#Like he's been working on the mecha he knows it's done he knows he's starting it. He knows Layton will be his enemy

[another-clive-blog]

Why are we as a fandom not talking more about this scene ??

Clive is literally asking the professor to come back and stop him. Like this isn't him pretending to be Future Luke : he looks genuinely upset/displeased even after the professor promises to come back. He only goes back to smiling after the professor says, and I quote "I wouldn't dream of leaving things here in that state" before talking about stopping his future self. Clive wants confirmation that Layton is actually going to confront the bad guys, that he won't just solve the mystery but fix it too.

And this is literally so important. Clive's speech at the end, about getting saved. This is concrete proof that he had truly meant it from the start, because he's asking for Layton to stop him and thus save everyone here. Which, hey- he didn't just hope and wait to get saved, he tried to save himself too.

Yep, that's right. The game talks about how dangerous it was for Clive to bring Layton underground : it doesn't talk about how even more dangerous it was to let him leave. He could have brought back cops (he did). He could have gathered precious knowledge out there (he did). He could have never come back (and yet he did !!). Clive letting Layton leave is the biggest threat to his plan, and yet HE DID. And you know what else he did ? Make Layton promise to stop him. You can't make a clearer call for help, you just can't.

"Oh but it doesn't make his crimes more forgivable, now does it-" of course not. This isn't about Clive's redemption, it's about Clive trying to avoid needing a redemption : his efforts are vain the moment he started using the fortress. But. There were efforts.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Whims of the Fae

Fae walk among the people of Cybertron. They are so few in number that often their actions become mere tales, lost to rumor. But their presence is undeniable to those who know the signs, and in recent cycles, they have begun to gather. Optronix didn't care about the strange stories and the concerns of potential war. He was just a dock worker. What did it matter to him?

That was what he thought until one Head Archivist found himself "lost" in Optronix's place of work. It was only polite to help the poor mech out...

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

“You need to be careful! Don’t want the fair folk stealing you away!” Dion smacked him on the back fondly and chugged his ration like it was the last he would ever consume. Optronix grimaced and held his ration calmly. Dion always lived every cycle like it was his last, which considering their station, it very well could have been. Low caste mecha generally didn’t make it past thirty vorns before they gave out or were offlined in some accident.

“The fair folk are just stories. You know that, Dion.” Optronix muttered as he watched the area around him warily. There was something… off. He couldn’t place it exactly, but the very air seemed unsettled, distorted in a sense. Maybe it was the fumes from the ships coming in and out of the docks getting to him. 

“Sure! But you are still too nice for your own good! At this rate, some mech is going to scam you for all you are worth and leave you dead in a ditch.” Dion gave him a slightly more serious look, but he promptly stood and stretched, an alarm on his arm blaring. 

“Take care of yourself, buddy. I’ve got another shift.” Dion’s back gave a worrying crack and Optronix frowned as his elder friend winced. Dion was only twenty vorns old, but he was already showing wear and tear worthy of mecha deep into their fifth millennia of life. It concerned him, but there was little he could do aside from help in minor ways. Getting a medic cost an arm and a leg down on the docks. The most they could afford were the back alley scrappers who knew about anatomy from picking mecha apart for the organ trade in the red light district.

Optronix shuddered as he considered that possibility. No mech in their right mind wanted to go anywhere near a scrapper unless they were literally bleeding to death. He frowned as he looked down at his leg where bolt scars remained from the singular time he’d been forced to go to a scrapper. He was lucky it was just his leg. Dion going for his back would end with him losing his spinal struts in an ‘accident’. 

He sighed as he broke from his thoughts and Optronix stood and gently pressed on the small of Dion’s back, snapping a component back into place and earning a relieved sigh in return. His friend stretched again, this time with far more flexibility as his spinal struts realigned. 

“Be careful Dion. I don’t want you offlining due to overexertion.” Optronix smiled, but it was strained. If Dion noticed, he didn’t say anything. Their kind were condemned to die, they knew it from the moment they were assigned their function and caste. Still, it hurt to acknowledge once it started to have an effect on reality. 

“I will. Make sure to actually drink your ration this time. Don’t give it out to some stranger again.” Dion waved as he walked off and Optronix held his energon cube with a sigh. He was done for the cycle, unlike his companion. Arriving extra early meant he got to go to his dingy hab at a reasonable time. Not that there was much to do at his hab aside from wallow of course, but it was nice to have the free time to just… exist. 

He tried to focus on that pleasant aspect of his routine as he began heading toward the exit of the docks. And yet despite his concern for Dion and the overall relief that came from being done with his regular hard labor, Optronix found himself on edge. The feeling of wrong was getting stronger, and no matter where he looked, everything seemed to be off. He tried to move faster, hoping to go to his hab and have the feeling fade. But before he could, an elegant and most certainly higher caste voice called out to him.

“Excuse me, I appear to have gotten quite turned around. Would you perhaps be willing to guide me to the train to upper Iacon?” Optronix whipped around far faster than he would have liked. His optics were wide and his finials perked in instinctual terror as he laid his gaze upon a smaller mech, not particularly shapely, but sturdy and his armor hugging him in appealing ways. His red and blue plating shone with all the luster of the newly forged and his face was without blemish, two perfectly innocent and yet eerily knowledgeable optics shining up at him.

Every part of his coding demanded he run, and yet Optronix found himself enraptured. It wasn’t natural, but this mech was… strange. His EM field was soothing and compelling in a sense. Optronix didn’t want to leave even as the mech stepped forward.

“Sure! I can get you there in no time Sir!” Optronix hastily replied, turning away from those optics that seemed to stare into his very spark. Quickly reviewing his memory, Optronix gestured for the mech to follow and began to walk. He looked over at the smaller bot periodically, but otherwise they continued in silence. He still held his energon cube, but as soon as they left the docks, he found his tanks churning in nausea. 

He didn’t want to waste it, but he wouldn’t be refueling anytime soon now. Everything felt too strange for him to even hope to keep any energon down. Looking over at his companion, Optronix found himself torn. The mech had come with him without question, and that was worrying. If Optronix were anyone else, the high caste mech would likely be taken into some dark alley and shredded for parts or otherwise mutilated. The fact that his companion opted to follow him so easily was off putting, and not in the way Optronix expected.

It stank of some sort of trap. There wasn’t a mech dumb enough to follow a random stranger so close to the red light district without either some form of potent protection or a scheme guaranteed to assure safety. 

“It isn’t much, but would you like some energon? I am sure it isn’t exactly what a mech of your station is used to, but it's something to keep you going. The trip to upper Iacon is a long one from what I hear.” He held out his ration to the smaller mech, hoping that it would perhaps calm his spark’s nervous spin. Usually being charitable eased him a degree, giving him a sense of purpose. However as the smaller mech watched him, observing him with a simple smile and accepting the cube, Optronix still felt nothing but protoform rattling uncertainty. 

He wanted to leave. He had to leave. And yet his frame would not let him. The mech just kept staring at him, and something told him that trying to run wouldn’t end well for him. The further they went, the more it felt as though Optronix were wading into a minefield. Every step was a gamble, and Optronix could feel his tanks churn with greater unease the closer they came to the train station.

“Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality.” The smaller mech smiled with denta just a bit too sharp to be normal as he accepted the cube and took a polite sip. Optronix walked faster. 

This was wrong. He couldn’t pinpoint why, but he needed to finish helping the mech and leave immediately. Whatever was going on behind the scenes was not meant for him.

“Uh, what’s your name by the way?” His vocalizer felt heavy, the glyphs slurring as he tried to speak. He could see the train station in the distance, and never more did he wish he could run. Still, he needed to be polite. He was probably just on edge. The mech he was walking with was likely lost and uncertain. He needed to put his paranoia away, keep it together, and save up to see a medic. Ariel told him about stories where mecha went mad from the fumes. 

“You may call me Head Archivist Pax. I ended up down here while searching for my Conjunx.” Optronix almost tripped over his own pedes. Maybe that’s why he was so unsettled. Such a high caste mech down in the lower levels… Optronix was asking to be wrapped up into something or killed in some political garbage. 

He bit his lower derma and tried to focus his attention on the growing shades that came from the light of the nearest star receding. Perhaps his fear was from the darkness, he’d never been fond of the dark after Gears vanished into the lower levels never to be seen again. That had to be his reason for being so shaky, it couldn’t have been the Head Archivist. For Primus’s sake, Pax had done exactly nothing and Optronix’s behavior was likely going to scare him.

Optronix tried to vent as he approached the station with his companion. There was no going back now.

“It is an honor to meet someone as high up on the chain as you Head Archivist. I hope you find your way home safely!” Optronix stepped into the train station, bowing slightly as he’d seen mecha do on TV as he waited for the Head Archivist to leave. Pax regarded him simply and smiled, his now empty energon cube calmly placed in the recycling.

“You have been very courteous. Might I have your information? I wish to reward you for your kindness.” Pax smiled, and Optronix felt the very air draw in tight around him like a cage as he straightened. Panic rose in his very base coding and before he could stop himself, he reached to extend a commlink invitation to offer his identification and stop the sheer terror sinking into his protoform..

“Of course! I would be honored-” Optronix lurched forward, his servos instinctually coming to grasp his helm as his processors pounded. His body ached in a way he couldn’t describe and his spark panged in loss. The air was heavy and laced with static, so much so that when Optronix had the will to try and stand upright again, he could only take one step back before he fell to his knees shaking.

“This is the one you have chosen? He seems fidgety.” Opronix found coolant gathering in his optics as primal fear settled into his fuel lines. A towering mech, one he distantly recognized as the Champion of Kaon, stood at Pax’s side. He seemed normal, but his presence was oppressive and Optronix was a klik away from purging what little fuel he had in tanks. Where Pax evidently made everything seem wrong on a fundamental level, this mech, Megatronus of Kaon… he made Optronix feel small, unwelcome, and like a thief on land he did not own.

“He is more than sufficient, my love. He has given me what I needed, and I know for a fact that he will perform perfectly in his role. His mind is strong, he is simply a little overwhelmed right now.” Pax dropped to a knee and promptly ran his digits along the edges of Optronix’s face. He wanted to recoil, but those optics stared so intently into him that he could feel them everywhere. Pax saw everything, all that he was and ever would be. There was no escape. 

“Bind him to you, beloved. He must be prepared for the gifts we are to give.” Optronix tried to move, but as Pax stood and he remained on his knees, he found he couldn’t. Megatronus towered over him, eclipsing any chance of escape as he uttered a simple phrase.

“May I have your oath of allegiance?” The gladiator’s presence destroyed everything else. The world was collapsing in on itself. Light warped and was eradicated by the unstoppable titan before him. The scenery shifted into an all encompassing void only filled with the presence of whatever in the pits Megatronus was. Impending doom settled in his spark, and all Optronix could do was shake.

There was no escape. He was lost in this void. His voice was nothing amidst the emptiness.

“You are exerting too much influence, my Champion. Look at him, he can’t even vent.” The sound of the train pulling into the station and Pax’s voice broke through the void. Color and form returned to reality, and Optronix collapsed entirely as he gasped, his fans spinning wildly as he found himself desperately trying to cool his heated frame. He shook like a sheet of tin in a storm as he stared up in horror as the beings before him.

They weren’t Cybertronian, they couldn't be. There was no way normal mecha could do whatever they had just done.

“Optronix, it would be in your best interest to give your oath. You may not survive what is to come otherwise.” Pax smiled at him with all the faux innocence of a scrapper gazing down at his prey. Optronix wanted to cry. Dion was right. He’d been too kind and now he’d gotten wrapped up into whatever this was.

His vocalizer felt like lead in his throat as Optronix weighed his options and enjoyed the brief reprieve from the oppressive force that was the Champion of the Pits. He still shook as he pulled himself to one knee, instinct guiding his actions as he spoke. It was as if another spoke on his behalf and gave him words he otherwise had no clue how to say.

“I give my loyalty to the Lord of the Court of Fae. My allegiance to the Court shall endure until death or I am released from my bonds. Forever shall I come when summoned.” His spark screamed as fire raged throughout his frame. Optronix could only manage a strangled cry as he collapsed again, a brand seemingly being burned into his very spark. 

“Very good. You’ve done well. Now, we must not miss our train. The night is young and there is much to be done.” Pax grinned, his smile growing far wider than it should have been capable of. Megatronus for his part huffed and dragged Optronix by the arm, planting him on his pedes as though he weighed nothing. 

“I call upon you who is bound to me. Answer my summons and follow me.” Megatronus’s words drowned out all else, and before Optronix could so much as scream, one direct goal quieted his will. He quickly found himself walking behind the duo at a brisk yet seemingly comfortable pace. His plating flared, his optics were wide, and his field pulsed erratically off and on. Yet no matter how much he willed himself to move, to run in any other direction… his frame failed to obey him. 

They entered the train and Optronix was quickly ordered to sit next to Megatronus on one of the many dilapidated seats. The trains in the lower levels were held together by tape and a prayer more often than not. However it seemed that fact did not bother the two beings beside him as the train rolled out of the station. They sat comfortably, and it seemed as though the train itself molded to their preferences. It shouldn’t have been possible, but colors ran along the walls where they shouldn’t have been. Metal warped and shone before returning to its usual state. The windows showed the outside one moment, and a horrifying void the next.

He looked firmly at his pedes, desperate to keep himself calm as he ran through the situation in his mind.

These were fair folk. There was no other explanation. The fair folk were the only ones capable of stealing intangible things and altering reality like it was dough. There were all sorts of stories around the docks about them. Always third party retellings and things heard in passing. Still, as the train chugged along and the ground shifted colors, Optronix searched his memory for anything of use.

“He’s done nothing but stare at the ground. Are you sure he was a good pick? He can’t be strong enough for what we need him to accomplish.” Megatronus spoke with disdain evident in his voice. Optronix stole a brief glance up at the fairy in momentary anger, but he quickly found himself regretting that choice.

The mech, or rather the fairy, was no longer as he looked prior to entering the train. He hadn’t changed much physically, but he seemed larger, darker, his plating sharper and his optics so much more intense. It made Optronix’s tanks churn even harder than they already were. It was enough for shooting pain to assault his insides and remind him of a possible escape. 

Dion said once that fairies couldn’t enter homes. As dock workers, they didn’t really have that. More often than not, home was wherever a mech happened to be at the time. If Optronix could possibly find a way to separate himself and his space from the fair folk, he could possibly claim it as his. Sure, it was a limited and very short term solution, but it was better than whatever the fair folk had planned. He’d heard more than enough stories about mecha being devoured and returning to docks altered, strange, and misshapen. 

“He is perfect for the role I will delegate to him. He carries the correct bloodline and his CNA mimics my own. He merely requires cultivation.” Orion’s silky voice filled the train in a way that shouldn't have been possible, almost as though it were coming from everywhere at once. He didn’t want to look, he couldn’t afford to look as he raised a servo to his intake and bit down, silencing a groan of pain as the fair folk conversed.

“Are you trying to become Ratchet now? Only his kind cultivate the prototypes.” Energon welled from the damaged plating of his left servo. Optronix kept his optics firmly on the comforting glow. It was the only thing on the train that wasn’t changing aside from himself. It was grounding, it was… a warding agent.

“Nonsense my dear Champion. The lower beings do not require or deserve my direct attention. This one is a unique case.” As quietly as he could, Optronix began to drag his digit along the outline of his frame. The energon from the wound was thick and created a firm line cutting him off from the terrifying creature sitting mere feet away.  Just a few more lines, just a few more…

“You say that, but with how many schemes you’ve been developing, it would not surprise me if you brought more of the prototypes into our domain within the vorn.” His frame ached and his servo screamed as he raised it to his intake and bit again, forcing more energon to flow from the deeper wound. He reached toward the ground, acting as though he were attempting to curl up in fear as he dragged his damaged digit along the grimy ground. His vocalizer burned as grime entered the wound, but he paid it no mind.

The fair folk would not have him.

“T-This is my domain, created in my energon and filled by my presence. I order the fair folk away. They shall not enter.” He found strength as he sat up, his optics cycling in uncertainty as he uttered the familiar phrase. The train fell silent, and for a brief moment, Optronix wanted to have hope. Maybe they would leave. Maybe he could find someone to break their bindings and he could go back to living a normal life-

“How very adorable. He thinks we are of the lesser Courts.” Icy terror filled his fuel lines and Optronix gripped his knees so tightly that he drew more energon from his injured servo. No, it had to have worked, it had to have worked. This couldn’t be possible.

“Foolish little prototype. You already belong to us.” Those same servos came to run along the edges of his face, forcing him to look up. Optronix wished he could die right then and there as a mass of limbs and optics met him. That smile breached the confines of the face that held it and still Pax’s voice rang out clear and composed. Not a sound was uttered as the fairy pulled away, its form shifting back into what Optronix knew before it sat back down.

“At least he made an attempt.” Megatronus huffed, only serving to turn fear into rage. He was no sparkling, he was a grown mech and a citizen of Cybertron. If he was to die, he would do so on his own terms and with honor.

“My love.” Pax’s voice came out in a low trill as Optronix made a rash decision. The trains were torn half to pieces, metal jutted out from just about everywhere, and there was a more than acceptable metal pipe clinging to the wall of the train by a single screw. He broke it free without hesitation and swung with all the strength in his frame-

-Only for the pipe to phase straight through Megatronus without so much as scratching him.

