#tagging this as shockwave just for visibility this is not shockwave this is his big brother

[chaaancewe]

Your favorite big titty brainiac?? Think again

[eldritchships]

ShockLine - First Meeting (UPDATED)

(Updated 17/1/24: Minor edits, mainly to correct a few now-incorrect details. Original tags, A/N, taglist etc. remain unchanged for posterity)

Summary: Flatline and Shockwave’s first meeting. (I finally wrote this out and I wanted to post it for fun) Author’s Note: Set in a mix of Prime/Cyberverse canons. General warning, this is a Transformers story so a lot of words for ‘normal’ things are different, since everybody is a big alien robot lol

Taglist: @payaso-pastel, @neofeud (If you’d like to be put on/taken off the taglist, just ask!)

“And here you’ll find the medical branch of our esteemed vessel.” Starscream explained with a bored roll of his wrist. He seemed overtly disinterested in the tour he’d been forced to give of the Nemesis, barely giving the minimum detail necessary to navigate the ship’s halls. In all fairness, the bot he was guiding was happy to survey his surroundings himself, enjoying the mysterious air unintentionally painted by Starscream’s descriptions. Flatline wasn’t much larger than Starscream himself, a pink-and-black bot with helicopter blades hanging from his back. At the announcement of the medical branch, Flatline perked up, and he peered in the direction Starscream had indicated.

“Your duties will place you here shortly, but I presume you’ll want to become acquainted with your personal quarters first.” Starscream continued, glancing back over his shoulder as he spoke. Flatline nodded. He was remaining cautious towards whatever the Decepticons had planned for him, but anything was an improvement in comparison to hiding in a busted starship, scrambling for energon.

Starscream and Flatline continued walking. As they passed by the med-bay, Flatline once again craned his neck for as much of a look inside as possible. Functional data screens, a table ready for test subjects, and a large Decepticon working on the far side. Flatline faltered mid-step at that, optics fixing on the unfamiliar bot. Primarily purple and grey paint job, back turned. The screen on Flatline’s chestplate displayed the steady pulse of energon in his fuel lines; the pulse picked up by a few beats with his intrigue. He glanced back towards Starscream, who was still walking away, slowly but surely. Flatline took one step sidewards, then slipped through the doorway into the medical bay. A further peek couldn’t hurt, Flatline would be working there soon, after all. Surely it was beneficial to become familiar with his station.

The short glimpse hadn’t done the medical bay justice on its size. It extended far above and to the sides of Flatline’s previous view, granting a roomy feel as far as a room of surgical implements went. The other Decepticon was occupied with tapping away at a data pad, one arm hanging at his side. Flatline wasn’t certain if the bot was aware of his presence. Rather than introduce himself, he decided to investigate the surgical table. It was twice the size of Flatline, and he thought it could feasibly accommodate the size of a bot as large as even Megatron. He ran his digits across the surface, pleased to find the surface smooth. He couldn’t find any kind of belts or restraints attached to the table; That would be a problem for what he had in mind.

“Do you require assistance?”

Flatline jumped, hopping back from the table. The other bot ceased typing and turned around to face Flatline. A single red optic adjusted and fixed on him. Flatline took a further step back, swallowing as his gaze followed up from the other bot’s pedes to his thin silver head fins.

“Wow.” Flatline exhaled. The pulse on his chest screen quickened, the quiet beeping incessant and seeming to pound in his audio receptors. The Decepticon didn’t look any smaller from the front; he was built wide, and much taller than Flatline. There was visible strength in every shift and movement of his body. Flatline could see now that his left arm, held at his side earlier, ended in a thick cannon rather than a hand.

The Decepticon took a single step forward, the cannon ready at his hip.

“Identify yourself.” He ordered sternly. The action shook Flatline out of his awe; he blinked and held a servo against his chestplate.

“Flatline. I’m a field medic.” He introduced himself quickly, keen not to be on the receiving end of the other Decepticon’s weaponry. The explanation seemed satisfactory, as the bot let his cannon arm fall at rest, although his demeanour didn’t seem to change. Flatline cautiously relaxed, even though his servo stayed on his screen, which was still beeping rapidly. The Decepticon’s optic flicked over Flatline’s form; the smaller bot felt like he was being examined, evaluated for every visible feature and flaw. He tried not to let his plating crawl from the feeling. The sound of quickly approaching pedes interrupted the tense quiet in the medical bay. Flatline turned to see Starscream speed into the room in a huff.

“Flatline! If you would rather continue this tour on your own, I would be happy to leave you behind!” Starscream exclaimed. Flatline eyed the other Decepticon. He didn’t seem to receive Starscream any more warmly than he had Flatline.

“I was distracted.” Flatline said slowly. He finally dragged his gaze away from the purple bot to look at Starscream, hesitating through his response, “I…It’s been too long since I’ve had access to a lab.” Starscream grumbled, stepping further into the med-bay.

“See that you can keep your attention on the task at hand, or the Decepticons may have no use for you after all.” Starscream threatened. He gestured towards the larger bot before beginning to turn to leave, “I am certain even Shockwave has better things to do than entertaining your curiosity.” With that, Starscream strode back out of the room, leaving the other two behind. Flatline’s optics slunk across to the large purple bot he had been so intrigued by.

“Shockwave.” He repeated. The bot turned his helm to Flatline, and Flatline smiled. “I suppose I’ll be seeing a lot more of you.” Shockwave’s fins rose, and his helm tilted in a nod.

“Affirmative.” He replied, “But be warned, I do not respond positively to those who interfere with my work.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Flatline beamed. Shockwave grunted and turned back to his data pad, apparently finished with the conversation. Flatline’s smile lingered and his optics roamed down Shockwave’s form, before he turned and left the med-bay, following after Starscream. He had to hurry to catch up, but Flatline would say his brief distraction had been well worth the trouble. He had found where he would be working for the foreseeable future, and he had found a very interesting lab partner. Flatline only hoped the purple Decepticon would warm up to him with time.

[moved-to-void-kissed]

Too Late to be Saved

Document link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1GF_jZevunsCA5QKPWXfaVO_OO61ZaAtxkzPdoJNJHUM/edit?usp=sharing

When Aqua and Aria reach the Dark Margin at the edge of the realm of darkness, they meet Ansem the Wise, who is quickly sought by Ansem, Seeker of Darkness. Aria angrily confronts the fellow Heartless, but finds herself unable to get back to the End of Sea before Riku and King Mickey arrive. (2351 words) Replaces the KH3 cutscene “An Unexpected Encounter” and changes some story events so that “Too Late” and “Braving the Darkness” no longer occur.

My first new piece of selfship writing on this blog, and oh boy is it a big one! I had a lot of fun writing this, so hopefully it makes for a good read, haha ^-^

Tag list: @softskiesahead | @dragonsmooch | @thatslikesometaldude | @lilacslovers | @insomniaships | @candyforthebrain | @goldenworldsabound | @setzale

A transcript of the document is under the readmore! Reblogs of this post would be greatly appreciated, since I was really happy with how this turned out, but they’re not required by any means~

“What is this place..?”

The blue-haired woman slowly walked forwards, marvelling at the sight before her. The endless dark caverns that she had wandered for so long had opened out to a clouded grey beach, lit by what appeared to be a glowing white moon above the horizon. The hard stone underfoot was giving way to soft sand of the same ash-like colour, as waves of murky water gently grazed the shore. It was an eerily tranquil place by the standards of all she had witnessed before, something her companion was quick to notice.

“There are no Heartless here.” she said. “I almost feel as though I shouldn’t be here, either. Aqua.. I think this might be the edge of the realm.”

“So, we’ve made it to the end?” replied Aqua, now making her way towards the shoreline.

“Yes, it would appear so. Whatever lies beyond this shore.. It seems less like part of the darkness, and more like something between dark and light. Something that doesn’t belong to either force..”

As her partner spoke, Aqua became aware that her voice was growing fainter. When she turned around, she saw that she had made far less progress towards the water, standing awkwardly some distance away with her wings curled around her body. She looked nervous, and unsure what to expect, yet the catlike ears poking straight up through her messy blonde hair showed that she was still as alert as ever, constantly listening for danger even in the silence of the new place they had stumbled across.

“Aria, it’s okay! We can keep going, if you’d prefer that. You look tense, and I don’t want you to be unsettled.”  A worried expression flitted across Aqua’s face as she reached out to hold Aria’s hand - the sudden movement made her flinch in surprise, but she quickly and visibly relaxed as Aqua drew closer. When the two were standing together again, Aqua gently closed both of her hands over Aria’s, unfazed by the patches of open darkness that ran along them, and smiled as she looked down at her partner.

“Thank you..” she mumbled quietly. “I’m alright, I just- don’t know what to expect here.”

It was then that, behind the Keyblade Master, Aria spotted a hooded figure sitting some distance away, hidden by a black coat but appearing to gaze out over the barely-moving water. Though she still let Aqua hold her right hand, she slowly shifted to free her left and moved to stand at Aqua’s side in one fluid movement. Then she extended her left arm and a mass of dark energy enveloped the space beside her, dissipating quickly to reveal a jagged dark red Keyblade.

“Identify yourself!”

Her shout echoed across the shore, leading the figure to turn its head and slowly stand up. As it started to walk across the sand, it removed its hood to reveal an older-looking man with piercing orange eyes and wispy light blond hair. He looked tired, and his face bore the wrinkled lines of worry as he observed the two Keyblade wielders.

“Please, stay your weapon. I mean you no harm.”

Aria wasn’t overly convinced, but she could see that the man did not have the strength to be a threat, so she lowered her Keyblade. Aqua was curious to find out more, taking a step forward.

“Who are you? How did you end up in this place?”

The man sighed wistfully, folding his hands behind his back. “My name was.. stolen by another, and I can feel this place taking its toll on my memory. I’m sorry. I know that I have only been here for a fairly short time, and that I was sent here by the destruction of the machine I created to encode Kingdom Hearts in data.”

“Before that..” He turned to look out over the water again, unwilling to meet Aqua’s gaze. “I caused a great deal of misery to many individuals, through both my recent actions and my previous research. It is clear to me now that I was deeply in the wrong about some of my original beliefs.. Now, I can only hope for a chance to atone for my deeds.”

“It’s alright.” Aria’s Keyblade had disappeared from her hand. “I can see now that your heart holds a true desire for.. repentance, or something of that nature. I’m not sure what the right word is, but.. The point is that you won’t be harmed, by either of us.”

“Yes, of course!” Aqua added. “I think you’ll be safe here, at least, since the Heartless don’t seem to come here. And, I can’t claim to know what you’ve done, but.. What’s important is that you recognise your mistakes, and that you want to make up for them.”

The man seemed relieved, and turned back to face the pair with a shadow of a smile on his face. “Thank you, both of you. I admit that I was not expecting to meet anyone else in this infernal prison. If I may ask, what are your names?”

“Oh, there’s no time for that now.”

A dark portal had opened up, and from it stepped an imposing and well-built man in a similar black coat. He had slicked-back long silver hair and similarly piercing eyes to the old man, though his were a cold golden colour. Aria’s eyes narrowed at his approach, as it was clear that he was a powerful user of darkness, though the true nuance was only visible to her.

“What- What’s going on?” Aqua asked, turning to face the man with suspicion. He ignored her for the moment, focusing only on the older man, who in turn was glaring fiercely at the intruder as he approached.

“You..”

“Master.. I must have a word with you.”

“Master?” he echoed. “So now you mock me..” The disapproval dripped from his voice like bitter venom. The interloper opened his mouth to respond, but-

“Leave.”

Aria had broken away from Aqua’s grasp and now stood defiantly before the intruder, Keyblade still in hand.

“Excuse me?” The man raised an eyebrow and sneered down at her, surprised by her actions.

“I know what you are, Ansem.” she snarled back. “I have known your power since before you even existed. A villainous Heartless with a natural human form - the one that took the title of “seeker of darkness” and is shadowed by a twisted dark figure. You think you’re so strong, but you are not the one who holds power here.”

This last statement had clearly struck a nerve, and Ansem’s expression of contempt soured into anger. “You’re certainly an astute one.. But what makes you think you could possibly face me?”

“Have your eyes gone blind as well as gold? If I can tell what you are, you can tell what I am. I have seen more than you will ever achieve, especially now that you’re afflicted with some other presence. That-” - she pointed up at his eyes - “-is Xehanort’s power, isn’t it? If you’re with him, that makes you our enemy.”

At this point, Aqua’s worried expression had returned. “Aria, be careful..”

“Aqua, get that man somewhere out of the way. I’m going to stop this before it becomes a problem.”

“You are a fool to challenge me, girl!” 

An eruption of darkness burst forth from the Heartless, and the powerful frame of the Dark Figure rose up from his shadow. Aria quickly leapt up into the air, spreading her wings to soar over Ansem’s head as he lashed out. To deflect the residual impact of his outburst, Aqua summoned a Barrier spell, then started to help the old man escape once he had turned around.

The force of that initial burst - not even a targeted attack, merely an effect driven by the might of his anger - instantly made Aria aware of the strength Ansem possessed, and she knew she would have to be careful. Her advantage was agility, as the darkness she could draw from her surroundings to aid her flight was limitless. She darted out of his reach and flew up and away from the Dark Figure’s grasp, firing shockwaves of unearthly blue energy at both it and Ansem. The monster seemed unfazed, but Ansem himself was slowed down in his pursuit of her, only to then retaliate with a barrage of violet orbs, which Aria was able to flit between. At every twist and turn, she flew further away from him, enraging him even more as he was forced to give chase.

“What is this insolence?!” Ansem yelled. “You should be obeying me!”

“Does it look like that matters?” she replied, deftly evading another blast of dark energy. “I already told you - you’re not the one who holds power here. Even if you did, Ves’ presence is enough to protect me. I don’t care what you think you deserve!”

Another flash of darkness, this time from Aria herself - she had switched her Keyblade from its dark mode to its diamond mode, now shimmering with cold blue light, and enveloped herself in a shadowy aura to strengthen herself. Still soaring on her wings, their black feathers gleaming with energy drawn from the realm, she sent a rain of insightful flames down from above, then her Keyblade became electrified and she hurled it spinning towards him.

“Maybe you meant something, once. But now you’ve let yourself be taken over by someone who’s not even strong enough to control you completely. Take it from someone who knows - all that does is weaken you!”

“Enough of this!”

Suddenly, the Dark Figure wrested itself from Ansem’s shadow and lunged forwards into the air, followed swiftly by Ansem himself, roaring and surrounding himself with a wall of intense darkness. As Aria dropped through the air to avoid his charge, a blast of ice struck him from behind. It was Aqua, channeling magic even without her Keyblade to act as a conduit. The impact threw Ansem off-course, but the Dark Figure swept around and managed to grab hold of Aria.

