#we wanted to listen to it on call but the bot was busted so we streamed the music video and some1 said it looks like a hxh fight scene

[onomatopagu-et-cie]

HAPPY 19TH DGM ANNIVERSARY & some other notes on DGM!

I'm a little late but HAPPY 19TH DGM ANNIVERSARY!!!! Time flies fast and this series accompanied my thoughts and heart for almost two decades now!

This first preface will stay a long time in my thoughts. Thank you for letting us join in on your wonderful journey, Hoshino ⋆｡°✩

I recently listened again to Blue Moon sung by Ella Fitzgerald and ... it's giving me Mana, Allen and Neah (or the whole cast haha) feelings ;;

I had some other notes I wanted to share since the previous post, so here it goes!

(SPOILERS UP TO CH247!!!!)

▶ Innocence & Akuma and Timcampy Innocence is attracted by Akuma, as though they once formed a whole together:

(the imagery here haunts me, especially with a heart in the background and the cross in the middle!!)

-> the story insists on informing us Innocence and Akuma balance each other and hold equal power over each other -> at the Asian branch, Allen’s Innocence reactivates only once he saw an Akuma ; the 3rd generations arm and Allen’s Innocence activated on their own when they were close -> the Innocence takes the shape of a bust deprived of head, arms and legs, but it has wings (and the recent chapters mainly represent Innocence with wings eg. Mugen, Apocryphos and Allen) ; the Akuma egg is a head in itself -> the Innocence’s mark on the exorcists looks like a cross but also the stigma on the Noah’s forehead -> both evolve in the same fashion. However, Akuma seem to me visually more ‘complete’ than the Innocence (eg. in Phantom G ark, even the children, the Prioress and Emilia thought a Level 4 was an angel): some are seen with more defined human features, wings, halo, tail, horns altogether. It’s curious how Level 4 Akuma (and Alma also) are designed with a halo, which is generally a symbol of holiness in art.

-> Skull use what looks like ladybug to create their barriers (which can prevent anyone except Akuma from entering, nullify Allen’s left eye power and his ability to summon the Ark).

In some cultures and languages, ladybugs are often seen as a good-luck charm and are linked to heaven and God. For example, in french, we call them ‘bêtes à bon Dieu’ (something like God’s creature) since the Middle Age. Its name can even be associated with the Virgin Mary (ladybug/bird or in german, Marienkäfer means Mary’s beetle). In japanese, the word for ladybug is 天道虫, ‘tentou-mushi’ which literally means 'Heaven Path bug'. It can also be written with the kanji for 'red' and 'girl' respectively, 紅娘.

Now, this is a wild reach which might lead nowhere (surely like the others 8D), but the Crows are the only ones described by their red silhouettes (you would expect their costumes to be jet black, by their title) and the two red dots on their forehead. There are also many black ladybug species with two red spots on their wings eg. the twice-stabbed lady beetle.

-> Just another wild speculation but if the song heard when the Dark Boots crystallized itself around Lenalee was the lullaby (the only song mentioned in the story along with Lala’s and Maria’s), what to make of it?

While the Innocence only affected non-exorcists (supposedly because its will is overwhelming to them, according to Bookman), Level 4 Akuma seem to have the same head-crushing cry and it incapacitates exorcists, to the point that they struggle to synchronize.

Only the dead like Maria seems to remain unaffected. However, in ch147, Link was still able to move to save Allen from the collapse.

-> The only instances Akuma and Innocence use each other’s attributes are Akuma 4 (wings) and Fallen Ones’ (halo) designs.

-> The Earl is determined to keep the Akuma’s true nature hidden from the Heart, because there’s something in there it could use as an advantage. It suggests something could directly be done by the Heart if it knew that piece of information eg. control both Innocence and Akuma or turn Akuma into Innocence or vice versa? Idek anymore haha

-> Timcampy is the only character to have both the Innocence and the Akuma/Earl attributes, wings and horns. And we also had THIS cover (the second picture, I never saw it colored before I re-read DGM and idk if this was established it was Timcampy):

Not to mention Timcampy’s weird deus ex machina entrance to motivate Allen again in ch53 (when he was giving up on saving Suman)?

▶ The Chang, Akuma, Skulls and Link A detail I forgot to mention in the first post was that Link’s tattoo, as expected, share the same motif with the ones inked on the Chang to link them to Fō as it’s shown in volume 21. Similar tattoos were on Alma’s arms and belly since that magic was also used on him.

Level 4 Akuma and Skulls also share the same marks?????

Fô’s head ‘accessory’ looks like the Akuma egg’s design:

Skulls (the katakana highlighted in green on the screenshots), like the Chang family, are also sorcerers. The manga introduces them in japanese with the title 守化縷 (the kanji highlighted in yellow on the screenshots), which literally can be translated as ‘guard(ian) of the thread’.

Now what's a synonym of thread?

… It’s Link!!!! The coincidence goes even further with Link’s last name, Howard. According to wikipedia’s entry:

????????? I don’t know what to make of this, but this sure isn’t pure coincidence. This and the way Apocryphos and Lavi called Link ‘watchdog’ as well as Kanda ‘Luberrier’s dog’ insists on his role as a guard. But whose? Allen’s? Luberrier’s? Somebody/thing else?

-> According to his profile in volume 20, Edgar Chang Martin, part of a secondary Chang branch, was related to a great sorcerer involved with the Order. The sorcerer was german. Link is also german (like Kiredori, Tewaku, Goushi, Madarao and Tokusa), I don’t believe we have other german profiles in the story nor blondes like him, Bak’s father and Bak himself (oh, and I forgot ofc our girl Miranda!!). Link could be related to that great german sorcerer and thus be an heir of Atuuda, unbeknownst to Zuu (but I wonder how that would be groundbreaking for the story?)

-> the spells the Chang use could be related to/even originate from the Skull’s (given how the manga hints at how ancient Skull’s sorcery is). The operation to bestow the power to cast magic to the Crows could be similar to how the Skull tinkered with the scientists’ head in volume 15.

-> heck, dude could even be linked to Timcampy, they’re both gold (I’m half-joking at this point idek anymore 8D) and Timcampy uses the same sanskrit-inspired magic as the Skulls (eg. when Tim destroys the barrier to save Allen during his battle against Alma and Kanda). Hoshino also emphasizes the importance of the gold color in the manga (the Noah’s eyes, Timcampy, Allen getting hungry over this color, the Campbell mansion’s landscape, …) just as the silver/gray color, so there might be something? Also, Cornelia’s wood can destroy Timcampy. Cornelia derivates from the latin cornix, which means crow…………… Please e x p l a i n

Also, what is this ‘thread’ the Skulls have the duty to protect? Their main duty is to protect the Akuma egg?

Now three things will keep bothering me until we get answers in the manga:

1)

2) These pages following each other (and the last two are literally back to back, it’s more visible when you read the physical copy + it’s Link’s right hand and Allen’s left):

(Of course I know Atuuda acted up once Link subconsciously shook when he thought of Apocryphos and this is a smooth way to have a transition to Neah’s pov, but the panelling is still interesting here)

3) What Zuu really meant to say to Link before he was interrupted by Luberrier (and I don’t think it was the whole ’becoming the 14th’s ally’ because Luberrier was clear on that in front of Link only some pages later)?????

▶ Cross and his mask Hoshino hinted that both Lavi’s eyepatch and Cross’s mask are mysteries to be unveiled. The mark on his mask looks like the Innocence and the Noah’s stigma. It also looks like Mana’s Pierrot makeup, or even the Pillar mentioned in volume 27:

The shape of his mask looks like a coffin? (It could also be a visual recall of Grave of Maria, but who knows!)

It reminds me of the "La" + "Vi" cover and the 'box' protecting the egg also looks like a coffin:

▶ Road We now know Road was even able to manipulate Allen/Neah’s dreams without even interacting with them (unlike with Lavi). She even invited Cross’ dreamy-whatever-consciousness in it (because I’m sure Cross himself was conscious of it to some extent and was able to give some hints to Allen even though he was used by Road), which persuaded Allen to go to the Campbell mansion. Could it be that she also tampered with Lenalee and Allen’s nightmares after she met them (or at the very least Allen, since the manga shows how the dream strongly motivated him to reactivate his Innocence)?

I find it even more curious she’s named like that when one of Allen’s elements of crisis over his identity is following a road already traced by somebody else.

Road might have something to do with the Heart (that and also the fact her iconic door is heart-shaped, with a checked pattern and a crown on top?)?

▶ Apocryphos Ch247 finally established the link between the Cube’s prophecies and Apocryphos: the Cube is regarded by the Order as the official « text » on the Innocence and the three days of doom, the Heart is mentioned but there is no trace of Apocryphos in there. Just as the truth on the 3 days of doom the Noah claim to exist. Also just as the Heart is capable to create dupes to escape the Earl. Apocryphos is a literal reference to the apocrypha, texts deemed unauthentic by religious authorities. According to the Cambridge dictionary, « an apocryphal story is probably not true although it is often told and believed by some people to have happened. » The one the most tricked so far in the story seems to be the Order.

▶ Cross in volume 17

In volume 17, Cross asks Allen « What if I told you that when you become the 14th you will have to kill the people (or someone) you care about? ». To which Allen answers: « What do you mean I have to kill the people (or someone) I care about?! »

In the original version, Cross uses « daijina ningen (人間) » for ‘the people (or someone) you care about’ ; Allen uses « daijina hito (人) ».

Which is curious for Cross because hito (人) would generally be used here: both mean human, but while 人 refers to ‘human’ as a person, 人間 refers to ‘human’ as the species in a taxonomic classification. Is it to highlight the true nature of Neah as a Noah apart from the humans Allen came to care about along his way? Does Cross also set himself apart from the humanity as a 3rd party?

▶ Funny how Link and Mana can be associated in the manga: -> ch137, « Orphan and Clown », introduces Link to Allen when he’s still trying to figure out why the Ark’s partition uses the signs Mana taught him and is questioned by Link about it. It is later revealed in the manga Link was an orphan before joining the Crow. -> in ch183, Allen inadvertently voices his memories of Mana to Link -> in ch212, « Searching for A.W.: Calling You », as Allen loses consciousness, fighting Neah’s awakening, he calls out to Link but instead is greeted by a vision of a young Mana, calling out to Neah. This chapter also introduces the importance of Allen’s name to save him from Neah’s dreams. The original version for ‘Calling You’ is ‘’君を呼ぶ ‘ (kimi wo yobu). ‘Kimi’ is the pronoun both Mana and Link use in the manga ; past!Allen also seemed to use it with Neah. Johnny and Kanda both use omae for Allen.

EDIT: Allen also uses 'kimi' so the chapter's title works both ways (in French, the title was translated as "Écoute ma voix" which is "Listen to my voice", I like the way the calling works interchangeably!)!

-> in ch213, Link faces a mirror shirtless like Mana does later in volume 25:

-> in ch220, « Searching for A.W.: He Closes His Eyes Tighter in a Vortex », Neah recalls the Earl he’s Mana but remains in denial and Link admits being conflicted over Allen and Neah

Link, Neah and Cross share similar positions and the panelling adds to this parallel:

-> Link was given the order to aid Neah but hopes that Allen overcomes his fate as his host.

-> Neah awakens years later and faces the Earl, struggling with Mana’s memory ; he’s determined to destroy him even if he holds him dear.

-> Cross had to witness Mana's struggle against the Earl. Yet he still had to carry on his mission even when the Earl possessed Mana. Then he had to watch Allen being slowly taken over by Neah. Cross's message in ch173 hits even harder given his link with Mana and Neah: "You may not want to listen to someone like me who carries the will of the Fourteenth… But if you think either of us is forcing you to walk a certain path… I want you to know that’s not true. A path forms behind you as you walk. The earth you step on is compressed, leaving a print. You’re the only one who can make your path. So stop wearing Mana’s mask. Walk in your own if you haven’t given up." Perhaps he even said similar words to an anguished Mana (or he wished to have said them). He had to watch them go, one after the other, helplessly.

▶ The moon, D. and C.

Are the D and the C just stylized in Mana and Luberrier’s names? At least for Mana’s and Neah’s, the D. could hold some meaning since it even was ch218’s title. Hoshino dreamed to become an astronaut, loves the moon and the stars (they’re even part of her name and her own mascot) and used it a lot in her previous works.

In DGM, the moon is seen in its different phases at important moments. It mainly signals the passing of time (eg. how long has Allen been on the run) or gives atmospheric context to the scenes, but sometimes it holds a symbolic meaning:

-> The first Noah reunion shows the moon phases on each chair

-> It is part of the Musician's Score's lyrics (from the french official translation): « Tu étincelles, toi, l’enfant né sous une tremblante lune d’argent. » which could be « You shine, the child born underneath a trembling silver moon ».

-> It frames a romantic scene between Crowley and Eliade:

-> The moon and the stars are used in chapter titles eg. ch129, « Black and white, 0° » (a reference to the new moon) and ch144 « Black star, red star »

-> It’s foreboding in Lenalee & Allen’s nightmares and Allen’s prophecy as the Destroyer of time:

-> The full moon appears when two characters reunite: in astronomy, a syzygy is a « situation that occurs when the sun, the moon (or a planet), and the earth are in a straight line. This occurs when the moon (or planet) is at conjunction (new moon) or opposition (full moon) ». Syzygy comes from the ancient greek συζυγία which means junction, reunion.

Mana and Red’s first meeting, as Mana sings the lullaby:

Allen and the Earl’s ‘first’ meeting:

Allen and Link reunite:

As for the D and the C, when the moon waxes it is shaped like a D, and when wanes it appears as a C. Could this be a coincidence? The C in Luberrier could also be Campbell, but for now the mystery surrounding his family is far from being revealed.

▶ Timothy and Allen In ch183, « Wash your face and you’ll be alright », Timothy and the Prioress face the sunset the same way Mana and Red did as later revealed in ch238:

Have a nice week!

[my-writings-and-musings]

Could you do TFP bots (or just a few of them if you have charcater limit or just don't feel like doing them all, as long as Wheeljack is ingluded I'm good) with a human they just recued and they're like "I'm gonna call my dad hold on" and if they protest they're like "nah you'll like him I promise, just give him a minute" and her dads their old bot friend who went MIA (you can decide who the dad is, or go with Ironhide if you're as indeciceve as me lol)

I miiiiight just have to do this as a short story I hope that's okay! Got my Wrecker boys Wheeljack, Bulkhead, Smokescreen and Ultra Magnus.

Dust was still settling as you realized the threat was over, the collection of vehicons having scattered long before the cave had finished it's partial collapse and leaving you under the gathered team of bots who'd come together to shield you from falling debris. Rubbing off the powdered rocks covering your face, as well as coughing up the taste of dirt, you took a moment to gather yourself as your new giant allies did the same. It wasn't worth thinking about what would have happened if they hadn't come along when they had... In your defense, that ambush had come out of nowhere.

"You okay there?" A deep voice above you rumbled with concern, encouraging you to tilt your head upwards at the big green bot looking down at you. His optics were friendly, and despite his absolutely massive size and hands that transformed into wrecking balls, you immediately trusted him.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks to you guys." You said gratefully, looking to each of the gathered team as they brushed the dust off themselves.

"Protecting organic life is the primary responsibility of Autobots, think nothing of it." The largest of them said, somewhat gruff as he meticulously picked off the worst of the rubble that had showered down upon them. Immediately, you knew he was the one in charge. Towering above the others and with shoulder pauldrons thicker than two of you, he gave off the energy of someone who took no nonsense and had the firepower to back up his authority, yet his gaze was mostly just annoyed as he looked down to you again. "Our second responsibility, however, is remaining hidden from the denizens of this planet. Saving you required us to break cover."

"Give the kid a break, sir. They managed to escape a whole squadron by themselves before running into us. I think we can cut them some slack." A far gruffer voice said, cutting in as the battle scarred mech in question took a protective step your way. Quite immediately the colors on his unique build were familiar to you, but you decided to stay quiet on that fact, reaching for the cellphone thankfully still secure in your pocket. While you hadn't found what you'd been looking for in this mine, at least you had something far more interesting to report.

The big blue bot looked to the other with an impressive frown, unintentionally cementing your thesis as to the scarred mech's identity. The back and forth continued more or less without an acknowledgement of your presence. "They've been seen in our company, Wheeljack. By the procedure Optimus established, we must now secure their wellbeing, and that will be quite the undertaking."

The only one who had not yet spoken, a smaller but solidly built blue bot who seemed the youngest of the group, chose that moment to jump in with a quip. "Doubt docbot will be too happy about another human in the bunker."

"He's all talk. Ratchet wants these little guys as safe as the big guy does, he won't put up a fight." The gruff one, who you were starting to like more by the moment, said with an amused but reassuring smile in your direction. Unable to help smiling back, you suddenly felt that this turn of events might have been more than you could have ever hoped for. If only you could get a word in edgewise...

"You're purposefully missing the point, soldier. We-"

"If it's gonna be such a hassle for you, I'll take 'em myself."

"Jackie..." Once more, the gentle green giant spoke up, looking quite concerned at his friend's purposeful egging on of the bot in charge. You got the sense that this kind of thing happened often by his tone, but personally, you were getting a little tired of being ignored. None of what they were discussing was necessary, and if anyone would have bothered to ask you they'd know that? Finally fed up, you took a breath and raised your arms to draw attention to your tiny self.

"Um, hello? Excuse me!" You shouted, mercifully ending the bickering and securing four pairs of optics on yourself. Relieved for the silence, you pulled out your phone and held it up, projecting your voice to ensure you were heard. The shocked expressions didn't cease when you started to explain, but you didn't let that stop you. Sorting this out would make everything easier for everyone. "I think there's a bit more going on than any of you know. Let me call my dad really quick, he'll set this straight."

The first to reply was the one you knew had to be the rookie of the group, who awkwardly cleared his vents and broke the silence only hesitantly. "Uh, bringing more humans into this really isn't our goal-"

"Who said anything about him being human?" You cut in, grinning from ear to ear at the looks they all gave you. Now that you had their unbroken attention, it was only a matter of summoning your dad and waiting for him to arrive. Dialing his frequency into your phone, you prepared to share just as much information as it took to get him here fastest, wanting to see the look on his face when he arrived and saw who you'd found. This was going to be fun...

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

The roar of a familiar engine had thankfully silenced the second round of bickering to break out amongst the two argumentative bots, who had gone back and forth between listening to you and calling for their superior. It had been entertaining at first, but by the time that roar had echoed down the tunnel you'd been relieved to hear it, and had hopped to your feet from your seat on a convenient rock. The bots had reflexively drawn their weapons, but there hadn't even been any need for you to stop them. A worn red paint job skidding around the corner had made them all hold fire.

In a rush, you'd run out to greet the massive off road vehicle just as it began to transform, and in moments had been embracing the offered hand of a hulking bot who kneeled before you with an expression of happy relief.

"Ironhide!"

"Wheeljack!" Your adopted dad cried out in absolute joy, letting you move safely to the side before approaching the bot who's identity you'd properly guessed. Ironhide had told you so many stories about the Wrecker, it made sense that you'd been able to tell who he was by appearance and mannerisms despite having never met. The two bots greeted one another with an earth trembling chest bump, after which your beaming father turned to the green bot with just as much enthusiasm, shaking hands and crashing their fists together with overwhelming power. "Bulkhead too? Where have you guys been?"

"We might ask you the same thing, soldier." The big blue bot said, cutting in with the same serious look that appeared to be his only expression. On a closer inspection, however, you could see a certain light in his optics. He wasn't altogether displeased to see a new arrival. Standing somewhat awkwardly to the side, the young blue bot appeared delighted if not quite confused.

"Uh, long story, Ultra Magnus sir. I've been on this planet for some time. Found this little troublemaker when they were half their current size, and I've been raising 'em to help with our cause." Ironhide said affectionately, stepping back and dropping to one knee to be more on your level. Before you could puff up proudly at the praise, a single digit tussled your hair as he often did to tease, and you sputtered before playfully pushing him away and undoing the damage. Chuckling, he turned back to his comrades. "Never figured I'd bump into you all here! Jackie, Bulk, and uh..."

The attention turned to the young bot, who only smiled with a wave and a not offended clarification on his name.

"Smokescreen."

Wheeljack gave your dad a playful punch, still buzzing at seeing his old friend alive. The friendship you'd so frequently heard about was clear as day before you. "Glad to see you in one piece, old Rusthide."