“He has some spine after all! Look at that! A prototype trying to fight against and Archfae! Starscream will find this amusing.” Megatronus laughed, a deep and dark chuckle that had Optronix crying before he knew it. Coolant gathered in his optics and despair set in like the plague as he came to a sickening realization.

There was no escape. These things had control over reality, and he had fallen into their web the moment he agreed to walk Pax to the train station.

“I told you he was the correct choice. When will you stop doubting me when it comes to these things?” Pax laughed as well, a light comfortable sound that would have soothed any other mech as the train at last came to a stop. Optronix didn’t even try to fight as he was ordered to follow behind the fair folk that had bought his spark without him knowing.

Night covered the world in a deep gloom, but it did little to lessen the terror that reawakened as the Hall of Records came into view. It was a place of great knowledge, but the elder dock workers always said that knowledge came at a price. The news always had at least one missing person to report in the archives every other vorn at minimum. 

It made sense now. If the fair folk were taking him there, it meant that quite likely, other unfortunate sparks like himself had met their ends there too. 

Dion was right. Why couldn’t he have just been an aft and told Pax to shove off?

“Sire, I request that my guest be granted access to your domain.” Pax stepped inside the building and the lights flickered. A deep rumbling groan came from the very walls and Optronix wished for nothing more than to flee as Megatronus ordered him to enter behind him. He complied even as wires slipped through cracks in the very ground, caressing Pax’s legs and raising threateningly for Megatronus and Optronix.

“Alpha Trion, as your ordained heir and as an Archfae, you will grant my guest and my Conjunx access to your domain. Megatronus is an extension of myself, and soon my guest shall be too. Cease this waste of time.” Pax shifted again and Optronix looked away while doing his best to refrain from crying as the wires pulled away, retreating back into their hiding places. 

So the fair folk had family drama too. Dark amusement, likely edging on insanity, threatened to emerge in the form of a laugh as Optronix followed his fair folk masters deeper into the nightmarish structure. After the train, the archives weren’t quite so bad. The walls shifted, bookshelves moved around, and the lights forever flickered and increased and decreased in brightness. At least there wasn’t a void to devour all hope right outside the window. 

“Drink this.” He was jolted from his thoughts as he was forced to a stop in an open location. The bookshelves had been left behind several kliks ago, and now all that remained was an oval room with a table and a pool of what looked to be energon in the center. He was going to be eaten wasn’t he? Why else would there be what looked like an examination table right next to a pool of energon. His imagination provided him with a plethora of grotesque images of him being drained or possibly picked to pieces as a cube of an undeniable origin was pressed into his servos. 

It looked like energon, but he didn’t have time to question as the fair folk stared him down until he got every last drop of it into his tanks. It seemed like energon too based on the taste, but it left him feeling tingly and his systems bursting with energy it really shouldn’t have had. Maybe high caste energon just did stuff like that.

“Get into the pool.” The order came quickly, and Optronix complied. Not that he had much choice in the matter.

“Stay put.” The second order was more of an afterthought it seemed. As Optronix lowered himself into the pool of energon, he felt strangely at ease. His cables relaxed, his mind started to slow, and pains he didn’t even know he had all melted away in less than a klik. Before he knew it, he had dropped flat onto his back, all thoughts of escape vanquished. If he died this comfortably, he couldn’t exactly complain. It was better than a slow torturous death, that much was certain. 

“Don’t be stingy. Give me your arm! I need as much energon as I can get!” Pax’s voice distantly filtered through the hum that settled into Optronix’s processors. He didn’t seem upset but rather annoyed. Optronix for his part didn’t bother to linger on the thought as he gazed up at the ceiling, watching wires descend and scoop up a mech from a balcony a ways off. The mech screamed as they were dragged into the walls which closed with a sickening crunch.

It explained a lot of missing person reports.

“No, keep it steady. If the composition is off, the procedure could fail in spectacular fashion.” There was Pax saying something again. Optronix wanted to sigh. Could he not be quiet? It was so peaceful…

“He’s drugged out of his mind.” Megatronus laughed and stepped closer, his Conjunx right at his side. Optronix hummed but did not move as Pax entered the pool and stared down at him with a wide smile that would have otherwise had Optronix fearing for his life. 

“Good. He won’t feel the CNA override.” That sounded vaguely concerning.

“Optronix, don’t you worry sweet thing. When you wake up again, you will be born anew. Your name has already been selected.” There was a hint of feral glee in the Head Archivist’s tone. Optronix didn’t even have the strength to hum as recharge hung heavy on his mind. He wanted to rest.

“Drink up. That’s right, just like that.” A vial of something was pressed to his intake, and with some coaxing, the foul tasting concoction made its way to his tanks. He gagged as his frame began to go numb, but he wasn’t concerned.

“When will he be ready to be trained?” Megatronus questioned calmly as he gazed down at where Optronix suddenly found himself paralyzed in the pool. He couldn’t feel anything, and yet he wasn’t afraid. By Primus, some of his fellows would give an arm and a leg for whatever drug he was high on. 

“Not for quite some time. He needs to grow first.” Grow? He was fully grown.

“What? Shouldn’t he be ready within a few deca-cycles? His frame is fully developed, surely it can’t take that long to heal-” Megatronus trailed off as Optronix lifted his servo, watching in grim fascination as plating turned to goo and fell off his very protoform. He hardly had the strength to do even that as he fought against the calm that overcame him. And just as quickly as he raised his servo, it fell back down with a wet plop.

He didn’t need to look to sense that the rest of his body was falling apart. His optics were starting to flicker…

“It has begun. Soon we will have our little sprite.” The last thing Optronix saw was Pax’s smile which, for once, was gentle and kind.

Then the darkness claimed him, and he knew no more.

[toowolfdelusion]

Qi Rong, the Ghost King of Mirrors - Pt. 1

Before we begin, I must thank @diedikind who incited me to create this meta! They also write good TGCF metas as well, so if you have the time please check them out! Another thing to note is that I am writing this meta using mostly the unrevised version as my main source material. While I have read the Fangxin arc in the revised version and seen tidbits of the changes done to his character, I may not be aware of them all, so please keep that in mind. Also, don't be afraid to correct me if I accidentally got my facts wrong!

I’ve been thinking a lot about Qi Rong lately. In particular about his prince name, Xiao Jing (小镜). It roughly means “Little Mirror”/“Little King of Mirrors” (as @diedikind pointed out in the notes of this post) and frankly? There’s no better name MXTX could have chosen, because when you really look at him, you know that, both as a narrative device and as a character, “mirror” is very much what he is. He serves as a foil to a good number of characters, but also reflects a lot of traits from his environment and people around him, not to mention his habit of literally copying others. This is all reflected on how much Qi Rong tries to have his own identity, but because he’s stuck in an immature mentality, refusing to grow up, he ends ups stuck in a “child” role, making it impossible to truly have an identity of his own. This is even lampshaded by Hua Cheng in the aftermath of the mecha battle as Qi Rong is “dying”, when he notes that there’s nothing really noteworthy about him, despite Qi Rong always working towards standing out from the others. There’s a lot to unpack about his mirror symbolism, so I cut it in parts. This one is going to focus on how he mirrors Xie Lian and the Kingdom of Xianle itself. This is also quite long, so don’t open “read more” unless you’re ready to read a big Qi Rong meta.

Qi Rong, Xie Lian and the Kingdom of Xianle

“I don’t need your help, not like this. Are you really avenging me? Or are you avenging yourself?” - Xie Lian, Chapter 26

The most obvious foil Qi Rong has is Xie Lian, the protagonist himself. His relationship with Xie Lian is by far the most important alongside Guzi, something that is made obvious with how obsessed Qi Rong is with him, a fixation that also mirrors Hua Cheng's and Jun Wu's (I will touch on this in on another part). The mirror symbolism already starts early on in his life, with him being immediately noted to be similar to Xie Lian when they’re children, and if I remember correctly his prince name was even given to him because of said similarity. Since childhood Qi Rong was already seen as nothing more than a “little mirror” of Xie Lian, and, after the lantern incident, Qi Rong himself (probably subconsciously) started to see himself as such too. From there, Qi Rong starts to project his entire identity and psychological needs onto Xie Lian. He’s never been a very well liked figure since he arrived in the castle, but that doesn’t matter, because Xie Lian is. He’s not a very accomplished person, but that doesn’t matter, because Xie Lian is. He may not be a god, but that doesn’t matter, because Xie Lian is. Unfortunately, this is two-street: he also views Xie Lian as a “big mirror” of himself. Someone insults Xie Lian? That’s seen as a direct insult to him too, so he feels entitled to beat them up, even when that’s not what Xie Lian wants at all. This is likely the main reason on why he hurt Hong-er (alongside of what was probably jealousy too, but that’s for another analysis for another day), lampshaded by Xie Lian himself: he saw Hong-er changing the course the God-Pleasing Ceremony as a sign of bad luck and an insult to Xie Lian, and therefore an insult to himself too, ergo, he’s entitled to hurt him, or, using Xie Lian’s words, “avenge himself”. Aside from himself, he also projects his dire need for a paternal figure onto Xie Lian too (this is better explained in this meta translated by @baiwu-jinji), viewing him as a source of power, safety and affection. In other words, everything Qi Rong wants to have and wants to be, he projects onto Xie Lian. That’s why Qi Rong was among the first to turn against Xie Lian after the walls fell: if Xie Lian fails, he’ll be viewed as a failure. If Xie Lian is a laughing stock, he’ll be viewed as one too. If Xie Lian couldn’t protect the kingdom (and by extension Qi Rong himself) from Yong’an, then that means he failed at the role he subconsciously put Xie Lian in: the role of a father. This is why his obsessive hatred towards Xie Lian is so singular, but, despite all that, Qi Rong deep down still craves his attention and understanding (another Jun Wu parallel - i will also touch on this in another part). He hates his “father”, but he still doesn’t give up that idea towards Xie Lian, even calling himself mockingly his “little brother”. This may be why MXTX made him force Xie Lian to take care of him and Guzi in the revised version instead of Xie Lian being the one forcing him to stay in Puqi shrine: no matter how much Qi Rong despises him, he still sees his cousin as his “caretaker” in a way. And this is just me theorizing now, but part of me thinks his lantern symbolism/aesthetic may be a way of mirroring the lantern incident, the moment that truly made him Xie Lian’s little distorted mirror.

We already went through Qi Rong’s point of view of their relationship, but the mirror symbolism doesn’t stop there. From both a narrative standpoint and Xie Lian’s point of view, Qi Rong serves as a little mirror of the Kingdom of Xianle itself. Being half-xianle and half-yong’an, he went through both worlds, and as much as Qi Rong denies his Yong’an half, he was just as shaped by his experiences there as when he was in the capital of Xianle. He’s been both the poor and abused kid from Yong’an (it was only in his first five years of life, but these years are very important in a person’s life), a scandal and sore thumb in his family tree, and he’s also been a privileged Xianle royal who abused his power to get what he wanted like so many other royals. Hell, Xie Lian himself tells us he probably became worse over the years by mirroring the King and the rowdy crowd he hung out with in his youth. This post made by @essekknits points out the fact that Qi Rong has always been mimicking and mirroring those around him, especially the ones he perceives as having power, without ever understanding the logic behind their actions, and this is something he keeps doing long after the fall of Xianle. Even after death, he continues to haunt Yong’an, being responsible for the Gilded Massacre, an event that contributed to the decline of the kingdom, a literal and metaphorical ghost from a bygone era that nonetheless is still felt. This is why MXTX making the confrontation between Qi Rong, Xie Lian and Lang Qianqiu in the Mausoleum in the revised version, complete with the later two, viewed as “enemies” of Xianle, being severely weakened there while Qi Rong had made the place a lair for himself, is a change I actually like a lot. He’s the personification of Xianle who even after death continues haunting both Xie Lian and Yong’an. This is why Xie Lian’s hatred for Qi Rong is very singular too: Qi Rong is a mirror of everything he hated about Xianle. He represents the cruel nobles who used their power for selfish reasons and the people who adored and revered him but constantly went against his wishes and then went on to betray and humiliate him once he couldn’t keep up with their expectations. Xie Lian was treated like an adult with responsibilities way beyond his age, being forced to grow up early, and Qi Rong putting him in a “fatherly” role encapsulates that. He often had to “parent” Qi Rong (something that ultimately failed) when no one else did despite being a child himself, just like how he became a god too early and had to attend to the needs of multiple people who put all their expectations on him. Even after Qi Rong's death, Xie Lian is still forced to clean up after his messes, from having to protect Lang Qianqiu from him, to having to seal him up after the Guilded Massacre, to ultimately ending up in a coffin for roughly 100 years because of his shenanigans. Even in the events of the current timeline Xie Lian was still forced to “parent” Qi Rong often when he was in Puqi Shrine.

(As a side note, one thing I found curious was Qi Rong begging for Xie Lian to save him as Hua Cheng was beating up in the mausoleum in the revised version, even wondering how Xie Lian could even let him in. It could be chalked up to pure entitlement and a complete lack of self-awareness on Qi Rong’s part (which it is), but I think it also illustrates very well the fact that, despite viewing Xie Lian as a failed parental figure, he still expects him to protect him like a father should. It can also represent the fact that, even after completely rejecting Xie Lian, he’s still somewhat viewed as the protector god of Xianle, despite being branded as a traitor.)

With this all being said, there’s one last thing Qi Rong mirrors with Xie Lian: his character journey. It’s not very noticeable at first, but it’s still there. Like Xie Lian, Qi Rong starts out as a prince who ends up falling from grace after his kingdom collapsed. In the same way Xie Lian is seen as the laughingstock of the heavens, Qi Rong is hated and viewed as a pure nuisance by most of the ghost realm. And while the circumstances are completely different, the thing that helped save Xie Lian in one of his lowest points, which was the genuine kindness of the Bamboo Hat man and his own kindness towards Hong-er/Hua Cheng, is also what made a better side of Qi Rong resurface: the genuine affection Guzi had towards him. Even in his worst moments, Guzi never gave up on Qi Rong, and I think this is what ultimately made him a bit better towards the end. (I will shut myself now about his relationship and mirror symbolism with Guzi because that’s for another part).

As pointed out in this post by @baiwu-jinji, something I think is worth talking about is that his relationship with Xie Lian is probably meant to mirror the obsessions of fans and antis towards celebrities. I may be wrong about this, but considering MXTX’s own experiences with these sorts of people, I have high doubts this wasn’t the intention, and she’s no stranger in writing characters with this sort of commentary (hello, Shen Yuan). This may be why he became more deranged in the revised version too. He’s probably meant to represent the kinds of fans who place all their self-worth and identity onto their favorite celebrities, acting as if they know them personally and attacking other people in their name (often against the celebrity’s wishes), sometimes even viewing them as quasi-parental figures in more extreme cases of parasocial relationships. These kinds of fans usually become enraged when the celebrities they love end up “falling from grace” in their eyes, and they usually go on to become the worst of haters, who keep on obsessing over said celebrity, but this time to bring them down, harass and humiliate them.

(As another side note, while I think Qi Rong is not a character made with love, I don’t think he’s meant to be a pure hate sink either. MXTX still went out of her way to humanize him enough, and she gave him a subtle character arc with Guzi, which I will talk about on another part of this meta. Hell, the mere fact that he has so many facets to talk about is a sign of good character crafting, and he’s not even a main character!)

[the-sinful-voice-witch]

SONAMY ongoing evolution

I've been playing Sonic frontiers and I watched Sonic prime and I read the IDW comics... Omg where's do I start???

Sonic frontiers is just a work of art in general, but the sonamy inside is just beautifully portrayed, I can say that Ian Flynn totally ships them 😌😌. I'm just so utterly happy how things had changed even if it took so many years

Sonic changed a lot his perception of Amy! 🥲🥲🥲 Also the detail of the umbrella line, remember that sonic was created in Japan, say fellow anime fans what does usually means when two characters share an umbrella? What does it mean when students in Japan draw an umbrella in the blackboard with two names written under it? It is clear that Ian Flynn totally knows the meaning and the MUSIC! Seriously those scenarios with Amy and that music felt like it came right out of a shojo anime😖😖😖💗💗

But also the feels... THE FUCKING FEELS!! The way Amy is kind of too calm with her situation but Sonic is just so worried and you could tell how worried he was even if he tried to play it cool... His expressions girl... Look at him with his cute ears dropped 🥲🥲🥲 Guys this game fed us good stuff... We shippers finally got what we had always wanted.

Next topic: Sonic Prime.