“Agh!”

“Let go of her!” Aqua cried, trying to fire more magic without hitting Aria. Ansem’s attention remained focused on the Keyblade Master, while the Dark Figure tightened its powerful grip as if to crush Aria entirely. She desperately writhed and struggled, holding onto the figure with her right hand and trying to slash at it with the Keyblade in her left. After a few moments, it became shrouded in a dark mist, as if dissipating, and she was able to slip from its hold when another direct hit from Aqua made Ansem stumble.

Anger still pulsed through him like a poison as he shouted at the both of them. “I will not lose to an obstinate recusant and a lost guardian with no Keyblade to protect herself!”

Clearing the space around him by emitting a shockwave of energy, Ansem started to summon a massive crest of darkness above him, reaching all the way up to the ceiling. The Dark Figure was still clawing at Aria, as if enraged at how she had stolen some of its power to escape it, but she felt confident she would be able to evade the incoming blow. She could tell that he was not at his full strength anymore, and the intricate crest was already starting to lose its shape, contorting into a misshapen orb of raw darkness.

Then she saw where Ansem was aiming.

“Don’t you dare!-”

In the instant before the orb struck her, all Aqua saw was a flurry of feathers, and then came the dark impetus. Something fell from her sash as she was knocked to the ground, and she was only aware of something- someone- Aria being launched through the air above her, sent flying further back into the dark. 

Just then, a shower of stars came soaring in from the direction of the otherworldly beach. Their light seemed to pierce through the darkness like a blade through fog, and Aqua couldn’t help but feel a surge of hope as she saw them strike the Heartless.

“Oh no you don’t!”

A familiar and determined cry from none other than King Mickey himself - the little mouse had leapt to the fray and brandished his Star Cluster Keyblade to help Aqua out. From behind him, another Keyblade wielder in plaid clothing was running towards them, carrying a sword of grey metal with ease.

Aqua recognised him immediately, even though he had grown considerably. “Riku! Mickey! Is it really you?”

“Gah..” Ansem staggered back to his feet, clearly injured from Mickey’s attack, and glared at them all in turn. “You have not won this.. You will not prevail!”

Another dark corridor opened up, then it was gone, and he was gone.

“I don’t feel good about letting him get away like that..” said Mickey. “Should we try and go after him?”

“There’s no time!” Riku exclaimed, his green eyes clouded with concern. “We need to get you out of here, Aqua, and bring Ansem the Wise with us, too. I don’t know how long the corridor I made will stay open for.”

“Wait, but-”

Mickey nodded at Riku’s words with a determined expression. “You’re right. I’m not leaving without you again, Aqua!”

All the while, Aria was desperately flying.

The light of all their hearts, and of the corridor, was blinding, especially for one so accustomed to the dark - but she kept racing forwards, using them as a guiding beacon. Sharp spikes of rock loomed down from the ceiling, as if the jaws of a monster were trying to consume her, to keep her trapped in the realm that had already held her for so long. No. She wouldn’t lose her. This would be her only chance to escape.

The lights flickered, once, twice, three times - and then it was all extinguished. Fatigue from her injuries mixed with overwhelming emotions brought Aria to the ground with a sob. She crashed to the floor just metres away from where her love had been so cruelly rescued, clinging onto what Aqua had so sadly left behind.

All she had left was a blue glass Wayfinder.

[remmushound]

Beyond the Bay chapter 15: Honeycutt’s story

Tags: @selfindulgenz @brightlotusmoon

Content warning: Swears, mentions of scars, pain

Raphael kneeled to be level with Honeycutt, who took a few polite steps back with his arms folded behind him.

“Hey… Honeycutt…” Raphael held out a hand to the robot.

Honeycutt’s screen lit up. “Ah! This is what some Terrans call a ‘handshake’ yes?” He took Raphael’s hand in both of his and shook it gently, “I do this?”

“Yes.” Raphael nodded with a patient smile.

“Oh! Wonderful day!”

“You’re… not from earth, are you?” Raphael asked.

“No I am not.” Honeycutt confirmed.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Oh…” Honeycutt’s screen shifted to visible upset, “There are bad, bad people after me and earth was my sanctuary, but now they’re here too…”

“The triceratons?”

“Yes!” Honeycutt said urgently, standing on the tips of his flat feet, “And that is why they cannot return home! It is not safe!”

“Yeah, no shit.” Raph snarled, and he pulled his lips back to display his teeth.

Honeycutt tilted his head. Raphael stayed on his knees for just a moment, eyes shadows as his thoughts sifted through his head, before he stood slowly and turned to Raph. All it took was a simple motion of his hand to draw Raph to the side, where both mutants could talk with some semblance of privacy. Raphael had to lower his head slightly to be level with his counterpart.

“Hey, I know this is really… really frustrating, but could ya maybe try not to upset the robot? We might be able to get more outta him if he doesn’t, you know, hate us?”

Raph snorted, eyes averting to avoid looking at the responsible version of himself. He dragged his hand across his mouth and chin as he calmed himself.

“Yeah— yeah, right.” Raph nodded.

Raphael gave him another pat on the back before returning to Honeycutt, who had been waiting patiently. Raph returned very slowly to his brothers, ignoring Leo’s questioning look in favor of hunching himself and hiding his expression.

“Honeycutt, how have you been hanging around so long without being seen? I mean— we’ve heard you, but this is the first We’re seeing you.”

“Well, when I am anxious or scared, which I have been a lot in recent days, I do tend to take on a certain layer of… transparency to hide.

“I see, I see. Well— where did you come from?” Raphael asked. “Where is your home?”

“I come from a planet many lightyears from here. A planet so like earth that it is uncanny! My home… we were so peaceful. The only way in which my planet strayed from the path of yours was in the way of war which we did not wage!”


“Woah woah woah, wait.” Donnie interrupted with a wave of his hand to catch Honeycutts attention. “No wars? Not even one?”

“Not even one!” Honeycutt echoed.

“No fighting?”

“Oh, there was plenty of that! And arguments too! Disagreements, just not war. My people were a very pacifistic people, diplomatic and kind toward our fellow hominoids! We worked together, and we developed so quickly that we started to deplete our world's natural resources to a dangerous level. We had to outsource beyond our world for power and for food. That is when my professor, the one who created me, met him.”

“You say that like we’re supposed to know who ‘he’ is.” Raph commented offhandedly.

“Ah! My apologies!” Honeycutt apologized. “The Triceraton Prime Leader: Zanramon! His ancestors— er, that is to say his grandfather—destroyed their planet in the greed and heat of their constant, warring conflicts and infighting, and so they took to the stars on a mobile homeworld searching for a planet to conquer and claim as their own. Their tech was… and still is… severely lacking in several regards.”

Every few words, Honeycutt would pause as if he needed to consider the nicest possible way to talk about the ones hunting him, choosing his words carefully.

“Triceraton are not well known for their craftsmanship. Let’s just say that their ship’s deficits left them very… upset and angry. Then again, that is traditionally the default with Triceratons. They are very unlike my Federation. In fact, one could say we were opposites. For in the entire documented existence of triceratons, their longest era of peace had been just under three of their sun circles— that’s less than one of yours! They saw what we had— our ships and our technology— and they wanted that for themselves. They wanted our ships and they wanted our fuel— our mutagen!”

“Mutagen?” Leo jutted in, eye ridges raising as alarm etched over his features. He looked around at his friends and his brothers just to make sure they were just as unnerved as he was, and they all felt the same way. “Like— like the stuff used to create us?”

“Yes!” Honeycutt interlocked his fingers, standing a little taller to look up to Leo. “Mutagen is life! And until my Professor came along, the only place to get mutagen was Dimension X. But then my Professor, in all of his brilliance, came up with a solution! An artificial mutagen to power our ships, and the Triceratons wanted it very badly. My Professor knew this, and so to prevent this crucial information from falling into the wrong hands, he went into hiding. But the Triceratons found him! You see, my master was a smart man. Smart enough to know he could never hold up against the violent methods of which Triceratons use to extract information. He ran, and in the Triceratons relentless pursuit, he was gunned down. With their chance lost, the Triceratons turned their attention to me, for I was his trusted android, and if he were to share the secrets of his ooze with anyone, it would be with me. But unlike my creator, I escaped, doomed to drift around the vast black until my mutagen reserves ran out. Or… so I thought! But then I crash landed here, on your planet, in your Hudson River!” He pointed eagerly at Leo.

“So you brought them here?” Leo said accusingly, crossing his arms.

“Well, if we’re being realistic, I do believe it is your mutagen they are after. My reserves are far too low to be tracked.”

“Then why now?” Leo’s voice didn't lose its sharp edge, “Why not when we were first made? Or when that canister came to earth to begin with? Why wait?”

“Well— the Triceratons were quite a distance out from the Milky Way when those events would have occurred, but there was a particular event that happened in your world not too long ago that must have drawn their attention!”

He was met with nothing but blank stares.

“Krang’s visit to your world!” Honeycutt provided with a laugh.

Raph’s eyeridges knit together and Donnie’s raised; Mikey pursed his lips in a shocked whistle. Leo’s face remained still, though his eye gave the faintest twitch.

“That was years ago.” Donnie said, his voice shaking with his disbelief.

“Yes, but in the grand scheme of time, it is hardly anything at all! Triceraton ships can only travel so fast. Chances are they were already on their way before I even crashed!”

“So this whole situation…” Leo motioned vaguely, “Is just one big coincidence, huh?”

“Yes!” Honeycutt nodded eagerly.

“I don’t believe you…” Leo towered even higher above Honeycutt if that was possible, and the android shrunk smaller and smaller with every second that passed.

“Well you should…” Honeycutt’s voice was soft. “It is the truth.”

“I thought you agreed to let us handle this.” Leonardo rose to meet Leo’s gaze, his expression just as still and confident as his older counterpart; his eyes held that same calm spirit of defiance that he had shown years before, except stronger now that he was grown.

“I’m just asking questions.” Leo said.

“That was a statement, not a question.” Leonardo said back.

“He’s right Leo, that wasn’t a… a question…” Donnie said unhelpfully.

“Thank you Donnie.” Leo growled through his teeth.

“I… I’m sensing hostility…” Honeycutt’s head almost disappeared with how low he hunched into his shoulders, backing away slowly from the group.

“Wait— no—” Leo tried to correct himself, reaching a hand out toward the robot. “I didn’t mean—“

Honeycutt was already running, flat feet carrying him down the tunnels as his form faded into transparency.

“Great.” Donatello motioned down the tunnel, “There he goes.”

“Wow, he wasn’t lying about the transparency bit.” Donnie hummed.

“Stop him!”

All it took was Leo’s commanding shout for all turtles, even Raphael, to obey and go running after the flight risk. They couldn’t see him anymore, but the android was being less than quiet as he tried to escape. Every clang clang clang that Honeycutt’s feet made as they found impact with the ground rebounded; every noise to the turtles was like pure vibrations. Ninja sense mixed with turtle instinct guided them through the dark, and they saw the robot even when he wasn’t able to be seen. They felt him, his very presence, radiating within each sound.

Leo was the fastest of his team just as Leonardo was the fastest in his; both blue-clad mutants pulled ahead of their brothers, eyes glancing at the other in a silent challenge to prove who was best. Leo ducked his head low and curved to adjust his trajectory and grab at the invisible android, but Leonardo didn't. He dug his feet in the stone and came to a full stop. Leo’s momentary confusion led him to stare at Leonardo a little too long, and to miss his shot.

Leo felt Honeycutt shoot between his legs and back down the way he had come. Leonardo’s right arm went out in automatic instinct to grab the android, and he succeeded. At least, he thought he did before the full-force of the tiny robot sent shockwaves of pain shooting up his arm and into his plastron and neck, following the lines of his barely-scarred wounds like pure fire.

Honeycutt slipped out of Leonardo’s hand as his grip went slack. Honeycutt kept running, and too late was it to stop when he realized the other six turtles were running straight at him. Mikey had carried the lead ahead of his brothers, and so he was the first one to reach Honeycutt; the first to reach out and grab the android around his forearm and—

Mikey’s entire body tensed, as if electricity was shot through it. He likened the pain to the tasers that had been forced against him when their lair was destroyed; pure power that seized everything and made his body refuse to listen to his mind. That thought passed and nothing more came until the black around his body seeped into his mind, and he slumped over unconscious.

[mikroparadise]

Sleep Tight (M) | MYG

↠  Banner by the almighty @ddaengyoonmin​, bow down to her in reverence of her immense talent!

↠ Synopsis: You hadn’t realized just how vanilla your sex life was, until one late night when your fiance decided to turn up the heat and show you his true desires.

↠ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

↠ Word Count: 4k+

↠ Genre: smut

↠ Warnings/Tags: established relationship; dub con; explicit language; sleepy sex; dirty talk; praise kink; kitten kink; oral (f receiving); body worship; orgasm denial; multiple orgasms; biting; spanking; light bondage; anal fingering; unprotected sex; creampie, and a big twist at the end!

↠ Masterlist

↠Read It On AO3

↠ A/N: This literally took me forever to write and I’m so sorry lol. Thank you so much to @heyitsayjayy​ and @kingsuckjin​ for beta reading for me, you guys are the absolute best and I love you! I’m gonna put another author’s note at the bottom to put some backstory behind everything. I don’t know if that sounds weird but it’s hard to explain without ruining anything so...enjoy I guess lmao.

Your pillow felt soft beneath your head as you laid in your bed waiting for sleep to overtake you. 

It was beginning to seem like an exercise in futility now at this ungodly hour of 3 a.m. You’ve been laying awake next to your fiance, Yoongi, for about an hour and a half now, wishing for nothing more than your eyes to stay closed once you’ve told them it’s time for bed. In an attempt to bore yourself to sleep you replayed the events of your evening with Yoongi in your head.

You’d gone out to dinner with a few executives from a record company who wanted to hire Yoongi as a music producer.

Not even the expensive lobster you ordered could make up for the flavorless conversation that passed between everyone at the table. When the time finally came to talk business you could tell Yoongi was uncomfortable with some of the terms of the contract that were being proposed, but ever the predictable man, Yoongi didn’t negotiate with the executives. He kindly accepted all of the terms while you observed him playing with his earlobes and scrunching his nose whenever he thought no one was paying attention. His own insecurities always seemed to get in his way and it pained you to see him so visibly bothered without speaking up.

You let out a deep sigh and turned onto your side, hoping that the change in position would ease your eyes closed. Just as your lids started to get heavy there was a rustling of the blankets behind you, and Yoongi let out a sleepy grumble. It almost sounded like a deep purr from a slumbering lion. 

