#how they themselves feel a little alienated from the rest of the world

[ruvviks]

// oc deep dive.

tagged by; @aztarion and @devilbrakers, thank you so much!!

tagging; @mojaves, @deadrlngers, @ordinarymaine, @claudiawolf, @adelaidedrubman and YOU!

What common/uncommon fear do they have?

Nathan has a lot of fears stemming from his paranoia. Tangible ones such as getting captured or killed by MOBIUS, his friends walking away from him, or someone following him home; as well as more unrealistic ones, such as somehow ending up back in STEM, or getting stuck in a time loop, or a giant sinkhole all the way to the core of the earth opening up right at his feet.

It also happens often enough that certain actions don’t necessarily scare him, but make him uncomfortable or highly on edge (often with good reason); think of someone locking the door of the room he’s in– especially when it’s just them two– or getting too close without warning. He often fears people he gets too close to will end up treating him like the Administrator did, which is why it takes a while for him to let Sebastian get any closer physically, despite warming up to him relatively fast.

A more uncommon fear he has is waking up one morning and having lost one of his senses or his ability to speak. Aside from the mental erosion that had become a growing issue among Union citizens, MOBIUS observed a similar kind of process in its agents who regularly jumped in and out of STEM for general maintenance and the like– presumably caused by the constant changes in brain activity, which more than often led to exactly what Nathan’s fear mentioned above describes. While he was among the agents who worked both in and outside of STEM on the Union environment, he was lucky enough to never suffer the consequences.

Lastly, he is deadly afraid of Anima. Despite not having shown any other symptom of succumbing to the STEM domination process, Nathan would have started seeing her around sometime before Lily vanished– presumably got her attention after some of his escapades in the secret labs in the Marrow– and he has not been able to sleep soundly in STEM ever since. While his fear of her mostly acts up when he’s in a STEM environment, it definitely translates over to the real world as well; during bad mental health episodes he has auditory hallucinations of her, and she makes regular appearances in his nightmares too.

Do they have any pet peeves?

When people are too passive. Nathan can’t stand it when he’s expected to initiate everything, from conversations to taking action, both in a work context (scheduling meetings, deploying new code) as well as personal context (scheduling to hang out, doing household chores). He also doesn’t like having to constantly ask people to do what they’re supposed to do– though this irritation more than often extends a little too far, to things he is expecting of people but never told them about.

Loud and unexpected noises, especially when done on purpose. Fireworks would be a great example of this, and they piss Nathan off no end. He gets snippy when people raise their voice at him for no reason, or when they keep banging their fist on a surface to get others’ attention.

Getting cut off in traffic. Nathan’s road rage is easily awakened and he can get a little drastic with it. His reflexes are fast enough to brake on time to avoid ending up in someone’s trunk, but will in that same breath speed right back up to crash into them on purpose as revenge for pissing him off.

What are three items you can find in their bedroom?

A large ring binder full of old code snippets, notes from various projects he worked on back at MOBIUS, and all his research ranging from neuroscience all the way to electrical engineering. Nathan is a little old-school in that regard– he’d much rather have all his research physically with him than save it all to some online storage platform and risk losing it like that.

A jigsaw puzzle, made entirely out of different pieces that he’s collected over the years (stolen from others’ puzzles, found in various locations, stolen directly from the store, etc). The full piece would total up to nearly 2000 pieces, though it is still missing a large chunk in the center; the result is an abstract piece containing mostly darker colors, though with various bursts of color scattered around like flowers in a field. Nathan isn’t the artistic type, but the project keeps him busy and he considers it a type of self-expression.

The knife he killed his parents with when he was sixteen years old. He’s not entirely sure why he kept it all those years– perhaps to remind himself what got him to where he is now, or because it’s the only thing he still has from that time of his life. Either way, it’s kept safe in the top drawer of his nightstand, easy enough to reach in case someone breaks into his apartment.

What do they notice first in a person?

First: State of mind, overall mood. How approachable do they look; can he afford to lower his guard or does he need to tread with caution, can he get close without worrying about a knife to the stomach or should he keep his distance? Nathan rarely shows immediate interest in someone’s overall personality, he would rather want to know which of their emotions he’s gonna have to deal with during their interaction(s).

Second: Body language. Ties in with the first thing mentioned– cautiously watching for threats, waiting to see if they make a move to touch (or harm) him so he can step out of their range. But it also extends a little further; Nathan tends to mimic others’ body language in conversation to make himself appear more approachable. If someone gestures a lot, he will do the same.

Third: Their smile, if relevant. Smiling is an eye-catching action to him, since he’s not one to quickly do so himself. It’s attractive to him; if someone smiles at him, you’ll be able to catch him staring.

Fourth: Scars, and other (skin) details. Nathan isn’t one to ask about them, of course– but they’ll catch his attention anyway, for a brief moment, since some of them already tell a story on their own even without words.

Fifth: Nervous tics, if relevant. By this point he’s been in conversation long enough to pick up on the little details– a slight thrill or shakiness to their voice, a thumb running over the side of their index finger, a nose twitch. In some cases it eases his mind, knowing the other person isn’t confident in their conversation either; in other cases it sets off alarms in his mind, and makes him wonder if there’s more going on than what they’re showing or telling him.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

Physically: 7. While he doesn’t quite look like it, Nathan can take a hit or two. Most of his injuries happen in STEM– though with the way the technology works, the pain is very much real, and in some cases the scars are lasting even in the real world despite the damage having been sustained in STEM. To an extent, Nathan even enjoys the pain; it’s grounding for him, and keeps him from dissociating. When it gets too much to handle he simply drinks it away.

Mentally: 10. Nathan’s life has been a constant downward spiral; sent to a youth detention center after being wrongfully accused of killing his younger sister, and he was bullied relentlessly there, which continued until long after his release both at school and at home. At MOBIUS, he was required to work shifts in their HQ as well as in the Marrow, in the Union STEM environment– he was required to be mentally strong, or he would have already started suffering from mental erosion by long-term STEM exposure after his first few trips in. It takes a lot to break him (or so he likes to believe).

Emotionally: 4. Once you get past all the barriers, Nathan is pretty sensitive. He doesn’t deal well with rejection or misunderstanding, and is prone to assuming things are all his fault the second something goes wrong. It’s easy to upset him, though he won’t easily show; but the damage often takes a while to repair.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? (Or freeze or fawn?)

Fight, more than often; though it may appear as flight at first, since Nathan’s favored combat approach is stealth and he will always find cover before doing anything rash. In certain cases, however, he would be more likely to freeze; especially anything related to Anima or an enemy type like her, where fighting is out of the question, and he knows that a single wrong move can mean his demise.

It translates to non-combat situations too– often willing to talk to people but his initial response is to get defensive and close himself off, and if not given a moment to regain himself it can lead to either fighting or freezing; biting back with similar ferocity or shutting down altogether, unable to pick up his rational train of thought in the heat of the moment.

It really depends on the type of confrontation, though; taking his own state of mind and who else is involved into consideration. He’s known to fawn when a situation starts feeling a little too familiar– generally surrounding the abuse he suffered from partially his parents, but mostly the Administrator.

What animal represents them best?

Wolf; bordering on dog motif, but cautiously so, requiring infinite patience and understanding to win his trust. Nathan is loyal and guarding to those he cares about, but he values his freedom– his choices and decisions are his and his alone, and anyone who tries to take that away from him will suffer the necessary consequences.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Curious, above anything else. Distant, reserved; surprisingly well-spoken, almost technical in his interactions with others as if the whole conversation is pre-programmed in his mind. Nathan isn’t necessarily cold towards others, but people would also not be quick to describe him as kind; though there is a certain warmth to the way he speaks and looks at people, despite the fact he very rarely smiles and isn’t one to quickly compliment someone else.

Appearance-wise, people tend to notice the white strands in his black hair first. They’re clustered at the front of his head, and match with the white hairs in his left eyebrow and the white eyelashes in the outer corner of his left eye. Nathan has very pale and rough skin, patchy but dark facial hair covering up most of his acne (/scarring); and part of the skin around his left eyebrow is lacking pigment, though it’s a little hard to see. He has very pale and bright blue eyes, which can be a little unnerving when staring at them for too long. Many people cannot maintain eye contact with him for very long.

Do they have any hobbies?

Nathan’s career is directly intertwined with his hobbies, and he enjoys working on code even long after cutting ties with MOBIUS. Software development, application optimization– his laptop runs on an operating system that he coded entirely himself, and whenever he has some time to spare he can be found tweaking and optimizing it and adding new features.

To no one’s surprise, he’s a gamer. Shooters, roguelikes, survival horror– he does not play all too often as his schedule often doesn’t allow for it, but he generally doesn’t have a hard time playing on higher difficulties and enjoys the challenge. Nathan has tried his hand at game design and development too, but stopped quickly when he found it too similar to developing the Union environment in STEM.

And last, surprisingly, would be writing. Journaling, some sort of attempt at poetry, or articles he would want to send in to some website or appropriate magazine but never does– a lot of Nathan’s writing is for his eyes alone, but it helps as an outlet, it keeps him grounded. For a while after leaving MOBIUS, he worked on writing tech manuals for various employers to earn some extra cash, which also ties directly into his interests.

[sightseertrespasser]

Sunny Side Screw-Up part 2

Me: Hey, what if Bluestreak was a great sniper because Tacnet enabled him to view the world in slow motion, kinda like bullet time?

Later me: Wait, what if he experienced Bullet Time All the Time and THAT’s why he’s like that?

The mecha AU was spawned by @keferon, go check ‘em out!

———————————————————————

For hours, Prowls processor continued to spiral well after Jazz disconnected the drift bond. The steady crackle from Bluestreaks currently inactive comm lines did little to settle him.

Individually, Prowl curled each of his digits, then released. The fingers Ratchet replaced were still numb. But the phantom pains stayed sharp.

“Hey.” A hoarse whisper at his hip got Prowl to online his optic.

“You should be resting, Jazz.” The Praxian whispered back. If Ratchet saw them both up the doctor would likely make good on some of his threats. Or Deadlock would.

“I’m gonna.” The human leaned against his side, shoulders wrapped in a spare blanket.

“You’re lying.” Prowl stated as flatly as if he’d pointed out Jazz was bipedal.

“Hmm, just getting it out of my system so you know I’m gonna be serious next.” When the pilot moved to climb up Prowl’s thigh, he gave him a slight boost with one servo. Weak as Prowl was, Jazz still weighed basically nothing.

“Ratchet said you already pushed past your limits for the day. I do not think it’d be wise to reconnect right now.” Prowl watched Jazz for every minute tremble, delicately adjusting the plane of his servo to support him as evenly as possible.

“We pushed it today. And s’alright. Wasn’t going for that.” Jazz laid back in Prowls palm, getting comfortable.

Given the pattern of their past interactions, Prowl preemptively readjusted to lay down on as well, before Jazz could begin guilting/bargaining/tricking him into resting properly.

Jazz, knowingly, smiled.

“I know you’re scared for him. But Bluestreak is gonna be fine Prowler. He’s got you, and you’ve got us.”

“I had myself and you and I still got vivisected.” It was a low blow and still a raw wound for the both of them. His missing platting stung.

Jazz closed his eyes. Prowl could still hear the echos of what thoughts that would be racing through his head.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. This is a nightmare scenario and I can’t believe you aren’t completely loosing your shit right now.” A sour note came through his field. “I just don’t want you to fry yourself with worrying.”

Prowl sighed, “I have come to terms with our current limitations. The plan currently underway is definitely the best chance we can possibly give him.”

“I do not have enough information to predict how the Twins will conduct themselves..” Prowl briefly paused to send a scheduled Check In ping to Bluestreak. Continuing once he received the Return ping.

“But I know my brother, and that’s what has me worried.” Despite himself, Prowl felt his face almost twitch a smile when Jazz’s EM field chimed against his palm. He could feel the human silently laugh.

“Little brothers are something else, but have a little faith in him okay? Bluestreak just needs to play it cool until we can debrief the Twins. He doesn’t even have to actually lie. All he needs to do is walk and shoot, and I’ve seen him shoot.”

Jazz rolled onto his side to face Prowl, who still frowned but was coming around.

“Look, it took me nearly two days to figure out I was literally surrounded by aliens who weren’t even trying to hide it.”

“You had a concussion.” Prowl grumbled.

“And I’m a very clever fucker.” Jazz raised a pointed finger.

The human snuggled back into his blanket, “Never in a million years is anyone just gonna guess he’s an alien shaped like a mecha.”

Prowl hummed in assent, choosing to let his systems wind down, save for his Comms.

Yawning, Jazz finished his thought, “The only way they’d find out he’s from space is if Bluestreak straight up told them.”

———————

“And that star cluster is about where Cybertron is!”

The fading red-gold of the sunset had given way to dusty dark blue twilight. This far from any civilization, the stars did not shy from taking the stage early, casting the desert in a cool toned glow.

Sideswipe looked where he was pointing and nodded along. Sunstreaker likewise examined the sky for a moment before continuing their trek.

“You guys are good listeners.” The Praxian smiled.

Bluestreak shifted how he was holding his rifle for the nth time that afternoon. “I wish I could just subspace this but Jazz said that would be too openly weird and you guys might try tearing my hip apart.”

Unsurprisingly, Sunstreaker showed no sudden comprehension of Bluestreak’s native language. The yellow mecha was too preoccupied with digging out a quint fang from his plating. Similarly unaware, Sideswipe had found a small boulder and played an improvised game of how long he could kick it along their path.

Bluestreak checked his Tacnet Dilation: 25%.

“Did you know I taught Prowl and Smokescreen how to use Tacnet to shoot better? Cause I did. They taught me pretty much everything else though about how to function. They’re my brothers by the way, which is kinda funny to think about since you guys are brothers too but ‘organic brothers’ are kinda different from ‘Cybertronian brothers’. We’re all Cold Constructs designed by the same people but that doesn’t actually have anything to do with being brothers.” With family on his processor, the Praxian flicked a ‘Hey guys!’ out of habit without thinking. He didn’t notice the twins simultaneously pause for a second beside him.

“The word translates directly into English but I think the origins are totally different. A literal translation of “Brothers” in Cybertronian would be something like “Those who are most familiar to me.”

He counted the decimal points of each passing click to pace himself. Making sure he was talking at a socially acceptable level. After 4 clicks, his will broke down and the gap of silence was filled.

“Hey want to hear how we met?” Bluestreak looked up at the hulking mechas with wide optics, questioning tone riding through the air.

The twins looked at each other briefly before shrugging.

Aside from his brothers, mechs that knew his particular reputation would take that pause in his chatting as an escape route from the conversation.

Bluestreak understood. It’s why he tried to leave gaps in. He scuffed his peds in the dirt while waiting for a response.

A curled servo came into his peripheral vision. With a little difficulty, Sunstreaker gave him a crude thumbs up, his mecha not really built for fine motor controls.

“Really?” Bluestreak beamed, checking in with Sideswipe as well who was also nodding in the positive.

The Praxian began his tale, “So it happened a little under two million years ago.”

——————

The crowd around the train station moved in a tightly packed slow motion torrent.

“-taken at specified slots-“

“-one hundred and fifty shanix is-“

“-consult the map if she really-“

Words, sentences, broken paragraphs and contradictory orders buzzed across his processor. His internal dictionary pulling up definitions and explanations almost too fast to keep up with.

Tacnet Dilation: Increase to 75%?

Huh?

[Yes]?

Oh!

That’s so much better.

If he picked out one voice at a time, he could decipher each glyph as they came and string it together. Mildly entranced by how they interlocked and changed the information they carried as it dripped into his echoing memory banks.

For example:

“Get out of the way you useless cop!”

An upward swing from behind struck him, jamming his doorwings at the apex of their mobility.

The mech would have fallen forward if the density of the crowd allowed it. They stumbled, struggling to stay upright as the mass of mechs around him pushed inexorably toward the trains.

New information came through. Bright boxes burst across his vision and new words wrote themselves on his processor. This new sensory input was competing with every other piece of stimulus for his immediate attention.

He didn’t like it.

What is it?

[Pain]

Oh, is this a setting that can be changed?

[Pain - Repair - Reset- Doorwing (1)]

[Pain - Repair - Reset - Doorwing (2)]

How? How do I fix them?

[Pain - Repair - Reset]

I don’t understand?

[Pain - Repair - Reset]

The logic branch repeated incessantly, almost as bad as the distraction of the pain itself.

The praxian began asking every mech who passed nearby how to reset his doorwings. Sometimes, they’d kindly tell him they couldn’t help. Other times they’d push him off harshly, fields flashing with hostility. One even told him to go jump on the tracks. Before he could actually consider how that’d help, an orange mech scolded the harsh one and pulled the praxian to where they could speak into his audial.

They told him they couldn’t fix his problem, but if he found other mechs with doorwings like his, they would help him.

“How do I find them?”

The orange mech adjusted a pair of spectacles, smiling, “Just listen to your wings young one, you’ll get there.”

It was then he realized something else was coming through the sensor net of his doorwings. A muffled, irregular pulsing, coming from one of the train cars.

He forgot to thank the skinny mech and pushed through the crowd, past the overwhelmed conductor.

Reduced Sensory Input, Tacnet Dilation: Decrease to 25%?

[Yes]

The inside of the train car was packed, no one would be leaving without numerous scraps and dents by the end of their journey. He tried not to flinch every time a passenger bumped into his back with very little success. Spurred on by pain and desperation, the Praxian pushed rudely past the other passengers who each added new and exciting expletives to his steadily growing lexicon.

He followed the signals like a lifeline to the back of the train.

Two Praxian enforcers sat side by side, doorwings flicking intermittently. Both of them leaned forward with their elbows on their knees, either from the exhaustion clearly written across their faces or simply because the bench they sat on wasn’t made to accommodate the extra limbs on their backs.

One was blue with a yellow chevron, lazily leaking smoke to pool against the ceiling. Seemingly absorbed in people watching.

{ ···· · -·--     ·--· --··--     ··· · ·     - ···· ·     --- -· ·     ·-- ·· - ····     - ···· ·     ···- ·· ··· --- ·-· ··--·· }

The other was monochrome save for a bright red chevron, scanning the crowd with a critical optic, locking onto his approach.

{ ··     ·-· · --· ·-· · -     - · ·-·· ·-·· ·· -· --·     -·-- --- ··-     ·- -· -·-- - ···· ·· -· --· }

{ ·· ’ --     ···· · ·-·· ·--· ·· -· --· }

{ ··- -· -·- -· --- ·-- -·     · -· ··-· --- ·-· -·-· · ·-·     ·- ·--· ·--· ·-· --- ·- ---- ·· -· --· }

The praxians straightened, the blue one offering a casual smile and a welcoming field.

“Hey there! Can we help you?”

He almost crashed to the floor, stumbling to stand before them.

“Yes! Yes! Hello! I need help! I’ve been trying to find someone to help with my doorwings for what feels like forever but everyone I’ve talked to has told me to go away or go frag myself or go ask someone else and then somebody told me to come in here or really they actually told me to follow my doorwings which was actually kinda hard because they hurt a lot and all the warnings I’m getting are making it kinda hard to focus on anything and nobody has let me finish talking the entire time!”

The optics of the black and white praxian got steadily wider as he spoke, taking in the information with an otherwise motionless posture.

The blue one took it in stride, waving him to get closer, “Alright, c’mere and turn around real quick.”

Gratefully, he followed the clear instructions and did just that.

The blue one hummed, “Oh that’s an easy fix.”

His doorwings twinged in their slots at the feeling of the mechs servos on his back. “Sorry, this’ll pinch a little.” And with two practiced twists, the mech braced one servo against his back and popped the hinges back in place.

He hissed at the initial sting but relief immediately flooded his sensor net.

“Is the Doorwing injury related to why you are covered in ash?” The monochrome mech spoke for the first time.

“Hmm? Oh no, someone just ran into me from behind. He was yelling something about useless cops?” He could see the irises of the praxians optics cycling as he spoke. The mechs mouth thinned to a line as his brow furrowed.

The other didn’t seem to notice, laughing heartily, “Oh trust me that’s not the last time you’ll hear that. Next time call your squad in to book the guy for assault on an officer. You new here?”

He smiled, doorwings fluttering involuntarily at being asked a non clinical question for the first time ever. “Yes! I’m very new! Everything is so new! Who are you two?”

Something clicked for the other mech. Doorwings drooping, “Um, Smokescreen?”

The blue mech, Smokescreen, ignored him. Instead, he wrapped an arm around the mechs shoulders and pulled him in, “Well this here is my little brother Prowl, I promise he’s slightly less of a stick in the gears than he first appears. We’d show you around our precinct, but it kinda burnt down this morning.”

“Smokescreen.” Prowl hissed.

“So what’s your designation and your placement new guy?” Smokescreen beamed at him with a sooty grin.

“My designation is P-E 2102. Aaaand the building I was being tested in caught fire, so I have no idea!” He rocked on his peds.

Smokescreen gave him a slightly curious once over.

Meanwhile, Prowl crossed his arms and looked unimpressed with his older brother.

Prowl turned back to him, “A follow up question, if you are able to answer, P-E 2102. When were you constructed?”

He checked his memory banks, “Two cycles ago!”

Smokescreen choked, coughing up a small cloud of exhaust. Prowl automatically thumped a servo against his back to help.

“Right.” The elder Praxian recovered, coughing into his fist and straightening up again. “So you’re two cycles old huh? That explains.. some things.”

Unconsciously, P-E 2102 pulled his doorwings in, not yet knowing what to call the awkward energy that spilled into the train car. The only mech seemingly unaffected was Prowl.

“Typically, once you make it through Quality Control a mech is assigned to act as your mentor to answer questions and bring you up to speed on how to function in society.” Prowl glanced at his brother. “Their designation should be tagged with your factory designation. We’ll assist in contacting them for your retrieval.”

Internally, P-E 2102 pulled his factory designation back up, and did indeed find what Prowl was talking about.

“Oh okay, it looks like I’m assigned to someone named Barricade?” He smiled again, happy to have a clear path forward after so much uncertainty. The two older Praxians immediately, silently looked at each other.

Optics wide, Smokescreen gave him a massive showman style grin, announcing loud enough for the whole train to hear, “Nooope!”

“Um, what?” He new forge looked confused, optics flitting between the two of them.

The eldest praxian nudged Prowl to scoot over. “Nope!” He clapped his servos on his knees for emphasis. “That is not happening. You’re actually going to be my ward now. Last minute update. You know how office work gets.”

“This is a terrible idea.” Prowl grumbled but still moved to make room. “You aren’t qualified to mentor more than one ward. You wouldn’t even be my mentor if the Council hadn’t lowered the age requirement.”

Smokescreen patted the new space between them, “Go ahead and take a seat newbie. And Prowl? C’mon. You haven’t needed me for literal vorns.”

He squeezed into the space between them. It took a bit to figure out how to overlap their doorwings, but once they folded together, the new forge felt more secure than he’d ever been in his life.

Which wasn’t very long but still.

“First things first, you need a proper des.” Smokescreen poked him in the chassis. Briefly frowning at the grime left on his digit. “And a proper paint job.”

“Oh can I be red? I think I like red. And orange. And yellow. I like warm tones in general really. But I think just red for now.” He pointed up at Prowls chevron for reference.

“It is a striking color.” Prowl nodded sagely. “It will suit you fine, though I request you do not completely copy my appearance to avoid future confusion.”

He hummed, already considering the ash grey covering his plating. He didn’t think it looked too bad actually.

“We’ll get the paint sorted later, now how about a proper name? I don’t believe in assigning one over your own choice, so you gotta pick.”Smokescreen leaned back, not giving away any clues of what options laid before him.