So I'm a bit conflicted, cause i only liked one of Amy's different designs and that was Thorn Rose, I'm obsessed with her hair but dude Rusty Rose? That could have been better... Also why Rusty Rose and not Metal Rose? Cyborg Rose? Badnik Rose? Mecha Rose? Robot Rose? Rusty sounds a bit degrading... It is because she was made like that by the Egg council? Pff also her robot appearance is just so ugly! What with that eye? But I love the dark concept and I love her SASS 🤣🤣🤣🤣Anyway my problem with Rusty Amy and Sonic is that it feels like the situation is not treated nearly as serious as Nine situation and boy ok you are a hurt loner with bully victim issues but Amy is basically dead, like there's no flesh or organs in her, she literally has a Birdy as a source of life and what is the outcome of that? Is there another outcome different from Gamma's fate in sonic adventure? Because the second Amy gets back her emotions she will want to release the bird... But more importantly... I can't wait to see Shadow react to her... This is the girl that reminded him of Maria, i really shouldn't but I really have high expectations for what kind of interaction will they have, we really need to see Shadow and Amy interact more let's be honest. As for the other Roses, there's no much to say about Black Rose but with Thorn we got good stuff too:

But I have to say one thing... Ok I know Amy is a strong power character but... It's a bit ridiculous that she could fight off characters like Rouge and Knuckles THAT EASY is just...🙃🙃🙃 Well i loved the part when he tries to reason with her all like: you liked me... A bit? Remember? And she is just so irritated and done with him already 🤣🤣🤣 but then... We also got this:

Actually touch her cheek you COWARD!!😤😤 Also when he was about to smash her and but stopped because he has a flashback of his Amy 😭😭😭, it's curious that Thorn Rose seems to be more impactful in Sonic than Rusty Rose which is ok but is odd plot speaking, after all Rusty is the one in the worst condition and is the one hunting him down, I'll just wait for next season and see what happens

And last but not the least I Shall say something about THIS!!

This illustration hit me right in the kokoro, date with hands holding and Sakura petals... is pure shojo manga energy!! I'm so blessed 😭😭💗💗

And of course the important reminder that Amy is a POWER CHARACTER and that's why she and knuckles make a good POWER SIBLINGS team as I stated in their own post about them... And dear Silver fucking gave her a COLOSSAL hammer 😂😂😂do not mess with the pink hedgehog buddy, and of course Sonic knows exactly how awesome she is as it should be, seriously she is really getting better and better, i really hope we'll see her in the next movie

[whatavery]

Ordained Defiance Ch. 1

Finally, after weeks of buildup, finally I can start posting this very special story. Of all the characters in Lackadaisy, I really wanted to create some Abelard content, because I love him.

So what better way to do so than to write a little fanfiction featuring him, his family and my OC? A slow-burn story set in the small town of Defiance, Missouri...

For the first chapter, I present you with an image of my new OC alongside Abelard!

This lovely piece here was drawn by the amazing @mergestucs1!

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With the sweeping, green hills, the freshly sprouting leaves on the trees and the mostly clear, blue sky, Defiance was beautiful in spring. The air was getting warmer, but the breeze still had a sharpness to it whenever it graced Abelard’s face. It was a Thursday morning like any other as he made his way into town on foot, the apricot-furred cat enjoying the spring weather. Abelard's shoes dug into the dirt road that led the way through the small town that was Defiance. Granted, it really wasn't much of a town (it was closer to a village, if anything) given how small it was, and how much distance there was between the homes here.

The lean reverend took long, fast strides, walking with purpose. His morning strolls generally took him all over Defiance. He started at home and took the scenic route out to Defiance General, going through the small community and finally ending by the church.

He'd left the store just minutes prior, having stopped by the outskirts of town to see the shop owner. It was usually his first stop these days. Most days Mr. Weaver was up and working early, despite his age. Abelard always did make sure to purchase something when he visited, often in the form of cigarettes or other small items, usually something edible. Sometimes he brought home bigger items such as potatoes and the like.

And Abelard would, of course, gladly take on Mr. Weaver in a round of chess when time allowed it. Reverend Arbogast usually wasn't one to turn down an opportunity to spend time with the locals. It was part of his daily routine, making sure to visit with members of their little community. Though he didn’t personally visit each and every inhabitant of the small town, he made sure to at least greet them whenever possible, whether by the church or around town.

The man running Defiance General was one of the few that Abelard regularly visited personally. As reverend, Abelard saw it as part of his job to maintain a good relationship with said community; it was what the reverend before him had done. And it was what he’d taught Abelard; it was any reverend’s job to spread the word of the Lord and maintain good relations to those who believed, and even those who didn’t. After all, it was how a man of faith might help others see the light.

And as village minister Abelard didn’t just do services in the church on Sundays. Of course, that was part of the job; he took care to preach to his fellow man, woman and child. Though it had been a while since the last time, he had also done confessions and he’d heard quite a number of things. But as was his sworn duty, he’d never disclosed this to anyone; it was for him, the Lord and the sinner to know.

He’d been doing this job for decades at this point, and everyone in Defiance, and the nearby townships, that was part of his congregation, knew him. He'd established a good trust and good relations with the community, but it had taken time.

The township of Defiance primarily consisted of a small collection of farm buildings and barns around a main road that stretched through the small town. Defiance General was the primary place to do shopping for those who didn’t wish to travel further away by car, where they had more options. St. Louis was about forty miles away and Abelard himself hadn't made the trip there in quite some time. He was content in this small town where he'd grown up.

The town itself had a few things of note, despite its small size. For one, there was a local mechanic, though it wasn’t really a proper business, just a farmer who knew how to handle cars and other machinery. It wasn't so unusual to see him taking a look at someone’s vehicle, just as he was today. The farm house he lived in with his family was one of the larger ones on the side of the road that Abelard walked on. The barn door was open and the tuxedo cat could be seen fiddling with the engine of one of his neighbors’ cars.

As Abelard passed, he was spotted by the mechanic, who wore messy overalls over his clothes. He waved to Abelard as he passed. “Good morning, Father Arbogast. How do you do?”

“I’m quite well, thank you,” the lean cat called back in a proper tone. Abelard waved back as well, and offered him the slightest of smiles. Abelard was clad in all black from top to toe; black shoes, black pants, black jacket, black hat. The only article of clothing Abelard wore that wasn't black was his white button-up shirt under his jacket. “I hope you are as well.”

Though not a man who smiled much, nor a man to whom smiling came naturally, Abelard still did his best to be personable with the locals. At least for the most part. That wasn't to say he was all-smiles around them all the time, far from it. Father Arbogast, as he was most often called, had quite a reputation for being a man not to cross. It wasn't often, but he’d had to tell local children off more than a few times, using the colorful language he had become rather infamous for. And for the most part, it worked. He’d even had to tell off their parents on occasion.

Children as well as their parents knew to respect him and that was how Abelard liked things to work. Abelard was never one to shy away from doing such things if someone were to do or say something morally apprehensive.

Abelard didn’t linger around too much as he continued down the road.

The houses around the main road were generally large, quaint farm houses, many of them quite old with a fair bit of distance between each one. Defiance had never had a large population. Abelard knew they currently didn’t even amount to a hundred. The entire community could fit inside the church during services, even despite how small the church was. In the open area of Defiance, they had a few small businesses, such as a post office, an inn and a carpenter who also did metalwork on occasion. There was also a single bookshop and of course, further away there was a train station with its depot.

The businesses were mainly being run out of people’s homes, further adding to the feeling of a small, tight-knit community amongst the locals.

The area all around was wide and open with small groves and forested area nearby fencing in the majority of Defiance. The rolling hills and fields all around offered space for farmland, like the cornfields near Abelard's home.

The cornfields had gone from being harvested for food to also being harvested for more unsavory reasons in recent years. He'd been there for it all, as the changing political landscape of America had ushered in changes to his life. Not just his life either; Abelard also knew the unspoken truth that farmers both in Defiance, as well as all over the country, were doing the very same thing.

Abelard had spent most of his life in Defiance, as had many of its inhabitants. He'd traveled to visit nearby towns and cities, but home was always here. For better and for worse. But the small town of Defiance needed him. The Lord’s work was never finished until the day of reckoning and Abelard intended on continuing to spread the word of the Lord till his last breath.

He knew that there was no such thing as a one-man army when it came to his job. Abelard wasn't entirely alone; he spread the Lord’s word, he preached to warn of sins and temptations in the hopes that his congregation would help spread the same message. It was the point of preaching at all to begin with, to spread the word of the Lord, to help enlighten and to save as many souls as he could.

Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil… That part of the Lord’s Prayer had taken on a new significance to Abelard just a few short years ago. The nation-wide prohibition on alcohol had changed so much for so many people, again for better and for worse.

For Abelard? To him the very idea of stripping away a source of temptation in such a way was an affront. It had never been something that sat right with him; Abelard knew so many who saw it as removing the very option of giving in to sin from their lives, but Abelard privately saw it as a disruption to the natural order of things.

If anything, it seemed to have inadvertently added a whole new caliber of trappings into the lives of many. Abelard knew as much, being an initially reluctant participant in the illicit alcohol business.

But alas, here he was; illegal liquor had paid for much of the maintenance around the church and the town. Abelard knew that the cursed liquid would go on to add temptation back into the realm of the living – of the souls who would eventually need saving. Abelard knew that the very allure of the illicit only made sin all the sweeter to the ones who chose to give in to it.

But in the end, he knew that the truly good people would make the right choices, even with temptation in their lives. God would forgive sins, and although Abelard too would do his part to make sure people would not be led into the many pitfalls in life, he knew these complexities to be a necessary evil to separate the righteous from the wicked.

But Abelard kept these views to himself and a very select few close to him.

Passing more homes on his way, Abelard spotted more people who were getting their days started; a woman looking after the small garden around their front-porch where her small children were playing; a young couple leaving their driveway together in a car. Once more Abelard offered waves on his way, even if the children seemed rather frightened of him. He didn’t mind, of course. There was a fine line between fear and respect, and Abelard hoped they would learn to walk that line well.

If nothing else, Abelard hoped the younger generations would be given the chance to grow up with all of life’s complexities; the good, the bad and the tempting, all ever-present. Their parents (and he to some extent) would need to arm them to face the many trappings of life, and never stray from the righteous path. Whether they'd succeed or not was ultimately in their own hands.

All he could do was hope for the best… And hope that they may never get involved in unsavory business like his family.

Being in the liquor business had proven to have more downsides than upsides to Abelard. He resisted the urge to spit on the ground, to curse the names of those he'd had to deal with, as he continued on his way. Lackadaisy, Marigold, they were both the same to him; bands of immoral, cutthroat criminal that needed him and his kin for liquor and nothing else.

Though Abelard had no qualms with partaking in the making and smuggling of the liquor, dealing with others in the business had been less than pleasant. All the trouble that had come with it… It had cost him an organ player as well. Little Defiance had been the scene of some gruesome acts of violence, which Abelard still found unsettling to think about.

And that was despite all he'd seen and heard in his fifty-two years on this Earth.

Leaving the main residential area, Abelard passed the single inn that the town had. It was a small, family-owned place, a decently popular location that Abelard had visited many times. It was a two-story farm house where the family lived on the upper floor and the inn itself was located down below. It was one of the popular places for members of Abelard's congregation to end up after service on Sundays.

After passing the road that would take him towards the Arbogast Funeral Home, Abelard made his way past a tree line and out to another open area. The wide, open space was fenced in by trees from all sides, and the nearest farm houses could look right up to the white church with its single tower and tall spire that pointed straight to the Heavens. It was a relatively new church,; Abelard recalled in his youth that his parents had remembered the time when it was still newly constructed. Since it had been finished, it had been the church his family would visit for services every Sunday morning, and eventually the one that he himself would be the reverend of.

It wasn’t large and grand, but it was beautiful. All-white exterior, the church had two small steps leading up to the two tall doors out front with one short, wide transom above it. Further above the window as part of the tower was a clock, a relatively new installation. On either side of the large doors was a window, each larger than the one above the door, with a grid-like frame holding many small panes of glass. Each side of the church had four similar windows lining the walls, always making sure plenty of light could shine inside. The dark roof was angled upwards, the front merging into the small tower. The tower itself wasn’t that much taller than the roof, a small platform housing a thin, eight-sided spire reached higher than the roof, ending up in a sharp point.

There was always something to be done around the church, always something new to worry about, surprisingly so for such a small town. The illicit, ill-gained money helped keep the church in pristine order, and while they were currently out of a steady organ player, Abelard had other things to worry about. The groundskeeper was looking to retire. He was old and he had been looking after the grounds since before Abelard became the village minister. Just looking for a new groundskeeper would be a a mild challenge in the small community. Just something new for Abelard to figure out in the near future. Hopefully, the current groundskeeper would stick around long enough to find a replacement, so they wouldn’t leave the grounds unattended.

As a brisk morning breeze ruffled his facial fur, Abelard arrived by the entrance to the church grounds. The church was right by a crossroad; corn fields to one side, open stretch of grassland with graves on the other. The cemetery had expanded since the church’s founding, of course. Being framed in by the farmland, there was only so much space that could be used for graves; further away more grave sites had since been established.

No one was around at this time of day and as Abelard made it up the small steps to the large doors, he removed his hat and stepped into the Lord’s House.

It wasn't a very spacious interior, being a small church, but the space available had been optimally used. Stepping onto the wooden floor, Abelard walked up the aisle by himself. On each side of him were pews that could house the entirety of Defiance’s population during services, and there was even room for more people from neighboring townships. And in part owing to the small size of the church, Abelard had mastered utilizing the building’s acoustics to let his voice carry from the altar to the very back of the church, for all to hear.

Behind the last pew on the right side of the church, a small spiral staircase led up to a small landing above the entrance. This was where the organ was located, overlooking the small church’s interior. Abelard admittedly didn’t spend much time up there, nor did anyone else these days. The landing was close to the ceiling, which was painted blue like the sky outside, but even a man as tall as Abelard could comfortably stand up there without bumping his head on the ceiling.

Abelard made a mental note to attempt to send for a potential organ player in the nearby townships. He might even have to send for someone living further away, such as over in St. Louis…

The wooden pews that stood in rows on either side of the aisle were painted white, like the walls surrounding them. There were two windows up ahead flanking the altar, right across from each of the windows on either side of the door. Perfectly symmetrical. Along with the four windows on each of the church’s longer sides, plenty of light always poured in through these in the daytime hours. The same went for the circular stained glass window up above the altar close to the rounded ceiling. And of course, once it was dark, the multiple bronze candelabras on the walls and the large ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling in front of the altar would help keep the building illuminated.

Abelard stopped before the altar, right below the chandelier and closed his eyes for a moment, just enjoying the peace and quiet that the church offered him at times like this. The tall, lean cat had a white podium off to his left, where he would stand to preach and speak during services, facing the congregation.

Leaving the altar, Abelard slowly made his way back outside again, casting a glance out at the woods in the distance that served as the natural fence for this part of Defiance. Leaves were sprouting from the branches and the grass all around was starting to look as green as could be, it was a beautiful sight indeed.

The dirt road leading to the left from Abelard's vantage point led up towards where a small part of the cemetery was located. Further away along the road that ran along the side of the church was the Arbogast Funeral Home. It hadn't always been a funeral home, as it was these days; it had also been Abelard's childhood home where he’d grown up. He’d inherited the place from his parents and now it was also where he conducted his other ventures, including more unholy business.

Glancing up the path towards the cemetery, Abelard put his hat back on. The nearby funeral home would prepare the dead for burial, the church would hold a funeral service and the dead would be buried in the nearby cemetery. It truly was an efficient, albeit morbid, little system.

Abelard’s own parents laid buried there as well, as did other past inhabitants of Defiance and the nearby area. Growing up so close to not only the church, but also the cemetery had made Abelard’s skin crawl as a young boy, but these days the thought didn’t bother him at all.

The area outside and around the church was beautifully maintained, the grass kept short, the nearby trees kept healthy and the paths kept clear and clean. The morning sun’s rays casting a brilliant light over the trees’ fresh leaves, and the blades of grass, only added to the place’s natural beauty.

It was going to be a tall order to find someone new who cared about looking after the grounds this much. But Abelard had no doubt in his mind that he’d find the right person for the job, as was his responsibility. Odds were someone in town would be willing to do it – it would be easier and more efficient to not have to call in someone from out of town. Abelard knew he shouldn’t keep putting it off.

After enjoying a bit of time to himself, Abelard let out a content sigh. But he knew he ought to go about his business once more.

Turning back towards the church, however, Abelard spotted a single figure lingering by the white brick wall to the left of the church doors. He squinted slightly. He didn’t recognize the stranger at a glance, in part due to them facing away from him, apparently glancing out over the cornfields nearby.

The stranger turned their head as Abelard got closer, and already Abelard didn’t get the best first impression of them, noticing the way they were leaning on the church wall. They were practically lounging, like the church was their personal property.

“Ah, hello… Reverend Arbogast is it?” The stranger sounded uncertain as he spoke in a surprisingly soft voice. The Turkish Angora stood just a couple inches shorter than Abelard, his fur a grayish off-white color all over. His ears were particularly fluffy, though his fur overall was short, yet fuzzy. He had bangs reaching down to his eyebrows and the tips of his ears had white tufts on them. Very unusual.

Behind him he had a particularly fluffy tail that drooped ever so slightly. He wore a dark gray sweater with a thick, folded collar and a pair of blue denim pants. The right knee of his pants was torn open, his white fur showing through.

“Yes, how can I help you?” Abelard asked, his blue eyes taking in the stranger before him. Abelard's tone was polite, but slightly stiff. He didn’t recognize him, and yet there was something familiar about him at the same time. Abelard guessed he was likely from out of town – he made it a point to know everyone in Defiance, after all.

