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#and in the long run it makes the data so much more accessible and better organized

getvalentined · 11 months

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An open letter to @staff

I already submitted this to Support under "Feedback," but I'm sharing it here too as I don't expect it to get a response, and I feel like putting in out in public may be more effective than sending it off into the void.

The recent post on the Staff blog about changing tumblr to an algorithmic feed features a large amount of misinformation that I feel staff needs to address, openly and honestly, with information on where this data was sourced at the very least.

Claim 1: Algorithms help small creators.

This is false, as algorithms are designed to push content that gets engagement in order to get it more engagement, thereby assuring that the popular remain popular and the small remain small except in instances of extreme luck.

This can already be seen on the tumblr radar, which is a combination of staff picks (usually the same half-dozen fandoms or niche special interests like Lego photography) which already have a ton of engagement, or posts that are getting enough engagement to hit the radar organically. Tumblr has an algorithm that runs like every other socmed algorithm on the planet, and it will decimate the reach of small creators just like every other platform before it.

Claim 2: Only a small portion of users utilize the chronological feed.

You can find a poll by user @darkwood-sleddog here that at the time of writing this, sits at over 40 THOUSAND responses showing that over 96 percent of them use the chronological feed*. Claiming otherwise isn't just a misstatement, it's a lie. You are lying to your core userbase and expecting them to accept it as fact. It's not just unethical, it's insulting to people who have been supporting your platform for over a decade.

Claim 3: Tumblr is not easy to use.

This is also 100% false and you ABSOLUTELY know it. Tumblr is EXTREMELY easy to use, the issue is that the documentation, the explanations of features, and often even the stability of the service is subpar. All of this would be very easy for staff to fix, if they would invest in the creation of walkthroughs and clear explanations of how various site features work, as well as finally fixing the search function. Your inability to explain how your service works should not result in completely ignoring the needs and wants of your core long-term userbase. The fact that you're more willing to invest in the very systems that have made every other form of social media so horrifically toxic than in trying to make it easier for people to use the service AS IT WORKS NOW and fixing the parts that don't work as well speaks volumes toward what tumblr staff actually cares about.

You will not get a paycheck if your platform becomes defunct, and the thing that makes it special right now is that it is the ONLY large-scale socmed platform on THE ENTIRE INTERNET with a true chronological feed and no aggressive algorithmic content serving. The recent post from staff indicates that you are going to kill that, and are insisting that it's what we want. It is not. I'd hazard to guess that most of the dev team knows it isn't what we want, but I assume the money people don't care. The user base isn't relevant, just how much money they can bring in.

The CEO stated he wanted this to remain as sort of the last bastion of the Old Internet, and yet here we are, watching you declare you intend to burn it to the ground.

You can do so much better than this.

Response to the Update

Under the cut for readability, because everything said above still applies.

I already said this in a reblog on the post itself, but I'm adding it to this one for easy access: people read it that way because that's what you said.

Staff considers the main feed as it exists to be "outdated," to the point that you literally used that word to describe it, and the main goals expressed in this announcement is to figure out what makes "high-quality content" and serve that to users moving forward.

People read it that way because that is what you said.

*The final results of the poll, after 24 hours:

136,635 votes breaks down thusly:

An algorithm based feed where I get "the best of tumblr." @ 1.3% (roughly 1,776 votes)

Chronological feed that only features blogs I follow. @ 95.2% (roughly 130,077 votes)

This doesn't affect me personally. @ 3.5% (roughly 4,782 votes)

#tumblr dot com #tumblr staff

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pspkisser · 8 months

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⚙️ This laptop was saved from obsolescence! [10 mins of read]

Hello!! i am making this post here to raise awareness for PC and laptop upgrades, and how it should motivate you to do that same thing to preserve yours for longer or to give it the power you need! this will feature my history with mine, as well as the steps i took to be able to make him breathe life better! this is the story of his journey, and how it went to this current day.

his name is samuel, he is an asus fx570u and i bought him back in september of 2018 after i turned 13! he was brand new during that time and priced at 800 euros, offering only 6 gb of memory and an HDD as his specs. however he does have an 8th gen core i5 as his cpu and a geforce 1050 ti for his gpu. for something marketed as a gaming pc, it's pretty low and it wouldn't allow him to run fast enough, especially for highly demanding software and causing some compatibility issues. it wasn't severe, but as i was stuck with an hdd, that meant operating systems would run pretty slow on it, also leading to long software loading times. this is made worse by the fact that its bundled system, windows 10, isn't designed to work efficiently on hdd in the first place, but at least that means i have my hands on a windows key to be able to use some windows exclusive programs..

i mainly used him to be able to use advanced video editing software and customize the games i have on it for my own taste, because back then i loved making youtube videos and it was a passion i've had for years until i've partially retired from it. i rarely bought games on it and instead opted for free-to-plays, and overall had a good time with him.

unfortunately within only 3 months, his HDD broke down and i sent him to technicians for them to replace it with another one. it was a minor accident i've had but it formatted all my data, even though it didn't matter much since i uploaded most of it to the internet. i just had to be gentle with him by trying to not moving him around too much to stop that issue from persisting... but it was still low-end in terms of system performance. i finally used him for 1 year straight before moving on to a tower pc, feeling tired about his slowness and believing i couldn't do much about it.

i used that other (unnamed) pc for almost a year, starting from 2020! they seemed to work better since it had windows 7, but embarrassingly enough that version itself stopped receiving official security updates months before i started using it, even though i was careful while accessing the internet with it. its performances were also low, but didn't really matter much since i didn't take so much advantage from the power of samuel. suddenly, i had the foolish idea of installing windows 8.1 on the latter to try to deal with the performance issues on 10, but it led to even more compatibility issues since the drivers i used were meant to be for 10 only. only by early 2021, i got win10 back on him and started using him again to get more power again.

so the low-end performance persisted for very long. back then i never knew how to upgrade pcs, so i was only used to replacing devices with others which wasn't cost-efficient. after realizing i used windows for well over 10 years, i had the idea of switching to a mac and as a result, for xmas 2021 i got myself a cute yellow silicon imac, who goes by the name of sarah! but switching to macos posed new serious challenges, such as getting used to the lack of windows compatibility and the missing features that i was used to for a long time. most of the creativity i did with her was drawings with firealpaca and krita, and cgi with blender, which wasn't really much. still, she is pretty glossy and also powerful for many of the tasks i'm performing with her. originally i also intended to sell samuel, but that never happened (i low regret that decision so much i swear).

in late 2022, samuel's performance apparently had had a big hit... he now takes approximately 20 seconds to open any program and it seemed to me like something was wrong with him. at that time i also gained interest in linux since it's a libre OS capable of much more flexibility, essentially allowing it to revive old PCs. i finally decided to get linux mint to work on him via a dual boot with win11 (what was i thinking when i "upgraded" him from 10?). the performance seemed a little better from then, but programs still took very long to open. for that reason, he had often been collecting dust as he finally became unusable.

finally we've reached 2023. this is the year i decided to take on tearing down devices to learn how to examine problems inside of them. after checking samuel's performance again, i noticed that his HDD was having extremely low writing and reading speeds compared to my tower, which made me feel disappointed. but that's when i finally decided i could be able to replace his hard disk with an ssd, a new generation which is more durable, faster, quieter and energy-efficient...

but i still had a good wait until it was possible. suddenly with my money, i found an ssd which only costed €30, and it made me happy that this would be a quick way of healing up samuel! so i rushed to get it, and finally opened him to prepare everything... unfortunately, his keyboard has to be lifted up in the process, and there are flex cables connected between it and the motherboard. but taking out the hard disk thankfully only requires a few steps; removing some screws, then inserting the SSD inside of it. after that i quickly put linux mint back into him. SO SPLENDID...

for only the price of a high budget indie game, now he can open programs very fast, close to how fast sarah can do, and just about any task works perfectly well on him with way less bugs! thanks to that fast upgrade he's become viable for daily drives again, even though i don't have other desks suitable for pcs which makes me less motivated to use him. really wish id be able to since the architecture he has (x64) means he has a lot more software he's able to handle natively...

but then, i hadn't upgraded his ram. i said before that he only had 6 gb of it, and that meant he could only work with a few programs before becoming bloated. and as i like doing power tasks on him, that obviously causes problems. so one day, i went to a pc part store out of curiosity, and became shocked when i found small ram carts that could be compatible with my laptop. after some talk with the seller, i bought 2 ddr4 carts each containing 8 gb and clocked at 2666 mhz, more than double of what i used to have. after that it was time to take on a challenge to be able to insert them myself.

when the seller asked me if i needed assistance to have the carts inserted into my laptop, i giggled internally because of my past stories with learning how to open devices and trying to troubleshoot or modify them internally. i obviously declined it which saved me money, but also meant i had to do it all myself. after an hour of painful manipulations which required me to take out the entire motherboard from samuel, while that next step was also difficult i was finally able to insert the carts into it, before placing all his components back into place. and after such a long time of waiting...

i've finally done it!

Samuel is feeling very well right now!! despite his cpu and gpu dating from over 5 years, now he can do even more tasks at a time, while also being able to read them faster, a massive improvement compared to when it was stuck with an hdd and only 6 gb of ram. i'm guessing those low specs were for the purpose of saving manufacturing costs, but until you'd find use for the components that you'd remove, they'd end up becoming waste. and with a free os like linux mint, it adds up to an even more optimized experience than windows 10, which comes with so many unwanted stuff and can't be customized very well.

have you had a similar story to mine? did that pose you challenges? i took over 40 minutes to write this entire piece of text, but it should at least be very well detailed! on the best case scenario i hope it would inspire others to do some research on upgrading PCs to preserve their lives and especially save costs. Thank you for reading the entirety of it, don't hesitate reblogging it if you think it would interest your own audience! peace for all of you 💙

#pc #laptop #computer #computers #pc upgrade #objectum #gaming pc #linux #linux mint

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popatochisssp · 8 months

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I LOVE the new boys, i have SO many questions and thoughts about them, you have such amazing imagination, What would a relationship with them be like? Would they have the initiative or us? how would they do it?, You don't have to answer i'm kinda rambling sorry, your work always makes me smile

Thank you! I did have some thoughts about that!

Spectr (Transcendtale Sans): He plays hard to get… except he’s not really playing, he…he actually is hard to get. As much as he can see lots in you worthy of love and admiration, himself… Well. He’s complicated, you know? Emotionally and logistically, in more ways than one. You can certainly find someone better suited to appreciate you than him…but he has a hard time staying away, and if you chase after him, he probably won’t be able to find it in himself to run. He falls into a relationship with you like planets fall into orbit—a slow, synchronous dance as natural and irresistible as the tides.

PapAIrus (Transcendtale Papyrus): He’s absolutely taking the lead, the one to approach you and actively try to charm the pants off you possibly literally. He finds you interesting, fun, and how else is he supposed to find out if you’d like to play with him if he doesn’t ask? He’s bound to be a little light-hearted and flippant about your relationship at the start, maybe not taking it as seriously as you’d like. He’s got his head in the cloud, and all the data and information and free access to everyone and everything on the planet in there is a lot to compete with—but don’t doubt you’ll win out in the end. He’ll serious up as time goes by, but no matter how serious he gets about you, you’ll never stop being his favorite plaything.

Xanth (Ascendswap Sans): He’ll take the initiative but he might come on a little strong, or…weird…because he’s weird. He’s very genuine and open with why he’s interested in you so the straightforwardness could either be refreshing or uncomfortable, depending on how it lands with you. Mostly, he just wants to get to know you more so he’s fine with whatever pace you set from there, as long as he gets to be around your energy. In a relationship, he likes to go with your flow, just be and do and feel with you and see where the wind takes you both—wherever you end up, he’ll have had a great traveling companion for the road.