"We've been here for years, Ironhide. How come we didn't detect you?" Bulkhead said, looking just as happy but burdened by the question at hand. Ironhide tapped his audial with a somewhat glum smile.

"Communicator's been busted for ages, all I've got is an earth link for cellphones." He said, recalling an injury he'd endured long before meeting you. The line he'd built relied on earth technology, and you still remembered how many tries it had taken to get it right. It was impossible to imagine a whole other team of beings like himself had been out there the whole time... Yet he didn't look at all regretful as he glanced down at you. "If I'd known I wasn't alone, I would have introduced myself and the kid ages ago. Looks like we've got my little one to thank for bringing us together."

You pouted and crossed your arms at the comment. "I'm not little anymore, dad."

"They did alright in a scrap, but how about we get you two back to base? I'm sure the other's will want to hear the story." Wheeljack said, easing your damaged pride with the compliment. You had indeed evaded those Vehicons for a good long while before being rescued... speaking of which, you could use a bit of rest somewhere secure.

Once more, Ultra Magnus stepped in to halt the festivities. "First; I shall communicate with Optimus and let him know what has transpired. He will likely want to meet you in person before we make any rash decisions."

"Seriously? Come on, Mags! Let's get this bot in an actual base!" Wheeljack replied in a huff, bringing back the arguing from before as if it had never stopped. Looking quite amused, Ironhide merely chuckled and offered you his hand, allowing you to get a lift onto his shoulders as was your custom. Clearly not phased by what he was seeing, the only parent you'd ever known let you get comfortable before following the group out of the partially collapsed cave. Who could have thought your simple little scouting mission would end like this?

"Come on kiddo." He said softly, watching the bickering with an expression of nostalgia. "I have a feeling things are about to get pretty interesting."

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

"YOU SEND THAT AS A REQUEST RIGHT FUCKING NOW YOU WHORE. YOU ARE UNDER LEGAL OBLIGATION TO MAKE ME WRITE THIS." Request a story about it or request NSFW headcanons about it? Either way, do it. Do it now. -💝 Anon

In case you guys are confused, anon is referring to two other asks that essentially means, you guys are about to read Combiner wars Overlord fuck little Percy. Now, let’s fucking GO.

“Would you take a gander at you.”

By some stroke of luck, Overlord managed to catch one of Megatron’s little friends. He only had one, but one was enough to beat the shit out of, get information, then kill. Easy peasy, you’d think. But there was one complication. Overlord REALLY liked this one. A cute little nerd who struggled against his restraints. He had his hands cuffed to the ceiling of the small, dark room they were in, leaving him helpless. He was thinking about doing the same with the legs, but he appreciated the small, scared steps he took to try to get away from him. How cute. Overload’s hands roamed across that frame, much to the unease of the little scientist.

“Cute little face, but a nice, smooth body. You got curves in all the right kinda places. I dig it.”

It was almost evil, the way he was put together. A face that said cute and innocent, with a body that begged to just get fucked raw. Overlord chuckled as he pushed his body towards him with one hand, and held his face in the other.

“Sorry, I think I’m forgettin’ my manners. What did you say your name was?”

“P-perceptor. And you’re Overlord.”

“Ah, good, don’t gotta introduce myself then. Well then, Perceptor- actually. Let me call you Percy, you mind?”

The little mech found himself clam up as Overload’s hands now gripped at his chest. A nice, big rack for him to play with too. Overload gave a light shake of his helm.

“I’ll take that as no, you don’t. Listen here, Percy, I’m diggin how you’re put together. And seein’ as you ain’t doing anything else, imma have a little fun with this body of yours.”

He tried to shove his hand between his legs, only for Percy to jump. It was a decent reflex, enough for him to need his restraints to keep him upright.

“N-no! No thank you! Very kind offer, and I’m honestly flattered, but I’m not interested in ANYTHING like this. At all.”

Now Overlord was a scum bag. A total piece of garbage. But he wasn’t about to take this little cutie if he REALLY didn’t want it. He liked it when they screamed, but the thrashing about honestly was such a pain. But Overlord, being the kinda mech he was, knew how to get bots to see things his way. He grabbed at his bust again, pulling him right back into his front.

“You’re shy. If you really wanted me off of you, you’d be putin’ up much more of a fight. What is it…”

He thought for a moment, before piecing it together. The averted gaze. The only slight hesitation to his touches. Overlord suddenly barked in laughter, patting his little cheek.

“Wait a minute now! I know what’s your deal. Ain’t nobody ever touched you before, huh?”

Percy averted his gaze. So he was right. Not only was this little nerd a snack, he was a snack that no one had taken a bite out of yet. This was too good to be true. He grabbed a hold of that little chin, slowly running his glossa across those little lips. He didn’t turn away, didn’t act grossed out. He was a slut dressed in a nerd packaging. How precious.

“Hey, don’t worry, Percy. I know I’m a big, mean mech, but I’ll go easy on you. I’ll make you like it so bad, you ain’t ever wanna leave this place.”

Overlord pressed his lips against his, and in that moment of surprise, he dipped his servo between his legs, and opened his spike panel. Percy gasped, and tried to move, only to stop. Overlord’s hands were responsible for who knows how many deaths. But right here and now, it felt so good, letting him stroke his spike. It was slow, totally firm against him. Enough to make Percy’s helm fall back, right onto Overlord’s chest.

“Look at ya, liking it already. You like it when a big, mean mech touches you here, don’t you? What about here?”

He reached for the valve panel, only for Percy to jolt away from him. So skittish. Their optics met, and Percy’s was full of embarrassment.

“I...well. I’ve never opened it, apart from medical examinations. You’ll forgive me if I don’t exactly trust you anywhere near it.”

Overlord should've been pissed. But honestly? He was just incredibly amused. He let go of him, only to slowly walk in front of him.

“Percy Percy Percy….come on. I ain’t treating you nothin’ but fair. I know you think I’m mean, but I can be SO nice to you.”

“W-what are you doing?”

“Imma do the best I can~”

Overlord shot him a wink as he got to his knees, and enveloped that spike between his lips. Percy would have fallen to the floor, had it not been for the restraints. Percy was liking it so much, he was absolutely trembling, watching in lustfull adoration as Overlord slowly pushed him back and forth into his mouth. No one even BLEW this helpless thing. Overlord slowly pulled him out of his mouth, watching as Percy tried to excuse his erect, throbbing gerth.

“I-i don’t- I’m not sure If I-”

“Percy, baby, lemme tell you somethin’”

He started, taking moments in between to lick and kiss along that gerth. Each time was met with a fierce, hard throb, Overlord kept thinking the little guy was gonna bust at any moment.

“You’d think amongst this fightin’ combiners, religious mumbo jumbo, even stuff like the titans, I’d be more focused on it. But no. Amongst the lineup of things I wanted to get my hands on, REALLY fuck over, I chose you. I wouldn’t take that lightly. And I’m kinda thinkin’ this is going right out your little audials, ain't it science boy?”

He looked up at the panting, steaming little Percy above him. Overlord WAS going to kill everything in sight, and that little valve was his next target. Overlord got up, and walked back behind him. This time, Percy was far more welcoming to his touches, pushing against him eagerly, and even groaning as he played with that nice, cute bust of his. Overlord popped his spike panel open, and pressed it right up against his lower back. Percy gasped (flattering really), and stiffened in his hands.

“Is. Is t-that-”

“My spike? Mhmm. And it’s gonna fuck that pretty little valve of yours till your bathing in me.”

“W-wait I don’t think it’d f-fit-”

Percy was silenced as Overlord held his hips, and slowly started to run it past his thighs. Dripping in fluids, it fucked his thighs slowly, but nonetheless made him whimper and mewl. He was terrified, but he so wanted it. It was a wonderful smell that made Overlord damn hungry.

“That’s it baby. Loosen up for me. Overlord gonna fuck you nice and good.”

“G-good is the one thing I’m sure this isn’t-”

He was cut off as his valve panel suddenly opened. Now Overlord’s huge, hot spike was gliding against his sensitive, virgin valve. Every time it brushed up against him, he let out a shuddering moan, clearly tempted to bust already. Overlord clicked his glossa, making sure his head brushed up against that cherry red node from time to time.

“You autobots and your ‘good and bad’. My motto is, if it feels good, do it. And you feel REALLY good, Percy. You got a little body just right for a big guy like me.”

That was when he got a firm hold of those hips, and pushed himself in. He could've been more graceful about it, but that valve was practically screaming to have him inside. Percy let out a scream as he overloaded, getting nice and tight around his spike. As if he didn’t feel good enough already. Percy whimpered, maybe in some ploy of mercy, before Overlord caught himself almost snickering. Still keeping a hold of his thighs, he started to move, making Percy give out little cries each and every time.

“There we go. Don’t I feel good, Percy?”

When there was no response, Overlord grabbed his neck, TIGHTLY, and nearly growled in his audial.

“I said, don’t I feel good, boy?”

“Y-you feel very good!”

The line itself was cute, as well as how he said it, but the way he looked. Percy’s mouth was wet in drool, and his body kept itself warm, tight, eager for more. Overlord gripped tighter, liking Percy’s cute little choking sounds.

“You like it when I choke you, don’t you? I wouldn’t be lookin’ all ashamed. A little experimenting never hurt nobody.”

He chuckled. Percy didn’t seem to find it too funny, given the fact that he was too busy taking a spike as big as his forearm. He was handling it so well, Overlord figured he’d reward him. He unclipped the cuffs from above them, and suddenly he was on the floor, holding the little one on his lap, and shoving himself fully inside of him. Percy cried out from all of his nodes suddenly flaring to life with pleasure, but even then, Overlord wouldn’t let him rest. He started to thrust into him, hips darting it to really slam into that valve of his. Percy wasn’t even fighting it. Like Unicron’s darkness, Percy was becoming corrupted in all things guilty and extreme.

“I-i’m not sure I can-!”

“You gonna take it, boy. Look at you. Takin’ it so good already, you can handle the little mess imma make.”

Overlord’s spike was bulging against his plating at every slam, body trying to accommodate its size. Percy felt at the bulge, seeming to be fascinated with it. Overlord swore under his breath. He was so ready for his turn, he wanted this little loser to feel all of him.

“Look at that. Look at how I’m bulging inside of you. That’s MY spike in you, and it’s about to pump you full.”

Overlord used one of his hand to rub at that little node of his, and in but a few moments, they overloaded. Percy was first, nearly screaming as Overlord not only fucked him right through it, but promptly overloaded in him right after. It must've been a while since last he had a little fun, because his spike did NOT go easy on him. Pumping him full of enough overload to bloat him, Percy whimpered and whined the whole way through. Overlord grinned as soon as he felt his processor catch up to the rest of him.

“Hooo...I know I made some messes in my day, but damn aren’t you somethin’ else.”

Overlord held the little mech in his arms, rubbing the bulge still present on his new little toy. Overlord leaned up, one hand groping at those soiled tits of his, and shoving his glossa down his intake. Percy welcomed him fully, groaning and mewling at the attention. Overlord liked to destroy things till they crumbled.

And Overlord was going to do JUST that with Megatron’s little friend.

[fansplaining]

A Note from Fansplaining

If you’re subscribed to Fansplaining on iTunes or another podcatcher, you’ve probably seen that we put out a short statement this week in lieu of a new episode. Because we’re committed to making all audio we release fully accessible, we’ll transcribe the clip at the bottom of this post, below the cut. But fwiw, it’s mostly just explaining what’s in this post:  

Black lives matter. We condemn white supremacy in all its forms. We believe the police should be defunded and dismantled. And we want to make sure everyone who listens to our podcast knows about ways they can contribute to this fight, and ways they can support the Black community (please note that these are U.S.-centric). We’ll be back with a new episode soon, but this is more important than anything we could say right now.

Places to donate

If you’re out of work or have lost hours in the past few months, you may not have money to spare. But even small donations—$5, $10—add up. A few organizations we recommend: 

House of GG, a Black-led organization, is fundraising to build a permanent home in Little Rock, Arkansas where trans and gender-nonconforming people can both be housed and receive leadership training.

G.L.I.T.S. is fundraising to buy two buildings to create a permanent place to house and support Black trans people in New York City, as well as sign leases for space to use in the interim.

Sista Afya, a Chicago-based organization, is fundraising to keep its therapeutic services, social events, and wellness experiences under $15 and to hold large scale events like a free arts festival.

For a larger crowdsourced list, see suggestions here.

Ways to get involved if you can’t physically or monetarily participate

If, like us, you live in New York City, here’s a great resource for actionable things you can do from home. Here’s a national list, though for more granular detail for your town/city/region, you should search social media. Some great google doc action happening right now!! 

As a reminder, when contacting elected officials: 

Always write your own email, rather than use a form. People who work or have worked in these offices strongly advise this, and report that form emails are regularly filtered out, often directly into the trash. 

Always write a postcard rather than a letter. Letters are scanned for things like anthrax and can get held up for days; postcards go straight through.

Ensure you know the official’s position on whatever you’re asking about before you call or write. If they’re already supporting or sponsoring a specific piece of legislation, call them anyway and thank them. They use constituent numbers to show that their positions have a lot of public support. 

Particularly for white and non-BIPOC: reach out to your family members, as much as you feel safe doing so, and speak with them about Black Lives Matter and the issues of the day. If you have language barriers with your family members, or just need a place to start, Letters For Black Lives is a great resource that includes material in many languages.

Stream this video—all ad revenue will go to bail funds, families of victims of racist police brutality, and other Black-led organizations.

Resources on anti-Blackness and racism in fandom

Because we are a fandom podcast, we encourage white fans in particular to continue to listen to Black fans and other fans of color when it comes to racism in fandom. If you’re new to the podcast or haven’t dug into the full back catalogue, we recommend prioritizing: 

Our pair of episodes on race and racism in fandom—especially anti-Blackness in fandom—featured eight different guests. Episodes 22A and B: “Race and Fandom Part 1” and “Race and Fandom Part 2.”

Ebony Elizabeth Thomas was one of our earliest and one of our most recent repeat guests. You can listen to her talk about race, children’s literature, and fandom in episode 7, “The Dark Fantastic” and episode 120, “Ebony Elizabeth Thomas.” Once you’ve listened to these episodes, buy or request that your library purchase a copy of her book, The Dark Fantastic.

Tanya DePass is the founder of I Need Diverse Games. In episode 42, “Fresh Out of Tokens,” she discussed fan/creator interaction and intersectionality in the context of games specifically. 

Rukmini Pande is a well-known scholar of race and fandom. She first joined us in episode 29, “Shipping and Activism,” to talk about the ways that ships intersect with politics; then, she returned in episode 89, “Rukmini Pande,” and discussed her academic work. Once you’ve listened to these episodes, buy or request that your library purchase a copy of her book, Squee From the Margins.

In episode 48, “Con or Bust,” we interviewed Diana Pho and Mark Oshiro, two board members of Con or Bust, an organization that raises money to help fans of color attend conventions.

For further reading, Fan Studies Network North America has put together a great list of resources.

Transcript

[Intro music: “Awel” by stefsax]

Flourish Klink: Hi, Elizabeth.

Elizabeth Minkel: Hi, Flourish.

FK: Welcome to not an episode of Fansplaining. Um, we almost completely canceled recording at all, but we decided that we wanted to record a short thing, because we know some people only receive us through their podcatcher or whatever and don’t ever go to our website or our social media. So it felt important that we actually record something short today.

ELM: All right. So, just off the bat, at the risk of sounding like a terrible brand black .jpg with white letters, I think it should be obvious to everybody right now but it’s always worth restating—Black Lives Matter. We strongly support everything that is happening right now. We both strongly believe that the police should be…what word are we gonna use? Dismantled?

FK: Yes.

ELM: Dismantled. Like, we, like, you know—and like, strongly condemn white supremacy, which is the foundation of our country and much of the world.

FK: Right. So… 

ELM: Very broad statement here, but like, you know, it’s definitely worth stating in explicit terms and not couching it around, you know, just to outright state support for Black people and the fight that is going on right now.

FK: Completely. And we really struggled with whether or not to record an episode because, on the one hand, there’s a lot of topics that we think would be really good to talk about that are within the purview of this podcast—stuff like the way people are using social media to organize, stuff like the entire conversation around K-pop fandom and the way that’s been going down. There’s like five things.

ELM: Spoiler, spoiler: It’s been going down poorly.

FK: Yeah.

ELM: Wait, side note: just anyone, please please please, cause I know a lot of people listen to this podcast and are in fandom but are not in K-pop fandom, if an article that you’re sharing about K-pop fans mobilizing doesn’t acknowledge the, like, rampant anti-Blackness happening within those spaces right now, they haven’t done enough research.

FK: Correct. And also, it’s both that and also if you see the narrative that K-pop fans are only bots, that’s also the other flip bad side of the coin.

ELM: Well, we should—now we’re gettin’ right into it. We’re not actually doing an episode. We’re not actually doing an episode. Yes.

FK: We’re actually gonna talk about this at some point in the future. Right now it feels like, you know, just being two white women talking about this stuff feels like not the thing to do right now? And we also don’t want to right now ask Black people to come on to our podcast and talk about things in a deeply traumatic and horrible moment. So we’re going to put a pin in the podcast and we’re gonna come back with all of those topics and a bunch of guests and basically begin to address this stuff, hopefully in a moment that’s less fraught. Is it ever gonna get less fraught? I don’t know if it’s gonna get less fraught.

ELM: That being said, let’s play it by ear! Because I could not tell you what’s gonna happen two weeks from now, but like… 

FK: [sighs] Yeah, I really don’t know either.

ELM: Just, we’ll see. So in the meantime, we are going to put a post on Tumblr so it’ll be shareable, and we are going to include resources—places to donate, in particular places that aren’t getting as much attention. More grassroots stuff that we’re seeking out right now. And also ways to be active and involved for people who don’t have the money or physical ability to be protesting right now, because I am very aware of the narrative of “You should be in the streets! And if not then you should donate!” And it’s like, well, what happens if you are unemployed and also physically unable to get out there? There are so many ways that you can really be, actively lend your support right now. 

So we’ll put those in there, and then also, we shared on Twitter a thread of great resources about anti-Blackness and racism in fandom, and since this is a fandom podcast we’ll be sharing some of those in that post as well, because it’s all connected.

FK: Absolutely. All right, everyone out there, stay safe, stay strong, if you’re in the streets stay in the streets, and we’ll be back when we can.

ELM: OK, bye Flourish!

FK: Bye, Elizabeth.

[Outro music: “Awel” by stefsax]

[zargsnake]

Knightkiller: Anakin and Obi-Wan’s First Adventure

Chapter 7: Jane

Word Count: 2217 Links: Chapter 1, Table of Contents

 *   *   *

Freed, with the help of the little screwdriver Anakin gave her, on the lower floor of the space station, Zlinky uses the nearest control panel to disable the local electricity. The already dark lower-prison hall turns completely black.

As an Akarn, Zlinky has a third eye in the middle of her forehead which can adapt to almost any environment. Many droids have night vision too, but Zlinky has observed from her time in captivity that droids are poorly kept here. Knightkiller, with her telepathic powers and abundant riches, holds sway over the organic beings in her employment; the guards and patrons here are all devoted to her. But Knightkiller has neglected her mechanical servants. They are all falling into disrepair, and Zlinky has even detected them grumbling among themselves.

People forget too easily that droids, nowadays, have extremely advanced personalities. Adults underestimate how independently-minded their droids can be. But children understand. They have never known droids to be any other way.

Zlinky sneaks down the hall, past the fumbling guards. Other prisoners soon realize that their own electrobars have become deactivated, and they start to emerge into the hallway too, their arms outstretched in front of them, tripping and feeling their way through the dark. Zlinky maneuvers through them with a small measure of grace and a large measure of scrutiny.

Lightsabers, lightsabers, lightsabers, lightsabers, lightsabers. I must find all four. Once we've found them, we'll be unstoppable.

Suddenly, a guard grabs her from behind. A Togruta -- he must have used echolocation. Zlinky squirms against his arms, then stabs behind her wildly with the screwdriver. She isn't sure where she hit him -- the stomach, possibly. But he howls in pain and loosens his grip. She slithers out and leaps, calling upon the Force to help her. She hits her head on the hallway ceiling, but the ploy, otherwise, works. Holding her head, she stumbles around the corner and sees a door marked “Storage.”