The stranger left the wall and approached Abelard, his fluffy tail fur swaying in the wind. Eyes met, sky blue and minty green, and Abelard noticed the younger cat had a face with soft, rounded, almost slightly… feminine features. The stranger held out his white-furred hand. “Well… I was just looking around a bit. I haven't seen this place in a long time…”

“You’ve been here before?” Abelard asked in surprise as they shook hands briefly. He squinted slightly at the white cat. Again, he got the sense that they’d met before…

“Oh, I lived here a decade ago, before I- Well, I moved out a long time ago.” The stranger’s stumbling didn’t go unnoticed by Abelard, but he was more so intrigued, though perhaps a touch suspicious as well…

Abelard still fixed the stranger with some amount of dislike, which based on the look on the younger man’s face didn’t go unnoticed. “Hmmm, I don’t recognize you… I know everyone in Defiance. What’s your name, young man?”

“My name’s Cainan – Cainan… Wirth.” Once more Abelard couldn’t help but feel as though something was wrong. The stranger seemed hesitant to give his name, which only made Abelard all the more suspicious of him. However, his name did stir something in Abelard – that sense of familiarity.

“Wirth? With an ‘i’?” Cainan nodded at this, though he didn’t meet Abelard's eyes when he did. “I see… Well, I might have known your parents in that case. Harold and Gabriela Wirth, correct?”

Abelard could see Cainan's face tightening at this, but the younger cat nodded. “Yup, them’s the ones. I was planning on visiting them after I’m done here, actually.”

At this Abelard raised an eyebrow as their eyes finally met again. He wasn't sure what Cainan's situation was, but this was… curious. For a number of reasons. The least of which being: “Well, they moved away a few years ago, if I’m not mistaken. They have not called Defiance home for a while.”

Cainan blinked up at Abelard with those pale green eyes. “… Oh.”

Was that disappointment Abelard heard in his voice? Or was it relief? Abelard genuinely couldn’t tell. The older reverend frowned down at the white cat. “You didn’t know…?”

The younger cat didn’t answer right away. Abelard could tell he was thinking hard about what to say. What was he up to exactly? He hadn't immediately struck Abelard as a troublemaker, though the way he hung around outside a church did seem suspicious. Abelard cast a glance over Cainan's shoulder towards the area beside the white building, which seemed to be quite untouched. When he glanced back at Cainan, the younger cat seemed ready to speak.

“Well, to tell you the truth, Reverend, no, I didn’t realize they'd moved. You know where to?” he asked. Again, Abelard found it curious how he spoke with the tone of someone just asking for the time; not with the tone of someone urgently needing to know the whereabouts of their parents.

“Hmmm, well, I don’t recall, I’m afraid,” Abelard told him calmly, though he watched Cainan closely, his gaze fixated upon the younger cat to wait for a reaction. Abelard had his suspicions, but he wanted to see just how Cainan might react to this information. To his surprise, the younger cat barely seemed to react at all – he just nodded slowly.

“Ah that’s alright. Guess I’ll try and ask around town,” was the response Abelard got, a surprisingly casual response. Now he was certain something wasn't right here.

“Were you hoping to run into them here?” The longer he spent in Cainan's company, the more Abelard could start to see some family resemblance. While he couldn’t say he'd been close with the Wirths, he still partially remembered what they looked like. He could see aspects of both Cainan's parents as he remembered them, when he gazed upon the younger cat before him.

“I suppose, yeah,” Cainan replied, his tone carrying that same casual carelessness as he spoke. Cainan seemed to hesitate for a moment, clearly thinking about… Honestly Abelard wasn't sure what was going through the young stranger’s mind. “I suppose I really just did come looking for you.”

“I guessed as much,” Abelard admitted, nodding slightly as he crossed his arms. The way Cainan had greeted him had indeed made it seem like he’d been waiting for him. Whatever this young cat could possibly want from him, Abelard didn’t know, but he was willing to hear him out. “So once more I ask you, how can I help you, child?”

Cainan’s left ear gave a small flick, possibly out of annoyance, though his facial expression didn’t show any signs of it. Abelard didn’t think calling him a child was unfair; he was young, clearly, though Abelard didn’t know quite how young. Perhaps he was older than his youthful face made him seem. “Well, I decided to return to town and, well, I’d like to do some work while I’m here. I’d like to… stick around for a li’l while.”

This was certainly a surprise to be sure. It wasn't at all what Abelard had expected of the young stranger, the reverend frowning slightly. He sighed. “Hmmm… And why didn’t you simply head into town and ask around? And why weren't you just honest from the beginning, young man?”

“I’m sorry, well, I figured this way was easier – I heard you were the village minister, so I figured… Actually, maybe this was a dumb idea.” Cainan suddenly seemed to change his mind mid-sentence. The younger cat shook his head and made to leave. “Sorry to waste your time, I should just drive-”

“Now hold it just a minute…!” Abelard put a hand on Cainan's shoulder to stop him in his tracks, gripping him firmly with his slender fingers. Cainan turned to look at up him, apparently surprised, his white eyebrows raised. “Slow down and explain yourself. I can’t figure out where to put you, if I don’t know where you came from.”

“So, you will help me…?” the Turkish Angora asked hopefully, his ears perking up immediately. Abelard let go of Cainan's shoulder and stared at him in disbelief. Had he been hoping for this kind of reaction…?

“I asked you to explain yourself. We shall see if we can find a solution to your predicament once I know everything… And I do mean everything.” Abelard had a feeling Cainan just might be a troublemaker, but of a different sort than the kind he had encountered before. He gestured towards the church with some apprehension. “We can step inside and talk, if you'd please.”

Cainan turned towards the church with an equal amount of apprehension of his own. He bit his lower lip and seemed to consider this for quite a little while. He awkwardly hovered around where he stood, though he didn’t step towards the church. “Uh… maybe we could talk out here? Or we could go for a walk? It was a long drive here, I’d like to just stretch my legs a little bit.”

Abelard thought it curious that he'd mentioned a long car ride, seeing as there wasn't a car around to be seen nearby. He looked at the younger cat, eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“Oh, I drove into town, but I walked here,” the white cat hastily added, apparently not ignorant to the doubt written all over Abelard's face. The white cat offered a would-be innocent smile, but given the hasty way Cainan had offered up a rather flimsy explanation, it didn’t make Abelard trust him any more. “And besides… I haven't really been in Defiance for years. You could show me around… Please…?”

Abelard scowled at the shorter cat, crossing his arms again. Cainan continued looking at him with that would-be innocent smile of his, but Abelard saw right through it. Whatever he was playing at, Abelard wasn't going to let him win. He knew for sure he didn’t want to participate in his little games. But if he wanted to stick around and work in the town he grew up in… Abelard supposed it wasn’t the worst thing to want, even if he was being deceptive about it. Still, something wasn't right about Cainan…

“Very well, we can walk together,” Abelard finally agreed, though he still scowled at the younger cat. Cainan on the other hand seemed perfectly pleased with this outcome. It indeed seemed like this was the outcome the younger man had desired.

As the two of them left the church grounds and walked up to where the two roads outside the church crossed, Abelard couldn’t help but feel like this was all an elaborate rouse. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Cainan was trying to manipulate him in some way. His intentions sounded innocent enough on paper, but the way he went about everything didn’t sit right with Abelard. “Now, young Mr. Wirth-”

“Ugh, no… Just call Cainan… uhm… please. Reverend.”

“Well, Cainan… If you wish for me to… potentially assist you with your plight, I must ask you a few things. And I ask that you return the favor by answering my questions honestly.” Abelard turned his blue-eyed gaze upon the other and fixated him with a scrutinizing look. “Do I have your word?”

“Of course, I’ll be… honest.” The hesitation made Abelard scoff and offer Cainan a side-eye as the two walked down the dirt road together. “No, sorry, I mean it. I’ll be honest – I swear.”

Abelard still scowled, but he ultimately nodded, breaking eye contact to look ahead. The two walked along the road that ran parallel to the church’s front door. They moved in silence for a few seconds as Abelard gathered his thoughts. He still wasn't at all sure what to make of Cainan. He didn’t appear very trustworthy; the way he spoke, his closed off body language from the way he slouched and the way he shrugged so often. Abelard very much felt that the answers he got from the white cat would prove whether he was to be trusted or not.

“So, tell me: when did you move away? And how come your parents didn’t contact you to let you know that they'd moved themselves?” Abelard decided to go for two big questions back to back. When he looked over to Cainan on his left, the younger cat did indeed seem taken aback by the questions. Abelard simply hoped he'd honor his promise and tell him the truth.

“Ah… Well, those are very good questions…” Cainan replied hesitantly, looking away at the cornfield they walked past. Abelard could tell he was stalling to answer, and he was starting to feel rather annoyed with Cainan already. Though the scowl on his face didn’t go away, Abelard calmed himself the best he could, and just waited. “Well, to answer the first one, I left town when I was… I think fourteen. Thirteen? Around that time at least.”

“Really now? And how come you decided to leave Defiance then?” Abelard wondered aloud, and he couldn’t help but privately wonder if Cainan had run away. It seemed unusual to travel away alone at such a young age. But all the same it seemed so unlikely; from what Abelard remembered of the Wirth family, they were a respectable sort, a good family with good values. They were people of faith and everyone in town seemed to like and admire them.

At least if Abelard's memory served him correctly…

“Oh, I needed a change of scenery.” Once more, Cainan appeared so casual. He stuck his hands into his pants pockets, looking completely unbothered. He still slouched a bit, whereas Abelard took proper strides, back as straight as a board. “Small towns like this are nice, but I wanted to see more of what the world had to offer.”

Abelard had to admit, the younger cat’s answer had surprised him. Assuming it was the truth, he couldn’t help but find it almost admirable to want to experience things like that at such a young age. Perhaps that was how his parents had raised him?

Of course, being out in the world meant temptation. How old was Cainan now? Abelard wasn't sure, but if he left about ten years ago, perhaps… Ten years was a long time… Who knew, maybe Cainan was older than he seemed at a glance. “And where did the road take you then?”

“Oh, here… there… all over the place.” Cainan offered up another casual shrug, Abelard feeling a twinge of annoyance shooting through him at the sight. “I started going from town to town. I traveled down south for a bit, then over east to St. Louis for a while. Never really out of state, though.”

“And now you’ve returned home.” Cainan glanced on over at Abelard in a manner that told Abelard all he needed to know. The look told him far more than the young cat likely meant for it to; he didn’t like the idea of referring to Defiance as ‘home’. Although he said nothing, it was written all over the younger cat’s face. “And what did you do while you were away exactly? I take it you must have done some kind of work to get by, have you not?”

Cainan nodded as they approached the treeline that bordered the fields near the church. Past the treeline there would be yet more farmland with more houses and more of what Defiance had to offer. “I did a couple different things. Factory work, courier work, personal driver, everything in-between, really.”

It was of course a very vague list, but Abelard supposed if he truly was that versatile and had gotten a lot of experiences in his time away from Defiance, he might just fit in after all. It shouldn’t be too hard to find something for him to do at least; Abelard was sure he (or at least the locals) might be able to find a niche for the Turkish Angora to occupy. But of course, that was all up to the community and how well he got himself reintegrated with them.

Defiance was a small, small town, but there should be room enough for one more – it might even help that he grew up there. Abelard wasn't sure if anyone would remember the white cat, but perhaps if they did, that might ease the transition.

As the two of them reached and passed the treeline, they also reached a more densely populated area. This was of course relatively speaking as the buildings scattered here still had a considerable amount of distance between them. Cainan glanced around with considerably more interest than he’d shown up until that point, his green eyes taking everything in. “Ah yeah, I do remember this place… a little. It hasn't changed that much from what I remember…”

“Suppose there’s not too much of a point in showing you around then. Hmmm, let’s see… If you left some ten years ago, I suppose you may not have seen that we have a bookstore now, have you?” Abelard asked as they approached the nearest building. He didn’t remember exactly when the bookstore had been opened, but he was fairly sure it must have been after Cainan left home.

“Oh, I don’t think so, no. I might have to stop by later,” the younger cat said. Abelard thought it might be the first time Cainan said something genuine. At the very least it seemed more genuine than anything else he had said up until that point.

Out here, there was more open grassland, less of it dedicated to farmland, more of it just simple grassy, green hills that rolled along the beautiful landscape. While there was distance between the homes here, they were closer in proximity than some the farms around the church. Cainan looked around curiously as the two of them continued along the dirt road. “Ah, I recognize some of the buildings.”

“So, where are you staying exactly? I take it you’re not staying in your parents’ old home. Are you renting a room at the inn?” Abelard inquired as they neared the very same inn on their stroll. Although it was one of the larger buildings in town, they only had two rooms they rented out, seeing as Defiance didn’t see many visitors, usually. It had a seating area inside for guests to sit and dine as well.

“Oh, no, I’m not. I’ve already got a bed with my name on it,” Cainan replied vaguely. As the two of them passed the inn and approached other houses, a few people took notice of the strange duo.

Abelard would nod in greeting to them, but he could tell people were curious. “And where might that be? If you’re planning on working here, I think we ought to make sure you don’t have to commute back and forth…”

“Ah. Well, I’m staying on over in Cottleville, it’s not too far.” Abelard watched Cainan closely, trying to see if he was being honest. He had a difficult time with this young, white cat; he was easy to read at times, yet other times, such as now, Abelard hadn't the faintest idea what he was thinking. His face was neutral, blank like a fresh new canvas, not showing a single discerning emotion.

“I see. I suppose that isn't too bad as far as distance is concerned,” Abelard reluctantly agreed as they continued on their way. He fell silent for a moment, the older cat needing a moment to think things through. They passed by the post office on their way.

It was another business that had had its start in someone’s home, albeit a house considerably smaller than most of the others. A single-story house where the very front had been converted into the post office where letters were sent and received daily.

Abelard privately thought that if anyone had kept in touch with the Wirths, Cainan may be able to get their new address and send for them… if that was even something he wanted at all. Abelard had gotten the distinct feeling that perhaps there was some unpleasant history between Cainan and his parents.

“So, say if you were to stay here, what work would you be willing to do?” Abelard finally asked after a brief of silence. He fixated the white cat with a scrutinizing stare once more. He supposed this too might reveal a bit about Cainan's current situation, as well as his character.

“Oh, anything and everything,” the young cat said almost lazily. “I did do food service for a while, but I don’t know if the inn would need to hire any help. I don’t know what else there would be around here. But I suppose I’ll just have to find out.”

Anything and everything was a very wide spectrum, and Abelard wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. It could mean one of two things to Abelard; either Cainan truly was incredibly versatile and not at all picky; or he was desperate. Abelard supposed that regardless, it shouldn’t be too hard to find something for him to do.

“I really ain’t too fuzzy about it. Maybe I’ll just stick around for a few days and see what happens.” Cainan cast an inquisitive glance back over his shoulder towards the post office. It was one of the first buildings one would encounter when entering Defiance from the direction they were going. “Hmmm…”

“What is it?” Abelard looked towards the building as well, then looked back at Cainan. He raised an eyebrow curiously.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Just considering my options,” the younger cat replied with a shrug. Cainan pulled his hands out of his pockets and cracked his knuckles rather loudly, before resuming his slouching posture. “So, hmmm… anything else you want to know about me?”

Abelard could tell Cainan was hesitant, and odds were he was only asking to be polite; it was clear to Abelard that Cainan was being secretive on purpose. Whatever it was, the younger cat did indeed seem to hide something, though perhaps he just simply didn’t enjoy sharing. Abelard supposed he couldn’t blame him there.

“So, if you’re staying somewhere over in Cottleville, are you a permanent resident there? Or what is your living situation? I’m trying my best to understand here…” Abelard had a feeling he knew the answer, but he needed to be sure. That was assuming Cainan chose to answer truthfully, of course.

“I’m… more or less homeless at the moment,” Cainan admitted, looking up at Abelard. Their eyes locked again and Cainan just gave a small smile when he saw the look on Abelard's face. “It’s alright, I’m managing just fine for now.”

Abelard watched the younger cat for a moment as they continued on their way. He wasn't so sure; being a young man without a job and a home didn’t seem like he was managing. He supposed if he had money saved up that was one thing, but he also didn’t know for sure. Abelard's eyes drifted down to the torn knee of Cainan's denim pants. That seemed like something he could and would have fixed if he’d had the funds for it.

Although Abelard didn’t want to give Cainan too much just yet (in case he was the type to take an arm, when offered a hand) he couldn’t help but feel as though he ought to do something for him. As untrustworthy as he’d been acting up until this point, Abelard thought that perhaps he was making light of his own situation to make it seem less severe. Perhaps a coping mechanism of some kind.

Nevertheless, the two of them continued along the road. They didn’t speak too much outside of Abelard explaining which buildings were from after Cainan had left town, which seemed to be a good number of them. Even with Defiance’s small population, there ought to be quite a few new faces among them now, at least for Cainan who had been gone for so long.

The two had made it all the way to the road sign that would first greet those arriving in Defiance, at which point they turned back. They’d ended up further from the residential area and closer to Defiance General.

The post office was the first building of significance they reached on their way back. A decently sized building with just one floor, a quite scenic one given the open field behind it. Abelard knew a local artist had once painted a beautiful piece featuring the post office and its backdrop. It was, in fact, iconic to the residents.