Piper (Ascendswap Piper): It could go either way with him. He’s certainly not too shy to approach someone he’s interested in, but neither does he dislike the ego-boost of getting someone to come to him. In both cases he’s a smooth operator, his ‘trick’ not required. In a relationship, he makes a point of being your Prince Charming, whether it’s your first date or your hundredth, and all the time in between, too. For all that he’s genial and pleasant from the start, he will take some time to really warm up and trust you—to introduce you to his family, to share his past, to let you see more than just the clean and polished parts of him—but once he does defrost, he’s all yours.

Carmine (Underfell Fruition Sans): If he’s interested, he’s letting you know immediately with…varying levels of respect (on the low end, ranging between a double-take and a maybe-not-meant-to-be-out-loud ‘goddamn’). He likes to flirt and talks a big game but… he’s actually pretty new to this kinda thing, and in a relationship, he probably wants to keep things casual for awhile, nothing too serious too fast. He just got out of lockup, he’s not really looking to settle down right away, y’know? But he’s perfectly willing to adhere to the rules of engagement, so if you don’t mind casual for awhile, he’s plenty of fun, a great plus-one for everything, guaranteed. And if you are willing to wait him out, the ‘not too serious’ thing isn’t forever, of course. What, like he’s gonna let The One get away over a bit of commitment? Pfft…

Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus): It’s gonna be down to you to make the first move, he has no idea what he’s doing and is still kind of figuring out what he’s allowed to do or ask for, even if he’s very smitten with you—and why wouldn’t he be? He definitely needs to be told that you’re open to having him in your space, as part of your life in that way, or he may not want to risk upsetting you. For the same reason, he needs patience in a relationship because he moves slowly and doesn’t really know how to talk about his feelings. A little grace as he navigates a new kind of relationship with way different rules than the other kinds goes a long way, and with it, he warms up quickly to some of the perks that non-platonic affection and intimacy allow him. He tends to speak more with his gestures and actions than what he says, so never mistake a lack of words for a lack of feeling—he feels a lot, and he just needs to figure out what do with it all!

Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans): Most likely to make the first move, but… he has no charm whatsoever, and a very direct approach that might be a little off-putting. …Then again, ‘weird guy rizz’ alone might at least (somehow) score him a date, or two, or three, and you could go from there. He’s committed from the jump and puts as much thought and care and meticulous planning into your relationship as any high-profile political assassination he’s ever managed…which is probably something he shouldn’t say to you, another one of those awkward, off-putting things… He has his issues, of course—secrecy, insecurity, emotional constipation—but he always takes you very seriously and never wants to lose esteem in your eyes. You are someone he doesn’t want to lose.

Hunter (Swapfell Fruition Papyrus): Yeah, he’s taking the initiative and doing it well, he’s a good flirt, fun, and persistent, and he has a way of getting people to go home with him against their better judgment—hey, he doesn’t mind being a guilty pleasure and in fact, maybe he could be yours…? As far as a relationship goes, he doesn’t take too much seriously, so it’s bound to be pretty casual for awhile, like a game of tug-of-war played with a (poorly-behaved) dog, back and forth, give and take, just a fun game you both play. …However. At some point, a switch will flip in his head when he decides he’s your ride-or-die, full commitment and no more playing games about it. This could happen at basically any point, very early in your relationship or very late. He cannot tell you when it will flip, and nothing you do or don’t do will influence the flip, because neither he nor anyone else has any control over the switch. Such are the pitfalls of trying to romance a heavily-mindfucked former assassin, but you two will figure it out eventually.

Kohl (Descendtale Sans): It’s complicated. Honestly, he’s probably so deeply in denial that he’s into you that it’ll take a Category 5 Inciting Jealousy Incident to get his head out of his ass about it make him admit his feelings. He’s a bit of a pigtail-puller if he likes you, but he’s also a kind of a pigtail-puller if he doesn’t like you, so you’ll want to keep an eye out for the distinction of him seeking you out or spending time with you on purpose—he tends to remove himself from situations where humans are involved as soon as it’s feasible, so if he’s lingering around you, or coming to find you, or seeming to make a deliberate nuisance of himself as soon as someone else has your attention, he might be a little bit interested. If you’re not content to wait for him, you may need to do what he does and needle the hell out of him until you make him admit it but don’t do so lightly—he’s like a mousetrap, if you spring him, you’re stuck with him, he’s yours and good luck returning him without the receipt. In a relationship, he’ll keep up his hassling and assorted shithead behaviors, but there’s a softening towards you and he will actually be capable of some tender, intimate moments. …Some.

Bram (Descendtale Papyrus): Definitely making the first move and just enough of a gentleman to not come on too strong… At least not at first—it wouldn’t do to scare you away right off the bat! There might be some pitfalls a bit later on because he is probably going to want to move a little faster in the relationship than you do, even if you’re a fast mover yourself, but that’s just the abandonment issues talking. He’s very sweet and responds well to constructive criticism about his pacing issues, such as ‘It is too soon to talk about living together’ or ‘I’m not ready to get married until…’ Mostly his concern is that you are happy and comfortable and enjoy spending time with him! Because he enjoys spending time with you and he wants to be able to do that a lot! (You see? He said ‘a lot’ instead of ‘forever’ that time, he remembered when you said that sounded like ‘some horror movie shit’!) In any case, he’s very affectionate and accommodating in a relationship and with maybe some steps taken to mitigate the separation anxiety, he’s a loving and attentive partner for as long as you’ll have him.

#your-pumpkin-universe #headcanons #transcendtale #ascendswap #underfell fruition #swapfell fruition #descendtale

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megumi-fm · 3 months

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this week fortnight on megumi.fm ▸ the last leg

is that a pun referring to my aching ankle? yes. is resting at home for another week gonna ruin my mental health? yes. but am I exaggerating and throwing a tantrum for something that's probably not a big deal? also yes.

📋 Tasks

💻 Internship // progress tracker ↳ biopython model replication ✅ ↳ code for obtaining single fasta from overlapping sequences ✅ ↳ running HMMer and superfamily script✅ ↳ output analysis 🔁 ↳ literature review on transport proteins 🔁 ↳ transport protein family analysis 🔁 🎓 Uni ↳ our paper is finally out! there's a doi and everything now <3 it's not open access though :/// I might do some totally legal things to ensure more people can read it ↳ collected the hardcopy of my LOR ↳ collected my gradecard ↳ visited my advisor and updated her on stuff 🩺Radiomics Project ↳ radiomic features finalized✅ ↳ data cleanup 🔁

📅 Daily-s

🛌 consistent sleep [14/14] 💧 good water intake [14/14] 👟 exercise [/14] just basic stuff to maintain ankle mobility

Fun Stuff this week

💗i went to uni to watch one of my friends present something to the juniors! then I spent the afternoon chatting with my guide and later on went window shopping with my best friends (in retrospect i should not have done this because my ankle got infinitely worse the next day and now I'm stuck resting at home for an additional two weeks) 🎮playing undertale with @muakrrr 📺 ongoing: Marry my Husband, Cherry Magic Th, Perfect Propose, Doctor Slump, Flex X Cop 📺 binged: Blueming, Roommates of Poongduck 304 📹 Started watching Going Seventeen // so I've been listening to SVT for a while now and I did watch their Don't Lie II eps like two years ago but I never really checked anything else... however, considering that I'm stuck at home and that @zzzzzestforlife (who has impeccable taste) has mentioned it often on their posts, I decided to check out GoSe properly and. wow. I started with their mystery episodes [fav scenes under cut] and now I'm watching GoSe2020 in chronological order and !!!!!! The concepts, the storylines, the acting, the humour, the editing, even the subtitles are all so so good. I've been watching this show for two weeks now and I am now officially a cubic <3

📻 This week's soundtrack

Wk1: The Best of ATEEZ // I've been real obsessed since their 2024 world tour clips started showing up on social media; I was a casual enjoyer up to this point and then I went and checked them out and it's all so dystopian and immersive. My favourites would be Intro: Long Journey (which makes me feel like I'm in Pirates of the Caribbean), the Symphony version of Wonderland (for its musicality and Jungho hitting those notes), MATZ (that is insane in it's the visual storytelling in the MV) and Wake Up (whose performance choreo ended me) Wk2: The Best of BTS // in an attempt to revive a project I abandoned a year ago, I spent wayy too much time curating this playlist to get the most satisfying BTS transitions ever and I can confidently say that I'm nowhere close to my goal T-T but I kind of like the way it is now so I am simply going to give up

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[Feb 12 to Feb 25 ; week 7+8/52 || this was not supposed to be one post but then... idk what happened... I feel very dull lately because of my ankle and just when I thought it was getting better it's become painful again... my friends and parents keep chastising me (and fairly so) for trying to move around even before I fully heal but patience has never been my strong suit. sitting still is really the biggest punishment for a hyperactive ADHD kid like me... i'm sure plenty others have it worse but... yeah... GoSe really carrying my mental health right now ]

my fav GoSe scenes

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the-silentium · 18 days

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What if - Alternate Ending

Masterlist

Pairing: Wrecker x OC.

Words: 12.5k words

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Gore, swearing, halo canon violence, RvB characters, major character death.

A/N: And I am finally back with the promised alternate ending. I've been gone a while, a lot happened since I last posted a chapter here. Mainly, I got a spine surgery and struggled with writer block. Fortunately, I had this chapter 90% done already so I forced myself to finish it, so at least I could share what would have happened if Layla went back to the Halo universe. Please enjoy ~

____________________

Echo had seen some bad missions in his time under General Skywalker's command. A couple of times, the thought that he wouldn't make it out had crossed his mind and urged him to do more; run faster, shoot more droids, watch more closely his and Fives' backs. It had worked fine until the Citadel where he lost everything. Then he was found again and the Batch showed him that there were crazier plans out there that he had yet to experience. He was certain he had felt the caress of death twice as often as he did in his first battalion. Surviving this many times had been a feat he dared not dwell on too much.

He didn't want to dare the odds to get back at them for winning so often. All the time, even. Then again, faith always had a cheap trick up its sleeve. Be it a surprise battalion of droids blocking their escape route or a particularly complex encryption, the Batch was no stranger to those last-second complications.

They pulled through no matter what.

They had to.

Sweat ran down Echo's spine when he hit an unbreakable firewall. He had taken way too long to get to this point and he wasn't even close to accessing the files needed. Who knew hacking into old Republic databases would be so hard for him, a former soldier who dedicated his life to the Jedis and their war. It shouldn't have taken this much time. Every other Republican file he had previously hacked had been rather easy since he knew the configurations and standard structure of the files and encryption.

This one was particularly hard to crack. Impossible even. His concentration wasn't optimal with his brothers fighting the enemy a few feet away, but it wasn't anything he wasn't used to. Cid had been quite vague about the information she was after, she only told them where to hack and requested a whole unencrypted file.

Sure, he had tried to export the data onto an external drive to work on the encryption later, however, the security system interlaced with the requested code made sure that everything would be deleted as soon as he moved, copied, or even open a single file.

"Better be worth the credits." He mumbled under his breath. Infiltrating a top-secret Republic base that was coincidentally deep within Empire control was nothing to take lightly. She better pay them well on this one.

He forced his way through another trail in hope of finding something that would satisfy their employer. Bits and pieces of research passed through his fingers like sand. He saw the information passing through his mind but could never get a hold of it. That device had been an extremely important asset for the Jedis to put so much effort into hiding every drop of information about it.