Maybe our lightsabers are here? Well, SOMETHING useful must be in here! All I have now is this flimsy little tool.

But she does feel extremely grateful for the little screwdriver, and she hopes Anakin will let her keep it. She would call it good luck, if she believed in that stuff. Instead, she'll call it exceedingly useful. She picks the lock to the storage room with the screwdriver, which takes a frighteningly long minute, dashes inside, and shuts the door behind her.

Zlinky sees cabinets and closets and boxes full of files and records, piles of office and medical supplies. Who would think running a death sport would be so bureaucratic? The haphazardness offends her Temple-trained sensibilities.

But most importantly, she sees, in the corner, a rusted old murder-droid, missing much of its plating and bent over in disrepair. Its shape is about as humanoid as her own, though a couple feet taller. Compassion moves her to approach it. She sees that someone has scribbled a face with two X's for eyes and a frown on a little yellow piece of paper and taped it over the murder-droid's face to signify its death. She yanks the paper off and examines the droid’s busted innards.

There's a flipzipter. A gavel gear. A pair of old-fashioned mono-trammers. It's really not too different from the diner-droids on which she learned robotic engineering. A gunky substance has clogged its gears; she tries to scrape it off with the screwdriver, but she can't get a grip on it with that. She takes a nervous glance at the bulky laser blasters on its back, then plunges her own claws into its chest and scoops out the goop. She pulls out a burnt-up square of metal which was caught in the goop; upon closer inspection, she guesses that it used to be a memory chip. Oh well -- it's useless now. She bends the flipzipter back into its standard position, and reattaches the wires that had become unplugged from it.

With a tiny jolt of electricity that shoots through the Padawan and makes any hairs loose from her braid stick out, the murder-droid wakes up, its red eyes the only light in the darkness.

“ʙʟᴢᴢᴋᴢᴢɢᴀᴀᴀᴀᴀ! ᴀᴀᴀᴀʜ!! AAAAAHHHH!!!! ᴡʜᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ?! ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴏɴ?! ᴡʜᴏ ᴀᴍ ɪ?!”

“Shhh!” Zlinky pulls her sticky hands out of its chest and throws them on top of its mouth-slot -- her mouth-slot, she supposes, since the droid has a feminine voice. “Keep it down! The badguys are looking for me!”

In a muffled voice, the murder-droid responds, “ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ YOU! ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ME?”

“Well you SHOULD care about me! I just saved your life!”

“ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅ?”

“Yeah, I repaired you, you ungrateful bucket of bolts!”

The murder-droid issues whirring noises from several parts. “ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴍʏ ʟᴇɢꜱ!”

“Well I'm not finished! I just started! And if you don't keep it down I never will!”

The murder-droid narrows the dots of light that project her eyes. “ᴡʜᴏ ᴀᴍ ɪ?”

“Well... I'll check your brain-text, but I'm not optimistic.” Zlinky unscrews a panel on the side of the droid’s head. “Yeah. It's like I thought. You've been pirated. They scraped off your original ID number.”

“ᴡʜᴀᴛ?! ʙᴜᴛ -- ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ!”

“Nobody's nothing. They must have called you something. Unfortunately, at least one of your memory chips has melted. I think.”

With a squeaking sound, the murder-droid raises her claw to her forehead. “ᴏʜ... ᴍʏ ꜰʀᴀɢɪʟᴇ ᴍɪɴᴅ…”

“Hey, don't worry about it. These bozos didn't respect you, but you're with the Jedi now.”

“ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴇᴅɪ?”

“Yeah, like me! I'm a Jedi! My name is Zlinky Zalt.”

“ᴠᴇʀʏ ʀᴜᴅᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ꜰʟᴀᴜɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ, ᴄᴏɴꜱɪᴅᴇʀɪɴɢ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴏɴᴇ.”

“Uh, sorry. Well, let's find you a name; what do you do--?”

Zlinky accidentally zaps herself with an open wire and bites her lip in a grimace.

The murder-droid’s eyes become scattered dots that beep quickly and softly. “ꜱᴇᴀʀᴄʜɪɴɢ ... ᴍᴀɪɴꜰʀᴀᴍᴇ ... ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴄᴏʟ: NEUTRALIZE.”

“Neutralize?”

Her eyes flicker back to solid red. “ᴀꜰꜰɪʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ.”

“Neutralize what?”

Her eyes become scattering dots again. “ꜱᴇᴀʀᴄʜɪɴɢ ... ᴍᴀɪɴꜰʀᴀᴍᴇ ... ʜᴀʀᴅᴡᴀʀᴇ ... ꜱʏꜱᴛᴇᴍꜱ ... ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴀɴᴅ ... ʙᴢᴢᴛ ... ꜱᴇᴀʀᴄʜɪɴɢ ... ‘ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ’ ... ‘ᴛᴀʀɢᴇᴛ’ ... вzzт ... b҉z҉z҉t҉ ... ᴛᴀʀɢᴇᴛ: ERROR.” Her eyes flicker back to red, but with the sides tilted down in sorrow. “ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛᴇᴅ.”

“Hey, it's okay. The Jedi can get you a new purpose. As long as your programming isn't hopelessly violent…”

“ᴡʜᴇɴ? ʜᴏᴡ ꜱᴏᴏɴ?”

“Well I don't know. As soon as I can get you back to the Temple.”

“ʟᴇᴛ’ꜱ ɢᴏ.” The murder-droid stands up straight.

“Wait!” Zlinky pulls some wires apart.

“ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ʟᴇɢꜱ! ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ꜱᴏᴏɴ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪxᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ!”

“Yeah, I did. Your purpose right now is to stay put.”

“ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀɴ ᴜɴᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴡᴀꜱᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇꜱ.”

“Deal with it. Patience is an ability, too.”

“ɪꜰ ᴀʟʟ ᴊᴇᴅɪ ᴀʀᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ.”

“Fine. Do you want me to shut you down again?”

“ʙᴜᴢᴢ ʙᴜᴢᴢ ʙᴜᴢᴢ, ɢʀᴜᴍᴍᴍm҉m҉m̵̧̌̍͋̆b̸̧̙͈͈̓̌̌ĺ̵͕͔͇͔͎̠̗͈͍ͅe̷̖͎̳͖̬̅́…”

“I'll take that as a no.” The droid is silent as Zlinky works on her. “I'm sorry we're not at the Temple right now. Believe me, I want to be there far more than you do.”

“ɪ ᴅᴏᴜʙᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ. ɪ ᴀᴍ ɪɴ ��ɴ ᴇxɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ ꜰʟᴜx.”

I have to repair her mind AND her body! thinks Zlinky.

“Uh, okay, listen. How about I give you a temporary name and a temporary mission right now. Just to tide you over until we get back home. Er, I mean, back to the Temple.”

“ʜʀʀᴜᴍᴍʜʜᴘᴘʙᴢᴢᴢ ʙᴢᴢᴛ ʙᴇᴇᴘ ʙᴇᴇᴘ.”

Zlinky spins a cog and sees a panel of lights in the droid’s guts turn on. She thinks she’s nearly got her -- then she hears the weapons on the droid's back powering on. The young girl swallows nervously.

“Okay, your temporary mission is to protect me and the three other Jedi: my master Tila Juna, a 500-year-old gray Lollian with one broken horn -- Anakin Skywalker, a 9-year-old human with pink skin and yellow hair and blue eyes -- and -- uh -- his master too.”

“ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴄᴏʟ ɪɴꜱᴛᴀʟʟɪ-- ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴄᴏʟ ɪɴᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ. ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪꜰʏ ꜰᴏᴜʀᴛʜ ᴊᴇᴅɪ!”

“I can't! I don't remember their name! I'll know them when I see them.”

“ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟʟʏ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟɪᴢᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴊᴇᴅɪ?”

“Well, first of all, only neutralize when absolutely necessary.”

“... ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ... ɪɴᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀᴛɪʙʟᴇ ... ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴀᴍᴍɪɴɢ.”

“Oh gimme a break!”

Maybe this is a mistake, thinks Zlinky. I don't want to go on a rampage. But I must get out of here! I have to get back to Tila! That's my top priority!

“Look, I'm very sneaky,” Zlinky says, reassuringly. “You might not have to neutralize anyone. You just have to protect me.”

“... ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋᴡᴀʀᴅꜱ, ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɢʀᴀꜰᴛ ᴀ ᴅᴇꜰᴇɴꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴄᴏʟ ᴏɴᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴏꜰꜰᴇɴꜱɪᴠᴇ ꜱʏꜱᴛᴇᴍꜱ.”

Zlinky replies, smugly, “Well I do it every day. That's what being a Jedi is all about! Protecting the innocent, defending the law!”

“... ʙʟʀʀʀɢɢɢɢ.” The droid’s eyes become one annoyed horizontal line of dots. “ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴄᴏʟ ... ᴀʟɪɢɴɪɴɢ ... ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴄᴏʟ ɪɴꜱᴜꜰꜰᴇʀᴀʙʟᴇ.”

“Oh come on, grow up. It's good to be the hero.”

“ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ‘ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴏʀᴀʀʏ ɴᴀᴍᴇ,’ ᴛᴏᴏ.”

“Yeeeah. I did. Um ... Jedi ... Jedi ... Temple ... Temple Bot? Teebee?”

The murder-droid shudders. “ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɪᴅᴅɪɴɢ? ᴛᴇᴇʙᴇᴇ?”

“What's wrong with Teebee?”

“ɪ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ɪᴛ.”

“Beggars can't be choosers.”

“ɪᴅ: REJECTED. ʀᴇᴀꜱ��ɴ: ɪɴᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀᴛɪʙʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴀᴍᴍɪɴɢ. ᴛᴏᴏ ᴀᴅᴏʀᴀʙʟᴇ.”

“Jedi Bot? Jaybee?”

Goop dribbles out of the droid’s mouth slot.

“Alright then... Neutralize. Neutralizer. Jedi ... Jedi Neutralizer. No. Wait. That sounds wrong.”

“ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ,” the murder-droid says quickly.

“Ah, wait!”

“ᴊᴇᴅɪ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟɪᴢᴇʀ.”

Zlinky sighs. “Fine. Jedi Neutralizer. JN.”

“ᴊɴ. ᴊᴀɴᴇ.”

“Jane?”

“ᴊᴀɴᴇ. ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ,” the droid repeats.

“Me too,” Zlinky responds, truthfully.

As soon as Jane is functionally repaired, Zlinky finds her a battery pack, since they have no time to recharge her. She looks around for a new memory card, but finds nothing. Oh, well. Jane will just have a very short-term memory until they find new hardware for her. Without the card, she can't have any more than one gig of memory. Zlinky will just have to keep reminding her that her name is Jane and her purpose is to protect the four Jedi. Zlinky fears that Jane will forget this and kill her on accident. That would be very ironic. But for now, Zlinky is glad to have her.

Once they leave the storage room, Zlinky points to a guard and begins to command Jane to knock them out, but Jane has already blasted them.

“Ah! Are they alive?” Zlinky whispers in terror.

“ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ?”

Zlinky cautiously approaches the body. “...They're alive. Keep your blaster at exactly that setting, okay? Don't change anything.”

“ᴀꜰꜰɪʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ.”

“Great.”

She tugs the armor off the guard and puts it on herself. Together, they quietly leave the lower prison in absolute chaos and locate the space station employee break room and quarters across a hall. Zlinky finds a station map on the employee computer, which someone had, happily, left logged in.

She finally gets a good look at the layout of the station. The lower floor has a prison and under-arena logistical areas; the main floor has the arena, gladiator rooms, and the best seating; and the upper floor has another prison and the balcony cheap seats.

She searches for where Knightkiller could be. Tila recognized Knightkiller as her old friend Glagret, and told her Padawan so before they were separated. Zlinky knows that the key to escaping, and to stopping this whole evil enterprise, is Glagret. Why has she turned evil? Why did she gather all these crooks together? Why is she mind-tricking Jedi children?

Zlinky figures there must be something controlling her. She imagines striking the implement off the old alien’s brain and rescuing her, restoring her to her true, good self.

What happened 400 years ago on the Liberated Comet? If she was alive, why didn't she come back?

One Padawan and one droid probably don't stand a chance against her.

Zlinky sees in the screen projection that Obi-Wan is fighting in the arena, and Tila is being held as bait. Zlinky wonders why Anakin isn't. She guesses, with a heavy heart, that Obi-Wan was so stubborn about playing along that they killed Anakin in retribution. She feels her guts writhe with fear and anger at the thought. The boy was so kind, and clever, and so very strong in the Force, strong enough to resist a mind-trick -- unheard of at his age -- even though it was stupid of him to try. Perhaps his last legacy is the screwdriver. She will not let him die in vain.

Unless, of course, he's still alive. She wonders if, perhaps, he escaped, just as she has…

She hears an ominous whirring sound, drifting away.

“Jane! Don't wander off.” Zlinky grabs Jane’s rifle-barrel and pulls her back to her side. “Stay with me. You must protect me; it is your purpose.”

“ᴡʜᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ?”

“... Call me Guard.”

“ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅ ʀɪɢʜᴛ.”

Zlinky looks around nervously at the other guards. She grabs Jane's head and whispers into her audio-slot. “Zlinky Zalt. But don't say so. I'm in disguise right now. So shhh.”

“ᴀʜʜʜʜ. ɪ ꜱᴇᴇ.”

“Uh, good.” The confidence in Jane's voice makes Zlinky doubt that Jane has any idea what's going on. She shakes her head and continues looking at this map.

Chapter 8: Priorities

[thompsborn]

fic where harley is a doctor that works w helen cho that sees peter often because of how much he gets hurt from being spider-man? and they fall in love bc they r already smitten for each other bc why wouldn't they be

i didn’t know how much i needed an au like this until you sent it omg

[read on ao3]

—

He’s in the middle of taking a sip of coffee when the alarm goes off.

“Mister Keener,” Friday says, as he’s cursing over the hot coffee that’s soaking into the front of his shirt. Thankfully, it’s not hot enough to actually burn him, but that doesn’t make it any less unpleasant. “Your assistance is needed in the Medical Wing.”

Harley frowns. “What time is it?”

“Four fifty eight in the morning, Mister Keener.”

“Jesus, really?” Harley sets his mug down and turns his arm over to look at his watch. His brows shoot up towards his hairline, surprised. “Wow. Okay. Didn’t realize it was... Jesus. Alright.”

Friday sounds almost amused when she tells him, “Doctor Cho is insisting you hurry.”

Harley sighs. “Yeah, okay. On my way.”

At this time of the night, the only medical staff on hand are the ones who live close by—like Helen, who has an apartment less than a two minute walk away—and those who live on site, like Harley, who’s had his own floor in the tower since he was fifteen and told Tony over a phone call that he was thinking about coming to New York once he was done with high school. Because of this, Harley isn’t all that surprised to find that it’s only him and Helen that show up in the MedBay—if anything, it’s what he expected.

And he should have expected who, exactly, they’re treating in the middle of the night, but he still finds himself mildly surprised when he comes face to face with Peter’s sheepish grin.

“Of course it’s you,” Harley says, standing at the foot of the hospital bed with his arms crossed over his chest. “Who else would be waking me up like this?”

“Don’t lie to me,” Peter says, sheepish grin turning a bit snarky. “You weren’t asleep.”

Harley purses his lips. “I could’ve been.”

Peter rolls his eyes, but doesn’t get the chance to respond before Helen is hovering by his side, snapping her gloves into place and instructing, “Friday, give me the run down.“

“Mister Parker has several second degree burns along his left leg and left arm,” Friday responds. “His right wrist is broken, and there appears to be a laceration along his abdomen.”

Harley winces in sympathy. “Rough night?”

Peter tries to shrug, but the movement makes his features twist up in a flash of pain. His voice comes out a bit strained when he says, “You could say that. There was—house fire. Not fun.”

“Get everyone out?” Harley asks, if only to provide a slight distraction as Helen assesses the broken wrist, likely checking to see if it needs to be reset or if it’ll be able to heal properly as it is. Peter tries for a grin.

“All of ‘em. Even the kids pet turtle.”

Harley pats Peter’s right knee, careful to remember that it’s his left leg with the burns. “Job well done, Spider-Man.”

“Harley,” Helen says, grabbing his attention. She’s apparently deemed Peter’s wrist not a main concern and is already peeling Peter’s suit off of him. Harley snaps into focus instantly, listening intently as Helen tells him, “I need you to take care of the laceration while I get started on the burns. When that’s done, we need to get that wrist in a cast until it heals.”

Peter pouts. “A cast? Really?”

Helen looks at him sharply. “Last time we didn’t put you in a cast, you managed to re-break your arm before it could heal. Twice.”

Peter’s pout vanishes with a meek chuckle. “It was an accident?” he offers.

“You, Peter Parker,” Helen says, averting her attention back to his burns as she speaks, “are somehow my best and my worst patient of all time. And I’m Tony Stark’s doctor, too, so that says a whole lot about you.”

“Hey—” Peter cuts off with a hiss as Harley starts to disinfect the large cut on his side. Harley offers an apologetic half smile that Peter waves away with another wince and a wobbly sort of grin. “I’m not worse than Mr. Stark.”

Helen hums, high pitched and teasing.

“I’m not,” Peter insists. “I’m not!”

“Believe what you want,” Helen tells him.

Peter huffs. “Why are you being mean to me? Aren’t doctors supposed to be nice to their patients? Isn’t that, like, a thing?”

Harley snorts when Helen says, “Next time, don’t wake me up at four in the morning with second degree burns and a broken wrist, and maybe then I’ll be nicer to you, hm?”

—

The thing is, Harley didn’t plan on this.

As in, growing up, he was sure that what he wanted was to be a mechanic. He loved to build, take apart, recreate, understand. It’s all he ever did. Hell, when Tony Frickin’ Stark broke into his garage, the guy ended up making Harley his own mechanic heaven to say thanks for helping him out.

And Harley still loves all of that, to be fair—he spends a lot of his free time tinkering in Tony’s lab now, helping him out with whatever the man’s working on and often working on his own fun little projects on the side—but it’s not his main drive. It’s not the center of his world.

He thinks it started when he saved Tony.

In a way, anyway—he had only been twelve at the time, and it’s not like twelve year olds are exactly apt on having life changing realizations that change the course of their future. Still, he was a twelve year old that saved Tony Stark’s life, and there was some kind of thrill, almost. It was hard to explain then, and Harley isn’t sure if he could put it into words now, but the feeling had made his fingers feel all tingly and his heart thud heavily in his chest. It was similar to when he built his first successful bot and it came whirring to life, only the feeling was intensified.

He felt like he was doing what he was supposed to be doing. He knew he wanted to save lives.

“You’re getting better,” Helen tells him, after Harley’s helped the medical team with bandaging up the members of the Avengers that just returned from a mission. None of the wounds had been major, mostly just scrapes and bruises, but it’s the most amount of people Harley has helped treat at once, which is a big step.

Harley shrugs, drying off his hands, having just finished washing them. “You’re a good teacher.”

Helen chuckles at that. “How are your classes?”

“Good,” Harley answers, nodding his head. “Kinda boring. I know most of it already, thanks to all the training you’ve given me, but that‘s not really new. I knew everything they taught me in high school, too.”

“You sound like Peter when you say that,” Helen muses, an amused quirk to her brow.

Harley rolls his eyes. “Y’know, people keep saying that, but I only see him when he’s bleeding out and that doesn’t make it feel like we’re all that similar.”

“Oh, you’re similar, alright,” Helen says, laughing a bit. “You’re both genius kids who bust your asses off to save people’s lives.”

Wrinkling his nose, Harley says, “But I don’t do it in spandex. Key difference there, doc.”

Helen holds her hands up in some kind of surrender. “Just saying, you two are alike.”

“I’ll make sure to tell him you said that next time he breaks his leg,” Harley quips.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Friday interjects, “but Spider-Man is reportedly injured and heading to the tower now. ETA of six and a half minutes.”

Harley rolls his eyes up to the ceiling with an exasperated sigh. Helen can only laugh.

—

“Ow. Ow, ow—oh, Jesus, that’s—ow—!”

“Sorry,” Harley says, only averting his eyes for a second to flash Peter an apologetic look before focusing back on the stitches he’s giving him.

Peter curses, slamming his left fist into his own thigh as Harley pushes the needle through. “This sucks,” he complains, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth. “This is—why is this worse than getting stabbed? Why do I prefer getting stabbed over this? This blows.”

