight a fond smile etching across his faceplates as another happy sigh escaped you.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah... thanks Ratchet."

Your loving smile almost made air get stuck in the medic's vents, causing him to swallow his emotions and clearing his vocal processor. Attempting to keep his voice to it's usual nonchalant tone, "you're... welcome. And... for future reference, I highly recommend that you don't fall asleep at your desk again."

A simple shrug rolled your shoulders, "guess I was more exhausted than I thought I was."

"Yeah well... next time I won't be so helpful. I'll leave you to suffer in discomfort-"

Ratchet swallowed as you gazed at him with a soft pout, your eyes teasing him with a childlike innocence. "Oh... but what if I need your touch to make me feel better?"

Small shocks of electricity zapped throughout his wires, his spark slightly pulsing out of rhythm. Damn it! W-Why does her smile make me...? -

A huff of defeat left him, Ratchet's voice reduced to a slight grumble. "Well... I suppose I could make... a exception-"

"So..." your voice still somewhat held it's teasing tone, as your smile widened. "I take it that I've impressed you enough to outlast your previous interns?"

A small chuckle bubbled under your breath, as your soft gaze noticed a smile teasing the corners of Ratchet's lips. "You've may hold the new record for the longest intern. But... don't think you're out of the dark just yet, the internship has still just started. There's still a chance that you could cut and run, just like the others."

"Don't count on it. I'm not going anywhere."

The Next Day. 6:30am

The soft melody of a familiar song filled the air, creating the soothing atmosphere which Ratchet has grown used to by now as he approached the medbay hangar. Tiredness slowly leaving his blue optics, as his warm gaze fell onto your silhouette.

Blissfully drawing away in your notepad, allowing the radio to envelop you in your own world as you sat at your desk. Occasionally sipping the mug of your usual beverage, which always remained within arms reach.

"You are aware that it's ok to have a lay in, right?"

Ratchet's spark fluttered as you looked up at him, greeting him with that soft, sweet smile that the medic has secretly grown to love. "And have you accuse me of being 'lazy' again? No thanks."

A small chuckle escaped the Autobot as he approached his console. Allowing the holographic screens to flicker to life. "That was a joke and you know it."

A subtle sense of pride slightly swelled in Ratchet's spark, as his blue optics roamed over your sketches of the Cybertronian anatomy. She's definitely improved since the last time I saw those sketches. I... shouldn't really be surprised of what she's capable of by now. Perhaps... she might be ready to assist me more in the medbay soon.

The medic raised an optic ridge as his gaze noticed a few dot points on the opposite page of your sketch. "If I may ask, what are you writing?"

"Just additional notes." You casually spoke. "I got... curious about a couple of things about your species. Honestly, was hoping I could possibly have a better understanding of you- more than just Autobot biology, I mean..." A frustrated sigh escaped you, tossing your datapad aside. "But the N.E.S.T archives regarding your species has missing information."

Ratchet paused for a moment, a flicker of surprise flashing within his optics. "And what... is that, exactly?"

"I've been trying to find more about this... 'Primus'... I hear you and the other Autobots mention his name sometimes. But... who is he?"

W-Well... I wasn't quite expecting that.

Ratchet composed himself, clearing his vocal processor before giving you his undivided attention. "Primus... was an ethereal being whom acted as a force of good and wisdom within the universe. It's foretold that our planet is made up of his very body, and that the AllSpark is the physical incarnation of his lifeforce. As you know, all living Cybertronians have a spark- our equivalent of a soul. All sparks are fragments of Primus' lifeforce."

"So... he's like a deity or a God?"

"Yes... you could say that, I suppose. But he's worshiped in different ways throughout Cybertron. Some view him as 'The Great Creator' or a guardian spirit, while others may believe he's nothing but a legend. But the one thing all Cybertronians agree on is that he gave us life."

Answering him with a silent nod of appreciation, as you jotted down abbreviated dot-points within your notepad. Curiosity begun to creep into your thoughts causing your eyes to flicker up at Ratchet, closing your notepad as you paused for a moment. "Can I ask... what about you? What's your view?"

Ratchet's mouth opened but a heavy sigh tumbled out instead of words. His blue optics studied the genuine curiosity upon your features, but also noticing the soft comfort which shined within your eyes. Almost like a silent reassurance, that you'd accept any answer- even if it was none at all. Making the medic's spark affectionately pulse within its chamber.

"I... never had much faith in Primus growing up." His voice was just loud enough for your to hear. "In my youth, I... preferred more scientific answers for questions about life and what happens after we deactivate- I still do. But... the older I got, and the horrors of war that I saw..." his optics flickered away from you. "I became more open to the idea of a god. I honestly never felt an affinity for worshiping him like some, but now... I do very least respect Primus for giving us life. After all... it's all we have here in this universe of war."

His soft gaze returned to you, only to slightly widen as you simply nodded in acknowledgement. Your gaze still holding soft curiosity- Ratchet couldn't detect any judgement nor scrutiny lingering within your eyes. For if other Cybertronians heard his views, the medic would have received a lecture. But here you were, not only perfectly accepting and understanding Ratchet's views, but... also showed deep interest.

Ratchet raised an optic ridge as he studied your features, as you briefly took a moment to ponder on a thought. Almost as if, you were carefully selecting your words, "w-with the... AllSpark destroyed and... you Autobots being so far away from home. Can you... Can you still 'sense' Primus?"

He paused. It was a fair yet complex question. Something that many Cybertronians struggled with, and even the medic had to admit that he was somewhat confused by the whole thing. "In a way... yes. The AllSpark may be gone... but as long as there are Cybertronians still living, we can still feel his presence. Even on this primitive little planet."

Your sweet, appreciative smile sent Ratchet's spark a flutter, while the gentle warmth within his chassis entangled his wires. Like how one would feel butterflies in their stomach.

"Thanks for talking to me, Ratchet. I know... culture beliefs isn't really a topic most are comfortable with, but... I appreciate you sharing with me."

A subtle smile teased the corners of the Autobot's lips, as Ratchet responded with a simple nod. It had been a long time since he'd had a serious conversation about the more sensitive topics of Cybertron, and... he'd honestly enjoyed it. He was... almost surprised at how easy it had been to talk you, of all people.

"No problem, Valkyrie-"

'Ping.'

A heavy sigh escaped Ratchet, rolling his optics. As a chime from his monitor interrupted the conversation. "But I'm afraid we might need to continue this conversation another time."

As the Autobot turned his back on you, a teasing smile crept upon your lips. "Well... now I know who to thank for giving you good looks."

D-Did she... just...?

Ratchet's spark suddenly skipped a beat. Like a spell, your words caused his body to stiffen, servos pausing in mid-type upon his console's keyboard. Peering over his shoulder, the Autobot's wide-eyed gaze saw your seemingly innocent demeanor, as you continued jotting down things in your notepad.

A gentle warmth rose beneath his faceplates as your eyes briefly flickered up at him. Breath got caught in the medic's thoat, as he noticed the flirtatious, mischievous sparkle within your eyes. The sound of Ratchet's cooling fans joined the humming symphony of monitors and computers, which filled the air of the medbay hangar.

It not like Ratchet wasn't used to the odd flirtatious comments. Before 'The Great War', many femmes would often give the medic such complements. Their voices dripping with a sultry tone that would rile up his spark, while their intimate touch would send an involuntary shudder throughout his frame. But this... this was different.

Whenever you were near, he couldn't help but feel like a moth drawn to a flame. It seemed like you unknowingly had this... way of drawing him out of his own head, making the Autobot forget about his worries and frustrations. Even if... it was just for a little while.

Ratchet would often find himself gazing at your eyes, as if a whole another universe lied behind the captivating colour.

By the AllSpark, why can't I focus?! A heavy sigh escaped the Autobot, as he hunched over the console. Realizing he's been lost within his own thoughts for the past hour. Perhaps I should run a diagnostics check.

But the medic's body freezes once again, as he turns towards his second monitor screen. His jaw slightly dropping, his wide-eyed gaze soaking in the movement of you shrugging off your military jacket and exposing your black crop top. His blue optics traced each curve and contour, while you used your jacket to pat away the sweat from your neck, collarbone and cleavage. Ratchet swallowed slightly and found himself staring at you for a few moments before finding his voice again.

"A-Are you... alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Your voice almost sound breathless. "Just... still getting used to the heat."

"Perhaps... you should take a break."

The Autobot quickly averted his gaze as you looked up at him. Trying to keep his usual, gruff demeanor.

"You sure?" you casually spoke, tossing your jacket over your chair. "I mean... it's still pretty early."

Ratchet simply nodded. "Yes, you've... been working all morning. You... shouldn't over exert yourself. And... Be careful with the heat out there. I'd hate to find a new intern just because you melted away."

Oh... that sweet melody laugh of hers...

"Noted Doc." You spoke between giggles, giving the Autobot a sweet smile despite him having his back towards you. "I won't be long."

The medic released a shaky breath, feeling a slight shiver throughout his frame. What's wrong with me...?

---

The familiar laughter of Lennox and his unit filled the air, drawing your attention to the pool, as they dog-piled and pushed one another into the water. While the harsh vibrations of Sideswipe and Ironhide sparring nearby, rippled throughout the concrete and gravel ground.

"You guys haven't changed a bit."

Lennox looked up, greeting you with a warm smile while using his hand to shield his eyes from the harsh sun. "Ah! I see you've escaped Ratchet. How are you? Still putting up with that attitude of his?"

"Besides feeling a little warm... I'm ok. And Ratchet's not that bad." You spoke between chuckles, giving Lennox's bicep a playful punch.

A few men snickered at your words, as you and Lennox approached the side of the pool.

"You may outlasted the previous interns." The Major smiled, placing his feet into the pool. "But his attitude still sent a few running for the hills-"

"That's because they were incompetent pussies."

The teams snickers turned into full blown laughter, most giving you a simple nod in agreement. A wide grin spread across Lennox's features, his amused gaze flickering at you as you joined his side. Pulling up your camo trousers towards your knee, allowing the cool water to subtlety splash against your legs. "I'll give you that."

"In all seriousness. I'd... be lying if I didn't say that I've been on the receiving end of one of Ratchet's grumpy lectures, or felt him express his temper from time to time." A sweet smile teased the corner of your lips as your eyes flickered down towards the sparkling pool. "But... I do know that he doesn't mean it, and that his words actually comes from a place of care and concern."

Lennox nodded, "we've all felt Ratchet's temper a few times... but I gotta admit. Even though I've never doubted you for a second..." you could feel his soft gaze upon you. "I've honestly never seen him take to someone so well, like he has with you. I think... Ratchet's grown a bit fond of you."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. I just... learnt how to get through his 'concrete walls'- which required a lot of patience, may I add."

Lennox shook his head, a small scoff escaping him. If only you knew how well you've broken through the walls of that grumpy medic.

"Thanks... for doing what you did to bring me here. It's... been great working with you again, Lennox."

"I wouldn't of had it anyother way. Having you here... has really helped break through the tension that's been hovering over this place for months-"

Clash! Bang!

The sound of Ironhide's and Sideswipe's fists clashing disturbs the air, as their spar now turned into an all out brawl. The flash of a silver fist collided with Ironhide's jaw, while he attempted to tackle the young Corvette Stingray to the ground.

You winced as Ironhide grapled his sparring partner into a headlock, "shouldn't we... stop them?"

Lennox perked his head up, but only to chuckle and wave your concern away with a dismissive hand. "Na it's fine. It's normal for those two to go all out with each other, the bots knows each others limits. Besides, you know me and my boys blow off steam from time to time. The Autobots aren't any different-"

"This... doesn't feel the same as your boys rough housing."

Worry begun to clutch onto your heart, giving it an uncomfortable squeeze as you watched the brawl between the two bots grow more heated and intense. Ironhide's features shifted into a scowl as he began to increase the force behind his blows. A breathless gasp escaped Sideswipe as the gun-metal Autobot punched him square in the abdomen, knocking the breath out of Sideswipe while he fell backwards.

A spine chilling echo of metal harshly creaking and warping filled the air. Your eyes widened as Sideswipe's features twisted in pain, attempting to cradle his ankle joint but also shield his torso from Ironhide's next blow, as he laid upon the ground.

"Man- Autobot down!" You yelled, quickly rushing to your feet. "Autobot down!-"

"Valkyrie?!" Lennox attempted to grab you by the hem of your cargo trousers, but the fabric just slipped through his fingers. "Ironhide! Sideswipe! Medic on field!"

Ironhide's optics widened as you came into view, his gaze instantly softening as realization came to him. Lowering his fist and taking a step back, shock flashed across his faceplate as you came between him and Sideswipe. Not that your height did much to separate the two metal giants.

"You shouldn't have rushed in like that!" Sideswipe protested. "You could of gotten seriously hurt!-"

"Well I didn't." Ignoring the silver Autobot's unamused gaze, as you examined his ankle joint. Gently running a hand over the metal plating which warped outwards, allowing you to see inside. "We're... gonna need to take you to the medbay." It's... not like I'm much help without Ratchet, don't think there's any bandages that comes in 'Autobot size'...

"I'm fine." Sideswipe muttered through his dentas, attempting to hide the pain that shot throughout his frame, as he struggled to get back onto his peds. "N-No need for dramatics-"

"You should know, that pride won't get you anywhere in the presence of a medic." You looked up at Ironhide, "please help him."

Snapping out of his daze, the weapons specialist attention returned to you. "Right... C'mon Sides..."

As Ironhide grabbed Sideswipe's arm, draping it over his shoulders, assisting the silver Autobot to take the weight off his injury. Lennox gently took hold of your forearm.

"Please... be more careful next time." He muttered into your ear, "I really don't want to explain to my higher ups, how our best intern gotten under the peds of an Autobot. And... I'd also rather avoid having that convocation with Ratchet..."

"You know me, Lennox." You spoke with a playful smile. "I'm a medic, of course I'm careful."

A heavy sigh escaped him, allowing your forearm to slip away from his soft grasp. Rubbing his temples, "since when have you been careful, Valkyrie?" I've known you long enough to cause me multiple heart attacks... You also haven't changed a bit.

---

"Ratchet..."

Briefly glancing over his shoulder, Ratchet's optics widened as you and the two Autobot's entered the medbay hangar. His gaze studying Sideswipe, as he leaned onto Ironhide to support his weight.

"Twisted leg piston, possible wire and cable damage within the right ankle joint." You briefly explained, gesturing towards Sideswipe.

A sigh escaped the medic, rolling his optics while approaching his injured comrade. "Let me guess. You and Ironhide got too competitive again?"

"Everything was under control." Sideswipe groaned, as Ironhide carefully sat him down on the medical slab. "Till your girl ran in between us..."

A subtle heat rose beneath the medic's faceplate, as his soft gaze briefly flickered towards you. My... girl? Ratchet quickly shook his helm before the thought could fully load into his processor. Schooling his expression and tone of voice back to his usual demeanor.

"Oh, I'm well aware of how 'under control' you two can be. And Sideswipe..." Ratchet purposely leaned over the silver Autobot, speaking in a gruff mutter as the medic reached for his tools. "She's not 'my' girl."

A low hiss escaped Sideswipe, as Ratchet carefully removed the twisted panel.

"Hold still and don't squirm." He lectured, "I can't fix you, if you're moving around all the time."

Peering into Sideswipe's joint, a small hum rumbled deep within Ratchet's vocal processor. Studying the tangled mess of wires and cables which had somehow got caught around the piston, while the piston itself looked as it was in danger of snapping anytime soon.

Bringing yourself onto your tiptoes, foolishly attempting to bring yourself more to the Autobot's height. Despite only reaching a little more to Ratchet's ankle. Now I know how an ant feels....

"Is there... anything I can do?"

Ironhide chuckled as your voice almost sounded like a concerned child. "That's very sweet, Dollface but Ratchet-"

"Could... actually do with some assistance." The medic interrupted after pausing for a moment. "Come here and take a look."

Ironhide's surprised gaze flickered between you and Ratchet. Before landing on Sideswipe, silently asking his injured comrade. Did I... just hear that right...?

Carefully stepping onto Ratchet's open servo, balancing yourself upon his palm as the Autobot knelt towards you. Unaware of how the simple touch caused his spark to flutter and butterflies entangled his circuits, as Ratchet gently placed you down upon the medical slab. Allowing you to gaze into the opening of Sideswipe's ankle, which almost came to your height.

"What you can do is gently untangle the wires and cables that are in danger of getting damaged even more. I need your... delicate touch, while I bend his piston back into place."