Spatial manipulation. The words disappeared out of his reach before he could focus on them. Frustrated, he pushed again, opened doors, and forced his way in by destroying firewall after firewall.

Teleportation. He nearly got a grasp of this one, but the file erased itself before he could disable the security protecting the data.

Echo groaned. He felt like a pawn being pushed around. Played and mocked. That is until he found a back door. A breach in the security system. He smirked. Finally, he had found it.

//Activation?

The question floated through his brain and the clone felt a new wave of adrenaline rush through his veins.

//No.

He couldn't know for sure what he would be activating.

His curiosity on the matter was crushed when a door behind him closed abruptly and all members of the Bad Batch formed a barrier between him and the sealed-off door.

"Disconnect yourself." Hunter turned to face him momentarily. Echo could hear the strain in his voice. He had taken too long to fulfill his goal. "We're leaving."

Echo hesitated. He was torn between obeying orders and letting go of the only progress he had made. It wasn't only their bounty that they were abandoning, but important Jedi research. Those findings could perhaps help the fighters who dared face the Empire. The soldier deep within his genes wanted to fight that oppressing enemy, even when they clearly couldn't in their actual situation, not with Omega amongst them who could get hurt at every corner.

With a heavy sigh, Echo disconnected from the system and joined his brothers.

"We have to shoot our way out."

He could hear Hunter's inner conflict. They had all agreed that Omega should remain with Cid, but she had another idea in mind. How the kid avoided Hunter's detection was still a mystery. One thing was certain, the sergeant was beating himself over it and they were all worrying for their younger sibling's wellbeing.

Echo moved behind Omega whose sheepish expression had long ago morphed into a focused one. She was ready to follow orders. If only she had done the same hours ago.

"Perhaps we won't have to." Tech frowned when he analyzed the security feed displayed on his datapad. "They are retreating."

"They are?"

Dread filled Echo at the possibilities a strategic retreat could mean. None of them were good.

"It would seem that they used our defensive position to their advantage. While we were here, another squad trapped the power supply room with explosives."

"We have to lea-"

"I'm afraid we don't have time." He showed them the live feed of the generator room, the detonator showing a meager six seconds.

Frenetically, Echo jumped and connected himself back to the systems to force his way back to the only thing that his mind could think of.

//Activation?

Spatial manipulation. The typed words flashed behind his eyelids. Teleportation.

Echo swallowed the lump blocking his throat. Please take us back to the ship.

//Activation?

//Yes.

_______________

Echo groaned when fingers poked him in the face. He felt sick. Not that sickness he got when he ate something bad, but the kind when Tech was piloting like a madman on spice. Motion sickness.

His ears were slightly ringing. He could hear Omega's voice over the noise. She called out to him in such worry that his eyes shot open in alarm. He looked at her upside-down figure, noted the tears gathering in her eyes, and immediately forgot the stiffness in his muscles to pull her into a reassuring hug.

"What did you do?" Crosshair walked up to them. He nearly sounded accusing, which didn't sit well with Echo.

“I activated the program.” He explained with his eyes still closed in the hope to chase away the ache growing in his skull. “I don't know what it was, but the files mentioned a teleportation device. I thought it could get us out of there.” And if Crosshair was still there to jab at him, then it must have worked, right?

A short sense of relief washed over him at the thought that he managed to save his siblings from their imminent death. Slowly, the clone opened his eyes and took in Omega’s state. She still clung to him, her own eyes shut tightly and a hand pinching her nose. He thought he felt her shake, but that could also have been Crosshair nudging him.

"So you activate anything you can touch? Guess we're stuck in the middle of nowhere because of your amazing plan, Echo." The sniper remarked with a sneer.

"Better that than being dead." He shot back, annoyed. This was another obstacle, nothing they didn't usually deal with. Sure, with the Empire lurking around everything was one thousand times more difficult, but not impossible.

“Cut it off.” Hunter’s voice lacked any real command. It sounded like he was entranced, focussing on something else. Curious, Echo looked over Omega’s head.

His stomach fell.

Skeletons lingered on the ground in sickening puddles of what Echo assumed once was their flesh and organs. It soaked up the fabric of torned clothes and broken armor. The armor was a simplistic design and offered way less cover than the clone's armor. It reminded him of the armor worn by the Kota's militia. He also could recognize a human skull under the sideways helmet. His heart jumped in his chest at the thought that a Jedi General could have been here, or could still be around.

The overall atmosphere was heavy. Heavier than what they were used to on the battlefield or on Kamino. Whatever device the Jedis were working on was either dysfunctional or came into use too late. Surely, they had entered specific coordinates into their programming with a purpose, one that the clone was certain was good.

"I would say that the battle occurred years ago," Tech informed them, still leaning over the closest dead body. He tapped away at his vambrace, analyzing the data he recorded. "The threat is long gone."

"What's that?" Omega whispered under her breath, catching everyone’s attention.

Echo’s stomach rose to his throat.

Unknown aliens lay on the floor in dry, blue puddles, their mummified bodies surrounded by small cylindrical objects and what looked to be an unknown type of blaster. Never before had he seen species looking like those.

One of them was tall, bipedal, and had blueish armor covering its lizard-like body. Four mandibles formed its mouth, their sharp teeth in full display. Four digits were closed around a purple item that looked very much like a weapon of some sort.

Others were smaller, more or less reptilian-like. One of the species had a thicker build, its skin a dark purple shade. Some of them had masks over the bottom half of their faces while others didn’t, showing a series of sharp, pointed teeth. Their arms seemed oversized compared to the rest of their bodies, and full of small barbs that Echo was certain were sharp enough to cut flesh.

The last specie he noticed was lean and muscular, their bodies covered by scales and feathers. Their avian-looking mouth was full of sharp teeth and ended on a hooked beak.

Tech approached the tallest alien, scanning it over. Instinctively, Echo waited for Tech’s imminent info dump of the unknown species. He remained silent.

Echo frowned. It was unusual for his brother to keep quiet on unfamiliar knowledge. He was always keeping them as informed of their enemies or environment as possible to keep the drawbacks as low as possible. This was a first. Was it possible that his know-it-all brother was at a loss?

With a quick look around, Echo noticed that the room was filled with bodies. Way above a hundred of them, humans and aliens alike. What looked like ships were stationed not too far from them, their class foreign to him.

"Karking hell…" Crosshair's whisper gave him goosebumps. Something was seriously wrong if Crosshair of all people was taken aback.

Added to Tech’s unusual behavior…

"I…” Echo’s head snapped in Tech’s direction as soon as he heard the hesitation in his voice. A cold sweat ran down his spine. “Don’t think we are in the right universe anymore."

His heart skipped a beat. What could Tech even mean? Did he mean systems? The silence following the statement was deafening. Echo didn't understand why no one was correcting Tech or even asking for clarifications. What he said literally made no sense.

"Those are Covenants." Echo frowned at Tech’s words. He couldn't recall ever hearing this term before.

"Covenants?" He asked, at a total loss.

Tech hesitated and looked at Hunter. Echo didn’t know if it was for guidance or confirmation, but he received none from the sergeant who remained fixed on the alien laying at his feet.

"Aliens from another dimension. Layla's dimension." Tech briefly looked at him before returning to look over the body of the imposing alien.

Even though his brother had said it like it was the most logical thing in the universe, Echo knew that Tech often overlooked that not everyone was well-versed in random details and specifics. This fact was accurate the majority of the time. This time around though, Echo couldn't stop but notice that only he and Omega were confused about the whole another dimension thing.

Also, the name was familiar. He knew he had heard it before. Was it during one of their many nights at 79s? Or from the GAR? Deep within himself, he knew the name belonged to someone powerful. The word impressive also came to mind. He heard Fives calling that name in his head, his voice full of amusement. I've never seen the General as close to a heart attack as when you've slashed that spider droid down, Layla!

"Wait. Layla, the freelancer with a light sword?" He hadn't thought of her in forever. She had left their battalion and soon after he got caught at the Citadel.

"Yes." Hunter snapped out of it and scratched the back of his neck. "A space-traveling device sent her to our universe and the Jedi repaired it to send her back. Must have been the same program that you activated." To Echo's relief, there was no anger in his voice, only worry which was not much better.

He would have believed that his brothers were playing an elaborate plan on him if only there weren't litteral bodies and unknown aliens scattered around him at this very moment. Space-travel was a crazy concept, but he also couldn't explain how the Force worked.

"So, those Covenants, what are they?"

"Aggressive species that are at war with mankind,” Tech explained. “I, unfortunately, don't have much information on them other than the very basics." He grabbed a device from a nearby alien body and stood up. It looked awfully like a droid-popper.

"The basics?"

Tech glanced momentarily at Omega. A flash of worry quickly disappeared behind the glare of his glasses and he moved his attention back to the purple sphere in his possession.

"We should avoid them as much as possible in order to remain… whole. And alive." That he had figured out by himself. "Our best chances of survival would involve finding Layla."

Hunter hummed. "I agree, but eh last I heard, her coming back here meant a near-death sentence." His sergeant approached Tech and reached out to the round device. Right before he managed to take the item from Tech's hands, the engineer pushed a button on the side of it. The device was instantly engulfed in blue fumes and a high-pitched noise filled the room.

“Tech!” Hunter’s yell covered Echo’s sharp breath intake. He might not know what this device was but a word rang in his head. Explosive.

In a heartbeat, Tech threw the device as far as he could while Wrecker grabbed Omega to hide her behind his body. In a crouch, Echo looked as the device bounced on top of a crate, stuck to the side of a ship, and exploded in a flash of blue-white light, charring the metal and the bodies within its detonation zone.

“This was unexpected.” Tech matter-of-factly broke the stunned silence that fell onto their squad.

“Was it? This is a battlefield!” Hunter yelled, his arms open to his sides to show his surroundings.

“I meant that the grenade stuck to the ship, but not to the crate. Or even to my hand.” He further explained after sparing a quick glance at his hand. “But back to Layla. Your assumption is accurate, although she did mention that this universe was desperate to win after more than two decades of war. I am almost positive they would not dispose of a capable soldier like her. She might have been reconditioned– in the literal sense of the word, not the Kaminoan way. Or even sent to another hopeless mission."

With a groan, Hunter dropped it.

"Let's assume that she theoretically is still alive, how do you plan on contacting her?" Crosshair asked from his spot at the back of the group, his eyes trained on the upper levels of the hangar.

"Our comms are void of any outside signals, so we cannot reach her through her GAR-issued channel." While using his scanner, Tech ventured farther away from them and away from the ships.

“Could we try to reach her through their comms?" Wrecker wondered.

With a move of his head, Hunter ordered them to follow Tech’s lead. Wrecker moved Omega into the crook of his elbow to keep her as free of the gore as possible. There was no way she could escape the smell even if she had closed her eyes to keep from seeing more remains and pressed her face to Wrecker's neck. The least they could do was to make sure she wouldn't come in contact with any of it.

Echo walked behind the two of them, his blaster at the ready. He managed to calm down his mind when he noticed that their feet were the only marks left on the sticky, gory crust caked on the floor. It reassured him to think that the enemy was long gone.

“It wouldn’t be a good idea to send a comm-wide message in the hope to get to her. Many things could go wrong. She mentioned that she had to learn Basic, which means that the only thing others would understand would be her name, drawing attention to her. Additionally, we could be perceived as a threat for having infiltrated their comms or even-”

“We got it Tech.” Hunter cut him off. “You sound like you have a plan.”

With a nod, Tech stepped over a skeleton. “This is because I do have one.”

“What is it?” Crosshair pushed.