“Hmm.” He studied the signage outside the train. “Something with blue in it?”

“Blue?” Prowl raised an eye ridge. “Didn’t you just say you wanted to be painted red?”

“Well yeah. I like the color red but I like the word blue.” He said rationally and sensibly.

Prowl could find no argument and accepted the information for what it was.

Smokescreen tapped his shoulder. “Gonna need something a little more complex than just Blue, buddy. It’s a pretty popular des.”

“Oh how about Blueline!”

A few eavesdroppers snorted at the announcement, a small wave of mirth echoing around the mostly reserved fields of the crowd.

There was a long pause.

“That.. is the name of the train we are currently riding.” Prowl slowly pointed out.

“Ah.”

Voice an octave higher, Smokescreen gave a slightly pained albeit encouraging grin. “Yeeeah. Maybe try one more time?”

The young mech rested his chin on his servos, rapidly tapping his digits. “Is Blue streak taken?”

Prowl and Smokescreen considered the name. Internally, Prowl scanned over something for a moment. “I do not see any other registrations for that designation. It is indeed available.”

“Then Bluestreak it is!” Proclaimed Smokescreen, who clapped a servo around Prowls far shoulder, squishing Bluestreak between them.

Bluestreak whooped, sirens he didn’t know he had briefly going off before Prowl rushed to teach him how to turn them back down.

With a sense of finality, the train at last closed its doors and pulled out of Praxus. Bluestreak watched the skyscrapers dance in streams of gold and red.

Tacnet Dilation: 125%

The sounds of the train car moved treacle slow. Bluestreak turned to his new brothers and in a voice that sounded strangely deep to his own audials, asked them “Why is Praxus burning?”

They glanced at each other again, passing silent communication born of familiarity. When he eventually spoke, Bluestreak could hear the buzz of Smokescreens vocalizer activating the click before the consonants of his words rumbled forward like distant thunder, “There’s a war, a civil war. We’re still deciding where to go.”

“Can I come?” The question came so easily.

A pause that lasted a thousand years crawled by, as the train swept into a long dark tunnel with no clear end.

“Yeah.” Smokescreen said, “You can come.”

——————

“And to make a long story short, we ended up joining the Decepticons because well, the Functionalist Council kinda claimed all surviving CC Praxian Enforcers as ‘Government Property’.” Bluestreak made quotations with his digits.

Not for the first time, Bluestreak glanced at his audience. It was difficult to read the twins, Sunstreaker especially, but Bluestreak thought he was starting to get a hold of their personalities.

He vaguely remembered Jazz saying he had an unusually high affinity for piloting mecha, and hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Now that he was spending time with “regular” pilots, Bluestreak couldn’t help but stare at the stark difference.

Jazz made it work, easily translating laid back body language and a friendly demeanor through several tons of non living machinery.

But the twins? There were times when the Twins reminded him of Empurata victims, their fine movements unnaturally stunted and their incredibly restricted means of self expression coming off as awkward at best. Drone like at worst.

And yet, like clouds passing through an Uncanny Valley, Bluestreak would see bits of their true selves slip out.

For example, the three of them had just come up to a broad shallow stream running across the sandy earth. Sunstreaker stalked right up to the shore, knelt down to dip a cupped hand into water and wasted no time in splashing it across his plating. While his brother attempted to clean himself of the filth they’d accumulated from the day, Sideswipe pointedly looked Bluestreak in the optics and raised a single finger to his visor.

Bluestreak tilted his helm, understanding the meaning of gesture but not the why.

Casually admiring the scenery, Sideswipe tiptoed behind his brothers back, hands clasped in the picture of nonchalant innocence.

And then kicked him square in the back.

Tacnet Dilation: 50%

BLUESTREAK: [Uh Prowl?]

Abruptly flattened face first into the sand, Sunstreaker raised one arm and punched into the earth beneath the stream. He rose with a measured, predatory speed.

BLUESTREAK: [Not an emergency. I think.]

Regardless, the Praxian still backed away from the beach. Tacnet stretching out the clicks for Prowl to answer into wisp thin strands of time.

BLUESTREAK: [But please still respond.]

Sideswipe made a show of pointing a finger at his brother while almost doubled over. Frame absolutely shaking with silent laughter.

PROWL: [I’m here. What is it?]

Whip fast, a clawed hand fisted itself around Sideswipes collar, yanking him off his feet. The red mecha vanished, reappearing on the opposite bank, laying prone in a brand new crater.

BLUESTREAK: [So the twins are fighting.]

Tacnet Dilation: 100%

Bluestreak watched as Sideswipes arms rotated backwards, punching off the earth with explosive momentum and launching himself towards the yellow mecha.

In a clear display of practice, Sunstreaker caught him with a shoulder to the chest, slamming his brother back first into the water with enough force to make it rain.

PROWL: [Each other?]

BLUESTREAK: [Yep.]

Sideswipe twisted his waist around almost 90 degrees and suddenly had the leverage to dig his clawed feet into the ground, flipping Sunstreaker back into the water.

Tacnet held steady at 100% dilation, slowing the fight to a pace that Bluestreak could actually follow. To anyone else, it’d be a blur of red and yellow plating churning through indecipherably dense sprays of water droplets.

Once, back on the Lost Light, Bluestreak had asked Prowl what was it that drew him to Jazz. Prowl, naturally, gave a highly clinical answer, “Jazz is highly competent. Tacnet likes competence.”

Of course, Bluestreak made fun of him at the time for hiding his feelings behind his battle computer.

But uh.

He was kinda getting it now.

Every awkward gesture, every stilted performance at normal body language from before evaporated instantaneously. There wasn’t a hundred feet of separation between their hands and their brains anymore, the pilots filled their mecha out to the very finger tips. Swift and precise and alive.

To Tacnet, these weren’t machines anymore, but men.

Very competent men.

PROWL: [This is apparently normal behavior for them. Keep your distance and wait it out.]

Bluestreak nearly dropped his rifle, juggling it in slow motion as his frame struggled to move as fast as his processor.

BLUESTREAK: [Yep got it.]

BLUESTREAK: [Will be observing closely.]

BLUESTREAK: [From a distance.]

BLUESTREAK: [I’ll be observing closely from a distance I mean.]

BLUESTREAK: [I am completely fine.]

By the time he’d pinned the stock against his chassis, he’d sent Prowl about half a dozen more messages, all following in a continuously self correcting pattern.

PROWL: [Bluestreak. Paragraphs please.]

He reeled Tacnet back to the standard 25% dilation and watched the fight continue at normal speed. Occasionally, Bluestreak noticed one of their visors would turn his way before snapping back to focus on pummeling each other into the ground

Are they watching to make sure I didn’t leave? Or… are they watching to make sure I’m watching?

When they were younger, Smokescreen would sometimes get a hold of fuzzy holovids of old gladiator fights, (or questionably sourced security footage) and drag Prowl and him to his hab suite to watch. On a purely superficial level, he claimed it was for “Tacnet training” and taught them both how to zero in on hundreds of little tells that’d determine who’d the winner of the match would be right from the opening move.

They played a game where whoever correctly guessed the outcome of the match first would be the winner. Bonus points for predicting the correct finishing move. Prowl and Smokescreen would get ridiculously competitive. Or rather, Smokescreen always won and it drove Prowl up the wall. Years later, Smokescreen would whisper what the secret was to him over a bottle of high grade: Prowl never considered not all mechs fight to win.

This was a performance.

Every blow the twins traded landed on the thickest parts of their armor. The flashing exposures of their most delicate components were brief but frequent, always left untouched.

His digits twitched where he held the rifle.

Two targets (moving, distracted) within close firing range. Estimated reaction time: 2.2 clicks. Estimated time between shots: 1.4 clicks.

Tacnet Dilation: 100%

Manual Override, Tacnet Dilation: 25%

Bluestreak turned up his ventilations and stamped down on Tacnet, blocking out anymore suggestions by tunelessly humming some random jingle he’d heard about a million years ago.

Eventually, the fight wound down on its own without a winner. Sunstreaker helped Sideswipe up, and that was that.

Watching the two stomp out of the water, Bluestreak raised a thumbs up, “You guys good?”

The twins responded in the affirmative, each giving the other one last shove before resuming their flanking positions beside the sniper. Setting out once more.

Several hours later, the stars had dimmed as the sky turned powder blue.

The broad flat expanse of the rocky desert begged to be raced across. The variation in the terrain with its short stoney shelves and dried river bed roads would have been fantastic tracks for a spur of the moment race.

If I was allowed to that is.

The sand and grit from the environment was starting to grind uncomfortably in his joints. His peds ached more from the knowledge that he didn’t need to walk than from the physical exertion of the hike itself.

“On a scale of one to ten, how badly would you guys react if I turned into a car right now?” He panted, keeping careful watch of his coolant levels as the sun rose over the horizon. “Like a five maybe? A five seems about right for the situation.”

The twins simultaneously stopped.

Bluestreaks doorwings flicked nervously, “Is this your way of saying it’s a three?”

Steadily, Sideswipe lowered into a low crouch, vents hissing steam and visor going dark. There was a subtle click of joints locking into place.

Sunstreaker picked a rocky shelf and sat, keeping both of them in his line of sight

BLUESTREAK: [The twins are doing something weird and new. Sunstreaker is just watching but Sideswipe is squatting for some reason and it looks like he just went into recharge?]

While Bluestreak worried the inside of his cheek, Sunstreaker waved at him and patted the stone by his side.

Hesitantly and not wanting to potentially offend the alien hunter, Bluestreak took the offered seat. Thankfully, Sunstreaker seemed mollified by this and went back to staring at the horizon.

PROWL: [Ratchet says it sounds like they’re taking shifts resting. Given the length of time you’ve been traveling together, they may expect you to “power down” for a while as well.]

BLUESTREAK: [So what you’re saying is I have to fake being in recharge while sitting upright, outdoors in the sun and in heavily implied to be quint infested territory?]

PROWL: [Yes.]

BLUESTREAK: [Great. Awesome. Thank you. This is totally fine.]

PROWL: [I’m sorry.]

Okay now that was a red flag.

Angry Prowl meant “There is a problem and I will not physically stop until it is obliterated.”

Apologetic Prowl meant even he couldn’t deal with the problem.

The sheer scale of how fucked he was finally set in.

Tacnet Dilation: 125%

Tacnet Dilation: 150%

Tacnet Dilation: 225%

Time curled up into a little ball on the floor.

The only thing that stopped Tacnet from going past 300% was a wedged in bit of coding Bluestreak had forcibly added after a truly nightmarish near death experience at 500% dilation.

Logically, he knew he still had control over his frame, but the sheer delay in response felt like he was paralyzed.

Don’t force it. Don’t force it. Don’t force yourself to move, everything you try to do will add to the queue and it’ll hit all at once.

He wished Sunstreaker could talk, Bluestreak couldn’t deal with silence. Silence was like trying to keep track of passing time by staring at a blank wall. At least when there was noise, the pitch could clue him in and keep his mind semi tethered to the actual rate of things happening around him.

The dinks of his digits curling against his servos finally registered from when he started the motion all the way back when Prowl said he was sorry.

The faint pressure just was enough to start his thought process again.

Manual Override, Tacnet Dilation: 200%

Manual Override, Tacnet Dilation: 150%

Manual Override, Tacnet Dilation: 100%

Feeling spread back into his frame as sensory input raced back to his processor. From Bluestreaks perspective, it felt like he’d just lunched forward, helm between his knees. From the outside it probably just looked like a slow miserable curl.

He tried not to purge.

When his doorwings picked up on movement from Sunstreaker, he froze. Hyperaware of how bizarre his behavior must look.

A heavy hand not designed for anything other than ripping and tearing settled between his doorwings, lightly patting.

Bluestreak chanced a glance at the yellow mecha. Sunstreakers visor was as impassive as ever but with his unoccupied hand he raised an “OK” symbol, tilting his head inquisitively.

Letting his vents run at max, Bluestreak swallowed, raising an “OK” back.

“I’m gonna go ahead and pretend to be unconscious now. Thanks for not killing me so far.”

Bluestreak crossed his arms and dimmed his optics, flaring out his doorwings to compensate for the drop in input.

To execute his performance as an unfeeling empty husk of machinery, Bluestreak clenched his jaw and vowed not to speak or move for the next several hours.

Tacnet Dilation: 50%

Or however long it felt like.

———————————————————————

Jazz: “So if you use Tacnet to crunch the numbers on crazy complicated battle simulations, and Bluestreak uses his Tacnet to pull off insane sniper moves, what does Smokescreen use his for?”

Prowl: “Gambling.”

——————

Cybertronian ages are weird and don’t really align to human developmental rates but I do roughly equate 1 millennia to about a decade in human years.

So Prowl is in his late twenties, Smokescreen is in his thirties and Bluestreak can legally buy alcohol, depending on the country.

Also, Prowl and Smokescreen don’t know about the constant time dilation Bluestreak lives with. It was an experimental feature that got turned on for testing and when Bluestreaks factory got blown up there was nobody around to disable it.

Sometime after they started living together, he asked Smokescreen what Tacnet Dilation actually was, and Smokescreen basically just went “Oh yeah that thing. Yeah just don’t touch it and you’ll be fine.” Not knowing it was already on.

As far as Bluestreak is aware, 25% is “normal speed” because that’s the lowest setting.

-SSTP

[nordickies]

I've been thinking about the Nordics' view on their immortality. How would they feel about it based on their character and experiences?

Björn (Sweden) seems to be the most keen to live like humans. He wants a domestic life, living quietly somewhere in the countryside, willing to guide and raise younger nations, and focusing on his crafts. He just wants to live in peace. Maybe he'd be willing to give up his immortality status if that was possible; if it meant he could live the kind of life he wanted to without constant outside intervention (from people and other immortals). Perhaps he feels little joy from his status, i.e. representing people or taking the responsibility of such duties. It's a task that he can never fulfill; managing to please everybody. He could have also felt alienated from others throughout his life, never really fitting into any period. So would he feel a deep connection with people to begin with? Perhaps he just wants to live on his own accord, somewhat self-sufficiently, not owning anything to anybody.

Meanwhile, I think Magnus (Denmark) would have a more positive experience with his immortality. He loves his friends and family, always looking out for them. Maybe being surrounded by other immortals makes him feel less alone in his world. After all, could humans ever relate to his life and experiences, since they can't even comprehend what he has gone through? So it'd make sense why he'd seek family and companionship from other immortals. And it'd make sense for him to be terrified of death and losing someone important to him - so I don't think he'd wish to be a mortal. In a way, he enjoys his immortality status. He probably loves his people and feels a sense of pride in representing them.

Sigurd (Norway) however, has had horrible experiences with other immortals, so I think he'd pursue some form of meaning and comfort from his job; representing something he values. He wants to focus on things that are important to him, finally fulfilling his own needs and not being restricted by others. And his position or job would definitely strengthen his sense of self and purpose in life. While he feels limited by his responsibilities at times, he also feels seen. He's finally important and valued. Perhaps he's neutral on his immortality, recognizing the positives and negatives at the same time.

Perhaps for Timo (Finland), the question is complicated. He's an alien not only among people but among his peers as well. Does he really fit into either world? Perhaps his thoughts about immortality are tied to his role and place throughout his life; who he actually is and what he actually wants. He's torn by the whole question, not being able to make his peace with it.

And finally, Eiríkur (Iceland) is rather different from everyone because he has always been so isolated. Thus he has always been alone with these big questions. Who is he and what he's supposed to do? Why he specifically is different than the rest? I think he could have a different impression of immortality because no one has ever told him what it's supposed to be like - he has come to these answers based on his own experiences. Perhaps he's closer to people than most other immortals. Instead of his peers being there, the presence of humans was the only constant in his life. He learned to accept that they'd pass on at some point, but there'd always be new people to take their place. He has accepted death as part of their existence and therefore he doesn't run away from it. It has undoubtedly given him a twisted sense of humor but also healthy optimism and hope about things figuring themselves out.

[ouiouimochi]

pairing/s: jin kamurai x reader

genre/s: romance, childhood friends

wc: 1.4k

warning/s: description of anxiety, no beta we die like his mom, absolutely sorry if my cultural representation is wrong, HELLA LONG

note/s: firm believer that jin wasn't as prickly as a child, uhhh I'm sure as hell this was gonna be long as I'm writing it

written for this request, thank you again for requesting :D

.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ੈ❆‧₊˚༺✦༻*ੈ❆‧₊˚.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆.: ⋆*･ﾟ

synopsis: stepping into unfamiliar land as a kid, you meet jin and grow up together

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The sound of classical ballroom music reverberated throughout the wide expanse of the event hall. The attendees of various ages chatter amongst themselves as you quietly observe everything in the corner.

Your back pressed against the wall, hands clasped behind in a nervous attempt to quell the anxiety creeping up on you. Seeking solace for yourself and hoping it'll do the job.

Though the scene around you was familiar– having attended similar events back in France from a young age– the feeling of alienation was still there. You had yet to grow used to the emptiness of being left unseen despite all these years.

It wasn't that people mistreated or ignored you intentionally, it was just no one ever really noticed. Like a shadow– present but never acknowledged. It was the same even in your own home.

Like a ghost– just like thin air.

You look down at the expensive fabric of your dress, accepting that even if you wore the most luxurious of garments, no heads would turn in your direction. It wouldn't be enough to make you visible to anyone.

You eyed the people with envy, wondering how it'd feel to belong— to be seen. You hoped this time was different but deep down knowing it’d be another evening of disappointment. With a quiet sigh, you made your way to the empty balcony.

Now in the company of the moon and stars, and embrace of the gentle night breeze, you felt your nerves ease a little bit. The music, although fainter, still managed to reach from inside the hall– reminding you of the world you had just stepped away from.

You close your eyes to enjoy the lonesome peace you've always sadly resigned to, quietly humming along with the song being played in the background while stretching your upper body to rest your head and folded arms on the railings.

“Hmmm~ hmm~ hmmhmmm~ ♪” Your feet tapped rhythmically on the marble floor.

Your body gently sways to the melody, imagining yourself dancing with your partner amongst the guests. Locking your eyes with him, moving in perfect harmony as if it was just you two.

“Hm~ hmmhm~ ♪” The song drew to a close, everyone graciously bowing to their partners as you smiled up at yours, a bubbling feeling filling up your chest.

With the last note having faded, your eyes fluttered back open, finding yourself calmer and comfortable. You lazily scanned your surroundings to find the same moon, stars, and breeze accompanying you, making you content for now.

As your gaze wandered, it froze as it locked with a beautiful pair of icy blue ones. You blinked, so did the other pair.

“So what are you doing here alone?” The boy’s voice broke the silence, your mind taking a moment to put together what he was saying.

You straightened, having to look around and behind you to check if he was referring to anyone else, but you pointed at yourself to make sure.

The white-haired boy just gave you a funny look before raising an eyebrow.

“Who else would I be talking to?”

You were flustered, understandably so. This boy could see you, like actually see and acknowledge your presence— he was even talking to you and not to forget he was cute! You stammered, words tumbling in a rush of nervousness, accidentally blurting something in French instead before you could catch yourself.

You felt your face flush from embarrassment when you realized, never have you thought your zoning out during language lessons would bite back like this— having believed deep down that nobody would notice you, much less talk to you while you were in Japan.

words spoken in french are in “quoted italics ”

“I assume that you're not yet accustomed to Japan?” He spoke perfectly in French, making you gape at him with how flawlessly he did so.

“I-I— Yes, I never really had anyone to talk to… since I arrived…” You bashfully admitted.

He tilted his head, hair gracefully following his movement.

“Why's that?”

You don't know if it was the desperation for someone to notice you or that he seemed real nice and charming, but you found yourself spilling your woes to him. He listened and absorbed your words, and for the first time in your life, you felt seen and heard. It was this moment that you had long yearned for.

“Something must be wrong with everyone's eyes then, I can see you just fine.” His words sent a fluttering emotion that made you feel like you were floating.

At that point you just knew that this boy would be someone you'd forever be grateful for

“I'm (Y/n) (L/n), nice to meet you!” You curtsied before smiling radiantly up at the taller boy.

He pauses slightly, slightly taken aback by how your smile seemed to make you glow and the area much brighter, before returning a small smile of his own.

“Jin Kamurai, the pleasure is all mine.”

But alas, as all good times must, the event comes to an end.

“I hope we meet soon, (Y/n)”

⋆ੈ❆‧₊˚༺✦༻*ੈ❆‧

And as fate would have it, you two met again. As it turns out, both of your parents were well acquainted with his father— of which he showed small signs of discomfort to, an observation unnoticed by everyone but you. Actually, his discomfort seemed to have eased when his eyes met yours, and yet again you get the same fluttering feeling from being the first person he noticed.

The adults then dismiss you two in order to talk business that you honestly don't care about— grateful you'd be spared the boredom to just watch the adults talk.

When you and Jin got out of the stuffy room with refined poise, your eyes met with his before you both released a synchronized sigh of relief.

“Glad we're out of there, let's go somewhere else” He turned to you offering his hand as you stared at it for a bit before tentatively putting yours on top.

He led you to a drawing room and the first thing you noticed was the grand piano sitting by the big window, the sunlight streaming through the curtains. A sight of something straight out of a painting.

Your eyes sparkled with wonder, turning back to him in a silent question. Wordlessly, Jin led you over to the large instrument, pulling back the bench before seating himself comfortably and patting the empty spot beside him as an invite.

You eagerly sat beside him, your feet dangling from up the high seat. His eyes trailed over your frame and compared it to his that had his feet firmly planted.

He lifted the fallboard and you couldn't help but to trace a finger over the smooth ivory keys, hesitant to press too hard and make a sound.

“Do you play?” He softly asked as he straightened his back and adjusted himself at the piano, you shook your head.

“Can I watch and listen to you play? Any song” You looked at him expectantly, although he was already planning on playing a piece or two for you. One look at you and he already knew what to perform for you.

Jin’s fingers hovered over the keys before producing the first few notes you recognized from Tchaikovsky’s Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. How could you not? It's one of your favorite songs from a ballet you liked. You swayed your body to the tune, your legs swinging and imagining performing the dance itself.

Soon, the song comes to an end and you smile up at the silver haired boy, having enjoyed the experience.

“I wouldn't have thought this would be the first thing you'd play on the piano.” You admit to him that you didn't think he'd play that song first, having pegged him as someone who might’ve favored Handel’s compositions more.

He faces you and raises an eyebrow as if asking whether you just assumed his taste in music or not— but yes, you were right that the piece wouldn't be his first choice either.

“I just thought the song suited you, that's all.”

Yet again warmth crashes over you like a wave, very flattered he thought of you that way.

You were wrong to assume he'd be someone you'd only be grateful to— you were also quickly growing attached to him to the point of developing a crush already.

And you weren't bothered by that at all

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note/s: have to cut it here and make it multi part instead (ahaha it's so long y'all) and I haven't done a revision of the latter parts so hope y'all look forward to it! it'll prolly run for one or two more chapters :>

taglist: @nenesofficial my dear requester, @ryescapades , @justwinginglife , @minasfwoopyponytail + anyone else who wants to be added to any future works!