Your heart skipped a beat, warmth rasing to your cheeks as you looked up at the Autobot with a surprised gaze. "I-I'm flattered by the trust and confidence you have in me. But..." you lowered your voice to just above a whisper, "you know I haven't... I don't want to hurt Sideswipe."

Ratchet's gaze softened, his spark sending a subtle warmth of appreciation and... admiration? Throughout his frame. Indeed it was true that the medic very rarely allowed any assistance during situation's such as this- including his own comrades, but him allowing- let alone accepting the assistance of a human? That was unheard of!

But just as you continuously proved time and time again, you wasn't recklessly eager to jump into something which was out of your depth. You genuinely cared about not causing Sideswipe any more pain than necessary, and your expression alone spoke volumes of your concern of messing anything up or worse.

"You won't hurt him." Ratchet assured. "Just go slow and be gentle. I'll be right here."

A sharp hiss escaped Sideswipe, his ped twitching under your touch as your fingers ran over his knotted circuits. Swallowing his nerves, as the Autobot medic shot him a glare while easing the piston back into its proper form. Pink lightly dusted your cheeks and subtle warmth rose to Ratchet's faceplates, whenever your hands briefly brushed against one another. His spark and your heart almost fluttering in sync, as his optics wandered away from your hands to your face.

Finding himself studying your expression. The way your eyes seemed to focus, the way your lips were drawn into a concentrated frown. How your feathered touch effortlessly untangled Sideswipe's wires and cables.

A small smile tugged upon the corners of Ratchet's lips, as you muttered the correct order of each wire and cable as you untangled them. His spark pulsing within its chamber while his servos worked in sync with yours, his soft gaze traveling back up towards your focused expression. It was... like the brief time you've spent together in the medbay had became second nature for the both of you.

"Ratchet... this green wire needs soldering."

Pausing in his work, the Autobot simply gazed at which you were pointing to. Briefly answering with a silent nod, while grabbing a human sized solder-iron and holding it out to you. But only to be greeted by your surprised and wide eyed gaze.

"B-But I-"

"You'll be just fine." Ratchet's soft yet confident smile, sent your heart to skip a beat. Causing the light shade of pink to dust your cheeks even more, "we've gone over the basics of soldering. I trust you to do it yourself."

As you slowly began to solder the green wire back to its connection. Ironhide couldn't help but let a knowing smile stretch across his faceplate, noticing the look of silent praise and support creep across Ratchet's expression.

"There... how does that feel, Side?" you nervously looked up at the silver Autobot as he sat more upright. Gently twisting and bending his ped.

"Not bad... not bad at all. You've got some skill there, Toots." His supportive smile eased your fluttering nerves.

You looked up at Ratchet with a sweet, appreciative gaze as he let out a satisfied hum. "Well... I have a great mentor."

A small pang of pride made his spark pulse a little quicker within it's chamber. Sending zaps of electricity throughout his frame. Her... kindness, her loyalty to our cause, the care and concern she carries. Her... skills as a medic...

Ratchet returned your smile, his optics warm and his expression softer than usual. While placing a new plate to Sideswipe's ankle. "And... I have a pretty good intern."

"I noticed that." Ironhide's teasing tone whispered into the medic's audio receptors, while giving him a playful nudge.

"Noticed what?" A look of irritation sharpened Ratchet's expression. The usual gruff and sarcastic tone creeping back into his words.

The gun-metal Autobot simply rolled his optics, following the medic put away his tools. Briefly looking in your direction with a knowing smile, as Sideswipe carefully placed you back onto the ground. "The way you just looked at her. The look you'd give to... a sparkmate."

Ratchet felt his spark skip a beat at Ironhide's words, heat rose a little more to his faceplates, air almost getting stuck in within his vents. But he tried to shake it all off, schooling his expression to remain natural while giving his comrade a side glance. "Don't be ridiculous. I have no sparkmate..."

A frustrated sigh escaped Ironhide, "oh c'mon! Surely you've heard that every bot has a sparkmate waiting for them! That special someone created just for you, by Primus himself."

"Oh please, Ironhide. I thought you were more logical than to believe a romanticised idea such as that..." Ratchet briefly looked away from his comrade. "It's simply a myth-"

"Um... guys...?" your worried tone interrupted, causing both Autobot's to follow what you were pointing at. "Is the monitor screen supposed to be flashing red?"

A sickening feeling twisted the pits of your stomach, as fear flashed across the Autobot's expression. Their wide optics gazing at the screen as if the energon flowing through them suddenly turned cold. "What...? What's wrong?"

Ratchet's hunched form leaned over the console, a look of alarm forming upon his faceplates, optics widening in disbelief. Only a single word escaped from Ironhide, spitting it out almost as if the word itself tasted like poison upon his glossa.

"Decepticons..."

Tag List

@junebugessentials @genarf

[mouseycometz]

❓+❤️‍🩹 for Tfp Starscream!! -<3

❓ - "Is this what you want?"

❤️‍🩹 - Healing.

Ask Game

Solace

Warnings: Mentions of Trauma

Word Count: 590

In the berthroom, Starscream stirred from his half-stasis nap to the sound of a faint, meek cry. It was short but painful, something he came to recognize instantly. His wings twitched behind him as he blinked open his ruby optics, focusing on the girl who wept and shuddered on his chest. Her tummy was pressed to his plating, and her head was lowered. Sensing a familiar pattern, the mech straightened himself and gently stroked the back of her striped, pink nightshirt with a claw.

“Now, now, Little Mouse,” he said above her cries. “There is no need to fret. I’m here.”

He held a steady tone of voice, not wanting to worsen her episode. Using the point of his claw, he lifted her chin. Finally, he could see her luminous, green eyes. He frowned at her, empathizing with her anxiety.

“Was it…another nightmare?” 

Juniper sniffled and nodded, allowing his servos to grab her in a soft and tender hold. Starscream cupped her tiny body in his claws, never squeezing or tightening. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she attempted to keep her voice at a pitiful whisper.

“It was…Megatron. Again.”

Starscream paused, gritting his denta.

“The branding?”

A mark of loyalty. Thanks to Primus, the insignia was erased from her lower back, but she still felt the burn. 

Juniper glanced away from him, her red hair falling across her face.

“And…other things.”

For a moment, Starscream went quiet, not entirely sure if he should press her for more information. From what he learned of her, she was incredibly stubborn and tenacious. She was a fighter, and she never surrendered, even in the face of humans like Silas. At first, Starscream hated it. Eventually, however, he grew accustomed to it and even admired it. 

Nonetheless, her previous position as an ally to the Decepticons often left her nervous and vulnerable. It wasn’t her fault. Unlike the Decepticons themselves, she never asked for it. And Starscream felt terrible. After all, Megatron wasn’t the only one who played a part in her trauma. 

The mech brought her near his faceplate, lightly rubbing his helm against her forehead. He calmed her, speaking softly and encouragingly to her. As she cried, he found himself tearing up as well. 

“You have…nothing to fear when I’m around.” Starscream pressed a kiss to the side of her face. “I promise.”

‘Not even me,’ he thought. ‘Not anymore.’

He vowed it.

It took some time, but Juniper managed to settle in his embrace, her wails faltering to little sniffles. When the woman cuddled him, he brushed his claw over her tummy, staring past her clothes and into her skin, where the scar he created still resided. Forever. 

“Thank you.” Juniper hiccuped. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Starscream offered her a smile, remembering their past well.

“You may perish, just as I would without you.”

She smirked at him. He was proud to make her giggle, knowing that she would be fine. But then, Starscream felt something flicker inside his chest, and his gaze softened to display a hint of reluctance. 

“Juni?”

She rubbed her eyes.

“Yes?”

Starscream lowered his helm, lifting a claw for her to grab.

“Is this what you want?” He drew every word from his spark. “To stay here…with me?”

There was another nanosec of silence. And then, Juniper grabbed his claw and hugged him close.

“I do.” She kissed his digit. “I promise you, I do, Starscream.”

The Cybertronian closed his optics, feeling and treasuring the reassurance from her words and lips. 

Divider Credit: @/saradika

[asimp4bee]

Your oc's are so pretty do they accept hugs? :3

Yes they do :3 here's a little thing on how my ocs would hug you!

Mea Anderson

-No matter how short or taller you are than them, they will almost always wrap their arms around your waist

-Will either squeeze you or pat your back

Zia Torres

-She'll hold her arms out really wide open until you notice and hug her

-She'll either rest her head on your shoulder or she'll let you lay on her chest

Gab De Jesus

-Will pick you up a little when he goes in for a hug and squeezes you

-Very clingy hugging, a little nuzzle here and there

Voltage

-He'll pick you up into his servos and will hug you close

-You probably won't be let down for a while

Zodiac

-If you aren't close, at most you'll get a brief hug from him

-If you are close however, he'll cling to you for a little longer before letting go

Stormwave

-He'll say no at first, denying the fact that he actually does want a hug

-When you do hug him, he'll bury his faceplate onto your chest

Mayday

-Will eagerly accept your hugs

-She'll nuzzle you every once in a while

[kaeso4ka]

You're trying to seduce Optimus

Pairing: yandere! Optimus Prime x human reader

TW! a little sexual intercourse

Attempting to overheat Optimus number 1:

"So, you are given the task of…," Miko bit her tongue, reading into the fine print. "To seduce the first person who enters the premises for one week."

You hiccuped.

It would all be okay if you hadn't decided to play truth or action with Miko at the base.

And now you've been given one of the most idiotic assignments ever, but what an inappropriate one for the situation.

But duty cards - this is sacred, and to give up the task was beneath your dignity. Moreover, on the second side of the scale lay a question even more uncomfortable.

"The hell with you," you waved your hand, "I hope it's Ratchet and I have a lot of fun."

Of course, it wasn't anyone, it was Optimus fucking Prime. The mech greeted them with a slow nod, lingering his gaze on you.

You hiccupped once more.

"Well, I'll be the one having the fun now," Miko chuckled, pulling out her phone. "The week starts today. "

"You think I'm scared?" you undid the first few buttons of your shirt, exposing your shoulder. "Watch and learn. Optimus!"

Prime immediately responded, approaching the human platform. Being in a non-mass-shifted form, he had to lean heavily to get his faceplate level with your face.

"Is something wrong?" the fur's gaze no-no dropped to your unbuttoned shirt.

You didn't say anything, just moved closer to the railing and left a weightless kiss on Optimus's cheek.

"Nothing," you smiled enchantingly and slowly turned around, giving Optimus a better view, "just wanted to wish you a good day at work."

Miko popped a handful of popcorn into her mouth. The week promised to be interesting.

Attempting to overheat Optimus number 2:

You'd never think that seducing someone who was already head over heels in love with you would be so… Difficult.

No, you could walk up to Optimus and ask him to, for example, give you a lick. And he would have said yes, of course.

That was the problem. That's what Miko thought.

"Well, it's an assignment," the Japanese woman hummed. "It's not supposed to be easy. You have to, how shall I put it? Balancing on the edge, you know. But still seduce at the same time!"

You didn't know if you were happy about that or not.

Either way, day two came, and you had a new plan.

Attempt to overheat Optimus number 3:

When you arrived at the base, dressed in the bare minimum of clothing, the overload was almost experienced first by Ratchet and Jack.

You just waved the first and second away: you didn't have time for their lectures. But to lean in front of Optimus at the right moment: it was necessary to keep an eye on him.

Anyway, when Prime returned from his patrol, you had his undivided attention.

"Shall we go to the cliff?" you smile at Optimus, almost in reality hearing his gears speeding up. "They're promising warm weather this night. I want to freshen up."

Prime nods; his optics darken a couple of tones.

Miko chews popcorn meaningfully.

Optimus watches you try to overheat him, and holds on with the last of his strength:

Lately, Prime felt like he'd deactivated and gone to Paradise. Or, more likely, judging by Miko's meaningful wink, he had been led to Paradise.

For the first time in a long time, you were walking towards him yourself, open-mouthed and smiling.

"So, Big Boss?" Miko stretches out contentedly on the couch, throwing his leg over his foot. "And you said it wouldn't work. Card debt is sacred."

Optimus nods, but all his attention is undivided to the datapad he's holding in his manipulator. Just a few minutes ago, you 'accidentally' threw him a couple pictures, and oh, Optimus, Prime was ready to rip the eyes out of anyone else who might have seen those pictures.

"That's nothing," Miko grins, "you just make sure you hold out a little longer. Trust me: she's got more to show you."

Optimus doesn't know what else you can think of, but agrees that it's not worth interrupting you.

[grumpygreenwitch]

Machina Ex Machina 10-11

I do like to occasionally chuck quotes in from other places, just to amuse myself. There's three here, there's been one before.

As always, if you enjoy the writing, please like and reblog. There's no algorithms here; my publicity is you. And if you'd like to buy me a Ko-fi, I certainly won't complain.

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TEN

The program that came out of the dark was one only under the most cursory of examinations. Adas noticed that it was a kaleidoscope of circuitry, put badly together so it didn’t always create full, smooth pathways. It kept on cycling through hues, as if it couldn’t decide what sort of energy it was carrying, or what goals and emotions motivated it.

GAM noticed their half-formed attackers weren’t attacking it. He punched one, kicked another and barreled through a third, accepting a rain of haphazard rakes and blows on his armor just so he could get to Adas and Vidi.

Vidi was staring at the new program, her face frozen in horror. “What are you?” she breathed.

“An em-em-emergency count-t-t-termeas-measure,” the program replied.

“You’re not real,” Vidi shot back breathlessly. “You’re pieces of people.” She could see what the others could not, that the program didn’t have a disk on its back, but it had broken shards of several disks embedded everywhere on its person.

“Yes,” the program agreed readily. “What-what. Whatever was handy. To do the j-j-the job.”

“Worm,” GAM ground out, everything in him recognizing the enemy he’d been programmed since his inception to face.

“GAM, don’t -!” Vidi whirled around, trying to stop the Sentry, afraid that giving the program a name would give it the solidity it didn’t yet have.

“Virus.”

“Am I?” The program looked at itself. The more it spoke and interacted, the more refined it became, limbs in the right places, body parts the right size. It made the shattered lines of its circuitry all the more obvious. “I sup-suppose I am.” It looked up at them, and the colors of its eyes stopped whirling through the spectrum. “A virus.”

It leveled a virulently yellow gaze on them all. The color bled down over its body. “A virus to d-do the job.” It pointed at GAM. “You keep-keep-keep getting in m-m-m-m-m. You are. in. my way.”

“Run,” GAM said simply.

Suddenly his shield was in his hands and he led the way, using it as a battering ram to mow down the simulacra, not caring if they clawed at the shield or at his armor as he forcibly opened up an escape route. They sprinted for the lightrunner. Behind them, the worm shrieked in a dozen different voices, and the awkward copies of itself that seemed to be all it could manifest peppered the three programs’ path, pulling themselves hastily into existence, but not fast enough to stop them.

“Go, go, go!” he shouted at them as they reached the vehicle at last. Vidi dove into the backseat, Adas into the passenger’s seat. GAM slid over the hood and scrambled into the driver’s seat even as the GO4 opened up every commline on her faceplate. “All active Ilo communication lines, I repeat, this is a Class-1 Alert, there is a virus loose in Ilo, I repeat, there is a virus loose in Ilo. All programs are to retreat beyond city limits. I repeat, retreat, retreat, retreat. Abandon the city at once. All active Ilo communication lines, I repeat -”

GAM hit the speed boost on the racer and the vehicle surged forward, tires whistling helplessly for a moment. A veritable wall of simulacra was shambling towards them but the lightrunner’s tires, made for rougher terrain than a city street, caught and launched them forward roughly enough to make them bounce in the seats.

“Vidi!” GAM risked a look back, but the courier was curled up in a rocking ball, making frightened little disconnection sounds. “Vidi, are you hurt?”

“No,” she whispered. “No, I’m fine.”

“Adas?”

The GO4 gave him a thumbs up, never stopping her broadcast. Outside, alarms began to wail and echo through the ruins of Ilo for the second time.

“It was made of people,” Vidi wheezed.

“What?”

“It was made of people, GAM, it was made of all the dead people.” She hugged herself tighter. “All the bits and pieces of their disks. Why would someone do that, why?”

GAM focused on driving them out of Ilo as fast as he dared.

Yes, What-what. Whatever was handy. To do the j-j- the job.

Viruses were, by their very nature, unpredictable. Every city had had its encounters with them, every security program knew what the protocols were, even if they amounted to ‘there is no protocol, contain and raze’. But nothing GAM had ever been taught could explain how a virus could simply gather up bits and pieces of the dead and come alive from them. There were many ways in which a program could come online, but all of them required outside input.