You began to apologize, thinking that you had woken him with your tossing and turning, when Yoongi snaked an arm around your waist, his large hand splayed out against your stomach as he pulled you close to him. Your back was pressed against his bare chest, and Yoongi let out another low purr as he began leaving soft kisses along your shoulders, working his way up to your neck. He continued leaving kitten licks that tickled across your skin, occasionally suckling on the sensitive spot at the base of your neck while you moaned quietly at the sensation of his soft lips against your skin.

Suddenly, Yoongi bit down firmly on the back of your neck, something he had never done before.

If you had read that in a romance novel, or seen it in a sex scene of a movie you would have thought it would hurt. But much to your delight it sent a spark of electricity shooting down your spine. You arched your back into the sensation, your ass rubbing up against Yoongi’s raging erection that was straining against his boxers.

Yoongi took a sharp breath through his teeth, and his hand began to wander underneath your silky nightdress and up your torso to your breasts. He massaged the mound of flesh in his hand before his deft fingers pinched softly on your nipple and began rolling it between his fingertips. You shivered at the feeling, and Yoongi began sucking and licking hard on the part of your neck he had latched himself to, causing tingles to shoot down from your neck all the way to your thighs.

Just as your head began to spin from the feeling of Yoongi’s new, more bold touches, you suddenly felt a rush of wind.

Yoongi whipped the blanket off the bed, grabbed the hem of your dress and began lifting it over your head. You propped yourself up to help him, now excited for the excuse to wear yourself out with sex, and as soon as it was off Yoongi flipped you on your back. He grasped one of your hands and began tying your dress around your wrist. You watched the tendons in his hands flex as his long, agile fingers made quick work of the garment. Yet another thing Yoongi had never done with you before. You wondered what had gotten into him. Whatever it was, though, you liked where this was going and you weren’t going to try and stop him.

When he was done, Yoongi took your other hand and began tying it up with the other end of your dress. He lifted your arms above your head and slid your now bound wrists over a peak in your headboard. The dark wood was cold where it made contact with your skin but you didn’t mind. You scooched up so that you were sitting up against the headboard, now in nothing but your panties.

Yoongi came down to eye level with you, and he looked ethereal in the low moonlight of your bedroom. The black fringe of his hair was hanging down into his half-lidded eyes, his porcelain skin glowing like a divine light in the darkness.

Yoongi’s tongue darted past his pouty lips as he dipped down and began leaving a trail of kisses down your neck to your breasts. He latched his soft lips around one of your nipples and began rolling his tongue around the hardening bud before switching to the other one and back again.

You arched into his touch, letting soft whines past your lips as Yoongi’s hands began wandering the expanse of your skin, which was coming alight with the flames of desire wherever his hands touched you, and your womanhood began to throb in anticipation of not knowing what was coming next. You liked this new, unpredictable aura he had about him. Yoongi was normally the type to always just go through the motions: kiss, oral, sex. Not that it didn’t ever feel good, it always felt great in fact. But it was routine, you always knew what to expect from him. There was some security in that for sure, but the anticipation, the unexpected. It made your heart hammer in your chest. It was exciting. It did make you wonder though: what’s gotten into him?

Yoongi began moving his way farther south, letting his mouth explore every inch of skin on your torso. He began nibbling on your hips, suckling right at the top of your inner thigh.

You were writhing beneath his touch, whispering his name, your pulse racing through your body as you prepared for his tongue to flick out against your clit and give you some relief. But just when you expected it to happen, Yoongi removed himself from you and slid farther down the bed to your feet.

“Yoongi-” you whined as you wiggled your hips, trying to draw his attention back to where you needed him most.

He ignored your plea and began peppering feathery light kisses along the tops of your feet and up your calves, tickling your skin with his soft tongue as he left open-mouthed kisses and nibbles up your thighs.

The anticipation was killing you, your panties now surely soaked with your arousal.

“Spread your pretty legs wide for me, kitten.”

His words made you whimper as your sex spasmed around nothing. You slowly spread your legs, trying to make a show of it for him, and his eyes visibly darkened behind his dark bangs. 

Yoongi bent down and buried his nose between your clothed folds and inhaled your scent long and deep, before licking a long stripe over your clit through your panties with the flat of his tongue, sending shockwaves rippling up your body as you sighed in pleasure.

Yoongi caught the fabric of your soaked panties between his teeth and tugged on it, humming in satisfaction, before letting go and sending the fabric snapping back against your clit, earning him a stifled cry of bliss. A sly smirk spread across his face as he moved away from you yet again and you began thrusting your hips up at him.

“Yoongi, please, baby please keep touching me,” you begged.

Yoongi chuckled as he climbed back up the bed and took your earlobe into his mouth, rolling it around on his tongue before letting it drag back out of his mouth through his teeth. “Tell me, little kitten, who does this pussy belong to?” His hand was hovering right above your clit, so damn close…

When you failed to respond Yoongi rolled you to the side and spanked you on the ass. You yelped, all the air escaping your lungs and blood rushing to the area of impact as your heart began pounding so fast you could feel your pulse in your clit.

“I asked you a question.” Yoongi’s voice was dripping with sugary sweet honey.

“I... i-it b- belongs to you,” you said, gasping for air.

Yoongi purred in approval as he smoothed his hand over your ass to sooth the growing red mark he placed there. “Now that’s a good girl. Keep being a good girl and I’ll reward you for it, ok?”

“Mm-hm.” You nodded your head fervently.

Yoongi chuckled as he rolled you back over, spread your legs open and ran his long, slender fingers up your inner thighs toward your god forsaken panties. His hands stilled at the waistline before he let both of his thumbs start rubbing faint circles around your clit, making your legs squeeze shut as you threw your head back. Even the lightest touch and you couldn’t help moaning in pleasure, anticipation, and frustration all at once. All of this teasing had you so riled up that you weren’t sure if you’d survive long enough for him to actually touch you full contact.

Then, finally, Yoongi hooked his fingers beneath your waistband and peeled your last remaining, sopping wet garment down your legs. He pushed your legs back open and dipped down so that he was eye level with your glistening sex. He was so close that the puffs of his breaths were tickling your sensitive clit and you began shaking in anticipation. He was so. Damn. Close.

“You have such a pretty pussy,” Yoongi said as he looked up at you from beneath the onyx fringe of his bangs. He’d never really dirty talked with you this much, but it was something you could definitely get used to. He looked down just in time to see you clench down around nothing, making him chuckle lowly like the evil villain in a fairy tale movie. He looked back up and stared into your eyes before darting his tongue out and dragging it agonizingly slow over your clit.

You huffed out a sigh of relief as fire spread throughout your lower body, struggling to catch your breath as Yoongi’s tongue began to draw lazy circles around your clit, before moving down to lap up your juices and back up again, alternating between fast and slow, relief and torture . This was it. There was a reason that record label wanted him, his fast tongue and and his deft fingers. You could relate.

Slowly Yoongi slipped one finger inside you, and then two, curling them upward and rubbing on that spot deep inside you that had you seeing stars behind your eyelids. You were an absolute mess, your lower body shaking violently as curses and whines flowed past your lips like water from a spout.

You were so close to cumming, your legs stiffening, bracing for impact, when Yoongi removed himself from you. Your eyes snapped open at the loss of contact. He looked up at you, his face dripping with your juices, and smirked as he put his hand to his mouth and wrapped his tongue around his fingers, licking them clean, tasting your juices.

That was when Yoongi flipped you over onto your knees, your upper body suspended from your bound wrists on the headboard, and brought his hand down on your ass again, immediately feathering his fingers over the surface of your skin. You shuddered in pleasure as tingles shot up your spine,  when he did it again, and again, and again. You began moaning with each smack, unable to focus on the fact that you were kind of shocked at how good it felt for more than a second or two at a time.

“Your ass looks so pretty all red like this,” Yoongi whispered in your ear as he rubbed soothing circles over your bottom. “You’re being such a good girl, kitten.”

You mewled at his praise. “Yoongi please,”

“Please what, kitten?”

“Please fuck me, I need you inside me, please!”

“As you wish,” he purred, suckling on your earlobe before leaning back and removing his boxers.

You looked over your shoulder to watch him, his dick springing free as he slipped the boxers down his legs, finally liberated from it’s cotton prison.

Yoongi had the most beautiful dick you’d ever seen, you’d known it the second you’d first laid eyes on him that no dick could ever top it. It was straight as an arrow with bulging veins that meandered like rivers just underneath the surface of his milky skin, and he was the perfect length and girth. You were Goldilocks, and he was just right for you, like he was made for you. 

You didn’t know if it was the moonlight hitting his porcelain skin or if it was just your fucked out haze, but Yoongi’s dick was shining like a grand prize trophy. It made your mouth water. You wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch it, to run your tongue across every inch of skin, take him into your throat and worship his cock in every way you could.

You discreetly tugged on your wrists to try and free yourself so that you could touch him, but somehow he had actually tied you up well enough that your wrists didn’t want to slip out. You looked back over your shoulder to see him crouched back on his haunches with a hand wrapped around his cock, his long, slender fingers working their way up and down his shaft at a lazy pace. When you looked up at his face, he had a predatory fire in his feline eyes as they ravaged your body.

Yoongi let his fingers roll over his tip, which was practically dripping in precum. “God you’re so fucking beautiful.” he murmured under his breath, almost as if he wasn’t saying it for you but for himself, like he couldn’t contain his admiration. He scootched forward slowly and ran the head of his cock through your folds a few times, putting delicious pressure on your clit with each pass, and just before he pushed past your entrance he licked his thumb, making you pause if only for a moment to wonder why in the hell he was doing that?

It was odd, because you were sure that he had only had his middle and pointer fingers inside you, so why would he be licking his thumb? What was he going to do? What was going on with him tonight?

Before you could analyze any further, you felt the divine stretch of Yoongi’s cock finally entering you. He pushed in slowly, allowing you to adjust to his girth, and you let out a long moan as every inch of him slid into you to the hilt. Yoongi gave you a second to savor the feeling before pulling out almost all the way. As he pushed back in, something else pushed into you that had a deep groan ripping from your throat. Yoongi pressed the tip of his thumb against your other entrance and slowly pushed it deep inside in tandem with his cock reentering your cunt.

It was absolute bliss. You weren’t sure how you had lasted your whole life without trying any type of anal play, but one thing was for sure: you weren’t going to deprive yourself of this sensation.

Yoongi began pumping in and out of both holes gently, as if he didn’t want to hurt you, and you bit down hard on your silk bindings to stifle the throaty cries that you wanted so desperately to let free, but waking the neighbors with your sex screams wasn’t exactly at the top of your bucket list.

Soon Yoongi began snapping his hips hard against yours, keeping his slow pace but punctuating each thrust with a crash of his hips against you, using his thumb inside you as leverage to slam into you harder. Every single ounce of friction was utterly divine, your nerve endings exploding like microscopic supernovas all throughout your body.

Your orgasm was rapidly reapproaching with Yoongi’s every thrust of his hand and his cock, and he began to pick up his pace as electricity began pooling at the bottom of your stomach, poised and ready to pounce and overtake you at any moment. It was becoming harder and harder to hold in your screams of pleasure, and small shrieks began slipping free from your vocal chords despite your best efforts to keep it together. Never in your life had you ever felt like this before, there was so much stimulation at once that you were struggling to keep a grasp on reality.

Suddenly Yoongi replaced his thumb with his pointer finger before adding his middle finger, and then his ring finger, and with a few more snaps of his hips you felt the lightning shoot up your spine and crackle through every muscle in your body as you came harder than you’ve ever came before. 

“Oh..FUCK!” The scream of euphoria you’d been holding in ripped from your gut as your walls began spasming around Yoongi’s cock. You were in such a fucked out state that it didn’t occur to you until you came down from your high, however, that Yoongi had stilled all movement; his various appendages still filling you up, but he was still as a statue.

“What….the fuck,” Yoongi muttered under his breath.

You tilted your head over your shoulder to look at him, still breathing heavily from the intensity of your orgasm.

Yoongi was staring down at the scene below him with wild eyes, darting from your ass, marked with red spank marks and filled with his fingers, to your bound hands, to the clock on the night stand that now read 4:01 a.m., and back again. He was visibly disoriented, like he had no idea how he’d gotten there.

“Y/N,” Yoongi said apprehensively as he met your gaze. “What just happened?”

You were stunned silent for a moment, so many questions were running around in your head that you couldn’t even decipher any of them. “Umm...what do you mean what just happened?”

“I mean, one second I’m asleep, and the next I wake up to you cumming all over my dick. So, please describe to me, what just happened?”

"Well...." You hesitated, still slightly confused. "You woke up, or at least I thought you did, and you tied me up and started going down on me....can you umm," you murmured, motioning him with your eyes to remove himself from inside you.

"Yeah, yeah," Yoongi stuttered as he removed himself from you. The friction had you shivering from overstimulation, but nevertheless you crawled up the bed and slid your wrists over the bed posts and sat back down so that you could face him.

"And then what happened?" Yoongi asked.

"Right, then you went down on me, for a pretty long time actually, and then you flipped me over and started fucking me and...uh..." You looked down at your hands for a moment, embarrassed at what you were about to say out loud.

"And what?" Yoongi's voice was raspier than it had been a few moments ago, like he was straining to contain something.

"And you, uh, started fingering me in my ass," you said as you met his gaze again.

Yoongi's eyes were dark with lust, and his chest was slowly heaving harder and harder as the seconds ticked past. What seemed like an eternity had passed before Yoongi spoke up again.

"Did you like it?"

"What?" you asked as you felt all the blood in your body rush to your face.

"I said, did my kitten like it when I stuffed her ass full of my fingers?" Yoongi began crawling up the bed towards you, passion burning in his eyes.

"Wait, why don't you remember any of that? Were you....asleep?"

"I think so, I thought I was just dreaming all of that." Yoongi's deep voice purred, his lips now inches away from your own. "But it seems to me, my little kitten, that all that's happened is now I can’t be too shy to do what I really want to do to you, the cat’s out of the bag." Yoongi's raven hair clung to his forehead with sweat, his pupils completely blown out.

"And what does that entail exactly?" you said though baited breath.

"We can find out more about it later, but first, I'm gonna finish what I started." Yoongi grabbed you by the hips, pulled you underneath his hot, steaming body and leaned down to capture your lips in a hungry kiss.

He lined his cock up with your entrance and slammed his hips into you, setting a punishing pace as he pounded into you.

Every sensation you had just finished coming down from immediately sprung back to life with a fiery vengeance, as Yoongi explored as much of your skin as he could with his mouth, breaking the kiss and moving down your jaw to your collarbone where he began nipping and sucking on the sensitive skin there. He moved down to your breasts and took one of your nipples into his mouth, dragging the flat of his tongue over it before taking it between his teeth and tugging gently.

"Are you gonna cum for me again, kitten?"

"Oh my fucking god, yes!" Your next orgasm was rushing at you like a freight train, and you were bracing for impact.