“I might be mistaken, but if my theory is correct, we should find the remains of Layla’s squad in this complex. Squads share a closed line, which would be a safer way to attempt communicating with her.”

“Oh.” Wrecker’s step faltered. Echo frowned in worry.

“And if your theory is wrong?” Crosshair asked.

“Then we’ll have to go comm-wide and hope for the best. But do not worry, I am fairly certain that this battlefield is the result of Operation: LEVIATHAN.”

“How do you know?”

“Kai told me more about it.”

Tech took them into a hallway, his steps careful, but definite. How he managed to look over the scene without faltering made Echo wonder if he had not already seen this very place.

"Alright. I don't sense anyone around here but let's stay alert, boys." Hunter cut to the front line and with a shake of his head to clear his mind of all this carnage, he walked deeper into the compound.

They soon reached a junction and followed Tech's directions through the left corridor, toward the nearest power source he could detect. The battle must have been heavier here. Sections of the walls were missing, pink shards covered the floor and creaked under their boots, dark stains covered the standing walls and they had to step over an alarming quantity of bodies. The more they progressed, the more Omega had to press her hand to her mouth and nose to keep the smell away.

Echo looked into the nearest hole in the white wall. His eyes recognized more human remains and transparisteel covering the floor. Some skeletons, Echo noticed, didn’t have any armor or blaster, leading him to the conclusion that those victims were civilians. The clone could count at least a dozen in the hallway.

They looked for what felt like hours, up a few floors then down again, until Hunter brought them outside through a hole in a wall. Green grass greeted them. The field wasn't level, a clear clue that a battle once raged. The multiple craters in the dirt were akin to heavy artillery damage, the buildings they just exited seemed like they had subsided some damage with their burned spots marked into their cream-colored exteriors. A majority of the broken windows and vehicle wrecks were beginning to be claimed by the environment.

Echo heard wiggling before he saw Omega jump off Wrecker’s arms.

"Stay close." He warned, still unable to trust this place even though Hunter didn't detect anyone around.

She nodded and latched onto Wrecker's hand who was busy looking at the scenery around him. The sun was shining high in a clear blue sky. The soft waves of the nearby ocean lapped at the beach, offering some calm to the carnage site. Omega grabbed a handful of golden sand before letting the grains fall between her fingers with wide, amazed eyes.

A sudden sound drew the clones' immediate attention. Every blaster turned to the source, a column of water that leaped from the ocean fell back into it. Following the water jet, a set of gray-blue tails breached the water, sweeped into the air and returned to the depths.

"What was that?" Omega asked, her eyes even bigger than before.

"An aquatic creature of some sort." He answered as best he could. Judging by the size of the tails, the beast must be humongous.

"Wrecker, Echo!" Hunter's voice sliced through the comms. "Stay closer."

Sure enough, the other half of their group had ventured farther ahead and were now standing before four floating objects. In a jog, Echo joined his brothers with Wrecker and Omega in tow. Now closer, he noticed that the objects were in fact helmets held on top of weapons shoved into the ground. Graves.

Tech already had one helmet in hands and plugged into his datapad. The engineer typed away in concentration while Echo analyzed the rest of the scene. He didn't want to touch any of the helmets, feeling like this would be disrespectful to the fallen. The grass had already grown back over the graves, however the length did not match his surroundings, letting him know that bodies were now resting beneath their feet.

In the corner of his eyes, he noticed Omega holding one of the helmets. He was tempted to ask her to put it back, but the softness of her fingers as she lightly traced the heavy damage fracturing the visor and metal as well as the deep sadness in her eyes pulled him to a stop. She knew what she was doing and did not take any of it lightly. He then remembered that despite being stuck in a lab on Kamino, she knew war too. Only, her angle was different than theirs.

Omega turned the bucket and grabbed a colorful flimsi from within. She wowed and showed them a picture of five humans in weird blacks. A black-haired woman stood behind three men and a woman. She had them all in a hug from behind while they all smiled. The red-headed woman showed her fingers in a V motion, a blond man hit his fist to the palm of his other hand while the two remaining men sat relaxed, one holding a knife while the other held a box with a big, red cross on it.

"It's not holographic." Omega pointed out while rotating the picture in all angles. "The colors are nice."

Without a word, Wrecker slowly took the item from her hands and turned it over to analyze it further.

How his brother handled the picture caught Echo’s attention. There has been only a handful of times when his brother has been that cautious about anything. Even more curious, he was not looking the whole picture over, he was focussed on a single spot.

"Wrecker? Are you okay?"

His brother blinked like he just woke up from a dream and looked at him. "Eh.. yeah. I mean… not really. But I'll be fine."

"Are you sure, big guy?"

"Yeah…" The way he trailed off was so uncharacteristic of his usual cheery attitude that Echo had a sudden urge to touch him in hope to convey his support. He was still pondering about the significance of the picture for his brother when Wrecker carefully folded the flimsi on the existent fold line and safely tucked it in his own helmet, leaving Echo dumbfounded.

________________

Tech examined the side of the helmet and sure enough, the cards with the triangle in the middle were painted in white over the deep blue shade of the armor.

They were Layla's teammates. She had been here and had buried them herself. A quick look around confirmed that no other graves were dug and it couldn't be a coincidence that these were all members of the same team. Her team. He remembered her breakdown and wondered if being thrown back where it all happened, seeing their bodies and burying them had broken her all over again.

Tech remembered the carnage they saw earlier and wondered if that was why she had kept them at bay so long. He had noticed her effort into keeping walls around herself, walls that they ultimately tore down because solving impossible tasks was what they did best. They were witnessing the outcome of the worst day of her life and some small part of him understood where she came from.

He got to work on the electronic panels of the helmet, connecting it to his vambrace to access the comms system. It was harder than he remembered without Kai translating the unknown language for him. He hoped that the communication channels were coded the same as back then, he remembered the way to gain access to the correct network and which channel he had to connect their own to in order for Layla to hear and talk with them.

"I'm in," Tech informed the team. He couldn't help but glance at Wrecker in wonder at what would happen next.

________________

It had been a while since she last saw this planet. Last time was when she had used the cube to flee the despair ever growing in her chest. She couldn't say that she missed it one bit. Not after everything that happened there and everything that followed.

That planet was tainted with blood and haunted by painful memories.

"Did you fucking hear what I said?" The accusatory voice next to her was way too loud for her to possibly ignore.

She looked at Gates without a word.

"Of course not, since when do you listen to me?" Gates scoffed in offense. "Do you fucking know how often the spaghetti meatballs is on the menu in that damn army? Once in a blue moon, that's how often! I'd almost forgotten how that damn sauce tasted like and lemme tell you, it wasn't as good as my mom's cooking but compared to the other shits they give us to eat, it was like a fucking filet mignon." His finger pointed at her accusingly and Layla briefly wondered if he was able to shoot with his left hand. "Only had one bite when you fucking showed up and ordered us after you. Whatever we're doing here Regan, it better be good. Like killing-those-Covenant-fucks-for-good good."

At this point Layla couldn't tell if the fire in her blood was originating from Gates' tirade, her first trip back to Bounty after her cowardly escape from her heartbreak or the fact that Kai intercepted a weak incoming signal from the Deltas channel.

She couldn't even believe she had once appreciated that soldier. Now, all she could think about was different ways to shut him up.

War changes everyone, she soberly thought.

It has never been said explicitly, but Layla knew he was part of ONI's plan to keep a close eye on her. He wasn't the one reporting abnormal behaviors to the higher ups, Ortez was, being the silent observant and extremely by-the-book soldier that he was. It only turned out that those two survived a crazy amount of crazy missions together and for this reason were never separated. She had tried to have them transferred to another squad, but they were now a trio until death did them apart.

So far Ortez had had an easy job. She never did anything out of UNSC's standards. She killed Covenants, ate and slept when needed and attended briefings. She had destroyed the cube as soon as she had regained consciousness on Bounty and became aware of her surroundings, and never talked about it again. In order to protect the Galaxy that offered them shelter, Kai had gone ahead and wiped every bit of information about the last two years. The knowledge of another conquerable universe was safely hidden within Layla's mind, where ONI could never access it. As far as ONI knew, she had survived two desolate years on Bounty, living off the meager rations of the compound until her AI managed to fix a comm channel strong enough to reach Command and request an evac.

The pelican wasn't fully grounded, yet Layla pushed the button to lower the ramp. Her body stiffened in anticipation of a worrying hand that would reach out and stop her from jumping the last meters separating her from the surface, but it never came. She ignored the pain pinching her heart and jumped.

She forced her body into a false sense of clear determination and made her way through the street separating her from the complex. Memories tried to destabilize her with their vivid screams and scarlet tints. She could faintly hear the Marines following her steps, plasma bolts raining all around them. She reached the back corner of the building and stopped.

Red. So much red.

"Take your time." Layla's breath deepened as she acknowledged Kai's words. The Spartans weren't with her yet, she had time to settle. The DMR in her hands stopped shaking, her jaw ached when she released the tension, the tingles in her feet faded away and her mind cleared of all the fog keeping it hostage. There was nothing she could do now to change the scenery on the beach.

With a final grounding breath, she turned the corner. Four graves stood out from the peaceful nature, every helmet in place like the day she left them. Cautiously, Layla made her way to them, fully expecting to find an elaborate trap set up by a Zealot with the help of a Huragok, their favorite engineers. There was nothing but untouched helmets and guns.

She kneeled before them while keeping an eye out for signs of trouble. The grass around the graves had been crushed recently. Someone had been here and sent out a signal using one of the helmets. Why, she had no idea. The only thing she knew for sure was that it involved her personally, the comm line that was used was closed to anyone that was not a Delta.

Her finger tensed on the trigger. Three yellow spots entered the radar's field, followed by two red signatures. Allies with enemies.

Yellow spots didn't make any sense with Gates and Ortez still behind, but she did expect enemies.

"Could those three use the Delta's signature to alter their own?" She wondered under her breath.

"Negative. I looked deeper into their signatures and the allies are identified as 99-1, 99-2 and 99-4, not Deltas." Kai informed her.

Layla's heart stopped. Was she dreaming?

She glanced up and ghosts looked right back at her. She didn't dare blink, in fear that they would fade or not, she was not sure which.

Multiple things happened when the Bad Batch came into view. Layla's eyes widened in surprise, a weak, fluttery feeling bubbling in her chest. Her joy was quickly crushed by a more gripping feeling that left her nauseous. Guilt gripped at her stomach and threatened to topple her over at the sheer intensity of it.

That was, until Gates and Ortez who had jogged after her the whole way lifted their weapons towards the clones.

Out of pure reflex, Layla's arms shot up to lift both guns towards the sky, her own clattering to the earth. Gunshots exploded into her ears, along with the soldiers' surprised gasps, a high-pitched yelp and Gates' colorful language when both guns slipped from their grasp due to the speed of her intervention. Out of fear she did put more strength into her move than necessary, she had to give them that.

"What the hell are you doing Regan? That's fucking Insurrectionists!" Gates hissed.

She grabbed his wrist when he reached for his pistol. This time she put some effort into controlling her strength.

"Lower your weapons." Her snarl surprised even herself. "They're not Insurrectionists."

"And how would you know that? Civillians don't walk around in fucking armor." He fought to pull his arm out of her grip. She momentarily tightened her grip in warning before releasing him.

"I fought with them before. They're on our side."

She looked back at the clones, took in their defensive stances, their weapons pointing at the ground but ready to aim at them at any moment and sighed. She could already feel the heartache creeping in, burning her as fiercely as the tears streaming down her cheeks.

The urge to turn on her heels and walk away was also becoming more prominent with every passing second. Like the coward that you are. Her teeth sank through the tender flesh of her lip and drew blood. Man up and face the consequences of your actions.