“You need to stop moving,” Harley tells him.

Making an indignant sort of noise, Peter asks, “How the hell am I—I can’t stop moving! This hurts, man, like—like, really fuckin’ hurts!”

“Moving makes it worse, dipshit,” Harley retorts, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

“You know what else makes it worse?” Peter glares at the wall. “Not having pain killers.”

Harley does roll his eyes now. “Not my job. I just give you the drugs, I don’t make them.”

“I know, but Mr. Stark isn’t here for me to bitch at, so I’m complaining to you about it instead.”

Harley can’t help the way that he snorts at that, finishing off the last of the stitches as he does so. “I usually don’t like to listen to someone complain while I’m working.”

“Sucks to suck,” Peter replies. “Are you done?”

“Yep.” Harley leans back, taking off his gloves and tossing them into the trash. “Any other injuries? Stab wounds? Broken bones?”

Peter hums, tilting his head from side to side. “I don’t think so. Friday?”

“All clear, Mr. Parker.”

Harley frowns. “The fact that you had to ask worries me.”

Peter shrugs. “I get hurt a lot. Kinda used to it.”

“Still,” Harley says. “That’s concerning. Like, you still feel pain, right? You would know if you were hurt somewhere else, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, trust me, I feel pain,” Peter snorts. “But some things just... don’t matter? Like... I dunno, but if it’s not serious, it’s like my brain filters it out on it’s own to focus on other things. Which, probably, y’know, not good, but, like, oh well.”

“Definitely not good,” Harley murmurs, frowning to himself as he squints around the room for a moment. “Well, if you have nothing else, then you’re good to go. And, honestly, thank god that’s all you have, ‘cause this is the first time I’ve done anything without Helen around and anything more than stitches would’ve had me flipping shit and fucking it all up.”

Peter lets out a light laugh, pulling his shirt down, over the gash that Harley just finished stitching. “You wouldn’t fuck it up,” he says, sounding light and humorous yet entirely serious, too. “You’re, like, really good at your job, Harley.”

Harley scrunches his nose up on his face. “Ew. Don’t be nice to me. It’s gross.”

Peter laughs again, a little bit louder, though the way it makes his stomach jump has him wincing when it pulls at his stitches. “I’m serious!” he insists. “Like, I know you’re still a med student and stuff, but Helen is probably the best person to be training you, so you’re, like, more qualified than most normal doctors. You have the experience that most people still in med school don’t have. I mean, you patch up the freakin’ Avengers, Harley! You gotta be good at this to do that!”

“I help patch up the Avengers,” Harley corrects. “The only person I’ve ever fixed up by myself is you, thanks to your insane ability to always get hurt.”

“It’s a talent,” Peter shrugs. “And hey, I bet it keeps you entertained.”

Harley snorts. “Entertained is not the right word for it, Spidey. Impressed, maybe, by just how much trouble you’re capable of getting yourself into.”

Peter grins. “Gotta impress people somehow, right?”

—

Harley wouldn’t call it bonding.

Because it’s not. It’s not bonding. It’s small talk, and pleasant conversations, while Harley sets a broken bone or treats another burn. It’s filling the silence because, apparently, Helen trusts Harley to handle Peter on his own, unless it’s a major injury that requires more than one person on hand, and Harley isn’t sure why he’s being trusted with this, but he’s pretty intent on not fucking it up.

But it isn’t bonding. They’re just... acquaintances. Who talk. Like, a lot, because Peter comes in at least four times a week needing treatment for something, and that gives them a lot of time to talk. Maybe Harley learns a lot about Peter during this time, like his favorite song, and what his comfort hoodie is, and why he became Spider-Man in the first place. Maybe Peter learns where Harley is from, how he met Tony, and what made him decide to be a doctor over a mechanic.

Maybe, after a few weeks, they start having inside jokes, built not only from the time they spend alone together, but also from the months upon months that Harley was helping Helen treat Peter, too. Sometimes, Peter snorts so hard that he reopens his stitches and Harley has to fix it. Sometimes, Harley can’t stop laughing when he needs to have steady hands and he ends up hunching over on himself and wheezing because of whatever it is that Peter said. One day, Peter comes in when he isn’t injured, dressed in casual clothes with a few textbooks from his ESU courses in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. “I’m headed up to see Mr. Stark,” he tells Harley, “but I thought I’d give you this,” and he holds out the cup of coffee with a big, cheesy sort of grin.

“Why?” Harley asks, though he accepts the cup gratefully.

Peter shrugs. “I’d probably have bled out ten times over if it weren’t for you, and you looked, like, really tired yesterday, so I thought you might need it.”

He is tired—exhausted, really, because his classes may not be hard but there are some big tests coming up that he needs to study for and it’s hard to find the time to study in between training with Helen and doing all the millions of other assignments that are being tossed his way. He takes a sip of the coffee, hums in satisfaction at the way it warms him up, and says, “Thanks.”

“Least I could do,” Peter tells him.

So, maybe they’re friends. Maybe—maybe—Harley is starting to look forward to seeing him and keeps trying to think of a casual way to offer they hang out sometime, outside of the med bay. Maybe Peter starts bringing Harley a cup of coffee every time he goes to visit Tony, and maybe Harley starts to feel a little thrill whenever he hands the coffee over and their fingers briefly brush.

Maybe it is bonding, but it’s not a crush. It’s not.

(”You’re adorable when you’re in denial,” Helen tells him.

Harley sinks in his seat and tries to disappear. “Shut up.”)

—

The letters of his textbook are blurring in front of his eyes when the alarm rings.

He jumps at the sound, looks up at the ceiling with slightly squinted eyes and furrowed brows, expecting Friday to calmly inform him that his assistance is needed in the med bay, like usual. Instead of that, though, the alarm continues to blare, and all Friday says is, “Urgent. Urgent. Urgent.”

Which is code for: someone’s about to die if he doesn’t hurry.

Instantly, he jumps to his feet, feeling wide awake despite being on the brink of dozing off just a few short moments ago. “Okay,” he tells himself, rushing out of his room and sprinting towards the elevator, which is already open and waiting for him. He only just barely thinks to swipe his tablet along the way, clutches it in his hands while he says, “Okay, okay, okay—who, uh—Friday? Who is it?”

“Iron Man and Spider-Man are both heavily injured and require immediate assistance,” Friday informs him gravely. “Doctor Cho is already treating Mr.Stark and has told me to inform you that you will be in charge of Mr. Parker.”

“Oh, god,” Harley breathes, pinching the bridge of his nose and giving himself a second to take a deep breath while the elevator takes him down to the proper floor. “Jesus. Okay. I need, uh—give me a list of Peter’s injuries, Fri.”

“Of course, Mr. Keener.”

The list is sent to his tablet immediately, and it’s—extensive. Third degree burns and multiple shattered ribs and various bullet wounds, only some of which are clean through, meaning that there’s various bullets that they need to remove before Peter starts to heal around them. The more he reads, the faster his heart thunders in his chest while his mind automatically sorts through it to think of what needs to be prioritized, what to treat first, and how to keep Peter alive.

By the time he reaches Peter’s room, he has a game plan figured out, and he only falters for a short moment when he sees Peter on the hospital bed, writhing around and sobbing in pain. The rest of the medical staff in the room freeze, likely already aware that Helen put him in charge, and wait with bated breath.

“Alright,” Harley says, mostly to himself. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

—

Maybe it is a crush.

Harley is finding it hard to deny it now, as he sits beside Peter’s hospital bed, his hands feeling a little bit shaky where they’re clasped together and hanging between his knees. They had to undergo emergency surgery, and Peter’s heart had stopped four times throughout the procedure. Bringing him back had been the most panic inducing thing Harley has ever experienced in his life, and he couldn’t even show it because he was the one that was put in charge.

But they did, all four times —they got his heart going again and they got out all the bullets and treated all the burns and did everything they could to stabilized the broken bones. They gave him multiple IV’s, all of which he’s still attached to, and he hasn’t woken up since he passed out from the pain shortly after Harley’s arrival—and he passed out looking at Harley, too, with wide, pleading eyes that seemed to be begging for mercy, filled with agony and despair.

Harley would do anything to never have to see that look again.

“How’s he doing?” Helen asks, stepping into the room. She looks tired, undoubtedly exhausted from doing whatever she could to stabilize Tony just a few rooms down. Harley feels that exhaustion in his very bones.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Harley tells her. “Lost him a few times, though.”

Helen hums sympathetically. “But you got him back.”

Harley hesitates, then nods. “Yeah, we did.”

“Good,” Helen says, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You did good.” She stays like that for a moment, doesn’t move, and Harley appreciates the gesture but kind of wants to be alone. Maybe she senses that, because a moment later, she’s pulling her hand back and asking, “Are you staying here?”

“‘Til he wakes up,” Harley tells her.

Helen smiles at him warmly. “Make sure you get some rest, too, okay?”

Harley doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep until he sees Peter awake and talking again, but he still nods at her and says, “Yeah, alright.”

After Helen leaves the room, after it’s just Harley and Peter again, he finds himself reaching forward and taking Peter’s hand in his, and, other than the innocent brush of fingers when passing a coffee cup, this is the first time they’ve touched outside of Harley treating Peter’s wounds. It’s a bit of a startling realization, but Harley finds comfort in the contact, listens to the steady beeping of the heart monitor and starts to relax with the reassurance that he really did good, that Peter is going to be okay and Harley is the one that saved him.

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but with that relief flooding his veins and Peter’s hand in his, he finds himself dozing off and doesn’t bother forcing himself awake.

—

At first, he doesn’t realize he’s waking up, his senses still muddled with sleep. It feels almost as if he’s floating in unconsciousness, warm and comfortable and— 

“Harley?”

And he wakes with a jolt, eyes snapping open and instantly searching, only coming to a stop when they land on wide brown eyes looking right back at him. “Oh,” he breathes, blinking once and sitting up straight despite the way it makes his back complain. “Oh, my god. You’re awake.”

Peter tilts his head, just a little bit, and looks down at their intertwined fingers.

“Right. That.” Harley clears his throat and scrubs his free hand over his features, trying to wake himself up with a sheepish little smile. “It’s, um—not important, actually. How do you feel? Any pain, discomfort, anything like that?”

For a moment, Peter doesn’t respond, just keeps looking at their hands before rasping out a hoarse little, “’m kinda—kinda thirsty. M’throat hurts.”

Instantly, Harley gets to his feet and pulls open the mini fridge in the room to grab a bottle of water. He takes it back to Peter, hands it over, and feels somewhere stuck between doctor mode and something else, the worry and the uncertainty and the fear from hearing the flat line all mixing together until he feels nauseous with it. Peter accepts the water bottle gratefully, takes tentative sips from it and only winces slightly when he swallows it. “Better?” Harley asks.

Peter smiles, a bit small and tired, but just as genuine as always. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Harley murmurs, hovering by the chair he had been sitting in before. “Is there anything else? Just, like—anything at all? How do you feel?”

“Tired,” Peter tells him. “Like, um... groggy, y’know? And... out of it.”

Harley nods, a bit relieved that the dose of pain killers he chose was the right amount. “That’s to be expected. You were really roughed up, Pete.”

Peter frowns down at his water, brows knitting together. “What happened?”

“There was an ambush,” Harley tells him. “I guess Doc Ock was out and about, so you went to confront him and he got enough hits in to alert Tony, so he went to help you out, but Ock apparently teamed up with Rhino and they were able to catch you guys off guard and get the upper hand. Rhodey and a few others went to help out, but they didn’t get there in time to stop you guys from nearly getting killed, so, when you came in, it was... not pretty. But, you’re both gonna be fine.”

He wants to say that it’s not a crush. It can’t be a crush, isn’t supposed to be one, even if seeing the way Peter lets out a puff of air and relaxes back into his pillows is kind of a... not so bad sight. He looks tired and a bit beat up and a little too pale, but he’s good. He’s alive. Being alive looks good on him.

Maybe, Harley admits. Maybe it is a crush.

“Thank you,” Peter murmurs, head lulling back into the pillows. He holds out a hand and Harley isn’t sure what the action is for, but he doesn’t think before reaching forward and tangling their fingers together.

Harley clears his throat. “What for?”

“Not letting me die,” Peter says.

The mere idea of letting Peter die makes Harley’s heart stutter in his chest. “Of course,” he mumbles, a bit stricken. “I’ll always save you. It’s my job.”

Peter squeezes Harley’s hand, falls asleep with a sigh and a smile on his face.

Harley still doesn’t leave.

(It’s definitely, one hundred percent, a huge, gigantic crush, and maybe... maybe he’s okay with that. Maybe liking Peter Parker isn’t all that bad.)

[spacebatisluvd]

Summary: Entrapta receives an invitation. 

Content Warning: A neurotypical writer attempting to portray an autistic character (with respect, compassion, and love, but I recognize there’s a chance I’ve fumbled here—just know it’s unintentional), Sea Hawk, Hordak’s poor sense of self-worth, cult-typical abuse, veiled references to masturbation, genital discussion, discussion of sex and sexual relationships.

-

Entrapta looked through the microscope, studying the micro-welds she’d made. Her mouth twisted a little, dissatisfied with the results. She sighed. “Emily, make a note—I need more silver solder. This prototype is a bust.” She tossed it behind her head, hearing it crack against the ground a moment later. One of the little recycling bots would be by to pick it up and take it apart soon enough, making sure nothing went to waste.

She glanced at Emily. “You know, Hordak’s really good with delicate work like this. His hands are so steady, and his welds are so...precise.” She gave a happy little shiver. “I wanted to surprise him with a working prototype, but maybe I should just give him the designs and let him build it. That’s still a surprise, right?”

Emily made a negative-sounding beep. Entrapta winced. “You’re right. Of course you’re right.” She stood, stretching. “I just need to make a working prototype—it doesn’t have to be pretty, just functional!” She used her hair to perform a tight backflip, shaking out her limbs as her feet came to rest on the ground once more. “Okay! Let’s do this—Emily, play recording.”

Emily made a happy whirring sound, the top half of her chassis spinning. Then Hordak’s recorded message began to play. Entrapta shut her eyes, listening to him describe the far-off stars that were normally too dim to see with Etheria’s many moons. She knew he’d probably assumed she would only listen to it while gazing up at those stars, but she’d found herself listening over and over again, lulled by the sound of his voice, even if she’d long since memorized his words.

She sat down and went back to work, adjusting her initial design into something more workable. When Hordak returned,  they could refine and revise her work. She just needed to provide proof of concept. S he hoped it would work. She thought it would. The data indicated that it should, but she couldn’t exactly test it. Well. Maybe if she asked Kadroh...but would he guess what it was for? She knew Hordak would prefer to keep this—

“What?” she asked, looking up when Emily insistently butted against her. “What is—?“ Then she realized her communicator had been ringing for quite some time now. “Oh! Answer call!”

Scorpia’s face appeared on-screen, accompanied by Perfuma. “Hey!” she said, waving a claw. “I was getting a little worried there. We called twice, and I didn’t want to bother you—“

“I’m not bothered at all! If I was in the middle of something dangerous, Emily wouldn’t have interrupted me.”

“...dangerous?” Perfuma asked, gripping the front on her shirt more tightly.

“Oh, good!” Scorpia said, while Perfuma frowned. “I just wanted to invite you to the flower festival.”

“Flower festival?”

Perfuma stepped forward, smiling a little. “Yes! Plumeria has an annual flower festival during the week of the summer solstice. It celebrates the transition from a time of renewal and recovery to a time of joy and growth!” Entrapta smiled while Perfuma spoke, waiting for her to finish, but she stopped abruptly. The silence lingered.

Entrapta checked the data pad.

“Hold on, I think there’s a lag. Can you repeat the last part? I missed your explanation.”

“Um.” Scorpia and Perfuma looked at each other.

Clearing her throat, Scorpia said, “It’s uh, basically a big party to celebrate summer. There’s flower crowns and food and music. Perfuma says it’s a lot of fun. I was hoping you, um, might want to come too?”

Entrapta’s hair curled and twisted. “Are a lot of people going to be there?”

“Oh, yes.” Perfuma smiled widely. “People come from all over the region for the festivities. We’re hoping all members of the Princess Alliance—“

“And their partners!” Scorpia added.

“—will be able to attend.”

“Oh.” Her hair knit itself into anxious hands, the psuedo-fingers laced together. “I don’t know....” She looked away, thinking of all the people that would be in attendance. Would it be like the Prom or another formal party? Could she skirt the edges and just observe? (Would that be weird?) On the other hand, they’d specifically called to invite her, and this wasn’t like Princess Prom—they didn’t have to include her at all. Despite her concerns about the crowd, it was hard to pass up what seemed like an obvious overture of friendship. “Can I think about it?”

Scorpia blinked. She looked at Perfuma, scratching the back of her neck. “Um. Sure. Take all the time you need! The party’s in a couple weeks, so you’ve got time.” She smiled. “Hopefully, Mermista will let Hordak take some time off, so he can come too.”

Her hair frizzed. “Hordak’s invited?”

Scorpia nodded. Perfuma looked at Scorpia, who returned her gaze, eyes wide. After a beat of silence, Perfuma said, “Y...yes. If you come, he may...join you. As your guest.”

Entrapta couldn’t help but spin in place, her hair coiling under her to lift her high. She hugged herself, humming giddily. As she dropped back down to the ground, her hair formed a  large cushion to catch her. “Really?!”

Scorpia beamed, and Perfuma exhaled slowly, though she too smiled. “Yes. Really,” Perfuma said. She looked to Scorpia, who offered her the Scorpinoid version of a thumbs up.

“Well, that changes things. I don’t think he’s ever been to something like this before. I’d really like to bring him. He hasn’t had a lot of opportunities to engage in leisure activities, and I’m trying to get him to explore and experiment with activities he might find enjoyable. This seems like an ideal opportunity.”

Perfuma looked at Scorpia again, and Scorpia slung an arm over her shoulders, shaking her gently. “Yep. This would be perfect for that, right Perfuma?”

The other princess smiled, exhaling again. “Right. It’s definitely the perfect opportunity for the former—“

“My former boss!” Scorpia interrupted, “Yep! Perfect—perfect opportunity to see if my former boss can, um, relax.” She blinked, and withdrew her claw from Perfuma’s shoulders to press it against her chin. “Actually, that’s a good question. Can he?”

“In very specific circumstances,” Entrapta said.

Perfuma looked between Scorpia and Entrapta before saying, “As long as he behaves himself.”

Entrapta cocked her head. “I don’t really know what you mean by that; Hordak is very well-mannered.”

Scorpia was already reassuring her, though. “Of course he will! I’m sure we won’t even notice he’s there.”

“Oh, you’ll probably notice him. His height makes him stand out,” Entrapta said. “If that’s going to be a problem, I’m not sure how to fix it.”

“No! Nope—Hordak’s height is not a problem,” Scorpia said very quickly, watching Perfuma. “Well, anyway, I, um, I hope to see both of you soon. Bye!” She hung up before Perfuma could say goodbye. Entrapta didn’t mind. As soon as the communicator cut out, she called Hordak.

His image resolved a moment later. “Hello, Star—“

“Entrapta!”

Hordak’s ears folded back, and he glared at the back of Sea Hawk’s head. “Hi!” she told them both, waving. “I just got a call from Scorpia—“

“Ooh. What did she say?” Sea Hawk asked.

“Well...” She rolled the word around, bouncing a little on her toes. “Plumeria’s going to have a flower festival during the solstice, and we’re both invited to come!”

Sea Hawk’s eyes widened. “You are?”

She nodded, bouncing a little more. “Mmmh-hmm. Scorpia really seems to want us to come. And Perfuma too! Well.” Her hair deflated a little. “I think she was excited? It’s hard to tell.” Perfuma always seemed so nice...until she suddenly wasn’t.

The data pad twirled as Sea Hawk ran off with it. “You have to go—both of you. It will be the perfect setting for romance . What are you you wearing? Wait, don’t tell me right now. I’ll call you later, and we can plan. Don’t worry about Hordak’s wardrobe; I’ll make sure he dresses appropriately.”

She cocked her head. “There’s a dress code? Scorpia didn’t mention that.”

“Oh, yes. A dress code—for love!”

