#Cw excessive footnotes

[foone]

Now I'm just imagining an exhausted Star Fleet engineer who has to manage the holodecks and she keep getting called in to rescue two(sometimes more) clueless lesbians who just wanted to do some bdsm and now the safeties being off has caused them to nearly get themselves killed.

And if course, there's safeties on the safeties, so they hacked around the switch, which means now she can't remotely turn the safeties back on, or cancel the program.

She's gotta go in there herself and free them.

She's shot Dr. Chaotica twice this week alone.

She's always freeing deeply thankful women who try to cover her in kisses but she's gotta get back to doing a level 2 diagnostic on the plasma manifold.

She's like "look, girls: stop doing this. I'm not gonna report you to security this time, but you could get killed. Here's a PADD on how to modify a program so it doesn't consider most BDSM activities to be harm. Then you can get tied up and spanked all you want without the risk of holograms trying to kill you for real. "

A few days later, the captain beeps* her and asks if she's done with retrofitting the alien artifact to work with their engines. "almost done, Captain. I would have been done an hour ago but I got called away to fight a spider."

There's a pause, then that quick and curt "Explain."

"there was a holodeck malfunction and I had to go in and rescue two poor Ensigns from Shelob**."

"ahh. Another 'safeties failure'?"

"You got it, Captain. Fortunately, even 5 meter arachnids can be scared off by a little fire."

"how much 'little' are we talking?"

"... A slightly modified M9A1-7 flamethrower with an internal replicator and antihydrogen generator for effectively infinite fuel"

"I see. Well, I'm sure" (she can hear the facepalm through the comm link) "that you'll impress upon them the seriousness of holodeck malfunctions, and remind them that tampering with the safeties is against regulations and they could be seriously punished if they ever engage in it." (the word "again" is diplomatically omitted).

"Honestly captain, threatening them with 'serious punishment' is unlikely to help. But yes, I'll be sure to give them a good talking to."

"Indeed. Let me know when you have the artifact integrated. Captain*** out".

* what is the verb for when they tap their comm badge and go like "Captain to Tuvok: what's the situation in the engine room?". Comming? Badging?

** they were playing LOTR with them as (genderswapped**** Frodo and Sam. Lots of middle-earth kink you can get up to in that program, especially if you apply that patch that makes the armies of Sauron merely capture and torture***** you for information. Unfortunately Shelob is not marked as a minion of Sauron, so... She's not affected, and will merely try to kill you. With the safeties off, she might.

*** I know exactly who this captain and engineer are, but explaining that AU would take longer than the rest of the post. There's transitions, a throuple, characters moving from one show to another... It's a mess!

**** the default way the holodeck works is to just not care about genders of the players. Like you could tell it to load up a Sherlock Holmes program and if you walk in wearing a dress and go "I'm Sherlock", the most difference that'll happen is Watson might go "I say, that dress looks lovely on you, Sherlock!" and the story continues as usual.

***** in the BDSM sense, of course. The patch makes it seem like the Uruk-hai had a real thing for shibari, forced orgasms, and qamDu' (an Klingon fetish that's strickly forbidden on all Federation ships)

a yuri scenario…..

[coramatus]

there were no instructions or fine print (part 4)

“To restore the lost, find my form and sacrifice yours”

Or

That time Ingo got turned into a Sneasel because there were no instructions or fine print on the ancient mystical artifact

Based on ideas of the Transfer Error AU by @rosebloodcat on Tumblr

cw: abundance of footnotes

part one | two | three | four

mourning

When Emmet wakes up the next morning, he’s struck by the feeling of a warm, rumbling weight on his chest. For a brief moment, he thinks a Joltik got loose and settled on him as a bed. But then he realizes it's pressing down on him too much for it to be a Joltik.

He lifts his head and discovers a furry, purple Sneasel has chosen to curl up and fall asleep on him. To his sleepy delight, it’s purring.

Then the sobering truth of the Sneasel slams into him like a runaway freight train.

Tears well up in his eyes as he holds back a wet sniff, afraid to disturb his brother’s sleep.

Ingo.

His brother.

He’s home.

But such a cruel way to return…

At the start, Emmet didn’t think much of the situation. To him, he was just dealing with a very odd-looking wild Sneasel in dire need of medical care.

He knew the poachers he’d fought off would not be deterred for long if the unique appearance of the Pokémon was any indication. So he chose a private clinic rather than a public Pokécenter, one that catered to top-level trainers and offered excellent security against any would-be thieves. It was one he and Ingo had occasionally used, particularly during the height of the Team Plasma threats. He trusted that they’d keep things quiet.

As expected, the clinic was very professional, immediately triaging the Sneasel for treatment. He was more than happy to pay for everything it needed to recover. Which included body scans, bloodwork, and a basic DNA screening, particularly helpful in finding out if its curious coloration indicated anything out of the ordinary.