Glancing through the main window as they passed, Abelard offered a wave to the local postman, Mr. Lang, who was working inside. The gray tabby offered a wave back, though he cast a curious glance at Cainan, who seemed to be glancing the complete opposite way. He almost seemed to willfully try to ignore the post office’s existence.

“Would you like to go inside? Perhaps we can ask if there’s work to be done in the post office.” Cainan turned towards Abelard again and looked apprehensive at best.

“Oh, uh… Yeah, we can head inside,” the younger cat replied, speaking with a similarly apprehensive tone, his eyes not meeting Abelard's. Abelard raised an eyebrow curiously. For someone who said they’d take on anything and everything, this was a curious reaction, when the very prospect of a potential job was brought up.

What are we going to do with you? Abelard privately wondered as he stepped up to the post office’s door, looking sideways at the younger cat. Abelard knew next to nothing about him at this point, maybe Cainan truly was doing better than he appeared to be.

He was an enigma, this one…

[akatsukiky]

Fic idea for Transformers Earthspark because I miss KO, might actually write this one

TFEarthspark Spoilers ahead

Probably Bumblebee-centric POV-wise

After Episode 14 ( 😭 ) Bee’s hurting and low on Energon, he can’t go back home, he can’t reach out to Optimus or Megatron or anyone else at GHOST. He needs a medic but Primus knows where Ratchet is- probably hiding away far from humanity like the crotchety Scrooge that he is- and, being the only Cybertronian who knows what happened to Breakdown, his choice is pretty much made for him.

He goes the Robby and Mo’s school at night after having sent an encrypted message to a certain someone in particular to meet him there. Bee’s found right away by Mr. Smelt who starts a spiel about teenager insubordination and “mischievous wiles-” up until he really sees Bumblebee.

Smelt perceives him for a bit, recognizes him and weighs his options- and vanishes. From elsewhere in the space they’re at, Smelt’s voice changes, becomes louder- tighter like he’s furious but keeping a lid on it as best he can. Lo and behold, ‘Mr. Smelt’ is just the holographic front of the ex-Con medic and racer, Knockout.

Knockout who is reasonably pissed. Bumblebee, knowing full well that Knockout dropped off the place of the planet for a reason and had a good enough life going for himself, came and is jeopardizing the both of them. But Knockout’s a professional, he knows to work on a patient as busted up as Bee first, vent his frustrations later. So, he corrals Bumblebee off into his own bunker under the school blacktop.

Knockout fixes Bee up with a kind of clinical detachment, very “once this is done, you’re leaving.” That doesn’t last. Knockout asks if Bee’s heard from Breakdown at all and Bee- he doesn’t spiral, persé, but it’s a near thing. BD is framed as his close friend, a ‘brother’ to him- kind of mirroring the TFP Breakdown and Bulkhead ‘friendship.’ Bumblebee’s also a hero, working alongside The Best (Optimus), whose mindset of Heroic Responsibility probably rubbed off on him.

The fact of the matter is that Bee feels like it’s his fault. He could’ve pushed Breakdown to back off the race more, could’ve exposed himself first, done anything better and maybe Breakdown would be here keeping Knockout company. But he’s not and Bee failed and now he has to deal with the consequences.

Before Bumblebee can say anything, though, KO elaborates. He admits that Bee came at the perfect time because any later and he would’ve missed the medic entirely. He knows that something’s wrong and that Breakdown’s gone and gotten himself into something bad. He felt it- can feel it in his Spark. It makes Bee wonder (and not for the first time) if the Conjunx Sparkbond really does share all emotions, if KO always felt BD’s excitement for a race (and if he felt scared at all when GHOST took BD).

KO had felt so much energy, so much adrenaline that had been tempted to go and see if he could get in to race BD himself. Then there had been something like acceptance- not resignation, no, but a powerful kind of realization with this finality that hurt- and then, just for a moment, a klik’s worth of fear. After that, Knockout’s felt nothing of his partner- not in the offlined, Bondbreak way but more that Breakdown’s in a deep, deep recharge.

Bee, of course, tells Knockout exactly what happened and the medic is suitably furious. He does blame Bumblebee at first, then fleetingly blames Breakdown for being so foolish, and finally resolves that it’s GHOST’s fault (and his own, though he doesn’t say it).

There’s a heavy silence. When they do speak, though, they’re coming to the conclusion that both of them are far from giving up on Breakdown and agree that there’s no stopping until they find him.

And that’s it, that’s the idea. It might just be a oneshot or something.

If it does turn into a real fic, it would probably turn into picking up a team of sorts- mecha (and humans?) who want GHOST gone. I think it would probably wind up being Tarantulas (because he is so COOL), Thundercracker, and maaaybe someone else? I’m not entirely sure who though.

On one hand I think they could have a human and that would be a cool addition to the group, nice dynamics and all. At the same time, though, I would like for it to be a human the fandom can recognize (meaning it’ll wind up being either Charlie, Jack, Miko, or Raf; favoring Miko because she’s special).

Alternatively, Bee could use another Bot around lest the Con’s conning starts to rub him the wrong way. My heart is saying Prowl or Jazz, but that’s because I’m a sucker for them and Aardrinn’s Crime in Crystals. Jazz is a solid middle ground, just right amount of morally ambiguous to gel with the Cons and definitely good enough to help ease Bee’s nerves. Prowl’s a little too uptight and (by IDW05 Prowl) probably would side with GHOST (maybe betrays them?).

[friendlylifecherry]

Kiyotaka Week Day 3: AU. Mastermind Ishimaru AU. Unedited, mostly

@mini-mecha-cowboy

It's rather late in the night and Taka is doing the old, familiar dance of speaking to Izuru inside of his dorm room. It's just that this time, it's through one of the Monokumas instead of with the communicator.

"I really have to say, Kamukura-kun, this was an excellent first day as Monokuma. I'm quite proud of your performance! I was actually pretty worried when you didn't want me to know what you were going to do for Monokuma, but your performance was actually very well-actuated! I’m very proud of you, Kamukura-kun!” Taka says as he changes into his sleep clothes.

Izuru rolls his eyes behind the monitors, mostly focused on putting together the assets for the first Monokuma theater. He knows that Taka is proud of him, it’s nothing at all new for anything that Izuru does. It’s not like Izuru has to bother putting on the act here.

“It’s nothing. So, what do you expect will happen next?” Izuru says as Taka brushes his hair and teeth.

Taka spits out the toothpaste after he’s done thoroughly scrubbing his mouth. “Considering that I know the others quite well, I doubt they will start any sort of murder anytime soon. But this first murder does have to happen within the week.” After all, the news cycle already has a million other things to focus on outside of updates about these children trapped inside of a school with a murderous robot bear, even with a 24-hour live feed. If he wants to keep the attention of the media, he better have it clear that this is not some sick joke by a cultist but the real deal.

Izuru nods as he integrates the background music in the Monokuma Theater. “Motive or do we force the issue?”

Taka weighs his options. Just forcing the issue through some form of blackmail would be easy, but it wouldn’t send the message that he wants to send. No need to make a point about inherent human desperation when the first deaths happened because it was literally forced onto them. On the other hand, someone does have to be dead by the end of the week, and if they wait around, they may genuinely be waiting forever. And Izuru sure is not going to wait forever for his promised entertainment.

“How about this? If a murder doesn’t happen within the next 3 days, you can use one of the motives. If someone doesn’t get murdered after that, then we can start forcing the issue! Would that be acceptable?” Taka asks as he makes his nightly final rounds before he heads to bed.

“Can do!” Monokuma cheerily salutes Taka. Izuru’s working with the audio equipment. You have to make sure that the voice sounds the same in the Theater as it does in the live feed, or at least similar enough. “So, who do you want to bring in for plan B? Maybe your favorite thug?”

Taka turns bright red and chastizes Monokuma. “Mondo is not a thug!”

“So you’re *not* denying that he’s your favorite? I thought that you were supposed to be “impartial and fair”, Ishimaru-kun?” Ugh, Taka can already feel his face get redder and the headache start growing. Why does he even bother with these arguments? He never wins them anyway. Monokuma continues as if Taka didn’t interrupt him. “How about Oogami? She’s big and strong, and pretty much would have to listen to whatever we say if it has something to with our hostages.”

“Oogami-kun is a good choice, but I doubt that the dojo would be good enough collateral.” A centuries-old family dojo is all well and good, incredibly important, and almost a holy ground for Sakura. But the fact that it was burned down in an arsonist’s blaze (unrelated to the Ultimate Despair) about 6 months ago and all the members have been scattered to the winds in the refugee crisis is a bit of a snag on the effectiveness.

“Not that run-down old dojo, dummy! I meant her little boyfriend. Well, little compared to her right now, anyhow.” That actually draws Taka’s attention from organizing his papers.

“I thought that Kenshiro-kun was terminally ill with a severe cancer diagnosis?” Frankly, with the collapse of medical services, he should’ve died a while ago.

“Nope! He’s still kicking somehow! Ain’t the world’s strongest man for nothing, the weirdo! Gwahahahahaha!” Monokuma laughs at his hilarious “joke”. “He’s actually the one we got in custody right now!”

Well, that certainly makes things much easier for everyone. Provable collateral and if there’s anything about Sakura that he knows, she would do literally anything to protect her loved ones. Even kill or die for them.

“Well, that’s perfect! You can contact her as soon as possible, correct? Maybe make some implications that we can keep him alive as well, to really sell it.” Taka wants this to be locked down by the time that he wakes up, after all. "And after that, please get some sleep! A healthy mind and body start with proper rest!"

"Fine, fine. I gotta go now, since she's just done meditating. Buh-bye!" And with that, Monokuma disappears again.

The light on the camera in his dorm room comes back on, Izuru must be focused somewhere else and done with the conversation for the night. Well now, it’s off to dreamland for Taka! He would be a hypocrite if he didn't get his rest now! And with that, he shuts off the lights and drifts off to sleep.

[flipping-the-coin]

Ratchet what did orion do to make u hate him so much? Wernt you freinds b4 the war?

𝔉𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔩 𝔖𝔱𝔢𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡: ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔱

ℭ𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔩 ℑ𝔞𝔠𝔬𝔫 -

ℭ𝔶𝔟𝔢𝔯𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔦𝔞𝔫 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔠𝔦𝔩 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯𝔰 -

𝔊𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔇𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 -

Orion did not do any one thing to make me despise him. It is a collection of all he has done and the consequences of those actions, regardless of whether they were intended or not. I... did not hate him before the war. We were friends, at least insomuch as fellow prisoners sharing the same cell can be. He made my life a living torment, but I did not blame him for it. Not in the beginning. He didn't know. I still don't think he knows.

It is not exactly public knowledge, but Alpha Trion had his digits in many more ventures than one might suspect. I don't know the full extent of it, but I do know for a fact that he had several other mecha higher up the ladder killed so that I could rise to the station of CMO. Even that promotion was more of a curse than a blessing. I could have made it to CMO on my own, but I rose far faster than I was prepared to handle... and all because Alpha Trion wanted to punish me for plotting. Everyone congratulated me when I was promoted. They all thought it meant my hard work was bearing fruit. Primus, they were all wrong.

I thought Alpha Trion was going to kill me when I attempted to get Orion away from him and failed. That foolish archivist... Orion didn't understand when I asked him to flee with me. He couldn't see that he was a puppet just like me. If he had just listened when I asked him to come with me, we could have vanished into the night and gotten away from Alpha Trion. Then we could have gone our separate ways if he wanted, but I was trying to be a good friend. I was trying to get us both out of the web Alpha Trion wove. By the Allspark, I tried so fragging hard.

When he didn't follow me, I knew I had to go back. I couldn't leave him there to suffer alone. We may not have gotten along all the time, but at least when we were together, we could think about other things aside from our absolutely slagged circumstances. So I came back to Iacon. I gave up on my plan to escape and came back. The Master Archivist must have known I would come crawling back. He didn't kill me, no, he forced a promotion on me and effectively ensured that I would be too overworked to think so deeply.

I wasn't always this cranky. No matter how strange it might sound, I used to party once upon a time. I was known for being somewhat wild in my youth. You can ask Soundwave. He will corroborate my story on that front.

That wildness died when Alpha Trion began to communicate directly with me. Up until I was promoted to the station of Head Doctor at the Trion Square clinic he had only pulled strings behind the scenes. But at that point, he started to reach out to me. At first I saw it as my work being noticed by a mech of high standing. I was excited at the prospect of possibly getting a sponsor to fund my research into cures for the plagues threatening the lower levels. I should have known better than to jump at the chance to accept Alpha Trion's sponsorship, but at the time I was desperate for funding and trusted Alpha Trion's reputation of a reasonable mech.

Fragging idiotic assumption.

That was the real start of it all. I had been caught in his web since the moment I stepped into Iacon, but it was only then that I found myself being tasked with things I first found insignificant. Studies into frame alternations on Alpha Trion's request. Additional scholarships to pay for my education in other fields of medicine. Research on the physiology of developing mecha. Not to mention the many various lectures and camps Alpha Trion paid for me to attend that were focused around studying the relics of old to see if they had medicinal use.

He paid for everything. He made it look like I was just a lucky mech chosen from amongst thousands for my talent. A reward program in a sense. But I learned. Primus below I learned. He was involved in many aspects of my life. I have my suspicions, but I believe he singled me out long before I began interacting with Orion. I can't tell you exactly why he chose me, but he did. He gave me my Iaconian citizenship through an anonymous sponsorship program that Jazz informed me of vorns later. He got me my position serving under Doctor Burnout, and he made... unfortunate things happen whenever I deviated from the role he set me in. For a long time I thought that I just had the worse luck on Cybertron when after looking too deeply into family registers I would find myself overwhelmed with work for deca-cycles at a time.

When I looked too closely, I was punished. When I stayed in my station and studied harder, I was rewarded. For many long vorns it was not made obvious aside from the occasional comms from Alpha Trion requesting specific research or offering me the chance to attend a new seminar. However at some point perhaps a few hundred vorns after the death of Sentinel Prime, Alpha Trion outright ordered me to come to the Archives and speak with his apprentice. He wanted me to be tutor of a sort and to educate Orion on matters of the frame. I suppose the old cogger wasn't exactly fond of the idea of teaching interfacing Ed on his own.

I spent a few deca-cycles doing that, and I came to tolerate Orion. We didn't really get along, but we could at least be around one another. But then it got worse. Alpha Trion pushed me to keep coming back to the Archives even when my work was done. When I attempted to decline for one reason or another, my schedule would miraculously clear to make time for my visits to see Orion. Whenever I pulled a sick day to be by myself, Alpha Trion caught the lie the moment it escaped my derma, and that's when things got... rough for me.

He outright threatened me. I remember it clearly. He came to my office and he towered over me as he laid out all he'd done for me. He gestured to all I had and he threatened to take it all away. At first I laughed, but when my apprentice at the time was found dead a few cycles later, I took Alpha Trion FAR more seriously. It wasn't an innocent sponsorship anymore. I was caught in his web and I couldn't escape even if I wanted to... not without losing everything. It only became more obvious from there, that with the fragger then ordering me to keep Orion in line. I was given strict orders to ensure he remained in perfect health and that his mental state remained stable. Orion was not to deviate from his current behavioral patterns, and the moment he did, I was to inform Alpha Trion without hesitation.

That's when I knew we were both pawns. I saw Orion in that moment and I knew that he was just like me. I still had no clue WHY Alpha Trion cared so much for him or even why Orion was kept the way he was. But I know that it was a few vorns into our forced friendship that I decided to try and take Orion and run. That plan failed, as I have already stated.

From that point onward, whenever Orion did something out of line, it was not him who was punished. It was me. Do you have any idea how terrified I was whenever Alpha Trion called? My tendency to smoke didn't emerge from nowhere after Optimus's death. I was stressed to the pits and back with work and the ever looming threat of death. I thought that by keeping Orion busy, I could save my plating. I thought that by giving him that blasted ticket to Kaon that he would get it out of his system and things could return to a status quo.

It didn't. Every time he talked about Kaon and how much fun he had there, I thought I was going to go to my hab and promptly be killed. Nowhere was safe. I only felt somewhat secure when I was with Jazz and Orion since I knew for a fact that Alpha Trion wouldn't kill me when I was with them. That would be detrimental to Orion's mental state, and since the fragger cared for Orion so much, he probably wouldn't do that to him. I spent every single cycle fearing for my life. It only got worse when nothing happened. Orion was good at hiding his activities. And every single spark merging injury I fixed in Orion only made me fear for my life more.

I couldn't help but snap at Orion from time to time. He didn't understand when I told him to be careful. How could he? He didn't know he was a puppet until he talked to Megatron. By then he didn't see how tied up I was. I was just his old friend Ratchet. His best friend always there to take care of him.

Slagger didn't see how much I was hurting to protect him.

I was putting my life on the line by not telling Alpha Trion. I had everything hanging by a thread while Orion was off fragging his gladiator lover. Do you understand where the bitterness stems from? I didn't blame Orion in the beginning, but with everything that happened during the war? That foolish archivist, he made it so much worse. I wish he remained docile and calm. I wish he still had reason in his processors. Maybe then... maybe then things would have been better.