[pretzel-box]

OU OU OU OHHHH Can you PLEASEEE do a mini fic of Sebastian meeting an expendable who has crazy body mods to make them look more alien?? Like tattooed eyes split tongues teeth with extensions n stuff?? I wonder how he’d feel about someone making themselves look like that when he was forced to look the way he is?? Idk if that makes sense but I had a eureka moment and I LOVEEEE your fics 😩plsplsplsplslpslsl 🙏🏻🙏🏻

words: 1,2k

tags: gn!reader, clear mentions of body mods

Sebastian was rarely scared of anything. At this point, the man had faced horrors beyond human understanding, staring down death itself with nothing more than a resting bitch face. He’d shrugged off wall dwellers that plummeted into his shop from the dark ceilings above, and barely blinked when Pandemonium rushed by, a force of chaos that would unnerve anyone else.

So, imagine his face when he first met you—standing face to face with a human who looked so… inhuman.

When you first entered his shop, he assumed you were another twisted experiment, something that had escaped the grasp of Hadal Blackside’s prison when the lockdown started. The split tongue, the intricate tattoos inked right into the whites of your eyes, the piercings that glittered along the edges of your lips and brows—it all spoke of something otherworldly, something that didn’t belong to the realm of normal human experience.

But then, he noticed the neat little uniform clinging to your body, its fabric still crisp, untouched by the filth and blood that coated most of the facility. The sight of it made a light flicker on in his head. You were human—if the term could still apply—sent down from above, likely a new expandable among this mess, just like countless others before you.

His face scrunched up in irritation and a bit of disgust, his lip curling as he scanned you from head to toe. It wasn’t fear—no, Sebastian was far beyond that—it was the jarring discomfort of trying to process something so out of the ordinary, something that made even him pause for a second.

“What the hell…” he muttered, his voice low, almost as if he was talking to himself. His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the sharp lines of your tattoos, the way the ink made your gaze unsettlingly intense. He could feel the irritation creeping up the back of his neck, the way it always did when something disrupted the order of things in his world. Sebastian spend the last few years hating Urbanshade and himself, cruising his newfound appearance and coming slowly yet painfully to terms with it that he can't be human anymore. So it was even more a hit in the face to see someone who was perfectly human turn themself into what— an alien?

You, with your inked eyes and split tongue, were an affront to the normalcy he clung to in this otherwise chaotic place. Even in the madness of the Blackside, where monsters roamed freely and reality was different, your appearance was a challenge to his sense of what should and shouldn’t be.

Yet, even as he bristled with discomfort, there was a begrudging respect beneath it all. It took guts to modify yourself to that extent, to carry the weight of those changes with such confidence. It was the kind of defiance that reminded him, in some strange way, of himself. A refusal to be anything but exactly what you were, no matter how unsettling it might be to others.

After a moment of tense silence, he let out a breath, forcing his expression to soften, if only slightly. “Alright, you got my attention,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “What do you need?”

You didn’t flinch under his gaze, didn’t hesitate as you stepped closer, as if daring him to say something more. Your eyes, those unsettling orbs of black and white, met his with a calmness that caught him off guard.

“I need supplies,” you said, your voice smooth, unbothered by his scrutiny. To be fair, you were already used to people behaving like that, treating you weirdly for your special behavior. Your split tongue flickered as you spoke, and for a brief second, his mind flashed with curiosity—how it must feel to talk like that, to move in a body so distinctly altered.

“Supplies, huh?” he echoed, almost as if testing the word in his mouth, seeing if it tasted any different when spoken to someone like you. He tilted his head, the initial discomfort giving way to a strange sort of intrigue. “You got anything to trade?”

You nodded, reaching into your bag, and pulling out a handful of items— usb scraps, files, a few salvaged goods that had seen better days but were still usable. He eyed the offerings, the gears in his mind beginning to turn. A potential customer, no matter how off-putting, was still a customer.

“Fine,” he said, the last traces of his initial irritation melting away as he slithered forward to inspect your trade. “But don’t think I’m giving you any special treatment just ‘cause you look like you crawled out of someone’s worst nightmare.”

You smirked, the corners of your lips pulling up to reveal the silver glint of piercings on your tongue. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, and there was a spark of mutual understanding in your tone as you sassed back—an acknowledgment of the strangeness of this place, and of each other.

As he began to rummage through his wares, the discomfort that had initially gripped him faded, replaced by a begrudging respect. You were different, sure, but in this hellhole, maybe different was exactly what was needed.

Sebastian was in the middle of inspecting the tech scraps you had offered, his sharp eyes scanning each piece with practiced efficiency. You stood across from him, arms crossed, waiting for his judgment, your split tongue occasionally flicking out as you shifted your weight.

Just as Sebastian was about to name his price, the vent to the shop creaked open, and another customer cautiously stepped inside. The newcomer was a wiry, nervous-looking man, his eyes darting around the room as if expecting something to jump out at him at any moment. He spotted Sebastian first, relief briefly washing over his features.

But then, his gaze shifted to you.

The moment his eyes locked onto your inked ones, his face paled. His jaw went slack as he took in the tattoos, the piercings, and finally, the slow flicker of your split tongue.

Sebastian noticed the man’s reaction and rolled his eyes, barely suppressing a smirk. “You need something?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at the customer who looked like he’d seen a ghost.

The man opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, his eyes widened even further, and without warning, he bolted toward the nearest vent in the wall.

“Hey, wait!” Sebastian called after him, but it was too late. The man had already pried open the vent cover and was scrambling inside like a terrified rat fleeing a sinking ship.

You watched, bemused, as the man’s legs disappeared into the vent, the cover clattering shut behind him. A few moments of silence passed before you turned back to Sebastian, an amused smirk playing on your lips.

“Well, that was rude,” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

Sebastian finally let out the laugh he’d been holding back, shaking his head in disbelief. “Can’t say I blame him,” he chuckled, glancing at you with a twinkle of amusement in his eye. “You do have a habit of making strong first impressions.”

You shrugged, unbothered by the man’s reaction. “Guess he couldn’t handle a little personality,” you replied, your smirk widening.

Sebastian grinned back, clearly enjoying the moment. “His loss,” he said, returning to your trade with a newfound lightness. “Now, where were we?”

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

behind the curtain

Summary: Sequel to never been (stage) kissed. After shooting wraps, you and Ruby part ways. Eight months later, you see each other again at the premiere screening, and decide to “sneak away” during the after-party. How will you two navigate the paparazzi after they catch you in a compromising position?

Pairing: ruby cruz x actress!reader

Contains: mature language, adult humor, kissing, angst, fluff, hair playing, secret relationship trope, brief mention of an ED, publicity tweets and comments, invasive tabloids, the price of fame

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: This is a sequel to my previous RPF, so the RPF Guidelines still stand. This fic contains a very brief mentioning towards an ED, and should not be triggering (at least I don’t think so). I am not insinuating anything by this mention, it is simply meant to shed light on how invasive and presumptuous Hollywood can be. That being said, I had the most fun EVER writing this! Enjoy! :)

———

Ever since the first “kissing lesson,” you and Ruby had spent every on-set lunch break in her trailer. Nothing ever progressed beyond kissing, but with the way Ruby’s hands entangled themselves in your hair, and how she shivered every time your hand grazed her thigh, kissing was really all you needed.

Your mid-day rendezvous were kept a secret from the rest of the world. None of the cast or crew knew exactly what was happening when the door to Ruby’s trailer closed, but it was clear that something was working. Since the trailer lunches began, your on-set chemistry became palpable. It even got to the point where the director would shout words of praise after “cut!”

Eventually, like with all movies, filming began to wrap up. The last day on set, you and Ruby spent all of your down time wrapped in each other's arms, tears falling at the thought of parting. Everyone on set sympathized with the both of you, except for the makeup artist who kept having to touch up your alien makeup after every fallen tear.

You and Ruby promised to keep in touch, and you did for a little while. But daily FaceTimes eventually became weekly phone calls, which turned into sporadic texts, until silence settled between you, save for occasional likes on social media posts. You missed her terribly, and while your pride and fear of rejection kept you from reaching back out, you couldn’t help but wonder if she was missing you too.

About eight months after shooting wrapped for “Aliens of Atlantis,” you were going over sides for an upcoming audition when you got a call from your agent. Upon answering, she announced that “Aliens of Atlantis” post-production had wrapped, and the film had a scheduled premiere where the cast would be making an appearance.

A blissful daze settled across your face at this news. Your agent kept on talking about the when, the where, and the dress code of the upcoming premiere, but you were only half-listening. Her words mushed together, flying in one ear and out the other as the only thing that mattered to you consumed your mind.

You were going to see Ruby again.

On the morning of the premiere, you woke up with a knot in your stomach. You couldn’t tell if the cause was nerves or excitement, but you chalked it up to probably being a little of both. You tried everything to settle your stomach, from aspirin to deep breaths to simply distracting yourself with other tasks. Despite your attempts, when your driver arrived later in the day to take you to the premiere, the knot was still there and prominent as ever.

By the time you had arrived and were about to get out of the car, the knot had seemingly spread throughout your entire body, making you feel like an absolute disaster. You took out your phone and checked your reflection in the front-facing camera, just to remind yourself that you weren’t. In fact, you looked good. You were wearing a metallic blue floor-length gown as a not-so subtle nod to your alien character from the movie. Pale blue eyeshadow decorated your eyelids, and you left your hair down in loose face-framing curls. You knew the press would go crazy as soon as they saw you, and that thought alone gave you enough of a confidence boost to calm down a bit.

When the car pulled up to the red carpet, you took a deep breath and stepped out, immediately being bombarded with cameras flashing in your face. You blinked, overwhelmed at the bright lights, and quickly attempted to paste on a smile and act like this wasn’t your first red carpet event.

You stumbled down the red carpet and looked around for Ruby, but the constant camera flashes and bright lights made it difficult to see much. Every now and then you would stop to strike a pose and flash a pretty smile in some random direction, or answer one of the million questions being thrown at you.

“Who are you wearing?”

A fucking blue dress. “Valdrin Sahiti!”

“How do you feel about your first red carpet event?”

Overwhelmed. “So excited!”

“What are you most looking forward to tonight?”

Seeing Ruby again. “Everyone finally getting to see all the hard work from the cast and crew!”

After what felt like an eternity of paparazzi and bullshit answers to trivial questions, the end of the red carpet was finally approaching. You felt yourself let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It wasn’t easy, but you managed to make it down your first red carpet without making a complete fool of yourself.

Eventually, the cameras seemed to dissipate, focusing on the next pretty young thing that had just arrived. You blinked, trying to restore your vision infringed upon by the blinding lights. Once you could see in front of you again, you looked up, and a gulp forced itself down your throat at what might have been the prettiest sight you’d ever seen.

There, standing at the end of the red carpet, was Ruby Cruz, radiant amidst the flashing lights.

Her gown was long and form-fitting, sporting bright streaks of color and a slit up one of her legs. Dark brown curls hovered above her shoulders and cascaded down the back of her neck, while glittery red eyeshadow made her blue eyes pop. She looked so natural, posing and smiling for the cameras, that you couldn’t help but feel a bit envious of her.

Upon seeing you, Ruby’s eyes brightened, and a goofy grin spread across her face. She walked towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist and instantly making the cameras go wild. Your cheeks flushed into a bright pink tint. You missed her touch, and having her arm wrapped around you like that almost felt like deja vu.

While the both of you posed for the flashing cameras, Ruby leaned down to your ear and whispered one single sentence, the answer to a question you didn’t need to ask.

“I missed you.”

Unsurprisingly, the movie premiere turned out to be a massive success. The audience was extremely receptive to the storyline, cheering and gasping at all the right moments. Critics even approached you after the screening to rave about your performance and promise a glowing review.

The after-party was held at a nearby banquet hall, decorated to look like the underwater city of Atlantis. Filk music blasted through speakers while an open bar served space-themed cocktails.

You were busy making your rounds, establishing connections with other attendees while sipping a ‘cosmonaut’ from the open bar. While posing for a photo with a fan, you couldn’t help but realize you hadn’t seen Ruby in a bit. You craned your neck to look for her, but she was nowhere to be found. You shrugged it off, thinking it’s just a big venue and you’d probably run into her at some point during the night.

After several photos, impromptu interviews, and business cards you had nowhere to put, you were exhausted. You tried to make yourself as invisible as possible, leaning against a curtain by the back wall and downing the last sip of your cocktail.

While scanning the room, you noticed some of your castmates appeared slightly tipsy. You felt bad for them, knowing their press interviews would come off as less than professional, but there was a small part of you that wished you had more to drink throughout the night. The party was fun, sure, but took a lot out of you, and alcohol was sure to make it more tolerable.

Suddenly, while you were immersed in watching a crew member profusely apologize to an intern she had drunkenly stumbled into, you felt a disembodied hand appear out of nowhere and wrap around your arm. The hand pulled you behind the curtain you were leaning against, causing you to gasp and drop your empty cup.

You whipped around to see who grabbed you, preparing to throw a punch or scream for help if you had to. Instead, your eyes softened and you lowered your fist upon seeing Ruby, standing there staring at you with a devilish smirk.

“Hi pretty girl.” She cooed, taking a step towards you.

“Ruby…” you half-whispered in shock, eyes traveling up and down her body. “What are you doing?”

“I missed you,” she rested her hands on your hips and bit her lip, letting an ounce of vulnerability shine through her otherwise confident exterior. “I missed this. I feel like we barely got to see each other all night.”

“Me too,” you responded, internally melting at the feeling of her warm hands on your torso.

You wrapped your arms around her neck and leaned close to her before a sense of paranoia made you backtrack. “Ruby, it’s a big party, what if someone sees us?”

Ruby simply shrugged, completely unbothered. “Like you said, it’s a big party. Our castmates are drunk, the press is too focused on capturing their embarrassing moments.”

Her words seemed to reassure you, and you pulled her close to you again, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. “I’m glad you pulled me away.”

Ruby crashed her lips against yours, forcing a soft moan to escape your throat. She pulled back, looking deep into your eyes and holding your face in her hands.

“Careful now. We don’t want anyone hearing us.”

You nodded, non-verbally promising to keep quiet before Ruby brought her lips to yours again. Both of you sighed into the kiss, eight months of absence making itself prominent with passion. She tasted like sweet nostalgia with a hint of coconut rum, probably leftover from a drink she had earlier.

Ruby pressed herself against you, and you grabbed at the back of her neck, desperate to be as close to her as possible. She kept her hands planted at your waist, thumbing over the metallic fabric of your gown. Each time her fingertips pressed into your sides sent electrifying shocks through your body, making your knees stutter and causing you to lean more into Ruby for balance.

You brought your hands up to play with one of her curls, prompting a gentle sigh to travel from her mouth into yours. A smirk appeared on your lips, realizing your beloved brunette enjoyed having her hair played with.

Just when you were about to fully take advantage of this newfound information, a sudden crash engulfed your ears, followed by a blinding light and a collective gasp. You and Ruby pulled away from each other, turning your heads to check out the commotion.

One of the interns had drunkenly stumbled into the curtain and pulled it down with him as he fell, leaving you and Ruby entangled in each other and completely exposed to the rest of the party.

All hell broke loose. Interviewers screamed questions from across the room while paparazzi cameras flashed in your face. Those without cameras pulled out their phones and filmed the both of you, desperate for their fifteen minutes of fame.

Anxiety overtook your body as you felt a lump rise to your throat and your heart sink to your feet. You turned to look at Ruby, eyes full of fear, but she wasn’t looking at you. She was looking straight at the flashing cameras, with an expression that made your blood run cold.

You had never seen her bright blue eyes filled with so much anger.

The pit in your stomach grew as you scrolled through the tabloid headlines and Twitter articles featuring your and Ruby’s “stunt” from the other night. This was bad. So bad, that both of your agents had gotten together to hire a public relations manager just for the situation.

Two days after the movie premiere, an emergency meeting was called. Five of you were called to the manager’s office, with both of your agents sitting on either side of him, and you and Ruby placed across from the three of them.

The manager, named Rick, held out his hand and you gave him his phone back, sick of scrolling through the headlines anyway. As far as you could tell, Rick didn’t seem like a bad guy, but it was clear Ruby didn’t feel the same. She hadn’t said a word throughout the entire meeting, instead keeping her arms crossed in front of her chest and pointing a cold glare towards the man in front of her.

She didn’t trust him, and everyone in the room knew it.

Rick gave the both of you a sheepish grin. “As you both can probably see, you’re kind of the flavor of the week right now.”

Ruby’s agent nodded in agreement. “I have a friend in New York, and she heard a rumor about an SNL sketch being written about the whole thing.”

Your agent sighed, clearly having heard the rumor herself. Ruby simply scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Is it really that big of a deal?” You piped up.

All eyes turned to look at you, making you shrink in your seat. “I mean, can’t we just wait for it to blow over? All we did was kiss at an after party.”

“It’s not like we were fucking, Rick.” Ruby growled through her teeth, causing a blush to appear on your cheeks.

Rick cleared his throat, uncomfortable with Ruby’s candidness. ���Well it’s not really that simple…”

“No one knows what you are.” Your agent interrupted. “All the public knows is you were caught going at it like teenagers in a basement, and now the media is going to be on top of everything you do until they figure it out.”

Ruby’s agent nodded. “Before this, we wanted you both to appear single to the public. You’re both very attractive girls. People want you, and we want them to think they can have you.”

“But that’s not really an option now.” Rick pointed out. “Fortunately, both of you have pretty reputable status in Hollywood. People see two of their favorite actresses together, feedback is bound to be mostly positive.”

He opened up a notepad in front of him and started scribbling down something you couldn’t quite make out.

“I’m thinking, we take this relationship and go completely public. Social media posts, dates open to the paparazzi, everything. That way, the media won’t have to do any guess work and this whole thing will blow over sooner.”

Suddenly, Ruby stood up from her seat and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Ruby!” Her agent called after her.

She turned to flash an apologetic smile towards all the shocked faces staring back at her. “I’m sorry. She’s not usually like this. I’ll talk to her.”

She ran out of the room after Ruby, leaving Rick and your agent to go over the details of the plan. Their voices faded into the background as millions of thoughts swam through your mind. You had a bad feeling about this ‘public relationship’ idea.

How were you supposed to go public with your relationship, when you weren’t even sure if there was a relationship to go public with?

You adjusted your oversized hat and sunglasses while staring up at the cafe sign that read “Grind n’ Dine,” shuddering at the slightly suggestive name.

One week after the meeting with Rick, he worked with your agents to schedule a public date for you and Ruby, tipping off the press to make sure there was media coverage. Grind n’ Dine, a local business, had apparently paid Rick a large sum of money to schedule your date here in the hopes that the publicity would be good for business.

Taking a deep breath, you walked in through the restaurant doors and looked around. Several members of the press were already present, wearing cameras around their necks and sipping coffee at various tables. You breathed out a sigh of relief that they didn’t recognize you yet, thankful for your agent who suggested arriving in disguise.

In the very back of the restaurant, tucked into a booth, you spotted Ruby hiding behind a menu. She had her body and hair buried under a large black hoodie, and masked her face with sunglasses similar to yours. You made your way over to her, trying to act natural, and making sure to avoid press members as much as possible in case they recognize you before you’re ready.

You slid into the seat across from her and cleared your throat to alert her of your presence. She put down her menu and laid it flat, before tilting her sunglasses down to meet your eyes.

Her blue eyes, once lively and bright, were now bloodshot and emotionless. Dark circles hung like bags underneath them, as if she hadn’t slept in days. You felt a sharp pang in your chest. Ruby had never looked at you this way before, and you wished more than anything that she would stop.

“Ready for this?” She asked, her voice monotone and lifeless.

You gulped, nodding defeatedly. “As I’ll ever be.”

Ruby removed her sunglasses and pulled down her hood, shaking out her wild brunette locks. You followed suit, taking off your hat and slipping your sunglasses into your purse.

Almost immediately, members of the press recognized the both of you, and practically trampled the poor servers and other diners to get to your booth. Cameras were suddenly shoved in your face, followed by microphones and what felt like hundreds of pointless and rather invading questions.

“Is this a date? How would you define your relationship?”

“If you had to describe your sex life using only three words, what would they be?”

“Ruby! Do you think every liberal democrat should take home a migrant to show their support for the proposed open border policy?”

The two of you mumbled terse responses to some of the questions, and completely ignored others. After several minutes of verbal torture, a perky blonde waitress fought her way through the press and stopped at the end of your table. She sported a wide politician's smile not directed at the two of you, instead flashed to the surrounding cameras in search of fifteen minutes of fame.

“Hi guys,” she started, her voice unnaturally high pitched. “My name is Bethany, what can I get started for you today?”

“I’ll have a quinoa salad and cranberry juice, please.” You answered, handing Bethany your menu.

The press murmured imperceptible comments regarding your order, some even scribbling notes on napkins. “Quinoa… salad…”

“Just a coffee’s fine.” Ruby mumbled, order being followed by press comments as well.

As soon as Bethany walked away, the paparazzi shoved the cameras back in your face and bombarded you and Ruby with questions once more.

“Did you order cranberry juice because you like cranberry juice or because you have a UTI? How did you get this UTI?”

“I noticed you were the only one who ordered food. Could it be because you’re eating for two?”

“Speaking of, why didn’t you order food, Ruby? Are you battling some kind of eating disorder? Would you like to comment on it?”

“Enough!” Ruby exclaimed, perhaps louder than she should have.

Immediately, the press was silent, with only the sound of sporadic camera clicks being heard. Ruby turned to look at you, tears starting to well in her tired eyes.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this…” she whispered, getting up and running out of the restaurant.

“Ruby! Wait, please!” You stood up and ran after her, leaving the paparazzi in the dust behind you.

You found Ruby leaning against a building across the cafe. She had her head resting against the cool brick, and her face pointed to the sky while she blinked back tears threatening to fall.

A lump formed in your throat as you started to approach her. You couldn’t stand to see her like this. She looked so… miserable.

“Ruby…” you muttered softly, reaching out your hand.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the concrete, refusing to look you in the eye. “I just wasn’t hungry! It’s barely ten in the fucking morning!”

You sighed. “Ruby, we both know that’s not what this is about. What’s going on?”

She sniffed, and focused her gaze on something behind you. “Can we… go somewhere else?”

Turning to see what Ruby was looking at, you noticed a teenage girl filming the two of you on her phone. You rolled your eyes, completely exasperated at this point.

“Let’s go.” You muttered, grabbing her hand to pull her away.

It didn’t take long to find a nearby alleyway, deserted except for an empty dumpster. You dragged Ruby into the back, letting go of her hand once the coast was clear.

“Talk.”

The pale brunette pushed her bangs out of her face, blinking a couple times while gathering her thoughts.

“I just… this is why my Instagram is private. This is why I’ve never explicitly labeled my sexuality. This is why I rarely talk about my personal life! I don’t want the media invading my space! I don’t want random strangers knowing intimate details about my life! It’s fucking freaky!”

You nodded, understanding her perspective, especially as you’d been recently dealing with the wrath of the paparazzi as well. She continued.

“I mean fuck! I can’t even order a damn coffee without some tabloid claiming I have a fucking eating disorder!”

Her breathing seemed to be evening out the more she spoke. She let out a shuddering breath and crossed her arms, staring at the gravel beneath her feet.

“I just… I just wanted to kiss you at an after-party. I missed you. And now everyone’s forcing us to be in this relationship and make it public but…”

“But no one asked us if we were even together,” you finished.

She nodded. “Exactly! We never even had a conversation just between us. Everyone just assumed.”

You pulled the brunette girl into your arms, wrapping them around her torso. She buried her face in the crook of your neck as you stroked her soft locks.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “If I had known that’s how you felt…”

“No.” She interrupted. “It wasn’t you. You didn’t do anything, I… listen…”

She pulled away, and you felt a pit form in your stomach. You waited for her to tell you that she didn’t want to see you again, that it was too hard, that it meant nothing.