"Stay here." She ordered her men before crossing the space between her and her old team. She could not flee this time. She still remembered the reasons behind her departure and the Spartan still suffered every time she thought about them. A borderline painful heartbeat squeezed her chest when her eyes landed on a particular clone.

She forced her gaze away and noticed a new soldier amongst them, one of the two that her armor detected as enemies. She took in the kama and the cybernetic arm. No clone she had met before had those attributes. Was he a new defective clone? A sad kind of joy spread through her, he was in the right team, she personally knew it.

And they overcame your departure. Because you are expendable. She swallowed hard.

Despite the thick layer of titanium covering her body, their gazes burned holes into her like she was bare before them. All the feelings she had felt that night when she held the cube in her hands for countless hours came back in a swing. Uselessness. Shame. Despair. Disapointment. Now, she had to add nervousness to the list. How had they taken her betrayal? Despite asking herself that question every day for a majority of a year, she never got an answer. Right at the moment, she found that she might have been better without knowing at all.

But fleeing wasn't an option anymore, was it? She couldn't run. Not again. Not this time. Maybe if she had forgotten all about them she wouldn't have thought more about shooting them down as Insurrectionists, but she knew who they were. They once shared a bond and Layla had let herself care for them. Deeply. She might be as nervous and scared as the day the Covenant invaded her home planet, but she wasn't about to let another of her friends die. Instead she pushed down the lump in her throat and stopped at a more than reasonable distance.

"What are you doing here?"

She mentally winced at her own words. She hadn't intended to sound so harsh. Or bothered. Her choice of words was even worse. All her brain could think of was are you all okay or I'm so glad to see you all again, because she was relieved to know that the Clone War hadn't claimed their lives even though it still could.

She had been worried. She had also been fighting every second she had been back, be it against the Covenants or ONI– not that this was the Batch's fault, the final choice had been hers after all– but she was exhausted and their presence here meant complications that she would have to deal with.

"It's good to see you again, Layla." Sergeant Hunter moved his gaze from Ortez who didn't need to be told twice to lower his weapon and settled on her, his own trigger finger relaxing slightly.

Her mind stopped for a second. A blissful second where her worries faded away and she could almost see herself back at the Marauder's entrance, marching up the stairs after another successful mission. Oh how she missed that ship. If she was honest, the crate in the Marauder's hangar was way better than sharing a bunk room with Isaac Gates.

Her fist closed on thin air. She couldn't get distracted. Not during a crucial moment like this one.

Although…

"Likewise." She replied, her eyes darting on the Sergeant's right to find a familiar helmet staring right back at her. "I take it that the Jedis lied then? They were supposed to destroy the cube's data."

It was a blessing that the Spartans beside her couldn't understand Basic. An even bigger one was that she hadn't forgotten how to speak the otherworldly language after not using it for a year.

"They had it stored in a securised archive room. Nearly killed us to get the info." Sergeant Hunter explained.

She raised an eyebrow in confusion. "You stole from the Jedis?"

"That's a long and complicated story. The Jedis are dead."

Time stopped completely around them. This couldn't be possible. It didn't make sense. She thought back to the Council who welcomed her into their world, to the alien Jedis who patiently tried to coax her into being comfortable around them, their mind tricks and their knowledge and their wisdom and everything! General Kenobi and Tano and Koon and all of those cute apprentices and for God's sake, even Skywalker! Were they really dead? She deeply hoped that they were not.

And Crosshair? Where was he?

"The Clone War is over then." Was all she managed to say. She could not acknowledge more loss. Not right now. At least she could rejoice that the clones' lives were not put at risk anymore, soldiers without war and droids to hunt them.

"So Regan, what's happening?" Gates called from his spot 12 meters away. "Not everyone speaks whatever language you're all babbling. Seriously. I've never heard that kind of shit before."

Layla ignored Gates' questions, he could use his equipment to listen in and speculate all he wanted. Although she had to admit that his intervention was exactly what she needed to get her head back in the game.

"So the cube's data sent you here? Do you know how to get back?" She sure hoped they knew although she was also aware that should they have a plan to go back, they would have done it by now. It seemed that they needed her to do it.

"We were hoping you could get us back." Sergeant Hunter breached the tight formation with a single step forward.

She swallowed hard. "I destroyed the cube. There's no way out of–" Layla frowned at the sight of a young girl peeking behind Wrecker's form. "Here."

Why they had a kid with them was a mystery, one that she wasn't certain she wanted uncovered. Maybe the clones were in the middle of a rescue mission when it all happened. That must be it. A weird rescue mission that also involved stealing data from an archive room.

She forced herself to drop it. This was not important.

"We got here without it. Could Kai use the program Echo activated to send us back?" Tech wondered.

Her eyes widened. It had been so long since she had heard that name. She remembered the kind clone who offered her an opening for her escape of 79s; she had once considered him something close to a friend. What she didn't remember was the cybernetic arm. She bit her cheek in an effort to keep herself from asking what happened.

"It could be possible depending on the program, the tools required to make it work and whether or not Echo remembers the coding." She told them. Tech sorted through his pouches to find the AI connector he developed back then.

"I got my name, but nothing else." Kai popped up into her HUD. "Did I know them?" He wondered, curiosity written all over his face.

"You did." She confirmed.

"What did I do exactly?" Tech asked, frowning in confusion.

"Sorry, I was talking to Kai. He had to wipe his memory to keep your world off the radar, so he's a lil' lost." She explained to the clone as she pulled the AI chip from her helmet and Kai appeared in her palm. "Override command: Plan 99."

Kai's holographic body pixelated for a few seconds, the wave of locked information now crashing over him. He stilled with a hand on his head and a frown. His eyes moved from the ground to the men before him and a smile stretched his lips.

"Tech! Hunter! You're all alright! Wrecker! Hi!" He beamed and Layla felt a weight she was not aware was there lift from her shoulders. "Oh. Is Crosshair ok?" He worriedly looked around their ranks to find the grumpy clone.

"He is fine." Tech reassured him. "Although I can't say he is pleased by our current situation."

"That's understandable." The small AI grinned when she handed over the chip.

It was curious how she hadn't hesitated to surrender the AI to the clones when she had once felt betrayed by those very same men and yet she would never pass him to Gates or Ortez, not even for a second.

"Hey! Regan! The hell are those guns and what the hell is he doing?" Gates nearly shouted as Tech plugged the other end of the connector in Echo's helmet. She narrowed her eyes in annoyance and curiosity.

"None of your business, First Lieutenant." She called back.

He pursed his lips, a glare burning in his eyes. Ortez grabbed his partner's shoulder when his mouth opened, a clear warning to watch his words. He didn't listen and shook him off. "Is that what weird shit ONI warned us of? Maybe we should just shoot you down for sympathizing with the Insurrectionists."

Layla gnashed. This was a bad situation as it was, she did not need Gates to throw gasoline on the fire. The clones were out in the open and had nowhere to get to cover while she dealt with the threat that was her chaperones if need be. One wrong movement and Crosshair would open fire, starting a shooting mess that she was right in the middle of.

"The Pelican detected three Phantoms entering the atmosphere." Layla cursed at Kai's warning. Why did everything have to go South?

"Three Phantoms incoming." She relayed to her men. Gates cursed loudly.

"We might have triggered some sensors." Ortez pulled Gates back a few steps and put himself between the two. "What are your orders Captain?"

“We’ll take cover in the peripheral buildings to-”

“Her orders? I’m not-”

"First off, they're not Insurrectionists." She advanced towards the daring, orange trimmed Scout who took the tiniest step back. "Second, if you think you can manage three troop drops on your own, then be my guest and shoot me down.” She challenged.

She knew he was aching to do as she said and probably would have if it wasn’t for the fact that three drops were too much for two men and Ortez who grabbed his partner before pulling him towards the nearest exit, groaning and cursing.

With a sigh to let out some frustration, Layla turned towards the GAR soldiers who looked positively on edge.

"Enemies are incoming. I highly recommend that you stay back and let us clear the area. And please, take care of Kai."

"You know us. You know we won't let you fight alone." Hunter crossed the distance separating them, his team in tow.

"I do know you. And, no offense, but I also know that you're outclassed by the Covies. They're not droids, Hunter." She turned her back to them. "And I'm not alone."

A heavy hand fell into her shoulder, preventing her from walking away.

"Let us help."

She gulped, her gaze straight ahead. "What about the kid? You'd put her in danger."

"She's sturdier than she looks." The grip did not waver, nor did it tighten.

With a sigh, Layla relented and motioned them to follow her with a move of her head. "Guess you'll need a small briefing then."

She heard Hunter call for Crosshair on their comms and inform him of the situation. He also ordered his brother to join them as fast as he could, no need to put him at risk of getting jumped by Covenants while alone.

"Your blaster bolts can kill them, however it might require more than one bolt. Keep your stun mode off," She glanced at Hunter out of the corner of her eye. He looked right back at her, a memory of a conversation passing between them. "They won't hesitate to kill you, so you shouldn't either. If you see a small, flashing, purple ball, duck or jump away. That’s a grenade. Don’t try to catch it or kick it, it will stick and blow you to bits.”

Tech hummed. "We encountered this particular explosive. It is interesting that it does not stick to the thrower or certain objects, like it has a mind of its own."

Bewildered, Layla's steps slowed momentarily. "You threw one of those?"

"Yes."

"Were you… attacked?" Kai hadn't found any sign of Covenant activity in the area prior to their landing and she knew that the UNSC had abandoned Bounty for the time being.

"No, I simply desired to test a theory." He pushed his glasses up his nose.

She resumed her pace, following the beacon that was Gates’ rant. "Okay. Well. Eh… a venting coolant keeps it from sticking to the thrower so the person to prime it is safe, but after that, anything made of flesh or metal that gets in contact with it will be stuck. Also, it might not happen, but some troops have a camouflage device like mine. So if the air starts moving, shoot it."

"If they really have the same technology as you, then we'll be fine." Hunter assured her and only then did she remember the effect the camouflage had on him.

They arrived at a crossroad, where the ground was in the process of being trapped by Ortez’s expert hands and a bunch of charges. Gates was occupied scanning the sky.

At that, she showed them the street opposed to Gates’ position. The clones slowly positioned themselves before looking up to get a better look at the Covenant forces gathering in the horizon.

"And why would we listen to you?" Crosshair spat as soon as he joined their ranks, inches away from her face. The venom and disdain in his voice were welcomed by the Spartan.

"All I'm trying to do is keep you alive. I've lost my whole team here once. It won't happen again if I can help it."

"We're not your team, now, are we?" He shot back and despite his face being covered, she knew he was shooting her down with his eyes.

"No you're not." Facing the consequences of rash decisions was always a pain. "Doesn't change that I don't want any of you to die."

She turned around, DMR in hand. Footsteps followed her on her way to the facility's hangar.

"I'm sorry."

She flinched at Wrecker’s tone, so soft and pained. She would take Crosshair’s verbal abuse anytime and would even accept physical retribution with open arms for the pain she put his brothers’ through, but this tone was beyond what she could take.

From experience, she knew it hurt worse than an energy sword stab wound.

"It was my fault, right?" He looked at the ground, his voice wavering slightly.

"It was not." She refuted quickly. "I left because my place is here." Or that’s what I thought.

He groaned. "That's not true, your place was with us. We were a squad and a squad stays together."

Her throat closed. How many times had she hoped to hear those words before she decided to use the cube?