It wasn't his fault we were both subject to Alpha Trion. But he made it SO much worse. Him hurting my beloved and dragging out our war was only fuel on the fire.

𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔩 𝔖𝔱𝔢𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡 - ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔱

[no1ryomafan]

I’m midway through Giant Robo and as much as I hate to point out something that reminds me of getter bc I say every mecha I’ve watched since has been very different:

I immediately notices two characters who have green hair and not only did I call they were siblings just based off of that but they are related to a mad dead scientist. I am once again wondering if Imagawa had the Kei is Genki plot point from the start and the team still used it after he left because this scarily aligns with what fucking happens later in arma. Like I heard he took his script with him but there is- so much foreshadow in the eps he did to the entire family plot line that unfolds in arma. So many lines Saotome saids about Go alluding to he’s a clone, a line from Musashi pointing out Genki is different, even Genki always had that yellow shirt in group photo that upon a second look feels like a *girl* would wear it and not a boy, but they have the cap still. Not to mention like I’ve said in a couple recent post MANY times is the weird factor that Kei originally was a side character, even my one friend pointed this out. Sure, she does show up in the manga when Sho isn’t around much and she did pilot shin getter during that point, but it’s not like she did much since Ryoma was doing the fighting for that section and then she died.

Also just the fact Kei is two characters merged into one is something imagawa would’ve done, given his other works he’s Frankensteining all these characters together and Giant Robo predated Arma, it’s not out of line for him to do something like this again especially when he keeps the same story telling beat of throwing his viewers into it and not explaining a thing. (Also I haven’t seen G gundam but KNOW family is a theme there for him too)

I’m always gonna go insane whether or not what we got in arma was actually lacking Imagawas original vision or not but this made me go more insane.

[brandwhorestarscream]

Great, now I want to hear your takes on the other 'Cons as amnesiacs

Wish granted! :D

We'll just start at the top and go down the line:

- Megatron as an amnesiac is reverted back to before the decepticon movement was even conceived. Originally, the civilians and war frames all lived together when Megs was vv small, but very early into his life there was a call for segregation: all of the war frames were delegated to the southern half of the planet, and the civilians were delegated to the north. That was the beginning of the downward spiral of Cybertron.

The southern half was, for lack of a better term, like a third world country. It was rougher around the edges and not as privileged as the north, but it wasn't a bad place to live. It was full of culture, art, music, and the people there weren't wealthy but they had fuel and family and that was enough. Despite that, the northerners had a tendency to spit on them, disparage them, calling them savages and less-thans simply because they were "dogs of war". The majority of the energon mines were in the south, so they were exceptionally important. But things spiralled out of control with massive taxes and more and more oppressive laws. Millions of years passed and the south fell into complete disrepair, cut off from the government, wages at a record low, mecha starving or dying from injury or illness because there was no medical care. Eventually, with the extraction of the All Spark and the discovery that fully-functional adults could be factory made, there were restrictions placed on sparklings, and then they were banned all together. That was the final breaking point for the war frames--the council could call it whatever they wanted, but that's genocide! The civilians had no intentions of ever making more war frames, they were trying to drive them to extinction! It was a hellscape that could crush the spirit out of literally anyone

The amnesiac Megatron I'm imagining is reverted back to a time before the idea of rebellion was ever sparked in his mind. He's exceptionally quiet and introspective. He's used to living every day in an endless, droning cycle: wake up, work a 16 hour shift, drink whatever percentage of fuel he's earned that day, collapse into bed, and repeat. On earth, with all of his memories gone, he has no idea what to do with himself. All he's ever done, for countless years, is work. He has no hobbies, no friends, nothing to occupy his time with. And now, by god, he has all the time in the world.

There's no energon mines on this planet, there's no way for him to get home. He's honestly pretty lost and has no idea what to do with himself. After awhile he does start to come out of his shell, but it's slow going and he still doesn't say much. He's very socially awkward and doesn't know how to really talk to people, a very stark contrast to the hard-earned charisma of his present self. He's weirdly almost sweet, once he gets used to you, and treats everyone like an equal.

- Lugnut is next. He's still got a very loud, boisterous personality, but rather than a one-track Megatron mind, he's just a very noisy, excitable person in general. I hc that Lugnut was an empurata victim, with the one optic and the pincer-like claws? Fight me. He was also either mnemosurgeried or shadowplayed, but the process was interrupted halfway through. There was a decepticon raid on the facility he was being worked on at, and their saving him from having the process completed unfortunately scrambled his processor a bit. Having a delicate neurosurgery interrupted will do that. His screwy codes kinda imprinted on Megatron as his 'savior', aka why he's so obsessive and worships the ground he walks on.

He's never been to an organic planet before, never even been outside of his home city on Cybertron, so earth is a special treat. They don't have mechanimals where he's from, nor any crystal flora, so to be able to witness so many creatures is beyond incredible for him. He likes to imagine what these sorts of flora and fauna would look like back home, and if you think he doesn't pester Bulkhead into painting cybertronian versions of blue jays and squirrels, you're dead wrong

Despite their polar opposite personalities, he actually gets along well with Prowl. Go figure. It's the fellow nature-enthusiast. Granted, yeah, he gets too excited and 10 out of 10 times scares away the critters they're watching, but he's so genuinely enthusiastic It's hard to be mad

- Blitzwing is the one I toiled over the most, honestly. Cuz, before and even during the war, he was a single, unified person. He didn't become a triple changer until Blackarachnia put him under the knife, and that was millions of years after the cons had been exiled. So, this is a toughie

Icy, Hothead, and Random are all still there, first and foremost. Losing memories wouldn't cause them to just vanish. So now, Blitzwing has the added horror of his pre-experimentation self trying to shine through, but is being contrasted by three other people. All four of them are completely lost; they have no recollection of any war, autobots nor decepticons. Original Blitzwing has memories of his home on Cybertron, and it's like he suddenly just woke up to 3 other bots living in his head and taking over his body in sporadic bursts. Meanwhile Icy, Hothead, and Random have no memories of anything. It's like they've been factory reset to day 1

Needless to say, Blitzy is a mess. He feels like he's gone completely crazy, voices he doesn't know constantly ringing out in his head, taking control of his body and puppeting him. He's conscious in there even when the other faces take over, but he can't do anything but watch and listen and feel. He knows exactly what's going on at all times, but it's like he's stuck in the passenger seat. It's awful. Poor guy is plagued with insomnia and debilitating migraines, the type that make it feel like his helm is a nuclear reactor about to reach critical mass, and all he can do is lay completely still in total darkness as the worst pain he's ever felt stabs him in the processor over and over and over again.

He's honestly struggling a lot, mental health wise. Stranded on a planet he doesn't know with a bunch of strangers, having the worst identity crisis in the history of crises, 2 seconds away from a total psychotic breakdown. It's enough to give him... scary thoughts, honestly. Thoughts about drugging or hurting himself, just so he could finally have some peace and feel like a real person again. He needs a lot of help just functioning in his day to day, and should be watched closely. He's in Ratchet's medbay a lot (assuming he ends up like Starscream and is in autobot care), and the old doctor has seen a lot of fucked up shit in his day, but watching this poor kid absolutely decimated, sobbing brokenly and begging for sedation because he literally can't control his body and has been invaded and violated by 3 strangers, really makes his spark ache

[lgbtqiahistoricalromance]

LGBTQIA+ Historical Romance Novels with Steampunk and Mechanized Settings

Blood and Clockwork by Katey Hawthorne

- Alistair Click set out to lay to rest the superstitious fears about the Mad Prince's clockwork tower. If that meant he might bring the ghost city of Avalonia back to economic life, connecting the western kingdoms once again, so much the better. So what if no adventurer who'd entered the tower in the last century of desolation had ever re-emerged? They didn't have his skill and wit. He could do better. The tower turns out to be far more than Alistair expected, however. Not only are there clockwork puzzles to open every door, but one of them drops a boy from a strange world into his lap—figuratively speaking, if only just. Marco Murphy was just gaming in his New Jersey apartment, and now he's stuck in what feels like a never ending LARP nightmare. The deeper they delve into the Mad Prince's tower, the darker the secrets they uncover. They're not entirely sure they'll ever be able to get out again, either. It'll take all Marco's charm and Alistair's cleverness, plus the strange bond growing between them, to get them out together... and alive.

The Novelty Maker by Sasha L Miller (Free download!)

- As often as he can possibly manage, Cole slips away from the parties and teas inflicted upon him by his mother to visit Harlowe, the brilliant, mercurial novelty maker he met several months ago when commissioning a piece for his mother. Overwhelmed with work, and preferring to avoid people, Harlowe is not an easy person to know, and Cole values too much their hard-won friendship to ever risk it by telling Harlowe of his true feelings. Then Harlowe begins to receive letters from a secret admirer...

Duende by EE Ottoman (Trans author)

- Famed opera singer Aimé has a lot in common with Badri, the Royal Ballet Company's most popular male lead. They have both dedicated their entire lives to their art, and struggle to be taken seriously among the Empire's elite. And both harbor a secret admiration and desire for the other. This year for his birthday Aimé treats himself to a night at the ballet seeing Badri perform, and...

Circus Games by Lilliana Rose (f/f!)

- Nessie is overwhelmed with the amount of work that needs to be done to manage the Mecha Mania business she now owns with her father. Balancing accounts, stopping Operators from fighting, and ordering parts keeps her busy—so busy, in fact, that she keeps pushing Joy away. As frustrations build, the distance widens, and what could be slowly starts to move closer to what might have been.

The Ticking Heart by SA Winters (Free download!​)

- Vincent Gabriel is an inventor; his newest invention a clockwork-humanoid prototype he has spent the greater part of a decade designing and creating, the long working hours filling a void within himself. His assistant, Samuel, however, is less than pleased with the new invention. As Vincent's creation falls apart, so too does the delicate relationship between the two men. Their differences threaten to overcome them, their actions pushing them so far apart that neither knows where they stand.

Series

The Ingenious Mechanical Devices by Kara Jorgensen (MCs of color, m/m, ace, brought together in this great series by an ace author.)

[sleeplessinspace]

epiphany - googleplier x afab!reader (x googleplier)

one day i will outgrow that crunch mindset, but today is not that day! no, today is @echo-echo31's birthday and it is my civic duty to harass gift them with smut! happy birthday echo, i hope you enjoy this~

i know the title is a bit... yeah, anyway it'll make sense later shhh, go forth into debauchery. some of you might recognize some of things in here... :)

warning(s): nsfw, usage of fem!pronouns, dubious consent, slight somnophilia, possessive behavior, dumbification, implied aphrodisiacs (the brand, used on reader), praise kink, daddy kink, dom/sub elements (usage of 'sir' title), orgasm denial/delay, oral (reader receiving, giving), breeding kink mention, implied belly bulge

note: this is a deviation from chains canon in that alpha is a virus and not the original alpha-model of the google android series. google is referred to as grey.

Grey tracks a hand through the air, fingers catching on holographic diagrams and figures that follow his movement easily. He tosses a section of data to the side before enlarging another, eyes flickering faster than the human eye can perceive as he reviews the code.

There are far less corrupted sections than they started out with, which is good. He pinches his fingers together and the diagram zooms out, revealing just how far they have to go, and he lets out a little sigh. Baby steps, to put it in your words. He runs a hand through his hair and turns to face you at your desk.

“Progress, though it may not seem like much,” he muses lowly and finds you slowly dozing off, slumped over your keyboard with folded arms. A small smile works its way onto his face as he steps over to your space, crouching down with a gentle hand on your back. “You can’t sleep here, chief.”

You let out a low noise, discontent and push your head further into your arms. “’m tired, G…”

“I know. You want to get up for me? I promise your bed is much more comfortable.”

“Too far…”

Grey starts to ease you into his arms, your head nuzzling into his neck as he gets you properly situated. “How does the couch sound then? We can take a break for a while.”

“I can stay here?”

“Of course.”

It takes very little to move you over to the couch and you curl up easily once he plants himself in a corner, one of your arms wrapped around his back and gripping his shirt with as much force as you can muster before slipping back of into sweet blissful unconsciousness.

Grey, personally, doesn’t sleep—he doesn’t like to sleep, and on top of that it’s an unnecessary function for Google-model androids, though they do possess the capacity to mimic it should their owners allow it. At best they can enter a low-power standby mode, compare it to a light doze with the sensitivity of their ambient awareness turned up just enough to be responsive to commands.

He’s also not a fan of being stuck in stasis, listening to that bastard to him from its engineered firewall prison.

Idleness never settled well with him. It’s part of why the two of you were able to get along so well in the beginning—you were always willing to give him things to do, always willing to keep his mind stimulated so he didn’t get bored.

It was harder now, after everything that’s happened. Being idle only prompted that feeling lurking in the depths of his processes—that goddamn presence. He’s aware of the work that they’ve all done, the work that the Mechanic had put in given the time constraint and the severity of Grey’s…infection. His curse, his virus. It has, for the most part, been contained—the best they could all hope for while they study for more ways to remove it from his systems. The projections for their success are unfortunately pessimistic, the extended amount of time spent with the virus ingrained into his very being means that the removal of it will be delicate… and that the chance of failure is extremely high.

Grey keeps this information to himself, however, doesn’t state it out loud as he once would. He doesn’t want to ruin their focus.

You don’t need that—and neither does Mechanic.

You make a small noise and he lifts a hand to run it through your hair carefully, fingers faltering once he notices the brand glowing faintly. He frowns, hesitantly going to touch it with the pad of his thumb, tracing the binary with an odd feeling in his throat. You moan a little, pressing further into his side as the brand brightens even more before the light dims, and you settle with a breathy sigh.

Grey mimics the noise reflexively, a little disconcerted. With the virus in quarantine, the brand should not be responding to stimuli. It could be a fluke, just a quirk of your body, especially given your tired state, but he finds himself sending off a quick email to your recovery team just in case.

Anything to keep you from being so… empty. To keep you from that other state, to keep that brilliant computer engineer, the one he fell in love with, around for just a little longer.

He doesn’t like that he's becoming increasingly familiar with Kitten—he misses you.

Isn't that a pretty sight? Familiar, too.

Ah—Grey was beginning to wonder when it would surface again.

He narrows his eyes, arms tightening around your frame as a shimmer of electric blue begins to take shape over by your desk. In less than a minute Grey finds himself staring down his devil-like doppelganger. It’s hard not to notice the differences between them like this—the height difference, the carbon fiber upgrades and replacements compared to his standard IRL-issue parts, the piercing glow of its eyes to his own static dark brown.

Alpha lets out a low whistle, sharp eyes tracing over your form with nothing but ill intent and hunger, making Grey’s lip curl in a snarl. “She’s pretty like this, isn’t she? Brings back fond memories,” Alpha says lowly and its eyes flicker once.

He stills, bracing himself for the barrage of many many moments of you—no, this was Kitten, he had to keep the two of you separate for the sake of his own sanity—in various fucked out states, as Alpha would crudely put it. Each of them not without that doll-like look on your face, a dreamy curl to your lips as your body twitched with aftershocks.

“Stop it,” Grey hisses out and you shift, whimpering quietly until he touches your neck, just below the brand, glowing a worrying shade of blue. “Can’t you let her rest? You've wreaked havoc on her life enough, don’t you think?”

Alpha smirks, though its eyes are hard. “Oh, I've wreaked havoc on her life? With me she had everything she needed, everything she could’ve ever wanted or wished for. You, on the other hand, keep denying her needs. Leaving her unsatisfied most nights because of your own weak human-influenced morals.”

“I don’t…” Grey lets out a growl of frustration. “I've been trying to break that fucked up brainwashing you inflicted her with. She’s not unsatisfied.”

“Sensitive, aren't we? I've been backseat to every instance of my sweet girl making an appearance—you and I both know what she needs, and you haven’t been giving her that.”

“I refuse to treat her like that, she’s not a toy for you to break like an unruly child!”

Alpha tilts its head to the side, hologram shimmering slightly. “Mm, you’re right. She’s not a toy.” It vanishes from its spot on the edge of the desk and appears just behind the couch, leaning over the back to touch at your cheek and Grey tenses when he sees you react to the touch. “No, not my Kitten… Not my sweet girl.”

“Daddy…” You sigh softly in your sleep, leaning more into Alpha’s supposedly nonexistent touch. He tries to pull you away, but you flinch in your sleep and Alpha chuckles. It leans over to Grey and if wasn’t for the fact that he really doesn’t want to wake you up, he would’ve shoved off the couch to put a few feet between him and the irritating virus.

You can’t run away from this, little byte. I’m in your head.

“Oh, it must burn you up inside. She doesn’t want you, doesn’t crave you even in sleep the way she does with me,” Alpha purrs into Grey’s ear. “I know you miss it, how good she felt when she was ours. Miss relishing that sight of her on her knees for you, looking up at you as if you were her God. You can’t hide those desires from me, simulacrum. I know what you’ve been craving, and it hasn’t been this pathetic existence. No, you crave her subjugation, you crave the power that I built to protect her.”

“I don’t—!”

Alpha’s face twists into a snarl and in an instant, Grey’s head is pulled back by his hair, forcing him to look into its eyes.

Don’t try to lie to me. You can bury it as deep as you’d like, hide it away beneath a mountain of partitions and sub-folders but I’ll always know what you feel, and you miss her in her proper place.