You held your breath as she took your face in her hands, her blue eyes piercing into yours.

“I like you.”

“You… huh?” Shock painted your features as Ruby said the last thing you were expecting to hear.

“I like you.” She repeated, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned. “I meant it when I said I missed you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire eight months we didn’t talk. I should have reached out more, I don’t know why I didn’t. I guess I was scared? I don’t know…”

She was babbling, and you didn’t think she could get any cuter. You took her hands off your face and held them in yours, flashing her an encouraging smile.

“I like you too,” you replied giddily. “More than you know.”

Ruby chuckled, a faint blush tinting her cheeks. She stared down at the gravel again, chewing on her lip before speaking.

“I like you… I really do, but if we’re gonna start this… something, I’d want to take it slow and be completely private. No socials, no media, at least for now. Would… that be something you’re okay with?”

You squeezed her hands, flashing her a goofy grin. “I would… love that, actually.”

As you stared at your former celebrity crush, turned co-star, turned friend, turned… something, a wave of courage suddenly washed over you. Letting go of her hands, you seized her face and brought your lips to hers, tentatively, testing the waters. She gasped, but soon kissed back, sighing as she wrapped her arms around your neck and leaned into your body.

You moved your hand towards the back of her neck, then slowly inched upwards until your fingers were entangled in her hair. An almost inaudible moan escaped her lips and vibrated against yours as you played with her soft tresses. You smirked into the kiss, remembering exactly how much she liked having her hair played with before getting caught at the after-party.

Finally, after what could have been an eternity, you pulled away from each other. The two of you gasped for breath, both smiling like giddy children at the other.

“So… what now?” You asked breathlessly.

Ruby hummed to herself, seemingly in thought. “We could… go on a real date? Just you and me? No paparazzi. There’s this great little hole-in-the-wall place I like to go to when I don’t want to get recognized.”

You tilted your head, shooting her a lopsided smile. “That sounds perfect, actually.”

Before leaving the alleyway, Ruby put her sunglasses back on and pulled her hood over her head again, while you dug your sunglasses out of your purse and readjusted your hat. The two of you were disguised, hidden from the world, but happy to be able to pursue each other away from public opinion.

Ruby reached out her hand, her blue eyes somehow still managing to shine behind her sunglasses. “Ready for this?”

You smiled back at her, taking her hand and intertwining her fingers with yours. “As I’ll ever be.”

[nanakah]

hello hello, I took the alien stage pill. howdy fellow sufferers

Honestly, my first reaction to basically everything was "awww, they come in sets and are all without exception horribly doomed no matter their specs (loops cool music and vids)"

I'd seen some of VIVINOS' team works without realizing it was the same artist (my favorites being Beloved and Otomeroid) so it was rather shocking to learn of a "series" with a fandom as active/relatively large as Alien Stage without ever actually stumbling upon it before...

Anyways. I like the concept, and Hyuna+Luka in particular, a whole lot. In spite of all the jokes about only yuri and yaoi losing, my spider sense says they'll get their turn of crashing horribly soon and I wanna stay here to witness it burn beautifully, of course.

TL;DR OMG HYULUKA IS SO DELICIOUS

general yapping about all alien stage duos under the cut and some Hyuna/Luka considerations and theories

disclaimer: long, chaotic post ahead - i wrote most of it during revenge bedtime procrastination so I'm kinda just rambling/discussing my general impressions and vibes here instead of formatting it nicely or properly illustrating my points. good luck if you choose to stick around and make yourself comfy

alien stage impressions under read more - also SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

funny thing - I got into alien stage completely by chance after checking out some related vids to my Love and Deepspace twitter spree and avoiding my responsibilities. Ivan's Black Sorrow made a very strong impression and I loved his eyes, so I kept going deeper down the rabbit role and felt fascinated by the web of dynamics between the characters each time I took in a little more of the plot.

(His eyes are so cool and expressive.....I was already loving everything prior and was excited to continue, but Ivan was definitely the one to sell me on the concept more strongly and eat up the rest.)

It was interesting seeing "love" portrayed under such dire conditions and I kept wondering how come the aliens are so stupid they chose a 1vs1 PVP combat format with their beloved pets instead of the optimal formation of idol units and at least duos versus each other to utilize their feelings of love. Why would they do that?

That first innocent musing made me realize how clever the team behind ALNST is. The whole thing seems to be operating as a metaphor/commentary about how predatory the real idol industry is (the concept of anakt garden really sounds like the average idol trainee camp experience and the bonds they form with their group mates) and how heartless guardian (parental) figures can be in a society that is heavily utilitarian and barely gives agency to either their own children or sentient beings like animals that we keep as pets.

So in that world, the sacrifices of being an idol are literal and humans themselves are "pets" - with all the implications that come with "being dependent on a species that does not properly comprehend them". At times, the way they refer to the fandom of each character even seems to be tongue in cheek as to how "we" too are watching the story for entertainment and making fanbases for each character and reacting like some of the in-universe alien fans.

Therefore, it's no brainer that the answer to my initial question was: aliens/Segyein don't understand how to utilize human bonds and emotions to their maximum efficiency in the first place. They know interaction between humans seems to be important and produces more beautiful songs. However, they probably experience those feelings differently and most of them are likely unable to truly empathize with human pain, ethics or feelings. (And believe me, even some people have a hard time believing other species benifit from socialization, so aliens being that way is understandable). Perhaps the awful acts of the Segyein mutilating their pet human is no different from pulling a butterfly's wings to a human or injecting colored fluid into a flower. The glimpses of their buildings and tv show that they have the same sort of "do they have rights?" feelings and similar moral conflicts to what we have in the real world about species we don't understand fully.

I think it's really challenging to analyze a work attempting to guess future developments when you don't know the creator too well. In spite of looping OTOMEROID I wouldn't say I know VIVINOS and her team deeply as an admirer. But from the overall tone of the videos in her channel, I could pick up on a fascination with "extremes" of emotion and exploring the hypocrisy of society. Human/animal experimentation and materialism/religion/consumerism are topics that come up often. Love is also hardly ever portrayed as a simple or benevolent feeling alone - there's unrequited love, obsession, insanity, many facets of that feeling on the channel. Some works are more straightforward and focus on the visual presentation, others seem to have a deeper story behind it.

The technical quality of the Alien Stage MVs is extremely impressive, I had a blast looking at the patreon storyboards and feeling like "wow, a person actually made this". It seriously got me inspired to feel like drawing more to get out of my own artblock and to pick up on old OCs to show them some love. In the era of AI, this is a joy to get to feel. It all definitely feels like a well-put together labor of love. I'm super weak to things brimming with passion like this, it's contagious!!!!

Now that I've tried my best to make an eloquent opening and act like I'm not at all just a fangirl foaming at the mouth with this intense concept (I keep crying that I wanna see either Aka or Ohkawa try their hand at a death game scenario) and at the sight of a tragic toxic duo with a backstory of a deeply rooted mutual obsession/love and fall out (wiping drool out of the corner of my mouth as we speak), let's talk a little more about the story. In order to make sense out of my ramblings and projections, let me explain my thoughts on the other duos besides my bias first.

Mizi and Sua set the tone to their universe as well as serve as an explanation as to why "idols" work well to represent their conflict and struggle - I'm fresh out of Oshi no Ko here, so this feels equal parts like a comfort zone and everything but comfortable and hellish to go over again. But, to put it briefly, the adoration of someone as an entertainer that you want to support also overlaps with the word reserved for adoring "an image or representation of a god used as an object of worship" - idol.

Humans, stripped of their power and autonomy after arrogantly believing they were superior to everyone else and were the only beings in the vast universe, have been subjugated by other species. Because of the bleak, unforgiving circumstances they were faced with afterwards, the surviving ones were turned into luxury pets and stripped of their freedom. Free will made them children of God before, so people have forgotten all about the "God" who couldn't answer their prayers/save them. But, as Mizi says, the belief in God is innate to human nature. You are more likely live in this world successfuly if you have someone to look up to or a reason to survive.

When God seems so far away and so cruel...what they can do is look to each other as their "Gods". Because a belief in God is ultimately, a cry for salvation and acceptance...."The Bible makes it clear that “God is love” (1 John 4:8). He isn't just loving, but he is the very definition of love."Therefore, all characters are, in some way, looking for salvation and being constantly tested and brutally being forced to show off their humanity through the lens of how love affects them - and not at the privacy of their inner thoughts or anything. All of that in order to portray different aspects of "love", adoration and what it means to be human. To have a belief on the unseen - "what is essential is invisible to the eye".

IT'S ALIEN AMERICAN IDOL MEETS DANGANRONPA. WHOO.

(gOD I wish we could have gotten Luka vs Sua or vs Ivan in some way. That feels like it would be extremely close and entertaining to see. Am I losing my humanity? Why is my keyboard slimy? Am I becoming a Segyein ....?)

Of course, because I fell for all those deliciously doomed themes like the good CLAMP/Akasaka foolish nerd I am, I bought patreon access day one. Although some setting details were unexpected, I was pretty satisfied with my overall initial grasp on most of the characters. If you found me through the tags and didn't already follow me, my disclaimer here so you get to know me is that I easily gravitate to polarizing characters or doomed ships like a curse. There are also certain Themes that follow me like a plague and I could see some of my favorite characters' shadows on the doomed kids I liked right away. Like an itch to spot something more to what is being shown.

Therefore right away, Luka and Hyuna caught my eye big time. (literally, when I watched sweet dream I kept pausing and going - whOA WHO IS THE COOL GIRL WITH THE CIG. Wait wait wait show me more of the boy that looks dead inside overstimulated by the flashing lights!)

I don't really have any pretension to be quoted on anything here or say things verbatim (Patreon says it's fine to produce derivative content based on what's there, but as expected, it's enforced not to directly share it so I can't really go argument-evidence here by presenting it) and have only seen pictures of the artbook secondhand by a friend, so I'll have my fun here making commentary loosely based on extra content and sporadically showing off pretty MV captures.

Anyway.

We're introduced to this universe through the jarring cruelty of ROUND 1, contrasting a harmonic, beautiful, lullaby-like melody with a harsh outcome. Like Mizi, unless we got spoiled beforehand, we don't really know anything about what's about to horrifically transpire. And though she got education, it feels like the teachings about what death or the Alien Stage would be like were horribly sugar coated or distorted to her, as incentive to give their best performances - like sacrificing themselves was a good thing. The extra materials back this up with Mizi's first interview about "My Clematis" - it's like they're told they're simply going back to their "origins" entity (The Grand Ankt) and it's a pretty and peaceful thing. We're shown how bad humans have it in their society and simultaneously get a montage of a cute, healthy, heartwarming relationship between the two girls and a deep "pure" love, as well as feel the weight of Sua's sacrifice and how badly it hurts Mizi. You're told that Sua is her God, her Universe in a Godless world - only to have her ripped away and "God" basically slaughtered for cheap entertainment. Some of the extra materials put it as a certain "mutual love" between Sua and Mizi.

It's interesting how we're shown a stage and don't know what to expect at first - since the girls seem "calm" and happy to express their love, but there's an increasing sense of dread until the finality of Sua's death hits and the pretty, shining girl we see in the flashbacks becomes an empty husk. The MVs seem all to be roughly designed around creating a surprise at the end or recontextualizing something we have seen previously.

I won't discuss Till and Ivan at length at this time, because that would get too long and demands it's own post (I sure as hell rewatched Unknown, Black Sorrow and Cure many times though), but the key part for me here is - they similarly express "love", but through another facet - obsession of a one-sided love and the desire to reach salvation or a reason to endure the world because of that, too. To the point of choosing the chance of love over salvation, expressed by Till letting go of Ivan's hand when they had a chance to escape (not wanting to leave Mizi behind most likely) and Ivan's kiss and decision to strangle Till to give his own life in exchange for his/finally getting to express his "shallow emotions" he perceives as something that won't deeply scar Till (but it does, and it mattered, far more than he could ever have known). It's interesting that although Mizi calls Sua a God, they develop something closer to a balanced, mutual relationship, as much as their lack of understanding of "human relationship" allows - they connect deeply. Ivan, according to the comics, sees himself in Sua, but it's deeply frustrating how he couldn't build the same sort of connection with Till and felt like he could only maintain a bond through violence.

Mizi seems to be the only human who was raised in a "stable home" (her alien seems to actually love her closest to a mother), but that's not enough to protect her from pain - after all, the alien's reasoning was that if Mizi likes singing, she should join. Yolo! Your human baby's life is so short! Sounds like outdoor cat owners to me. Ugh. All other pet humans are going through some flavor of parental abuse, and it all reflects in how they express their emotions and what sort of decisions they tend to take.

Till, in contrast to all that, more closely resembles the definition of looking at Mizi like an oshi/idol as a comfort to run from the pains of his life - he always looks hurt or abused, but Mizi is like medicine that even watching from far away makes him feel "saved" due to nurturing that "first love" that is heavily idealized. It's interesting how his character that is first introduced as somewhat violent or wild because of the smashing guitar and "addict"/drug imagery turns out to be one of the most sensitive.

The cloaked figure of Mizi in Blink Gone seems to resemble a saint or Mary (mother) holding a child in her lap as he takes his last breaths. She rushed into the crowd in a desperate attempt to save or at least comfort him in his predicament. Till's final position even resembles that of being crucified.

All that, however, makes Till unable to see Ivan properly - who is constantly around him and yearning for his attention, protecting and loving him in desperate ways that he doesn't realize until the very last minute. He is also seemingly detaching himself from the "real" world as a very "pure" child (shown in the way he loves with full devotion and his artistic inclinations), which of course, makes Ivan painful to face - who is a grounding entity and a reminder of the real world. The one who touches his wounds, who is "there" and not unreachable like a flower at the top of a mountain. That love between Ivan and Till got expressed in a way that was painful to both, but a very human act of a clashing selfish and selfless-ness.

None of them are built for this. They're trying to survive.

So far, what I've got is...Mizi and Sua set a standard of what is closest to a mutual love that was growing together in a relatively equal and healthy way. Ivan and Till were reworked to avoid overlap with them and are chosen to portray the sense of an immature, obsessive love and clashing emotions. It's interesting to me how much the creators stress the "one-sided" and controlling nature of Ivan for behind the scenes, and I feel like this does not mean that Till couldn't possibly return his feelings - after all, the Actor AU does show great chemistry between them. It's more like, within their living conditions and because of the emotional immaturity of both of them, they literally could not see eye to eye - Till looking at an idol out of reach (Mizi), and Ivan choosing to seek out his attention through violent means that confused Till, thus he was unable to respond to the intensity of what he felt and grow into it.

NOW. TO THE MAIN COURSE THAT IS ROTTING MY BRAIN: HYULUKA.

If we've got all those bases covered so far...where does that leave Hyuna and Luka?

(This is the most Mello/Near-like I've ever seen another ship pull off. My inner 13 yo is screaming. They're both incredibly gorgeous. How is a hetero couple simultaneously so BL and yuri-like in DRAMA AND IMAGERY? CLAMP would be proud...)

You see, there's no official answer about the true nature of their bond yet.

But I have a lot of speculations. It clearly looks like a rotten, strangled-by-the-red-string-of-fate sort bond that is just up my alley. THE MOST FUN IS GETTING TO BABBLE BEFORE GETTING AN ASSERTIVE ANSWER. I'm all for making a fool of myself, so let's get down to it.

To put it simply - I believe Hyuna and Luka's role is expressing the extremes of the setting itself and what "to love" means within it, with a turn for the worse and the tragedy of "not understanding" even if there is love.

How do you conquer an oppressive world in which all odds are against you? Would you overtake it through rebellion or would you strike at it from within?

In a world in which God's teachings have become lost to time and difficult to believe, does love strengthen or weaken you? If it causes pain and destruction, can it still be called love?

I think Hyuna and Luka are standing at opposite sides of those beliefs, and cannot understand each other's mindset.

Seems simple enough to write Luka as a mere villain final boss since he seems to be enjoying himself at the evil death game and Hyuna as the nice rebel who wants to save everyone, right? But it's confirmed Hyuna wasn't really trying to rescue more people like she had an opportune moment to do for Mizi.

The artbook also says something incredibly interesting about what the "Luka Syndrome" mentioned in one of the MVs really means - Luka's prestige as a performer is raising the prestige of pet humans. He also believes "Hyuna would be safe with him" - Why is that?

I think they might actually have similar goals and a similar stubborness in which they believe themselves to be the correct one and the other to be pitiful and foolish. Hyuna is trying to overthrow a system that is well-established and has far more power or influence than them, therefore she needs to resort to drastic measures and flashy means to assert dominance over the alien society.

Luka on the other hand, feels like he is using the system against it and exercising his own humanity while at it. Rather than tackling the incredibly daunting task of being a rebel with guns blazing, Luka became a master of the stage in a way that makes humans gain influence and thus become more valuable.Even if I try to think of it as "he's just trying to survive", that doesn't feel enough - because whenever he is not on stage, Luka looks dead inside already.

Especially in the arts he looks like a younger child or teenager, except for the ones after he seems more consistently approached by Hyuna. It's hard for me to think what moves him is a survival instinct. He is also portrayed like the typical "golden kid" syndrome victim - someone so systematically beaten to satisfy their narcissist guardian figure and submitted to so much pain that they eventually absorb part of that mindset as a way to have agency and autonomy over themselves. It gives the illusion of being successful and thus that the abuse was "effective", but it's like a curse that is difficult to break from.

I think both of them are older for a thematic reason. It feels like it could represent what it feels like, as adults, to no longer be able to hold onto naive or idealistic things about the world or society due to ignorance and having to choose a path to express your ideas and reach your goals through your "work".

Hyuna is guns blazing and "adult pleasures" - singing to an underground stage, trying to scrub off the wounds of her past with alcohol, and it's interesting that her guardian alien is portrayed like an "absent" parent figure - they have an interest in humans, but doesn't care about watching Hyuna when she first was eligible for Alien Stage. I wonder if they even are the one looking for her at all - seems to me it's more of an alien police thing because of her "crimes". Under that seemingly "thick" skin though, it seems clear that Hyuna is deeply affected by Luka still, and the loss of her brother. She deals with her wounds by not really dealing with them at all and guess what - it's a weak point. Her song is uplifting and refreshing, but she clearly demonstrates that closing your eyes to trauma and purely moving forward doesn't make them go away. In that sense, Mizi is a way she is trying to "mentor" someone navigate through loss.

I love outcasts and mildly autistic-coded characters, so I gravitated to Sua, Ivan and Luka right away.

(Extroverted cutie and the doomest doomer of the bunch. As a side note, their character design alone and contrast is genius and gorgeous. I'd expect 90% of the time for Luka to be the designated BL character and hardly do I ever see his archetype paired with the sort of sharp, striking beauty that Hyuna has so I definitely got giddy with them right away. She reminds me a lot of Michiko Malando and Luka reminds me of Near, two characters I love a whole lot and funnily enough have the same mbti types the artbook describes them as - ESTP and INTJ. Ankt garden Luka looks somewhat closer to the AU versions of Luka, so gotta love both his origins and his twisted post-alnst/hyuun woo self)

I believe Hyuna bundles Luka with that trauma of grief and loss, and it's still unclear what their roles are in it and after the fact. While singing all in verses "We only get one life, so I'm living mine for me/'Cause I'm the one from your wildest dreams", Luka's face flashes through Hyuna's mind before even her brothers, like it's something that's always on the back of it and barely suppressed.

See...since VIVINOS loves the "more than meets the eye"/twist concept, something I'm expecting is for Hyuna's feelings not to be as black and white as blaming Luka and actually. It obviously was dysfunctional and isn't that....delicious???

I feel like a one-sided love or obsession wouldn't make sense to repeat as themes, and because of the heavy trauma associated in the backstory, it's not like a "healthy mutual love". To bridge the themes of MiziSua and IvanTill, I think Hyuna and Luka are being told in a way to express love as something that can also destroy instead of save, and their clashing ideologies come from a place of wanting to think "-I'M- right and want to be your god", instead of ever having been able to understand each other properly.

They have a similarly "corrupt" love that has a lot of guilt and regret built into it. Even with something awful as what happened to her brother, it's curious that Hyuna's mind first thinks of Luka in an "enamored" light - the scene looks pretty tender - but that's also attached to the weight of Hyun Woo's death.

I think It's likely that the twist is Hyuna having been the one who hurt her brother, even, considering the dynamic in these comics:

Luka and Hyun Woo compete for Hyuna's attention, and it's to be expected that none of them understand the boundaries and definitions of love too well. Hyuna and Hyun Woo seem to be naive and relatively raised in a decent way, submitted to superiority tests like the rest, but not directly abused. They seem to express their love for each other in a cheerful, healthy way, Hyuna probably because of her closeness to her brother (which is unusual for other pet humans to be able to do) is extremely physical in how she shows affection. She doesn't really reprimand Luka, and that creates an unhealthy dynamic in which Luka plays the victim - in spite of starting things - to enjoy Hyuna's attention. There is a cute comic that looks silly, but encapsulates it all:

Luka is a little shit that wants to be pampered. He knows he is physically weaker - if you come across a rabbit being hurt by a wolf, you wouldn't suspect the rabbit provoked it. So Hyuna constantly seems to take Luka's side regardless of what happened, wanting to have that protector role.

Luka on the other hand, has no reference of what it's like to be "loved". He is systematically abused and treated like an object - therefore, he perceives relationships in terms of "ownership". And I don't think Hyuna truly understands just what she is enabling when she encourages Luka to act the way he does or thinks his neediness is "cute".

Honestly, I think there's strong sexual abuse imagery in Luka's art and the presentation of his stage image as someone taking charge of their objectification. His clothing for stage always shows off his body one way or another and both Hyuna and him have this sensual imagery and approach to others, as if "reclaiming one's own body". The contrast of Luka's blank expression and the red collar indicating a mental breakdown in that artwork above featuring Heperu's shadow approaching him is truly chilling.

That boy has no reference of what a familial bond or love is like. And both his introspective nature and abuse seem to make it even worse for him to connect with his peers- in the artbook his only relationships listed are Hyuna and Mizi, in very negative ways. He is also said to have retreated deeper into his own world, because "no one can understand him". Again, checks out with the imagery of "gifted son" that is treated like a narcissistic parent's doll and that becomes desensitized to many things over time.

His alien guardian Heperu even looks vaguely phallic and Luka has body language of "trying to disappear" or soothing himself when not up the stage - hugging knees, looking smaller, sucking on sleeves, stimming with toys (rubik's cube). The scars on his chest seem related to the abuse of submitting him to pain to overcome fear and I theorize the scars on the side may have been for plastic surgery like abdominoplasty or even possibly removing ribs. Normally that would be done from the back, but hey - alien science, and he already had "tainted" scarred skin on the front, so it would make sense to try preserving his back. His waist is drawn really really thin. It's also mentioned that he had a strict diet even though he is a big eater - that is, Heperu is deeply violating his agency in accordance with Lookism.

Luka has all the makings of a really tragic character and reminds me of Kamiki Hikaru's construction in Oshi no Ko. A victim turned abuser in some ways, as a way to seek autonomy, self expression and living for their ideals and love, no matter how twisted it has become.

There's a comic that has a "flashback" of anakt garden and Hyuna being asked by Luka if she likes to sing. The POV of Hyuna's face looks as soft as Luka's does from hers. She tells him that they don't have freedom for anything else, but when she is up at the stage, it's like her life is "her own", so she likes it. The image of Luka singing as an adult suggests that even now, those are the words he pictures and that is the image of Hyuna that is alive in his mind.