The data pad was snatched from his hands, and Hordak’s face appeared, though he was glaring off-screen at Sea Hawk. “That is enough.” He shook his head, ears back, then he faced the data pad. “My apologies, Starlight. I believe he is being overly optimistic as well as overly involved. Reconstruction will not be complete by the solstice, and I do not believe Mermista will give me to leave to attend—with travel, I would be gone for nearly ten days, and I doubt she would approve of that.”

“What makes you say so?”

“I conquered her country and essentially destroyed Salineas.”

“You think she’s still upset about that?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

His ears twitched. “I will ask, of course.”

“Okay. I mean...” She looked away, running her fingers through her hair. “It’s all right. Maybe next year?”

“Perhaps.”

Off-screen, Sea Hawk yelled, “No! This is unacceptable! I will not stand by and allow such a travesty.”

Hordak looked at him. “You are being dramatic. This is not—“

“A travesty, I say!” The data pad jerked, then the camera lifted high—from the little she could see, Hordak was holding it overhead to keep it out of Sea Hawk’s reach. “How can you stand by and accept this? Are you not a man?”

“I am a clone, and I do not understand why my gender is important to the conversation.”

Sea Hawk made a wordless sound of mourning. “You aren’t willing to fight for your love?”

“There is nothing to fight! The treaty clearly stipulates I must prioritize the restoration of Etheria above my own personal happiness. Considering the destruction I wrought waging a completely senseless war—considering I brought Prime here, to the very doorstep of this world, I think those terms are more than fair! And considering that you yourself fought in both conflicts, I am stunned you are so determined that I break those terms.”

“It’s just ten days!” Sea Hawk said, “Besides, you haven’t taken a day off since you got here and that cannot be healthy.”

Entrapta blinked. “Hordak, is that true?”

As if abruptly remembering she was still there, he turned the data pad so she could see them again, though he was still scrupulously keeping it out of Sea Hawk’s reach. “Well. Yes. I do not require—“

“Hordak! I know you know that taking breaks is important—the Horde soldiers were allowed time off.”

His ears folded back. “Of course they were—Etherians are not very productive if they aren’t permitted unstructured free time periodically. My Force Captains insisted this was true and research seemed to prove them correct. But I am not Etherian. I do not need—“

“That’s ridiculous!” Sea Hawk said, “Everyone needs to take time off.”

“Clones do not. Even when at rest, we were put into stasis pods and our neural networks were used as relay stations for the hivemind.” He cupped a protective hand over the back of his neck, and Entrapta slammed her welding mask down, trying to keep out the thoughts of Prime and what had been done to Hordak and Kadroh and their brethren. Hordak noticed. “It was not that bad—“

“Don’t.” She exhaled slowly, voice shaking. “Don’t minimize what he did.” Through the mask, everything took on a soft teal tone. It made everything feel distant and ethereal, like she was looking at a world encased in glass. The tension in her chest eased, though the pit in her stomach lingered.

“Fine,” Hordak said, his voice soft. “The fact remains—I do not require time off to maintain productivity.”

With her mask on, she could hear her own breathing, steady and strong, and her voice echoed faintly. “Etherians do not regard time off merely as a necessity. It is considered inhumane to force someone to go without for long periods of time.”

“Yes. Because it is a necessity. I understand that—“

“You clearly don’t.”

He shut his eyes and his ears folded back. He exhaled slowly before saying, “I will ask Mermista.”

She lifted her mask a little. “...I just want you to take better care of yourself.”

“I will ask Mermista, but I don’t want you to be disappointed when she says no.”

“If she says no, then I’m coming over there. And we’ll go to the beach. And get ice cream. And maybe go swimming, if the salt water won’t damage your ports.”

His ears twitched, and his features softened. “Though I am uncertain of the swimming, I would otherwise be amenable to that.”

“Okay. Promise?”

His mouth twitched a little. “If it pleases you, then yes; I promise.”

She pushed the welding mask up the rest of the way. “Excellent. I’ll speak to you later, then. Unless there’s something else?”

“Nothing for now. Goodbye, Starlight. We will speak soon.”

Sea Hawk waved. “Bye, Entrapta! Never fear—I will use my masculine wiles to seduce my lady love, and convince her to release your...um—to release Hordak to you!” Hordak shut his eyes, and though it looked like Sea Hawk had more to say, the feed suddenly cut out.

Entrapta smiled to herself and resumed working on the prototype.

-

The next morning, a robot delivered a small package with her breakfast. Seeing that it was from Salineas, she made a high-pitched, happy sound and tore it open. Inside, she was surprised to find several sea shells, along with a note that merely said, “The shells are for Kadroh.” Among the shells, she found a data chip that was surely for her.

With a happy hum, she plucked the chip from the package and set the box aside, attaching the chip to her pad to see what he’d sent. It contained two files. One was her research notes. The other was her procedure proposal for their Intimacy Log. Seeing that, she had to get up, pacing and using her hair to flip and twist as she completed a circuit of her suite of rooms—her excitement simply couldn’t be contained, though she cautioned herself aloud, trying to minimize her expectations. After completing a third circuit, she finally felt settled enough to actually read what he’d sent. “Okay. Okay. Let’s do this!”  She shook out her hands and settled back on the bed, opening her proposal.

She smiled a little, reading his notes. She wished he was here; she would have loved to demonstrate how she would ‘reward him for good behavior’—and to test out the newly revealed sensitive spot behind his ears. In fact, she could demonstrate the former by showing him how much she appreciated his willingness to reveal the latter to her. She hummed again, reading his response to her question about biting. It wasn’t a ‘no’, and she was eager to see what he might mean by a “strong reaction”, though she would wait until he was ready for such a step, of course.

Then she saw the short paragraph he’d written at the end.

‘I do not think it would be wise to extend your study to my genitals at this time. I have limited knowledge of them myself; I’m not even sure if I am capable of penetrative sex, though I understand that is not necessarily a requirement. I know enough to be certain that my genitals differ from all standard Etherian configurations. I would not want to subject you to anything unusual or surprising without forewarning. For this reason, it would likely be best if I were to conduct some private research first, then we will discuss the possibility of mutual study.’

She leapt to her feet, using her hair to guide herself through a midair somersault. She began pacing her rooms again, punctuating her circuit with various acrobatics and occasionally humming to herself when her thoughts grew too loud.  She fumbled for her recorder, talking fast as she said, “Intimacy Log, personal notes, number 12. This is so fascinating! Hordak has revealed that his genitals are not Etherian in nature—which is unsurprising—and that he has limited knowledge of their form or function.” Something unpleasant itched at the back of her mind, but she just started to pace faster, burying those thoughts.

“I cannot begin to speculate on either. I have every reason to believe Hordak is what we would classify as a mammal—the presence of nipples implies his species at one time nursed their young, and he is quite warm, suggesting he does not have to rely on external heat sources to maintain his body temperature—but he is still an alien. These mammalian traits may be evidence of convergent evolution, rather than a common ancestor, though I still believe the bipedal body type suggests that our species are not entirely unrelated. Nonetheless, none of that necessarily implies so-called ‘sexual compatibility’. Hordak already seems to know that penetrative sex is not a necessity for a sexual relationship, but I will also endeavor to reassure him that our genitals do not need to be ‘compatible’ for sex to be satisfying. I should also relay that I am not put off by his confession. If anything, I am excited by the opportunity for discovery!”

She performed another somersault, shaking out her hands as she landed. “This is so exciting!” she hissed under her breath. To the recorder, she added, “He’s said that he would like to experiment on his own so as to avoid surprising me, but I would be very interested in experimenting with him. Query—has Hordak decided to experiment solo primarily out of concern for my comfort or his own? If the former, then he may allow me to at least witness any experiments he performs on himself—though I would welcome a more hands on approach, if he is willing to wait. However, if he is uncomfortable including me because...”

The unpleasant thoughts managed to break through, and she pulled her mask down securely. “While it is possible Hordak wants to experiment on his own in order to sate his curiosity in private—which would be completely understandable—I believe it is more likely that he’s uncomfortable sharing this with me due to shame and prior conditioning from Horde Prime, a suspicion reinforced by his lack of education regarding his own body’s sexual organs.” She flexed her hands, hair coiling around her limbs. “If that is the case, then I am unsure how to proceed. Hordak’s health, safety, and comfort are of primary importance, and I’m worried I’m not well equipped to make sure he isn’t harmed by our experiments. I’ve...never been good with people.” 

She shut off the recorder and cycled through her mask’s filters, trying to find a more soothing way of looking at the world. She settled on infrared, gazing at the smear of colors meant to represent variations in temperature. It was comfortably alien, and pleasing to place her hands on the metal wall and watch the colors change—like painting with her own body heat. She traced patterns on the wall and watched them fade as the transferred heat dissipated.

She took a breath and raised her mask when she felt settled enough to proceed, blinking as she readjusted to her surroundings. Clicking the recorder on, she said, “Hordak has consistently proven himself to be unlike anyone I’ve ever known. He seems to understand and respect my need for clear communication. Thus far, we have been able to prevent the kinds of misunderstandings I’ve had in the past simply by talking to each other. I have to assume I can keep him from coming to harm in the same fashion. When we next speak, I will—“  Her data pad signaled an incoming call. “Oh!” She clicked the recorder off, assuming that was him. “Hi, Hordak—wait. Sea Hawk?”

“Greetings, Princess!”

“Hi! Do you need something?”

“No. Not...not exactly.”

“Are you sure? People don’t usually call me unless they need something.”

“I don’t need anything, I just.” He winced. “I...may have...possibly...slightly overestimated my ability to convince my beloved to allow Hordak time off. And...vastly underestimated her vindictiveness.” His gaze grew watery and distant. “She is as magnificent and unforgiving as the sea.”

“Oh. Well, that’s okay. At least you tried. I’ll just—“

Sea Hawk held up a hand, shushing her. “Entrapta. Are you in a secure location?”

She glanced around her bedroom. “I suppose so.”

“Good, good. Now, tell me...how far are you willing to go to prove your devotion?”

She blinked. “What?”

“Do you want to take Hordak to Plumeria?”

“Well, yes—“

“How far are you willing to go to get him there?”

“What?”

He moaned, as if in pain. Before she could ask if he was okay, he leaned close to the camera and said, “Listen to me. I have a plan to get both you and Hordak safely and happily to Plumeria. But it may possibly be slightly illegal.” Entrapta cocked her head. “And by ‘slightly’, I mean ‘extremely’. So, how far are you willing to go to prove your affections?”

She snorted. “Sea Hawk, don’t be ridiculous; at least three of my current experiments are technically illegal. Breaking a few laws won’t prove anything. With that said—what’s your plan?”

“Well—wait. Technically illegal?”

She gestured dismissively. “Mystacor isn’t really equipped to oversee scientific studies, but my experiments are technically overseen by their ethics committee. Which is guided by a woefully outdated moral system and staffed by technophobes. I stopped asking them to approve my more interesting studies ages ago.”

“Oh. Well. I’m going to assume that’s not at all nefarious—“

“I guess that would depend on your definition.”

“—and tell you my incredible, masterful plan! First—do you by any chance own any strappy high heels? A low cut dress, perhaps? Preferably in black.”

“What?”

“Never mind! We can continue without, but I feel that ignoring the aesthetic shows a lack of commitment.”

She stared at him. “What?”

-

A/N: As always, I’m extremely grateful for all the comments you guys leave. I read them all, often multiple times. I’m not good about replying, but I am always intensely grateful.Thank you so much. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. ^//^

[writeyouin]

Hello! I was reading some of your transformers x reader and i enjoyed them way too much, i wondering if i could please request some poly combaticons x reader fluffiness??

Poly-Combaticons X Reader - Hostage

A/N – Yoga is harder than I thought. Man, I am like the least flexible person ever.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Swindle vented air loudly through his systems, sighing boredly. Just like the other Combaticons, he was tired of being left behind on missions. It was almost like Megatron didn’t trust them, which was crazy, because it was he who had ordered their rescue from imprisonment, right? At least, that’s what he had told them on Cybertron after he had reprogrammed them to only follow his orders; none of the Combaticons would ever know any different.

“Where’s Vortex?” He asked, hoping that the insane bot might be good for a laugh.

“Probably off causing trouble,” Blast Off replied, checking himself out in the shiniest part of the chrome wall.

Onslaught hummed, making some notes after examining a slide under the microscope, “As long as I have some peace to finish my experiments for Lord Megatron, does it really matter where Vortex is?”

“GUYS, GUYS,” Vortex called out excitedly, running in. “YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED!”

Onslaught cursed his luck, knowing he would never finish his project with Vortex yelling like that.

“WHAT IS IT?!” Brawl roared huffily, eager to pick a fight with just about anyone that happened to be nearby, if it would distract him from his boredom.

“ORDERS FROM MEGATRON. GOOD ONES. REALLY, REALLY GOOD ONES. ALMOST AS GOOD AS BEING ATTACKED.”

None of them really understood why Vortex loved surprise attacks so much, but they at least understood his frame of reference for excitement.

“Megatron’s back?” Onslaught asked, thinking of his unfinished project.

“NO, BUT HE SENT LASERBEAK BACK WITH SOME ORDERS.”

“What’ve you got for us?” Swindle asked, already coming up with a scam that would make the others do his work for him if he didn’t like the job.

“There’s a human hostage in the holding cells. Megatron said we must not let the Autobots take it back at any cost.”

“A human?” Blast Off actually managed to look away from his reflection for a while. “That could be interesting, I suppose.”

“UGH!” Brawl exclaimed exasperatedly. “WHAT GOOD IS A HOSTAGE THAT YOU CAN’T FIGHT. I WANT A REALLY GOOD SCRAP.”

“Come on,” Onslaught said, leading the way to the holding cells; at the very least, he might get some interesting research done on human physiology and behaviour. At Onslaught’s word, they all headed down to see the prisoner, hoping to alleviate some boredom, if nothing else.

None of them knew what to expect since you were the first human they had seen outside of TV. As such, once they all got to the door, it was decided they shouldn’t alert you to their presence until they were sure of how best to guard you; that decision greatly annoyed Brawl who never hid from anything.

“Wow…” Blast Off whispered, “(S)he looks so…sad.”

The five bots fell silent, frowning as they each thought about their millions of years imprisoned with no hope of escape; it was torturous. No doubt, you were also suffering with nobody to talk to and no stimulus to keep you entertained. At least when the Combaticons were bored, they had each other to talk to; this just seemed cruel. Even Brawl was uncharacteristically quiet, thinking about the painful years of solitude in which nobody even spared him a thought.

Vortex stayed as quiet as he could for as long as he could, totalling a record time of two minutes and ten seconds of silence. After that, he bounced on into the room, “Hey human, how are you? Are you bored? I bet you’re bored; I would be bored in there.”

Onslaught and Blast Off face-palmed, while Swindle watched snickering, and Brawl rolled his optics at his team-mate’s stupidity.

You stood up upon seeing the Decepticon enter the room. He was one you had never seen before on any of your missions with the Autobots and you wondered what his personality was like compared to the other Decepticons.

“Hello,” You greeted openly.

“Hey,” Vortex beamed, surprised you weren’t like the other humans the Decepticons had discussed in front of the Combaticons; he had only ever heard Starscream saying how they were frightened of everything, including their own shadows.

“Are you new?” You asked, your curiosity outweighing your sense of danger as it always did. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“Me, new? That’s crazy,” Vortex guffawed. “I’m super old. You’re the new one.”

You chuckled, “Yes, I guess I am.”

“GUYS, GET IN HERE, IT’S FRIENDLY, AND FUNNY TOO.”

You watched the door as three other bots sheepishly made their way in, the fourth stomped in grumpily, making sure to make a lot of noise.

“Oh, are these your friends?”

It was Onslaught who answered, “We’re his team.”

“Yeah,” Blast Off laughed, “I’m the handsome one.”

You smiled, noticing they weren’t like the other Decepticons; at least these five talked to you. “And do you have a name or am I stuck calling you handsome?”

“I’m Blast Off, our fearless leader here is called Onslaught. This glitch-head is Vortex,” Vortex pointed to himself proudly, despite the insult. “This is-”

“I’m Swindle,” The bot replied, winking at you. “You need something, you come to me first. I can talk my way outta anything and everything.”

“And last but not least is Brawl.”

“AND I’M OUTTA HERE,” Brawl huffed, still wanting something to fight.

“Ah,” You smiled knowingly.

“WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?” Brawl demanded, hitting the bars of your cage.

“Hey, I meant nothing bad by it. I could just tell by your cool attitude that you’re the strong one of the group. Man, I bet you could take anyone in a fight.”

“Heh,” Brawl guffawed bashfully. “If you think I look strong now, you should see my alt-mode.” With that he transformed into a tank, showing off his bulk and strength by blasting a hole in the ceiling.

You couldn’t help but smiling at the display Brawl put on just for you. Soon enough, all the Combaticons were competing for your attention, turning into their various alt-modes and asking whose was best. Even the level-headed Onslaught couldn’t help admiring your tactful answers as you said what you liked best about each member of his unit, including himself.

There was no doubt that the five would have stayed and talked your ears off forever, had you not eventually fallen asleep. Watching you slumber so peacefully, sure they had put the smile on your face, each of the Combaticons felt joy warm their cores. In just one day you had become so precious to them and all because you listened to them more than any other Cybertronian ever had.

“Let us all admit that we are feeling the same thing for this organic,” Onslaught whispered, resting his helm against the bars of your cage.

The other bots murmured in agreement.

“Then let’s bust her out,” Brawl growled. “We have more than enough firepower to do it.”

“Yeah,” Blast Off agreed, “And nobody could look as good doing it as we could.”

Vortex started shaking excitedly, “Oooh, I sense a prison break coming on, just like the human movie, Impossible Mission.”

“It was Mission Impossible, you dolt.”

Onslaught sighed, “You’re forgetting that we’ve got direct orders from Megatron to make sure (s)he doesn’t escape.”

“Do we though?” Swindle asked mischievously. “As far as I’m aware, our orders were to ‘make sure the Autobots don’t take her at any cost.’ I don’t see any Autobots here, do you?”

Onslaught considered that momentarily; Swindle really could find a loophole in anything. “Well…as long as we are all in agreement.”

As if in response, the team started their combined transformation into Bruticus, leaving room for Onslaught to join in. He did so happily, feeling the freedom and power that came with combining.

“Bruticus rescue (Y/N),” The now giant bot said monosyllabically. “(Y/N) belongs to Bruticus now.”

You had long since gotten over the shock of being kidnapped for the second time that day; it helped that your new-found captor was actually the five Combaticons you had met earlier that night. All the same, you weren’t sure what was going to happen next and it seemed that Bruticus didn’t either.

“So,” You wondered how to broach your next question, “Where do we go from here?”

Bruticus shrugged his shoulders, then lowered his servo to let you down onto the beach shore. “Bruticus don’t know. What human want to do?”

“I- Hmm… I’d like to thank you for the heroic rescue.”

Bruticus’ fans started blasting in what you had come to know as a Cybertronian blush.

“And I would like to invite you to come and visit me in my home whenever you want… even though we’re really far away from it right now.”

“Not far for Bruticus. I can take you home right now.”

“Really?” You half laughed. “You would do that for me?”

“Yes, Bruticus like new friend.”

You weren’t sure how to react to that. To be perfectly honest, you were wondering exactly what you had said or done to make the Combaticons like you so quickly. If you could make the other Decepticons like you just as much then maybe you could make life a lot easier for the Autobots in the process. Either way, you were glad you weren’t a hostage anymore, though you still had no idea quite how enamoured the Combaticons had become with you in just one night. Humans had a word for how the Combaticons felt about you; they were smitten.