He followed that thought to its inexorable conclusion, and found an answer he didn’t like at all. “WallSec, can anyone hear me?” he called out into his own helm, even though he knew he was too far from Halcyon to reach. Only silence answered him.

The lightrunner suddenly rocked on its tires, bouncing sideways, and an immense piece of debris went flying by its side, close enough that if GAM had reached out he could have touched it. Vidi screamed. Adas stopped broadcasting her warning and curled up in her seat. The Sentry fought the vehicle back under control and deployed the off-road cleats, willing to sacrifice speed for stability. “Vidi, tell me how it’s throwing those at us.”

She made an unhappy sound but uncurled herself and peeked out of the rearview window. “From above, they’re coming from abov- watch out!”

GAM swerved sharply, and a piece of a building a little bigger than the runner slammed on the pavement before them, leaving a massive crater before shattering into smaller pieces and brief splashes of primal matter. The lightrunner crested a hill of rubble, crashed back down onto the horizontal on the other side, and surged forward.

“Strap in,” he told them tersely as he threw the runner into overdrive. “This isn’t going to be pleasant.”

The standard Grid lightrunner was made to conquer every sort of terrain. It was an Outlands exploratory vehicle, designed to both go where no program had gone before, and to defend itself and its passengers, violently if necessary. But that had been the two-passenger baseline. The canopied model the three of them were currently riding had been heavily modified with the comfort of its passengers in mind. Forced to do its original job, it bucked and jumped angrily, leapt awkwardly onto the other side of a river of wreckage, and landed so jarringly Vidi bounced on the back seat and nearly crashed into the canopy. Both she and the GO4 scrambled to secure themselves to their seats as the Sentry urged the vehicle forward.

The virus didn’t bother chasing them. Past its initial fury at being balked, it accepted readily that its goals couldn’t be so easily achieved. Some part of it knew that these… difficulties were as they must be, because they had been so before. It didn’t know why it knew such things, but it knew them, and knew them to be true.

Instead it sank once again into the substance of the ruined city all around it, leaving fractals of ugly yellow all over the place where it had been. It knew that it meant such a place was damaged, perhaps beyond recovery, but it didn’t care. From that same unknown, innate well of knowledge came the certainty that whatever it was damaging wasn’t real, so it didn’t matter.

It found a pipeline, empty and cold, and raced along it as energy once had. In places the pipe was absent, shattered beyond usefulness, and in such spots it simply forced its way through the very substance of the world around it. For not being real, it was usefully solid.

But quick as the virus was, its prey was quicker. It had wheels, and an engine, and an ample though limited supply of energy. Catching them before they abandoned the limits of the city was looking more and more unlikely and that, it knew, was bad. Leaving the city would reveal its presence. Revealing itself was bad.

Why?

It had no answer to that question, only certainty, and that… irritated it somewhat. Knowledge was one thing, one could accept knowledge as a given thing. But lack of knowledge was potentially dangerous. An unanswered question might jeopardize its mission. Still, it had no time to dwell on it at the moment.

A number of simulacra received instructions. It saw the first immense boulder that they picked up and lobbed at the vehicle, but it paid no further attention; instead it detoured toward another building, crafting simulacra ahead of it as it went. It wanted to make copies, full copies, useful allies, siblings that would share in its purpose and dedication, but something in the very fabric of the world all around it wouldn’t allow it to do so. For something not real, it was proving very contrary.

Why?

The simulacra would have to do until it could figure out what was going amiss with the duplication process. It flowed up the top of the building, a shattered habitat tower already leaning precariously to one side. As it reformed at the top, it could see the two-pronged attack on the vehicle of its target, the sundry boulders it was being bombarded with as well as the growing tide of simulacra trying to close in on it. It considered, and its extensions suddenly began to drop to four limbs. Their speed and agility improved instantaneously. Hm, four tires were indeed better than two. “You c-ca-can-can-cannot. You cannot hide. her. from me forever, sec-sec-securit-t-t-ty,” it said calmly into the dark.

It was hard, finding the right sequence of sounds through so many shattered libraries, but its memory was made up of fragments anyway, of bits and pieces of code that had never been its own to begin with. Here and there it could sense something that had bound them together, but it had been an imperfect joining. It had been made quickly, not precisely. There had been no care in its creation; it could tell, just by comparing those binding bits with the larger, intact shards lodged in its being.

Why?

The building swayed dangerously. The simulacra tore at what few foundations and structural pillars still remained at its base. Several of the creatures were crushed; none seemed to care. Atop it, the virus was untroubled. It knew that a fall, a crush, a great many things could not kill it, could barely hurt it. It had been created to endure, and spread, and fulfill two simple objectives.

Inside the lightrunner, Vidi cringed at what her eyes were telling her. “GAM, the building!”

“What building?” the Sentry asked tersely. All of his attention was focused on avoiding the flying pieces of Ilo being cast at him from every conceivable angle while still keeping the vehicle headed directly for the ramp leading out of the city. He could see in the rearview mirrors that the virus’ creations had shifted to a quadrupedal stance, and while they weren’t quite keeping up with the runner just yet, they were getting there, evolving and improving at phenomenal speeds.

Adas all but crawled into his lap to look out his window. “Oh, no,” she whispered, and pointed. “They’re trying to collapse the central habitat on Sector 95.”

GAM risked the barest of looks, simply because if both of the programs with him though it was a danger that needed to be pointed out, he could only trust them. He saw the building swaying, saw the brilliant, poisonous yellow dot atop it, and did a quick calculation in his helmet. If that building fell, it would block their way out of the city. If they had to turn around, they might never get away; the flawed duplicates were learning to run faster than the lightrunner way too quickly.

That was the problem, wasn’t it? The virus wasn’t just a worm. It was also a program, a full-fledged creature of the Grid. It was learning as it went, and everything they did to balk it, it found a way to circumvent. If it thought collapsing the building wasn’t going to work, it would find something else to throw at them, literally and metaphorically, and that time they might not see it coming.

GAM stayed the course.

“WallSec?” Vidi asked in timid fright from the backseat.

“GAM?” Adas’ voice was a little more urgent.

“Do you trust me?”

They were both silent. Then they both strapped back into their seats. “Did you know this was gonna happen?” Vidi demanded from the back. “Is that why you were so twitchy?”

“I knew we were bringing a heavy active-process-memory program into a wasteland with not enough other programs to camouflage her presence,” he replied. “I was afraid something was going to happen.” He swerved wildly, barely missing a chunk of debris the size of a sailer cargo container that nearly sent the lightrunner spinning like a top. “This was not part of my predictions, though,” he admitted through gritted teeth. “Adas, open up that panel,” he directed, one finger pointing at the central dash.

She obeyed instantly. The lightrunner’s structural circuitry flashed and gleamed.

“Put your hand in, up to your elbow. Any further than that and your fingers are going to find the engine, and no one’s going to like that meeting.”

She gave him a horrified look. “I’m not -!”

Vidi scrambled forward between the two of them and began to worm her arm into the space.

“Just shy of your elbow!” GAM said hastily before explaining. “Your arm’s longer.”

“Alright,” the courier agreed, her voice shaking. “Am I looking for something in particular?”

“It’s a small, long cylinder, specs to follow. It’s connected in four places along its length to a larger block. Don’t touch the block.” The numbers flashed on the black faceplate, well aware that a few dreadlocks had turned to stare at him.

Most of Vidi’s eyes, however, were focused on the open dash, looking past it, at the innards of the lightrunner. The courier wriggled forward a little more. “Got it! What am I doing with it?”

“When I tell you, yank it out.”

The lightrunner raced on. The building the simulacra were attacking suddenly faltered, tremors racing through the entirety of its remaining structure. At ground level, pillars and supports snapped, cracked and shattered, and the immense structure began to fall.

“GAM!” Adas cried out.

The Sentry tucked his head minutely to one side, the falling building growing larger on the blackness of his faceplate. He had to time it perfectly. He couldn’t give the virus a shot at something else. Out in the Outlands they’d be as impossible to find as a Stray in a crowd, even for the strange monster.

The building began to accelerate as its mass came into the grip of different variables that those which had held it upright.

GAM saw his chance. “Now!”

Vidi yanked. Simultaneously, the Sentry shut down the all-terrain cleats. The lightrunner surged forward, and then accelerated with an unhappy, screeching wail, half the systems on its dash going red. GAM didn’t care; ahead of him he could finally make out the ramp leading out of Ilo. The virus-mimics fell back, unable to keep up with the sudden burst of speed of their prey.

Vidi fell backwards onto the backseat, clutching onto the small cylinder she’d just removed. From her vantage point, through the runner’s canopy, she could see the building falling down on them as if the sky itself were crashing down. She couldn’t do anything, say anything; she stared, every eye fixed on that swiftly-closing doom.

And then she was looking at empty sky, at directional vectors and high-altitude data-lines, the distant markers of the upper limits of the Grid. Some people said they ought to put cities there, habitats and whatnot, that it was wasted space. She liked it like that, empty and vast and full of potential and, at the moment, empty of falling buildings and horrible half-formed quasi-programs and viruses made up of dead people.

The falling building thundered down, creating a massive ripple on the structure of the city and causing a minor shockwave that lifted the rear end of the lightrunner off the road, but the little vehicle was past it, away, untouchable. It skid into the ramp with a howl; GAM threw on the all-terrain cleats once again and got them out of the drift, and they were gone, out of Ilo and into the Outlands.

The virus reformed itself at the bottom of the ramp, watching the lights of its prey dwindle in size in the dark. “Well,” it said. Its simulacra clustered around it, awaiting further instructions. “Well played, sec-sec-security,” it murmured, before it turned to them. “There are-are others in th-the city. B-b-b-bring-bring them to me.”

If it could not make appropriate replicas of itself to help with its tasks, well, it would have to make do with what was at hand once again.

ELEVEN

They stopped once the scarce lights of Ilo had faded. GAM drove them far enough off the road that a few rolling hills would keep them from being easily detected, and dragged out a small Wrench from a discreet compartment inside the lightrunner. With it he opened up the engine.

Vidi surrendered the cylinder without a single protest. “What is it?”

“Limiter,” he explained as he bent over to examine the engine for damage. “It’s a city vehicle. It’s loaned out fairly regularly. It’s so city vehicles cannot be taken out for a joyride.” He secured the cylinder back in place with the Wrench, inwardly glad that he’d damaged nothing that the limited-use emergency Wrench and his even more limited knowledge of mechanical systems couldn’t fix.

“You are literally so dedicated to not having fun that you put speed limiters on government vehicles.” Vidi’s tone was utterly dry.

“And right now you’re very glad we do,” he countered mildly.

She made a face at his back and turned away, huddling against the side of the runner for a moment before straightening up again. “Wait, why are you putting it back, anyway? What if we have to get away from that thing again?”

“Because without a limiter of any kind, I can force the runner to go as fast as I want to -”

“Exactly!”

“- up to and including burning the engine out accidentally.”

She threw her arms up and made a highly exasperated sound at him before slumping against the vehicle once again. On the passenger seat, Adas was still trying to contact anyone who might be listening; GAM had even given her the public frequencies used for other Halcyonites to contact either WallSec or CitySec. Eventually, with a tired sigh, she stopped trying. Her faceplate folded away, to the sides of her face, and she rubbed wearily at it.

“Nothing?” Vidi asked quietly.

Adas shook her head. “Nothing. I can hear the traffic control from the high-altitude lines, but those are all automated. And there’s some weird little tune repeating in one high-frequency channel, but with a virus loose I don’t want to interact with anything that’s not talking like a proper program.”

Vidi nodded. It sounded sensible. GAM closed up the lightrunner’s hood. “What now?” she asked him.

He paused on his way to the driver’s side. “I think you’re asking the wrong program. I’m just the driver.”

Adas, her face in her hands, looked up abruptly. “We need to get word of the virus out, so no one runs into it.” She buried her face in her hands once again with a despairing, exhausted little sound before she pummeled the dash with an angry fist. “How. How did that thing get loose in Ilo? The Spirestorm wasn’t enough?” He blew out a sharp breath. “Vidi, I am so, so, sorry.”

“Uh… ok?” The courier replied uncertainly.

“If I’d known you were going to be at risk, I would’ve never asked.”

“Oh, pffft. If that’s the problem, he’s the one that owes me an apology. He knew something was gonna happen.”

“I suspected something might,” GAM had frozen at the door to the driver’s seat. “I had no proof and no guarantee, and I was certainly not expecting the hack to get desperate.”

“Desperate?” Vidi blinked at him.

“Desperate how?” Adas came out of the vehicle to stare at him.

GAM put the emergency Wrench back in its discreet little compartment and straightened up to look at them. “The virus.”

“You think whatever’s behind the Spirestorm’s created that thing?”

“I think it’s a reasonable conclusion. Programs don’t spring up out of nowhere. We all have a cause, a source, an inception. Every program alive, even Strays, have both a source and a reason to exist.”

“No, they don’t,” Vidi shot back at once. “Not every program.”

“Every program. That reason might not be evident to everyone, maybe not even to the program in question, but there are two things that define every program on the grid.” He lifted a hand to count. “They have a source and they have a reason.”

“No they don’t!” Vidi retorted. “Not every program has a source, or a reason, or both. Some just… are.”

The Sentry shifted minutely, his tone amused. “I don’t agree. Even you have both.”

“Whoa, hey!” Adas jerked in surprise at the sudden singling out of the courier. “That’s kind of mean, why wouldn’t she.”

“It’s not mean, it’s fact,” he replied evenly. “She’s a Gridborn.”

Vidi’s mouth worked emptily for a few moments. “You… How…”

“When I first met you, your hair attacked me. Twice. I kept trying to see the connection point between it and your body. I kept thinking it was a Cosmetic, or a patch. But your hair’s not the attachment, your body is.”

Vidi recoiled as if he’d threatened her. “Customers… don’t like it when you look so different.” She huffed. “And I needed somewhere to put the soukscan.”

“And first-gen Cosmetics are cheap, even the permanent ones,” he added mildly.

“But what does it matter, what you look like? A program’s a program,” Adas protested.

“Yeah, on this side of the Sea,” Vidi explained, exasperated. “In Flow and Ark they think I’m some sort of freak.”

Adas gasped in empathetic offense.

Vidi faced off the Sentry once again. “And I may have a source, I mean, in theory, if you want to get philosophical about it, but I sure don’t have a purpose, do I.”

“You do,” he argued with implacable calm. “You might not know it, no one might know it, but you do.”

“You are -! How long have you even known?!”

“Long enough.”

“I’m going to throw something at you!”

“Out of what, your virtual stockpile of intangible blueprints?”

“Wait, wait. Is that what the Spirestorm’s after? Gridborns? Because your tags and parameters are flexible?” Adas paused. “Your storage’s flexible! You could have kept me there scavenging for decacycles!” she cried out indignantly.

“Uh…” Vidi squirmed minutely. “I mean, you didn’t really put a good limit on it?”

GAM crossed his arms on the canopy of the lightrunner and watched Adas verbally assault Vidi. At least the courier had the good grace to look somewhat sheepish at what were, to be fair, very valid accusations. Some part of him felt selfishly vindicated.

Another pointed out that the wind had picked up.

The Sentry was used to receiving incongruous data. There were a lot of sensors built into his armor, and his wavelength had a minor, everpresent awareness that feed him data regarding his immediate environment on a constant stream. Mostly he ignored it.

But the situation was precarious enough that he turned his attention away from the squabble to look all around. There was a breeze, yes, where moments ago there had been nothing. But why was that important?

He cast all his senses out, and found nothing. That was nowhere near as reassuring as it ought to have been. “We should go,” he called out. His instincts were screaming that they’d been still too long.

Adas and Vidi both turned to look at the Sentry, and found him standing pillar-still, head tipped up, the edges of him almost impossible to see against the darkness of the Outlands all around him. If not for the violet circuitry, he’d have been less than a shadow.

“GAM?” Vidi asked timidly.

“Get -” His head whipped around; he’d detected a whistling sound coming at them at the sort of speed that was usually reserved for missile weapons.

He had likely picocycles to react, and he had to react accurately. The target couldn’t be Adas, she was too close to Vidi, and the hack wanted the courier alive. It couldn’t be him, it was near impossible to catch a Sentry by surprise with long-range weapons, everyone knew that.

He leapt over the hood of the lightrunner and yanked the two other programs with him. “Run, run!” He let go of Vidi; he had faith in her sense of self-preservation. One hand free, he grabbed for his baton, and deployed his shield.