Yoongi's hand snaked its way in between your bodies to your clit and began rubbing calculated circles over the bundle of nerves. You arched into his touch as you moaned in pleasure, now giving precisely zero fucks about what the neighbors would have to say about all the noise.

Yoongi's hips started to move sloppily as his orgasm threatened to consume him. "Cum with me like a good girl," Yoongi growled, licking a long stripe up to your ear.

If he had meant for you to wait for him to cum then he wasn't about to get what he wanted, because before you could try to hold it the freight train collided with you and you came hard, your walls spasming around Yoongi's cock uncontrollably. With a few more snaps of his hips, Yoongi spilled himself inside you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he whined with ecstasy.

You wanted nothing more than to kiss him and swallow all of the delicious sounds he was making, but you couldn't move. He collapsed on top of you and mumbled something completely incoherent into your shoulder.

"What did you say, honey?" you asked as you tenderly stroked the back of his head.

"I said I should sleepwalk more often," Yoongi chuckled.

"Yeah, right, more like sleep fuck," you retorted with a laugh. "Do I need to go out and by some benadryl for you? Cuz I wouldn't mind this happening again, that was unreal!" you shouted.

Yoongi looked up at you with his gummy smile as his shoulders shook in laughter. "I don't think that'll be necessary. Now I know how dirty you are, no need to be so careful not to scare you away anymore," he smirked. “Especially since you’re going to be my wife in less than a year.”

You pushed him off dramatically and feigned offense, completely ignoring the fact that he had just used the “wife” word and it made your heart flutter with affection for him.. "I beg your pardon, but I am not dirty!" you said mockingly.

Yoongi snaked his arm around your waist and pulled you close, planting a feathery light kiss on your shoulder. "Yeah right, kitten," he giggled.

You rolled your eyes but melted into his embrace as sleep finally started to take over you. Before you fell into your long awaited slumber one last thought occurred to you. "Honey, one last thing," you whispered.

"What is it?" Yoongi asked.

"You're cleaning the cum off the sheets in the morning, this whole thing was your fault."

"What?! That, that doesn't seem-"

"Good night," you cut him off in your best sing-songy voice, trying to hold back your laughter.

"Good night." Yoongi chuckled before pulling you into him tighter, and you fell asleep in his arms, while his cum dripped out of you and onto the sheets.

↠ Masterlist

↠ A/N: Sooooo wow! What did you guys think about that twist! So, this was based on a true story that happened to my friend, and she called me the next morning to tell me all about it, and then she said I could write about it if I wanted (best friend ever amirite? lmao) And before you ask, yes it is really possible to talk etc with your eyes open while you’re sleep walking, cuz I’m a bad sleep walker and my friends have memories of entire conversations that I was legitimately asleep for the entire time lol. Anyway I really hope you enjoyed that, let me know what you thought! Asks, reblogs, even just freaking out in the tags, it makes me feel all fuzzy inside lol so please don’t be shy (although I do have anon on if you are lol)

[helis97]

Now that I have revealed the ending of my other comic, it is only fair that I do the same with this one as well. As much a sit pains me to be unable to continue this comic, whose story I really liked a lot, if I can’t share it with you guys It’s as good as I never said it. So without further delay: HERE’S HOW THE STORY OF MY FANCOMIC TFP_DarkHopes WAS SUPPOSED TO END:

We are left at the end of chapter 1 with Megatron leaving Shockwave in his room after giving him his last statement. As revealed on the last page of the chapter, Soundwave is aboard the ship and seems to be up to no good (alongside Slipstream).

The story starts again with C.P., aka Chemical Preceptor (who we met in the first page of chapter 1), just not having a drink at the table. In the same room there are also Scourge, his sister Flama and a bunch of other Cybertronian. The kids are doing their homework while the others are simply eager for the ship to arrive  on Cybertron and load the first bach of citizens.

Flamethrower interrupts an annoyed C.P. telling him that not only he wasn’t able to intercept Megatron, but now the giant warlord just went to talk to the Captain. An alarmed C.P. blasts out the bar while several all same looking guards try to stop him telling him that it’s all right.

In the Captain’s office, Megatron is discussing with Captain Blatula, a single eyed black bot, and Driver Spiritus, a yellow bot who reassembles Knockout’s model. Blatula is explaining the nature of the ship: the ship’s name is YonderLight and was used as a home by many refugees during the war when the planet died. After many years, and the rebirth of planet Cybertron, the ship was completely restored and is now heading back to Cybertron to pick up the old residents, who wants to continue their life aboard the ship, and other cybertronians in general that are interested in making the ships their new home, or simply wants to travel for a while.

Blatula, talking to Megatron, tells him that the ship is not labeled Autobot or Decepticon so that anyone, in the respect of the law of the ship, is welcome aboard. However, if Megatron wants to stay aboard, he’ll have to both change his name and his appearance, not to mention that Sipsi (who is present in the room) will stay with him for a while to be sure he’s not a danger.

Megatron wonders if its safe for something like him to even exist around innocent bots, but his flow of thought is interrupted by C.P. angrily bolting inside the room with a storm of all same looking yellow guards behind. As C.P. yells at the captain, Spiritus apologizes for not being able to stop the angry bot from reaching the office. C.P. tells Blatula that he’s making a grave mistake allowing so many dangerous monsters aboard the ship, and that Shockwave was already a big risk.

Megatron is surprised by the fact that the yellow guards seem to speak simultaneously and soon notices that they all reassemble Spiritus. Sipsi explain that Spiritus is a single brain projected thought the whole ship, as he’s the Driver literally, and has many vessels.

C.P. turns his attention from the very annoyed Blatula to Sipsi, who is sitting on Megatron’s shouleder. He tries to reach for her awkwardly, as the height difference between him and Megatroni is consistent. Spiritus explains that their decision to let Shockwave on was taken not only considering the possibility of receiving the formula of the synthetic Energon, but also because apparently he was on the run with two very young bots, Scourge and Flama.

Theirs was simply an act of mercy-Spiritus and all the clones lag horribly as their grotesque voices yell that there are intruders in the Ventriculus. Everyone in the room jolts as Spiritus returns in control.

In a separate room off the ship Soundwave watches a Spiritus’ clone, broken on the ground. Slipstream explains that killing the guards is pointless as they are the Drivers’ vessels and now the whole ship is probably in panic mode. Soundwave brushes her off saying that soon it won’t matter anymore, but Slipstream stops him telling him that he better follow her lead as she has already been on the ship and knows it’s proprieties better than him. Soundwave silently stares at her.

Back on top of the ship Megatron, Sipsi, C.P. and Blatula are running down the hallway. Megatron asks what the Ventricoulus is and Sipsi explains that it’s one of the very few roads that leads directly to the Driver’s room, where Spiritus is actually located. If something happens to him, the ship is doomed. C.P. argues that is way too dangerous for Sipsi and him to go stop the intruders, but Sipsi is not going down Megatron’s shoulder, and so C.P. tags along.

Spiritus informs that the intruders are two bots, one of which is Slipstream (an old spine in the back) and a blue unknown bot. Megatron remembers vaguely to have worked with Slipstream in the past and recollects that she had the strange ability to get inside every building with no problem. With this thought in the back of his mind, he’s now very scared of loosing his new found home.

Ate the end of the hallway they meet the two intruders, Slipstream and… Soundwave?!

The now ex warlord orders Spiritus to spare his precious vessels as they would simply get destroyed. Blatula transforms into his inceticon form and warns Soundwave to stand down as he’s guilty of attacking the Driver. As an answer Soundwave emits a low frequency noise that hurts Blatula’s sensible hearing.

Megatron steps in angrily asking Soundwave, what he’s doing here, but Soundwave answers Megatron with his own registered question. Megatron freezes.

C.P. immediately accuses Shockwave to be part of this organized attack while honestly hoping to be wrong, but Megatron tells him that he might be right.

As Soundwave repeats Megatron’s registered question, the ex-warlord answer that he’s taking a break from everything and that is making that ship his home. As Soundwave repeats “taking a break” he starts talking with his voice, asking if Megatron will return after his break.

Megatron stares at him motionless. No, he’s never going back and if he had listened to his conversation with Shockwave (as he’s sure he did at this point) then he’ll even know why.

Soundwave looks down at his feet and with the saddest voice says:”We have failed you. Unicron hurt you.” Megatron takes a few steps back, alarmed by what Soundwave just said. No, it wasn’t the Unicron, he just thinks what he did is wrong… it was his own consciousness- he’s not scared, he’s not scared, or is he?

A feminine voice talks to his back and suggests him to ask it to his Mnemosurgeon. Megatron turns around to see Slipstream, coming half out of the ground like a ghost. She grabs him by his leg and drags him throughout the floor as he (and Sispsi who is on his shoulder) become intangible with her.

They cross the whole ship until they are out. Slipstream lets Megatron go and now both he and Sipsi are floating in space.

Inside the ship the situation is tragic. Soundwave and Slipstream are now in the Driver’s room, right in front of Spiritus’ body, or what’s left of it. Spiritus is inside a big cylinder full of liquid, his body missing several parts, he obviously can’t survive outside the containment. His head completely wired into the system. The thick glass would be impossible to penetrate normally.

Soundwave takes a mechanical spear with a shard of dark Energon on it and gives it to his partner. Slipstream uses her ability to become intangible and is able to penetrate the glass jamming the spear in Spiritus’ head. The whole ship screams. Shockwave from his room understands that the plan is in motion and exit his room with his Predacon, Galvatron.

Sipsi and Megatron watch the ship getting farther, Cybertron is visible, they are so close to home. Sipsi tells him to move and blast toward the ship, but Megatron seems to have given up already. He tells her how stupid he was to believe he could simply continue living alongside other living being. He then asks Sipsi what she sees when she looks in his mind. Now that he knows that she’s a Mnemosurgeon he understands why Blatula wanted her to check on him.

Sipsi doesn’t hide anything, of course they had to be sure! He’s Megatron damn it! But when he was offline, and they had to decide to put him down, she saw something in him, a spark of pity, a drop of humility, a river of remorse. But the greatest thing she found was the will to change into a better being.

Megatron asks her what she sees now; Sipsi replies saying that she sees a scared beast, a creature who doesn’t know how to stop his own creations. Sipsi begs Megatro to be strong and help her save her friends, her Sparkmate and her home. Megatron visualizes in his mind the Ghost a second time, he realizes that it was Sipsi. She also reveals that C.P. is her Sparkmate and that if he can’t fight for his own happiness, he can fight for hers. Megatron transforms a bolt toward the ship.

On Cybertron a crowd of cybertronians is waiting the arrival of the ship. We see a blue both with big wings, Thundercraker, talking to his hooded brother. He reassures him that once on the ship he’ll find a way to help him. Starscream from his hood looks at the sky with absent eyes. The crowd jolt as the ship crosses the clouds, but it’s not a ship anymore, it transformed! It’s monstrous, like a giant lantern fish. On top of that monstrosity is Shockwave.

As Megatron approaches he notices the odd shape that the ship has taken. Sipsi explain to him that before the ship was a Titan, a gigantic artificial Cybertronian, meant to take care of its citizen in case of catastrophe, but during the long period of wander, an infestation of SkrappHeads devoured the Titan’t brain, and Spiritus sacrificed to become the new “brain”.

As they get closer they see Autobots' air forces struggling to keep at bay a ferocious Galvatron. This diversion allows Megatron and Sipsi to pass unnoticed to the beast, and arrive directly do it’s master.

Inside the ship, there’s panic as the shape of the rooms are now warped. Scourge and Flama are curled under a table now fearing the worst.

In the Driver’s room C.P. and Blatula are kept down by now corrupted Spiritus’ clones while Slipstream is talking non stop for the excitement. She wonders what Shockwave has in mind, with a weapon like this they can literally do anything they want. She can’t wait to find her brothers and scoop them up. She wonders if any Decepticons was ever as talented as her, not even the mighty Megatron could nothing against her power, the secret is keeping once ability secret. The thing that Soundwave is very aware of and that’s why he waited the last second to stab Slipstream in the stomach with its bare hand. And now she’s on the floor, soaking in her own Energon. Soundwave doesn’t need her anymore and she’s too dangerous to keep alive.

Outside Megatron and Shockwave are face to face. The mad scientist explains how all of this is necessary to renew the fear; that after such a long time of peace a strong demonstration of terror is needed to heal the name of the Decepticons. Megatron stares at him bored. Shockwave then continues to say how he and many other Decepticons were forced into hiding and despair after that Megatron disappeared. Shockwave is doing all of this to ensure power again.

Megatron shushes him, now very annoyed. He tells with absolute calmness that he knows that Shockwave doesn’t give a crap about anyone, not even his young Sparkling, that could be potentially in danger right now. While he’s not sure what goes in Sounwave’s mind, Megatron knows the mad scientist too well to be fooled by his facade. Shockwave just wants to return to experiment, and with an all Autobot world he can’t do that! Was raising a life, not entertaining enough? Megatron asks to his friend. Or was he chased by someone with a score to settle?

Shockwave is now pointing his cannon at him, but Megatron continues. He mocks the scientist, who with all that knowledge decided to bring back to life fossiles and turn space ships into fishes.

Shockwave, a little angry, asks what’s the point of all this useless talk. Megatron responds by throwing Sipsi at him like a frisbee. He misses him by a lot, and the two remains to stare at each other, with Megatron objecting to Shockwave that he could at least laugh. The scientist responds by opening fire.

Megatron takes shelter behind a protrusion of the ship.

Inside the Driver’s chamber Soundwave prepares to kill Blatula and C.P.

Magatron outside keeps mocking Shockwave, he tells him “You can’t give the formula of the synthetic Energon to them, it’s not your invention to begin with, it’s Ratchet’s!” the blasting gets more intense.

Soundwave releases his tentacle arms ready to electrify to death his prisoners, but the arms stop and don’t sterch further enough.

Sipsi slowly but steadily makes a complete circle, fixing her direction with her tiny rockets.

Slipstream has sunk her hands in Soundwave’s body, she grabs the ends of the tentacle arms and any other organs in the way, and pulls out.

Sipsi arrives to attach to Shockwave’s upper back with surgical precision.

Soundwave screams in agony as his organs are pulled out.

Shockwave screams in terror as he feels his arms and legs fail.

With her last srengh slipstream extract the corrupting spear from Spiritus’s head and faints.

The ship takes a hard turn, just in time to avoid hitting a sea of terrified cybertronians. Shockwave loses his balance and falls off the ship.

Shockwave hits many corners of the ship before landing on the ground; he hits hard enough to detach Sipsi’s needles from his body. He quickly gets up and angrily aims his cannon at the Minicon, but Megatron lands besides him and with two arms grabs the canon and yanks it off. To Sipsi’s surprise, under Shockwave’s canon, there’s actually an arm.