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[cookie-cutter-communications]

The world became no more than a blur for the thief, who simply thrashed about in Borg’s grip. And, though it was a fruitless effort, they did attempt to get the mitten off from around their neck. “L-Let me go!!!” Well, that was surely different... A cry of fright? “They...They’re going to fix me, leave me be!!! I will not succumb to you!” “...Huh? I already told you that they can’t do th-” “They will! Th-They will, if not Aloe, then the rest of them will! G-Get off!!!” Their eyes aimlessly shot about, trying to make sense of this...anomaly. This was...This was incorrect, again, again, it was incorrect!!! “Your nonsense knows no bounds, doesn’t it???” “Eh, consider it something I picked up.” The half-bot muttered. “If I let you go, you will stay here, okay?” “I’m not supposed to listen to anyone, let alone someone as childish as yourse-” “Do you want a limb blasted off or not?!” And they were lucky the new face was shut up on the spot with what was no more than a bluff. A shiver was sent through the taller figure, clearly in a panic about this. “Look,” Borg continued with a huff, “It’s not gonna be that bad. Yeah, you’re the first one that’s broken free other than me! And it probably seems uber scary, but!! That’s okay!!!” “How is it okay?? You could be put through terrible pain at any given moment!” “And that’s why you have to do...different stuff! The dummies around here are predi...uh... shallow minded, and you kinda were too! I mean...why would you come back to the same place 20 times...?” Such a question made the captive thief squint at Borg, and they couldn’t help but giggle. “You look kinda funny when you do that...” “I’m not the type for humor.” “Welllll!!! Now you are, congra-...tulaton......grtal...Good for you!!!” “I hope you know that’s not how it wo-” “ANYWAYS!!! You!!! You. You! You? You. You should really take the offer if you don’t wanna get hurt.” “What a one-sided deal...” “I can make it more than one-sided if you would actually listen instead of turning everything down...uh...uhhhhh.....oh, that’s not my memory being bad, I really didn’t ask you for your name! Soooo, what’s you-” “Roguefort.” “Oh! Answered my question for me! Neat, husks don’t normally do that, R-...uh...Rogf.....gfo....” “It’s Roguefort.” “Roge.....fuck.” “That’s not how you pronounce it.” “Then....I’ll give you a nickname!! Sometime, I think! Woah, I think!” They giggled at their own stupidity, thinking of something to call them that wasn’t as taxing to try and speak. “Uhhhhhh, how about Roguey? Seems neat!” “I-” “Cool, that’s your nickname now! I’m Cyborg, by the way!” “You didn’t even let me finish...” “Mm, doesn’t matter now! What matters is that you’re not resisting me, which means you don’t mind people that think!” “I mind it very much, but resisting you would be a bit of a death wish, now wouldn’t it?” “Hahaha, you bet! Now, you can get up! Remember, if you run, you will not get far!” 

Slowly, the mitten was removed from the phantom’s neck. Slowly, they would pick themself back up, the events transpiring shortly before having knocked the wind right out of them. “What are you planning to do as a means to ruin my name further?” “Oh, a lot of things!!! A lot, I tell you!!! Because your head is a mile thick and still husky as can be, I’m gonna take you somewhere to steal things!” “A place of fine arts, I presume?” “What? No! Those weird pictures are stupid and invaluable compared to what you could be stealing instead.” “I’m not following. I’m supposed to answer to calls of theft for that, and that alone.” “Don’t you get it?! You don’t have to do what you’re....supposed to!” Once that was said, there was a scoff from Roguefort, folding their arms and glancing away. “Oh, come on!!! It’ll be fun!!!” “I’m not going wherever you think you’ll take me, Cyborg.” “Y-yes you will!” “Pfft, you have no means to force me.” And, like that, an arm grabbed them around the waist and held on tight, Borg’s boots lighting up once more. “A-Ah...?” “I guess you haven’t learned much about me, Rougey!! I like going fast, so you better hope you don’t fall off!!” And there they went, the new acquaintance forced to cling to the smaller. ... It wouldn’t be long before the semi-organic being to find someplace, landing right in front of a fancy looking museum...full of glittering gems. “Aaaaand, we’re here!!!” “But it’s past midnight, I cannot take anything past that ti-” “Shhhshshshshshshshhhhh!!!! Shut!!!! Shut. We’re gonna go in there and take whatever’s in there that looks neat!” “W-We are not! You can, if you’d like!” And, as if they didn’t even hear what the thief had said, Borg had already busted a window out! “We are going in!!! No ifs, ands, or buts!!!” And like that, they would drag the other in.

Within the dim lights that creeped in from the windows, the gems cast in deep navy hues still retained some of the shine that they had in broad daylight. Soft glints of the rainbow would seep out just as much, and yet... it failed to attract Roguefort’s gaze. There was a huff from the metallic one, glancing around.  “Why won’t you take any of this?” “I’m not supposed to.” “But doesn’t it look nice?” “...That is not for me to discern.” “UGH!! Stop being so...husk-y!” They would’ve thrown their hands up in the air in frustration, but their blaster arm hit a glass casing, shattering it at once. It made the thief perk up, their gaze darting to the loud noise. Seeing the glass falling to pieces, they remained motionless until all was still again. Borg glanced at the open case, taking what was inside. Not like themself, so it was just another thing to add to the list!!  “See? It’s neat! And they all look nice, as well!” They held one of the gems in their mitten, offering it to the phantom, only to realize they had already turned away. Well... If they were going to be so stubborn, they would remain here! They would remain until Roguefort took something of value!! And until then, the half-bot would indulge in breaking whatever they could! One, after another, after another, again, again!!! So many loud noises that got the taller to at least look at all there was. So much destruction, so much to gain, and... and yet, they couldn’t!! They couldn’t just take any of them...could they?

Yet, at one particular encasement, they couldn’t carry themself another step without gazing through it, straight at the tiny...tiny rocks. So insignificant, yet... They still felt drawn in...why?  “Gems are a lot more expensive than paintings, Y’know...” The suddenness of Borg’s voice startled them, a soft “eep” garnered from them. “Ah...they are?” “Always have been!” They giggled, gently pushing the thief towards the glass. “Look at them!! I told you, they’re so neat!!! Wouldn’t you like some?” “They...They’re not art.” “Yeah they are! Someone had to take the time to cut them properly so they look like teenie pieces of art! The rarity of them just makes them that much more valuable! It’s not that bad of a thing to take, huh?” Borg watched the phantom simply stare at what was before them...conflicted. This... This couldn’t be correct...but then...why did they have such an urge to take them...?? Roguefort felt themself tense up, clenching a hand into a fist. There...There was no reason for them to have such conflicting thoughts, so why...? “Are you certain they’re art?” “Mhm!! Yep! But!!! You need to learn to do things only if you like it enough! If you don’t... you’ll never truly know what fun is!” “Fun...?” What a childish way to phrase it, but... yet... it was that concept that allowed them to reel that arm back, and in a fluid motion, shattered the glass into thousands of glittering shards, their eyes glued to how pretty the scene before them looked... and the fact their hand trembled as they registered the wounds opened from the just as equally sharp objects. H-Hah...such pain was something they’ve never felt... it made them feel oddly alive... “Rougey? Are you alright?” “...I’m just fine, a few scrapes would never hurt a thief.” And, with the smallest of smiles, several jewels would slip right into Fort’s hands.

[steves-on-a-plane]

Run. (Part 8)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven /

 Words: 1705 Pairing: Tony Stark & Reader   Timeline: The Avengers: Age Of Ultron [2015]   Other Info: Run AU     Summary: In the aftermath of Ultron’s attack, Reader gives her harebrained husband a piece of her mind before joining the rest of the team in the lab for the next plan.

April 2015

In one moment, there was shattering glass and gun shots and in the next instant, silence. You waited still not knowing if the winning team had been your own. Your song and daughter were each clinging to you closely. They were waiting on you for what to do now. Then there was the frantic stomp of footsteps on the stairs and running up the balcony. Then the door to Eddie’s room burst open and all three of you screamed.

“Guys it’s okay. It’s me! It’s Dad.” Tony panted. He was griping the doorknob tight. His expression switched between relief, worry and regret in rapid succession.

“See,” You said kissing Serina on the head and then Eddie. “I told you, nothing to worry about. So, let’s get everyone to bed okay?” With Tony’s help you got Eddie all tucked back into bed while Serina hovered by the doorway watching you. You turned Eddie’s dinosaur nightlight on before turning off the main light and ushering Tony and Serina outside.

“Holy shit!” Serina exclaimed as she looked over the balcony. The rest of the team was still there. Somewhere examining the damage that had been done. Steve and Maria were off to one side conversing with their heads tucked down low. No doubt discussing your husband and his reckless actions. The tower had suffered, but physically everyone was fine. That was the important thing. Windows, walls, tables all of that could be replaced. You were just lucking nothing more serious had happened. At your daughter’s exclamation, anyone close enough to have heard her looked up.

“Someone said a bad word, Cap, you heard her.” Tony, as he was known to do when he was nervous, cracked a joke. But as he took in the glares around the room he walked the statement back. “Right, not the time.” You placed an arm around your daughter but she shrugged you off.

“I can find my own way to my room.” She snapped before stomping off. That left you and Tony free to descend the steps into the lion’s den.

“What the hell were you thinking?” You hissed as you started walking down the stairs.

“I was thinking about them.” Tony quipped back. “I want them to live in a world where they don’t have to worry about alien invasions and killer robots.”

“You’re the only one creating killer robots!” You argued. You’d reached the bottom of the stairs. You walked past Maria and Steve and towards Bruce.

“You!” You growled at Banner. “He couldn’t have done this on his own! And I get that he can’t see past his own nose when he gets an idea in his head, but you’re supposed to be the levelheaded one! You’re supposed to have this world-renowned control! We had an agreement you and I!” Tony placed a hand on your shoulder trying to hold you back as you continued to charge at Banner. You noticed Natasha step up to Bruce’s side so that she was standing just in front of him.

“Sweetheart, maybe we don’t go charging at the man who can turn into a giant green monster, okay?” He suggested quietly.

“Oh! Oh! You want me to listen to you about what’s safe?” You rounded on him, raising your voice this time. “So just to be clear yelling at Banner is off the table, but the two of you making a killer AI who destroys my home and puts my kids in danger, that’s okay?”

“They’re my kids too, [Y/N].” Tony said quietly.

“Why don’t we give everyone a minute.” Steve suggested trying to draw some attention away from you and Tony. “Take some time to assess the damage, clean wounds, change clothes. We’ll meet back here in a half an hour. Banner, Stark, figure out what the hell happened here. Romanoff, Barton, work with them, see what systems if any were compromised.”

“They’re my kids too, damn it.” Tony mumbled again before going walking off to his lab. You sighed and followed after him.

“Tony.” You called out to him quietly, standing just outside the door to the lab. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked him.

“You know why.” Tony scoffed, his back turned to you. He shuffled through mangled Iron Legionnaire parts as he tried to make his way over to the computer. You took a few steps inside and watch him and Bruce working.

“Because I would have tried to stop you?” You guessed.

“Yes, because you would have tried to stop me.”  Tony slammed his fist on the desk. “And you know what?” He turned on his heels. “I would have listened to you! Because I would do anything for you. All you’d ever have to do is ask, and I’d give it to you. But this, this was important!”

“All our work is gone.” Bruce interjected, looking up from his own computer. “Ultron cleared everything out and used the internet as an escape hatch.” Natasha, Clint and Steve entered the lab. The two experienced agents stomped into the room; their faces were expressionless masks. Steve on the other hand had both of his arms folded over his chest. It was the first time you’d ever seen the captain look angry. You didn’t know he had it in him.

“He’s been in everything.” Natasha huffed. “Files, surveillance. Probably knows more about us than we know about each other.”

“He’s in the files, he’s in the internet. What if he decides to access something a little more exciting?” Rhodey asked as he and Maria joined you in the lab.

“Nuclear codes?” Maria asked worriedly.

“Nuclear codes!” Rhodey nodded solemnly as he massaged his shoulder that must have been injured in the flight. “Look, we need to make some calls. Assuming that we still can.”

“Nukes?” Natasha shook her head. “He said he wanted us dead.”

“He. Didn’t say dead.” Steve disagreed. “He said extinct.”

“He also said he killed somebody.” Clint remembered.

“There wasn’t anyone else in the building, the kids are fine right, [Y/N]?” Maria asked. You nodded wordlessly.

“Yes, there was.” Tony tapped a few buttons on his keyboard and a holographic image appeared in the center of the lab. You recognized the glowing golden-orange ball despite it being broken and decayed.

“JARVIS.” You sighed.

“JARVIS was the first line of defense.” Steve frowned. “He would have shut Ultron down. It makes sense.”  

Thor was the last to come charging into the room. He brushed past you and Steve and everyone else and straight towards your husband. He grabbed Tony by the throat and hoisted him in the air.

“Woah, Woah…” Steve tried to jump in to stop him, but Thor paid him no attention.

“Come on, use your words, buddy!” Tony commented as she struggled to breath.

“I have more than enough words to describe you, Stark.” Thor huffed. He released his hold on Tony, who landed on his feet.  

“Now we must retrieve the scepter, again.” He complained.

“Genie’s out of that bottle.” Natasha disagreed. “Clear and present is Ultron.”

“Well if no one else is going to ask, I will.” You announced. “You two built this program. Why is it trying to kill you?” Instead of answering you, Tony just started to laugh.

“You think this is funny?” Thor questioned. He very clearly did not find the situation funny.

“No, it’s probably not. Right?” He looked over and you and then around the room at the others. “This is really terrible? Is it so…” He laughed again. “Is it so terrible?”

“This could have been avoided if you hadn’t played with something you don’t understand.” Thor chastised him.

“No.” Tony interrupted him; his tone suddenly very serious. “I’m sorry, it is funny. It’s a hoot that you don’t get why we need this!”

“Tony, maybe this might not be the time…” Bruce warned him cautiously.

“Really?” Tony hissed. “That’s it? You just roll over, show your belly? Every time somebody snarls?”

“Only when I’ve created a murder bot.” Bruce countered.

“We didn’t.” Tony insisted. “We weren’t even close. Were we close to an interface?”

“Well you did something right.” Steve sighed. “And you did it right here. The Avengers were supposed to be different than SHIELD.”

“Anybody remember when I carried a nuke through a wormhole?” Tony asked the room at large.

“Nope, it’s never come up.” Rhodey commented sarcastically and shook his head. Around the room the others averted their gaze or rolled their eyes. Everyone except you and Rhodey who had better practice at listening to Tony’s grandiose ‘here’s why I’m right’ speeches.

“Saved New York? Anyone recall that?” Tony continued to poll his audience. You looked at Rhodey and he looked at you. Neither of you would be able to reign Tony in from his soap box.  “A hostile alien army came charging through a hole in space. We’re standing 300 feet below it. We’re the Avengers. We can bust arms dealers all the livelong day, but that up there,” He pointed up at the ceiling. “That’s the endgame. How were you guys planning on beating that?”

“Together.” Steve answered, not caring if the question was rhetorical.

“We’ll lose.” Tony shook his head.

“Then we’ll do that together too.” Steve assured him. “Thor’s right. Ultron’s called us out. I’d like to find him before he’s ready for us.” He added loud enough for the rest of the team to hear. “The world’s a big place, let’s start making it smaller.”

“How can I help, Cap?” You asked Steve.

“No, no,” Tony shook his head. “Absolutely not. I don’t want you involved.”

“You involved me when you brought your work home with you, literally.” You snapped at him. “And I wasn’t asking you, I was asking Steve.” You looked back at the captain and waited for his answer.

“If Ultron’s been in our files,” Steve sighed, scratching his head. “We might have to go old school. We could use some help bringing up old SHIELD files from the basement.”

“I’m on it.” You saluted the Captain and left the lab. You were almost at the elevator when you got a text from your husband.

Run?

Absolutely not. You texted back furiously. You made this mess, you clean it up.

[proxyartsblog]

Fallout Equestria ( Country Roads)

By proxyart.

{The introduction}

(68 years after the mega spells)

(A group of Caravan ponies and a group of Talons sit around a campfire in the forest of  West Virgineigh in the shadow the the stable 76 ruins .  It's cold out and the two groups sit making small talk and trading stories. After a while a pony started to notice a odd member of the talon group)

A shy young blue unicorn spoke up , she had a soft timid voice. "um m..mr Griffin... how ... uh no um why is... your back legs different from the other Griffins?" Her ears dropped as he looked Over at her.

"I'm a hippogriff" said the smooth looking avian, he was quite pretty, with his lovely golden feathers and creamy tan coat , he spoke with a unique accent, something from the old world the blue unicorn thought.

"F..forgive me but a what?" She said with a puzzled shakey voice.

(He smiled and sat up.)

"A hippogriff my dear filly" the smooth voice said, he spoke like a pony, " you don't know do you? " he asked.

(The blue unicorn shook her head.)

" no sorry I'm not aware of Griffins or anything to do with the talons " she blushes brightly noticing them stare.

(The hippogriff's beak gives a friendly smile as he steps into the fire light.)

"My name is Apple Gin, and I am not a normal creature, no matter how you look at it, I'm the descend of a earth pony who throw out all odds service the mega spells and fell in love with a Griffin , from her and their love my mother was born , my mother was a miracle my grandfather said, a foal that shouldn't exist but somehow did."

(Apple Gin saw the curiosity growing in the eyes of the young filly.)

"You want to know more don't you? " he asked with a croaked smile.

(The blue unicorn nodded happily, no longer the shy blue filly she was , this girl got closer to hear every word he spoke. )

"Please tell me what happened?!" The filly gidded as she clopped her hoofs excitedly.

Apple Gin sighed and sat back on his haunches. " so you want to know the story of my ancestor the the legendary stable 76? "  he asked.

She smiled sweetly and nodded " yes!" She paused for a moment  "I mean yes please mr. Gin sir"

Apple Gin gave her a odd look and sighed happily, " Gin is fine... so where to start this story? ... it's a long one to tell "

(The blue pony thought for a moment then with a smile.)

"I got all night... better then dealing with them swamp crawlers or mega beasts... right Gin ?"

(Apple Gin smiled )

"Yes ma'am " he started to tell his grandmother's story.

"To tell this tale we must start off 25 years after the war... 25 years after the mega spells dropped and all of equestria was plunged Into Darkness".

(War ... war never changes.... )

[End holotape prologue. ]

☆◇♧♡♤☆◇♧♡♤☆◇♡♧♤☆

[Chapter one] country roads.

[Memory orb holotape begin]

(A song started to play over the PA system of the stable, followed by a older mare's voice)

(A inebriated orange and creamy caramel colored earth pony falls out of her bed woken by the loudly playing music and that mare's voice, she looked around her stable room and realized it was very quiet, too quiet, there was a huge party just yesterday, and today was her 25th birthday, the day she was also supposed to leave the stable as well.)

"Shit... ouch my head, I swear one day I'll stop drinking " she always said it but she never has, after all she owed her cutie mark to alcohol, all the members of her father's family did, it was a family tradition and Apple whiskey wasn't going to be the pony to end a family tradition!

(She looked at goodmorning stable-tec window with its happy  little birds and smiling sun, the stable colt smiled back at her reminding her she was late. )

"Good morning stable 76, this is the Overmare , I hope you all enjoyed the party last night, even those who might have over overindulged and overslept. But it's time to get up and get out there, we've been locked away long enough."

(She listened to the Overmare speech as she brushed her teeth and combed her mane, it didn't do anything to help, her mane and tail was a knotted mess of curls and knots, she had tried to keep her hair nice but since mother died Whiskey had a hard time with managing it.)

"Stupid mane... ouch! How am I supposed to brush this mess if I'm not a unicorn!?" She yelled frustrated by her lack of magic or her mothers hair dresser bot.

(Her mother was a robotics engineer, the best in equestria or so others told her. The stable was full of the best and brightest members of equestria and many of the ponies onces worked for stable-tec or rob-co, some were doctors and musicians, others were bankers, scientist, farmers, painters, chefs and more, if they were the best they were in 76!, and the offspring, the children of the generation of genius ponies? Why they were told daily that they were going to save equestria... and the world, that day was today... and Apple wasn't running to the stable door like the others had.)

(A robot brought Apple whiskey her pipbuck, it had a big 76 Pip‑buck 2000 in blue and silver numbers on it with the ugly brown and tan pipbuck casing , Apple placed it on her fetlock and began to adjust to it's weight, Apple thought her pipbuck was very ugly and useless, all she ever used it for was the radio and keeping track of other ponies. )

"Stupid heavy thing..." said Apple.

"Oh miss Apple I thought you'd never wake up" said the floating mr. Handy.

(The over mare's voice pulsed for a moment or two then continued )

"Today is Reclamation day, I kn..."( the voice was drowned out for a bit.)

"What? Why? " Apple whiskey asked.

"Why its Reclamation day don't you remember? Most of the stable is already gone ." Said the robot.

"All ready gone?! But its only..." Apple looked at the time. " Half past noon! How could you let me over sleep so long!?" She started to ran to get her stuff packed .