An immense construction grappler came out of the dark. It was a massive five-pronged device the size of a lightcycle, a combination physical claw and gravimetric snare universally used by construction crews to deal with all the requirements of their job. It was coming at them as if it had been launched out of one of Pevir’s railguns, and it slammed into the side of the lightrunner, partially carving a rut in the terrain before striking.

The vehicle went airborne at the sheer force of the impact, spinning upside down wildly, massive gouts of primal matter coming off it. It landed once and bounced violently up, a twisted wreck too big to fully derezz, whirling on every axis.

We won’t make it, GAM realized abruptly. He’d dropped his guard, comfortable in the company of programs he trusted. He’d forgotten the very real danger hunting after them. And now, unless he did something, they were all going to pay for it. He shoved Vidi forcefully, sending the courier stumbling into the terrain, spun, caught the back of Adas’ robes, and threw her away from the incoming wreck as hard as he could. The GO4 squealed in uncomprehending shock.

The Sentry dropped to one knee, put his shield up and braced himself.

The crushed lightrunner slammed into him, and he might as well have been trying to stop a sailer going full speed. Pieces of the terrain flew everywhere, blank voxels cascading into the air and back to the ground, pummeling the other two programs where they’d fallen. The runner slid, rolled, rocked, and came to a halt close enough to Adas to illuminate the fallen actuarial with its flickering, failing lights.

In the sudden, abrupt silence filled only with the gusting wind, when GAM cried out in pain the sound went through both his companions like the shock of grabbing a data-line.

“GAM!” Adas picked herself up first. She got as far as her knees before she caught sight of the Sentry and came to a dead stop, horrified.

GAM was pinned under the wreckage, primal matter dripping on him, carving sizzling runnels in his armor and into the body beneath, wounding him one burning voxel at a time. His faceplate had shattered and several circuitry paths had been ripped apart, going dark. And still he had put both hands on the wreck and was heaving desperately against it.

Adas scrambled to his side. “GAM!” She stood up and pulled at the runner. She might as well have been trying to budge the Grid itself.

“Adas, run,” he gritted out. Without the filters of his helmet, he sounded oddly young, desperately in pain.

“Vidi!” Adas screamed.

The courier leaped over the ruined vehicle. “No!” she gasped at the sight that welcomed her. Blindly, instinctively, she joined Adas efforts.

“No! Run!” he wheezed at them. Part of the terrain the wreck had landed on collapsed, and he howled in agony when the lightrunner further dropped on him.

Vidi stopped trying to fight a battle none of them were going to win. Instead she stepped back, her hair flaring up like a brilliant halo, scanning the ruin of the vehicle. Abruptly she scrambled over the wreck, yanking at a section of it. “Adas, help me!”

Adas didn’t hesitate. She climbed after the courier, slipped her hands into the seam Vidi was fighting, and pulled. Abruptly, what had once been one of the runner’s doors crashed open. Vidi went down on her face on the wreck; Adas slid right off it with a squeal, next to GAM. She looked up just in time to see the Gridborn squirm into the wreck.

“No!” GAM hissed at her. “No. Go. Get out! Before they get here!”

“We’re not leaving you. I’m not leaving you!” She took off her outermost robe, leaving her in the basic last-gen form-fitting uniform, and shoved it between him and whatever the dripping, destructive primal matter was.

Vidi suddenly landed next to them. “Something’s coming,” she hissed.

“Then get your plan working fast,” Adas replied.

Vidi’s face set to stone as her hair swept back and forth over the wreck. A couple of eyes blinked warnings and she scurried forward. When she found the right spot, she pressed the emergency Wrench to it and twisted. A chunk of the lightrunner came loose with the Wrench and she shoved it aside. Consciously removed, it didn’t derezz, but at least it was a little less weight on the WallSec.

“Why does it have to be so complex!” she snarled quietly as she fought to reconcile her previous memory of the lightrunner’s blueprint with the twisted tangle of lines in front of her eyes. “Four wheels and a go-box. That’s all it needs. But no, you gotta put in fifty other systems and your stupid limiters and a dozen other bits and pieces in the way -”

Her hands and the Wrench flew along as fast as her eyes could pinpoint weak spots, loose joinings, pieces that could be quickly and easily removed. She had to kick one particular bit until it crashed aside, nearly falling on her. She raced back and forth, taking the lightrunner apart guided only by desperation, memory and her eyes. The first time the machine wrenched upward, even if it was only a breath, she could have screamed in joy.

Adas dragged over a twisted piece left behind and shoved it in the gap to one side of GAM, did the same on the other side, and rushed back to kneel by him. “GAM? Still here?”

“Still,” he admitted, his voice strained and full of pain. “I’m getting used to no one doing what I tell them,” he added.

She couldn’t help but laugh a little through her panic. “You’re too sensible. No one ever wants to listen to sensible programs.”

“I’ve noticed.” He tried all the same. “You need to go. You need to run. The range on the magnetic conveyor that launched that claw isn’t good. They’ll be here soon.”

“We’re not leaving you.” Vidi slid over the wreckage, yanked loose a pipe, threw it aside and ran off.

“I thought only Pevir had magnetic weaponry.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But this wasn’t a weapon before.” The lightrunner abruptly budged upward another breath or so, and he let out a strangled sound of pain, but his hands never stopped pressing up.

Adas found more debris to shove under the vehicle. “What is it, then?”

“Adas, it’s the virus,” he turned to stare at her. Past the shattered helm, he was young, male, with dark skin and bright, luminous eyes as violet as his circuitry - he was Halcyonite to his core. His features were sharp and strong, and tiny voxels were trickling from a gouge just under one of his eyes. “It’s a construction rig. They repurposed their conveyor, like me taking the limiter out of the runner. It learned that from me. And then it took any program, any vehicle it could catch in Ilo. And now they’ve found us, and they’re all coming here. You have to r- ”

Vidi suddenly dropped next to them. “That’s all we get. They’re here.”

They both peeked over the wreck. A bit of a way away, a construction heavy skiff was hovering over the spot where the grappler had originally hit the lightrunner. Bright spotlights were sweeping over the grappler and the terrain, erratic but very obviously searching for something that wasn’t there. A grappling cable was coming down to secure the grappler. The skiff’s antigrav programming was focused on parallel plates running along its sides, creating twin dust storms underneath it – the cause of the light breeze GAM’s instincts had sensed in that weatherless part of the Grid.

The entire ship was a vitriolic, poisonous yellow.

“I didn’t think normal viruses could take machines,” Adas breathed.

“What about this thing is normal,” Vidi shot back quietly. She cast around until she found the pipe, shoved it under the wreck, and leaned on it with all her weight.

GAM bit down on a scream as the lightrunner shuddered and slid. Adas took back her robes, twisted them into a makeshift rope and secured them around his arms. She nodded at Vidi, who repositioned the pipe and shoved as hard as she could.

“Go!” GAM managed to grind out, almost inaudibly, and Adas yanked, dragging him out, back and free. Free of the wreck, the damage he’d taken was even more terrifying.

“Vidi, my baton. There’s a… there’s a crawler.”

She found it, but Adas was closer. The GO4 snatched it up and, unwilling to touch him just in case it should hurt him even more, secured it to her person. “We’re not leaving you. Come on. On your feet. We are Halcyonite programs and we are currently in danger.”

“Yeah, time to do your job, WallSec.” Even as Vidi joined in verbally harrying him, she and Adas struggled to get him up. It was Spire’s odds that his legs were still working, but security programs were usually built tough beyond belief.

“She’s not. You’re… not.” He bit back, badly, several sounds of pain, but he helped them wrangle him upright, folding back the useless helm and leaning heavily on both of them. His hair was black, very short and threaded with more violet. One leg was working; the other was dark all the way up to mid-thigh. “You’re in Halcyon… illegally.”

Vidi gasped at Adas. “No way!”

“I am a visiting diplomatic envoy!” She was entirely too glad to indulge the harmless accusation if it would help keep him from derezzing. She glanced at his back and blew a heavy sigh of relief: his disk was battered but in one piece. Slowly, they began to shuffle directly away from the distant, yellow lights of the skiff.

In a moment, the only light was their own, which made it terrifyingly plain how badly damaged GAM was. Until that point, whenever they were together, his was the most brilliant bit of circuitry on their combined spectrum, and a potent component of soothing calm on their combined wavelength. All of that was gone, leaving behind only the white and blue tones of Adas and Vidi, and the whirling mix of their worry and his pain.

Behind them, they heard the skiff begin to winch the grappler up. “We have to move faster,” GAM ground out.

“We’re going as fast as we can, I think,” Adas strained to reply. He wasn’t just taller than both of them, he was infinitely more solid, a giant slab of a program. Unsurprising for a security program, but not very helpful at the moment.

“Move where?” Vidi gritted out. “We’re in the middle of nowhere!”

“Not… nowhere,” he managed, and nodded.

They both looked up. Faint and distant, Parnassus’ lights cascaded up into the sky, thin white tendrils driven up as if in unseen currents, reaching so far that it seemed as if they might touch the other side of the sky.

“Do you think he’ll help?” Vidi asked.

“We don’t have a choice,” Adas replied firmly. “And I won’t give him one either.”

“But we have to move faster,” GAM persisted. “The skiff’s slower than the worm. And it’s got… it’s got arms.”

Reminded of the uncanny, half-formed and broken mimicries of itself the virus seemed able to extrude at will, all three of them did their best to make haste along the terrain. “You are so heavy, WallSec!” Vidi protested.

“I did say -”

“You say to leave you behind one more time and I will throw something at you.” She brandished the emergency Wrench on her free hand.

He managed a wan little smile at that. When something glitched and scraped somewhere in the darkness behind them, his expression set to stone. “Don’t look, keep moving.”

Adas reached behind her and grabbed her disk with her free hand.

“You’re surprisingly handy with that,” GAM noted, “for an actuarial program.”

“So I watch a lot of the matches at Pevir, so sue me. Everyone needs a hobby,” she bristled defensively.

“I’m not complaining,” he admitted.

“Neither am I,” Vidi chirped in.

[cuprohastes]

The Trouble with Pebbles (3!)

Part Threeth

Previously on "Days of our Graak"

Dave the Human has taken up an offer to be Dave the Atrix, mostly for the chance to be a brat and access to that sweet sweet moss.

Cat Fantastic is discovering that the big exciting non Atrix world sucks in new and unticipated ways, but he has acquired a new Aunt Dave.

Dave The Human is displaying oddly maternal behaviour... what could this mean? It means Dave's not an ass.

The Von Neuman Space Squids are not learning to sing and still aren't in this story.

EVA 43 and the Most Dangerous human are eating mozarella sticks and arguing over which was better: 21st Century Superman, or Post Contact Superman. They also aren't in this story.

Gondy, Rax and Garfield are starting to wonder AITA?

O'Patel and Big Ma are surfing a diplomatic incident wave and cackling with glee: Also they're about to ask Dave the Atrix A Question...

Dave the Atrix twitched in a way that Dave the Human had come to associate with an incoming call making a bunch of tech gadgets go into vibrate mode.

Dave pulled his tablet out, unfolded it and picked up the call - It was Big Ma, his nominal superior now he'd defected to the Big Purple Lizard Team.

"Hang on..." he muttered and flipped down his UV Visor. "Atrix" he said and flashed his name pattern.

In the background, he could hear O'Patel absolutely losing it at the expression Ma pulled. Her display skin was doing the Atrix equivalent of the spinning beachball.

O'Patel leaned into frame. "Say, Dave, would you like your registered Atrix name back?" he asked.

"Oh... sure!" said Dave the Atrix Phalanges Mitten, known troublemaker, shortarse and interspecies drag performer.

"Oh yes... PRIME DAVE!" squeaked Dave The Human doign a victory dance. "Last Dave standing. Squeap!".

"Is that Dave?" asked O'Patel.

"No this is Phalanges." said Dave.

"Not you!" O'Patel responded and so Phalanges held up Cat.

"In that case, you mean Cat Fantastic?" he said, mostly to introduce his Little Guy's new name.

"Oh, good name" said Ma somewhat enviously, having recovered form the novelty of Dave having suddenly acquired a comically robotic Atrix communicator. "If you don't want it..."

"Graak!" Cat said.

"Understandable." Ma said, and Dave leaned in and said "That's what I said too!"

"I'm the big boss. And so's O'Patel." she added in response to Cat's entirely reasonable query. "OK Atrix, take care of each other and check in soon. This is a weird scenario and we have a lot of people suddenly either worrying, yelling that this shouldn't be allowed, or asking really bizarre questions."

"Had to get the space broom out." said O'Patel which gave Phalanges and Dave an indicator of what some of those queries had been.

The Space broom is the metaphorical item used to beat back wannabe horny alienfuckers. The fact that Atrix are about as asexual as you can get while still having a natural reproduction rate, and basically do not have anything that a human could recognise as genitals has not stopped anyone, including a small community of Tsin, three Wallandernook, and a really weird artist colony of Atrix who are collectively keeping the entire Atrix Erotica industry ticking along: from cranking out staggering amounts of Atrix interspecies romance and erotica novelettes to audio books. The question is less: "Why are you making this?" and more who is buying these things?

Meanwhile in another part of the Station...

Rax is carrying a tray of purple breadrolls, dips and fill-ins. Un-Named Male is in Garfield's pouch, and Gondy is carrying the drinks.

"Are we... the bad guys?" wonders Gondy.

Gondy had been hit in the faceplate with debris months earlier and the partial decompression had blinded her in one eye and caused her face to develop some nasty crack pattern scars.

The possibly Human EVA Maintenance specialist that everyone referred to as 43 had hauled ass out of the medical wing, yanked open an airlock with no concern for his/her own safety and dragged Gondy in out of a hard vacuum.

They'd basically walked it off, and recovered within weeks while Gondy had needed her eye reconstructing and still had scars months later.

Rax had been Gondy's Little Guy and had promptly left her pouch and started stuffing their face... which by human standards is a Douche Move.

But from an Atrix point of view it meant Gondy only had to look after herself, and besides, now Rax, rapidly putting on mass, was always on hand to help out and keep up Gondy's social obligations, if not her work: Not the Asshole.

And now all four are lurking in Garf's cabin, which is more or less a single room with storage and a ton of more or less free range mosses, ferns, decorative fungus, and a place for someone with a tail to sprawl out or sit with friends.

"I mean..." says Rax, in Atrix, half spoken, half displayed. "... in ways that can be discussed, we have been which has been mentioned?"

"In ways that can be discussed and measured." Garf says. "And it shames us. It has shamed us all"

Gondy says, "That which is known and considered. We could have done better by them that is faceless. It is to the faceless human's credit that she accepted a token of bonding."

"Graak" says Un-Named male, being a little coarse. Garf passes him the mushroom and spinach and the little guy hollows out a purple roll and starts filling it. "Grak."

Everyone flickers their colours and ponders food, apart form Un-Named male who's somewhat pithy commentary has rather clarified the matter.

"Insofar as that goes, I am in agreement. We cannot, now, have done better in the past, in a retroactive manner. But we can do better at this time and at times future." says Garf, and Rax, being the second youngest polls the vibe and says, "... how?"

"That remains to be seen." mutters Gondy around a mouthful of purple roll and tomato pesto.

That night

Actually it's kind of day but Phalanges works the night shift when there's less people and a lot of the station's life support can be sequentially taken out of service and tested or maintained without having to put a memo out for everyone to hold their bowels for an hour.

Dave's sacked out in bed, rolled up in a duvet. The room's dark with just a little ambient light, a comfortable 16c.

He's set Cat up with a pillow, the laundry bag and the fuzzy blanket that they've been using because Phalanges doens't have a pouch the way a big Atrix does.

Cat is, despite these kindnesses, miserable.

It's way too dark, it smells funny and alien. Cat normally sleep in a comfy little hollow lined with various live plants. This laundry bag is... weird. It's floppy it's too roomy, it moves too much when he tries to lean up against it.

The fur is a weird unsettling texture and the air is just a little too dry. And it's cold.

Frankly Cat is dreading having to use the bathroom again, or deal with weird human notions of scale.

Cat's really wondering why they thought quitting the Atrix community was a smart idea.

Admittedly it was a community that hadn't wanted him and made it dishearteningly clear: One which had been making his life miserable by ostracising him for his entire life, no matter how much effort he put in to co-parenting the hatchlings, maintaining the garden or generally trying to be friendly.

Not having the display skin across his cheeks and forehead just made them all turn their back.

And then... something magical had happened. He'd woken up and found The Best Rock, tucked into his arms as he slept. he'd hidden it well and pondered. None of the other Atrix Of Size would take him, even for this unbelievable, magical treasure. And if he tried he'd lose it to someone within short order.