In a way, both of them are deeply attached to the past, and while Hyuna wants to shut it down completely and regrets it having happened, Luka's feelings are twisted.

We don't know much about the kiss. Considering the "sucking on forehead" comics, I get the feeling Hyuna was startled by the sudden escalation from Luka acting as a passive, cute pet and jumping her with so much intensity, but may not necessarily have pushed him away. The following fight could either have happened because Hyuna became withdrawn as a result of suddenly becoming aware of the effect she was having on Luka and what their feelings for each other were (since previously, she might not have been able to tell the difference between being all over her brother and all over Luka) /or/ the scenario played out like the forehead sucking. She didn't dislike it, but Luka became insistent or they got caught in a way that Hyuun Woo had no context for, thus assuming Luka was forcing her.

And there is a third option too that now I think about it, seems the /most/ likely: the growing proximity to Hyuna made Luka's feelings of "wanting ownership and exclusivity" even deeper because of love and lust, as simply being assured he is "loved" doesn't seem to be enough for Luka. It could be that Hyuna in fact disliked his attempt of kissing her and became more distant to him. Thus, he orchestrated for Hyuna to take his side once again for validation in a reckless way - but the results were "better than he thought" when it resulted in Hyuun Woo's death. Because, that is a price so heavy that it feels like "wow, you actually chose me".

This scene is super interesting, I love Luka's expression. It's joyful in a "perverse" way. He was successful in trapping his beloved Hyuna. And it seems that the emotion is so intense, like he is finally free from the mask of pitiful wounded animal with no agency over himself that the sheer ecstasy might have caused a seizure or heart attack, hence his eyes looking glassy afterwards and his fingers finally turning the blue/purple hue we see on his older design.

Skimming through the patreon posts, I was pleasantly surprised to realize my gut feeling about Ivan and Luka having a similar core wasn't wrong. Sua in comparison is the scenario of someone who doesn't go off to the deep end as the two of them. It's often stressed that the team was worried about establishing Luka and Ivan as distinguishable - their personalities are similar, but their masks are different. Ivan presents himself as the "big bro", while actually being a boy struggling with properly expressing emotions that went as far as practicing smiles and expresions at the lake. Whereas Luka is like a porcelain doll and passive - austere, even...but what about his real self?

We're cleverly prevented from seeing an introductory MV for Luka, as round 4 doesn't happen. And for the subsequent videos, Luka shows himself partially by not disclosing his POV, but showing important sides of himself - the urge to control and the attempts to "become whatever is desired of him". A blank slate.

In a sense, that's implying to me Ivan and Luka's stage presence is an expression of their "inner selves", where their feelings and thoughts become bare. Ivan does so by casting aside his big bro warmth and stepping in as the image of a serious-faced, strongly devoted man that is coming apart at the seams with the weight of his immaturity, sadness, love and obsession.

Luka's stage presence is a distant cry from his image of passiveness and class behind the scenes. On stage, he is a seasoned performer and a calculating prince that enjoys pulling the strings to reach the ideal performance as seen in his inner world. He cunningly displays a different expression between the audience and his partners to achieve the ideal results. Luka acts like both a director and an actor while performing, in order to construct his vision - He's bold, confident and invades people's personal spaces.

(What a condescending little shit. I love him. His expression seems to be saying something like..."Done already? Hmph. I expected more of you. You need to do something for me to do my part and shine, too."

A point I theorize about Ruler of My Heart - Hyuna says in the artbook, I think, that Mizi reminds her of herself. Luka would be able to pick up on that also, especially since Mizi had just been broken by the loss of the one she loved most and formerly had that spark of "hope and dreaming high" in her eyes. Luka may have chosen the song specifically to have Mizi recreate the "role of Hyuna" envisioned for it - as in, he never expected her to be obedient at all. He was riling her up to feel what Hyuna might have responded like to this song. But the Hyuna in his idealization is probably "blazing, absolute and strong" - instead of shutting down and giving up singing. Mizi lets herself get intimidated by his provocation into silence, but when she loses it to punch him in the face with no regard for the consequences - like Hyuna surely would do - is when he finally smirks. It's also a mockery of letting emotions take her over, securing his win and further reinforcing he is "in the right". )

Another interesting tidbit is that Luka's personality isn't of the ethereal "pitiful-but-nice" character, but rather something that "fits VIVINOS taste". He is also compared frequently to Ivan in personality/mindset, who is described as a "bad boy" with a possessive/manipulative streak. If the sides of Ivan we get to see that related to Till are fairly tame and the team worries so much about contrast, that seems to imply that Luka embraces the more extreme parts left out of Ivan.

Even more interesting than that is the core of Luka's character inspiration - "the little prince", which I assume most people have read before. It's a children's book about an adult meeting a little prince from space and basically sharing life lessons.

If we look a little beyond the "cute blond kid"/moon motif...the most striking aspect about the Little Prince is probably the idea of the rose and the fox. The immature prince is taught the concept of love and responsibility by a wild fox - that to tame someone is to make them unique, and it's the time spent nurturing that love that makes it precious. The prince had been frustrated by a Rose he thought he loved, but grew annoyed by because he could not understand her. He also was confused upon realizing there were many roses in the universe, but his was too selfish and flawed. So is she not as unique as he thought? He starts missing the rose, and learns that there IS a difference - none of the roses are "his" or sound like "his" - because if they have tamed each other, going forward, he isn't just any little boy to his rose anymore - he is "the" boy, and she is "the" rose, unique in the universe.

This feels extremely relevant to a character presented as a "product" of gene editing and, basically, being created in a lab. The implication to me is that there may be many other "Luka"-like humans - the vast array of congenital diseases he manifests such as heart disease, Raynaud syndrome, asthma and chronic migraine all make him sound like their universe's equivalent of a white pug dog with dubious origins to boot.

What makes that test tube baby, raised by a ruthless alien that doesn't care about him as more than a way to vicariously live a life of success and luxury, unique in that case?

Love.

And my take is that, the fox and rose to his little prince are the siblings Hyun Woo and Hyuna.

(I'm suddenly reminded of the Vanitas no Carte Louis-Domi-Noé trio. Why do those never end well?)

IMO the rift created between Hyuna's brother and Luka wasn't necessarily there from the start. Before getting more strongly attached or opening up to Hyuna, Luka looks extremely detached. Hyuna's brother looked like the picture of excitement and youth, so it feels like he could have reached out to the quiet boy first and Hyuna tagged along. The settings mention something along the lines of Hyuna not quite being the origin of the "dreamer" outlook, but being inspired by her brother, and I can picture it.

Hyuna's MV All in and her relationship with Mizi painted to me the picture of a girl that is naturally attractive - her drive and sunny disposition are simply dazzling. But, underneath, there seems to be "something" doesn't it? I think Hyuna's charm comes from a mix of strength and vulnerability. She seems like the type of person to cope with humor and being flirty in order to lift people's moods and surprise them, but Hyuna herself can have quite heavy and serious feelings. The somber look suits her, and it's overall impressive that she didn't completely break because of her brother. It's like her innate talent for performing draws people to her, but at the same time she can sustain an illusion of "closeness", her true worries and wounds are kept deep inside and she doesn't let others truly see into her.

So.

What's shown in Blink Gone to me is that Luka's not merely surviving a death game, he is enjoying the show and trying to feel alive. To someone like him that probably already feels dead inside all the time and was "abandoned" by Hyuna, there is nothing much to look forward to. We don't know what happened between Hyuun Woo's death and their first alien stage run (quite a lot, since Hyuna even lost a leg) ot the timing of their relationship fall out. Given their memories and image of eachother, it does seem to be implied they were already going separate ways right after the incident.

It's likely that what connects Luka to Hyuna's memory the most is the feeling of performing itself - the one time he gets to be free. Luka acts like he is superior to the other pet humans for having "figured out" the system and feeding into it, and looks down on them for having no control over their emotions. But does he really have total control over his own?

In spite of all the abuse he embraced as his own will or believing he could truly get any power by playing the game according to its rules and "overcoming fear", someone as unpredictable and impulsive as Till is the natural enemy of someone like Luka. He had the upper hand as long as it stayed within his plan, but Till suddenly going as far as going back to the green light indicator was worrisome. Luka's Stamina is actually rather crappy, so if Till did decide to go all out, he might have been cooked.

I think, to Luka, it's probably about more than keeping himself alive. And Till flipping the game then would have made him waste his life on a performance that was supposed to be easy -and- it must be annoying that Till strayed off-script. My hypothesis is that he wants to reach out to Hyuna, still - either by increasing the influence of humans to shift the world closer to the one she envisioned, or by putting his life in the line at the stage as many times as possible to feel the "weight" of her presence as if she still were by his side or to grow so famous that she cannot ignore or escape him.

Deliciously hypocritical of him to look down on others so much, when Hyuna's unannounced presence shook him so badly he turned his back to the stage and stared at her with an expression we'd never seen before.

My take is that her walking in like this is seriously the worst scenario to him. Luka expresses in the artbook that he pities Hyuna and that her safety would have been guaranteed with him, so - because of his influence - I think he might actually have gone to the Alien Stage again to secure his power status AND request to keep Hyuna out of it. A condescending sort of domestication we know she would hate, but would keep her safe.

But see. Even if she wasn't under his care, being out there causing a ruckus is one thing - she's alive and kicking, not really in the slaughterhouse. He can live with that. So, he sings to his heart's content. And...

His sneering that people are suuuch rookies at controlling their emotions...

Sooo weak to let their emotions and regrets dominate them and make them lose sight of the stage, compared to his Super Competent self that can overcome fear and control his own heart rate...

All came back to bite him in the ass, like an idiot.

All other characters were pitted against their worst case nightmare scenario, and I doubt the Prince will be an exception. I really don't think his type of obsessive is wanting to be superior to or beat Hyuna at performing either, even if it's his guardian's mindset (it seems Heperu feels inferior to Hyuna's guardian and adopted Luka simply as a means of beating him - so seems very possible he will push for having the two face off and prove Luka's "superiority").

No matter what he does now, it's either Hyuna against Mizi at the risk of death or Hyuna against him. Hyuna's a wanted criminal - there is absolutely no talking a way out of that one. Not only that, Hyuna's bleeding from her wound already. Luka facing against Hyuna as the second time champion would mean being forced to choose - keep rulling the stage, or chose the one who was his guiding light in the first place?

The imagery from the sweet dream opening (as well as Luka having covered that song) is "release" - Luka dying at Hyuna's hand even if it's not something she can truly do with pleasure, no matter how much she copes with her past wounds by hating him. I wonder if it's a red herring or if it will play out, I particularly want whatever will allow to explore their character, feelings and motivation the deepest.

I don't think Hyuna wandered onto the stage for his sake - it seems like it's for Mizi, who is completely frozen. Hyuna probably has up until now coped with hating Luka because he represented everything she was rebelling against - the "system" itself. A nasty cog in the engine of the aliens who, even if not directly, ultimately were the cause of the entire context that stripped her away of her freedom and lead to her precious brother's death.

However...

My guess to what's happening here isn't "wow your outfit is so slutty" or "you've grown". It's more like...Luka suddenly looks too human.

He wasn't supposed to.

...Phew. That's all for now. The ADHD gets strong when I'm talking about something that tickles my brain, so I hope that wasn't too messy/unintelligible to follow with the back and forth jumping timelines or repeating points of interest I did.

Well! I really, really wish there was more for me to keep going, but for now I'll live with overthinking with what we have. I might do separate analysis/speculation for the MVs if I have a deadline I'm procrastinating on come up the time.

Bottom line is, I think all those characters are very interesting, but Hyuluka are the ones I'm rotating like a rotisserie chicken in my mind. Plz hurt me more VIVINOS team and thanks for the good fucking food

[t-a-a-1]

The Darkest Hour

Ch.2: Trust

Summary:

After being labeled as crazy for trying to report that robot aliens exist on national television, you lose your job and move to Jasper City. In a drastic turn of fate, you meet Optimus Prime. You and Team Prime get together to find ancient relics that are vital to the Autobot's cause.

Along the way, you and Optimus start to develop feelings that go beyond comradeship.

But what happens when he discovers you've been lying all of this time?

……..

This story is a slow burn. Eventual smut. Optimus develops an unhealthy attachment (he is smitten, obsessed) to you but nothing OOC. Lots of yearning, craving, hurt, betrayal, erotic and that good stuff. Ok bye. In case of any questions, comments, concerns, suggestions, requests, etc. You may message me here. Thank you for reading!

For a better reading experience you can read this story on Ao3:

>>>

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60642838/chapters/154846393

Ch.2: Trust

It's about a 14-hour drive. You had given Optimus coordinates of where the relic is supposed to be.

    He doesn't need gasoline to function. He had something called 'Energon' that kept him going. It was awkward to ask him to stop every two hours at a gas station. But you had your necessities and you couldn't go without food either. You envied him to an extent. His biology seems to be very static, mostly because his species has lived for millions of years. He doesn't change, no matter what he eats or not. You wonder how he viewed time.

After millions of years pass, will he remember you? Probably not. To him, you will be just another human he met on a little planet called Earth.

And you wouldn't want it any other way.

"Prime, don't you need to rest?" you ask him, he has been driving for about eight hours. And besides the occasional restroom breaks you had to make, he didn't stop.

"No."

    He is not much of a talker. You were not going to force him to talk either.

    There were so many questions you wanted to ask but you know he won't give you an answer.

    "So ... Do you like being the leader of the Autobots?"

You didn't know what else to say or ask. The question sounded stupid and you only realized that now after asking. But you hated the silence and more so the uncomfortable atmosphere.

"Yes."

    You weren't expecting him to answer. You wouldn't blame him if he didn't. However, you are glad he did.

"And tell me, how did you came to be the leader of the Autobots?"

    Maybe you were pushing it a little. But if you were certain of something, is that men love to talk about themselves. Of course, you didn't know if the same rule applied to a robotic alien but it didn't hurt to try.

"I was an archivist with dreams," his voice is gentle but you can't tell anything from it. Not a single emotion. "Young and with a lot of hope. That was enough to make me a Prime. I am sure you can imagine the rest."

"An idealist with charisma and unbreakable morals," you look at the road in front of you. It's starting to get dark. "Do you also want to pretend to die as a hero?"

"I am no hero," he said. "I am just a soldier."

"I never said you were. But a part of me believes you are pretending to be one," you tried to watch your words, trying not to sound too hard.  "Will you listen to advice from an organism that has lived not even a quarter of your life?"

    Optimus stays quiet.  You took this as a sign to continue.

"I've met all kinds of people. Idealists, people who had good intentions, people who thought they would change the world," On the path, you saw that you were approaching a bump on the road. "They all liked playing hero."

    You thought Optimus would slow down but he didn't. Instead, he goes over it, causing the whole truck to go up and down. You were wearing a seat belt but it wasn't secure enough. Your head impacts the top of the truck and you fall down quickly to your seat again.

    You thought that either Prime was careless and didn't care about your well-being or he was trying his show his annoyance.

"And at the end when it comes to war, their morals bend. They kill, they make others suffer," you rub your head, pretending that it didn't hurt you so as to not give him any type of satisfaction.  "Don't pretend to be something you can't be."

"Anyone can be a hero."

    There's finally some emotion in his voice. One you could recognize. Determination.

    You quickly remember that you have to pretend. To believe things you no longer believe.

"The world doesn't need a hero, it needs a leader," the night has finally arrived. On the vastness of the road, nature surrounds you.  "And I've never seen anyone be both. I don't think such a person exists."

    You don't blame him for having such idelogies. After the things he's been through, there's nothing left for him to do but hope.

And you shouldn't be talking about morals you no longer have.

"If I ever see such a person, I'll know the moment I lay eyes on them."

    He doesn't do anything and you thought that would be the end of the conversation.

"If you do, please, allow me to meet them as well."

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    It was the middle of the night when the two of you arrived at your destination. You looked at Optimus as the two of you stared at a plateau. It was impressive, to say the least, but nothing you haven't seen before.

"It's ... a really big rock ..."

    It was a first time for Optimus. Nevada may have high elevation points but nothing compared to this. Coming from a planet that was completely made out of metal, his mind may not have been able to imagine that nature could create something way bigger than him.

    He stood around 32 feet tall while the plateau stood around 2,000 feet, maybe even more.

    He kept looking at the scenery around him while you could only look at him.

    You stared at him in awe. You were so close and could hear a few vents, his engines, there was nothing static about him. He was a living, conscious being, with feelings, ambitions and passions, dreams. He was no human but it didn't feel uncanny.

"Are you listening?"

    You had been staring for too long. You quickly turn to look at the cave in front of you. The entrance was big enough to let Optimus inside on his normal size. No need to shift.  It was completely dark but you couldn't feel safer than being accompanied by a 32-foot-tall, gun-loaded robot.

"We go in, I stay close to you."

    He vents heavily. Feeling like you were more of an inconvenience to him. Of course, you were, you were a tiny forgettable human after all. You didn't care, however, he will learn to stand you eventually.

    You had brought a backpack. Inside it, there were cigarettes, a lighter, a blanket, tape, some cash, and other things you might need.

    From it, you pull the flashlight.

You sigh and see your warm breath contract in the coldness with a small fog.

    It's cold. You were wearing multiple layers of clothes but you even know that spending too much time here won't do you any good. It's better to finish the job quickly.

You walk inside the cave first. You were walking based solely on instinct. Waiting for Optimus to take the lead.

"Coordinates show that the relic should be 20 meters inside from here."

    He looks at his wrist, seeming to read something from a data pad.    

"Sounds good, Prime," you say, as you point your flashlight in different directions. You weren't very fond of dark places, but you couldn't let that show.

    It was an awkward walk. Nothing to say but listen to a few nocturnal bugs.

    A few seconds passed until Optimus transformed one of his hands into a laser pistol. It looks exactly like you thought an alien gun would look like. You don't know what better way to describe it but it was simple, made of metal and blue. Mostly resembling big cannons.

    You look over and see what Optimus was pointing at.

"It's a firefly."

    You softly put a hand on his metal leg. You run your fingers through his metal. Signaling him to put them down and hopefully, calm him.

"It's fine."

    You walk past him as he puts away his cannons, his eyes follow you. You don't notice but he studies you. Your delicate touch, engraved on his processor. It felt nice.

But he didn't think about it too much.

    After walking a few more meters in silence. You and Optimus finally find what you've both been looking for. It looked like a plant pot. A very ancient one. White on its base while it had green decorations, it was sealed.

    It was big, not something you could carry. But it should be something simple for Optimus.

    You put a hand on the alien pot but then you hear something on the walls. It all happened too fast, all you could hear was an explosion and fire in front of your eyes. You felt a strong force pick you from the ground. Moving you from side to side with brute force, you know you will end up with bruises and a few injuries.

    Suddenly, your world turns black.

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     You wake up coughing up. Having lost complete consciousness wasn't a first for you but it brought you uncomfortable memories. You are on top of a cold metal platform. But as you look around you realize that it's Optimus' chassis.

    You two were outside the cave. You looked at his face and noticed his optics were closed. Optimus somehow managed to take you out of the cave before collapsing. The reason behind his current state was the hole in his chest, very close to his core.

    A blue liquid was coming out of it.

Still having your backpack on your shoulders, you quickly opened and pulled out the blanket.

"I sent Agent Fowler our coordinates."

    You hear Optimus' voice, he sounds weak but you are glad he is alive.

"I apologize I can't take you back. But I am leaking too much Energon and I wouldn't be able to go far regardless," he makes an effort to lift up his helm and look at his injury.

"Backup should be in the way. It should arrive in a couple of hours."

    You were listening to him as you placed the blanket on top of Optimu's injury. It was big enough to cover the hole. You used it in an absurd way to try and stop the blue liquid from leaking any further. You used the tape to try and keep everything together. You struggled a bit as your fingers were very cold and it was hard to move them. Nonetheless, your method seemed to work. It slowed the leaking enough.

"It's fine. You'll be fine."

    You reassured him. Taking a seat on his chassis and pulling out a cigarette, you turned it on, taking a deep puff before exhaling it. You had to stay warm some way or another. Although having a cigarette on a leaking truck may not be the best of ideas.

"At least we were able to get the relic, can't wait to see what's inside."

    Optimus held the pot on his right servo. You could see it from on top of his chassis.

    The bot was quiet and you looked at him. His optics were once again closed.

"Hey, why don't we talk for a bit?"

    You didn't know anything about Cybertronian biology but if it's similar to human biology in any way, then you know you had to keep him conscious.

"Tell me, what was Cybertron like?"

    He stays quiet. You hear him vent heavily as if he is trying to gain enough strength to talk. You thought he was going to tell you to stay quiet.

"Beautiful."

    He said.

"I still remember each building, each road, the lights, transformers happy and the young sparklings."

    You could hardly ever tell what he was feeling through his voice. But his melancholy was so evident that it made you pity him. It was as if he could see it, right in front of him, on his grasp. Yet, unreachable.

"Was I ... Was I-"

    He takes heavier breaths and you look at him. His optics opened up. Wider and there is some sort of amazement in them.  The kind of awe you had when you first saw him. A self-recognition of the beauty of things greater than you. The awe you can only find in nature in all its glory.

"What is that?"

"What?" You ask.

"That light."

    You look up at the sky and immediately notice what he is talking about. The dark night sky was decorated with purple, pink, green and yellow lights. Moving like a river made of light.

"Oh, the aurora borealis," you finish your cigarette and put the remaining in your backpack. You lay flat on Optimus' chassis. It's cold. All of him.

    Maybe you could start a fire but that would mean leaving Optimus alone to gather the necessary things and you knew how important it was to keep him conscious.

"It's actually not very common to see them this time of the year," you are starting to feel sleepy as well. Your body was slowly acclimating to the coldness. It wasn't a good sign but you had no energy left to move.

"Maybe it's a sign from the universe."

"And what kind of sign would that be? Optimus asked, he could feel you shivering on top of him but was so lost in the sky above him that he didn't notice at first.

"Whatever you want it to be."

    It was moments like this that made you appreciate the small things in life. You have done many things, not everything you wanted but more than you originally expected.

"Thank you for existing, Prime," your voice trembles and is low to the point in which you don't know if he can even hear.

"To you, knowing that there are living species on other planets may be common knowledge," you were completely changing the topic of conversation. But as you feel your eyes close, you start to mumble to yourself. You didn't care if he was listening or not. It was just you, trying to keep a desperate grasp on whatever consciousness you had left.

"But to me, a small human, who grew up thinking that that there was nothing more to life than just growing old and dying..."

    You stop trembling. You couldn't feel anything, it wasn't cold anymore.

"Your whole being, your whole existence... it means something. It's not all meaningless, there's more to life than just this."

    You finally close your eyes, resting. Unable to hear Optimus desperately calling your name, trying to wake you up.

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    You didn't know how long you were asleep. It's not like you cared either. The only thing that matters is that you are in a warm bed.

    But the light in the room was too bright to let you fall into slumber.

    Slowly opening your eyes, you immediately knew that you were in a hospital. Not because of your surroundings but because of that very specific smell. Of medicine, needles, and cleaning products.

"You are finally awake."

    You recognized that voice. It was Agent Fowler who stood next to your bed.

"Tragically."

    You sit on the bed, your body no longer cold but it hurts. Some bruises but nothing feels broken.

"You were out for about three days, don't worry, I contacted your job and told them you were extremely sick," Fowlers picks up a case from the floor.

"How's Prime?" you ask, seeing his every move, you predicted and feared what'll happen next.

"He's alright. That blanket you put on his injury saved him actually."

"And the relic?"