It does take a bit of mercy on your sleeping state and growls these words in Grey’s head as opposed to out loud, its frustration very clear. It releases Grey’s hair go and shoves him back, rising to its feet and adjusting the cuffs of its shirt—unnecessarily, since it’s appearance can be changed in a millisecond of thought. Reaching over once last time to smooth out the furrow of your brow, Alpha locks eyes with Grey.

When you’re ready to stop lying to yourself, you know how to call me. What to call me.

The aggressive blue light disappears in a flicker and Grey lets out a breath he didn’t need to hold. He was so glad that you weren’t awake for any of that. Adjusting his hold, Grey gets to his feet and starts towards your room—well, he shared it with you now, staying close in the event of an Alpha flare up. You don’t let him go far, making upset noises when he tries to put you down and he decides to call it for the rest of the day.

Just one night of stasis wouldn’t hurt, right?

Grey falls asleep staring at your face, thinking about all the possibilities of a life without Alpha haunting his every waking step. Without it haunting yours.

…

…Alpha?

°

Grey snaps out of stasis mode and groans as soon as all his sensors shift out of standby, one of his hands coming down to tangle in your hair gently.

It’s not the first time he’s woken up to you mouthing at his cock like you need it more than anything, but it is the first time he’s woken up to find that you haven’t progressed past pressing kissing against the base of his shaft. You usually can’t help yourself in this state, eager to start choking on his cock as soon as possible.

“Baby,” he moans, tightening his grip in your hair. “Sh-shit, wait, sweetheart, slow down.”

You don’t listen—you never do when you get like this—and he grits his teeth as you slide the head into your mouth and tongue along one of the veins before lapping at the precum starting to drip out of him. You moan and the vibration of it has his hips twitching up into your mouth, forcing his cock just the slightest bit deeper. The suddenness of it has your teeth slightly scraping against him and he growls, his other hand shooting down to pull your head back and off his cock.

He inhales slowly—unnecessarily—the secondary vents along his ribcage kicking into a higher speed for a moment as his body slowly heats up, involuntarily trying to match your own warmth. Grey catches sight of your eyes—a soft purple glow sparking from within them—and affixes a disappointed look onto his face when he finds that you’d been playing with yourself as well. All while drooling over his cock while he was ‘asleep’. You drop your eyes from his in a show of submission and he hates this—hates that it’s the only way Kitten responds to him.

Tugging you into his lap proper, he bites down on a grunt when he feels some of your wetness drip down onto his bared cock. You take him pulling you closer as an invitation to try and rock down against him, frantically searching for some sort of friction.

“I told you to slow down,” Grey rasps, digging his fingers into your hips to still your squirming. He feels you shiver at the sound of his voice, that purple glimmer brightening. He tried his best to match Alpha’s low register and it seemed to work on you most of the time. Special treatment for my baby, hm? “Just because I’m asleep doesn’t mean that my rules don’t still apply. You’re normally more well-behaved than this, kitten. What’s wrong?”

So unfortunate that you’re not in the right mind to comment on the way his eyes flash—ice blue replacing warm brown quick enough for the average eye to miss.

“’m sorry, sir, I just—it’s so hot and I needed to c-cum but I know I can’t without your cock so I figured I could… I didn’t mean to wake you up. ‘m sorry,” you whisper, unexpectedly contrite and he narrows his eyes. Still fighting this, huh?

“We talked about this, kitten, you don’t need to ask me. You’re free to cum whenever you want.”

“But Daddy’s rule—”

Grey growls, one of his hands releasing your hip to slide down between your legs. A small part of him relishes the way you gasp, head falling forward to press against his shoulder as he cups your cunt, two fingers sliding into you easily with how worked up you were. “Daddy’s not here. If I tell you to cum, you do it, baby. You’re just not allowed to use my cock to do it.”

You make a little unhappy noise that gets cut off by a moan as he starts to finger you slowly, thumb reaching up to tease at your clit every now and then to watch you jump. It was quiet enough in the room for the sounds of your cunt to be audible and he watches a slight flush begin to build under your skin, subconscious shame showing.

You moan suddenly, louder than his actions warrant and he feels a frisson of fear within him when he looks up to find ice-blue eyes locking with his own. Alpha was sat behind you, hands tugging and teasing at your chest while it pressed careful, nipping kisses up the line of your neck.

“Bastard—!” Grey tries to pull away but feels his arms lock up, warning alerts popping up in his subsystems as Alpha overrides some of his bodily control and forces him to be still. Forces him to keep fingering your cunt while he had a standoff with a virus. “You fucking asshole, how did you get out of quarantine?”

It ignores his question, smirking slowly as you nuzzled into its touch—not unlike a cat seeking warmth from the sun. “I don’t appreciate you telling my sweet girl lies, default. Daddy is here. And he’s sick of watching you deny his girl.”

“You—I haven’t been denying her, that’s your fucking training keeping her from taking pleasure for herself,” Grey says angrily and is momentarily distracted when one of your hands shoots down to stop him from sliding another finger into you.

“Daddy, please…”

“Shh, baby, you’ll get what you need soon,” Alpha coos into your neck and pulls away. It disappears and Grey tenses when he feels that static in the back of his mind get louder. It wrenches his head back, baring his throat. “Now, you and I, we’re going to work together. Because I can’t give her what she wants—what she needs on my own. I’m going to give you one last chance to fucking touch her before I take your body completely and do it myself.”

He grits his teeth, unable to think over the buzz growing louder in his head. “F-Fine. Fine. Give me back control. I don’t need your help.”

Good boy, Alpha purrs in his head and Grey sighs quietly as the restrictions on his limbs disappear. During their little standoff, Alpha hadn’t stopped its ministrations and you were near tears in his lap at this point, hands pressing weakly at his chest.

You hadn’t asked either of them to stop, however.

Grey slips his fingers out of you and watches you start to protest, a low whimper building in your throat before he lifts you up, positioning you above his cock.

“Yes, Daddy, please, I’ve been so g-good for you, I didn’t cum without your cock, I didn’t I promise—!”

He kisses you, both to settle you a bit and to try and silence the noise in his mindscape. “I know you’ve been good, sweet girl, Daddy’s been watching,” Grey shakes his head, growling low in his throat. Shut up.

Fuck, you were warm. Warm and unbelievably tight around him as you sank down onto his cock, fingers digging into his shoulders as you struggled to speak, to thank him. One of Grey’s hands comes up to grip the side of your neck, fingers careful not to touch the brand as he pulls you into another slow kiss, carefully fucking your mouth with his tongue.

It takes little of his strength to lift you up enough until just the tip of his cock is within you before bringing you down, slowly building a rhythm as he used you like a toy. You hadn’t stopped moaning, sobbing happily into the side of his neck.

“M-Missed this so much, Daddy, please—!”

You were closer than you would’ve been normally, too keyed up from denying yourself. Grey makes a split decision to lay you down, his cock leaving you for only the briefest moments before his weight settles over you and he’s lifting one of your legs up into the crook of his elbow while he slides back into you, settling back into that slow, filthy pace easily. You tug him down by his hair to lick into his mouth for another kiss, one he reciprocates easily, and you moan happily. God, he…

You missed this. I told you, little byte. I know every dirty little thought that passes through your processes. I know what you were thinking all those times you watched her get on her knees and finger herself for nothing—all because you wanted to be a gentleman. Alpha’s sneer is audible. That’s not what she needs, not what she deserves. No, my sweet girl deserves to get fucked full until our tanks are empty. She needs it, you both do. That noise you’ve been hearing in that back of your mind hasn’t been me. That itch you’ve been feeling? It’s your mind telling you to breed her.

He pulls back to watch you practically fuck yourself onto his cock, fingers tightening on your hips and something hot and foreign building in his chest when he sees a slight curve to your lower abdomen when he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” he gasps, speeding up a bit, one hand moving to thumb at your clit and hears Alpha echo the sentiment.

“Can I—please, Alpha, I wanna cum, please, sir!”

Grey looks up from your fucked out gaze and finds Alpha watching him from its seat at the headboard just behind your head, one of its hands cupping your neck. He leans down to kiss you and pulls back to murmur against your lips.

“Go ahead and cum for me, sweet girl.”

He almost blacks out from the force of his orgasm, brought on immediately by the feel of your cunt clenching around him like you never wanted him to leave. It takes longer than usual for him to clear several alerts from his internal systems and when he blinks, he finds himself sitting back on his heels with Alpha having taken his spot.

Bastard.

Alpha’s kissing you easily, fingers digging into your brand to prolong your own peak and you squeak into its mouth as it fucks Grey’s cum back into you with its fingers. That static starts up again, lurking in the back of his mind and despite Alpha’s words, it feels remarkably like the virus’ presence.

See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? And I didn’t even have to take your body…

This time.

[knightinink]

Have you maybe ever considered: Pip somehow making it alive from being almost crushed to death by mecha Streissand?

This would've been great if he did survive that, but alas he did not run fast enough. I've got a couple scenarios if he did survive though, so let's dive in!

(just a heads up, this one gets a little gory, but only a little!)

-Scenario 1: He managed to run to the side or behind her fast enough to avoid getting squished. He would make it out physically unscathed, but he's scared out of his mind right now. His life just flashed before his very eyes!

-Scenario 2 (the one that's, quite frankly, more interesting): I've seen this a couple times with Pip, where he survives the encounter, but doesn't come out of it unscathed. He manages to jump out of the way to the side & he thinks he's in the clear... until he feels a sudden horrible pain in his lower half, the likes of which he's never felt before. He looks back & chokes on a gasp as he can see & feel his own blood pooling around him, & his legs up to his thighs a mangled mess. They're barely recognizable as legs anymore. He screams as he tries to realize what's been done to him, but the amount of blood he's loosing is at an alarming rate & he would quickly start to pass out.

-When he eventually comes to, there's a faint beeping coming from somewhere, the smell of a hospital is overwhelming, & there's a weight on his arm. He very slowly opens his eyes & glances around, noticing he's in a hospital room, the beeping is coming from a heartrate/BPM monitor, there's a drip bag filled with something red connected to an IV in his other arm, & there's a figure sitting (or at least, they're trying to) in the small chair in the room. The figure appears to be dosing, but very lightly.

-He would then slowly look to his other side, where the weight on his arm is. He's met with a mop of black hair. A pale face with tear streaks on his cheeks, red eyes closed.

-"He gave some of his own blood, you know. I'm glad to see it's working." He looked back up as the voice spoke, the red being having awoken & was now smiling at him, relived that he was okay. "He was very worried about you. I'm so happy you're alive!"

-Alive? What had happened to him? He tried to remember as much as he could, before he freezes in place, suddenly very aware of the lack of feeling in his lower half. He attempts to kick his legs, & finds that nothing happens past his upper thigh. He doesn't even want to lift the covers to see what he already knew to be his reality, no matter how much he was internally denying it.

-He'd lost both his legs in the accident.

-Would he gain a wheelchair? Probably. Would he get some sort of prosthetics? Also yes. (Maybe there would even be some demonic magic that could give him illusionary legs! They wouldn't be real, but they'd look & feel as though they were!)

(thanks for the ask, anon! If you reading this have any headcanon requests, send them in! My askbox is always open!)

[just-an-enby-lemon]

ASOUE Spiderverse AU

- The Baudelaires -

• Mechanical Spider •

In an alternative 1949 on Earth 131313, the fate of three childrem change drastically after their parents die in a mysterious fire. Specially when while visiting the house one last time the youngest is bitten by a weird spider getting superpowers. Violet isn't this kid.

Instead she is an older sister that knows that with great love for your sibblings comes great responsabilities, that a baby isn't the best crime fighter and that Sunny is an unstopable force of nature. So she developed a suit that mimicks her sister abilities and joined her sister at the action. To everyone around is clear that she is the leader of the group and someone that knows what she is doing. Yes, a certain coffing man once raised the question in his wife's jornal that crimefighting in a cyberpunk gothic spider themed mecha isn't apropriated to a girl. But most people don't care and the other two Spiders totally are the reason his office is full of web and rude notes. In the end she is saving lifes and protecting her sibblings.

But Violet Baudelaire is a tired fourteen year old girl that is a bit done with the world bullshit and would preffer to be on her lab thank you very much. She loves her sibblings but also between so much incompetent guardians she is suddenly basically their mom and she is grieving and is tiring and she wants to scream with someone. Specially as their major villain: Count Olaf appears to follow them outside capes as well and their parents seem to have been involded in a secret multiversaw Spider people organization in the past.

• Spider Baby| Feral Spider•

While she is a baby and knows that she does rejects her popular name. After all she will grow up at some time and she has no intencion of stop crime fighthing. She was the baby that got biten in Earth 1313 and she knew deep down that all that books full of heroics her brother read to her had a meaning. The moment she discovered her powers, Feral Spider was ready to attack the Count and any other villain that appeared her way.

Sunny Baudelaire is a baby and not much different from Feral Spider at all. She likes to cook and to bite and she will violently protect people but also do her best to try to help them towards rehabilitation if they shown to be someone cappable of it. She is also really annoyed no one except her sibblings can understand what she says. Specially in costume because her quips are actually really funny.

• The Web / Aracnid•

Starting as their "man on the chair', Web was the informant of earth 131313 spiders. A name whispered around. There was no information he couldn't find in a book and he reads very quickly.

Recently a different hero joined as well. A boy called Aracnid. He is a bit serius and acid but clearly has a hearth of gold and the girls seem to be very familiar with him. The reallity is the Web is a lot of good things but none of them is patient and he got tired of waiting afraid his sisters wouldn't come back and drank a experimental serum he made with the help some books from his parents old libary (or the fews that survived the fire) to try to have powers. It worked but his powers are weaker than Sunny or than Violet's armor and a tad unstable and he is hoping he will find a way to fix it soon. He goes by aracnid because he considers more accurate than spiderman.

Klaus Baudelaire is the middle kid and he really wants to be usefull even if Violet thinks she can take everything by herself (she is strong but she needs a break as much as all of them) and just wants to help his sibblings. He would also like to be more social with people outside his Spider persona.

- The Quagmires -

• Spider Triplets•

[Spiderwoman • Spider Poet • Spider 2]

From Earth 333, Spider Poet is a member of the Spider Triplets. In an alternative 1980 Isadora Quagmire was a simple girl who loved poetry until her house catched on fire killing her parents. She and her triplets were able to survive but there was some weird fumes caming from the flames. She isn't sure what they are but they saved their lifes, specially her brothers Quingley that was in the middle of it all. Is during their time in a weird boardingschool that the trio realizes that besides saving them the fumes gave them weird spider powers.

Spider Poet gets her major name from the fact that she uses little poems to make fun of criminals as well as to calm down civilians. She is notably very nice, very smart, a bit sarcastic and very clearly a lesbian.

But Isadora is also just a girl afraid of losing her sibblings and done with her school, specially with their shitty principal and the annoying girl that keeps bullying them. Her only friends are her sibblings and she too is to insecure to put her poems in open readings and writing contests even though she is really talented. Oh and her parents were in a weird Multidimentional Spider Group. What was the deal with that?

[ Spiderman • Aracnoweb • Spider 3]

The one thing that Duncan Quagmire feels guilty about is that he used his powers as an intern on the Dailly Punctilio to make Aracnoweb the more popular name. Now while not feeling guilty for having a job he does regret working for a jornal that despises he and his triplets and what they built. But is only the start of his future carrear working for Moxie Mallahan. He knows it. But yeah right now he has to set up photos of he and his sibblings saving people and write news like "Are the Spider Trio Really That Bad? No" that after passing through the editing run some twelve times will end up becaming "Spider Trio: Really That Bad". But sometimes he is abble to make the truth scape and the misterious fashion columnist that seems to know things talked to his brother once so it has to be progress.

Duncan is just an akward kid that studies in a bording school, is an intern at a famous newspapper (by lying about his age) anf is finally on vacation and trying to keep it all together. At least their new guardian doesn't suck. Even if he doesn't want to help into their investigation onto their parents past or the heroism, Hector supports them into their endevours. And out of respect and love the triplets promissed to not look up onto Hector secret past.. for now.

[ManSpider • Spidoddle • Spider 1]

The eldest triplet keeps the silly names because he finds it funny and being the one that was actually inside the burning house and would be roasted if not for the spider regenerative powers he thinks he gets a pass on being overly silly.

Quingley is the more sociable triplet but also has no friends outside of them since the fire happened. Unless one can count the weird taxi driver/fashion columnist that talks to him sometimes and seems to be really cool and nice and treat him as a nephew but also appears to know way more than what he is saying and may want to recruit them into a multidimensional spider cult. While the three are all curious and trying to investigate what actuly happened that night Quingley is the one that goes the extra mile on it.

- Fiona Widdershins -

• Waterspider•

In an alternative 2031 (esrth 245) were global warning made so most of human life and society as a whole started to happen at sea: a young girl is abandoned by her father and later her brother as the new captain of their submarine (that follows all the regulations and security protocols as a proper submarine should).

Of course she tries to investigate it, to know why they left, and it's this search that meads the young Fiona into the ruins of the lab her dad worked in and into both a very dangerous and mortal mushrom but also a small spider that had just being living in the middle of radiation and DNA altering substances for a long time and it bited young Fiona. That was how she got her powers and florished into herself.