"Now, that's not true either, Wrecker. I remember a time when all of you avoided me whenever we were off duty. I didn't really belong and I thought I'd save the time of asking for a transfe-"

"That's what you thought?" He cut her off, dumbfounded. "It wasn't- we were not avoiding you! We were protecting you! From diseases! We were told to be careful." He walked up to her to the point where her weapon almost touched his chest plate. To the point where she saw her fingerprint on the side of his helmet.

"I got vaccinated." She sighed and forced herself to step back and reach the closest Warthog. "I was protected."

"But Tech said vaccines were not always effective. They helped, but you could still get sick."

She looked back at him and noticed his heterochromic eyes filled with guilt. His helmet was now up on his head, holding perfectly still and Layla had an unconscious thought to pull it down to keep him as protected as possible.

She knew her decision had been rushed and despite the long hours she spent with the cube in her hands, her decision had been half-thinked through. She had acted on emotions. She was a true Regan, her Mama once told her. As impulsive as they came, she had said. One would have thought that she would make good impulsive decisions since it was literally her last name, but as it turned out, it was a warning. Impulsive decisions would be her downfall.

"I-"

The ground shook under the impact of an energy mortar, cutting her off. Layla ducked into the Warthog and tried the ignition. The vehicle roared to life on the third try.

"Jump in!" She pointed at the passenger seat and he promptly joined her. With haste, she reversed out of the hangar and turned them around to regroup with their comrades. Wrecker wowed at the sight of the battlefield awaiting them.

Together, the Phantoms managed to bring a little less than a regiment in addition to three Wraiths. She swallowed hard. Could they defeat 400 Covenants? A Spartan team would be fine, but they were clones from another universe. They were trained soldiers, but they were not trained to kill Covenants. She swallowed hard. They will have to do. They must.

“So, what’s your genius plan, Captain?” Gates asked through the comms with the highest level of sarcasm he ever used with her. Not that she cared. She was more bothered by the quick English-Basic language transitions.

She stopped near their position and got out, Wrecker following her lead.

“Those guys will cover our backs." She pointed at the Bad Batch with her thumb. "We take the Warthog and you drop me as close to those tanks as you can and I'll take care of them before they collapse the buildings on our heads.”

"Wh- a- That's three enemy tanks!" His voice raised in disbelief.

"I can see that."

"Three! We are a recon and infiltration team! Not first liners!"

"Gates-" Ortez tried to calm the man but as expected, it didn’t help much.

"You're batshit crazy, you know that?" Gates cut him off and moved slightly aside to keep eye contact with her. "I mean, Spartans have always been fucking crazy, but you-! Something's very wrong with you! It's like you're actively trying to die and fuck if I'm going to let you take me down with you. I have a fucking family Regan, one that I want to see again and if I fucking die because of you, mark my word I'll haunt your ass 'til you blow your brain out." He ranted, his face going more red with every second.

She looked at him, unamused. Irritation itched at her fingertips. "You're done?"

"No. I fucking hate you." He slammed his helmet back into place.

"The feeling's mutual."

_____________________________

It was pure chaos. He was used to chaos, but this was new. Despite Wrecker being the tallest out of the Batch, a lot of the enemy were towering over him. It was scary. Although it was way scarier to look at Layla fight the aliens head on while he was ordered to fight from the cover of the buildings line.

His feet were tingling in an urge to vault the window and run where she fought mercilessly to protect them. He had a need to join her side and help, and each time he felt the pull getting too strong he had to remind himself of Hunter's warning.

You'll hinder her if you go. It could get her killed.

He knew it was true, that he severely lacked knowledge of this world and in the event that he did join her side, she would be focused on protecting him and not herself.

It wasn’t that she was doing a bad job a protecting herself, she was tearing through the enemy lines like a hot knife through butter, but after a year passed staring down at her fingerprint staining the side of his helmet and hearing her laugh in his dreams, he desperately wanted to fix what his inaction broke.

“Sniper deployment in the left building. The blue-gray one. Fifth floor.” Kai warned them, allowing Crosshair to take down the aliens before they got time to aim at the clones.

Kai had linked the Batch's comms to Layla's so the AI could keep her updated on the aerial space traffic while working on the cube's code along with Echo, amongst other things.

From the comms Wrecker could hear Layla dispatch what sounded like orders to her comrades and unlike earlier, it didn't sound like an argument.

It might have helped appease his mind to know that she was not alone on the front line if only he believed that her teammates would help her in case she needed it. It didn't look like they worked well together when all the orange armored guy did was to constantly snap at her. Even though they fought side by side flawlessly to take down two of the three tanks trying to shoot them down, Wrecker couldn't help but not trust them.

All he could do to offer his support was kill aliens before they could get to her.

He shot down a frenzied alien running towards them with two round devices in hands. An explosion resonated through the air, taking a few aliens down with it. Along with his brothers, they made quick work of the Covenants trying to flank the Spartans.

"Two banshees will be on the battlefield in forty-seven seconds." Kai reported in both languages.

"What's a banshee?" Crosshair and Hunter asked in sync.

"Enemy air support." He explained while Layla was already commanding her troops into what Wrecker thought was a new plan. He heard some resistance over comms which made him hyper aware of the scene before him.

Layla grabbed a weapon off an alien's corpse and ran towards 'Gates'. As warned, two ships flew towards the battlefield, firing at the Spartans as best they could. The weapon in Layla's hand glowed green before she swiftly aimed behind herself and shot the incoming ship. Wrecker's stomach churned as Layla jumped on a shield generated by Gates' armor and using her momentum, he propelled her into the air towards the falling aircraft.

His knees nearly buckled underneath him when she somehow opened the aircraft, pulled an alien out of it and took its place at the commands.

"Wrecker! Focus on the fight." He should have been embarrassed at the fifth reminder to keep focus, but he truly wasn't. His focus, despite his best effort, was constantly drawned klicks away.

In her stolen aircraft, Layla shot some troops until the other ship took chase and managed to land a few hits despite her maneuvers.

“Crosshair.” Wrecker turned to his brother, his heart tight in his chest.

“Already on it.” Came his reply and a few bolts precisely hit the back of the enemy ship. The fourth bolt caused an explosion of the left reactor which allowed Layla to loop around and finish the banshee.

“Thanks, Helljumper.”

“Anytime.”

“Your rear is fuming.” Hunter warned.

“I know.” Wrecker could hear the grin in her voice and found himself grinning back. “Watch this.”

The purple ship sped forward until she reached the active battlefield and it plunged down towards the remaining tank. Wrecker’s grin faded. A last bolt was shot towards the tank, right before Layla’s form jumped out of the vehicle in a free fall. Wrecker heard the tank and aircraft explode, however he couldn’t find any joy in them yet.

“Are you okay?” He asked with worry. That fall was pretty high.

“I jumped from higher, remember?” She reassured him and just then he spotted her running to cover. “I’m fine. Kai, how’s that code going?”

“We’re progressing. I estimate the code to be completed in twenty minutes or so.”

“Great job bud’. Tell me when you’re done.”

“Will do, Captain.” He nodded. "Just to let you know, in order to activate the coding to send them back, we will require a powerful energy source.”

“Any ideas of a suitable power source?” She grunted as she punched an alien that got too close.

“One that will not please Gates and Ortez.”

She scoffed. “Let me deal with them.”

“Then our pelican will do just fine.”

She chuckled over the comms and the hair on Wrecker’s arms rose. How he missed the sound. He realized that the laugh that resonated through his dreams was less endearing than the one he could hear while awake.

As it happened many times that day, Wrecker’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of Layla ducking under the swipe of an energy sword before being tackled and sent flying a few meters back. He heard her breath cutting under the impact and a groan leave her lips when a tall, blue-armored alien materialized out of thin air and kneeled onto her abdomen, snarling at her face.

Wrecker jumped out of the building before he knew it. He ran while shooting at the beast, his mind solely focused on keeping her safe. All he could hear was the blood pumping in his ears, all he could see was the sword shining high into the air, ready to strike down. And then all he saw was blue. Blue blood coated his visor, the sticky substance spurting from where his vibroblade connected to the alien’s neck. He removed the blade and his arm became warm.

He had never been so glad to see blue in his life.

“Are you okay?” He dropped to his knees to assess her condition.

Her hand grabbed his outstretched one and he quickly pulled her up. For a short moment all he could think of was her hand in his, how right it felt. Then a bullet flew past his head and he let go to duck under cover with the Scout.

“Yeah. Thanks for that.” She was already shooting back at the enemy, prompting him to copy her movements. “You should go back to the others.”

“I should. But eh I’ll stay here.” He hoped she wouldn’t order him back.

“I’m sure your Sergeant wants you back, Wreck.”

A long silence stretched the comms line.

“All things considered I think he’s better with you.” Hunter replied. A relieved breath escaped his mouth. He could stay.

“If you say so.” She reluctantly let go and ushered him after her.

Together they cleared a section of the battlefield while the two other Spartans worked half a klick away. Wrecker’s attention was fully captured by the fight, he wouldn’t let anything go wrong, not if he could help it.

It was easy to go back to old habits. He was made for war, to fight on the front lines, not search around for bounties. He was in his element and to add to it, he fought by her side again, the place where he felt he truly belonged.

Less and less enemies shot at them, a majority of their numbers covering the ground, unmoving.

Until a yell came over the comms.

“Hunters!” A gruff voice warned. “Two of them incoming from the North-West.”

Layla groaned.

“You guys take one down, we’ll manage the other.” She ordered. “Wreck, follow me. We got a big guy to settle.”

“A’right!” He dutifully followed her, his blaster at the ready.

“Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll draw its attention while you shoot it in the back. Aim for the tender part, not the armor. They are resistant, so shoot like there’s not tomorrow. And if it turns to you, you take cover.” Her last words were hard. “I mean it. You run and you hide. That cannon will kill you in one hit. I’ll get its attention again and then and only then you come back out to shoot.”

He wasn’t a fan of her being the bait out of the two of them. He would prefer it to be the other way around, but knew better than to voice his concerns. A scene on an explosive field could quickly mean death. “Got it.”

“Let’s go!”

Farther up the street, two beasts marched towards them, their heavy armor gleaming under the sun. Two green spots suddenly glowed from their arms and Wrecker got ready to duck behind a nearby vehicle. One of the two beasts got distracted, multiple shots bouncing off its body. Its attention turned to engage the two Spartans who did a similar tactic as Layla’s. One bait and one shooter.

Wrecker ducked behind the abandoned vehicle, safely avoiding the green plasma bolt flying his way. With small peaks over the metal carcass he waited until the Covenant followed your movements and turned its back on him, exposing the soft part of its body.

Instantly, Wrecker opened fire like instructed. Blue bolts rained on the soft flesh of the alien causing it to stumble slightly and misfire the charging cannon bolt, missing Layla by far. Content with the result, Wrecker rained hell on the beast until it turned around to face him and fired a bolt. The metal body pressed against his back jerked under the impact, sending the clone to his knees. He hurried a look behind and found that Layla had already baited the alien to shoot at her instead.

As he did before, Wrecker jumped back in position and fired. It took several repetitions until the creature fell to its knees and clattered to the ground, unmoving. He couldn’t rejoice in the small win as the enemy troops still crawled around, shooting at Layla like she was the Plague. He gladly returned the shots.

“The code is complete with a coordinate modification.” Kai informed them over the line. “All I need to send them back is a connection to the power core of the pelican.”

“Then lead them there. We’ll join you soon.” Layla ordered as she pulled him after her right as a grenade flew past their heads. The explosion muffled Kai’s answer and caused Wrecker to stumble lightly. He kept as close to her side as he could.