And then someone had reminded him that technically, for whatever reason, Dave the Human - everyone's good old Aunt Human - had been officially an Atrix Of Size. Even if they were only half the bigness of a real Atrix.

So Cat had taken the opportunity. Anything had to be better than the casual dismissal and hurt... right?

Well not so much. And now Cat is cold and scared and blind and realising they may have just made their life so much worse.

Cat finally falls asleep, exhausted, whimpering softly.

Cat is asleep. He's dreaming of a stony plain: There's no sun, no comforting moss to hide in, and in the distance he can just see everyone walking away, leaving him. No matter how hard he's trying to keep up: The ground is sucking the heat out of him, and the rocks are sharp. If he's left he'll die. There's nothing to hide under from the remorseless, cruel sky, nothing to eat, no cool water. They finally just... left him.

But then the cruel ground vanishes, falling away as though he's being lifted up, into warmth and safety, and he wonder: Is this what it's like to curl up in a pouch?

It's warm and comforting and the sharp stones can't hurt him up here.

Now he's speeding through the air, with the gentle pendulum swing of being carried... And things are looking more lush - There's purple moss and plants and soft lichens. The sky is warmer, less cruel.

Better... They - he and the warm comfort who's carrying him - are catching up to everyone, and if he keeps quiet he can pretend that the warm chatter and rippling colours include him. And at the moment it feels like they really do.

For the first time in a long time, perhaps for the first time, Cat has a name, and nobody seems to notice that he has no colours. He clings on to this dream tighter than he's ever held anything in his life, and it's as though he really is warm.

Phalanges is asleep.

He doesn't feel Cat relax in his arms, tucked up under the duvet: He heard his little guy in softly crying in his sleep.

he never even woke up: Just slithered out, scooped Cat up and vanished under the warm covers.

In his dreams, the halls of the Station are wide. This is normal, as are many things in dream logic. He's walking with two faceless figures - he can't quite place them but for some reason he imagines the skin of an apple breaking. Ahead he sees a friend, cold and lost, and so hurries up and swings a blanket around them with satisfaction, though he can't quite recognise them... but somehow knows them so well.

And tonight almost more than any other night, he sleeps well.

[inkheart01]

THE GODS WILL NOT GO QUIETLY

A Gladiator and a Paramour. A Scout and a warlords advisor. Friends torn down to Enemies. Martyrs and Makers. Allies reduced to Traitors. And the end of the day, who will question the gods when their toys grow boring?

PT 1- CHAPTER 2

WORDS - 1,468k

CHAPTER 1__CHAPTER 2__CHAPTER 3

“I have never understood where the line is drawn Between sacrifice And self-slaughter.” ― Hilary Mantel

The stands trembled under the combined weight of what seemed to be half of cybertron itself, deafening roars filling the cavernous space. Amidst the crowning crowd, Soundwave found the lith femme amidst the sea of bodies, pink armor hard to escape, especially when she practically hung from the balcony, only the grip of her brother keeping her from falling into the pit below, where two gladiators awaited the carnage to come.

“You know the stakes”, Gridline slunk from the shadows behind him, bouncing on his feet as Ravage slipped up onto the gladiator's shoulders. “You win this match, and your next big fight is against Megatronus. No more filler bots”

“Not that filler matches are bad”, Beacon hovered nervously beside the mech, tapping away at the tablet between her claws. “As time consuming as they are, we need them for the reputation”, she smiled widely up at Gridline, the mech too busy with socializing with the few bots handing over the entrance to care much about the words escaping his partner's ruby mouth. “Ah, well, moving on”, she waved him off, and Soundwave turned to her as she pulled up the complex schedule she had spent hours pouring over. He admired that about Beacon, where Gridline may have been his boss, scheduling fights and collecting payments, Beacon was the mastermind behind it all. She was organized, and while easy to annoy, she rarely let herself indulge in anything other than her work. “You beat Aftershock today and you move up the leaderboard, but remember-”

“It doesn't guarantee him the spot”, Frenzy echoed, smiling toothily.

“Yes, thank you”, Beacon scrunched her brows the the minibot, “Next week, your fighting Cobalt, Overshot and-”

“Oryx!”, the ebony ‘bot nudged his brother, both eying the crowd, and the crimson fighter acting as a wall between the twins. “Apparently he gored his last opponent with his horns!”

“Thank you, Frenzy”, the Femme shooed the two back down the tunnel, muttering as they went on about the last few match-ups. “Yes, yes, Oryx. He’s only a middle class fighter at best”, Beacon hissed, shoulders slumping once the twin minibots were out of earshot. “One competent opponent and he’s getting gored”

“The twins already pissing you off? It's barely been an hour”, Gridline sidled up next to the femme, wary of the talons she had on full display. Soundwave remembered one night, acid rain thick overhead, where she had returned long after curfew, energon staining her claws and a look of righteous fury painted across her faceplate. He had done the research, he knew who she had killed, and if she had wanted the life, Soundwave would have perhaps feared the idea of facing her in the pits. But for the peace of Primus, she had chosen the life of a gladiatorial secretary.

“No, scraphead, i'm not pissed”, Beacon hissed, brown knotting ass he spun to face Gridline. “We're behind schedule because you couldn't stop canoodling!”

“Then let's get moving”, the third member of the team, Strom hauled a heavy crate behind him, wolfish smile splitting his face as he slung an arm around Beacon’s shoulders. “Crowds alive tonight”

“They better be”

Soundwave reached for the box, latches hissing open as Strom ducked out of Beacons range, ducking behind Gridline, and when the gladiator stood, dual blades heavy in each hand, the armorer darted over to his side, pulling a shiny visor from its casing. “One more matchup, big boy, you win this and we say hello to more credits than we've ever dreamed of”

“Is it just about the money for you!”

Before Strom could respond, the lights went dark, and the crown roared. The visor slotted into place easily, locks snapping shut and machinations wiring as beyond its tempered glass, the arena lit up in bolts of vibrant neon, the announcer, zipping around overhead calling for the gladiators.

Soundwave stepped forward, an inky wraith against the light, ahead, Aftershock’s frame rattled with pent up charge, blue eyes searching the visor as hidden behind it, Soundwave found Cavalier, Rumble and Frenzy beside her, the trio shining like a lighthouse with every pass of the overhead neon, body’s painted in intricate patterns, but none so striking as the visor glowing blue across the Femme’s face.

Soundwave would win this fight, not because he had to, but because he wanted too.

· · ─────── ·･ ｡ﾟ⟡ ⬤ ⟡ ˚｡ ･ · ─────── · ·

⎸⎹ 01010011 01101111 01110101 01101110 01100100 01110111 01100001 01110110 01100101 00100001 ⎸⎹ ⎸⎹ 01010011 01101000 01100101 00100000 01101011 01101001 01101100 01101100 01100101 01100100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 01101101 00100001 ⎸⎹ ⎸⎹ 01010100 01101000 01100101 01111001 00100111 01110010 01100101 00100000 01100100 01100101 01100001 01100100 00100001 ⎸⎹ ⎸⎹ 01010000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110011 01100101 00100001 ⎸⎹ ⎸⎹ 01001000 01100101 01101100 01110000 00100000 01101101 01100101 00100001 ⎸⎹

· · ─────── ·･ ｡ﾟ⟡ ⬤ ⟡ ˚｡ ･ · ─────── · ·

Nemesis was quiet in the gray of a cloudy dawn, engine rumbling softly as her crew roused. Work began early and ended late, the night shift stumbling back to their bunks as the day workers found their stations. It would be another busy day, Soundwave hummed to himself, feeling the static fuzz of his processor rebooting. The mech found sleep to be time consuming, and there was so much work to be done. I'll sleep when I'm dead. The human idioms rattled around in his mind from time to time, and he found that yes, sleep could wait.  

A soft beep reminded the mech of where he was, and what he was doing, the warship's powerful spark pounding above him, and a proud voice echoed down the narrow corridor. “There you are”, From the all-consuming energon glow, Peacemaker emerged, ducking under the arch that towered above him, mighty Forgehammer resting in her hand. “It’s been a while, my son”, The communications officer hung his head, a silent acknowledgement of the passing time. “The forge burns hot today, Nemesis seems to have found time to humour us with her conscious”, Her voice carried power, much like her frame, built tall and wide, and Soundwave feared that, in her ancient age, if she rose to her full height, shoulders squared and back straight, she would rival Megatron. 

At the passing glance of the warlord's name, soundwave relayed the message he had been sent with. “Tell that-”, he had spent the silent walk scrambling the moment his master had called the Forge-keeper a bleeding pile of useless scrap, “-I require more troops”. He also forwent the endless tangent Megatron had gone on, insulting every moment of the Autobots and their continued existence. It was not important, the message clear enough in as little as four words.

“Tell our gracious lord that his troops are already in production”, The forge-master sighed, hammer ringing across the ground as she inched closer. “Though, we both know that isn't why you are down here, is it?”, Of all members of the mighty Cybertronian race, only a select few could ever truly understand the cunning gladiator, and all but one resided secretly aboard the Decepticon warship. “Come, they have missed you”, a sharp pang of guilt raced through his systems, processor momentarily blinded by a pink frame, eyes bright and blue and laughter echoing around in the hidden recesses of his body. And then he pushed the aching ghost away and followed dutifully, mindful of the blistering heat as he shadowed the towering femme through the labyrinth of Nemesis’ mighty spark chamber. It was a beautiful thing, the warship's heart, a small sun glowing blue even in her stasis lock, beating low above the gangways the two walked along. “She tells me things, you know?”, Peacemaker brushed a shining claw against the glass spark, electricity crackling through the air, zipping along her cerulean frame, and in the impending glow, Soundwave almost lost her in the bloom. “Even in her state, she sees far more than even you”. Soundwave remained silent, unseen gaze locked on the sizable chunk at the core of the warship's heart. A piece of the Well of Allsparks, taller than he was and just as wide, and he felt the matching sliver at the center of his own spark cry out, trapped in its cage of steel and forever longing to be returned to its rightful place.

· · ─────── ·･ ｡ﾟ⟡ ⬤ ⟡ ˚｡ ･ · ─────── · ·

⎸⎹ 01001001 00100000 01100011 01101111 01110101 01101100 01100100 01101110 00100111 01110100 00100000 01110011 01100001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 ⎸⎹⎸⎹ 01001001 00100000 01100011 01101111 01110101 01101100 01100100 01101110 00100111 01110100 00100000 01110011 01100001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 01101101 ⎸⎹⎸⎹ 01001001 00100111 01101101 00100000 01110011 01101111 01110010 01110010 01111001 ⎸⎹

· · ─────── ·･ ｡ﾟ⟡ ⬤ ⟡ ˚｡ ･ · ─────── · ·

[lepertamar]

Stars That Rise At Dawn 2023 Revised vs 2018 edition differences: Part 2

Part 1 is at this link, and part 3 at this one. this covers chapter 15 to chapter 24. I was hoping that I could keep this to 2 parts but it's gotten long and I've delayed it enough at this point lmao.

As before, long sequence of passages with changes under the cut. I’ve put some commentary of my own personal opinion on a few of the changes, but the author mostly only explains her decisions with an enigmatic ‘improving continuity with the rest of the series’ so the effects are pretty subjective.

I tried to put changes/additions of the 2023 revision in bold, and when I quoted the 2018 edition, put it in strikethrough red.

Chapter 15:

Immediately the first change to this chapter (Tamar's reintroduction) is the epigraph. The original one, the sa-shira poem, was moved back to chapter 14, and the new one for chapter 15 is

“In the world of tomorrow one man defeats God—but what if that's exactly what God wants? Sparks fly! Featuring cutting-edge pyrotechnics to depict God, and 6 full minutes of spoken audio! —poster for the upcoming film The Mad Wrestler”

This made me shriek out loud with laughter especially as I had just had a bit of a triggered breakdown (complimentary) while reading the last chapter . It's fantastic in multiple ways and very suited to this moment in the story LMAO, the puncturing sort of effect, but also definitely foreshadows certain things in the next two books. Also, wrestler. We who wrestle with G-d....

A few pages later:

Pre-revision:

God pulses in her eyes as she brushes her hands over the long-dead artist’s handiwork on the way to the door handle, wheeling fire in fractaling patterns.

Post-revision:

God makes a kind of exclamation point in her eyes as she brushes her hands over the long-dead artist’s handiwork on the way to the door handle, wheeling fire in fractaling patterns.

A friend of mine was INCREDIBLY taken with this and a few other similar alterations in this chapter that subtly but effectively enhance G-d as A Person who is Reacting and being an Active Participant with Tamar, being 'right there'.

Followed by

Pre-revision:

Wheels within wheels turn, unfurling like feathers made of dense starlight. So that’s probably a yes. Maybe. They’re not exactly known for making sense, or communicating clearly... but They sure are an exciting companion in her body. Smiling, she steps into her building.

Post-revision:

Wheels within wheels turn, unfurling like feathers made of dense starlight.  So that’s probably a yes. Maybe. Smiling, she opens the door.

(quoting friend) "I love how the last bit, that They do not make sense necessarily and that they're exciting to have around, is unsaid, because of course God doesn't communicate 'normally' and of course Tamar is elated to have Them with her". It's very Tamar-characteristic to refuse to explain or to flatten an experience into a specific and narrow justification.

There's also a couple lines cut to reduce repetition, but also:

Pre-revision

“Welcome back, Tamar of God’s light!”

Post-revision:

“Welcome back, Tamar the Flame-thief!”

Both a much much more evocative and characteristic of Tamar, and a much cooler an epithet for a holy (the flame-thieves is listed among the synonyms for holies in various languages in an epigraph in Lives), with its Promethean, Jacob-like connotation, and given both of these are followed by Tamar thinking "Such a formal greeting", a much more defamiliarized bit of social worldbuilding -- a term that sounds provocative and even pejorative to the reader is very normalized in-universe.

Then there's an addition of:

“Oh, my day was good, definitely good! And God’s?” Tamar laughs. Not many think to ask that. “Pretty good, as far as I can tell. They seem to still be curious about how some people think it’s weird or something when I faceplant on their batteries,” Tamar says with a shrug. “I got a lot of shock today.”

This ngl instantly made me like Havilah 5x more. Not many people think to ask a holy how G-d's day was!! And another bit of both G-d being actively involved with Tamar throughout the day, and Tamar trying (and struggling) to understand Them.

Once Tamar encounters Lucifer in front of her apartment, there's this significant change, which makes a big impact given it's the closest we get until late in Lives to Lucifer's actual feelings, and not just what they deliberately present to others:

Pre-revision:

Anyway. She looks down toward the voice, where it turns out there’s also an incredible amount of irritation. But nothing that seems much like lies. And, when she looks a little longer, she catches the scent of thousands of years of history. And inside herself she feels a few spinning flames of God, going off every direction, squinting and shrugging in a pattern she’s not sure she’s seen before.

Post-revision:

Anyway. She looks down toward the voice, where it turns out there’s a vibrant pulse of… terror. And something along the lines of disgust, revulsion even, but not quite the same as what even the most conflicted of her customers sometimes feel. Finely aged, perhaps. Yeah, the longer she looks, the more she catches the scent of thousands of years of history. And inside herself God squints and stutters in surprise, flames spinning in a pattern she’s not sure she’s seen from Them before.

This revision is instantly so juicy, in such a small number of words, in terms of characterization of Tamar, Lucifer, and G-d. Lucifer is terrified and repulsed. some of Tamar's customers feel similar, but not quite like that. the feeling has been marinating for a long time. Tamar is not bothered by this, she feels very casual but kind of drinks it in with some level of relish, like a fine wine or cheese. And G-d is Super Surprised, stutters in shock, implying it may have been a long time, perhaps centuries or more, since They've actually seen Lucifer.

Later in the apartment, there is an added line:

from the couch, where she’s been listening to the radio and watching the patterns tracing through God’s soul."

Hint at her hobbies and day-to-day life as a blind person, as well as the technological level of this setting, which gets emphasized a bit more later in Lives.

Safirah characterization and less clumsy/artificial-sounding narration:

“Precisely.” Tamar grins; there’s a reason this life of hers is more interesting than what she had going on in secondary school.

Got changed to

“Precisely. Not to mention making that Holy fear for their life.” Tamar snorts.

The word 'dating' is replaced by 'fucking' here (one of the few blunt mentions of sex in the series actually) for some added Safirah characterization:

“You’re eight years older than me, not ten,” Tamar notes. “People think we’re fucking.” “Some folks will look at any two people and think they’re fucking.”

According to her social media the author is asexual, which may play a role in why so little sex is mentioned in these books, although intensely kinky scenes appear both in this series and in other books.