As the scientist cowards back on his knees Megatron explains to Sipsi that Shockwave adores messing with other people, but hates it if the same thing happens to him, therefore he would have never actually cut off his arm to replace it with a canon.

Shockwave now cornered tells Megatron that, if he doesn’t let him go, he’ll tell everyone about him and he’ll never be able to live aboard the ship. Megatron tells him that to solve the issue the only logical thing is to kill him. The mad scientist scream in horror as Megatro rises up Shockwave’s canon against his previous owner.

Megatron suddenly hears Galvatron comimg at him at high speed, he turns around ready for the worst, but Spiritus has already taken back control, a quik maneuver and the giant lantern fish bites the Predacon in half. Galvatro falls near them, dead.

Inside the ship, Flama starts crying.

Shockwave pervaded by emotion rushes towards Galvatron, who exhale his last breath into his master's arms.

Megatron drops the canon on the grown and starts walking toward Shockwave.

Many hours later the ship is fully operating again and people are starting to go aboard. Megatron, Sipsi and C.P. are not there to welcome the newcomers. The three are in fact at the lowest level of the ship in the penitentiary area. Spiritus informs them that Slipstream survived and, if she behave, she will be given the opportunity to stay, rather than be forced to. He exits the room as the trio turns their attention to two small cells, each containing a prisoner. Shockwave and Soundwave look at the ex-warlord silently.

The mad scientist is the first to talk, asking when he’ll be aloud to see Scourge and Flama.

C.P. with a smug answer him that they will take care of them and that he doesn’t have to worry.

As the three are leaving Megatron hears his name being called by Soundwave, he turns around to see his once most loyal Decepticon closed into a tiny cage. Sounwave watches him without saying a word. Megatron would like to say something, but in the end decides to just leave.

While going back at the main hallway Blatula gifts Megatron a helmet to roughly hide his identity.

Moments later Sipsi and C.P. are approached by Thundercraker who asks for their help in order to heal the shattered brain of his brother, Starscream.

Megatron watches them leave, then sits down to look at the affluence of people. He sees all kinds of cybertronians going in an out. He feels like his eyes are starting to close, he’s tired. He gets up and walks back to his room. He really needs to sleep now.

[theskyeandsea]

How We Survive || Erin & Skylar

Timing: May 11th, 2020

Location: Nic and Skylar’s Home

Tagging: @corpse--diem

Description: Erin helps Skylar get her things back from where she left them after the events of this chatzy. Grateful for the help, Skylar shares her secret with the other woman.

TW: Medical Blood

Shutting her laptop, Skylar forced herself to slide out of bed. The second her feet hit the ground, a spasm of pain traveled up her injured calf and she held back a yelp. Biting the inside of her cheek, she took a deep breath before putting pressure on her feet and forcing herself to walk from her room out to the entryway. She could feel fresh blood beginning to seep through the bandages around her leg, but she’d doubled up on the dressing after she’d bled through the initial wrapping the woman on the beach had applied. Walking to the front door, she unlocked the door before making a bee-line to the living room. Dizzy from the effort, Skylar collapsed on the couch and leaned her head against the armchair. A cold sweat had broken on her forehead, but she needed to be here. To make sure that Erin would come in and see her-- not Nic. She didn’t need him to know how poorly she was doing. She didn’t want to bother him with… any of this. When a knock came from the door, she raised her voice as much as she could, “Come in!”

The voice on the other side was one Erin was only just getting familiar with. Sounded like Skylar but it also… didn’t? When she flew into the home in a flurry and saw the young woman on the couch, pale and sweaty, her panic seemed wholly founded. “Jesus, Skylar,” she murmured under her breath, kneeling in front of the couch. She only felt a little awkward, fussing over someone she didn’t really know all too well. Knew enough that she was a good soul who was in a bad way right now. “What happened?” She asked, hesitant to do more than give her a proper glance over and touch her forehead to make sure she wasn’t running a fever. Infections could sneak up quick and that seemed like the last thing they needed to be worrying about on top of all of this. 

In one moment, Skylar was alone on the couch. In the next, Erin was next to her, pressing her hand against her forehead. A bit startled, she blinked as the woman began to speak, the words hard to hear. Without her hearing aids, it was difficult for her to hear the higher pitched tones. And, on top of it, her head was spinning as she tried to read the woman’s lips. Doing her best to focus, Skylar swallowed thickly, head lolling slightly. “I… I was at the river. I couldn’t talk. And…” She hesitated for a moment. Nic knew about her secret, but Erin-- she wasn’t a part of this, was she? She didn’t know what Nic did, right? But, she couldn’t think of any way to lie about this, her head was still spinning too much. Slumping against the back of the couch, she shook her head, “A hunter came after me. He wanted my skin. I’m… not, not human.” She said. “But, I need, I need my hearing aids back. I need my car. And… and… everything.”

Fuck. In her panic, Erin had nearly forgotten that Skylar didn’t have her hearing aid. But she sat back, confident she wasn’t fighting a fever at this rate, and listened. A hunter. Skylar wasn’t human. Her eyes grew wide as the questions started to pile up and something Marley said felt like it was screaming on top of all of that. Hunters would kill me without a second though. She didn’t know where to begin and could only nod slowly. Whatever Skylar was, above all, she was kind. And she needed help. “Alright,” she spoke slowly, keeping her own features as soft as possible despite the concern wracking her insides. “We’ll get them back. Don’t worry about that.” She gave her another glance over, trying to remain as level-headed as possible, then met her eyes again. “I can get them later? Is that okay? Or do you need them now?”

Fighting against the urge to close her eyes, Skylar did her best to keep herself alert and awake. The pain in her leg was keeping her awake, the slight jostling of Erin leaning next to her enough to make the wound in her leg yell in protest. “I need them. They’re… my car. They’re in my car with my phone and my, my teeth.” She said, her head hanging low as she avoided Erin’s eyes. She didn’t want her to see the teeth, her horrible, jagged teeth, their tips dulled from when she had tried to file them down as a child. The teeth that had ripped through that man’s arm, shredded it as though it was nothing. Swallowing, she could still taste the coppery, thick blood in her mouth. “I… please. Please don’t tell Nic. I-- I don’t want him to know about this.” She pleaded, looking at Erin with earnest, desperate eyes. 

Her teeth? Erin couldn’t help it, and her eyes instantly went to the ones that were definitely in her mouth already. Sharp ones. Oh. Of all the bombs Skylar had been dropping, this one still threw her for a loop. By this point, running in the opposite direction of a nonhuman species wasn’t her MO anymore, thankfully. But she’d definitely have more questions for her when she got back. “I’ll go get them,” she nodded, withdrawing and standing above her, crossing her arms against her stomach. “Where, uh--where did you leave your car? By what river?” She held her hand up, urging Skylar to stay. “I’ll go. You just stay here and rest, okay?”

Erin had seen her teeth, of course she had. Skylar grimaced, this time not out of pain, but of regret. This wasn’t how she wanted to tell her about this. In fact, she had honestly hoped not to tell Erin about it ever. But, she was here, helping her. Swallowing, Skylar gestured to the key ring by the door where her spare set of car keys were. “It’s parked out by the Whye River. Off the road, not far from the university. I… My things should all be there.” At the woman’s urging her to stay, she wanted to protest. But, just the effort of pulling herself out of bed to unlock the door had left her dizzy. “Okay. Sounds good.” She said with a nod. As she spoke, Dundee padded across the floor, jumping up onto the couch to curl up next to her. While she still didn’t like the dog, at least she’d have company until Erin came back.

Erin nodded, her instructions pretty clear. “And don’t worry--I won’t tell Nic,” she blurted out after she grabbed the spare keys. Remembered just now that Skylar had pleaded with her about that. Didn’t feel great, but when Skylar looked at her like that, entrusting her with something as big as this? She couldn’t turn her back on that trust. It didn’t take her too long to find Skylar’s car when she finally got there. The car would have to stay for now--it didn’t look like Skylar was in a state to drive anywhere just yet--but she bundled all of Skylar’s belongings into a bag, quickly and quietly. Doubted that the hunter was still around, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious anyway. In and out in less than a half hour, Erin was pulling back into the their driveway. “It’s me!” She called out loudly as she entered the house.. So far, no Nic. “Still doing okay?” She asked as she found Skylar still on the couch, the little dog saddled up against her. She couldn’t help but smile as she passed off her belongings, taking a seat across from her on the coffee table. 

Skylar hardly noticed when Erin left, she was already falling back asleep. The pain, it was searing and awful when she moved. But, when she was still, she was able to ignore it just enough to fall asleep. Dundee, for his part, didn’t bother her much. He was happy to just wedge himself next to her and the couch cushion, curled up in a little ball. In her dreams, Skylar could still see flashes of the man, staring at her. The gun, trained on her, pressed against her. And the blood. All of the blood. She wasn’t entirely sure what woke her, the dreams or the feeling of the door slamming shut behind Erin, sending a slight shockwave of movement through the otherwise still house. Staring blearily at her, Skylar blinked, not sure what Erin had said. But, it didn’t really matter. Her phone, the cases with her hearing aids and veneers, they were on the table. Leaning forward, she grabbed her hearing aids and immediately slipped them on. Sound. She could hear Dundee snuffling in his sleep, could hear the hollow sound of her case hitting the table. A sense of relief, the first in weeks, washed over her. “Thank you. I… I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t get my things back.” She said swallowing. “I’m sorry. For bothering you. For making you go to the trouble.”

“It’s no problem, really,” Erin insisted, offering a small smile at the very visible relief washing over Skylar at the moment. Those questions she had were still sitting at the tip of her tongue, but bombarding the injured girl with them right off the bat didn’t seem like the best move. So she watched her, a little more anxious than she was conveying. “Can I get you anything else? Water? Are you hungry? I can make something?” Her eyes moved to the area Skylar was nursing the most, no doubt where she’d been shot. Erin lifted the tote bag she’d brought over originally as well. “I brought some more bandages too, in case you need it. Just--say the word. Whatever you need. I’m here to help.”

A bit disoriented from the sudden return of sound, it took Skylar a little to process all the words that Erin was saying. Instead of immediately answering, she sat up and looked at her phone-- it had died, but at least she had it back. Her ID and credit card was still tucked into the pack of the case, which was another relief. She didn’t bother cracking open her case with her veneers, she wasn’t going to put those in right now. Looking at the tote bag, Skylar looked at her a little apprehensively. “I’m not hungry, but thank you. I… Do you--” Pausing, she mulled over her words, not sure how to ask this. She didn’t want to look at her leg. She didn’t want to see it again. But, she needed to change the bandages. And if Erin was offering them, she wouldn’t say no. “Thank you. I’ve… I’ve been running out. I,” She swallowed, very aware of her mouth full of sharp teeth. “I’m a selkie and, apparently we have a lot of blood. So… I’ve had trouble with the bandages.” Skylar said, not wanting to go into the details of her situation. Even if Erin worked at the mortuary, she didn’t want to share all that. 

“You should still eat,” Erin added on without thinking. Human, selkie, whatever--when you were bleeding like this, you needed to stay nourished. Obviously she didn’t know much about what Skylar was, but as a general rule for most life forms, that statement would hold true. “One sec,” she said and disappeared into the bathroom. Grabbed the first aid kit she bought Nic for his birthday, hoping he hadn’t used it up already. There was plenty to utilize still, but she couldn’t help but notice that he’d already dipped into it. Not shocking. She returned with warm washrags, just in case and gestured towards Skylar’s leg for permission. Knelt down near her again, glancing up at her warily for just a moment, then focused back on preparing the bandages. “So,” she cleared her throat, trying not to look at her teeth. Just the gauze and tape. “What’s a selkie?”

“It’s okay. I’ll eat later.” As kind as it was for Erin to offer, Skylar really didn’t want food. Not only was she not hungry, she didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness of explaining that she couldn’t eat anything that wasn’t meat. And she didn’t want to eat and show her teeth. She knew that they were awful to look at, she hated looking at them just as much other people probably did. But, she wasn’t about to put her veneers in after they’d been sitting in her car for days. When Erin returned with a familiar looking first aid kit, Skylar grimaced but nodded all the same. Sliding her leg off the couch, she showed Erin the bandages around her calf. They were dyed dark brown, with fresh spots of red bleeding through as well. She’d only just changed them this morning. “Um. So. They’re people who can turn into seals. Not like… werewolves do, but when they want to.” She said, not super willing to go into detail about her skin. She liked Erin and she was doing her a big favor by helping her out. But… she still didn’t like talking about the specifics of her situation.

Seals? Had Erin heard that right? She didn’t mean to be surprised by that, but of all the creatures she could’ve chosen to be able to morph into, seals didn’t even touch the list. From the way Skylar seemed to withdraw with each question. “Sorry,” she grimaced, getting to work with the bandages. She wasn’t squeamish, but Skylar hadn’t been kidding about the sheer amount of blood. “We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to,” she assured the younger woman. “I’ve just--literally never heard of that. Of selkies.” It sounded like something that could’ve lived in folklore. Selkies. Bugbears. Hunters. Maras. Zombies. That was her world though, wasn’t it? Her’s as much Skylar’s. She suddenly felt very little at the thought. “But that’s why this guy came after you? Just because of--that?”

Glancing down at her leg, Skylar averted her eyes as Erin helped her with the bandages. She might not want to talk about… her selkie situation, but it was better than looking at her leg. Shifting slightly, she winced as the movement aggravated the wound. “Thanks. And, I get that… before I moved here, neither had I.” She said with a glum expression on her face. Just a year ago, she was still living with her parents. She was still in school, she was still talking to her family. And now… she had been stabbed, hunted, shot, was best friends with an actual zombie and was living with pretty much Batman. Her life was nothing like she thought it would be. Swallowing, she nodded. “He wanted something of mine. And when I didn’t… didn’t let him take it, he shot me.” Skylar said, a lump forming in the back of her throat. The hunter had meant to kill her. Even if she was still alive, she couldn’t shake the fact that he wanted her to die. If she hadn’t bit him, if she hadn’t fought back, she would probably… be dead. Biting the inside of her cheek, she looked at Erin again. “There are people out there who hunt people like me. I’d only ever met good ones before, but… he,” Skylar stared out into space, lost in the memory of him signing at her, “He was evil.” She said numbly.

A man wanted something, didn’t get his way, and reacted violently. Something tensed in Erin at the explanation. Not because of Skylar, of course. Anyone who could react that way to someone as kind as her was nothing short of a monster, human or not. “And you didn’t get a name? Could you describe him?” She asked, wiping some of the dried blood that had caked around her wound. It wasn’t as bad as she had been picturing, but it wasn’t great either. “You should tell Nic,” she added after a long pause, biting her lip. He deserved to know, and he could be more of a help than anyone in catching the bastard. Placed a fresh gauze pad down and glanced back up at her. “And if you can’t tell him, I have a friend who could probably help track him down too.”