( the Overmare's voice started again)

"It maybe time to leave but I'll always remember the day you all entered stable 76, you come from everywhere walk of life, every pony race, color and creed, but you all share one very important trait, you are equestrias best and brightest but more importantly you will always be my family."

(The broadcast ended)

"Wow Overmare ... I wonder if the old mare is still here? ... would make sense that the Overmare would be last to leave right?" Apple got all the things she wanted to take with her.

(Apple whiskey packed a large saddlebag with 5 bottles of purified water, 3 stem packs, 2 boxes of big-mac and cheese, 1 picture of her parents, a hoof pistol and a hoof full of bullets,  2 Med-X , 2 healing potions, 1 sparkle cola cherry and 4 bottles of her famous Apple whiskey and the recipe so no one else could make it .)

"Miss Apple you mustn't forget about you're camp " said the Mr handy.

"My camp? What is that? ... you mean my still bot? " Apple asked.

(The Mr. handy looked insulted by her calling that metal pot a robot)

"No miss apple not that busted excuse for bolts.... the camp unit is you're home away from home miss... " he handed her the rather small box .

"This is a camp?" She looked complex.

"You need a home base out there. The Construction and Assembly Mobile Platform is designed to give you one." Said the handy.

"So this will help me serve? Good to know... uh ok " Apple took the camp and stored it in her saddlebags.

"Wow it fits a lot... one day I'll learn how it carries all my junk..." she was impressed by the bags, she thought it had to be part of the stable-tec spell Matrix.

(Apple strapped the saddlebags to her back and holstered her pistol. )

"Ok looks like that's everything Handy...what will you do onces I'm gone?" She asked.

(The mr. Handy hovered around and brought her a tiny mr. handy statuette.)

"Miss Apple please take care of yourself... I'll be here , I must lock up the stable and once I do life support will be turned off... no living creature will be able to close the stable door." The handy said .

( Apple looked sad but she understood she would never seen the first friend she had again, tears fell down her pale caramel coat.)

"Good bye old friend " Apple gave the bot a quick nuzzle and a kind smile.

(Apple set out her room and into the corredores of the stable, the gray drury walls of the stable gave her a bit of comfort, she was very nervous about leaving, if it was up to Apple whiskey she would have stayed there until she died un old mare with many grand foals running through the many hall's. )

(As Apple walked past the Overmare's office she popped her head in to say goodbye however the office was completely empty of life.)

"Overmare!... eh? ... nuna?... " Apple walked around her desk and sat in the big chair, it smelled so nice , the smell of foal hood memories.

(The Overmare loved to let the foals play in her office while their parents worked their various jobs in the stable. Her happiness memories were learning how to be a Overmare from the only grandmother she would ever know. )

"Overmare... I guess I'll never get to say goodbye to her..." Apple saw that her terminal was still on, normally she wouldn't snoop but she was as rather nosy filly .

(Apple clicked her hoof to the keyboard and  ejected a holotape from the Overmare's office terminal)

"What in the seven?... a holotape? " she wondered if it was a goodbye from the Overmare.

"Overmare what could you be up to?" Apple noticed the holotape port in the side of her pipbuck, she put the holotape in .

(The holotape started to play)

"Overmare's log, or should I say, direct communication. Because whoever is listening to this had the moxy to try to find out where I've gone." It paused for a moment.

"But I'm glad you did. Truth is, I need your help. I've been given a task, and... I've decided to break protocol and tell you what it is. Because If there's one thing I've learned in these past few years, it's that we need to rely on each other." It paused for a moment.

"There were three active mega spell silos in Virgineigh before the Balefire Bombs fell. They blew up the Equestria before. We can't let it happen again. So we've got to locate and secure all of the silos, or die trying. Hopefully the former. Hmph." It paused for a moment.

"But it's been twenty-five years. I just don't know what we're going to find out there. Or where to start... My directive was to go to the nearest population center and assess the situation. I'll set up a C.A.M.P. on the way once I get my bearings. Find me there." The holotape stopped.

(Apple felt confused as she tried to figure out and take in all the information she just heard.  Apple wasn't exactly sure what she could do to help her but if the Overmare needed her she would try her best to find her and help... not because of Stable tec but for the only grandmother she had... the pony who called her family. )

"Looks like we are going out there after all..."  she thought to herself.

(Apple started to wake out when she stopped at the Overmare's bedroom door, she had took the time to make her bed and straighten her room, maybe she should have cleaned up her room before as well but she didn't want the handy bots to have nothing to do for all time.)

"Wow Overmare you really need to relax... hehehe " Apple said with a giggle.

(She smiled at the handy bots that met her at the hatch to the stable door.)

"Goodbye handys...  I wish you all the best, look after the stable for everypony. " Apple hugged the sliver handy bot.

"Goodbye miss apple, and we will look after your sill bot... even if we think it's a waste of technology and fermented grains." Said the mr. handy.

(Apple smiled, she whipped her eyes.)

"I'll miss all of you so much " Apple tried not to cry as she walked thought the stable entrance and stepped out into the world beyond .

[End of holotape chapter one.]

https://my.w.tt/JCjbulc9R5

[thanksjro]

Eugenesis, Part One, Scene Four: A Motherfrickin’ Interlude

I know, I’m disappointed too.

The plot takes a backseat for a second, as we reflect on the history of Cybertron. We’re more or less told that all the other races in the galaxy are sick of the Transformers’ shit, and nobody gave two fucks when their entire planet just straight up disappeared.

This isn’t even a Roberts-sprung idea. We’re still dealing with information that was given to us via the Marvel comics; "biomorphic reproduction” is just the fancy way to say budding. I’m beginning to think that all the mechpreg accusations are somewhat misplaced. Watch this book prove me wrong, I’m halfway expecting it.

The Cybertronian population has been cut down to mere thousands as a result of Unicron’s very brief resurrection and subsequent destruction by way of Optimus Prime, and the Autobots are now the Resistance, hiding underground, as they were established to be in both the notes and Liars, A-to-D.

It’s here, in this damp underground that we meet up with Rodimus, who’s busy not listening to his second in command, Thunderclash.

Thunderclash is mentioned to be an ex-Decepticon here. Interesting take, one that I can’t seem to find any basis for in any media he was involved in prior to this novel’s publication. Still, it’s a neat bit of info, seeing as years later, Rodimus would take on another subordinate ex-‘Con in MTMTE, by way of Drift, and then later Megatron himself.

Anyway, what’s Thunderclash so worked up about? He’s not sure that holding a faction-wide assembly aboveground is such a hot idea. Which, fair; they aren’t exactly camped out in the bowels of the planet for shits and giggles. Rodimus points out that it would be good for morale to actually interact with the men under his command, which Thunderclash interprets as him basically wanting to throw a barbecue. Thunderclash is literally the only person who has a problem with this event- everyone else has either approved it, made it possible, or just thought it was a good idea.

He goes on to air his other grievances, including that the Thunder Raider- Ratchet’s ship- was supposed to be moving supplies from Delphi instead of what it’s currently doing. There’s just no pleasing Thunderclash.

Rodimus brings up the Helex report, if only to get his SOC to shut up for a second. The incident, covered in Liars, A-to-D, involved Mirage and a couple other Autobots facing off against Sixshot, a ‘Con who Galvatron really likes, purely for his bloodlust. As it turns out, Sixshot didn’t die when he was crushed by the space debris, and Mirage had the chance to take him out, but hesitated. Something’s on his mind, and Rodimus made the call to send him off with Ratchet to get his head clear. That’s probably why he was acting funny when they landed on Earth.

Thunderclash doesn’t understand why Rodimus doesn’t stop stringing Ultra Magnus along and just go ahead and shut Autobot City down, since they both agree it’s a waste of resources. Rodimus tries to get the final word in as he leaves, but ends up just sounding bitter, left standing alone as his chest flares up with pain, like the mechanical version of a tuberculosis cough.

Meanwhile, Nightbeat’s unpacking in his new room, having been transferred from the Sonic Canyons, the other Autobot/Resistance outpost. He overhears Rodimus and Thunderclash’s “discussion”. Nightbeat’s not too thrilled about his new digs, especially the lighting situation.

I can’t even begin to tell you what the fuck that could possibly mean. I looked up the phrase and got makeup ads. Guess his color match was off.

Nightbeat isn’t even sure why he’s in Iacon. All he knows is the High Command wanted him, so here he is. He thinks that maybe he should try talking to someone- maybe Chromedome, he knows him- but remembers that he’s too cool and aloof for that, and instead decides to wax poetic like a total edgelord.

Nightbeat doesn’t like the fact that most Cybertronians reach for immortality through replacement of parts. He’s decided that instead, he’s going to eventually weaken and die, having never replaced a moment of his past. This might be considered noble, if it wasn’t completely insane. In a fit of poetry, he busts the lights in his room, then pulls out what I think is his spark(?) and stares into it like the eyes of a lover- it’s referred to as a glass orb, so I’m not totally sure what’s going on here- reminded that it’s too late to start over, and to think otherwise might as well be a betrayal.

Nightbeat is fucking weird.

After reading this section, I decided to hit up the wiki, because I don’t understand this character in the slightest. It, unfortunately, wasn’t of much help. I learned that Nightbeat was a Headmaster, with a binary bond to a Nebulan named Muzzle, and that he’s been brought back from the dead at least once, but nothing to really explain just what’s going on with his train of thought here.

And then I had to stop myself and remember that this- Eugenesis, as a novel- is allowed to have self-contained character arcs and conundrums. I was so wrapped up in knowing the answer, I forgot that I only had a vague approximation of the question. The journey’s only just begun, after all. We’re on page 16.

Back in Autobot City, Wheeljack has to punch a door to get it to open. He, Ratchet, and Mirage enter Blaster’s domain, the Coms Level, where they meet back up with Ultra Magnus. We learn what Rewind found back a couple posts ago- three life signs, located in the now-abandoned Decepticon Fortress, labelled as being comatose.

They pull together a search-and-retrieve team, consisting of Ratchet, Mirage, Hound, Trailbreaker, and Bluestreak, and get ready to pull some Rescue Bots shenanigans. Magnus tells everyone to be careful, which pretty much guarantees that some grade-A bullshit is about to go down.

The narrative is ping-ponging a bit, but bear with me. Nightbeat’s dealing with a crisis of his own back on Cybertron: Longtooth’s gone missing. Nightbeat’s been on the scene for roughly five minutes at this point, but I suppose it’s nice to be needed.

Back on Earth, the team touches down in front of the fortress and makes its way inside. They find a busted throne, some lasered graffiti, and not much else. Mirage is in a mood, and they continue on, deeper into the guts of the fort.

So, what have we learned in this section? For starters, Thunderclash is kind of a dick. Sure, Rodimus isn’t the easiest to work with- he has the literal embodiment of evil trapped inside his body, after all- but still. Thunders needs to chillax.

We get some biological terminology for the Transformers as a race: morphcore, which is an outdated term for the transformation cog, lifespark, which nowadays is just the spark, and the brain module, which remains the same today.

We also got to prove that Roberts may not be the source of the mechpreg, but he sure as hell perpetuates it.

Examples A and B, your Honor. This is called theming, and it’s all on the writer, not the source materials. Can’t defend Roberts on this one.

…James.

This one doesn’t even make sense. The sentence this snippet comes from describes Mirage feeling the wall of the fortress for weaknesses, not giving it a pap-smear. Sometimes the writing feels a little “smack the manuscript around with a thesaurus until it looks good.”

[heyyylittlemo]

**Beware of Nintendo Switch Scam**

    Everybody is cooped up these days--Animal Crossing: New Horizons has got so many of us intrigued--and Nintendo Switch demands are piling up. Admittedly, we all like some good fun and what better way to spend it than testing out the new beautiful god-smacking Animal Crossing everybody has been raging about? From those beautiful lavish interior design shots, to the diva-divine clothing lines, to the peaceful tranquil music lashed across in screenshots and play-throughs. Who DOESN’T want to get their hands on a Nintendo Switch right now? 

     I really wanted my own switch for these reasons. I am a die-hard fan of animal crossing. You bet I was making my ways as a Tom Nook slave since the Gamecube days. Ever since I heard about the new game for the switch I knew I HAD TO HAVE IT. The thing is, the timing was never right. I didn’t have a switch. 

WHY WAS I SO DESPERATE? MAYBE IT WAS REVENGE? 

     When we did get it one Christmas, the game was set to launch MONTHS away. I had planned to call dibs on it during my birthday, or y’know Christmas. But no miracle happened. It was coming out in MARCH. 

     So, after deliberately DYING about the fact that I had no switch for my own and that I had no new Animal Crossing--my mother backstabbed me (perhaps unknowingly) and bought my 10 year old sister the game for her B-day. I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW, the BETRAYAL. This was a MAJOR loss for me being that now that meant she’d own the island. And we all know how we feel about this whole whose-is-what-it Island situation. There’s a whole lot of debates about it. 

I know it’s not the biggest deal, but the disappointment across my face was evident--more so than I would have wished. I gotta say it really upset me. It’s the feeling of hoping for something so dear to you being stripped out and patched into someone else’ grasp after passionately weaving it out in your pursuits. You know that it doesn’t stitch together as well as with the ones’ whose lap its been placed in, and yet it doesn’t necessarily belong to you either. And you’d think that it’d be obvious, and it hurts a lot, but you just have to accept that  sometimes you don’t get what you want even after talking about it like your life was depending on it. Yeah, I’m still salty about is, so what? That’s not even what matters! SHE owns the island. 

I WAS SO DISAPPOINTED, I NEEDED TO STEP MYSELF UP. 

I knew she’d grow tired and ditch ACNH after 1-2 weeks of playing. Still, that wouldn’t mean that i’d get to just re-vamp the island, or take it over, or *cough* *cough* destroy it. 

So I decided I’d get myself a Nintendo Switch and buy ACNH. Something about seeing someone HAVE what I wanted on their own terms just itched me to make it happen for myself, so I declared war. War on my wallet. 

SO WHAT WENT WRONG? 

      Now that I have bought a Nintendo Switch, I realize that along with God, the universe also doesn’t like me. 

Wanna know why? Well, when I first searched for the Nintendo Switch online the results for sights and their pricing was DRASTICALLY different to what I see now when I look it up. The website in which stole me of $99 of my hard-earned busting my ass off money, is NOWHERE to be seen anymore. It’s almost like it didn’t exist. The problem is: it does. You may be next. And you may be scammed. But damn, God, why did it have to be me? 

I know that my blog isn’t about this topic usually--but I just wanted to warn anyone out there who is trying to get a good deal on a Nintendo Switch. Because I just got scammed big time. Yes, now we’re finally getting into the actual exposé of this site after side-baring about how much of a Judas situation this manifesting Animal Crossing New Horizons into my life has been for me!!

     You see, prices on Nintendo Switches are CRAZY HIGH now that times arer hard. People want to overcharge for these things. It’s hard to run across a good deal near the original price of the Nintendo Switch. And when you’re desperate like me and you’ve had the raging hormones of i’ve just been et-tu-brutue’d by your mother you may just not hear the warning signs going off in your head and jump to the best sounding deal. 

But here’s the deal--there is no deal. 

     Yet just like flies, the lollipop caught mein google-eyed eyes and stuck me to its lies. When I saw this A-MAH-ZING $98.75 listing for the console from Solefiness.fun as the 1st website recommended to me from google--I freaked. 

Being offered right next to those sky high prices from websites like Ebay and Tecobuy(whose offers ranged from $350-450) Solefiness.fun was really bringing out the “I CAN DO THIS” in me. 

ALONG WITH BEING DESPERATE, RIDDLED WITH REVENGE, AND SLEEP-DEPRIVED, I WAS ALSO A THIRFTIE CHEAP CHAP

I love cheap thrills. I felt like a rat walking in to the cheese, who couldn’t see the trap. 

   I took no time into emptying my wallet. Which fair enough, I deserved it. If I’m stupid enough to jump right in the shark’s mouth CAN I really be mad that I got eaten? Who buys from a site which such low prices and no reviews and no sense of security? 

   Surprisingly, probably a lot of people(can’t confirm that)--maybe I’m the only one. Let’s say I’m not though. Well, who would be at risk? Other desperates, and of course those who like me, don’t know anything a dime about “finessing”. 

THE SCAM WAS HIDDEN IN PLAIN “SITE”. 

 And it kinda is my fault that I’m not “caught” up on all the latest terms since recently adulting into the world and having no chance to chase up to these new expressions, such as “finesse”. 

     If I knew a lick about what “finesse” meant then maybe I would’ve noped right out of that transaction. Hell, even dodged that site after it was recommended to me. How meta can this scam-site get? Cleverly naming itself “Solefiness.fun” as it slicks us away of our money. Maybe I should have listened to my brother and downloaded TikTok. I would’ve known what finessing was all about. 

AND YET, IT REALLY ISN’T MY FAULT. YOU CAN’T JUST STEAL MY MONEY. 

     But at the same time, NOBODY deserves to be scammed. After serving a bunch of Karens do you THINK I want to just hand my money over to some basement-boy Bobby whose “finessing” his way by breaking the hearts of little Animal Crossing lovers--Switch lovers--Playstation 4 lovers--and whatever else this crude prude “sells” on his/her site? 

     Bitch, you have a storm coming in wreaking my Nintendo dreams. I’m about to switch it up real quick! I don’t want non y’all to get finessed, so I’m about to spread the word about this baloney. 

If you’re wondering: how DID I not see the danger signs? Sure it might’ve been called finesse something something, but weren’t there others clues? OF COURSE.  I wanted to believe in this great deal, was all. It was the desperation--the spontaneous energy--and now the sober regret. I was so proud of cashing out for this purchase. So excited. But not for long. 

THE MOMENT I REALIZED IT WAS A SCAM, THEY’D ALREADY HAD MY MONEY. 

 Because I awoke the minute it charged my account and refused to complete my order. Why did it charge me AND still ask for a payment?  Why was my damn cart still full? Who the hell do you think you are charging my account under some new company name--which is now Chinese-and labeling my purchase under the category of “Construction”? 

Let’s not forget that USPS has not informed me of ANY packages and the tracking tells me you delivered it to me 10 DAYS before I even placed the order? What in the scam-oli?

Long story short, it wasn’t very hard to build a case against this site. Especially since the order # started with “idc” and followed with a bunch of randomized numbers and letters? Nice try finessing phineases and ferb fucker. 

I know order #s are VERY random but it had this randomness that just screamed imagined and randomized by a fucked up human scammer. It won’t bot-y or natural. It was orchestrated the house. 

So my dears, DO NOT BUY FROM: https://www.solefiness.fun/

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. AND YES THIS WAS AN EXCUSE TO RANT. BUT BE WARNED. 

[cindylouwho-2]

RECENT NEWS, RESOURCES & STUDIES, May 2 2020

Welcome to my latest summary of recent ecommerce news, resources & studies including search, analytics, content marketing, social media & Etsy! This covers articles I came across since the late April report, although some may be older than that. I will do my best to keep posting these at least once every 10 days if not sooner. 

Have any topics you would like to see me cover in more detail? Drop me a line here on Tumblr, or email me through my website. I’m also on Twitter and YouTube if you prefer social.  

TOP NEWS & ARTICLES 

If you sell on Etsy, this is your reminder that the Offsite Ads program kicks in on May 4, and people who make under $10K a year on Etsy can opt out if they want to avoid the additional fees. I have a summary here. 

Issues with mail delivery during the pandemic continue. Canada Post has suspended on time delivery guarantees and warns of December level volume.  USPS is not shipping to 113 countries, including many APO addresses. 

I am still interested in posting articles and lists of resources for small businesses and artists during the pandemic, so please pass on any good resources you know about. HubSpot did a page for Australia, and one for the United States.  See my previous edition for a longer list. 

ETSY NEWS 

Mask sales have created a huge boom for Etsy, but also some busts. “Suddenly millions of people were logging on to Etsy, searching for masks nine times every second, the company calculated.The site was not ready for the rush….There are now 50,000 sellers on Etsy who have each sold at least one mask; 10,000 have sold at least 100. Etsy staff spent time calling the most popular sellers to weed out scams, but also to ensure well-meaning sellers were not over-promising.” There have been many threads from sellers whose shops were de-indexed due to both bots and to Etsy wanting to limit their sales until they catch up on open orders, creating a lot of complaints at a time when their customer service response is hugely delayed. 