Chapter 16:

Pre-revision:

“...to be flaming queen of the first city, ever, on Šehhinah, and then say to yourself, ‘Flame it, I’m clearly not doing enough for people, I’m going to become more powerful than any Holy before or since”

Post-revision:

“...to be flaming queen of the first city, ever, on Šehhinah, and then say to yourself, ‘Flame it, I’m clearly not doing enough for people, I’m going to grab more power from God than any Holy before or since”

and:

“Oh flames, that isn’t commonly known outside of demons?” Hannuša says. “Wow, huh. Yeah, um, Lilith… Lilith’s something, alright. When she spoke the truest of God’s names and was completely immolated, she, through like a sheer act of will, and I have no idea if anyone else who’s ever lived has even half the will she does, she somehow forced her soul to accept, of all things, water vapor as her body.”

Post-revision:

“Oh flames, you don’t know?” Hannuša says. “Wow, huh. Yeah, um, Lilith… Lilith’s something, alright. When she spoke the truest of God’s names and was completely immolated—without Them having expected it, or having intended to immolate her, there’s a reason she impressed Them so much that she’s half of the Covenant—she, through like a sheer act of will, and I have no idea if anyone else who’s ever lived has even half the will she does, she somehow forced her soul to accept, of all things, water vapor as her body.”

This both refers back to the previous chapter's epigraph, impressing further that '6,000 years ago G-d was surprised and 'beaten' and admitted that They didn't know everything and had made flaws in how the world worked, and made this into the basis for changing the entire metaphysics of the afterlife, and the role of all living beings is to argue for how to fix the world' is foundational, ancient, uncontroversial theology.

And it's just sooooooo 'she impressed Them so much'……! Like wrestled with G-d, and prevailed, like Jacob ;-;

“And I think she’s got some friends among the angels that have some manifestations that involve her or something, so she can talk to them, too.”

Changed to

“And she is Holy, so she can talk to any of the angels—or other Holies too, I guess?—any time she wants through God. So that’s how she gets a lot of stuff done, she has angel friends who have eyes and stuff… to, you know, find us. The ones she wants to help..”

This comes up more in Lives again.

Chapter 17: No revisions I noticed, except that the epigraph for the previous chapter 18 was moved to chapter 17.

Chapter 18:

The epigraph (boring one about the neighborhood of Olive Heights) is replaced by a haiku:

“desert-burned | the river its sand | bright as salt —Ono the Mute, 4977 A.C.”

Breathtaking, given the positioning of the chapter break: between Eliya seeing Tamar again saying "Hello Tamar" and “Elīya looks at Tamar, still trying not to look into her eyes, still failing utterly.”........

Yenatru's pov line "Except for the eyes, she's exactly the same" is replaced by “She doesn’t look that different.” More open.

The chapter goes the same for a while, but later in the chapter, during the motorcycle ride, Eliya's pov:

“Flame you,” Elīya can’t help but mutter. Tamar just laughs. “If you’re referring to my eyes…” She trails off, as if expecting Elīya to guess at what she means. Which Elīya does, deciding in a split second that what Tamar means is probably a condemnation of her. A failure of ethics. How dare she say flame you to a Holy, perhaps.”

replaced by:

“Flame you,” Elīya can’t help but mutter. Tamar just laughs. “If you’re referring to my eyes…” She trails off, as if expecting Elīya to guess at what she means. Which Elīya does, deciding in a split second that what Tamar means is probably a condemnation of her. A failure of ethics. How offensive to say flame you to a Holy, perhaps.”

Emphasizing something that's clear from the general syntax and structure of the in-universe terminology: "flame you" is the equivalent of "fuck you" or even more pointedly, "damn you", and is also, at the same time, a pejorative reference to being burned. Like the misogyny baked into the etymological origins of the irl curse "fuck you", where "being fucked" is derogatory and inherently unwanted. but NOT in the sense where this is concsciously thought of as like, a bigoted slur or anything. Holies use it all the time too!!! and jibril, in the next book, uses it too! But also not even a completely depleted of meaning flat sort of thing -- Tamar in the prologue "understands why people swear by fire" upon seeing G-d.

This is of course a central theme of this book -- anything real and powerful and mattering enough that someone would burn out one's eyes to see its beauty is also real and powerful and mattering enough to be capable of causing incredible hurt and damage by its presence, and is therefore not 'safe'. and this is not a bug or flaw or horrible underlying secret, but an inherent truth of how the existence of the stuff of the universe and consciousness works.

Pre-revision:

“So tell me, Elīya. What’s so ethical, so moral, about living your life like this, following this one path just because you think you should?” “That path is ethics,” Elīya says through gritted teeth. “And you’re the one who admitted you weren’t learning anything.  So again I ask, what is ethical about this situation.” “Perhaps it is teaching me focus.” Maybe. “Perhaps,” Tamar echoes.  “But I believe you’re more than this.  More than this one thing, more than the constant chorus of ethics, ethics, ethics through your mind.”

Post-revision:

“So tell me, Elīya. What’s so ethical, so moral, about living your life like this, following this one path just because you think you should?” “That path is ethics,” Elīya says through gritted teeth. “And you’re the one who admitted you weren’t learning anything. So again I ask, what is ethical about your life.” “Perhaps it is teaching me focus.” Maybe. “On what.” “On anything I need to focus on. On everything.” “And is this everything anything other than ethical or unethical?” “Flame you.” “Already did that,” Tamar says. “But I believe you’re more than this. More than this one thing, more than this checking off ethics, ethics, ethics on every fucking thing that gets through your head.”

I don't really have a comment on this but I like it.

Chapter 19:

The epigraph is slightly altered:

Though the Holy are venerated now, they have not always been so lucky. In the first millennium A.C., King Lot of Nefil decreed that the Holy in his city cover their prices when in public, so as not to stain any unwilling eyes with the symbol of such an intimate—or, as Lot wrote in a rare surviving letter, “degenerate”—act. Some stone-etchings on official buildings in protest of this law can still be found by divers researching the ruins of the city, now many meters underwater after the unfortunate sea-level rise… —Dr. Melia Yashim, The Past is the Strangest Place of All”

simply removing the bit at the beginning! i debated the intent behind this a bit, wondering if it was just for brevity, or because veneration is not actually indicated anywhere in the series, or something deeper, but ultimately concluded that the effect, at least, is to make this period sound less singular, and more like one excerpted bullet-point among a list of unknown length and number of other similar incidents.

After this, a longer altered sequence here, originally:

“Once we store the motorcycles,” Yenatru says.“Where’s Lucifer?” Tamar asks.“Uh, looks like they’re just standing a bit back there, leaning on their own arms,” Elīya says.Lucifer’s probably planning to watch the show over here if it gets confrontational or awkward again, Yenatru thinks.  “Everything alright so far?”Elīya’s eye twitches; that’s not a great sign. “It’s… something.”A strange expression comes over Tamar’s face, along with a somewhat pointed shrug.He should do something, he thinks.  But what?  And how?  The moments pass and Elīya’s eye still twitches.So Yenatru just says, quietly, “We should probably go over to her.  Lucifer.  So we can put the bikes in the shed and continue.”“They, her, what is up with him,” Tamar mumbles.“Nothing I have any reason or responsibility to tell you,” Lucifer responds, strolling right up, single braid swaying behind her.  Or him, to Tamar.  Her voice is smooth in this form; a good aesthetic choice, Yenatru thinks.

Now:

“Once we store the motorcycles,” Yenatru says. “Where’s Lucifer?” Tamar asks. “Everything alright so far?” Lucifer says almost in answer, merging into the form for Elīya. Tamar starts at the new voice. “Who’s that?” Lucifer doesn’t respond. “How’s it going?” she—or they, to Elīya—asks. Elīya’s eye twitches; that’s not a great sign. “It’s… something.” A strange expression comes over Tamar’s face, along with a somewhat pointed shrug. He should do something, he thinks. But what? And how? The moments pass and Elīya’s eye still twitches. So Yenatru just says, quietly, “We should put the bikes in the shed and continue, she’s waiting. Lucifer, I mean.” “She—what?” Tamar swings her head in one direction and then another. “Nothing I have any reason or responsibility to tell you,” Lucifer responds, strolling right past her, single braid swaying behind her. Or him, to Tamar. Her voice is smooth in this form; a good aesthetic choice, Yenatru thinks. Tamar draws her cane out of her bag and sighs. “Yenatru, is there another person here or—” “It’s Lucifer, she—they, him—can uh, shapeshift?” Yenatru whispers quickly. “Oh,” says Tamar. “No one told me.”

:))))))))

Chapter 20-21: no changes I noticed

Chapter 22:

An added paragraph here:

Perhaps because it was easier not to. So deceptively simple a reason. It was easier for her not to. It was perfectly easy for her to continue living without caring about those things, so she didn’t. She had no pressing need, no tangible pain, no burning desire. Or didn’t she? Didn’t she need and want more, these last two years?

Chapter 23:

Pre-revision:

“You know," Tamar says, "God is a part of me wherever I go, and I can’t exactly make that stop being a thing You should get it, considering—"

Post-revision:

“You know,” Tamar says, “This is what I am, wherever I go, and I’m not about to hide it just for you. You should get it, considering—”

Just a bit more mean and callous (and truthful) hahahahahasaadad

Post-revision, some slight additions:

“Oh, you know.” She shrugs. “Hanging out, exploring the city and getting lost ‘cause I’m blind, bickering with the other Holies, laughing when people think weird things about me, charging their batteries by shoving them into my eyes—” “Into what now.” “Into God.” “…Got it,” Yenatru says, even though that’s not one of the things he’s heard of a Holy doing. “I didn’t know….Holies disagreed about God.” She raises an eyebrow. “You don’t know much, do you?” She doesn’t sound angry, but her voice is serious. His face heats. He can’t say he does. Not about this. “So, yeah. Life’s more, now.”

More stuff about Tamar's life and societal utter ignorance (avoidance) of Holies

Finally, one of the biggest changes so far: the chapter stops at

“Yenatru finds himself smiling a little, feeling ready to do just that. Even if not quite everything makes sense. Even if the way he cares isn’t quite what he expected at all.”

The entire scene from the previous version that follows it is completely removed from this version: gone is the bit of Tamar accidentally feeling Yenatru's manifestation, her saying it's too soothing for her tastes, and Yenatru's uncharacteristically utterly fucking TERRIBLE and steamrollering line that undoes all his beautiful, character-deepening pondering and observation of the puzzle of her (Almost falling off mountains.  God in her eyes.  Maybe her like of those two things is actually one and the same—and maybe that means Yenatru understands some of why she made the choice she did.) This is of course a really good deletion, but also Tamar not getting to feel Yenatru's manifestation probably has something to do with stuff that happens later in Lives -- she'd probably recognize something is up with it.

Chapter 24:

This chapter has at the end, what I think is the single most important change, in terms of continuity and characterization (for Eliya), but even moreso in terms of narrative sincerity and honesty.

First there's a couple of minor-ish added lines (in bold as usual) that mostly serve to ramp up to the major change:

“Or maybe she’s at least an entire scene, an entire image, an entire place, not just the wind but also the open desert, and completely open sky, that too, she hasn’t factored in her tendency to look at the sky and horizon yet. And even then, is that incorporating every detail? She’s not sure, but she still seems to be onto something. When Tamar tore into her on the motorcycle, the wind that wasn’t wind in her face, the motorcycle flying free over the desert, I believe you’re more than this, it hurt so much more than anything she’d ever heard before, sank so deep into her. Was it because what was her was so close, within her grasp? Or because—no one else had told her, the way Tamar did? Nothing’s stopping you… Where did Tamar go, when she….she didn’t even do Theurgy, but the way she said so softly that she wanted. Her soul a whole scene too. Elīya’s close to certain: she probably can check her traits against that scene-that-is-her, can’t she, to identify them as her? She’s identifiable to herself because she’s the desert wind.”

Then the major, major, entire-book-saving change:

Pre-revision:

But Elīya wants clarity, and there’s something she has to know. “Why do you care?” Lucifer turns their head to her, gives her a particularly unreadable smile that lasts multiple seconds before they finally speak. They’re mostly in shadow, their eyes somehow lit by the stars. “’S really a simple answer. I care about everyone.” Elīya blinks. “But Yenatru—” “I care about him more, of course. But you’re someone, Elīya, everyone is, and you didn’t seem to have the slightest idea about whatever particular joy being you might bring. And there was a chance, right there, right in front of me, to help you find out. No way in fuck I wasn’t going to take that.” They pause, smiling. “Even if you do, generally speaking, really annoy me.” Elīya coughs. Well, she likes honesty, so she can’t say anything against that. And—there’s something she has to say, isn’t there. Lucifer’s all the way turned away from her when Elīya says, “Thank you.” Again they turn back, this time only briefly, but long enough for her to see them grin. And they head off, walk somewhere, a shadow against shadows in this night, sagebrush licking against their dress.

POST-REVISION:

But Elīya wants clarity, and there’s something she has to know. “Why do you care?” Lucifer turns their head to her, gives her a particularly unreadable smile that lasts multiple seconds before they finally speak. They’re mostly in shadow, their eyes somehow lit by the stars. “’S really a simple answer. I care about everyone.” Elīya blinks. “But Yenatru—” “I care about him more, of course. But you’re someone, Elīya, everyone is, and you didn’t seem to have the slightest idea about whatever particular joy being you might bring. And there was a chance, right there, right in front of me, to help you find out. No way in fuck I wasn’t going to take that.” They pause, smiling. “Even if you do, generally speaking, really annoy me.” Elīya narrows her eyes. The person she was when Lucifer was teaching her seems so long ago. In such a short time she’s so much more. Such a short time— Lucifer’s all the way turned away from her when Elīya says, “Thank you.” Again they turn back, the kind smile spreading over their face, and Elīya takes a breath. Ethically, because she values honesty, there’s something else: “But actually, meeting Tamar helped more, so I was right about my end of the deal after all.” And Lucifer’s serene starlit face twists. “Really.” “Really.” She crosses her arms, expecting a challenge. Expecting a fight, anticipating it and how it might help her understand just how she’s come so far so fast. But Lucifer just curls their lip and leaves. Bitterness washes over Elīya. So, that’s it then.

JUST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I think many different people could bring more richness of interpretation to this, but here's my own personal subjective pov:

IMO, this one change basically fixes EVERYTHING about the ENTIRE book that drove me so fucking insane i spent over a year fuming and venting and casting bitter contemptuous aspersions on the author and came close to completely ruining the entire book for me and making me drop the series.

Two different friends of mine who read the revision found this revised change to be The moment they finally actually started liking and respecting eliya!!!! While I didn't have quite this reaction -- I always liked Eliya lmao -- I know exactly what they mean, because Eliya was done so dirty in the previous version. In this revision, the lack of the twisting narrative dishonesty that plagued the previous version finally admits: eliya was just…….right. she was not Foolish And Misguided and Deluded to make a deal to get tamar back as the previous version of this scene implies, where this and subsequent chapters of the prevision version hammered home a message that eliya was Foolish and Mistaken to care about meeting tamar again, the parallel ‘you care’ was a clear ‘lucifer is teaching her and wisely and kindly giving her something that’s Correct and Meaningful, unlike tamar who has nothing to help her with, and unlike the delusions eliya stupidly thought were important’

And the fact like. That lucifer's whole spiel, while not altered at all, is reframed to allow it to absolutely stink of the hypocrisy it always held: lucifer absolutely does not think everyone has particular joys of being them, or that everyone is someone — they do not think tamar is someone as-she-is-now, or that tamar has a particular joy of being her. And eliya narrows her eyes — notices that as bullshit in the context of lucifer saying it instantly, rather than passively accepting lucifer’s Wisdom and Compassion in Saving Her like the previous version. And she retorts with her own agency, (though she either doesn't notice or doesn't care about lucifer's maligning of tamar, which is also cool)

And it fits, continuity-wise: in both versions of the book, Lucifer and Eliya never exchange another word for the remainder of the book, but in this version it MEANS something. the absolute tragedy of this relationship with eliya, possibly the only actually constructive and challenging relationship lucifer has ever had in their life, the way the only times lucifer was ever actually cool and hot and epic was when they were sparring and struggling with eliya -- all this slipping away the second eliya challenges just a step too far, by dropping the warping narrative dishonesty act and admitting that seeing the evidence of fucking Tamar's existence in the world made Eliya actually seize this, by indicating that Lucifer's teaching, while extremely necessary, was not sufficient to replace Eliya's own desires and plans, and that she didn't use and run with their help in quite the way they thought she 'should' have as a passive recipient. It's gut-wrenching, and this means it leads into and sets up Lives so, so, so well.