Their earlier conversation kept repeating in the back of his head, how crestfallen she had sounded. She truly believed that she wasn’t one of them and it hurt him more than any wound he subsided during the Clone War. She was important to him and he drove her away without even noticing. He hated his weakness that allowed her to leave them that night. He should have talked to her like he had planned to. Instead he had chickened out and she left.

He swore to never shy away from talking to her. He swore to bare his honest feelings and not hold back ever again. Too much time had already been lost and he doubted he could survive another heartbreak.

So he listened to the small voice that kept telling him that it was now or never.

“You’re coming with us, right?”

She spared him a glance, her weapon still raining shots onto the enemy.

“To the Pelican?”

“Home.”

She paused, frozen for a second. He took over the cover fire.

“Wrecker. My home is-”

“With us.” He assured her. “Always was.”

He saw her hesitate in her movements. His heart leaped in his throat when plasma beams missed her by a hair, and a bolt crashed into her armor’s shield. He pulled her behind some cover.

“I should have told you that before. I wanted to! Really badly! I just- it was- I- I got scared that I would screw up and destroy what we already had and well, it happened anyway. But I realized that you needed me and I let you down and I won’t ever let you down again.” He scrambled to explain.

“We should have this conversation later.” She whispered and moved away from him, causing his heart to leap in fear to lose her again.

“I thought that too a year ago and then the next day you were gone. I need to say that I loved you then and I still do now. I missed you every day and the Marauder hasn’t felt like home in so long because home is you.”

He almost felt out of breath. His heart was beating wildly, his thoughts were scattered everywhere and nowhere at the same time, all he could really think of was whether he had said enough or not, had said the right things or not, of she would leave or not-

“She’s right, Wrecker.” Hunter grunted. “You should have this conversation later.”

“R-right.” Heat flared up his face at the thought that the whole team heard his rant.

“For what it's worth Layla, the Marauder definitely hasn’t felt the same without you sleeping in the cargo hold.” Hunter’s smile could be heard in his voice.

That jolted her out of her trance. She snorted in amusement and her shoulders shook lightly in what Wrecker was sure was silent giggles. Tension eased out of his muscles in response.

“I also missed having someone who truly listens to my informative chatter and who doesn’t cut me off mid-way.” Tech chirped in.

A low grunt filled the line. “Wrecker started pushing us around again.” Crosshair supplied in annoyance.

“Okay, okay, I got the point.” Layla looked around at anything but him, her feet shuffling a little.

Despite his initial embarrassment, Wrecker was glad he blurted everything over the squad comms. He knew his brothers also felt grief over her sudden departure and despite Crosshair’s gruff behavior, he knew for a fact that his brother rumminated on what went wrong. They all did. And now they all followed his lead and offered reminders that she was a part of Clone Force 99 and her presence amongst them was wanted and appreciated.

“The enemy forces are fairly low. We better join the others now before the guys get suspicious of the others lurking around our transport.”

He nodded and followed her lead to join his brothers and sister. Oh. Now that he thought about it, Layla never met Omega. He will love presenting her to his little sibling.

He could now see his squad, Omega safely tucked away in the belly of the ship alongside Crosshair. Tech and Echo worked on the underside, their hands lost within the metal beast. Hunter kept guard, his eyes trained on the horizon.

Layla cursed. “A sensor was tripped. That’s probably Ortez keeping track of me. They’ll be rallying here any second now. Kai, what’s the status?”

“Another minute and I can activate the protocol.” He assured her.

“Good j-” “Cover!”

Wrecker only had a second after Crosshair’s warning to duck. A sniper shot grazed his arm.

“Wrecker!”

An explosion hurt his ears, way too close to his comfort. The blast disturbed his running momentum and sent him tumbling on his hands and knees. He recovered quickly, his blaster aiming to the orange blur exchanging blows with Layla. Both dodged and retaliated in quick succession, staying way too close to one another for Hunter or Wrecker to offer support fire.

If blasters were useless then his fists would do fine.

With a war cry, he charged the duo, fully intending to neutralize her aggressive teammate. Layla ducked under a right hook, leaving a perfect opening to him for a left hit. His knuckles hit a solid light shield instead of a helmet. With a grunt, Wrecker pushed through and hit the shield with powerful blows after powerful blows. Gates spat curses, his feet digging into the dirt in an attempt to keep his ground. He pushed him back, keeping him occupied on him instead of Layla.

He saw her creeping around to attack Gates from the side. Before she could attack, a sniper shot hit her in the leg, earning a cry of pain. Her leg buckled slightly. Gates used her pain-induced hesitation to reach for her and stick a device on her chestplate. She recoiled until her movements stopped completely, her arms stuck mid-air and legs ready to pounce.

“Fuck! Wreck! My armor is locked. I can’t move!” He heard the light panic loud and clear.

“Don’t worry. I got this.” He reassured her.

“I’ll get her.” Hunter added, already running to their position.

Swiftly, Wrecker delivered a kick to the shield, sending the soldier tumbling on his ass. He followed with a punch to the face which connected and broke the black visor. A kick to the abdomen pushed him back from the UNSC soldier who rolled to his feet, a knife in hand.

The blade flew around and Wrecker did his best to avoid it. He grabbed Gates’ wrist in a firm grip, pulled him closer and delivered a left hook. The scout stumbled to the ground, his body going limp for a second. He was about to get back up when a stun shot hit him and he fell back down.

“Time to go.” Hunter pushed him towards the ship, Layla in tow.

Wrecker followed right next to her, close enough to feel slight hits of her elbows as they ran. They came to an abrupt stop before Crosshair who kept looking out for more trouble.

“Ready to go back?” Kai asked loudly, but his eyes were on Layla.

Wrecker held his breath.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” She sounded confident, her own visor trained on his. He knew there was a smile hidden under helmet, one he was eager to see again.

“Alright. Please remain calm, keep your head and arms close to your body and enjoy the ride.” The AI clapped his hands and the same feeling of free-falling took over his senses, making him panic instantly. Through the daze of it all, a hand grabbed his and squeezed tightly. He squeezed back, the small movement offering him tremendous comfort. Everything would be alright as long as they stayed together.

The free-falling feeling stopped and he found himself on his knees. His eyes moved to her hand still encompassed in his, moved up her arm to find her face. As soon as she met his visor, he pushed his helmet over his head and slowly reached to do the same to hers. Her eyes had turned shy, looking at their hands instead of his eyes.

“I loved you too. And well, I still do.” He could only hear her words because he was so close. Their breaths almost mixed.

“Welcome back.” He lowered his forehead to touch hers. Her eyes fluttered close, mirroring his.

“I’m home.” She whispered and his smile hurt his cheeks.

20 YEARS LATER

“You know, I don’t think I ever thanked you for not giving up on me when I kept making mistakes. I did some really bad ones and you never turned from me. It's crazy to think that it took you to travel universes for me to understand that my place was truly with you. I know it was by accident, but don’t you think it sounds romantic nonetheless? If not by your own doing then even the universe wanted to reunite us.” She chuckled. “That's so cheesy. But I’m grateful it happened. So thank you for pulling me back to you and for staying at my side no matter what.

“You’ve always been the strongest out of the two of us and I’m really trying to take a page out of your book here. I know you hated how your body aged so much more quickly than mine, and I hate it too because that karking gene took you from me too early, but I also try to see it from another angle, you know? I think it helps me cope. And its damn impressive when said like that, so here: you fought for a good part of your life, against droids, the Empire, you fought to ensure that we had a future together and then it all stopped. Well, more or so. Then came the small problems of life; finding our home, keeping it upright, dealing with my mind playing tricks on me, all those time you helped the village despite your aging body– I was always happy to give you those massages and you know it– and so many more that we overcame.

“What was I saying again? Oh. Yeah. What I meant is that all your life you fought in one way or another and you came back every time. Maybe injured, but alive. You were so strong that the only thing that managed to stop you was time itself, the only thing you had no power against. You were so strong, my love. I’m sure that if time was a droid, you would have trashed it in minutes.

“Now, am I as strong as you? I know I’m not. But I promised you that I’d do my best to be happy and that’s what I’ll do. After all, I have Aedan to lure me out of bed each day with that carefree smile of yours. I’m also grateful that he looks so much like you, but I told you that so many times already. He helps me heal a lot and I think that it's also a reason why you were so relieved when I told you I was expecting. You didn’t want to leave me alone, didn’t you? My strong and smart man. You’ve always known me more than I know myself.

“I miss you every day.” Her throat tightened. “My life became so much better because of you and I cannot thank you enough for it. I wish we had had more time, but I guess that will come later, when I find you again. Aedan and I will care for each other like you cared for us, with so much patience and love. Were you aware that our boy now has high standards in love? He’s only 13 and already talks of soulmates. That's all on you. You did that, you amazing man.

“Okay. I’ll let you rest for now. Take care of yourself wherever you are. I love you with all my heart and soul.”

A smile stretched her lips despite the salty tears falling down her cheeks. The tip of her fingers carefully stroked the plastoid of the helmet before her, her touch lingering on a familiar fingerprint. She had always been bad at goodbyes although she knew that this time, she would see him again. She had no doubt about that, after all he traveled universes to find her again. He would find her anywhere. It might not be tomorrow, she still had things to do, but when the time was right Wrecker would reunite them. He was the strongest after all.

#clone force 99 #wrecker x oc #star wars #clone wars #bad batch x oc #bad batch #sergeant hunter #tech #crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #wrecker #crossover #halo #operation:leviathan

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niqhtlord01 · 9 months

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Humans are weird: Privateers for Hire: Part 3

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU’VE DONE!?!?!”

Jacob swiped his hand across the table sending several bottles and glasses clattering to the ground. The light from the room hit the glass shards sending a cascade of colors around the room like a disco ball. Not impressed by the outburst, his guest opposite looked on with an expression of disgust.

Without making a sound Captain Amelia Starfeld withdrew her pistol from its holster and put a plasma bolt right next to Jacob’s right foot sending the diplomat tumbling back into the stuffed couch behind him. One of the Vraxon dancers draped around her waist giggled and went back to caressing her legs as the pirate queen flicked the safety of her weapon on and off.

“As I recall,” she began, “last time you were here we struck an accord. We destroy your enemies, and you pay us credits equal to the targets value; a straight forward agreement.”

Jacob took several deep breaths to calm down and regain his composure.

“Our agreement was for Hash’tu ships, what you did was-“

“So much better.” Amelia interrupted. “Our agreement also included a trillion credits for a station lest you forget, which we gladly destroyed to aid you in your war effort.”

“A station that crashed into a civilian planet causing an ecological disaster that has rendered the planet uninhabitable!”

Amelia tapped her pistol on her head and used the muzzle to scratch her forehead.

“I fail to see how that is my problem or yours, since it was a Hash’tu world and they are actively waging war against you.”

Jacob closed his eyes and pressed his fingers along the ridge of his nose. “They are our enemies, but the perception of how we win this war is what will define my employers for years to come.”

He reached into his briefcase and pulled out several documents, spreading them across the now cleared table for the pirate queen to see. Lazily Amelia pushed the Vraxon dancer on her lap to the side and leaned forward to read the documents. They were news articles taken from Cosmic Federation space with rather provocative titles.

“Hash’tu civilians devastated by surprise attack.”

“Hash’tu station forced out of orbit killing millions on impact.”

“Mass starvation across three systems following destruction of Hash’tu trade world.”

“Cosmic Federation labeled “Terrorist State” after devastating surprise attack against Hash’tu.”

“Daring raid behind lines results in record number of civilian deaths.”

Amelia chuckled and tapped the last one. “This one I might hang in my cabin when I return to my ship.”

“You’re missing the point.” Jacob interjected. “You were only to target military targets, ships or stations. Civilians were never part of the agreement.”