Noticing the way that Erin reacted, the way her shoulders seemed to tighten, Skylar blinked. She didn’t expect that sort of reaction. But, before she could answer her question, the edge of the wound twinged and she let out a quiet hiss of pain. “Ah.. No. It was dark. I couldn’t get a good look at him.” She lied, looking at her hands in her lap. As much as she hated the man, as much as she hated how much pain and fear he’d caused her… she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. If he was a Hunter, raised like Rio, like Nic… She couldn’t blame him for giving in. For becoming the murderer his family wanted him to be. Not everyone could be brave enough, or strong enough, to escape the circumstances of their family. At the mention of Nic, Skylar shook her head. “I don’t want him to worry about me. He’s got enough going on. And I… It’s okay. I don’t, I don’t want anything to do with the man who did this.” She said. As Erin applied the new bandages, Skylar focused on keeping her breathing even and smooth, even though her heart felt like it was going a mile a minute. “Thank you, though. For the offer.”

Erin tried to be as gentle as possible as she finished up. It wasn’t a deep wound, a graze more than anything, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t going to hurt still. In her defense, most of the wounds she patched up weren’t on live people. She had to remind herself to work with a little more finesse. “He’s going to find out either way,” Erin raised a brow at Skylar’s argument. They lived together. And it had taken everything Skylar had just to get close to the door to greet her earlier. Had she told anyone about what happened? Had Erin finding this all out just been a matter of circumstance and luck? She shook her head, gently resting her leg back onto the couch and moved to the far end to give her space. “If there’s someone out there who’s just going to go around shooting people, someone’s got to put a stop to it.” Erin insisted again, finding Skylar’s eyes Didn’t feel right dropping it like this. “What if he does this to someone else? Because he will. If he could do it to you, he could do it to anyone. Don’t you want to stop that before it happens?”

As the bandages were wrapped back in place, Skylar felt the stress ease from her shoulders. She hadn’t even realized she’d been so tense. “Nic already knows that I got shot, I just… I don’t want him to go and do something that would put himself in danger. The man who did this, I didn’t know who he was. I’ve never even seen him before.” She said, shaking her head. She was sure Nic was more than competent at his job. But, she didn’t want him to put himself in danger because of her. As Erin slipped away, Dundee raised his head sleepily from next to her. With a small sigh, Skylar rested her hand tentatively on the dog’s head. The chihuahua let out a small yawn before going back to sleep, unaware of what was happening around him. “I don’t-- that’s not… I just…” She sucked in a deep breath, not sure how to explain her feelings. Who was she kidding? She didn’t even understand why she felt this way. The man had shot her, hurt her. She should hate him. She should want him dead. But… “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. And I don’t want anyone to die. Not even him.”

“I’m not saying we go run off after him with pitchforks, but Skylar--he tried to kill you.” Erin scoffed, baffled she had to actually say the words. “Someone’s already hurt, and I don’t care if this is what he does for a living--it doesn’t make it okay. There should be consequences.” Maybe Skylar was too kind to see it that way. And even if she did, and she was fighting it, it was too late for Erin to bottle those emotions back up. Not when she was sitting here after redressing her wound, watching her lay quietly on the couch. When the effort of doing anything else was too much for the young woman to bear. “Let me ask around, at least. Maybe see what I can find out. I know you can’t remember what he looked like, but someone’s out there telling a story about almost catching a selkie.” Right? Probably.

“I know.”  Skylar said, her voice firmer than she felt. And, the reality of the statement, it terrified her. But, the taste of the blood in her mouth, the way it had felt when her jaws clamped down around the man’s arm… that was even scarier to her. She had attacked him. She had bit him. And it had brought her right back to when she was a child, shocked and scared and so, so angry. And she didn’t want to be that way. She couldn’t be that way. Going after him, after he’d come after her? She wouldn’t do it. “I…” She said, but the words didn’t come. How could she possibly explain this to Erin? How could she explain any of this? Leaning back into the couch, Skylar looked at her with tired eyes. “What will you do when you find him? He shot me, like this. He doesn’t care if people look human.” Or if they desperately want to be. 

What would Erin do? That was a good question. If she could get Skylar to see some reason here, and speak to the police, they could get him put away. If Erin had her way, she’d sick Marley on him. Make the man cry from his own fears. She shook her head, glancing down at her lap, knowing either of those answers were unlikely to happen. “I don’t know. But I sure as hell don’t like that he’s out there.” She rubbed the side of her face before letting her head rest in her palm, elbow on the back of the couch. “I can’t make you do anything, but I think you should. That’s all I’m saying,” she watched her, a pang of guilt piercing her chest at Skylar’s exhausted features. “And… if or when you want to do anything, I’m here. Don’t forget that.”

“I don’t like it either. I just don’t… want anyone to die. Not even him.” Skylar said. When she’d stared at the man, when she’d seen him, really seen him-- she’d said the first words in nearly a week. That she forgave him. Not for what he’d done, not really, but for who he was. Who he had become. She forgave him for the mistakes he’d made. Mulling over the woman’s words, Skylar let out a sigh. “What do you think I should do?” She asked. She genuinely wanted to know what Erin thought. Because, in her eyes, there wasn’t anything she could do other than hide and look around every corner, trying to protect herself from an attack that could come from any direction. If she went to the police, they’d ask why she hadn’t told them sooner. They’d ask why she didn’t go to the hospital. And then she’d be subject to a whole host of questions that she didn’t even want to think about, much less answer. 

Erin mulled over her question for a long moment. There were plenty of things she’d do that Skylar likely wouldn’t agree to. Going to the police, for one, was at the top of the list. Going after this fucker with everything she had was also battling for first place. But that wasn’t realistic for Skylar she realized. “I think you should rest. And heal,” she nodded, leaning forward, wringing her hands together. Gave her a brief smile. “I know what I would do, but I don’t think you and I want the same things.” She stood again, crossing her arms over her chest, letting out a long sigh. “I’m hoping maybe you’ll change your mind once you’re feeling better but if you don’t, that’s okay too.”

Rest sounded good. Healing… The wound would heal, she knew it would. But the rest of it? Skylar wasn’t so sure how easily that would come. But, it was nice of Erin to say that, even if it wasn’t what she would do. “I think I’ll do those things. Or at least,” Skylar swallowed, thinking back to the images that haunted her every time she closed her eyes. “I think I’ll try.” She said with a weak smile. At Erin’s last words, her smile faltered. Even if she didn’t change her mind, it’d be okay? Blinking, Skylar looked at her hands. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had said that to her. That it was okay. For her to stay the same, that she didn’t need to change. “Thank you.” She nodded, not meeting Erin’s gaze. “For, um, for everything.”

Erin watched Skylar’s eyes dip, clearly avoiding her. She understood. She’d probably do the same if the roles were reversed. Accepting help wasn’t easy. “Hey, thanks for letting me help,” she smiled softly, watching Dundee move just enough to curl against Skylar a little more snugly. “Can I do anything else?” She asked, that empty feeling where direction action against that motherfucker should be shouting at her. “Are you sure I can’t make you anything to eat?” She raised her eyebrows hopefully. “Maybe watch a movie or something, if you want the company?”

At Erin’s words, Skylar offered a small, tight lipped smile. She didn’t want to flash her teeth at her, she knew how it looked. But, it felt… nice, in a way. To be taken care of. To know that, for the moment, she was safe and looked after. Even if it was coming from someone she hardly knew. “No, thanks. But… Company would be really nice actually.” She said. As much as she liked living here, she still wasn’t used to how large it was, how empty it felt with only her and Nic and the little dog in the house. Particularly now, when Nic wasn’t around. Reaching out to grab the remote from the table, Skylar handed it to Erin. “You can go ahead and pick, I don’t mind what we watch.” She said. Having someone else here, to help her feel less alone, less afraid, that was what really mattered. 

“You got it,” Erin smiled over at her, grabbing the remote from her. Gave Dundee a little pat on the head before taking a seat at the far end of the couch again. This was a little weird, they could both probably feel that, especially given the shiny, new information Skylar had tossed her way with this one visit. Weird how that worked out, too. Erin helped the living grieve. She was good at that. Knew what to say before someone could even whip out the tissues. Comforting someone like this? That was still taking some getting used to. But she was here now, so she would stay and do what she could.

[americaswritings]

Fight you

Warnings: angst, a little dramtic lol, horrible writing tbh

Prompt: “I will fight you”

Summary: You’re on Caps team while Peter is on Team Iron Man. Will you really go as far hurting each other or can your friendship still be saved?

Words: 1.7k

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

A/N: Takes place during Civil War. This is for @thedevilwearsvibranium writing challenge! Congrats!! 💓 

Add yourself to my taglist!

You made your way over to Peters apartment. Your backpack felt heavier on your shoulders with every step you took, mirroring your nervousness and the uneasy feeling in your stomach.

You had to tell Peter something, which could lead into not only an argument, but a fight.

The way to his apartment was too short for you liking. When you reached the front door of the building you hadn’t prepared your words at all.

But there was no way out of this so you sighed and pushed the door open.

May let you in with a big smile on her face, returning to the kitchen to continue baking what smelled like cookies.

You walked over to Peters room, taking a deep breath before knocking on his door.

“Come in”, you heared his voice and you opened the door, seeing Peter bent over his computer.

His face lit up when he saw that it was you and he stopped his work instantly.

“Hey, did I forget something?”, he wondered, but you shook your head.

“No, I just came to- you know- tell you something”, you stated, sitting down on Peters bed insecure.

He sensed that whatever you had to tell him was serious so he sat down next to you, patiently waiting for you to speak up.

“Clint called me”, you began and Peters face twisted in realization. He knew where this was going.

Since Peter had revealed to you that he was spiderman, you had helped him as much as possible, including accompanying him when he first met the avengers.

While Peter spend most of the time with Tony working on a new suit you waited in the living room.

The other avengers didn’t have much time, being busy with missions and other secret stuff, but Clint was always there for you, talking and helping you overcome the time Peter was gone.

You two had grown close so it was only logical that he was the first one you turned to when you discovered that something was different about you.

A wave of energy you had never felt before was flooding your body, giving you a sudden strength you didn’t know how to handle.

You didn’t tell Peter at first, since he had already many problems on his own, but after you pushed him a little too hard while tickling each other, you couldn’t hide the truth from him anymore.

You later found out that you were able to manipulate the constant vibrations of the universe, which allowed you to produce shockwaves and gave you the ability to affect objects by shaking and moving them.

“What did he say?”, Peter asked, although he already knew the answer to his question. 

“He wanted to recruit me on Caps team”, you stated, your eyes scanning Peters face for any hint on what he felt.

“But you said no, didn’t you?”, he concluded with an stiff laugh.

You stayed silent, knowing that this was the part you had feared the most.

“You said no, didn’t you?”, Peter repeated more forcefully this time and you adverted your gaze to the ground.

“I can’t let them down”, you mumbled instead and you heared Peter snort. “You can’t be serious”, he whispered, while getting up from the bed to pace the room.

“What else should I have done?”, you snapped, giving him a pleading look to understand your decision.

“Say no?”, Peter suggested with a huff.

“You know I can’t do that”, you reasoned and he stopped pacing. “You know what that means, do you?”, he asked and you slowly nodded.

“It means that we will be enemies (y/n)! We will have to fight each other in two days!”, Peter went on, the rage and desperation visible in his voice.

“I won’t fight you”, you whispered, turning your gaze back to his.

“But I will”, he declared and you felt your jaw clapping open.

“I will fight you.”

“Why?”, you murmured, starring up at Peter with big eyes. The shock must have been visible on your face, because he shifted uncomfortably.

“Mr. Stark- they are all counting on me”, Peter tried to argue, but you shook your head.

“So this is your decision?”, you asked, tears making their way into your eyes.

He put his chance to prove himself over your friendship?

“I don’t have a choice”, Peter hissed, but you shook your head again.

“You always have a choice”, you commented, grabbing your backpack, and left the room, not looking back at the heartbroken boy once again.

-

“Are you sure about this? You can always back out, you know that right?”

Clints voice woke you out of your thoughts, but you kept putting on your suit.

“I have to do this”, you cut him off and he knew that it was time to let it go.

You had just arrived in germany, everyone preparing for the plan.

In only a matter of time you had to face Peter, your best friend, your enemy.

Your only hope was that maybe you could fight somebody else and didn’t have to face him in a hand-to-hand combat.

But soon you found yourself standing in the group of your team, directly facing Tony and the others. 

You couldn’t discover Peter anywhere and for a split of a second you hoped that maybe he had changed his mind, but suddenly you saw a small figure jumping through the air, landing gracefully on the opposite side.

Peter was dressed in his new spiderman suit, Captain americas shield in his hands, which he had stolen during his arrival.

A few words were exchanged, but you didn’t really pay attention. All you could focus on was the boy in front of you.

It broke your heart to see him like this, not even paying attention to you. 

All he was focused on was proving himself to Tony and as much as you saw that he wanted to please the man, who was like a father figure to him, you couldn’t understand how easily he threw away your friendship.

Surely, you were the one agreeing on joying Caps team, but you had never imagined that you had to fight Peter. You would have refused, but here you were. 

He seemed to have made his decision, so why shouldn’t you do too?

The fight followed soon. Everyone began running towards their opponents and you did the same. You picked Natasha, who was trying to throw punches at Clint.

Within a second you had send a shockwave at her, sending her several meters through the air until she fell to the ground.

You wanted to go at her again, but a pain shot through your back and you were thrown to the ground.

Black panther was standing behind you, ready to attack you again.

You send a shockwave at him but he ducked away in time and began attacking you.

While his fists collided with your body you wondered why no one had thought about teaching you self defence.

You tried your best to escape his grip, but it was too firm. Helplessly you felt your panic increase, but in a last attempt to get rid of your oponent you kicked him.

The second he was distracted you used to free yourself from his grip, rolling to the side and standing up again quickly.

Before he could attack you, you send a shockwave at him, sending him through the air away from you.

The fight seemed to endure ages, but also went on too quickly.

You needed to be focused every second. Every little distraction could be determining how this would end.

Sweat was dripping down your forehead and your hair was flying wild around your shoulders, but the adrenaline kept you going.

Suddenly you saw a red-blue figure and not a second later you stood directly face to face with him.

Spiderman.

Peter Parker.

You were only a few inches apart, but it felt like something was seperating you. A barrier, a thin line turning you into enemies.

You had prepared for this to happen, considered his weaknesses and planned how you could overpower the spiderboy. 

But now, when you were directly facing him, you felt frozen.