I was right about my end of the deal after all.....

I'll continue the last few chapters in a shorter Part 3

[wixelt]

Going through the AU once again and I was reminded of Grian blitzing past Andrias on Elytra wings as a distraction followed by Sasha dive bombing him with swords on her own pair, Grian serving as a surrogate mentor to Sasha in Scar's absence, and the idea that the portal is likely open for a good amount of time before they finish preparations on the dragon-duper allowing the resistance to actually have access to Elytra for ever so slightly less time, especially with both Iskall and Ijevin around to go End Raiding (an idea of it's own,) leading me to one cunclusion

Grian giving Sasha flying lessons.

Also R&D probably made either rocket boosters or jet packs out of scavenged Frobo parts to act as propulsion for the Elytra.

This is very plausible.

Tango doesn't work out how to do the impossible & build an End Portal til very late in Season 3. Even then, though, they have a bit of breathing room.

After dealing with the existing dragon - if its even there naturally, given how odd Amphibia is compared to other worlds - an effort led by Iskall & Jevin accrues a surplus of elytra. Enough for pretty much every Hermit plus a few others, namely Anne, Sasha, Marcy & - after pleading with Hop Pop - Sprig as well.

And from there begin the lessons.

Anne, Sprig & especially Marcy only learn enough to get by, having other things they'd rather put prep time into. If they make it through this, there'll be time to learn without repeatedly faceplanting, later.

Sasha, however, soars as if it were second nature to her.

Scar - much like the rest of the Earthbound group - is back with the resistance now, but Grian was a big support for Sasha whilst he, Anne & Marcy were gone. A second mentor figure, even if Scar forges a much stronger emotional connection in the long run.

So maybe the fact that Grian's the one leading the flying lessons has something to do with how well Sasha takes to it.

Either way he's impressed, & Scar's just relieved Sasha doesn't take after how he flies. :P

And yes, in the absence or perhaps in the inefficiency of using fireworks in this situation, Frobot derived rocket packs - makeshift as they are, not meant to last long term no matter how much Tango works on them - make these flying fighters all the more dangerous.

[ladyfurbton]

Trixie and the Hand Part 5

Image Descriptions:

1: Malachai is an orange long furby with a dark blue pouch on his chest and six orange arms with neutral coloured hands at the end of each arm. He has the face of a furby buddy with blue eyes. There is a green square under his face and a dark blue mohawk on his head. He has little white feet. He is wearing a colourful necklace with his name on it. Trixie is a small long furby who has one purple ear and one pink ear with light orange hair on top of her head. She has a small 1998 face place that is pink and has blue eyes and a yellow beak. Her beak is open revealing a red tongue. Her fur is mainly purple with a few stripes of pink,yellow, blue and green here and there. She has one purple foot and one pink foot. She has a sticky yellow hand. Malachai and Trixie are near a sign. The sign says "we need a saxophone player. Auditions: 3pm 21st of May 22 Wently St." There is a picture of a saxophone at the bottom of the sign with musical notes coming out of it. Malachai says "Oh cool I should audition for that." Trixie says "that sounds like fun. Can I come and watch you audition?"

2: Same as image one except the furbys are saying different things. Malachai says "of course you can" and Trixie says "yay!!"

3: Gothnita the black handmade plush furby has blue ears, hair and faceplate. She has googley eyes and black eye lashes. She is wearing a black shirt with a white skull and crossbones on the front of it with zebra pants. She has a wedding ring on her left foot. Gothby is a small plush handmade furby. He has hair on his head that is made of thick dark purple wool. His ears are dark purple with a black diamond on the middle of each of them that is touching his head. There are three black stripes coming our from each diamond on each ear. Gothby has blacklish grey fur with a purple stripey square on his belly. His face plate and beak are both purple and his eyes are googley eyes. There are three black diamonds on each side of his face plate arranged in a triangle shape. Gothby has two purple feet with three toes on each foot. He has a black diamond on the end of each toe. Gothby wears a golden wedding ring on his left foot. Sunny is a Shelby which is a clam like furby creature. His shell is shaped like a clams and is sandy brown and black striped. He has a black mane going through the middle of his shell. Under his shell are his eyes they look like a 1998 furbys eyes. His eyes are green. The area where his beak is is a pinkish red colour and his beak is below his eyes and is yellow. He has two light brown rock shaped feet below his beak and two smaller feet one each beside the big ones. There is a little bit of black fur near his feet and under his shell. Gothnita, Gothby and Sunny are standing together. Gothby says "ok Malachai show us what you can play."

4: Malachai is playing a silver saxophone with colourful buttons on it. Trixie is beside him watching him play.

5: Trixies hand is pressing the buttons on Malachais saxophone.

6: A close up of Trixie. She says "Oh crap!! Not again!!"

7: Same as image three except Gothby is saying "thanks for auditioning Malachai. We will call you and let you know how you went."

8: Malachai and Trixie are sitting together. Malachai says "why were you touching my saxophone and messing up my notes?"  Trixie says "I am so sorry Malachai. Since I have gotten this hand it has been doing some things that I am not in control of."

9: Same as image eight except the furbys are saying different things. Malachai says "Wow that must be awful for you." Trixie says "Yes I don't think I want this hand anymore. All it does is cause my friends and I trouble."

[arsen1cs4ng0]

i was going through my ancient deviantart and found some writing i did from when i was 11. im. i need to show you guys (zero people) this i am dying here

its under the cut as its really long. and fucking awful

The Psychopath

I've been inactive on youtube lol. This is why. I've been busyyyyyyyyy and unmotivatedddddddddd So, I've made a script. Its called "The Psychopath". ------------------------- Part 1:

Momo was making a video called "HOTTO DOGU". (It will be real).

Momo: Wow... A full moon tonight? And... I think I've been making this video for too long. I should get some rest.

She then realised that her paws went cyan, and she felt something ripping through her fingertips.

Momo: Its cold...

Momo would sleep untill the next day.

???: Good morning, Sweetie...

A voice would call her. It wasn't Luna Shinelight's Voice.

She would wake up, screaming.

Momo: What the... I had the strangest dream! Some voice called me... Am I going crazy?

She would tell Luna and Bunni about her paws and her dream, But they didn't believe her.

Untill the next night at 3am....

Momo: I can't sleep... My fur is all dirty... My eyes feel weird too.. and my ears seem to be feeling broken...

???: Hello, My dear...

Momo: Wha... Who's there?

She'd see 2 glowing blue eyes and 4 white glowing eyes...

???: Join us....

???: Its time....

Momo: What... No... no... god please no...

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

---------------------- Part 2:

Luna: It's momo's dreams again...

Bunni: She should really calm down...

Growling and screeching would come from momo's room.

Luna: Momo! I know you're in there!

Bunni: Wow.. Momo must be angry that she has dreams again...

They'd see Noo-Noo come upstairs. Noo-Noo: What happened? I heard momo screaming and crying at like 3am... Noo-Noo would open the door.... Luna: What... Bunni: The... Noo-Noo: AAAH! Momo's gone insane! What's happening!?!??!? HELP ME!! Noo-Noo would flee back to his room and never come to her room again. Luna: I feel like fleeing.... Bunni: Its the only way.... AAAAAAAAAAAAH!! They'd both flee... Untill they were outside! Momo?: GGGGGGRRRRRR!!!!! GRRRET BBBBRACK RRRRRRROAAAAAERE!!!! Noo-Noo would come outside Noo-Noo: Is it safe......AAAAAAARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Momo?: AAAAAAARGH! NYAAAAAHGH! FFFFFFFFUGRRRRYJUBY! FFFFFURBY! ------------------------- Part 3: Luna: Momo! No!! Bunni: There's only one person to help... Bunni would call Mimi, Momo's Sister. Mimi: You called? Bunni: Your sister's gone crazy. Do something to help her! She's teared noo-noo in half, Still alive, crying with scratches! Mimi would go the the garden Luna: Help.... Me.... Momo?: GRRRRRRRRRR! YGRRRRRROU! Mimi: Momo... its been... a while... You've done this before to me... That's why... I ran... *sniff* away... Momo?: Grrrrrrrrr..... Mimi: Just.. Calm... down... -------------------- Part 4 (Last Part): Momo would calm down, her ears and faceplate went back to normal... but her fur and feet still out of place Momo: Mimi... I... Just.. don't... know... what... I... did... Mimi: You hurt noo-noo and cut Luna's ear open... Momo: Did I? Mimi: Yes... They'd see momo start screaming then fainting. something came out of her chest. ???: Seriously... Momo! You calmed down... didn't you! ???: "She" will not be happy with what I did... ???: I'll come back... YOU HEAR ME!? and you'll regret it more!!! The unexpected visitor dissapeared... ------------------- That's that. My first like story. Its terrible. I know.

The end....

????: You. You failed, didn't you? You made momo calm down!

???: I'm sorry....

???: You better be sorry! Use more power! Here. use this for the next full moon.

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

[mads-weasley]

An Adorable Drunk

Bradley Bradshaw x Wife!Reader

Masterlist

Request: yes! from @savvysaucepacket

Summary: After Bradley has a rowdy night at The Hard Deck, (y/n) takes care of her drunk husband.

Warnings: cute rooster

(Y/n) was sitting at the kitchen table, the kindergarten worksheets she was grading spread across the area when she got a call. She expected Bradley's name to pop up on the screen, but when Phoenix's did instead, she furrowed her brows.

"This is (y/n)," she answered.

"Hey (y/n), we have a situation."

A million thoughts ran through her head, and Natasha picked up on this, reassuring her. "Everything's okay!"

"Okay," (y/n) sighed, "What's up?"

"Well, Bradley is currently so drunk that he's dancing on top of the piano stool." The pilot paused, a loud commotion filling the phone before Rooster's slurring voice could be heard, yelling, "I'm 'kay!"

"Nat, was that what I think it was?"

"Yep. He just fell. You need to come get him."

Getting up, (y/n) rushed to grab her keys, shutting the door behind her. "I'm on my way."

'The one time I'm not there with him,' she thought, rolling her eyes playfully. Normally the couple would go out together, but she had a lot of papers to grade, so she'd sent him to The Hard Deck by himself. Since they got married 3 years ago, she could count on one hand the times Bradley had gotten completely wasted.

1 - Their honeymoon

2 - Bob's wedding

3 - The night after the mission that called them all back to Top Gun

Pulling up to the bar, she could see Bradley's slumped-over figure leaning against the deck railing, sitting on the stairs, and Hangman beside him, keeping him upright. (Y/n) drove the car as close to the entrance as she could, wanting to give her husband less of a chance to faceplant on the sandy gravel.

The second she jumped out of the car, Bradley tried to get up but fell back down on the stairs.

"Look! It's my wife! Hey, baby." he slurred, a lazy smile growing on his face.

She kneeled in front of him, trying to hold in a laugh. "Hey, Roos. Let's get you home."

"Show me the way, honey."

Kissing him on the forehead, she couldn't contain her laughter anymore. "Close, babe."

Hangman helped Bradley into the front seat without falling, even though there were almost a few faceplants. (Y/n) buckled him in and started to close the door. He stopped her, grabbing her wrist.

"You're the best wife, (y/n/n)."

With a smile, she shut his door softly and climbed into the driver's seat. The whole way home, Bradley wouldn't stop lovably rambling about how she was the best wingman, or wing-woman (he corrected himself), he could ever have.

"See, nobody else would put up with me and all the stuff I do. That's why you're the best. You take care of me, feed me, cuddle with me," his eyes widened, "more than cuddle with me, drive me places. I'm so glad you're with me."

"Me too, Brad. Me, too." she said, grinning.

Halfway to their house, (y/n) noticed he had stopped talking, so she peered over at him.

He was dead asleep, snoring with his face smushed against the window and his mouth wide open. She smiled at the adorable sight before her. The soft moonlight beamed through the window onto his face, making him look even more child-like than usual. He looked like he did when they were both teenagers falling in love.

Pulling into the driveway, she tried to figure out how she was going to get her 6-foot, two-hundred-something pound, naval aviator of a husband up the front steps without crushing her. There was no great option, she decided. Rubbing his leg softly, she tried to wake him up.

"Brad, come on, wake up, babe," she whispered, moving her hands to his face and rubbing his cheeks. After trying this a few times with no response, she knew she had to try a different approach.

Summoning her best Cyclone-like yell, she took a deep breath. "Lieutenant Bradshaw!"

He immediately shook awake...well, as awake as you can be while wasted. "Yes, sir." he sleepily saluted.

When he saw who it was, he reached out for her. "I'm sorry, baby, I called you a sir." Lazily looking her up and down, he smirked. "I definitely know you're not a sir."

Rolling her eyes with a chuckle, she pulled him out of the car, slinging his arm over her shoulders so she could take some of his weight. He stumbled a few times and (y/n) thought she was going to go down, but somehow she managed to stay upright.

Once they got up the front steps, she sighed in relief, thankful that their bedroom was on the first floor of their house. Gently sitting him on the bed, she went and got some aspirin and a glass of water.

"Take this. It'll help your headache," she whispered, holding out her hand.

His eyes were closed and his head began to lull forward, but he caught himself, jerking back upright. "I don't have a headache."

"Trust me. You will." she paused. "Just take it, please."

He nodded slowly, still half asleep. "Yes, ma'am. Anything for the Mrs."

As he took the pill, she began to undress him. First, she slid off his shoes, then tugged his jean shorts off, leaving him in his boxers. His signature Hawaiian shirt was the next to slide off, so all that was left was his white cutoff.

"Arms up, Rooster."

His drunk version of "arms up" was raising his arms to his eye level. She gently pushed them higher before grabbing the hem of the shirt and pulling it over his head, leaving him in nothing but his boxers and socks, which was how he liked to sleep.

Bradley raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Hmm, Mrs. Bradshaw."

She kissed his forehead lovingly. "Sorry, hun, there will be none of that tonight. You're drunk as a skunk."

He laughed for a second but then went back into woozy-land, eyes fluttering closed.

Now that he was ready for bed, (y/n) pulled back the covers, gently guiding him to lay back. She drew the sheets up to his chest as he nestled into bed.

"You're the bes'," he slurred, drifting off to sleep.

(Y/n) ran her fingers through his wavy hair, kissing his temple. "And you, Bradley Bradshaw," she whispered, "Are an adorable drunk."

Tag List:

@calicoevening72 @ellieparker @misconceptionmistress @93joons @levylovegood @azari-anna @samthasworld @padf00ts-l0ver @thefuturewillbeprosperous @hockeyboysarehot @fangirlinc @littlewhiterose @annluca @pcotato @lundqvistisgod @theemeraldbutterfly @winteryoungie @ynbutbetter @n3ssm0nique @princessnnylzays @marchingicenotes7 @sarcastic-sourwolf @caitlyn221b @fogle97 @krmy2386 @storyteller-le @imagines-army @thatwh-0-re @calicoevening72 @americaarse @alexwinchester23 @juniebugg @luckyladycreator2 @shaunaelliott08 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @cassbntp @multifandom-loser @itsmebellaas @johnnycobra84 @pepelachanel @sbrewer21 @altheadarling @pumpkin-sage @craziblondi: @lovemesomevesey @peaches-1999 @im-your-possession @chaoticassidy @erinarmy0618 @dilfsandtherapy @callsign-milano @katiemcrae

[animatorweirdo]

When the dragons fly

All started well, Aelon learns sword fighting from you and goes to pick some berries with his friends, but then they decide to make a little challenge. 

Chapter 3

Warnings: Mentions of rough training in the past, mentions of children dying in the past, some children deciding to misbehave and break some rules and some creepiness. 

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

Birds were singing, bees and butterflies were flying, and wooden sticks were hitting against each other as you danced around Aelon as he tried to strike you. "One, two, three –" You struck back three times, and he managed to block your attacks before trying to hit you from your side. 

"Whoops!" You jumped out of the way and gently smacked him in the back, which made him fall forward and faceplant on the grass. A groan left Aelon's mouth as he lay defeated on the ground. You chuckled since it sounded more dramatic than painful, so you knew he wasn't hurt. 

"You left yourself open again, so you might want to think about your next move carefully rather than going for it and possibly planting yourself to the ground," You explained, helping him up from the ground. Aelon's eyes almost dropped, and there was a tired expression on his face. "Can we take a break? We have been doing this all morning now?" He whined. "We have only been training for twenty minutes," You smiled at his dramatics. 

He yawned, finding your sword fighting lesson boring as always. You shook your head since you knew he was not that tired. It surprised you how Aelon did not find interest in learning how to fight, but you did not mind since he was a peaceful boy. You did not want to force him, so you only persuaded him to learn the basics since the world around you had its own dangers. 