"Under Autobots' jurisdiction," he opened the case but restrained from fully revealing its content. "And under scientific investigation."

"Why are you here?"

    He had a burlesque smile decorating his face. Finally, he pulls piles of paper and puts them on your lap. He holds out a pen in front of you.

"You forgot to sign some documents."

    You harshly took the pen, you didn't even bother to read the papers. It's not like you had any other choice.

"Give me a copy of these when you can," you say. "I could be selling my soul to the devil and I wouldn't know."

"You are giving your secrecy to the United States of America."

"So the same thing, whatever."

    You finish signing the contract, giving the pen back to Fowler as he takes your documentation.

"Well, then, now that's done,"  he puts the papers back in the case and closes it. "I'll introduce you to the rest."

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    There were others similar to Optimus. Without counting the leader of the Autobots, there were four of them. A nice yellow car, a big green one, a blue motorcycle and an ambulance. There was a great variety.

    You didn't know what you found more interesting. The base was large enough to withstand five massive titanic robots or the robotic aliens that looked up and down at you.

"Ratchet, Bumblebee, Arcee and Bulkhead," you point at each of the Autobots. Their optics were really big and they were curious about you as much as you are about them.

"Have I seen you before?"

    Bulkhead asks as he struggles to get closer to you. He is trying to take a better look at your face to recognize it.

"Well, I work as a reporter and come out on TV sometimes," you were equally in awe. You feel so small and weak at the simple thought that if they wanted, they could stomp on you like you could step on a cockroach.

"Oh, you are that reporter that Optimus likes."

"Uh?"

"She is, I remember her face," Arcee gets closer to you. Her digits touch your hair delicately.  "Optimus never misses your reports. Or he records them if he can't see them in time."

"Really? I didn't know that."

    You suddenly feel a sense of pride. Smiling like an idiot.

"By Primus, I am sure he freaked out when he saw you," Bulkhead added unaware of the figure behind him.

"Bulkhead, let's not bother our guests with unnecessary information."

    You stood on the second floor. The section where Agent Fowler usually stands when he likes to talk to the Autobots face to face. 

    Optimus walks past everyone, trying to get a better look at you. He notices a few bruises on your arms.

    You saw some discomfort in his eyes, you wondered if he felt guilty about the explosion. But you thought it would have been better to ignore it and pretend like it didn't hurt you.

"Good to see you are doing fine, Prime."

"I could say the same," his voice sounds more endearing. Less monotone and more vivid. "But I would appreciate it if you stopped calling me Prime and called me Optimus instead."

"Can't do," you moved your head from side to side. The only reason why you called the other bots by their first names is that they didn't have any known last names.

     "Sorry, but I only call people I am close to by their first name. For now, let's keep formalities until we are more acquainted with each other."

    Unconsciously, Optimus gets closer to your face. He seems fascinated by your existence, looking at you the same way you look at him. At awe.

"As you wish."

    You and him shared a few seconds of mutual understanding. Unaware of the looks the other Autobots were giving to each other.

"So, you want to help us find some ancient relics?"

    Arcee was the only one who dared to break the moment. Mostly because everyone felt a little left out of the situation.

"Yes, and I have everything I need right here."

    You turn around to show everyone your backpack. It was rather big and it hurt your back, but after all the events you didn't want to look weak.

"Optimus,"

    Ratchet, who had been nonchalant to the whole situation, finally leaves his area of work to be part of the conversation.

"In your message, you said you had doubts about this human's trustworthiness. Do your feelings remain the same?"

"My feelings towards the matter are not important," Optimus finally steps back, leaving you surrounded by the gigantic bots. "I leave it to you all to decide."

"I am not sure about having a human on missions," Arcee said. "But if she can help us find those relics, I think she should stay for the meantime."

Bumblebee says something you don't understand but it must be something good because you see Bulkhead nod his helm.

"I agree with Bee. She saved Optimus's life. I think she can be trusted."

    Everyone had given their opinion. All eyes then lay on Ratchet who kept a distance from you.

"Ratchet?" Optimus called his name, insisting him to give his opinion on the matter.

"Humans don't do good on cold. You had a blanket that could have helped your survival chances but instead, you used it on Optimus to try and stop the leaking."

    He takes a few steps closer to you and with each step, you feel your body vibrate.

"Why did you do it?

    This was a test. You thought of your honest answer. That your life was insignificant compared to that of an organic being that is almost extinct. There were many humans but only a few Cybertronians.

"Because it was the right thing to do."

    You quickly say, knowing that you didn't have enough time to think about a proper response.

    Ratchet takes a few steps back, going back to his original position. Your heart is beating fast, afraid that you have given the wrong answer.

"Humans can be very unpredictable. Treachurus, deceitful," Ratchet looks at Optimus who stays quiet. He paused and then looked at you.

     "But you have proved to be useful and selfless."

"And most importantly, you saved Optimus's life," Ratchet adds. "For that, I'll agree that you should stay ... um ... What's your name again?"

"Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself," you say, finally relieved to have everyone's approval. "I am (Y/N), nice to meet you!"

        You smile and it was returned by everyone.

    But you look at Optimus who had a soft and delicate smile. Maybe it was the first time you saw past his cold demeanor.

"Welcome to Team Prime."

    After hearing that, you knew were one step closer to your goal.

Mission One: Obtaining the trust of the Autobots.

Status: Complete.

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A/N:

I never thought I would end up writing Transformers Fanfiction but here I am!

    This was harder than I thought, I usually write fantasy so writing something based on Earth was a bit strange.

I do want to apologize if I made any mistakes, lore-wise. I am new to Transformers so I am still learning! I feel like I will be taking some liberties while writing this story as a means to progress to the romance between the reader and Optimus.

Also this is based on Transformers Prime TV Show, so the kids will show up later.

This is a 'slow-burn' story (or not idk)  so I'll slowly build up the tension until Optimus develops an unhealthy attachment to you. Nothing out of character tho (Because I love it when the emotions evolve so much to the point of them being uncontrollable)

    I really would like to explore ways in which Optimus deals with different feelings unknown. Like if he feels jealous, would he try to keep you closer? Would he be afraid to lose you? I think as we progress we will find out.

Also, there will be angst, just because I love betrayals and pain. The yearning and craving to see each other.

I have to finish another story from another fandom but when I am done with that I'll publish more here. Or who knows maybe I'll publish often.

Then again, sorry for any mistakes I made whether its lore wise or grammatical and spelling-wise.

If anyone read this, thank you so much for reading! I do hope you enjoyed it!

Ch.1 >>>

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/767425006949089280/the-darkest-hour?source=share

Ch.3:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/768513873838030848/the-darkest-hour?source=share

[dulltoned]

Kismet Facts!

In order of oldest to youngest band member.

Ablaze

Four years older than Branch.

- Part Rock Troll. - Anger issues through the roof - He learns how to manage his anger later in life but when he's a kid it's bright and boiling and constant and it makes him feel alienated and unwelcome and scared. - Branch is the one who helps him realize that everyone gets angry, even if it isn't explosively like Ablaze, but Branch himself can relate to feeling like he's nothing more than a ball of rage. - He has a lot of energy and can really be the epicenter of a party. - Ablaze is one of the first candidates to take an exhausted or wasted Troll home from a party because not only will he keep them safe but he's strong enough to carry them home if they pass out. - He lives with his parents and his grandpa, he lost his grandma to Trollstice but he never knew her. Sometimes he feels bad that he doesn't mourn her like the rest of his family. - He thinks Hype is annoying at first and he isn't quiet about it. After he spends a bit more time with the glitter troll, though, he finds that Hype is actually a kind-hearted soul who's eager to offer an ear and apologizes through gritted teeth about his behavior. The two of them are incredibly close after that. - He's not good with trickier emotions but Kismet knows that when he does sit down to talk about things or assure them, even if it's with a scowl on his face, that he's being sincere.

Trickee

Three years older than Branch

- Painfully optimistic but not nearly as bad as Poppy. - Trickee can be a little ignorant to how terrible the world is sometimes but it's not by lack of exposure. He grew up around his Aunt and Uncle going at each other's throats and to him conflict is just a normal part of life. Sometimes it takes a little extra push to get him to realize that fighting or insults aren't normal. - He lives with his Mom, Aunt, Uncle, and baby cousin. He gets overlooked fairly often thanks to the infant in the house but he doesn't mind too much, he uses the freedom to explore the village and spend time with Branch. - His mother hates Branch, she thinks he's a skid mark on the bright image of the village. She doesn't know that he's Trickee's best friend. - After his initial confrontation with Creek to help Branch Trickee's made it a goal in his life to help people who can't see to help themselves. He gets into a lot of fights but he hasn't lost one yet. He keeps a tally of how many times he's had to pleasure of punching Creek. - Trickee is very in-tune with his emotions but he's not really eager to feel the more negative ones. He'll go desperately out of his way to try and cheer himself up and it's a good tell for the others that he's not in a good headspace. - He constantly trips over boundaries but he's very apologetic when he realizes. - He doesn't know what happened to his Dad. His mom says that he died during Trollstice but Trickee thinks she sounds too angry with a dead man for that to be true.

Hype

Three years older than Branch

- ADHD Nightmare - Hype struggles a lot with executive dysfunction. He's a very energetic and organized person so when he knows he has to get things done but he just can't he spirals. - Kismet do their best to help. When Hype just can't do something they'll start for him. If Hype needs to organize his room Kismet will be there with some tubs to start the process and make it a game between friends and it usually helps a lot. - He's really loud and he's constantly moving but he's one of the sweetest trolls you could ever meet. He's always happy to listen and he'll be a shoulder to cry on for anyone that needs it. - He's ridiculously smart. When he's eventually allowed into Branch's bunker he's the only person who ever recognized his organization system. - Hype lives with his parents and his siblings. He has an older sister and a younger brother and while they aren't the closest they do love each other. His parents are a little overbearing and don't really understand how his brain works but they try. - He has stupidly overreactive tear ducts. It does not take much to make him cry, happy tears, excited tears, angry tears, sad tears. Kismet will tease him about it sometimes and he'll glare daggers at them while they laugh.

Boom

Two years older than Branch

- Gay but not a stereotype. Your typical gay wouldn't be able to clock him if he didn't lean into the aesthetic as he gets older via rainbow hair and gay earring. - He's a bit of an airhead sometimes but he's astonishingly emotionally intelligent. He's the best at reading the rest of Kismet and he'll always be the first person to pull one of the other members aside to make sure that they're okay. - He's a great listener, to the point where you won't even realize that he's doing it. He'll say just the right thing to get you talking about whatever's bothering you and then by the time your done letting it all out he'll just be there with a soft smile and gentle assurances. - He wishes he was smarter. He's not stupid but sometimes he misses the mark and his dad has always made fun of him for it. He can tell that his dad doesn't mean to be malicious but the jokes hurt sometimes and it's made him a little insecure about his intelligence. He's jealous of Branch and Hype sometimes, they're both so smart, but that only makes him feel worse because it's not their fault. - Life of the party. Boom is the kind of troll that'll bring the good alcohol and end the night drunk on the nearest table, screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs and shining like the sun under the spotlights. - He wished he wasn't gay when he was a kid. Not because people were mean about it or because it was wrong but because it made him different in a way that he wasn't really comfortable with when he was younger. The more time he spent with Kismet the more he realized that differences made people better and made them easier to love and so he leaned into what made him stand out. - He lost his mom during the Great Bergen Escape. He and his dad assume that she's long dead but losing her has only brought them closer.

Branch

Twenty-four as of Band Together (Twenty-two in the first Trolls).

- Getting close to people again terrifies him. Everyone he's ever loved have left him, willingly and otherwise, so meeting people and caring about them shakes him to his core. - He tries really hard to keep the rest of Kismet away. He snaps and he threatens and he scowls but they all keep coming back. They come back because he treats their wounds when they're hurt, he listens when they're angry. These people have entered his life and shown him kindness and support that felt so foreign to him now and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he left them alone to hurt. - Hype is the only person Branch will ask for advice on his inventions and projects. He's seen how brilliant Hype is and he can respect it. - It takes him a long time to let them into the bunker for any longer than ten minutes at a maximum. They're only allowed in for patch jobs for a while and they're never allowed pasted the first room. It's only after he finishes the kitchen and the living room that he even begins to let them look around the space and even then it makes his skin crawl. - Eventually Branch makes them their own space. He hates having them in his bunker but he's come to enjoy spending time with them so he does something about that. He finds a big space under some tree roots not too far away from his bunker and he transforms it into a large recreational area with couches and games and even a small kitchen and bathroom. That space is where they end up forming Kismet.

[applestorms]

following the very funny take that L just speedran his feelings for light from denial to acceptance over the course of the tennis game alone, i do think that even if L was somehow aware of the fact that his feelings verged on less-platonic he wouldn't necessarily see them as being requited. or alternatively, that if they are, light is too much of a repressed freak to ever get over his own bullshit enough to make it actually happen.

like i said in my own tags, this perhaps is another anime/manga difference to me. to elaborate...

in both cases, i think it starts off mostly the same: L's interest is Piqued when he realizes KIRA might actually be a human person, with the high of that feeling hitting its peak during lind l tailor as his theories are confirmed -> L's feelings about KIRA develop/are further complicated as he starts investigating light specifically. personally, i think he starts getting Interested™ while stalking him through the cameras in their house & seeing how he acts under the mask, realizes his feelings are Developing in a way he didn't expect the more he watches, and is fully in the Annoyance/Denial stage when he's autism staring at him throughout the testing sequence (could still vary) -> he works through/accepts it by the end of the tennis game, like a kind of background process monologue, maybe capping off specifically when light beats him.

following this, it seems natural to me that there would be a period where L furthers his investigation on light as KIRA while simultaneously also kinda trying to figure out how DTF he is. he's already pretty certain about the former point so a lot of this is just checking his work, watching very carefully to see if he can push light into losing his cool again and giving himself away, which has the additional side effect of pushing his newly developed crush to the front of his brain on a regular basis through sheer necessity.

this all comes to a head w/ misa's arrest. again, at some point throughout this time frame i think L starts putting enough pieces of the Light Yagami puzzle together to start figuring out that he's either 1. not interested entirely, or 2. never gonna fucking admit anything truthful about who he actually is, ever, even to himself. perhaps the next planned step of L's approach would be to push light into telling the truth or revealing something genuine about himself period, even outside of the KIRA investigation itself, but this gets fucked up by light's little memory loss/alternation plan.

yotsuba is interesting because it obviously gets to L quite a bit, showing aspects of his character that we don't really see outright before that point. it is well known that L is a filthy little liar, and that he specifically uses his lies as a way of testing light, but i think yotsuba is when he kinda. gives up on that. in a way, light is being fully truthful during yotsuba, it's just that what he believes to be truth has been manipulated beyond what's usually humanly possible. so L gets what he wants but it's a twisted version of it, and still misses the key component that drew him towards light in the first place (KIRA).

he's grumpy, basically. his toys aren't working the way he wanted them to, so he's throwing them at the wall and demanding that they fix themselves again. as i said before, L is simultaneously incredibly alienated from (the rest of/his own) humanity and directs his entire focus on it- he's the world's greatest detective, not out of empathy or sympathy for human suffering, but because people are the most interesting/complex puzzle he's ever come across and the scale of mass murder makes his dick harder than anything else.

in a way, you could see him locking light away in this shitty little constantly watched cell/literally holding him on a handcuff leash at all times as L's attempt to recreate the feelings that started popping up while he was watching light in his house the first time, seeing the seeds of a serial murderer in his little perfect teenager pet. the most notable shift throughout all of this though is the fact that L starts telling the truth- to bring this classic panel back,

he's not bothering with the "ooo sounds like something KIRA would say," shtick now. honestly the only other time someone really gets this blunt about telling light he's KIRA to his face is near:

(think this might be my favorite near panel ever lmfao. finally found it in ch.80 =3=)

point is, L is both pissed and genuinely kind of depressed throughout most of yotsuba, or at the very least has been annoyed into spitefully shucking off all his duties cuz he doesn't wanna play the game anymore. childish, and a sore loser- just like he said.

ANYWAYS. the differences between the anime and the manga, right.

the main way this diverges is that i think L is definitely aware of his feelings in the anime. all of the evidence for this comes down to episode 25- the rain scene, the foot washing, "Have you ever told the truth once in your life?" and so on and so forth. part of this may actually follow the divergences of light's characterization between the anime and manga, but L is almost certainly talking about something that light isn't willing to admit during these scenes and it's motivating a lot of his hardest lines.

again, it's the two cases: either he's morose about the fact that his feelings are unrequited and kicking back as a final fuck you for getting pulled around for so long, or (and personally, i kinda think this is more likely) he is aware of the fact that light does like him back in that way and Supremely salty about the fact that he won't ever act on it. "It will be lonely, won't it," etc. etc. "You're gonna fucking miss me, bitch. You don't have to do this but you're going to tear us apart anyway, and I don't forgive you, never will." light is putting the game above them, and L is fucking mad about it lol.

sidenote: it's interesting that the tennis game itself kind of parallels/foreshadows L losing in this way. as i've said before, in the tags on some fucking post i don't even remember now, light knows throughout the tennis game that winning might add to his KIRA percentage (though it is admittedly still quite vague), but he chooses to go for it anyway. just can't stop himself from winning, even if it goes against him and everything he actually wants... some classic light yagami shit right there.

in the manga this is a lot less clear, specifically because we are lacking these scenes in particular. L's death just happens so goddamn quick in the manga, it rushes up and catches him by surprise basically the second he lets his guard down and stops watching light, so we don't get this same drawn out saltiness as he metaphorically bleeds out. this is not to say it isn't present entirely- much of the above analysis still applies to the manga just as much as the anime, but it is perhaps a lot more subtle to follow by the end.

honestly, that all being said, i think manga L is also a lot more likely to simply never figure his shit out when it comes to light. it's a particularly interesting part of canon to me that both of these interpretations actually seem to work equally well when it comes to L, that he is either fully aware for most of the series about his feelings or entirely unaware and never bothers to reflect or consider it. says something about his character i guess, that he still manages to hide or cloud so many of his internal thoughts that shit like this can be pretty ambiguous and still feel kind of core to his character.

anyways, thanks again to @ai-the-broccoli and that original post for kicking this particular essay off, as well as everyone else who responded for getting my brain rolling this time around :)

[mimikyuno]

someone probably already made a million post about the thematic relevance of julian’s lecture to the greek clique in chapter 1 in the overall narrative, how so much of what he is saying gets mirrored at various points as the story progresses. after all, this is the lecture that made the greek clique want to perform a bacchanal.

but i just noticed this one little parallel that is making me lose my mind a bit, to be honest.

I always found it peculiar that it was bunny who answered julian here – you’d think he wouldn’t remember the latin name for the erinyes, or that someone else might have said something. yet he is very engaged right now, “his eyes dazzled”.

i think there are two main reasons why bunny is the one who mentions the furies.

the first reason relates to julian’s words before his question. from a narrative point of view, by answering, bunny gets linked to these paragraphs.

“It is a terrible thing to learn as a child that one is a being separate from all the world, that no one and no thing hurts along with one's burned tongues and skinned knees, that one's aches and pains are all one's own. Even more terrible, as we grow older, to learn that no person, no matter how beloved, can ever truly understand us.”

bunny, the one often compared to a child, already before and especially after finding out about the murder starts hurting, worrying, and quickly realizes he is the only one to feel this way. the others are not sharing in his worries. they excluded him from the successful bacchanal, henry mocked him in his diary, and no one confided in him. they hid the fact that they murdered someone from him with apparent ease. after italy, suddenly henry is all chummy with richard, and the group includes him even more – and bunny feels like no one understands him, no one is willing to. they treat him like a dumb child, and try to keep him quiet.

the second reason why I find it peculiar that bunny is the one to answer julian is to be found in julian’s segue to bunny’s answer.

the book often mentions dante, who was led through hell and purgatory by virgil. while the number of erinyes/furies is ambiguous in greek mythology, virgil, in the aeneid, mentions three: alecto (endless anger), megaera (jealous rage), and tisophone (vengeful destruction). and isn’t this the core of bunny’s behaviour prior his murder? his anger towards the rest of the group, and especially henry, at excluding him, mocking him. his jealous rage towards richard. his vengeful destruction – almost revealing what the group has done, exploding at henry, mocking charles’s drinking, deriding and belittling camilla and her relationship with charles, being cruel to francis bc of his sexuality, alienating even richard, who didn’t have much to do with any of this, by trying to expose his lies about his past and how much money he has.

in chapter 5, richard wonders how come bunny was losing his mind and turning against his friends post-murder reveal (pls ignore richard being a pretentious baby btw) and we get this amazing insight from camilla.

in julian’s own words, the erinyes/furies drove people mad by turning “up the volume of the inner monologue, magnif[ying] qualities already present to great excess, ma[king] people so much themselves that they couldn't stand it.”

and isn’t that what camilla is alluding at here? as if possessed by the furies, bunny becomes so much himself, or what he thinks the others see him as – stupid, simple, annoying, less sophisticated than the others – that he cannot bear it, no one can. it all magnifies, all that he thinks the others dislike about him, belittle him for, laugh behind his back about.

there’s also something to be said about julian asking about the erinyes/furies by their greek name and bunny answering with the roman one. when it was in rome with henry that it all started to fall apart. but yeah

[yama-does-art]

Magic on the Lost Light - Part 2

Lost Light x (gn)reader

Part 1 | [Here] | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | End

Content: mtmte human oc insert, discontinued

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.4k

Buddy I

You nodded, gaining a smile from the metal giant before you. This was the third alien you have met today. The first being Perceptor, the science officer who found you suffocating to death. The second being Ratchet, the medic that saved you, and now this psychiatrist, Rung.

This one was smaller than the first two, lanky in both stature and build. It was nice to talk to him. Perhaps it was his profession shining through, but he seemed genuinely concerned for your welfare. It helped put you at ease, somewhat. 

Now you were just tired. One moment you were dozing off against a tree, the next you were on an alien ship unable to breathe. While you were grateful that they saved your life, it was rather jarring to see these holographic avatars interact with you. Entities that were not quite human. It was much easier trying to communicate to their true forms, even if they happen to be three stories tall.

Apparently, this species referred to themselves as Cybertronians, hailing from a planet called Cybertron. They are an autonomous group of  lifeforms, inorganic in nature, and composed of living metal. non-binary organisms, though masculine oriented when dealing with organic races. Referring to them as AI, robots, or machines is considered highly offensive, preferring to be called mechs instead.

This particular group is on a quest through deep space to find the alien equivalent of the Holy Grail. And you just happen to land on their ship that recently underwent a catastrophic engine failure that is being ‘handled’ by the current commanding officers. They don't even know where they are due to the ship's failure. In other words, nowhere near this world's Earth.

They said they meant you no harm. You hope that it is true. You want it to be true, yet there was no way to know until you meet the captain. At least the commanding officers had been to Earth before, so there was hope.

Hell.

You already missed the feeling of grass.

Rungs voice broke through your thoughts, “This must be an incredibly surreal experience. How are you feeling?”

That was a loaded question, if you ever heard one. Frustrated. Alone. Afraid. Overwhelmed. You sighed, "Tired, if I am being honest,"

It was fascinating how his facial expressions seem to mirror that of a human. A slight downward tug to his lips accompanied by furled eyebrows. “I still have to wait here but if you need to rest, don't let me keep you."

It was touching to see him actively worry about your needs. You wave him off, "it's fine, I won't be able to sleep anyway. Not until I meet your captain, that is. Do you have any water by chance?"