You couldn’t attack him. It felt wrong, no, it was wrong. This was your best friend and you wouldn’t try to hurt him no matter what.

Even if that meant losing. Peter was worth it.

“I’m not gonna fight you”, you spoke up, your voice calm and steady.

Somehow you didn’t feel nervous nor afraid. You didn’t fear Peter attacking you and you didn’t fear giving up.

It didn’t make you weak, but strong.

No one could ever be able to make you turn against Peter, your best friend, the person you felt at home with.

Peters face twisted in confusion, but he seemed determined. “But I will”, he said and you nodded, waiting for him to get it over with.

Peter stepped a little closer, his hand ready to shoot a web at you, but you could see the determination on his face leaving him.

Deep inside he knew this was wrong.

“I have to do this”, Peter whispered, the inner conflict displaying on his features.

You nodded, relaxed and prepared for what would follow.

“Then do it”, you encouraged him with a small smile.

This somehow irriated Peter even more and you could see his hand shaking.

“C’mon it’s just a little web”, you chuckled, but you knew that this wasn’t about what impact it would have on you. It was about if he would do it. If he was willing to let this destroy your friendship. If a simple decision could make him attack his best friend.

“I can’t”, Peter confessed, his hand falling to his side again.

Tears had filled his vision and his face was twisted in confusion.

You carefully walked over to him, embracing the boy in your arms with a smile.

He was surprised at first, but then pulled you close to him.

“I knew you wouldn’t do it”, you muttered proudly, forgetting that you were in the midst of a battlefield.

Peter made you forget, about all the pain and hopelessness in the world.  When you were with him it didn’t matter.

You were at home.

Little did you know Tony had been watching the two of you, but instead of disappointment a proud smile was covering his face.

He had been right about Peter all along. He was better than him.

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[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Complementary (Collins x OC) Chapter 20: Over

Summary: The war is done. Jack finally learns of what happened to Genevieve.

AN: I’m aware the gif is from War & Peace but just get a load of that expression. That’s a lot of pain he’s in. Gee whiz I wonder how that’s relevant to this chapter ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Previous Chapter     Masterlist     Next Chapter     Gif Credit 

 Jack leant his head against the window, the chatter amongst soldiers tuned out like a weak radio signal. He subconsciously rubbed the bandage that tightly bound his broken fingers. The shrill whistle of the train and the squealing of brakes took a while to break him out of his trance. The station came into view so he lifted his head off the glass pane, smoothing out his hair.

 The war was over. He was going home. His ma was waiting at the station for him. All his siblings were back from their respective stations. His father was brought home a year prior and survived the bombings. Jack was alive. He’d survived the explosion that destroyed his base. He had minimal injury. He should be happy.

 His bundle of letters was in front of him, still in his cigarette case. Cigarettes didn’t really calm him down anymore so something that did took their place. Taking the case in his hand, Jack pressed it against his lips. The photo was on top but he didn’t trust himself to look at it without flinching. Her final letter was slightly crushed at the bottom, the small paragraph of warning crumpled. It was his least favourite letter.

 The train stopped and the sea of green uniforms fought to get onto the platform first. Jack was on the wrong side of the train to watch the platform so he dropped and stared at his hands on the table. His memory failed to capture the image perfectly but he could almost see what was prominent in it: the ceramic mugs, the makeshift pillow, the tufts of damp brown hair. He tried to picture her voice telling him to keep his blanket, to get some sleep, but it didn’t sound quite right.

 The image faded as he stood then stumbled onto the station platform. He was pushed on all sides by family members, partners and friends of the soldiers but he was nearly numb to their shoving. His eyes tiredly scanned the platform for a familiar face. Part of him regretfully was searching for her but he knew that she was almost definitely not going to be there. And the “almost” kept him fruitlessly searching.

 “Jack?”

 There.  

 “Ma,” He breathed, finally feeling something when Cora stood before him. A warm tingle grew in his stomach as he stumbled over to his mother and clung to her tightly. It took a moment for him to recognise that tears – his tears – were soaking his mother’s pea coat. His big clumsy hands clutched her shoulders in criss-cross.

 “My boy, look at you. Oh you’re ok now,” She held his face, wiping away his tears. In spite of his towering height and age of thirty years, he felt so small. It was like he was five again and he’d scraped his knee. Ma would kiss his cheek and hold him until he felt better. Except now he didn’t know if he could ever feel better.

 “All my babies, safely home,” Cora whispered then she saw his bandage, “What the hell happened to your hand?”

 “Just got it trapped in a door.”

 “You idjit,” She lightly tapped his cheek and Jack gave a short puff of air to show amusement, “Now, I have somethin’ for you.” She fumbled in her pockets, her accent thickening as she muttered angrily, unable to find it.

 “What is it?” Jack sniffed, brushing away another tear.

 “Post, I think it’s about Genevieve,” Cora replied. Jack tensed visibly, his legs locking.

 “Ma, not now, please,” He whispered, his voice thick.

 “Nonsense, Jack, I got this years ago and you will open it.”

 Without any energy to argue, Jack awaited the bright yellow card to be retrieved from his mother’s pockets.

 “There,” She held out an envelope.

 Jack’s heart started. It wasn’t a telegram signifying the death of a soldier. It was a real letter. He inspected it. It was different to what Genevieve’s set was. Instead of cream card, it was white and flimsy. The return address stamped on the back was a hospital. There was something weighted inside.

 “Jack, open the damn letter. I’ve waited two years to know what it says!” Cora shook her son’s shoulder.

 His hands too tired, too tense to shake, Jack lifted off the envelope flap and pulled out a sheet of the same weak paper. He took a deep breath to brace himself and began to read. The colour drained from his face as his eyes scanned across the lines until he was paler than the paper. His face contorted itself into one of agony before Cora’s very eyes.

 “Jack?” She touched her son’s face again. Jack’s legs dropped from underneath him, a shockwave shooting up his knees as he landed on the concrete of the platform, and he let out a loud cry of anguish. Aghast at this, Cora knelt in front of him, clutching his hands. They were lost in the seas of soldiers.

 “Jack, what is it? What’s wrong with Genevieve?” She demanded, her own voice filled with fear. Instead of answering, Jack let out a low moan, holding his mother’s hands to his head as he cried like a helpless child.

 “Jack, we have to move,” Cora urged, dragging her son to his feet and leading him towards the waiting room. Surprisingly, it was empty. No one left to wait for their soldiers to return home. Clutching the letter to his chest, Jack fell into a chair with a gasp for breath and started sobbing uncontrollably. He couldn’t get any words out amidst his wailing and nearly couldn’t breathe; his emotions were crushing his chest.

 “Jack, tell me what’s wrong!” Cora snatched the letter from him and he let out a howl as if she’d ripped off one of his limbs before trying to muffle his sobs into his sleeve but he couldn’t stop. The envelope was clenched between his two fingers, just shy of being crushed in his fist.

 Cora eased it from his fingers and took his hand, ignoring the pain as he grappled with it. Taking his non-verbal advice, she took a moment to compose herself then began to read the letter. 

22/06/43

My love, Jack,

I’m in a hospital in England as I’m writing this. I was shot in the left shoulder, got shrapnel in my leg and hit in the head during a shift gone wrong. I will be alright. Miraculously all the metal dodged my vital arteries. I’ve had to re-teach myself how to keep my hand steady, I’m going to have chronic pain for the rest of my life, I had to get some of my head shaved for the operation and I may need a cane but I’m alive. No brain damage and no lobotomies needed and the shaved part is hidden under the rest of the hair. Just six more months of bed rest.

Commander Deaton was killed in action. So was most of my unit. There are four of us who survived. Apparently, they found me on their retreat and managed to get me to safety before I bled out. They all received bullet wounds on their run out but they saved me. We’re in the same ward, trying to get better. Once we’re healed, we’ll be home for a few days before heading back to help with the war effort.

I’ve been granted leave for the remainder of the war. I’m useless to the forces now. So I’ll be in England for the foreseeable future (unless the army get desperate but that’s unlikely) I’ll probably end up in a factory. Maybe I’ll stick it out with my family at the farm. It’s safe in the country and they’ll certainly have chores for me.

I wish I could’ve written sooner but I only got this paper yesterday after correcting the tremor in my hand. I don’t even know if you’re still alive. I hope to God that you are. I heard your location had been bombed so I wrote to your mother’s address so there’s at least a chance that you get this letter. 

I saw these outside my window in the herb garden. One of the nurses said, when they are gifted to a loved one, it represents the notion of walking together hand in hand and express the joys that your love and life can bring. I think it summarises my feelings fairly well. What I wrote in my last letter wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. I hope it wasn’t for you either. You have no idea how far your final letter got me and I pray with all my being that you are still here so we can reunite. Please, stay safe, my love.

Your Ginny x

 “Jack, did you read this properly?” Cora said, her voice far-away in the distant. Jack nodded; his face was sodden with tears.

 “She’s alive,” He whispered with a gulping gasp, “She’s alive.”

 Cora looked at her son with almost angry confusion, “That’s good! That’s good, you silly boy! You worried me! You made me think she was dead!”

 Finally looking back at the envelope, Jack took it from Cora and shook it, still expecting dog tags of a dead soldier to tumble out. But sure enough, there were two dark pink cosmos that smelt faintly of chocolate pressed into the other shitty sheet of paper. He held it against his face, breathing deeply and smiling for the first time in months. Years.

 “I have to go to the hospital. I need to find her,” He sniffed, taking the letter back from his ma and slotting them into the envelope.

 “Oh no,” Cora yanked him to his feet, “You are too in a state to do anything.”

 Jack was stricken, “But I need to see her! I have to know she’s ok!”

“As much as I love Genevieve, your true love can wait another day. You’re comin’ home, you’re havin’ some food, you’re getting in that bath – because you’re stinkin’ up a storm – and you’re gonna get some rest. Then you can find her.” 

 AN: Yeah, I decided I wanted to continue this series because I love it so much.

Perma-tag: @tomgcsglasses and @lowdenglynnstyles​

Complementary tag: @you-are-the-first-dream​, @disneydirectioner​ and @lavidademarimar​

[pocketseizure]

The Legend of the Princess, Chapter Nine

The Tipping of an Hourglass

In which Zelda presses Impa for answers about the history of Hyrule. 

(Chapter Nine on AO3) (Story Tag on Tumblr) (Cover Illustration)

* * * * *

Zelda allowed the ocarina to fall to the floor between the library bookshelves, not caring if it broke. She dashed to the window looking out over the garden. The sky was a pale powdery blue, and the outer wall of the castle was only barely visible over the tops of the trees. The reflection mirrored on the window glass was unmistakably that of her own face.

She sighed with relief. Thanks to the grace of the goddess, she had been able to make it back to her own time.

When she ordered that the Demon King be killed, he had roared like an erupting volcano, and she immediately understood why he allowed himself to walk into her castle unarmed. He was possessed of a power whose like she had never seen, and he needed no weapon.

He swept his hand in front of him, and an immense shockwave exploded outward, knocking over the soldiers who surrounded him as easily as if they had been nothing more than straw-filled training dummies. Those standing closest to him took the full brunt of the force of his magic, their limbs flying from their bodies in a hideous spray of blood. Zelda could hear the young knight standing at her side draw his sword, and then she was running, rushing to get away from the carnage as swiftly as she could. She had dashed to the library and grabbed the ocarina from the shelf where she'd left it before thrusting it to her mouth and playing the song that brought her to this era as if her life depended on it.

Now that the frantic beating of her heart was beginning to slow, Zelda felt that she could process what had happened to her. Had she experienced nothing more than a vision, or had she somehow managed to travel through time? Had her mind been sent into the body of her ancestor? She had felt no other presence guiding her actions, and she'd been sitting in the exact same position on the library floor when she returned to her own time. It seemed that she had somehow replaced the former queen in her own body, but there had been no exchange of their spirits.

Zelda's finger throbbed, and she stretched out her hands in front of her. A long splinter of wood was still lodged in her flesh. She braced herself and removed it with her nails, scanning the surface of the library table for any indication that she had touched it two hundred years ago. There were none, of course. How could there be?

May the Goddess grant me wisdom, Zelda prayed.

In any case, she would need to retrieve the ocarina from where she dropped it. Something so powerful should not be left lying around. In the legend about the fabled instrument, the hero used it to move bodily through time, sending his entire person into the past or future, whether it was a span of years or just a few days. Or was that really how it worked? Had the hero only been able to shift his consciousness from one point in time to another? Zelda cursed herself for not having questioned the details of the story more thoroughly. She knew that magic was real, as she had seen its effects with her own eyes and could even command a bit of it herself. If nothing else, her dreams and visions had always been clear and true. Regardless, magic was something she was happy to leave to Impa, who had been trained according to Sheikah traditions and had a small foundation of knowledge on the subject, which was more than Zelda could say of her own understanding.

Zelda picked up the ocarina from where she'd left it on the library floor and tucked it carefully into her satchel. She would have to talk with Impa, and soon. The angle of the light streaming through the library windows indicated that she was already late to her morning briefing, and her chief secretary had more than likely already sent a courier to fetch her. If she wanted to speak with Impa, she would have to cancel one of the afternoon's audiences, but surely this turn of events was important enough to warrant the rearrangement of her schedule. Even a year ago she would have felt anxiety about the inconvenience to her staff, but she was learning that this was only what was expected of her – to give orders, and to be obeyed. She must be flexible, but only she could control the direction of her will. If she did not exercise her right to dictate her own priorities, the strength of her commands would atrophy as those around her gradually lost their respect for her time and patience.

In the hallway outside the library, Zelda stood in front of the portrait of her ancestor. The former queen's face was wise, but strained and severe. Had Zelda witnessed the war she'd supposedly won? How could she have possibly triumphed over the man who looked like Ganondorf, who had destroyed rows of heavily armed soldiers with a mere sweep of his hand? He did not seem to want to be the queen's enemy. How had the war started, then? It now seemed strange to Zelda that she knew so little about this conflict. She could recite the queen’s lineage from memory, as well as the titles and stipulations of dozens of laws that had been enacted during her reign. Why did she not know more details concerning the war her ancestor had presided over when the woman was scarcely older than she was now?

Hyrule will burn. Ganondorf's words from the previous evening still lingered in her ears, and she could still feel the touch of his breath on her neck. Zelda caught herself pressing her fingers to the spot on her face where his skin had briefly brushed against hers, and she quickly lowered her hand. She didn't know whether Ganondorf was capable of starting a war, or even whether that was his intention, but she understood that she could never again stand on the castle ramparts and relive the horror she had just experienced. She may not have the spiritual strength of her ancestor, but she promised herself that she would find a better way.

▲     ▲     ▲

"The war two hundred years ago?" Impa asked, raising her eyebrows. "Out of the two of us, you're the historian. What could I possibly tell you that you don't already know?"