His plan was to release it somewhere much safer for it once it healed. Perhaps a sanctuary in another region to really trip-up any stubborn poachers. It would be for the best as he never intended on keeping the Sneasel.

Then came the test results.

The first surprise was that its genetics indicated it belonged to an extinct subspecies of Sinnohan Sneasel, a poison/fighting variant, one thought to have died out from excessive predation. This was even more surprising considering how Unova was about as far from Sinnoh as they came.

But then came the second surprise: a one-two punch that floored him.

The samples had human DNA mixed in.

Ingo’s human DNA.

Emmet could barely hear the doctor’s explanation* over his racing thoughts. He was too stuck on the fact that it was supposed to be Ingo.

The first sign in years that his twin brother wasn’t just a skeleton somewhere buried six-feet under. Or that he hadn’t just gotten fed up and left, no explanation, no warning, nothing. Or that he hadn’t found some better life on the other side of the planet without his weirdo younger brother holding him back. Or that someone hadn’t kidnapped him for whatever reason without producing a ransom note. Or that he wasn’t stranded in some alien dimension left to fend for himself. Or just too many stupid, absurd possibilities he refused to consider lest he lose more of his already delicate sanity.

(Why had Ingo disappeared? He’d gone down to the battle tracks to check on some electrical malfunctions. And poof. Gone. It made no sense.)

And it all just happened to be in the form of a Pokémon he only ran into because he’d been mildly curious about some scuttlebutt over a weird shiny.**

It was too insane to believe at first. He’d even said as much. Threatened them with a snarling smile that if they were fucking with him, he was going to punch their teeth out.

Hell, even the doctors agreed they would deserve it.

But each time the test was run, the same results came back. The chances that the human sequence could have belonged to someone other than Ingo was several billion to one. Emmet suggested that perhaps his own DNA somehow got mixed in, they were identical twins after all. But no, they checked against his trainer file and the two of them were just different enough to eliminate Emmet as being a potential source.***

Which meant… their theory might be true.

(Why a Sneasel? Why an extinct variant? Why Ingo? Why do this? Why? Why?? Why???)

For the first time in a long time, Emmet finally dared to hope.

Only for it to be crushed as the other shoe dropped.

The doctors wouldn’t say it in as many words, but they warned him that they suspected Ingo…

…wasn’t there anymore.

Based on his own report of the incident, there was a possibility that Ingo’s altered form couldn’t accommodate a human mind. That his consciousness may have been lost, as sometimes… the new body simply rejected its former passenger.

Emmet felt his heart freeze.

Part of him wanted desperately to believe that Ingo was stronger than that. That he was still there, still buried somewhere under the instincts.

But… Ingo hadn’t recognized Emmet.

He spat and growled and fought him like a true wild Sneasel on the verge of death. Not once did he see any hint of recognition in those gray eyes. Just a frightened, hurt creature that wanted nothing to do with him.****

Ingo had finally been found, only for his mind to die from the strain of the transformation.

The universe was playing some kind of sick cosmic joke on him.

Emmet had cried in Elesa’s arms.

Of course it would have been too good to be true. His luck these last few years should have told him as much. He should have known he couldn’t just have his brother back in one piece. That he could never regain the peace and happiness of his old life. Could never feel comfortable in his own skin again when his reflection in black was but a shadow in his memory.

Part of him rails against this, that this can’t be the end. That there has to be something that can be done. Some way to save his brother.

But years of false leads and dead ends have tempered his hope. He’s been beaten down again and again until cynicism and simple brutal reality carved out his soul.

(Would the old Ingo even recognize him anymore…?)

Emmet tilts his head back against the couch cushions, squeezing his eyes shut as he wills himself to stop crying. His breath hitches as hot tears trail down his temples.

It’s not fair…

Ingo stirs with a sleepy rumble.

This time, Emmet can’t hold back his crying as he covers his eyes with a hand. A loud, gasping sob escapes him.

He can’t bring himself to look at Ingo.

He feels Ingo shift, gingerly scooting up his chest. The next thing Emmet knows, a cold wet nose is bumping into his exposed throat. And then Ingo is right there, nuzzling his face against the underside of Emmet’s chin. With a soft churr, he settles there, sleepily purring away.

Emmet stays frozen in place, his heart racing.

He desperately wants this to be a sign that Ingo is still there, still looking out for his little brother…

But he doesn’t know that.

With a shaking hand, Emmet gently strokes the back of Ingo’s head. He’s surprisingly soft, his fur plush and thick, not unlike a Minccino. It’s perfect for a species living in cold, harsh climates but lacking in the protective ice-typing usually needed to thrive.

The rumbling against his chest deepens at his touch, a tiny sigh of contentment escaping Ingo’s small form.