"You know, I don't think I ever need this. Nothing bad has ever happened in our village, so what's the point of learning how to fight," Aelon questioned. "It might have been peaceful for many years, but you never know when things suddenly change, and you’re in life-threatening danger. You might then have a moment when you wished you knew how to hold a sword and kick someone’s butt," You said, which made him giggle when he heard the last phrase. 

"I'll let you go easy if you practice the movement for ten minutes. I need to finish those jams and pastries before the big delivery. Who knows, maybe we can finally make enough money to buy some materials and make a real saddle for Falconer?" You ruffled his hair before giving him the wooden sword.

 "Okay," Aelon smiled and began doing the training routine you had set for him. 

He held the wooden sword, moving forward, back, and to the side like he was dancing with a blade. You watched, making sure he was doing it right and remembering how you used to do the same when your father was training you to become a soldier. It almost sets your mind at ease, knowing you were passing along your father's knowledge, although your training used to be much more strict and brutal.

It made your stomach twist in an unpleasant way when you thought about it. The training many young boys went through was demanding and almost torturous. You faced those things, and they still left you with nightmares. It made you glad Aelon never had to suffer the same thing because some boys of his age did not survive long in the army. 

It was one of the things you were happy to leave behind. You'd rather teach Aelon the basics than make him endure the training.

After watching Aelon do the routine for ten minutes and instructing him for another ten minutes, you both walked back home from your training spot. You trained him in the forest since it allowed less distraction from the village and people. 

Aelon sets the training swords against the wall of your porch. "Hey, Aelon," Eweniel walked up to him. "Hi!" He smiled at her. "Coming back from sword training again?" She asked after noticing the training swords. "Yes, and my sister struck my bottom more than five times," Aelon said while touching his butt. "She's a bit of an abuser," He added. You looked at him with widened eyes after he said that. "I did not strike you that hard. You fell on the ground so many times I was certain you were trying to plant yourself like a little mushroom," You said, making Eweniel giggle. "Are you kidding? I'm certain I have red lines across my butt," Aelon said. "Well, next time, I'm gonna leave a handprint if you keep whining like that," You said back, making him squeal at the thought. 

Eweniel giggled. "Do you wanna come pick berries with us?" She asked. "Sure, if I can go?" Aelon looked at you. "You can go. There's nothing much we're going to do today. Do come back for lunch. I'm making duck today," You said. "Okay, bye!" Aelon ran away with Eweniel. You smiled, shaking your head before going inside. 

Aelon, Eweniel, and Rodrick were in the forest, crouched down and picking berries along with a couple of their friends. They held baskets – meant to take some berries home to their parents, but most got eaten instead.

"Hey, have you guys heard about the latest rumors?" One of their friends, Samuel, spoke out. "I heard there has been some drama among the elves," He stated.

"The elves?" Aelon questioned, a bit confused. "You know, people with long ears, long hair, and glowing like stars in the sky?" Rodrick asked – pulling back his ears to resemble pointy ears. "I know what an elf is. It's just – we never see them around, even though they're said to be the wisest, and they came from the west where the great light once shone or something," Aelon explained while picking some berries in the basket.

"They're also said to be the most violent. My dad said some of them had killed their own kind in cold blood," Rodrick said. "For what?" Aelon frowned. "Who knows? He said they're proud and usually never tell the truth unless it was for their gain," Rodrick shrugged his shoulders. 

"Just like the dark lord that lurks in his iron fortress? Scheming for the world's domination and our enslavement," Eweniel said, shaking her head with a smile. "Don't say that! Our mom said, talking about the – you know who – is a bad omen," Ramuel, Samuel's brother, said. 

"Oh yeah, if you do not go home early, he's gonna send his horrendous orcs to eat you and plague you with nightmares if you do not go to bed," Eweniel said, making Ramuel shudder with fear. "Don't be mean about it. You do know he's real?" Aelon looked at her. "Real or not. He has not been seen around for ages, so does it matter if we talk about him or not?" She questioned, popping a couple of berries into her mouth.

 "Is he gonna send his horrible dragons to eat me?" She smirked at him. 

Rodrick shuddered. "I don't ever want to see a dragon. My dad said they're vicious and would eat me like a snack. So if we ever encounter a strange place and hear something suspicious. We better stay clear of them," He said, which earned nods from Samuel and Ramuel. 

"Ooh, you scared?" Eweniel questioned with a smirk. Rodrick talked back to her while Aelon thought about Falconer and Baleria as they lived in the mountains in the stable you had built from scratch.  You told him about dragons that lived outside your home, how they terrorized people and served a dark valar called Morgoth. Because of that – dragons were not well received, so you taught him to be quiet about Falconer and Baleria.

"You know, there might be good dragons," He said, which earned everyone’s attention. 

"What makes you think that? Have you heard what kind of beast they are and how they serve a darkened god," Rodrick questioned. "Yeah, but what if some dragons didn't like serving him? What if they tried to resist and be free?" Aelon questioned. "Then they probably died because I heard no one who resists the dark lord ever survives the depths of his fortress. My parents once described it as iron hell," Rodrick said. 

"Alright, since you're easily scared by some rumors? How about we make a game to see who's the bravest?" Eweniel questioned. "I'm in," Rodrick said. Ramuel and Samuel nodded, joining in the game. "Alright, any idea what we can do?" Eweniel asked. 

Rodrick hummed, grabbing his chin and thinking for a moment. "Let's go to the forest our parents told us about and see – who can walk the farthest without chickening out," He suggested. “The forbidden one?” Samuel questioned, making Aelon frown. "I don't know. Everyone tells us never to go there, so there might be a reason – why we should not go there," Aelon said. "Come on, Aelon. It will be fun, or are you scared already?" Eweniel smirked. "I wanna be the last one to see him run away like a chicken," She pointed at Rodrick. 

"No – it's just –" Aelon hesitated with his answer. He thought about you and what you would do if he joined the game. He would not break any rules to make you angry. "Come on, Aelon. Are you in or not? Or do you need your sister to hold your hand for you?" Rodrick teased with a smirk. Aelon felt angry for a moment. 

"Okay, I'll join," Aelon said. "Alright, let's all meet at the edge of the forest after lunch, then we see – who's the bravest of us," Rodrick said. At that moment, Aelon silently regretted his decision and willingness to prove his courage. 

He felt embarrassed because he always relied on you, and now he had agreed to break the rules just to prove that he did not always need your help. He felt horrible and couldn’t stop thinking about it, not even at lunch with you. 

He glanced at you. You were peacefully eating the food you had prepared, totally unaware of what he had agreed with his friends. He averted his eyes back to his plate when you looked at him. 

You raised a brow when he continued to eat like he wasn’t looking at you moments ago. It left you with a strange feeling. 

“Is everything alright? Is the duck not to your liking?” You questioned. “No!” Aelon snapped his eyes back on you. “It’s good! It’s good! I like the taste and how soft it is to bite on,” He said, picking up the meat with a fork and placing it inside his mouth. “See?” He said while his mouth was full. You smiled, shaking your head. 

“Good to hear. I almost thought my cooking had become bad all of a sudden since you were not eating,” You joked because you used to be bad at cooking. 

“What’s bothering your mind?” You questioned. Aelon was quiet for a moment, thinking through what he was going to say. “It’s nothing too serious. I’m going to play a game with others to test our fears,” He explained. “Oh, okay. Are you going to pet a turtle? I’m sure Figwit will let you have a try with Greeny again,” You smiled at him. He gulped at the mention of Greeny, Figwit’s pet turtle.

“I think— I’m gonna test my other fears,” He said, making you chuckle. 

“Well, whatever you do, be careful. We do not want any accidents,” You said. “Yeah, we will,” Aelon nodded with a smile, but from the inside, he felt dread about what might happen when he goes into the woods. 

After having lunch with you, Aelon made his way toward the edge of the forest, where he agreed to meet his friends. 

He looked out into the forbidden forest, which sent strange shivers across his back. He had a bad feeling like something terrible would happen if he went with this.

He knew the path to the river and into the mountains like the back of his hand. Therefore, he would easily travel to those places without your company. However, the adults had forbidden all children from ever going into this part of the forest, especially alone. 

He heard terrible things lurk in the shadows, ready to prey on anyone who was not careful enough. 

"Alright, everyone is here?" Rodrick questioned, checking if anyone was missing. "I -" Aelon interpreted, gaining everyone's attention. "I don't think we should do this. What if we encounter a wild beast?" He questioned. 

"Nothing is going to happen. You worry too much. When was the last time you heard someone get attacked by a wild beast?" Rodrick questioned. Aelon remained quiet since he had never heard anyone get attacked by an animal. "What if we get lost?" He asked. "Don't worry. I'm good at finding my way back home, so I can guide us back if we get lost," Eweniel grabbed his hand and smiled at him.  Aelon felt comforted but only for a moment. He tried to come up with another excuse, but when they all looked at him, he couldn't help but yield. "Fine," He gave in. 

"Awesome! Let's get moving while we still have some daylight," Rodrick said, then began leading the way into the forest. Eweniel held onto Aelon's hand, pulling him along. He looked back at the village for a moment, thinking about how upset you would be if you knew where he was going and that he was breaking the rules. He wished deep down nothing would happen during this trip. 

The ground was wet. The children almost tripped many times on the moss. The wind blew the branches, and birds flew among the trees. Aelon felt unnerved since they were not small birds with sweet voices but large dark feathered ravens with deep and haunting voices that made his heart jump with every caw. Aelon tried to hide his nervousness and ignore their cawing. He was never fond of ravens or crows. 

He had heard far too many tales of how ravens and crows were associated with bad omens and death. You once told him how people used them for delivering letters, but it did not comfort him this time. 

The forest began to feel eerier as it became a bit darker thanks to the trees covering the sun and mist rising from the ground. 

Aelon tried to keep himself calm, though, from the inside, he felt paranoid. He had never gone this far from the village. He couldn't help but wonder and silently wished you began to notice his absence.

Aelon yelped as his foot slipped on the moss. Eweniel caught him before he could fall, then Rodrick stopped the group, hearing something in the air. They all stopped to listen, but all they could hear was the branches moved by the wind. 

A raven jumped, making them all jump for a moment. It cawed and flew away. 

Aelon let out a relieved sigh, trying to calm down his racing heart. Eweniel chuckled at the fright, then helped him stand up. Rodrick turned around to face his friends. 

"You know, we should turn back now. We're already miles away from the village, and it looks like no one chickened out. Good work, Aelon. I expected you to turn around when we first stepped here," He smiled at the blond boy. Aelon's face turned red with embarrassment.

"Well, we managed to get this far. Maybe this forest isn't so scary at all," Eweniel said. 

"Can we go back now? If we turn back now, maybe no one will notice we were ever here," Aelon said, trying to sound persuasive. "Good point. If we get back without any suspicion, maybe we won't suffer any punishments," Rodrick said. 

Something snapped, causing everyone to turn their attention around them. 

It was quiet. The silence and the cawing of the ravens and crows made the children feel anxious. 

"We – should probably head back," Rodrick said, stepping back. He began walking back toward the village. Samuel and Ramuel followed, holding each other's hands while Aelon and Eweniel walked behind them.

"See– that wasn't so bad after all," Eweniel said with a smile. "I guess, but I think – I will stay in the village till I'm old enough to be allowed to walk these woods," Aelon said, which made her giggle. 

The two were far behind their friends, so they tried to catch up with them until Aelon heard the snapping sound again. He stopped and inspected his surroundings. 

"What's wrong?" Eweniel asked after he abruptly stopped. 

Aelon listened and soon heard the noise again. Eweniel became wary and looked around with Aelon. 

Aelon’s heart began to race as he suddenly had a terrible feeling of being stalked. 

His eyes then fell upon something dark in the shadows. He noticed two white eyes staring right back at him. 

"What is that?" Eweniel asked in fright when she also noticed the creature. 

The blond-haired boy quickly picked up a rock and tried to intimidate the creature. He yelled, trying to scare it off, but the beast did not flinch at his threat. 

He threw the rock, which hit the creature in the snout. 

The creature growled, picking itself up. Aelon and Eweniel packed away in fright when they saw the creature's enormous size towering over them. It had an ugly hide, and its teeth poked out like horrible spikes, ready to eat. 

"Oh no –" Aelon uttered as he and Eweniel backed away from the beast. He couldn't describe it as anything other than a monstrous wolf. 

At that moment, Aelon pleaded for you to save him. 

The wolf opened its jaws, and the children screamed.

Taglist: @kimnamnu @natchayaphorn​

[jaykaycreates]

Nightmare and Memories: Acceptance

Joker-3 stands before a stone slab, cracked with age and covered in decade-old moss.

"Really should clean this.." He half-heartedly says to no one in particular, trying to distract himself.

He stands in front of the gravestone of his daughter, Annabeth, Staring at the wording on her grave; "Hero of the people" A line reads, for all the people she helped rescue in the dark age, "Daring Spirit" for doing so much for others despite not having the Light to protect herself and then "Loving Daughter" for being the best thing that ever happened in his life. His mind flashes between memories, remembering when he first rescued her from Eliksni ransacking her parent's camp, teaching her how to shoot her first Handcannon, and the countless times she put her life on the line for others.

"Lost in thought, Old man?"

He regains his focus and lifts his head to see the visage of his daughter, unlike the nightmares that taunted him thru the various stages of her life. This Memory was how he remembered her in her final moments; she had passed of old age but never acted like it, and he missed that about her.

"Right... Sorry" He mutters, unable to look at her directly, instead choosing to look at the stone in front of him, feeling the warmth of her glow next to him.

Minutes pass with nothing said, which then turns to hours of standing and staring. The Memory doesn't speak, knowing he needs time.

"I don't-I don't... I-I can't" He finally attempts to speak, still refusing to look at Annebeth directly. "It's been nearly two years... two years since I've been here..."

"And?" Annabeth finally speaks up; Joker can feel her glare at him. He's been at the receiving end of it many times.

"I just... left her alone. I don't deserve to be back here, and she would be... disappointed in me."

"Why?"

"Because I-" His shaky right hand that carries a small case starts to freeze with Stasis. He grips his bicep to steady it and breath slowly, and the Stasis soon dissipates. "She wouldn't like the path I've chosen."

"I disagree. You don't use Stasis to harm others but to protect them. Did you not use it to protect people, humans, and Eliksni during the Vex invasion last year."

"Yes, but-"

"No buts, old man, after all these years, you think it would've gone thru your thick head already. She would be proud of what you've accomplished."

"You even scold like her," He tries to say under his breath before his knees begin to wobble, and he collapses down, dropping the case he was carrying. The case opens to spill out a needle and some thread. While reaching for it, he sees the Memory of Ann crouched in front of him, meeting his gaze, which he refused to look at.

"You need to recognize how much good you do and stop blaming yourself for things out of control." He doesn't say anything.

"During the Red war, when guardians were falling and dying lightless, you fought off the cabal to get as many people out as possible before you left." He doesn't say anything.

"During every conflict, you get into with that hero. You're first thought is how it will affect others." He doesn't say anything.

"She would only be disappointed in you because you are the same stupid old bastard who plays at having a cold heart but cares so much for others and refuses to acknowledge it."

He dips his head, finally breaking eye contact, faceplate touching the cold grass as he lets out a weak chuckle. "You're right. You're always right..." He lifts his head slowly to make eye contact again; lubricant leaks from his eyes as he coughs out. "Thank you, kid, I ne-I needed this..."

"No problem, pops, keep doing what you're doing, and I'm sure she would be proud." Annabeth starts to slowly fade away as she stands straight up.

"Wait, please... don't" He reaches up to her fading form.

"You don't need me anymore, pops. Oh, do me a favor? Tell that Hero thanks from me for keeping you on the right path." She lets out a soft chuckle as the Memory disappears from view. Joker's hand still reaches out, but instead of the Memory in front of him, the gravestone takes her place.

"You got it, kid." He sighs and sits up, wiping the tears from his face plates. After a few moments, he presses the clips on the metal band that keeps his cloak in place. Pulling the torn and tattered cloth over his legs

"It's been a while, huh? Let's fix that." He whispers as he pulls over the thread and needle. He looks up at the gravestone and reaches forward to wipe away some of the moss covering Annabeth's name.

"Okay, kid, time to catch you up. Like old times. So uh, Y'know that Guardian? They were called to Europa and some point and roped me into it.." He begins to trail off, recounting tales of new eliksni houses, unlikely alliances, and revelations from the past two years while stitching together the blanket that once belonged to his daughter.

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