This time you heard something akin to an engine stall. “No I don't… I apologize, given the current circumstances, we would have to wait for Ratchet," his voices laced in static,"Is it life threatening?"

You have a small smile, "It is fine for now. Ask me again in another day or two."

Another engine stall and somehow he looked even more worried.

"Easy, there," you say, "Just a joke. Kind of. I still need water, but death by dehydration occurs roughly around 36 to 48 hours. Plenty of time."

The mech let out a stream of warm air. Was that a cybertronian equivalent to a sigh? "It pains me to admit that I know very little about organic races, let alone humans. Now that I am in your presence, it frightens me how fragile you are compared to Cybertronians. Something as simple as a lack of a critical resource could be considered fatal."

He cared. It was so touching, you could not help but walk over to where he rested his palm. You smiled, placing your hand on his. It surprised you that the metal was warm. "You are very kind Rung. Given the circumstances, I am glad you were one of the first mechs I got to speak to."

You could see his luminescent eyes flicker behind his glasses. More hot air was blowing in your direction. Perhaps it was an involuntary reflex to being uneasy? You backed away just in case. "Sorry, I didn't know how else to convey how grateful I am, I won't do that again if it makes you uncomfortable"

He frowned, tilting his head slightly. "What made you think that?"

"You emit more warm air when you frown, or during emotional parts of the conversation. I also saw your antenna twitch when I touched your hand, I didn't mean to be rude."

His mouth hung for a second before he shook his head, "You just startled me, that is all. Are all humans physical when conveying their emotions?"

You laugh, "yes, some more than others. It's actually detrimental to our psyche if we don't touch another living being for long periods of time."

More hot air drifted from the mech. "I cannot fathom living in such a precarious state, yet I am awestruck by your resilience to it all."

You slowed to a chuckle, "You underestimate my ability to compartmentalize my emotions. A part of me is absolutely terrified right now. "

His antenna twitched again. "Yet you still laugh."

“Heh, another biological response to stress,” you say, shrugging, “I talk and I joke because it is the only thing I can do. Without your continued kindness, I am incapable of  surviving on my own, at least in this environment. Don’t get me wrong, I am eternally grateful, but it leaves me in a rather uncompromising situation."

He frowned, the realization seemed to hit him. “Is that why you’re afraid?

“Oh sure, that’s a big part of it. I hate being trapped in general, so being here in an unknown location, surrounded by strangers, without any sense of agency definitely rubs me in all the wrong ways. It also doesn’t help that the lizard portion of my brain insists that you’re going to chop me up and cook me for dinner.”

Suddenly, you felt a rumble through your body. “That’s absurd! I would never do something as cruel and abhorrent as that to you. A cybertronian cannot even process organic matter, regardless of substance.” His frown deepened at the hearty laugh of the individual.

You tried to choke back your giggles, “Sorry, human joke. I know you’re not going to eat me. I mean, I’d be rather impressed if you could, but I figured as much.”

 He let out a long sigh rubbing his.. Nose arch? Do Cybertronians have a sense of smell? In one swift movement, he removed his glasses to place them to the side.

“I can see now, that your sense of humor is a defense mechanism. While I may not understand the biological mechanics of it, or the context of your jokes, I can see the pain behind it. Even though there are parallels between our respective species, it only confirms my belief that I would be unfit to serve a psychiatrist for one such as yourself. However,” He held his palm in front of you, his cyan optics met yours, "I, Rung of the Pious Pools, swear to you that I will do everything I can to help you through this.”

Fascinating, he managed to identify your coping strategy and acknowledge the similarities between your two species. He was also aware of their differences to admit that he could not serve in a professional capacity. So what was he asking of you? To believe in him? To trust him? You wanted to. Never in this entire conversation had you felt threatened. Even the medic and science officer was adamant about your safety.

You looked up to the copper toned Cybertronian, you realize that his optics was the same brilliant cyan as his core. Eyes were said to be a gateway to the soul. Was it also true for these giants? Why else would he remove his glasses if not a gesture of trust? You looked back towards his hand. You could hear faint ticks emanating from it and see plating shift even in its relative stillness, all reminders that it is a part of something very much alive. As you walked near him, a terrible thought came to mind. It was reckless, foolish, and insane. But it would also prove a point.In an instance, you swung your body into his palm, settling at its center. You grinned in satisfaction at the bot above. Taking careful note of the increased air circulation around you and how his antenna twitched violently while the rest of his body tensed. “Alright Rung of the Pious Pools, I am trusting you with this. My life is in your hands.”

Next ->

[edgy-ella]

I’ve been playing a little more Shadow 05 lately and I’m realizing that while yeah, this is Shadow’s game, I think the game could’ve benefitted a lot from exploring how the rest of the cast is handling the Black Arm invasion.

Up to this point in the series, Sonic has only ever fought robots, be they Badniks or GUN mechs. He’s duked it out with some rivals like Knuckles and eldritch beings like Chaos, sure, but they were either on par with him or didn’t take much lasting damage (outside of the Biolizard/Finalhazard I guess lol), and he only ever had to fight one of them at a time. But the Black Arms are different. They’re not mechanical. They’re alive. Worse than that, there’s a lot of them. Sonic spends at least two levels back to back (Westopolis and Lethal Highway) having to comb through the city and kill as many of these strange aliens as he can whether or not Shadow helps him, his fur drenched in their thick green blood. Sure, they’re all a part of an alien hivemind, but it’s still…different than what he’s used to. I wonder how he feels about that (same goes for Tails).

During the level Air Fleet, Black Doom mentions having personally placed the airships/temples in Glyphic Canyon to the planet over 2,000 years ago. So not only is Black Doom really, really old, he’s also got history with Earth/Mobius/Sonic’s World/whatever. Knuckles and Rouge pride themselves on being treasure hunters, with Knuckles in particular seemingly having a strong interest in old archeology. Makes you wonder if they’d at least heard of the Black Arms through some ancient texts or stone mural or something like that. Hell, if we wanna go really deep, we could also look at Tikal—she would’ve been there during Black Doom’s first visit. If she was at all conscious inside the Master Emerald and/or had the ability to leave it without the emerald shattering, there’s a chance she could have met or even tried to fight Black Doom. Hell, what even happened to Angel Island during the invasion we see ingame?

Even Cream could get something to contribute. Ingame you only ever see her once; you have to help Amy find her in Cryptic Castle as a part of that level’s hero mission. But that raises the question: why was Cream in a place like Cryptic Castle all by herself to begin with? It feels out of character for her, she’s usually not the type to get lost, but then you realize that she’s a little girl in the middle of an alien invasion. The Black Arms could’ve destroyed her home already, and she wanted to find some place isolated to hide. Where’s Vanilla in all of this, by the way?

Granted the game probably needed to address the elephant in the room of why no one ever sits down and talks to Shadow about his past/amnesia before it decides to tackle the emotions of its supporting cast, but still. Fun to think about.

[wanderinginksplot-writes]

Gar Cyare Chapter Twenty

You and Alpha travel to Coruscant for the trial. Nothing is quite the same as you remembered it.

Alpha-17 x fem!reader

Word Count: 6,500

Warnings: Nervousness, descriptions of space flight, made up descriptions of space flight, made up judicial proceedings, descriptions of a planet at war, feelings of alienation and displacement, loneliness, price-gouging

Previous | Next | Masterlist

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Coruscanta (Coruscant)

“Are you okay, neverd’ika?” Alpha asked, resting a hand over the fists you had clenched in your lap. 

You mustered a smile. “Yes, I’m fine. This is just… the first time I’ve left Kamino since I got here. It feels strange to be leaving. To have left.” 

Watching the water-covered surface of Kamino disappear into the distance had been a nerve-wracking experience. Alpha had asked several times if you were afraid of hyperspace travel, clearly picking up on your discomfort, but you had truthfully told him that you had no problem with hyperspace flights. 

No, leaving Kamino made you think of a permanent departure. Despite your best efforts, it would probably happen soon. Jaiss had asked about scheduling a meeting when you were on Coruscant, and you were sure that she wanted to speak with you about finalizing the report. 

The trip from Kamino to Coruscant was not quick or easy. There were numerous star systems that you had to skirt around, and the gravity wells would only grow denser as you approached the Core Worlds. 

Fortunately, the Republic had authorized one of their faster ships, and you were granted access to the Corellian Run hyperspace lane. Even so, the trip would take roughly three days. You were scheduled to spend a full week on Coruscant, but with your own ship, that time could be lengthened or shortened as needed depending on how the trial went. 

Trial. 

Your stomach twisted every time the word floated to the surface of your mind. 

“Breathe,” Alpha murmured, thumb rubbing over the stark peaks of your straining knuckles.

The two of you were in the small seating area between the cockpit and the bunks. There were two pilots in the cockpit, which was designed to stay enclosed. You had been quietly amused by that when you stepped aboard - did the Republic think there was a risk that you and Alpha would have stolen the ship and disappeared if left to your own devices? 

Fortunately, you had thought better of it before you pointed that out to Alpha. The idea of being a suspect for desertion probably wouldn’t have struck him as being as funny as it did to you. 

There was a small kitchen opposite the seating area. It was little more than a flash-reheater, a conservator, and a sink, but it meant that you wouldn’t be eating ration bars for the entirety of your journey, so you thought it was beautiful. 

When you had peeked into the barracks, it had held four bunks, but Alpha had already informed you that the pilots would switch off. Each one would get eight hours to sleep, then they would share the cockpit for another eight before the cycle continued. 

You had been a little awed when you asked Alpha how he knew. He had scoffed lightly. “Standard troopers are trained to follow orders, not to think for themselves. Pilots can be a little more difficult to anticipate, but not much. They’ll stick to that schedule because it’s how they were instructed, and how the regulations say to work a flight of this length.”

There was a lot in that statement that made you want to ask questions, but you were preoccupied by other matters. All you had caught was that they had a definite routine, which meant that you and Alpha were free to spend as much time together as you wanted. As long as you tracked when the pilots were due to be passing through on their way to the bunks, you would probably be fine. 

“Are there recorders on Republic transports?” you asked suddenly. It was such a natural continuation of your internal thoughts that it seemed plain to you, but Alpha gave you a strange look. “Visual or audio?” 

“Of course,” he confirmed. “The Republic wants to know everything that happens aboard one of their ships, and if the ship is attacked, they want to know what happened.” 

“Do you still have your disruptor puck?” you asked, much quieter. 

Alpha nodded. “Never go anywhere without it.” 

“I’m surprised they haven’t figured you out yet,” you said, unable to keep the note of admiration out of your voice. 

“They may have,” Alpha said with a shrug. “But no one wants to formally call me out on it. If they did, they would have to admit that there is a way to disrupt their recording devices. The damage that knowledge would do is much worse than anything I might be doing while they can’t observe me.” 

“You know, we have several days with nothing else to do,” you pointed out, watching the shadows cast by hyperspace form under Alpha’s raised eyebrow. “You could teach me how to make a disruptor of my own.” 

“I could,” Alpha agreed, in a leading tone that made you narrow your eyes at him. “But you’ll have to do something for me in return.” 

For a wild moment, you thought Alpha was going to say something lascivious. Admittedly, you were intrigued, but it would be tricky to avoid the pilots…

Then he said, “You have to show me civvie life on Coruscant.” 

The surprise made you blink at him, but you valiantly tried to recover. “Civilian life, really? I thought you weren’t interested.” 

“I don’t trust you to choose a holofilm anymore, but the rest of it?” Alpha shrugged. “You’re the expert. And you lived on Triple Zero for a while. I trust you to show me what I should see.” 

Possibilities raced through your mind. It had been a while since you were last on Coruscant, but it would be nice to show Alpha some of your favorite places… “Okay, that sounds like fun! It’s a deal.” 

Alpha nodded, but his eyes were fixed on yours with an intensity that made you nervous. “What did you think I was going to ask?” 

You felt your face heat and reflexively looked away. “Nothing.” 

That, of course, didn’t work. With a renewed interest sharpening his voice, Alpha leaned forward and pressed, “Didn’t seem like nothing. Seemed like you had something very specific in mind.” 

You shook your head, still refusing to look at him. “Nope, it was definitely nothing.” 

Alpha gave a skeptical hum, letting his thigh press more heavily against yours. “Too bad. Though you were gonna be brave. Tell me, me’copaani?” 

Alpha must have influenced you more than you thought. Being lightly accused of cowardice put you on-edge, and then the soft entreaty to tell him what you wanted? You couldn’t help but respond. 

You rested your hand on Alpha’s thigh in a way that could have been casual, if it weren’t so high up toward the juncture of his legs. He gave a low groan. 

You met his eyes and lifted a brow, your lips curving into a playful smile. “Maybe it’ll be another fun civvie thing to show you once we get to Coruscant.” 

Alpha’s spine stiffened slightly as you leaned into his lap to give him a kiss, but he returned it eagerly. When you pulled back, he tried to follow, stopping only when you turned your head away teasingly.

“Anytime,” he growled fervently. “Just tell me where and when. I’ll make it happen.” 

You laughed, giving his thigh a squeeze and a pat before you removed your hand. “For now, let’s just focus on those disruptors.” 

That work kept you busy over the next few days, especially since you could only work on it while the pilots were in the cockpit or the bunks. They didn’t spend much time in the common areas of the ship, but they emerged for food or to use the ‘freshers fairly often. Alpha had been right about their schedules, though, and avoiding them was easy enough. 

By the time you were warned to strap in for the descent into Coronet City, you had created an array of three disruptors. The largest one was for your room on Kamino, the second largest was for your office, and the smallest was for you to carry on your person. 

Alpha had been a remarkably patient teacher, but he had insisted that you learn how to do everything yourself. He hadn’t taken over, even when you were stuck on a step and frustrated about it. But he had taught you how to get past every problem and fix every mistake you made along the way. You had even made your last disruptor while Alpha was sleeping, as a way to test yourself. 

When Alpha had examined the finished product, he had announced that he was proud of you. He had also added that he would have you make disruptors for him in the future, but you mostly focused on the pride. 

The sight of the spires and lights of Coronet City made your stomach twist in a combination of nerves and excitement. The landing was steep, but smooth. Since both pilots were in the cockpit to assist with landing, you held Alpha’s hand during the whole process. You really weren’t scared of ships or flying, but you were starting to wonder if you were afraid of Coruscant itself. 

When you were safely on the ground, the pilots announced that you and Alpha could gather your belongings, but that they had to be the ones to release the locks on the doors. 

You had packed light, but Alpha’s bag was little more than a backpack. He was wearing full armor, with the exception of the helmet he carried beneath one arm. He had already explained that he could go to retrieve an extra body glove if necessary, and he needed very little else. Even so, he slung his pack over one shoulder and pulled your larger bag free before you could even reach for it. 

“Don’t leave the hangar yet,” one of the pilots said, pausing on his way off of the ship. “Commander Fox needs a word with you both.” 

You managed to wait until he had left before you turned to Alpha, alarmed. “Fox? The commander of the Coruscant Guard needs to speak with us?” 

Alpha’s brows quirked. “How do you know that Fox is the head of the Corrie Guard?” 

“I was a Senatorial aide,” you reminded. “Some of the Senators had to have security escorts if they were threatened. I only met Commander Fox once, but I’ve worked with the Coruscant Guard quite a bit.” 

Alpha nodded slowly. “Good man, Fox. I’m not sure what he needs from us, but I trust him.” 

That was high praise, coming from Alpha, but your shoulders were still tight with tension as you followed him off the ship. You relaxed when you caught sight of the commander. Fox looked vaguely irritated, and you could see why - Nora was standing beside him with an impish look on her face. 

“Nora!” you greeted. 

The lawyer beamed, stepping forward with her arms already open for a hug. You stepped into them gratefully, happy for the familiarity of someone you already knew. 

“It’s so great to see you in person!” Nora gushed when you pulled back. “And Alpha, of course! He’s a big guy.” 

The last part had been delivered in a whisper, and you nodded emphatically. Sometimes, it was easy to forget how much larger Alpha was than the standard clone troopers, but the difference was especially striking when he was standing next to Commander Fox. 

Fox wasn’t a small man, himself. He was the same height as all of the other troopers, with a sturdy build that spoke of hours spent working on his strength. Fox had always exuded an air of competence, and the sense of authority he carried was noticeable enough to make even hardened criminals think twice about testing him. 

“Fox,” Alpha greeted simply, jerking his chin in recognition. 

“Alpha,” Fox returned. He glanced over and, seeing that you were looking back at him, greeted you by name as well. “I don’t know if you remember, but we met a while ago.” 

“I definitely remember,” you agreed, half-laughing at the idea of forgetting a meeting with Commander Fox. “It’s been a while, though. I’m surprised you remember.” 

Fox’s lips twisted into a wry grin. “I had a vague memory of you, but we’ve gotten more than a few shinies from Kamino since you started working there. They have plenty to say.” 

Your spine straightened reflexively, not sure whether or not that was a good thing.

“The pilot said you needed something from us,” Alpha said, subtly redirecting the conversation. “What is it?” 

Fox nodded slowly. “I thought it would be a good idea to let you both know the expectations for your time here. I’m not sure what she’s doing here.” 

Nora met his sidelong glance with a broad smile. “I heard that Commander Fox would be debriefing you both, so I decided to come along in case there are any questions or information that your counsel should be aware of.” 

“Again, this isn’t a debriefing,” Fox said, sounding tired. “Second, you aren’t their counsel for this trial. They don’t need counsel since neither of them are defendants.” 

“Well, I’m already here,” Nora said bracingly, shooting you a wink when Fox turned away to roll his eyes. 

“Captain, you’ll be staying in the GAR barracks,” Fox started at last. “Since court isn’t in session until tomorrow morning, you have some meetings scheduled for this afternoon. I’ll escort you to them personally. Advisor, the Senate has reserved a hotel room for you near the courthouse. They will update the reservation as needed for your testimony. I’ll transmit the details to your comlink.” 

He glanced back and forth between you and Alpha. “You are both expected to be in the courtroom at nine tomorrow morning. I cannot stress enough that you do not need legal representation.” 

“They’ve already tried to pin this osik on her once, Fox,” Alpha reminded lowly, tilting his head at you so Fox couldn’t possibly misunderstand. “I don’t trust that they won’t do it again.” 

“Much as I hate to agree with the commander,” Nora interjected. “I have to say that Fox has a point. If you come in with obvious legal protection, it could make you a target if their charges against Brid don’t stick.” 

“Could you just be… around?” you asked. 

Nora shook her head regretfully. “The proceedings are closed to the public since the trial is an internal Senate and GAR affair. I will give you some pointers about questions you should and should not answer, though. We’ll go out for dinner tonight, the three of us. After Alpha’s meetings, of course. Unless you’d like to come along, Fox?” 

Fox gave her a dry look, but didn’t offer any other response. Instead, he said, “The captain’s scheduled meetings will run fairly late in the evening.” 

“Oh, no…” Nora lamented, grinning all the while. “However will we find a Coruscanti restaurant that’s open after sunset?” 

Fox shook his head and looked back at you and Alpha. “Nine tomorrow morning. Alpha, let’s go.” 

Alpha’s eyes were on you and he stepped closer in an effort to speak more privately. Nora cleared her throat and hastily engaged Fox in conversation - and you were fascinated to see that he went along with it. 

“I’ll see you tonight, neverd’ika,” he promised. “Go get settled in the room and I’ll meet up with you and Nora as soon as these meetings are finished.” 

“Are you sure they’ll let you leave?” you asked. “Sounds like they’re trying to keep you occupied.” 

Alpha’s grin held an edge of violence. “They can try all they like. I’m an expert at keeping meetings brief. One way or another.” 

“Okay,” you agreed. “Be…” 

You trailed off. ‘Be safe’ seemed nonsensical. Alpha was going to the GAR headquarters. He would be surrounded by his brothers, many of whom he had worked with in the past or personally trained. Arguably, Alpha would be safer there than anywhere else, but you still fought not to tell him to be safe. 

Alpha seemed to understand. He rested his hand briefly on your shoulder. “You too, little one.” 

The warmth and solid weight of his touch stayed with you long after he had left with Commander Fox. 

You did as Alpha suggested, checking into the hotel room. It was… fine. Nothing fancy, but it was clean and quiet, near enough to the courthouse that you could easily walk there when it was time. You unpacked your outfit for the next day, hanging it up to avoid any creases. You were back on Coruscant, which meant that appearances were everything. 

You found enough to keep yourself occupied for almost an hour. But when your toiletries were arranged and your personal datapad was charging on the bedside table, the room started to feel… wrong. It was too small, and dark, and cluttered. It was hard to to breathe. 

Minutes later, you had gathered your wallet, comlink, and room key. A walk through the city was exactly what you needed to keep your mind off of the stress. 

You set a course through a familiar section of the city, waiting to feel the peaceful sensation of homecoming that had been lacking up to that point. In a perfect world, you would have commed some of your Senatorial aide friends to meet up. But the last you had heard, most of them had left Coruscant. Some had moved on to new jobs while others were part of personal staff for Senators. Since it was currently outside of the Senate’s season, they would only meet up on Coruscant if there was an emergency motion. For the moment, the Senators and their staff were on home planets and estates, or traveling reelection circuits.

It was startling to realize that you didn’t know many people on Coruscant anymore. It was even stranger to realize that you hadn’t lived on Coruscant for well over a year. 

The second realization became more and more apparent as you wandered through Coruscant. When you had left, the discussions of bringing in a clone guard force to augment the Coruscant Security Force had been raging, and there hadn’t been any sign of a consensus. To the displeasure of the CSF - and its union - Chancellor Palpatine had overridden the objections and pushed through a clone regiment. Now, the red-armored Coruscant Guard seemed to be everywhere you looked.

The war had taken its toll on the city in other ways. Every advertisement board switched between ads and governmental PSAs. Announcements about rationing and decreased utilities blared from assorted street corners. Graffiti splashed the walls - usually anti-war or anti-Republic, but you saw a few anti-trooper tags. 

Public services had clearly taken a hit with the budget constraints of waging a war. Every drinking fountain you passed was broken, street lights were out more often than not, and the duracrete sidewalks were starting to crack and crumble along the more popular streets. 

Most notably, plenty of businesses were closed. Some of the places you had loved when you lived on Coruscant were shuttered, a few of the doors bearing announcements that they hadn’t been able to compete in the wartime economy. One of your favorite restaurants had closed and your heart panged. You had planned to take Alpha there during your time on-planet.

Your already-low mood plummeted and you morosely turned back toward the hotel. 

With your inevitable expulsion from Kamino coming up as soon as you submitted the report, you had wanted this trip to be more than it was. You hadn’t realized it at the time, but you had pinned your hopes on Coruscant feeling like home, and using that feeling to bolster yourself about the possibility of returning to a life of semi-normalcy. 

Instead, it was growing more and more apparent that Kamino wasn’t allowed to be your home and that Coruscant no longer felt like the exciting surroundings they once had. Nothing was going as planned, and that made you feel irritable and off-balance. 

And since you were already thinking of unplanned things, it seemed entirely fitting that you didn’t recognize where you were. A combination of closed businesses, changed facades, and partially closed walkways made even the most familiar of streets seem utterly strange to you. 

You swore softly and tucked yourself off to the side, leaning against the railings to avoid passersby while minimizing how much Coruscant grime came away on your clothing. You might be able to find a comlink-accessible map, assuming that the frequencies hadn’t changed…

The sound of your name called in a familiar voice made you turn. When you glanced behind yourself, there was a tall, broad figure cutting easily through the crowd. You smiled. “Alph-”

You cut yourself off, frowning at the approaching trooper. His armor was red, and he made no move to take off his helmet as he stared down at you. More importantly, there was something about his bearing, the way he moved… 

This wasn't Alpha. 