Emmet chuckles despite the tears choking his words, “You’re verrry sweet. That part hasn’t changed…”

Leaning forwards, he wraps his arms around Ingo to cradle him in a gentle hug, careful to avoid pressing his healing ribs. Ingo doesn’t protest the change in position, merely snuggling closer.

Closing his teary eyes, Emmet breathes, letting himself simply soak in this moment of peace.

It’s not much, but he’ll take it.

Ingo peeps a sleepy complaint when Emmet carefully lifts his soft form and lays him back in the blanket nest he’d made when he first took him out of the carrier. For good measure, he scratches behind Ingo’s ear feather, eliciting a happy purr as he melts into his touch.

Emmet smiles softly. This is far more than he had a week ago.

He checks the clock.

Five in the morning.

Normally he would be getting ready for work, but with everything that’s going on, he finally forced himself to cash out a few weeks worth of leave. Not that he’s worried about his job since the station has a dedicated staff to pick up his slack.

Right now, Ingo needs his help to recover, in whatever form that takes.

Rising to his feet, Emmet makes his way to the refrigerator, intent on seeing what he can use for Ingo’s first proper meal at home. However upon opening it, he’s given a sharp reminder that he’s barely been home since Ingo was found. All that meets his eyes are condiments, soda, and some questionable leftovers he forgot about. There hadn’t been time or thought that he would need to fill his fridge with perishables again. He’d been surviving off delivery and takeout as he waited at Ingo’s side.

Frowning, he moves on to check the pantry. There are plenty of dry goods, but it all needs time, energy, and ingredients he lacks to prepare. Otherwise, it’s mainly chock full of Pokémon food and a single hidden container of poffins.

This won’t do.

Fortunately, the stores usually start opening around now so this is as good a time as any to restock.

He goes to pull on a hoodie before grabbing his keys and wallet, but stops short when he sees Ingo, sound asleep again. He’s not sure what will happen if Ingo wakes up and he’s not there to see how he reacts.

Would he just go back to acting like that scared wild Sneasel again? Would he freak out and hide under the couch? Or try to escape the second he opened the door? Would he try chewing off the bandages? He doesn’t want to put a cone on his brother for goodness sake! Not like this. Should he lock Ingo in the bathroom to keep him more confined? But it’s cold there…

He hesitates, before remembering that he’s not alone in this.

With a pop of their Pokéball and flash of light, he’s met by Chandelure, who regards him with a sad hum, their flames dim.

They had taken Ingo’s disappearance the hardest, often refusing to come out of their ball unless Emmet begged them to. Even then, they never stayed out long unless it was to search for Ingo, often relentlessly patrolling for days without rest.

Their look of devastation when Emmet had to inform them of Ingo’s fate made the both of them cry, holding each other close as they mourned.

He gives the ghost a weak smile, “Hi, Chandelure. Can you please watch over Ingo? If he wakes up… just try to keep him in the station and calm, OK?”

Chandelure quietly regards Ingo and turns back to Emmet, nodding solemnly. Their trainer is gone, but their loyalty still burns bright, still dedicated to what is left of him.

Emmet pats them in thanks.

Kneeling by Ingo’s side, Emmet strokes his head as he informs him, “I… I will be back. You need to refuel soon and I need to find you better food.”

Ingo doesn’t respond beyond a small whine when Emmet pulls away.

He feels like he’s fleeing. Like a coward.

Or maybe he wants to get away for a bit. Just to collect himself before diving into what needs to be done.

It’ll be hard, but it’s the least he can do for Ingo.

As he opens the door, Emmet pauses, leaning his forehead against the frame as he watches Ingo’s curled form sleep.

“I’m sorry…” he whispers. He can’t help the words that escape him. He sniffles, wiping his forming tears with his sleeve, murmuring, “Maybe… maybe if I did better, you’d still be here…”

With a heavy heart, he steps outside.

As he closes the door, Emmet completely misses the puzzled chirrup coming from Ingo as he lifts his head in confusion, his words only just catching up to his sluggish mind.

* Something about how a Pokémon with human DNA typically meant that that individual had originally been human but some phenomenon had changed them, leaving only traces of their original species behind.

** He hadn’t even been that interested in looking for it. He’d merely commented that it would be neat to have a shiny on his team and his staff had somehow taken that as an invitation to hustle him out of the station. They’d insisted that he take a break and get on that shiny hunt, it’d be good for him to get some fresh air. Emmet would have fought them fiercely on it, insisting he needed to be there. But after working double-shifts for several weeks in a row on minimal sleep, he was perhaps finally burnt out and unresisting enough to just go along with it.

*** And wasn’t that a kicker. Learning that he and Ingo did not in fact perfectly match down to their genetics. That this was perfectly normal for identical twins was still blowing his mind.

**** There had been a split-second where he’d paused, enough to maybe, maybe indicate something. But that soon revealed itself to just be shock taking hold.