Zelda studied Impa's face, but it was as smooth as a mask and betrayed no emotion. Impa had taught her how to achieve this same neutrality of expression years ago. She knew Impa was hiding something, but she supposed this was only natural. If she wanted Impa's honesty, she would have to be honest herself.

And so she told Impa everything. She'd only managed to free an hour of her schedule, so she spoke as concisely and with as much precision as she could manage. Impa listened without interrupting, her face becoming progressively more serious. When Zelda reached the end of her story, Impa nodded.

"It's finally started, then," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Zelda was irritated. She had expected concern, or perhaps even gentle teasing, and Impa's attitude of knowing resignation came as an unpleasant surprise.

"What's finally started?" Zelda raised her voice. "If you know something, I want you to tell me."

Impa smirked, her face bitter. "There are legends about the Zeldas. Did you think you were exempt?"

Zelda bit her lip to silence a retort but then spoke her mind anyway. "Don't give me any of this 'mystical Sheikah wisdom' nonsense. I just came into possession of a legendary artifact of staggering potential and saw a vision of a war, and this is right after the leader of the Gerudo all but promised that something terrible is going to happen to my kingdom. If you were waiting until my coronation to induct me into some sort of esoteric mystery, I urge you to – "

Zelda suddenly became aware that she had begun to channel the speech and bearing of the former queen whose body she had so recently inhabited. She sighed and let her shoulders drop. "...I'd like you to please reconsider," she finished in a softer voice.

Impa seemed to have paid her outburst no mind, however. "I was warned this might happen," she said, tapping the fingers of her right hand against her arm, "but I didn't think it actually would."

She shook her head and met Zelda's eyes. "There's not much to tell, except that all of the legends about the princesses and their heroes are true. The specifics may have been changed over time, but the foundation remains solid. Every one of those princesses existed in this world, as did every demon they fought."

"But that makes no sense," Zelda objected. "There are far too many legends for them all to be true. And if they were, we would have historical records of at least some of them. I was taught that the last Queen Zelda oversaw a war surrounding a border conflict, not the invasion of a Gerudo warlord."

Impa shook her head. "Blessed Nayru, where do I even begin. I thought His Majesty would have told you something about this. I'm assuming he didn't?"

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about, Impa. If it's not a matter of historical record, then I haven't read it."

"You haven't... read it. Of course. This is why we Sheikah don't write things down. Books can be burned, and records can be altered or lost altogether."

"So you have an oral tradition, I understand that." Zelda made an impatient gesture. "But something this big, a man with enough power to destroy an entire army all on his own... Hyrule should have its own oral record of something like that. If such a person actually existed, don't you think people would tell stories about him? There's no way he wouldn't have become the subject of all manner of rumors. Especially since..."

Especially since he was so young and attractive, Zelda started to say, but she caught herself.

Impa frowned and looked away. "I'm going to say something that I probably shouldn't. The Sheikah are supposed to serve the royal family, not criticize it, but this has always bothered me..."

"Go on," Zelda prompted, intrigued.

"You're thinking about this like a princess, not a politician. Let me ask you, what purpose does it serve for the royal family to allow people to know that their monarchy was almost brought to its knees by the actions of one man? If the throne is so weak that it can be seized by an outsider, and a Gerudo outsider at that, then what's to stop anyone else from claiming it? If your family's control over this kingdom isn't absolute, then what's to stop any disgruntled farmhand with delusions of grandeur from becoming the seed that grows into the next uprising?"

Zelda immediately saw Impa's point. "And so an invasion becomes a 'border skirmish.'"

"And a man becomes a monster, a monster that was defeated because of the noble efforts of the princess and her hero. It's hitting two birds with one stone, really."

"Of course. The risk of political dissent is minimized, while patriotism and loyalty are encouraged."

Impa's face remained grim as she uncrossed her arms and cracked her knuckles, a gesture that Zelda knew indicated she was upset about something.

"You've always been a quick study when it comes to logic, but politics aren't the only forces at play here,” Impa said. “What you need to understand is that, while the demons of legend are ideological constructs, they are also literal monsters."

"Impa, that's..." Zelda searched for the right words to respond to Impa's unfortunate phrasing, which was uncharacteristic of her friend, who usually had no patience for unjustified prejudice. "...extremely unkind," she finally said. "The Darknuts used to be considered monsters, as did the Bokoblins, and you know that even now..."

"They are discriminated against, of course. That's not what I mean by 'monster.' What I mean is that there are forces in Hyrule that we don't fully understand, just as we don't fully understand the nature of the goddess that your line claims as its ancestor. But that doesn't mean that they don't exist. It’s just like how we accept the existence of magic, even if most of us don’t believe it has any bearing on our own lives. When it's wielded by the royal family in the service of the people of Hyrule, we consider magic to be good. But there is some magic that can twist people's hearts and minds, including those of the Darknuts and Bokoblins that attacked this kingdom during the reign of the last Zelda. This is how monsters are created. These monsters are not the demonization of a rebellion, but akin to natural disasters in the destruction they bring."

Zelda's mind raced as she struggled to process what Impa was telling her. "But the hero always wins," she pointed out. "So why haven't these monsters been defeated already?"

"As a member of the royal family, you've been trained to understand time as being teleological, progressing in a straight line from one point to another toward the greater glory of your kingdom. But we Sheikah..."

Impa held her hands in front of her chest, her palms facing each other. "We Sheikah see time as cyclical. History does not progress; it repeats itself." She flipped the position of her hands as if she were turning over an hourglass. "And the time has come around once again for the princess to face a great evil."

"And you think this princess is me? So tell me, what’s the great evil I'm supposed to face?"

"It's too soon to be certain, but the Gerudo emissary seems to be up to something."

"Be that as it may, I don't want to fight a war. I can't fight a war. Impa, you know that."

"And that's where we Sheikah come in," Impa said, her eyes cold. "You don't always need a hero to defeat a monster. Sometimes all you need is another monster."

You're not a monster, Zelda wanted to say, but the truth was that she knew better. Like all Sheikah warriors, Impa had been trained as an assassin. As Impa's apprentice, she was no stranger to this training herself. She would need time to consider the implications of what Impa had told her, but time was the one thing she didn't have. If nothing else, she had to resume her afternoon audiences. She could already hear the undersecretary sent to retrieve her outside the door of the small chamber adjoining the stateroom.

"Thank you for speaking freely to me. I apologize for springing this on you so suddenly. Let's discuss this later," she said, turning away from Impa. And we'll see if I become a monster myself, she wanted to add, but this time she held her tongue. Before she was a Sheikah apprentice, and before she was a politician, she was a princess, and a princess must be graceful and composed.

( Chapter Ten )

[dunkleduck-blog]

PROJECT: redacted.

LEGEND. Eyelids were opened slowly, sunlight registered through the slip. You groaned at it, slowly adjusting your sight with the brightness. The smell of buttercup was the first scent that came to your sense. Your eyes blinked. Where were you? The last memory you had had in your mind was a huge explosion and white light blinded you. You heard a scream, inhuman ones and the rest wasn't really registered through your mind. It was such a horrible scattered memory if you think of it. In which just lead you to get a minor headache as you tried a little harder to remember. You jolted yourself up, as found out that you were being cushioned by a patch of golden buttercup underneath you. You blinked again. Odd. You didn't remember of ever laying down or laze around, over somewhere so serene and quiet. You wish to but you were sure you ain't the lazybone-type. You think so to yourself. Just beside the spot where you had laid upon, there was a clipboard with several paper clipped on it. Without a second thought, you picked it up. Thanks to the sunlight in which shone brightly from the crack above you, you managed to read it. Or so you think. Chicken scribbles, somehow looks like a journal of someone... No page was empty, all of them being showered with lots of words and words. You could make out some of them. * ALTERNATE UNIVERSE, written by FRISK. Supervised by-- You were unable to make out the name since it had been smudged over with a black charcoal-like ink. It was either someone doesn't wanted to be recognized or it was being smudged by accident. You can't tell. You flipped through the pages and caught some of the words that was visible. * xNxxxFxLL... * xxxxxxWAP... * xxxxxxxxx * xCExxTxxx * xxxxxWOxLD... And a couple more that you unable to make out the words. It was like a list of a world or some place... Ah- Universes. Just like the title had mentioned. But thing is... Why would you hold onto this kind of information? Must be important, you thought. So, you were entitled to hold on this, really. You took a quick glance on the last page, exasperatedly. There was a chicken scratch beneath, similar with the rest of the scribbles. "DON'T FORGET." All in CAPS, as if a reminder for the owner of this clipboard or whoever written this. You gulped, blinking a few again. "Well, I need to find a way out." You spoke to yourself, glancing around. You noticed that this cavern wasn't really unusual. Just like your typical hideout or a bear cave? Maybe. Nothing special on it like inhuman scratches or ancient doodle. Hah, you wished. On your back is a dead end, while up head... You can't see whatever beyond unless you make your way through. Usually, that would be the last option you would do, as you waited for any help. But this time, that, would be the first thing you would do. Sometimes you just have to break the rules, right? Chest rose and fell, you sighed heavily as you clutched the clipboard against your chest. You started to walk forward - But to no avail, ten-eleven-twelve steps ahead and you fell into the dark. Dark, darker, yet darker. You were screaming on top of your lungs but were cut off by the rush of wind went through your ears. It was as if you were screaming out air and no voice. As deep as you fell, you could feel a warmth tingled your cheeks despite the cold air sliced through. The blindness of dark now shone brightly, almost burning your sight. Again, you were blinded by this familiar light again. * * * * * You can feel the breeze blew against your cheeks, gently. Soft grass swayed back and forth, tickled your nose. Oh, joy. The earthly ground smells. It reminded you of... your home. A place where you belongs. You felt real heavy to stand up despite your heart, your mind told you so. This body betrayed you, enjoyed this minor scenic. You just wanted to rest. The journey was nothing but hell, being pushed back and forth while you have no slightest idea of where were you now. You sighed. And that's when your ears started to pick up a conversation. An unfamiliar voice. It was soft, as if they were talking to someone. Oh, so there were TWO people talking, huh? Hmm, you wondered what they were talking about but only fell to deaf ears. You could feel yourself started to fade out, draining back to unconsciousness until a loud thud pang within the radius of your hear sense. You jolted up almost immediately, heart racing as if they were going to jump out. Like a shockwave electrocuted thorough your entire body. "quite shocking, huh? how long are you gonna pretend to sleep there, kid?" Your eyes were blinking in surprise. The voice knew you were already up but apart from that, you knew darn well of whose voice belongs to. Your heart skipped a beat. Are you... no. Of course not. Slowly get up, you held onto your head, trying to gain any balance of yourself. While the other hand still clenched onto the same clipboard over your chest. You need to stay on your ground again but as soon as your gaze laid on whoever had woke you up, you froze. You can see a huge black-scaled dragon with vicious yellow slitted eyes dagger-glare at you. Infront of it was a pair of... pegasus? A winged horse? Well, you must be dreaming because you were sure that kind of fairy tale animals don't exist. Your mind refused to believe. But then your eyes glued on something or rather someone, far more interesting. It was a pair of tall skeletons. How tall are they? 6 feet? 7? Uh, you were sure it must be 8 feet tall. They are sure tall and pretty much like a mirror. Opposite to each other. A bright-innocent-looking skeleton and well... another skeleton. Doppelganger? Clone? - You can't tell. But his scowled face was terrifying and judging by that, he wasn't satisfied with your presence. Disgusted, even. And you were right about it. "CLEARLY, THE STONE OF DERCAS IS BLOODY USELESS. BIG FAT LIAR, NOT EVEN TRUE BUT A BORING WORTHLESS WASTING MY TIME. CEASE THIS. CEASW THIS DIRTY ROCK. CEASE THIS PEASANT FROM MY SIGHT." He stomped the ground again, pretty much pissed off. The metal boots crushed deeply into the earth, leaving a foot mark on. You looked up at him. His appearance was all black. From his shiny metal armour down to his metal boots. You rubbed your temple, head a little spinning after listening to his tantrum. Seeing your vulnerability, the other skeleton came to approach you. Bright scarlet gloves grabbed onto both of your shoulders, squeezing a little. A hint of reassurance. But for what exactly? The scarlet cape behind him blew by the wind. He looked like some kind of heroic figure in which you end up snorted. "HUH? WHAT IS IT, HUMAN? IS ANYTHING WRONG? WELL, IF ANYTHING WRONG, THAT WOULD BE BLACK. AS HE SHOUTED NONSENSICAL AT YOU. DEEPLY APOLOGIES FOR HIS BEHAVIOUR, HUMAN." He beamed with a smile. His words, his apology, everything sounds so genuine you just can't say no. "It's fine. Really. Don't worry about me." And this other skeleton now... He was donned in gold and red. A resemblance of royalty. Well, if this is some kind of color theme or pattern, you can see it clearly. You made a mental note to yourself. "V-VERY WELL THEN. OH! WHERE'S MY MANNER. I DIDN'T EVEN INTRODUCE MYSELF. I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SECOND COMMANDER OF THE SKELEGUILD. AND THIS IS - " "THE GRAND MASTER BLACK, THE TERRIFYING. BUT IT WOULD BE SUCH A HASTE AND WASTING MY TIME TO - OUCH! GRR, YOU DON'T HAVE TO HIT ME LIKE THAT, YOU - UGH. FINE. THIRD COMMANDER OF THE SKELEGUILD. NOW, WHERE IS THAT LAZYBONES THE BROTHER OF YOURS?" "just right here." And that caused the tall skeleton to jump on his own boots, bones rattled. He was about to curse but the shorter skeleton shot him a sharp glare. As he turned back to you, he looked rather casual and... curious. "sans, sans the skeleton. just some mercenary passed by." He held out his hand to shake, in which you were hesitant to. There was a small spark within you, as if you had known this skeleton over thousand years but you still can't quite figured it out. A sense of familiarity. You stared down at his gloved hand and shook it. "so, what's your name, kid?" "Uh... My name is ___" Nice one. You just made up whatever name crossed in your mind. Well, you knew you are not Frisk, the name on the clipboard and that name alone sounds pretty weird for you. Apart from these two skeletons whose named after a certain fonts, you don't wanna look funny on first introduction. "So, where am I?" The three of them shared glances at each other before nodding. "well, papyrus and black will take you back to the guild. i will tag along from the back. just got stuffs to do." "I WILL EXPLAIN TO YOU BRIEFLY WHILE ON OUR WAY TO THE SAFEST SAFE HOUSEHOLD!" "UGH, WHY DON'T WE JUST TELL THEM RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW. STARS, YOU BOTH ARE SO INFURIATING." "BECAUSE THAT WOULD RUIN THE SUPRISE!" "TCH WHATEVER." -wip-