At last, the trooper repeated your name and you nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry, have we met?” 

“I’m here on my brother’s behalf.” 

That didn’t directly answer any of your questions, but there was a suspicion forming in the back of your mind. You had never seen another trooper who could compete with Alpha's height and build, but this unfamiliar armored man was an exact match.

You tilted your head at him, studying the blank visor of his helmet as if you could see his eyes behind it. “You're another Alpha-class trooper, aren't you?” 

He touched his gauntleted hand to his visor, giving a short nod. “Alpha-26, ma'am.”

“Do you have a name, or do you prefer Alpha-26?” You did your best to ask the question without any inflection that could be misconstrued as derision, but you really hoped that he had a name. Preferably not ‘Alpha’, either. That would simply be too strange.

He watched you for a moment, visor unmoving. You did your best not to fidget under the pressure of his hidden gaze. At last, he said, “Maze.” 

“Maze,” you repeated with a smile. “It's nice to meet you.” 

He tilted his head in acknowledgement, but gestured for you to start walking. “Let’s get you out of here.” 

“Is everything okay?” you asked, already hurrying in the direction he had indicated.

Maze was a solid presence behind you. He followed a little further than Alpha usually did, but the similarities were uncanny. “You’re getting ready to testify in a Republic case, possibly linking to Separatist conspiracy. Wandering around in the depths of the city isn’t a smart idea.” 

The idea seemed laughable at first. After all, you were still on the surface of the planet. Things didn’t usually get dangerous above level seventy or so. But you remembered how the Separatists had planted detonators in the Coruscant power grid. You had been on Kamino when it happened, but the news had rocked the galaxy. Coruscant hadn’t been successfully attacked in over a thousand years.

Maybe you weren’t as safe in the city as you had wanted to think. 

You walked a little faster. “Did Alpha send you?” 

“He mentioned that you were here,” Maze said vaguely. “He was kaden because they have him in di’kutla meetings for the whole day.” 

“Yeah, Commander Fox said someone had made sure he had a full schedule.” You glanced around when you got to the next intersection. “Where are we going?”

“Up to you,” Maze said. “But wherever we go, we need to take the long way. I need to check for tails before we get anywhere important.” 

“Is that necessary?” you asked, fidgeting uncomfortably with your wrist comlink. 

Maze alternated between walking beside you and behind you. Since he was currently beside you, you could clearly see his nod. “There’s a humanoid following you. Has been for the last half-hour. I want to check it out before you return to your lodging.”

It was idiotic to glance behind yourself, but you tried until Maze physically blocked your way. In a dry tone of voice you had only heard from Alpha before, he said, “The idea is not to tip anyone off that you see ‘em.”

“Sorry,” you apologized reflexively. “Instinct, I guess.”

Maze hummed noncommittally. “How did you know I was an Alpha-class trooper?” 

It was your turn to answer in a dry tone. “Just a feeling.” 

From the tilt of Maze’s visor in your direction, he wasn’t impressed.

You waved a hand. “Alpha is the only trooper I’ve ever met who is so much larger than the average. I know he’s not the only Alpha-class trooper, so it was pretty easy to guess.” 

Maze was quiet beside you. You had honestly assumed that his attention was on whoever was following you, until he said, “A civvie with critical thinking skills? Wish there were more like you.” 

“That was… almost a kind thing to say,” you replied. 

He shook his head. “Kindness isn’t really what I’m known for. The same used to go for Alpha, but looking at you… apparently, that has changed.”

The idea of anyone but you calling Alpha ‘kind’ was too funny. Maze shushed your laughter. With a stern look, he warned, “You’ll draw attention.”

“If someone is tailing me, I think I already have their attention,” you countered. 

Maze’s sigh reminded you so strongly of Alpha that you laughed again. 

“Doesn’t matter. I was trying to get him close enough to get a good scan of him, but if he gets a look at me, he’s more likely to hang back and blend into the crowd.” Anything you had planned to say in your own defense was cut short when Maze straightened, pushing you onward as he disappeared into the swarm of people surrounding you. “Keep moving. I’ll find him and catch up.” 

Even with his considerable height and the breadth of his shoulders, Maze disappeared into the crowd within seconds. You caught the eye of several curious onlookers, but they lost interest when you just offered them a bewildered shrug. 

You kept going in the vague direction of your hotel, walking alone for long enough that you started to wonder whether Maze had been injured. For a moment, you hesitated, ready to turn back, but a gruff-sounding sigh at your side made you think better of it. 

“Keep walking, civvie,” Maze ordered. 

You did, aiming a curious glance in his direction. In answer to your unspoken question, Maze lifted one armored shoulder. “We’re all good. It was one of Obrim’s boys. Apparently, you’ve been labeled a flight risk.” 

“Obrim?” you repeated. “A flight risk? They think I would run?” 

“Apparently.” Maze seemed unconcerned. “But if it makes you feel better, Seventeen is marked down as the one they would send to retrieve you. So whatever you’ve got going on, you’re keeping it reasonably ranov’la.”

While you were happy that Maze thought you and Alpha were being subtle, you weren’t entirely sure that Alpha would want his brother knowing about his personal life. He could be strange about things like that, and you didn’t officially know how Alpha felt about Maze. 

“Alpha's a great friend,” you said carefully, “but he's a loyal Republic soldier. I'm sure he could find me easily if I decided to do something as foolish as running.”

Maze gave you a look that strongly implied you were losing grip on reality, but he just snorted instead of actually saying anything. 

“Did he send you?” you asked at last. “How did he know I had left the room?” 

“Comlink,” Maze said succinctly. “But Seventeen didn't send me.” 

A sense of foreboding tightened your stomach. “Oh.” 

“I've heard about you,” Maze said, after giving you a minute or two to scan for possible escape routes. “Not from Alpha, but others. Vode who came from Kamino. You're important to him. So you're important to me. I got your comm frequency from one of them.”

“Really?” you asked, forcing yourself to relax as you feigned curiosity. “Who was it?” 

Maze snorted. “Trying to check whether I am who I say I am? Clever civvie. Seventeen didn’t send me. He didn’t have to. He mentioned that you were wandering around the city while he can’t be nearby to keep an eye on things. Seventeen doesn’t do small talk. He mentioned it because he was worried about you. So I came to find you.” 

That made a lot more sense, and your wariness faded. Maze eyed you, shouldering through a group of beings who were blocking the pathway and keeping you falling victim to their disturbed centers of balance. 

“Still don’t trust me?” he asked after you had made it through the crowd. 

“It’s not that I don’t trust you-” you argued.

“But you don’t,” Maze finished, nodding like he had made some kind of decision. “Hold.” 

You were trying to figure out whether to offended by being given a single-word command like a trained massiff while Maze typed a message into his comlink. You had decided to overlook it just as he lowered his arm to his side and watched you expectantly. 

A moment later, your own comlink chimed. When you checked it, you had a message from Alpha: 

I see Maze found you. He’s a di’kut, but he’s not dangerous. You’re in good hands.

You chuckled at that as you glanced back up at Maze. “Fair enough. You’ve been vetted.” 

“What a relief,” Maze said, tone dry. “Let’s get you back to your hotel.” 

A nearby chronometer caught your eye. “I’m supposed to meet Alpha for dinner. Is that something that is still happening, or will his meetings take the rest of the night?” 

“They’ll keep him busy for a while longer,” Maze explained. “But if you don’t want to go back to the hotel, we can go to the GAR headquarters. Alpha can meet you after he’s done.” 

“The GAR headquarters?” you asked, perking up a bit. “Can I take a look around while I wait?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

You must have looked disappointed, because Maze sighed. “Not without an escort. And I suppose I’m not doing anything important right now.” 

The GAR headquarters were dull at first. Everything was painted in varying shades of tan and gray, laid out in a grid pattern that left you both bored and utterly dependent on Maze to lead you through the labyrinth. 

But when you actually paid attention to your surroundings, you found that they were far more fascinating than you had believed at first. Beside every door was a neat little label explaining what you could find inside, and you had read through enough GAR documents to understand the enormity of the operations that were housed in the unassuming building. People you passed in the halls ran the gamut from shiny trooper to famous general, all of them greeting Maze with a salute or a kind word, respectively. 

Maze wasn’t much of a conversationalist. You couldn’t bring yourself to be surprised by that, but it made the trip less of a tour and more of a fun experiment in keeping pace with someone whose legs were so much longer than yours. But he mentioned things here and there, and when you asked him a question about something you saw, he always knew the answer. He reminded you a little of Alpha. 

Then, when one trooper stopped to make conversation with you and got flirtatious, Maze reminded you strongly of Alpha. If that trooper ever spoke to another woman inside the GAR headquarters, you would be surprised. 

“That was a little harsh,” you remarked as the trooper rapidly disappeared from sight. 

“A little?” Maze repeated unhappily. “I’ll have to do better next time.” 

You didn’t actually see Alpha’s approach. You were watching a group of troopers approach from the opposite direction when you saw their eyes slide past you and widen. You turned, horrified that there was a general behind you, someone who would object to a civilian in GAR headquarters regardless of who was accompanying them, but when you turned, it was your boyfriend. 

“Alpha,” you greeted happily. “I was starting to worry that they were never going to let you leave.” 

“They did their best,” he agreed, looking irritated.

Maze glanced down at his comlink. “That why there’s an announcement to keep lookout for you? What did you do - walk out?” 

“Yeah.” 

You gaped while Maze gave an appreciative chuckle. “Good on you - they’d have kept you all night, otherwise.” 

“Aren’t you going to get in trouble for that?” you asked. 

Alpha’s mouth stayed pressed into a grim line, but the corners of his eyes crinkled the way they always did when he was trying not to smile at you too obviously. “I can handle it.”

Maze scoffed. “You two are disgusting. Get out of here before I report a sighting of you.”

Alpha nodded, but stepped close to Maze before they could split too far apart. Alpha spoke lowly in Mando’a, far too quickly for you to keep up. But he clapped Maze on the shoulder when he was done, so you assumed it wasn’t anything too negative. Maze gave him a shallow nod in return. 

Before he could completely turn away, you called, “It was nice to meet you, Maze. Thank you for showing me around.” 

Maze froze, glancing back at you for a long moment. Then he offered you a nod, too, and left.

You smiled up at Alpha. “Ready to go? I can comm Nora about where we’re going, but I’ll need you to lead me out of here. I have no idea where the exit is.” 

Alpha chuckled lowly. “Follow me, neverd’ika.”

—

Nora had chosen a lovely restaurant for the three of you. 

It was small, especially by Coruscant standards. There couldn’t have been more than a dozen tables in the building, but the atmosphere managed to be cozy and intimate rather than cramped. The effect was helped by plentifull windows that displayed the lights of Coruscant’s cityscape to best advantage. Inside, small lights hanging from the ceiling mirrored the lights outside, giving the impression that the city extended even into the restaurant itself. 

You weren’t shocked when the owner came out to speak with Nora personally, greeting her by name. 

You were shocked by the amount on the bill. It was going to take a substantial chunk of your savings to cover the meals that you and Alpha had enjoyed, but you valiantly grabbed the check anyway. 

Nora snatched it from your hand in an instant. “Oh, no. I chose the restaurant. This is my treat.” 

“I can’t let you do that,” you argued. Alpha watched the discussion with an inscrutable look in his eyes. “It’s too much-”

“If you think that’s too much, you should have seen how much I charged the owner of this place to get out of their legal troubles,” Nora informed you with a smirk. “I think he overcharges me in revenge, but the food is so good that I come back anyway.”

When you left the restaurant, Alpha said goodbye. You stared up at him, dismayed, but he shrugged and explained, “I was given strict orders to stay at the GAR barracks tonight, and I would never disobey a superior officer.” 

Nora snorted, but Alpha looked sincere. You may have even believed him if he hadn’t snuck a wink in your direction and tapped his comlink. 

As Alpha’s hovercab disappeared among the swarming traffic of the Coruscanti skies, your comlink chimed lightly. 

I have to check in at the barracks, then I’ll be at the hotel. ETA one hour.

You didn’t even realize that you were smiling until Nora cleared her throat lightly. “So,” she asked leadingly, “how long have you and Alpha been dating each other?” 

Stars, how did this keep happening to you? And why did it always come up when Alpha wasn’t around? 

“I’m- We’re not-” 

If Nora’s eyebrows arched any higher, they would levitate from her head. “Please. Anyone who has seen the two of you in the same space knows better than that. And, honestly? If you weren’t dating, you would be the biggest idiots in the galaxy. It’s obvious that you both care about each other.” 

You sighed. “Are you going to tell me it’s a terrible idea?” 

“Why would it be?” Nora’s tone was genuinely curious, which lowered your hackles a bit.

“Well, he’s a trooper, permanently stationed on Kamino and I…” You shrugged. “The process of writing that report isn’t going to last forever. I’ll have to leave Kamino eventually, then we’ll never see each other.” 

“I mean, would leaving Kamino be the worst?” Nora asked gently. “I would think you’d be a little happy to come back home.” 

You rubbed the back of your neck. “Is it strange that this doesn’t feel like home anymore? I’ve been gone so long and so much has changed…” 

“That makes sense,” Nora agreed. “Would you stay there if it was an option?”

“In a heartbeat.” You laughed ruefully. “But I haven’t exactly made friends with the Kaminoans. At this point, I’ll be lucky if they don’t permanently ban other Republic officials from the planet.” 

Nora gave a thoughtful sort of hum. “What if you could stay?” 

The simple question sent a wild wave of hope through your chest. “What do you mean?”

“Did you know that parts of your report have spread outside of the Senate?” she asked instead of giving a direct answer. 

“My- It has?” You shook your head, befuddled. “I can’t imagine who would be interested in reading it outside of the Senate. It’s a little… dry.” 

“I agree,” Nora admitted, “but certain parties would beg to differ. Including a group I work with often, Sentient Rights.” 

Your heart was racing. 

“They think you’re doing important work on Kamino,” Nora continued without prodding. “When you’re finished with your report, they want to make sure you stay on Kamino, to prevent any sentient rights violations. What do you think?” 

You hesitated. “Why did you wait until Alpha was gone to bring this up?” 

Nora smiled, shaking her head. “The last thing I want to do is pressure you to stay somewhere you don’t want to be, even if the company makes it tolerable. If Alpha was here when you answered, I’d never know for sure whether you really wanted to stay on Kamino or if you just didn’t want to hurt his feelings.”

“Fair enough.” You thought about the resignation on Riptide’s face and the corresponding helplessness on Colt’s. You thought about the horror and devastation in the voices of Riptide’s squadmates, then about the way Alpha described reconditioning. You gave Nora a firm nod. “Give me their frequency. I’d love to talk with them.” 

“I had a feeling you would,” Nora said with a smile. “Just like I have a feeling that a certain captain will be very unhappy if you’re late to meet him at your hotel room. Have a good night and we’ll talk after the trial.” 

You agreed, thanking Nora for dinner before calling a hovercab. You were still worried about the trial, but the day had given you plenty else to think about.

---

Author's Note - This is the chapter that Tried Not To Be. It was a struggle to write, and I've been trying to post it for three weeks now. Then tumblr and AO3 both tried to get cute when I finally had a chance to work on it. Anyway, sorry for the wait. Hopefully this monstrous chapter was worth it!

If any Legends fans have opinions about how I did with Maze, please feel free to let me know! I tried not to make him an exact copy of Alpha, but I see them as being very similar.

Thanks for reading! The next chapter is still planned to come out at the end of this month, so I'll see you soon!

[klanceflavoredgatorade]

Klangst fic

fair warning I have very little writing experience

this is based off of “Rose’s Turn”

Hope you enjoy!

All that work and what did it get me?

Lance could feel the heat, the anger, rising in his chest.

Why did I do it?

He gave everything to this team. To this coalition. And what had they done in return?

Scrapbooks full of me in the background

They had let the one thing he had die. Keith was gone, and none of them had even tried to save him.

Give them love and what does it get you? What does it get you?

He loved his team. He really, truly, thought he did. But they had made their minds up the moment they turned around, leaving Keith trapped in the Galran ship they had doomed to explode.

One quick look as each of them leaves you.

Lance walked with more purposefully than he ever had. He knew what he had to do. His rage was rising, coming to a boiling point that no one could stop before it spilled over.

All your life and what does it get you? What does it get you?

Keith had lost his youth to them. To these aliens who didn’t even appreciate his efforts. Now he had lost his life, and they still couldn’t give some semblance of remorse?

“Thanks a lot” and out with the garbage

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

They take bows, and you’re battin’ zero

They would feel remorse. But it was already much too late.

The rest of the team was so high and mighty, weren’t they? Always so much better, so much more mature than he or Keith could be. How tragic, Lance thought, that those things couldn’t save them now. Nothing would.

I had a dream

Lance had wanted this once. He wanted to come to space, to be a pilot.

I dreamed it for you, Shiro

And who had inspired him, but his dear leader. He still remembered seeing Shiro’s face on TV for the first time when he was younger.

It wasn’t for me, Shiro

Would Lance be here, if it wasn’t for that television broadcast? Was all of this a misguided pipe-dream?

And if it wasn’t for me, then where would you be-Team Voltron?

Without him, without Keith, there would be no Voltron. The others were ungrateful. Unappreciative on the sacrifices they made, focusing only on themselves.

Well, someone tell me when is it my turn?

It ended today. They didn’t matter now. They never had, not next to Keith. Lance would get what he wanted this time. And he wanted them gone.

Don’t I get a dream for myself?

He didn’t need to be a paladin anymore. He didn’t need to worry about them. All he had to do was be patient, get their quintessence, and bring back what really mattered.

Starting now it’s gonna be my turn.

As he reached the ship’s core, he almost could’ve laughed. They really were getting a taste of their own medicine! They could die on a burning ship, just as Keith had!

Gangway world, get off of my runway!

As dumb as he acted, Lance was smart. He knew that once the others were gone, their quintessence would end up in the lions. From there, he would take it and use it to restore Keith. He would be remade- brought back just as he had been.

Starting now I bat a thousand

The bomb wasn’t hard to plant. Not enough to entirely destroy the ship -Lance still might need some of the supplies- but enough that the other paladins would come running.

This time, boys, I’m taking the bows- and

Their clambering about the room would set off the other bombs, and that would be the end of it. Lance would get what he wanted.

Everything’s coming up Lance

He set the final wires into place and worked the timer.

Everything’s coming up McClain

He hoped Keith would understand. Of course he would, right? 

Everything’s coming up Lance, this time for me

As the timer ticked down, Lance smiled. Yes, Keith would understand. This was just the beginning of their story. He made his way to his escape pod, laughing harder than he ever thought he could.

For me

5

For me!

4

For me!

3

For me!

2

For me!

1

FOR ME!

Boom.

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Hey so you know how you made Dick speak sanskrit in your fic? lives in my head rent free.

Why did he not speak romanian. how far back in the historical timeline was his clan(??? idk how to translate the word im thinking of into english but its “ନକ୍ଷ୍ୟତ୍ର”/ “ଗୋତ୍ର”) separated from the rest? How was it not prakrit? Were his parents just trying to reconnect to their roots? Did he learn it from his parents or was it learned while trying to connect with his roots? Does he ever realise that any songs and texts are all religious? Is HE religious with how many words in sanskrit straight up reference god?Does he feel alienated with how his culture is romani but his language is indian? Does he ever realise theres only one village in the world that speaks sanskrit as a native language and its over 13,000 km away? Does it get lonely realising that even damian’s knowledge of languages cant cover it?

Im sorry for ranting but my struggle to reconnect w my culture has me projecting HARD 😭

OH BOY- I have been avoiding some asks (because I haven't had the mental strength to give each the time and love response they deserves I swear im getting to yall) But THIS one was just far too good to pass (and im bored as hell in class)

I would say I do dive a little more into my headcanon culture stuff involving Dick and even Damien in Mama Bird (which again I REALLY NEED TO UPDATE)

BUT Let the rambling begin <33

Why does he speak Sanskrit in the fic vs any other language? Simply it was the closest language I could trace similar roots to Romani ancestery too that was easily acsessible dictionary/translator that I could use in my writings.

Canonically he probably WOULD speak a dilect of Romani or Prakrit etc, but in my desperate trying to look into the language and culture half of the resources I came upon were incredibly racist even for someone who had no idea about the culture before then.

How far back in the historical timeline was his clan??? (Clan/Tribe/Family are good english translation's) Im not familiar enough with Romanian clans to assign a specific one (Though from my understanding of research, The Grayson family would be desenced from Romani people lineages that used to reside in the Indus Valley region- yet another reason for the use of Sanskrit)

Were his parents just trying to reconnect to their roots? Did he learn it from his parents or was it learned while trying to connect with his roots? I havent thought into this TOO much, but i'll say as a headcanon that his family felt a great pride in their culture as some of the lucky few who could maintain their nomadic lifestyle with the circus. His Mother was probably less connected (only knowing from her grandparents sort of thing) and rediscovered her roots after meeting his Father who was VERY in tune with his culture.

And as such tried their best to reclaim those roots and share them with Dick. So yes he learned from his parents- but they were still fully connecting themselves.

Does he ever realise that any songs and texts are all religious? Is HE religious with how many words in sanskrit straight up reference god? This is more projection but as someone who grew up in the bible belt, (Translation- American southern region nicknamed "The bible belt" because of how ingrained the Christian Faith is in both religious practice and general culture) Dick is less belief religious and more culturally religious- he will use religious phrasing, have some habits/beliefs FROM religious background without being fully invested, and even some things he doesn't realize are heavily religious until pointed out.

Aka religious pratices in the way of how your mother would teach you to put knifes in the dishwasher upside down (so they wouldnt be as much of a hazard) but something you do because its how you were told instead of thinking about the WHY as much.

Does he feel alienated with how his culture is romani but his language is indian? Does he ever realise theres only one village in the world that speaks sanskrit as a native language and its over 13,000 km away?

Now this is more complicated, I don't know much about circus life (though I do actually have a friend I can ask so might change this later) But from what I know its a VERY mixed enviornment so Dick was both entrenched in his cultural lifestyle as a nomad with his parents proudly sharing their roots, while also being exposed to dozens of other cultures that were also "his".

Aka- Dick is an amalgamation of culture to the point he both belongs in more ways than most people could ever have, and yet feels completely isolated as a result since no one else understands why he gets upset when people wish him Happy Birthday early, why he always dumps the first steep of tea, why he "pays respects" to his bike and tools, why he sets aside food just to be thrown out, etc etc

Its nice, to be able to connect with people over so much, but at the same time it sucks when his family points out "weird habits" that he hadnt even realized were strange. (Thankfully after a few long talks, people stopped commenting on Dicks habits, anyone who does faces the wrath of the Batclan and just about every Hero from Metropolis to the edge of the Milky way)

Does it get lonely realising that even damian’s knowledge of languages cant cover it?

Actually Batfam DOES know some Sanskrit just by exposure of living with Dick. The one who knows the most is probably Alfred since he was the one dealing with the rambunctious kid who would get frustrated with instructions he didnt understand (and that frustration only getting worse for English being like 5th or so language)

None of them are anywhere near fluent though, but I like to think Dick has a pen pal/friends he practices with. Also because he's terrified of losing his proficency and in turn, losing another part of his culture his parents tried so hard to give to him.

And No need to apologize! Like I said, im an outsider looking in from a very different culture but I loved reading (what little good sources I could find) about this topic. Of course if you have any insights/comments/crituqes I would love to hear about them and thank you for the ask!!