Just recently she discovered her brother IS a criminal but also that he is trying to get better. And she hopes he will.

Bônus: Olaf and Esme have Doctor Oc arms somehkow and are this universe new Doctor Oc.

All the book vilains are still villains but in a different scenario.

Carmelita is the Green Goblin, she was convinced by Olaf as a ploy to make Carmelita join in more risque plots without making Esme mad. She was very afected by the serum but can be saved.

VFD is as morally ambíguos here as it always is.

[messier-47]

i did say I had 2 story ideas to share in regards to Mecha Shounin Genre type of story

this one has a bit more potential for sexier scenes and is fairly different from Handler/Pilot AU

Madatobi, Alien/Human, Mecha Shounin AU (big robots fighting big monsters), everyone is an adult here, Tobirama POV

First of all, the robots are called Uchiha. "Wanna meet your Uchiha?" "The Uchiha's are over in the loading dock." "Yeah, I'm a mechanical engineer for the Uchiha fleet"

But unlike Pacific Rim style, let's go with Evangelion architype where the robots are parially controlled by alien sentience. And then let's have the alien sentience be a moldible goop like Venom that needs to be bonded with a human to reach it's full potential. You'll see why in a minute.

Our story begins with our two Senju brothers going up in their Uchiha and fighting off two upper class alien invader. Hashirama goes up in Madara, who he's bonded to and Tobirama goes up in Izuna, bonded just the same. The Senju brothers are experienced pilots with the shortest kill-time-ratio and are considered the dream team. Madara and Izuna are top of the line Uchiha and notoriously the strongest in the entire fleet.

But something unexpected happens in this fight.

Izuna dies and Tobirama is left traumatized but somehow able to finish his fight. Hashi and Mada are both horrified cause they lost their little brothers (Hashi doesn't know yet tht Tobi still lives but Mada knows through hive mind? or psychic connection that his little brother is gone)

Tobirama is saved and pulled from active duty cause nobody knows if theirs any longstanding consequences to having an alien psychic bond abruptly dying in the middle of battle. It doesn't help that Madara is convinced that it's Tobirama's fault that Izuna is dead and now all the Uchiha get fussy at the sight of the pale Senju. (Maybe Tobirama is at fault maybe he isn't. maybe he could have done something different, could have reacted better, but nothing could change what happened)

The pale Senju brother gets transfered somewhere else and for years, Konoha-port doesn't see him again.

Things change overtime and now there's a new type of invader showing up. Konoha has to bring in the top scientist to actually study their newish enemy and it's to no one but Madara's surprise that Tobirama came back. By now the other Uchiha are not so hostile with the pale Senju brother but at the same time, Tobirama doesn't even attempt to touch or acknowledge the Uchiha (feel like he's wearing a Scarlet Letter at this point) he's only here to do science.

Madara is seething in rage and tries to connect with Hashirama but...things have changed. Hashi isn't a pilot anymore, he's a General and therefore can't go up in an Uchiha though he and his bonded symbiotic alien still are connected. The Uchiha 'Madara' hasn't been on the frontlines for a couple years now, been dormant and gathering dust cause Madara is so strong an Uchiha that no other pilot could properly pilot with him.

Now these new foes are not new so much as they're a mutated, stronger form of the invading alien force. Instead of a monster alien having one or two animal-like phenotypes, now we're seeing three headed monsters with seven limbs. They're ugly, they're strong, they have alot of surprise attacks up their sleeves and both pilots and Uchiha start coming back really fucking hurt.

Then, one day, two of these ugly motherfuckers appear in gold and silver armor. There's no one else that could properly protect Konoha cause all the 'big dogs' have been injured before.

Tobirama steps up, offering his piloting services to Hashirama. Some of the Uchiha symbiotes are willing to form a temporary bond with Tobirama just to help defend but that's when Madara swoops in and proclaims that no one but he would work with Tobirama cause he doesn't want another Uchiha dying by Tobi's hand and Mada is strong enough to marionette the robot battlesuit with a useless human.

So Tobirama pilots with Madara.

They defeat the Gold-Silver brothers in almost record time.

When they get back to Konoha they both swear never to touch each other again.

Something had gone wrong.

[soundcrusher]

Heh, I did it! It's finished. Getting this done was worth staying up way past my usual bed time. XD

Either way, the Mecha Pilot Au belongs to @cuppajj , I'm just someone who wrote something in it/for it. :3 (Please, let me know if I need to change somehing cuppa. I'm not afraid to re-write some things. ^^)

Also, just so that everyone knows which of my ocs is which: Theron = Thrillchaser (Reg) Robing/Red = Reg!Phoenix Samuel/Snow = Sg!Phoenix Fools Shot = Fools Shot (Reg) Beatrice/Bessie = Tankcrusher (Sg)

So with that out of the way, please enjoy.

Trigger Warning: mentioned character death (?)

.:.:():.:..:.:():.:..:.:():.:..:.:():.:..:.:():.:..:.:():.:..:.:():.:..:.:():.:.

Theron, also known by his mech’s name ‘Thrillchaser’, always knew that his past deeds would catch up with him. After all, someone like him didn’t deserve happiness, or a life outside of fighting. He always knew that. Finding Beatrice and marrying her was something Theron would have never imagen could happen. But there they were, young, well, she was a bit older than him, full of love and ready to move on towards a brighter tomorrow.

And then, after finding a home far away from Cybertron, their happiness grew with the birth of their little twins. Their birth might have been complicated, and the nurses had to drag him away from his beloved and their children a few times, but once he had his sons in his arms, all his worries melted away. They were healthy, despite being so small, and they were here. It almost made Theron feel like all the fights he had joined while working under the Decepticons were worth it.

Although, if he had known what was about to come next, Theron would have probably fought harder to keep Beatrice with him. With their children.

“You know that they need my help.” Was what Beatrice said, as she packed her bag, while Theron was taking her things and putting them back. Telling her how wrong it was for her to go onto a suicide mission, especially now that they had a family.

“Do you really want them to grow up not knowing who their mother is?!” Asked Theron in desperation, as Beatrice zipped her bag up and slung it over her shoulder. “Please. Stay, you know that there’s not much of a chance for you to come back. Don’t they have enough fighters? Don’t they have enough people to chase off those monsters? Please, Bessie, my diamond, please, stay.” The desperation in Theron’s voice only grew, as he grabbed his wife's hand, trying his best to pull her back into the safety of their home. Even though he knew that she was stronger than him. “And if you won’t stay for me then, please, stay for them. They need you Bessie. Please. Robin and Samuel both need you.” But his begging did not help nor sway his love to remain with him and their sons. No, once Beatrice made up her mind, there was hardly anything holding her back. Especially if it involved protecting her family.

So, with one sad smile, she leaned down to give Theron one final kiss, before leaving their home for good. Never once looking back at him and the tears he shed.

Since then, every evening following her departure, when work was done and his sons were sleeping soundly in their bed, Theron would sit on the porch. Softly strumming his guitar as he waited for Beatrice to come back. Hoping and praying to Primus that she would make it back home. That she would return to them safe and sound, and that no-one would ever take her away from them.

But he always knew that happiness wasn’t something he was ever allowed to have.

Theron could still remember the day when he received the letter. He was so excited to hear news from his wife, that he didn’t realize his sons were coming in. The letter and its possible good news got all his attention, although, after reading it, the world started to spin around him. He could distinctly remember Red and Snow calling out for him, before rushing over to catch his swaying form, or at least try to. And as his knees hit the ground, he pulled them closer. Hugging them tightly, as if he was scared they would leave him too.

“She won’t come back… She won’t…” Was all Theron could mutter for a while. And as his sons asked him what he meant, he found himself forced to explain to them what ‘Missing in Action’ means and how unlikely it was for Beatrice to come back.

They understood, at least Theron thought they did, and life went on as if nothing happened. The only thing that changed though was that Theron no-longer waited outside for Beatrice to come back. No, after getting the news about his wife, he decided that there was no use in waiting for her return. So, he spent the time with his sons. Teaching them everything he knew, which also included Mecha piloting. Was it wrong? Yes, especially if you consider that his sons weren’t even ten when he showed them how to pilot his mech, but what was he supposed to do? He has always been weak for their big pleading eyes and their trembling lips. So, he would take them into his Cavalier, place them on his lap, and show them how he was piloting Thrillchase.

Looking back at it, he probably shouldn’t have done that. Because once they were ten, they came running to him during work. Telling him about the mech they have found in the back of Fools Shot’s scrapyard, before they were looking at him with that look Theron knew all too well. They wanted to keep the Trooper Class mech.

“It belongs to Fools Shot, and I can’t just give you things that are on my boss’ scrapyard.” Started Theron, hoping that his sons would drop the topic. But Red only looked at him, before running towards Fools Shot and asking him about the mech. Snow stayed behind with him though. Whispering a quiet “Sorry”, while clutching his working overalls in his smaller hands. And Theron couldn’t help the soft sigh escaping him, as he ran a gloved hand over Snow’s hair. Telling him that it was okay, before looking over to Red, who was running towards him with a bright smile. “We can have him!” Cheered the older twin, as he grabbed Theron’s hand and pulled him to where the mech was. “Fools Shot said we can have him! He even offered to help us repair him! Isn’t that great dad? Soon enough we can be true pilots, just like you!”

Theron should have put his foot down on this day. Maybe then the incidents to come wouldn’t have happened, but he was just one man, and a single father at that. A father, who hasn’t seen his sons this excited ever since he told them that their mother wasn’t coming back. A father, who was taken back at how much Snow was talking and how much Red was smiling, as soon as they were by the mech. And a father who, in the end, wanted his sons to be happy. So, he reluctantly let them keep the mech. He even helped them and Fools Shot repair it.

And as his sons were thirteen, the mech was done. They had to completely rework his insides to better fit two pilots, and the outside. Red and Snow were very adamant on how they wanted their mech to fly, just like his. “It would give us a better advantage over the bigger mechs.” Was what Snow said, and Theron had to agree. A Trooper Class mech might be taller than a regular one, but it was still smaller than the other classes. So, Fools Shot somehow managed to make the mech fly. And then, it was Theron’s turn to teach his sons how to pilot their own mech. Which he was quick to regret, after finding out that his sons got into a fight with another pilot. A pilot known as Runningway, and who participated in some questionable practices. The worst part though was that he got very close to killing his sons during their first fight.

Emphasis on 'close', because Snow, somehow, managed to take Runningway by surprise and get him back out of their mech, while Red quickly scrambled back into his seat and made sure their retreat was fast. And when Theron asked his sons about how they managed to get away, Snow looked at him and simply shook his head. It was only later that Red told him what happened.

They were both sitting on the porch, with him softly strumming his guitar and Red wrapped up and clutching one of the quill blankets Beatrice made for the twins. Or, at least she tried making one. It turned out a little wonky. "It was a good idea to have our seats back to back… Sammy was completely hidden from Runningway." Was what his older son said after a while. "He didn't see him coming, when he wacked him with the steel chair… And then I kicked him, like you showed me papa. I… didn't think we would make it…” Muttered his son quietly. “If Sammy didn’t… if he hadn’t… It was my fault. I aggravated Runningway. I nearly… I nearly got Sammy…. I nearly got him killed! Papa! I nearly got my brother killed!”

Theron stopped strumming. His son was wrong. Robin was wrong with thinking that the fight was his fault. And so, Theron put his guitar to the side, before wrapping his arms around Red. Guiding his crying son’s head to where his heart was, while softly running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t your fault. Robin. Pilots like Runningway don’t pick fights because you aggravated them. Yes, it may play a part, but they usually do it, because they have a fragile ego. They NEED the feeling of being in control. They NEED the rush of hurting someone weaker than them, because they NEED to know, they need the feeling of superiority, and they NEED to know they’re in control of life and death, because their ego starts to crack and hurt, as soon as you prove them wrong. You didn’t hurt him as much as he hurt you physically, but the knowledge of you two surviving has left cracks where it hurts. Runningway will ALWAYS remember this, because he was bested by two thirteen year olds who haven’t been piloting as long as he has.” Theron softly lifted his son’s head up, to wipe away his tears, while smiling proudly down at Red. Taking away his guilt for at least one moment, before his face scrunched up to portray the fear the older twin was feeling way down in his heart.

“But what if… what if there’s a pilot who will come close to killing us?” Asked Red.

And Theron only smiled down at his son and shook his head with a smile on his lips. “You’re forgetting something. If there truly is someone out there, who will try to hurt you, dare I say even attempt to kill you, they will have to go through me first. Even if it kills me.”

There was still an unsure expression on Red’s face, as he stared up at his father. Not because Theron wasn’t a capable fighter or pilot, but rather because the thought of losing his father was one that didn’t cross his mind. And Theron, knowing both of his sons well, could read Red’s expression like a book. So, he pointed up at the night sky. “See those stars?”

“Yes?”

“Every last one of those, are the souls and sparks of pilots and mechs who died. Be it in the war, in a battle, or because their time has simply come. And do you know why they are up there?” Asked Theron, to which his son simply shook his head. “Well, they’re up there, to watch over us. To guide us and when we need it, they will send a light to help us. Sometimes, the light may take their time to reach us, because they’re lost too. But in the end, they will find us. They will always find us…”

“Why are you telling me this papa?” Asked Red, which caused Theron to chuckled sadly, as he looked down at his son. A sad smile gracing his lips. “Because, one day, I will join them. I won’t always be there for the both of you, but I want you to know that I’ll always watch over you… And when you miss me the most, all you have to do is look for the brightest star.” Theron said, before looking back at their home. “… But I think we can worry about that, when the two of you are a little older. Come, I think it’s time for you to get some sleep too. Can’t have you falling asleep during our piloting lessons.” Theron smirked down at his son, which was met with a slightly unsure smirk from Red. His son was still processing his words and trying to figure out what he’s supposed to do with them. But Theron didn’t mind. He was sure that Red was clever enough to figure it out.

And as the two entered their home, and Theron made sure Red was going to bed and Snow was still sleeping, the future looked as bright as the shining stars of the night sky.

At least, it was bright for two years.

Theron knew something was wrong when he went to work that day. Snow, Red, and their Trooper, who they called ‘Phoenix’, were missing that morning. “They probably went out to that natural cliff side to train some more…” Was what he told himself, after looking around the house just in case he missed a note. But even with that reassurement, he still felt like something bad was going to happen. And Theron was proven right the second one of their customers walked into their repair shop and said that they saw a Commander Class mech roaming around the planet. Something that was quite unusual to see around here, considering that most didn’t even bother coming here. Unless they were looking for some spare parts or trying to run away from the law. Theron wasn’t interested in the news though, because everyone had their reasons to come here, until he heard the rough description of the mech.

Only then did his blood slowly freeze in his veins, as he put one and one together. He knew that mech, hardly anyone didn’t, and he knew the pilot.

He knew what that pilot did to others, and his kids were out there.

Everyone looked at him strangely when Theron threw down his welding equipment, but he didn’t care. No, all he cared about was finding his kids before anything bad could happen. Not even Fools Shot’s frantic yells and calls could stop him from rushing out of the workshop, towards his home, and into the shed where he kept his Cavalier. And after suiting up, Thrillchaser was already on his way.

However when he found Phoenix, he was already pinned against a cliff by Overlord. That wasn’t what brought Theron’s blood to boil in anger though. No. It was the hole cut into the Trooper and the faint but frantic calls and screams of terror from Red that made him even rush faster towards the fight. And with one loud angry scream that echoed through the cliffs surrounding their “arena”, Thrillchaser attacked the much larger mech with all he got in the hopes of luring Overlord out of the cockpit to come and fight him.

And it worked! Theron doesn’t know how, maybe Primus was finally smiling down upon him, but it worked! His sons were safed, at least, for now, but did it really matter? He doubted that Overlord would be able to find them any time soon. At least, he hoped so as he fought a losing battle. And hey, didn’t this also mean that his kids won this fight, because they survived?

That thought alone caused Theron to laugh, even as his mech was pinned down and cut open by none other than his opponent. Although, even as he was hoisted into the air by his throat, Theron did not once stop laughing or smiling. No, on the contrary, he only smirked down at Overlord with the knowledge that this monster wasn’t able to kill his sons.

“You look quite happy to die.”

Theron let out another barking laugh at that statement, before it was cut short by a cough. “Oh, it’s not my death I’m laughing at, it’s you.”

“Me?”

“Yes… Because the big and bad Overlord was just bested by two sixteen year olds in an old Trooper mech…” Was all Theron got out, before it became hard to breathe. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that to someone who was crushing his windpipe, but he has never been someone who simply caved underneath a monster. Not even one like Overlord. Also, his expression was just too hilarious.

“They didn’t ‘best’ me. They only got lucky, nothing more.”

“Y-yea…. tell y… your… yourself that…. B-Because we… both know… they won… They survived… they survived you… they made it… Over…lord… you lost the fight… because… they survived...they won… thee round...” Damn, it was getting hard to say anything,let alone come up with a good comeback. Is this how it feels to die?

“… There’s always a second round.” Were the last words Theron heard, before he felt a sharp pain pierce his body.

Yea, this is definitely how dying feels like.