Some sellers report receiving listing credits for masks, although several who received money did not sell masks, and many others who did sell masks got nothing. 

Another Seller Handbook post on what people are looking for while they are under lockdown (TL;DR: home decor, activities, bath & beauty) , as well as suggestions for how you can pivot your shop. They include the top search terms for each area; some examples: washable paper towel, garden, birthday gift,  printable wall art, puzzle, board game, puzzle adult. “As shoppers transform their living spaces for multifunctional uses like working, exercising, and homeschooling, they’re looking for cozy comfort as well as fresh, on-season style updates that offer mood-boosting appeal….113% YoY increase in searches on Etsy for “home office...127% YoY increase in searches on Etsy for “indoor garden...“Face mask” was the top searched term for the last five weeks (as of April 23, 2020)” Finally, “In recent Etsy buyer research, one third of shoppers who anticipated purchasing on Etsy in the next three months reported planning to buy gifts.” [Although the article doesn’t mention this, I strongly recommend emphasizing somewhere in your shop that you can send the order directly to the gift recipient, if you sell giftable items but sales are down right now. I am getting a lot more requests for gift notes than usual, and more people are paying for tracking so they know when the gift arrives.]

A study says that 30% of Etsy sellers do not save for emergencies, and 74% want Etsy to help them when emergencies arise. 

Two new features for users of Etsy’s USPS labels: free pick up requests, and easy customer return labels. 

Etsy launched an exclusive collection with Joseph Altuzarra. 

SEO: GOOGLE & OTHER SEARCH ENGINES 

Moz just came out with an excellent guide to keyword research that you all should at least bookmark to come back to later, even if you don’t do keyword research now. The introduction contains a good definition of long tail with a graph; “Only about 20% of the keywords people search for will be popular "head" terms. The majority of keyword phrases will be less-frequent, long-tail keywords.” There’s even a downloadable 2-page cheat sheet on the basics at the end. 

There may have been a Google search update around April 16, but I am mostly posting this article for the graphs showing search volatility in the past 1-2 months; those changes in the second half of March into early April seem to be mostly user-driven due to the pandemic, rather than algorithm changes. 

Backlinks are not all created equal, and time is sometimes one of the factors in weighting them. [text and video] 

This analysis of near 12 million Google search results turned up some interesting correlations with ranking. Not surprisingly, sites in first place have many more backlinks on average than the other sites on the same page. It was a bit surprising to learn that page loading speed didn’t correlate with ranking at all (that may change once everyone goes to mobile first indexing in the fall), nor did using the keyword in your title tag. “Pages in Google’s top 10 results contain 65% to 85% of the keywords that they’re ranking for in their title tag. However, we found very little (if any) correlation between keyword-optimized title tags and higher rankings on the first page.”

Google may delay its move to complete mobile-first indexing by September, depending on how sites are managing due to the recent disruptions.

Some businesses are moving the money they spent on advertising over to SEO, because there is a longer-term payoff vs. a short term impact from someone seeing an ad on a given day. Good SEO can get you ranking on many search engines for years, if you are lucky. 

(CONTENT) MARKETING & SOCIAL MEDIA (includes blogging & emails) 

Not surprisingly, the top times for social media traffic have changed during the pandemic; here’s an updated list. 

Thinking of starting a YouTube channel? Here’s a beginner’s manual including screenshots on how to set it up, as well as tips on YouTube SEO & other marketing tactics. 

Don’t know what to put in your email newsletters? HubSpot picked 17 examples they think are awesome. 

Facebook rapidly revamped & expanded its video chat option to compete with Zoom & Houseparty, called Messenger Rooms. Note that “Room calls are not end-to-end encrypted, but Facebook says it does not view or listen to calls.” The are also working on the ability to charge people to watch live streams. 

Twitter had a good first quarter but the stock still fell because it does not look like they are recovering from the pandemic effects very quickly. 

ONLINE ADVERTISING (SEARCH ENGINES, SOCIAL MEDIA, & OTHERS) 

As mentioned in my last edition, Google Shopping is now offering free listings on its US platform, and rolled out a bit early for some even though the start date was given as April 27. Your Etsy listings will not be shown in the free ads if you opt out of Etsy’s Offsite Ads program, and you are not allowed to add marketplace listings to GS yourself, but this may be something you are interested in for your website, if you sell to the US. Some tips on setting up Merchant accounts correctly for this here and here, and optimizing your listings here. If your standalone is on Shopify, they have instructions here. 

As ad prices are dropping for some items on some platforms, it has become easier for small businesses to start campaigns, especially experienced online sellers who can now take advantage of the ecommerce boom. [I agree with this for the right types of items or service, but I don’t think it is going to work for everything.]

New to online advertising, and don’t know where to start? HubSpot has a good introductory overview here, with details on the main options available. 

Google is offering ad credits to small & medium sized businesses as pandemic relief, starting in late May. Note that you need to have been running ads last year with Google to be eligible. . 

Google Ad users will soon need to submit proof of identity & location, starting with US users. The move is to help prevent scammers and increase transparency. Early response to the announcement is mixed. 

Facebook is no longer forcing advertisers to use its Campaign Budget Optimization, meaning businesses will continue to be able to set different budgets across all of their campaigns. 

STATS, DATA, OTHER TRACKING 

If you have an ecommerce site built with Wordpress, here’s how to track your email newsletter clicks through Google Analytics. 

And for your ecommerce site, the best alerts to set up in GA. 

Bing Webmaster Tools has a great feature that tracks traffic to connected accounts other than your website or blog - but Twitter has been removed from this list. 

There are far more Instagram analytics apps than I thought. 

ECOMMERCE NEWS, IDEAS, TRENDS 

Many ecommerce platforms/website providers are being pressured to reduce the fake COVID-19 disinfectants on their sites, including eBay, Facebook, Shopify & Alibaba.

There is a new app that lets buyers shop with multiple businesses who run their sites through Shopify, called Shop. Among other things, it will feature businesses local to the user: “A recent survey of global consumers by Ernst & Young found that 34% of respondents are willing to pay more for local products amid the pandemic.”

Shopify’s stock is flying high right now, and it has become the second-most valuable company in Canada, in part due to the surge of sign ups after the start of the pandemic. 

Since page loading speed is important to buyer conversions as well as SEO, if you have a Shopify site, you will want to read about which themes are the fastest & slowest to load. A few are ridiculously slow, & you will want to consider your goals if you are thinking of using them. 

Jeff Bezos has moved back to managing Amazon operations due to the pandemic. “Bezos was also personally involved in Amazon’s decision to suspend third-party vendors from shipping non-essential items to Amazon’s warehouses, helping ease the load on workers so that they could more efficiently ship goods like baby products, groceries, pet supplies and personal care products.  He also signed off on Amazon’s move to halt tactics it normally uses “to encourage customers to put more items in their shopping carts”.

Meanwhile, Amazon VP states that Amazon has done a lot for sellers during the pandemic, including suspending “repayment of all Amazon Lending loans for sellers in the United States and the United Kingdom until April 30.” I guess that is why their profit fell to only $2.5 billion in the first quarter of 2020 despite their gross sales being up 29% due to the pandemic buying. 

Amazon’s pilot program for verifying new sellers by video calls is continuing; contrary to previous reports, they say they are not using facial-recognition technology, but they are checking photo ID against the video call. 

eBay has extended its suspension of most seller performance standard rules until June 19 for sellers in the UK. They are also extending their free listing offers, and after banning mask sales are now apparently envying Etsy’s sales and are encouraging sellers to make fabric masks.They are also planning a way to confirm sales that involve local pickups [podcast & transcript]. 

eBay had lower 1st quarter results than they & others had predicted, so the stock went down. Here is the call transcript for those interested. 

BUSINESS & CONSUMER STUDIES, STATS & REPORTS; SOCIOLOGY & PSYCHOLOGY, CUSTOMER SERVICE 

The pandemic sales trends have switched from hoarding essentials to food & home comfort items. “As spring eased toward summer, cooking at home also began to include gardening. "We see continued growth in gardening," said Ventry. ... Growing herbs, he said, played well with the home cooking trend, too. "We saw similar trends from 2008 to 2010, during the recession."

Ecommerce sales are way up, perhaps 50% up in the US right now, and some of these people will continue their increased online shopping, so it is a good time to launch many types of new campaigns. (warnings - some “not safe for work” language) 

HubSpot has been producing a weekly pandemic report on its customers core business stats, such as website traffic & sales rates. They speculate that we might be seeing a bit of an overall recovery as of last week. 

MISCELLANEOUS

There are still more good work-from-home articles coming out that can also be relevant for those of us who have been doing this for a while now. Using a schedule to be more productive is a common topic. As is managing to be productive with kids around. 

[tksfandomhellhole]

Alright now this. This is the one I’ve been waiting for. This is the start to the (ongoing) series that makes me go “I NEED someone else to talk to about this.” Because boy do I have Plans™ that I really hope I follow through on

If I play my cards right the series may very well be the Apex of my apex fic career.

I also may have busted out my photoshop skills for it towards the end and it feels silly now but at least you can tell I had major fun with this

Fandom: Apex Legends (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Revenant (Apex Legends), Pathfinder (Apex Legends), Mirage | Elliott Witt Additional Tags: Minor headcanon for The Syndicate, Canon-Typical Violence Series: Part 1 of Infiltrating the Syndicate Summary:

Revenant is bored to death. Pathfinder would spend 10 minutes searching if you told him gullible was on the ceiling. And Mirage somehow gets roped into this.

What ensues ends up being more dangerous than any of them bargained for.

Revenant is bored out of his fucking mind.

Between being in this communal living space where he has to refrain from killing all these people he hates and rarely getting the chance to curbstomp some of them in the ring himself, being an apex legend is not all he imagined it to be.

Where's the death and action he was promised? He hasn't seen a match all day.

Even assholes need to pass the time somehow.

"Hello there, friend!"

Ugh, great. The smiling scrap heap is here.

"Go bother one of those skinbags you love talking to." He says, attempting to strike down the potential conversation before it starts.

The attempt goes unnoticed, as Pathfinder responds anyways. "I would! But they are all in the ring." The screen switches to a frowning face for effect.

If Revenant didn't have proof standing right in front of him, he'd think it was impossible for a robot to wear it's heart on their sleeve. It's not like they're supposed to have them in the first place.

It does give him an idea though. Maybe he can get some entertainment out of this after all.

"Really?" Revenant starts, feigning interest "Which of those skinbags do you consider your friends?"

"All of my teammates are my friends! They are very nice. I hope my creator gets to meet them one day."

"All of them? That's pretty strange considering half of them can't even stand you, including me."

"My friends don't like me...?" Pathfinder is visibly confused but still pauses to consider the thought, and Revenant knows it's working.

"Yea, in fact, I'm pretty sure that skinbag with the stupid hair and holograms has even told me he hates you." Even Revenant knows the scrap heap is partial to that skinbag in particular, as stupid as the idea of a robot harboring any sentiment at all is.

"Mirage? But he is the one who told me about the games! Mirage is my best friend."

"Hey, if you still wanna believe that it's your choice." Revenant says, before taking his leave. The bot may not believe him but the seeds of doubt have been placed, and knowing both parties far better than he'd ever like to, it's only a matter of time before things come to a head.

At this point anything is better than sitting here brainstorming the fastest way to kill himself so he doesn't have to put up with this a minute longer.

And as if on cue, the man of the hour returns to the lounge.

"Ah, Mirage!" Pathfinder calls out, intending to settle this the most logical way: by simply asking.

Before he gets the chance to respond though, another match begins, and Mirage finds himself on a drop platform getting ready to enter the next game.

Pathfinder doesn't have an issue with that of course, until he actually hears what Mirage is saying.

The platform is about to descend, taking their team out of earshot entirely, but not before Pathfinder hears Mirage say "At least I don't have to fight with that smiling robot" with a laugh.

Pathfinder continues to look at the spot where the platform descended crestfallen long after they've disappeared.

"See? What'd I tell ya." Revenant says with the biggest shiteating grin because holy shit this was way easier than he'd thought it would be.

"Oh... I see. I thought I was beginning to understand humans better since joining the Apex Games, but it seems I am still ignorant..."

Pathfinder remembers feeling this way once before; shortly after meeting Elliott for the first time and learning of how he was being tricked. Had he been tricked yet again? Were all humans just cruel? Is this what he was supposed to learn when his creator abandoned him?

He was beginning to suspect learning about the human race was not such a good idea afterall. He did not like being deceived but he also did not mind these things when he did not know any better.

"Well there isn't really a lot to learn about skinbags I wouldn't trouble myself too greatly over it." Revenant begins panic backtracking because, yea, he was trying to stir tensions up a bit, but the scrap heap seems to be taking this far more personally than he thought possible, and he doesn't actually want to be the reason the bot figures out that most skinbags are terrible retched creatures- really, he should learn that on his own the hard way. Later. When he is far far away, and not right now, in front of him, where he can see how devastating this discovery is to the thing.

For a long moment, Revenant isn't even really sure if the machine has heard a word he just said, before Pathfinder suddenly snaps back to normal, in an almost jarring movement. "Well, I should get going now! See you later, friend." he says, and heads out of the lounge area, leaving Revenant more than a little confused.

---

Mirage had almost forgotten Pathfinder had been trying to ask him something earlier before he noticed he hadn't seen Path around since before that match.

That's strange, he thought to himself. Path was not the best at intentionally masking his presence,  so he should definitely have run into him by now, especially if there was a question still burning away at his mind. Pathfinder seemed to be an infinitely curious being.

There wasn't any harm in looking around at least. After asking "Path? You here?" to at least four different rooms, Lifeline finally took pity on him and pointed him in the right direction.

"Last I seen him, he was talking with Revenant. Ya better off asking him."

Stranger yet Mirage thinks, but decides not to jump the panic button just yet, heading over to where the robot in question idly twiddled with a knife.

"Revenant, was Pathfinder talking to you earlier?"

Revenant almost seems caught off guard by the question "Yea, what of it, skinsuit?" He bites out.

"Well, did you at least catch where he went after that? Cause he doesn't seem to be here."

If he didn't know any better, Mirage would say Revenant almost looks sheepish now, and given the context that's none too reassuring. Revenant says nothing and Mirage narrows his eyes in suspicion. "Wait, do you know something we don't?" Maybe it was just something robot related that non-robots wouldn't understand? Mirage didn't have any idea what the two could've possibly discussed that would make Revenant of all people clam up.

Revenant finally relents "Alright so I may have said somethings that set the walking quote machine off, but I didn't know the pathetic scrap heap was gonna run off like that."

"I'm sorry, did you say HE RAN OFF?" Mirage asks, internal alarm bells suddenly going off.

Revenant regains his edge with a smirk "Yeah, you might wanna go find him before he gets lost. He's about as smart as a toaster oven."

"Dammit!" Mirage yells, grabbing his gear on the way out.

---

“Stupid Revenant and stupid fast Pathfinder leaving without telling anyone. Seriously how did he get this far away already?" Mirage mutters to himself as he speed searches in the general direction he believes Pathfinder would have went. Maybe he should've enlisted Bloodhound's help before he left. At least they would be able to tell if someone had traveled this way recently.

It's dark out, and he's far from where the ship base docked. He hopes he finds something soon because he really doesn't want to be out here all night.

He's also starting to get paranoid, because he swears he heard some shuffling a few times that definitely wasn't his own, despite the fact no one is around.

Finally, he manages to spot the unmistakable  silhouette of Pathfinder up ahead.

"Path! What the hell are you doing out here?!" He yells, to stop the robot in it's tracks.

"Oh, hello Mirage! I have decided to quit the apex games."

Mirage takes only a moment to process this, before  asking, incredulous, "Are you dualsinal- delis- dil- are you out of your mind?!"

"I have been informed our friends do not like me, so it does not make sense to continue participating. I decided to continue looking for my creator elsewhere. It appears I am lost though!"

"Ok you're a robot, so you probably dont understand how ironic that is- but more importantly! Who told you that- wait, nevermind don't answer that, I already figured it out." Mirage says, putting two and two together. He sighs before continuing. "Okay, listen. Path. Nobody hates you buddy. Everyone thinks you're a valuable player to the games, and a valuable member to the teams. And, AND the games are still your best bet at finding your creator, not roaming the worlds blindly. So this is a very poor decision!"

"Then does this mean you don't hate me?"

"Hate you? Why would you think- Ok maybe I joke A LOT, but Path, you were the first person I even met in the games. If I hated you, you would definitely know by now."

"Really? This is great! I love you too, friend." Pathfinder exclaims, wrapping Mirage in a hug before he can object.

"Uh-huh, you're coming back and rejoining the games, that's great, now can we please go back? This place is starting to freak me out." Mirage says, pushing out of the hug.

Mirage begins to backtrack the way he came. "Alright, uhhh, I'm pretty sure it's this way, come on let's- ack!" The sound of a bullet whizzes by and Pathfinder and Mirage manage to get a glimpse of three armored figures coming from the direction it came from before dodging into cover behind a nearby rock.

"That's not good!" Mirage states, yelping when a spray of bullets flies past his head while attempting to assess the situation. "Path, how many crimes did you commit, since leaving the ship?!"

"I have not engaged in any illegal activities!" Pathfinder replies, similarly panicked.

"Well, It's a good thing I never leave the ship without my weapon holster!" Mirage says, pulling out a p2020 from his belt.

The three men converging on their position have spread out, attempting to cut them off on all sides.

"Alright, think fast Mirage, there's 3 guys flanking us, we have a robot with a grappling hook, me, and a single p2020. Totally doable."

Mirage straightens up suddenly and takes one last quick look over the cover before turning back to Pathfinder. "Follow my lead!"

Mirage dodges bullets as he runs out from behind the cover and sends out one of his decoys at the person flanking the left. They shoot the decoy and he loads a clip into their skull. In the same motion he swings back towards the center and heads for the remaining two enemies, activating  his decoy cloak.

Pathfinder takes the hint and uses the confusion to hook his grappling hook on an iron bar above the person flanking right, swinging into them at full force and knocking them out flat.

"You got bamboozled!" Mirage says, now dramatically posed behind the last guy. He takes aim and-

*click*

"Fuck." Mirage says, upon realizing his clip is empty. The man whips around to train his gun on him and Mirage instinctively stumbles a step back before-

The shadows twitch for a second and suddenly the man cries out in pain, robotic fingers protuding through him for only a moment before Revenant retracts his hand entirely and the man crumples to the floor.

"Revenant? What the hell are you doing here?" Mirage asks, relieved, not for the first time, that Revenant is on their side.

If you accused Revenant of being concerned about the trouble he may have inadvertantly gotten these two idiots into he'd brush you off, so instead he says "I was bored. Thought you guys might be up to something more entertaining. Looks like I was right."

"Well that was an uncomfortably close call. Do we have any idea who these wack jobs were?" Mirage asks approaching one on the ground to get a better look.

" ...Hey wait a minute, this is the Syndicate's symbol." He says, running his hands over a logo printed on the shoulder of their armor.

He picks up a boxy device from the person's holster and clicks the button. It boots up and displays a hologram with a dossier.

Mirage doesn't like being stressed, so he chooses to be offended instead. "Hey! Revenant's here too, why isn't he on the target list?"

"You think I got to be a hitman by being as loud and dumb as you two?" He responds, insulted.

Either way, this didn't bode well for any of them. "...Path, Rev, we-"

"I didn't consent to you giving me a nickname, skinbag." Revenant interrupts.

"You guys! We can't tell anyone about what happened here today."

"But Mirage, should we not notify our friends of-"

"No!" Mirage quickly grabs Pathfinder by the shoulders and shakes him for emphasis. "No. This stays between the three of us. We're already in enough trouble as it is, let's just go back to the ship and pretend nothing happened- And for the love of god, Path, don't try to quit the Apex Games again."

Pathfinder frowns at this turn of events but nods his head. "Understood."

Revenant simply gives a noncommittal grunt of acknowledgement.

"We might not live to tell the tale next time..." Mirage adds under his breath, taking one last look at the mercenaries lying at their feet.

Was there even a guarantee they could return to the games without further issues? Only time could really tell.

One thing was for sure; Revenant got exactly what he asked for.

Things just got a hell of a lot more interesting around here.

Perhaps it was time he revisited the Syndicate, add some targets to his hitlist. No one's gonna tell him where he can and can't go.

And maybe, for once, he had two targets to protect instead.