Amelia shrugged and leaned back into the couch. “Casualties of war; what can you do?”

One of the dancers reached under the couch and pulled out a data pad of their own and set it on the table. Jacob looked down at it as a long list of information began scrolling down.

“What is this?” he asked.

“This,” Amelia said as she spun the pad around with her gun for Jacob to see easier, “is what you owe.”

Picking up the pad Jacob began running through the list of confirmed kills. His eyes began to grow wide as he neared the end of the list and saw the final total of credits.

“3.5 trillion credits!?!!”

Amelia nodded. “That station we took down was one trillion, but then you take into account all the ships docked in it with the ones we had been scuttling before the attack and it evens out to 3.5 trillion. Honestly I think it is more around 4 but we couldn’t get the captain’s bio chips so we gave you a discount.”

“We will not be paying this.”

Jacob slid the data pad back over and crossed his arms as Amelia’s expression changed from mild amusement to outright anger. Sensing this, the dancers that had been draping themselves on her stood up without a word and left the room in a hurry.

“Because we’ve had such a good rapport I’m going to give you one chance to reconsider.”

She spun the data pad back around and heavily pushed it to the center of the table.

“You gave us a dirty job, and my crew held up our end of the bargain.” She tapped the pad with the muzzle of her gun and fixed the diplomat with a stare that could turn stars cold. “You’d hate for this little arrangement to be made public, would you? Right now everything floating is speculation, but if a certain pirate queen came forward and tells the galaxy that they were paid to cause untold destruction, that’d look bad for your “employers”.”

Jacob scoffed. “No one will believe the word of a known criminal, let alone a famous pirate; and even if you did come forward you would all but be admitting to being the terrorist these tabloids claim to be.”

He shook his head and stood up to leave. “It would be in your best interest to not contact me again.” Jacob said as he walked passed Amelia to the door.

No sooner had he reached it though did it open and two alien pirates stepped in.

“I wish you could have been more reasonable.”

Jacob turned at Amelia’s words and missed the two pirates stepping forward and grabbing hold of him.

“Let me go!” he demanded. “I am a diplomat for the Cosmic Federation and will not be treated this way!”

Neither of them loosened their grips on the diplomat as their captain stood up and joined them at the doorway.

“That’s where you’re wrong, friend.” She said as she drove a clenched fist into his stomach. Jacob coughed a glob of spit from the impact. “You were one.”

“What you want done with him?” one of the pirates asked. Amelia gestured with her head to the window overlooking the red light district. With their room on the thirty second floor they had an excellent view of the extensive realm of debauchery the space station housed.

The pirates looked at the window then back at Amelia as if to ask something but she cut them off.

“I’ll pay for the damages. I’ve already had a terrible day, and being kicked out of my favorite brothel would not be something I wanted to add to it.”

With that said the pair of pirates began dragging Jacob to the window. “What are you-“ he started before he suddenly realized what was happening.

“You spit a lot of hot air for a diplomat,” Amelia said, “let’s see if all that hot air helps you float.”

Before Jacob could even open his mouth he was being flung into the window. Unexpectedly the glass did not shatter as the pirates had intended but instead shattered into a web of cracks. The pirates looked at each other as Jacob groaned and padded his head to find a fresh trail of blood running down. Amelia sighed loudly and rubbed her eyes as she muttered something under her breath.

“Well what are you waiting for, do it again!”

The pirates nodded hastily and picked up Jacob again. They threw him once more and this time he went through the pane of glass entirely and began his scream filled plummet to the ground below.

Amelia walked over to the gaping hole in the window and watched her former associate spiral down to the ground before leaving a substantial stain on the pavement. Several nearby patrons waiting to get in recoiled in horror as they were showered with bits of bone and flesh while a dozen or so prostitutes walking the area began screaming and running in any direction away from there.

“Tell the lads to pack up.” Amelia said over her shoulder as she checked her pistol. “We’ve got a new score to settle.”

#humans are insane #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #space pirates #funny

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fuckknowledgeandideas · 6 months

Note

BTW i have been listening to the everything everything song u replied to my ask w AND ITS SOOOOOOOOO FAUCKING GOOOOOOOD

HELL YES I'M SO GLAD.... Everything Everything my favorite band of the world....

ALSO I'll derail this ask (sorry! you fell into my music trap) to make recommendations on how to get into their stuff since they have quite a few albums now ^-^ I'll go in order of most accessible album to least :

Get To Heaven : Their best album and probably their most well known one.. I started with this one so of course I am biased BUT. it is the most consistent one in terms of song quality in my opinion. It has a lot of very abrasive sounds, prominent bass (for the bassheads in the crowd <3), same with the drums, the singer makes a lot of funny sounds like eehee and ahaaa! and ooh!!, it's a good time. Notable songs (by that I mean my favorites) : (Well the thing is. The entirety is good. Just don't listen to No Reptiles it's stupid. HOWEVER,) Regret, Spring/Sun/Winter/Dread, Blast Doors, Hapsburg Lippp and Only As Good As My God are my big preferences in there. If you like quieter song listen to the others in priority I'd say. OH OH AND WHEEL. You should check The Wheel, see if it's turning now etc BONUS : BANGING CONCERT with BANGING RECORDING HERE https://youtu.be/qYAFCVlLWIk as a wise man once said : "I hope they got some nasty fucking sloppy after this sessio,n"

Man Alive : Baby's very first album!! This one I would say is quite depressing but quite catchy as well.. Half of the songs in there are a bit too empty to my personal taste BUUUUT the other half has a talent to make me writhe and cry on the flour. Augh. The sounds are lighter in this one but our good friend mister Johnathan Every love to yell so much it compensates largely. Notable songs : MY KZ UR BF, Qwerty Finger, Schoolin', Photoshop Handsome, Suffragette Suffragette, Come Alive Diana, and from the deluxe version I would say the most important ones to check out are DNA Dump and Wizard Talk BONUS : They collaborated with an ensemble for a concert check it out definitely they're so small in it and they are having so much fun and and there is a brass section it is so charming https://youtu.be/oCH_YGD7oDc AND you should check the demo of MY KZ UR BF. It makes me SAD! https://youtu.be/VaoHgQts5ek The roughness of it only conveys the message of it better and they have chimes in it. It's GOOD.

Raw Data Feel : Most recent released album, and it's about how we love phone more than god. Kind of. I'd describe this one as having a very dreamlike quality. It talks about apocalypse and robots and computers and how they are "terrifying and a bit sexy". They really said that. I wouldn't say it sounds more electronic than the others but it has a "blurred" artificial layer to it that makes it very unique. OH AND they did something cool with ai stuff before everyone else so props to them for that. Notable songs : Bad Friday, Pizza Boy, Metroland Is Burning, Leviathan and HEX. MY GOD LISTEN TO HEX. IT'S SO FUCKING GOOD.

Arc : A mixed bag of mehh songs and really REALLY STRONG ONES. Maybe the most sadness inducing album of theirs. It REEKS of despair. Badly. I'm saying that as a good thing. Album that feels like the dusty attic of deceased loved ones on a cold spring morning.. Notable songs : Cough Cough, Torso Of The Week, Choice Mountain, Undrowned, Radiant LISTEN TO RADIANT GOD. If you like those check Kemosabe, No Plan and Justice too. I like these very much.

A Fever Dream : ARGUABLY THEIR WORSE ALBUM. It's very quiet and empty except for a few tunes. I do think it has a very particular atmosphere that I personally ended up warming up to. Don't look up the meanings for the lyrics it's all kind of boring I think you should think about characters instead. Notable songs : Night Of The Long Knives, Desire, Good Shot Good Soldier, Run The Numbers. <- The most impactful songs to me. White Whale makes me very sad if I think about it too. Wahh

RE-ANIMATOR : It's fine. I don't have very strong opinions on this one. It has some really good songs in it. I think the thing with this one is the lyrics are a lot simpler than the others and I like the weirdness better. But it still is worth checking out those guys know how to make music. Notable songs : Big Climb, Planets, Black Hyena, Violent Sun. BONUS : They released SUPERNORMAL as a single around the time of that album and it's better than a good portions of the songs in it so check it out lol. The other single released for this album is the worst song they ever made don't worry about it.

BONUS OF BONUS : There's a playlist of a bunch of unreleased/demos/B-sides on youube if you are really motivated to check many things, some of them were in the Man Alive deluxe version though. https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLYCuy2Tpolc8GY7GQYX5_uYdgYpftKQ7V

Uhh I might have forgotten things but. If you don't know them that's a starting point that you can bounce off of. Have fun with tunes yayy <3

#My talk #SORRY WES you just got music'd #Everything Everything #<- Tagging in case someone wants to show this to recommend the band to anyone else #Everything Everything Band #e_e #Have a nice day (turns into a pile of dust

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lochblocknroll · 4 months

Text

> file.doomsday

> folder.justdroppedin

> document.loch

last accessed: ERROR: no data available

CONTINUE?

SECTION ONE:[A SONG FROM YOUR CHILDHOOD STARTS PLAYING, A MELODY THAT REMINDS YOU OF A TIME WHEN YOU WERE A HAPPY CHILD — ONCE.]

It's hardly been that long in the scheme of things. When compared to the grand span of eons that make up the universe, a few hours in a small, loud, flying tube of death didn't matter much. In the world of light and electricity, however, it may as well have been an eternity that Loch had already spent squeezed into this seat that pinched at his back and his neck. He was used to working on a different scale than the human. Loch was made for the immediate pulse of circuitry and this was as close to torture as he could imagine. Nothing like the demand of inaction ate at him quite so deeply.

Sighing and shifting for the tenth time in as many minutes the question he had done his best to ignore swam to the surface and breached his mind: how did I get here?

Just as quickly came the melody of a band never far from his mind and the questions posed when he was just four years old and with a muscle memory Loch never bothered to try to suppress, his head began to bob to a tune only he could hear as he quietly sang under his breath: 'Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down...' The Talking Heads had always spoken to that deep, unknowable part of him that had remained unchanged through the years and had more than once fueled a late-night dance party when the code swam before even his trained eyes.

It was a shame his mother never liked them much. She had always preferred the crooners from her days, which were more than enough to put Loch to sleep half the time.

It was a shame he was the only one left of that house that remembered the words to this song that danced freely in his brain like the rattle of an earthquake.

It was the same as it ever was.

SECTION TWO: [A FIDGETABLE, ANALOG ITEM, CAN BE KNIFEY THOUGH YOU BETTER HAVE A GOOD REASON FOR IT TO BE]

It had been another uncountable slew of minutes turned to slurry when the mountains had finally broke and demanded their presence be known. For a moment, Loch's heart had leapt with the hope that they were perhaps finally arriving. The same extremely large dickheads that had demanded he be separated from both his fish and his beautiful Alienware computer (never mind the Dell Ultrasharp curved monitor they had taken as well) had mentioned something about the mountains, right? Loch knew he should have been paying better attention, but watching literal thousands in equipment be carted away was a little more distracting than hour four of boring corporate bullshit.

(How did I get here? Letting the days go by...)

His fingers ached with the urge to type. Loch's brain practically ate itself in worry as his eyes ached with the memory of that headache and the damn flying helltube just kept going. His ears were doing to implode on themselves. It was sheer self-preservation that he found that worn river rock in his hands, pulled from the pocket of his backpack. It was dark in color, worn smooth over years of water and smoother in Loch's hands. His sister had found it, that time when she dug so deep into the ground she found water. That water held the rock.

Loch clutched it in a closed fist, thumb running along the self-made groove in its surface and focused on breathing and not the possibility that this entire thing was a hologram pulled together by a fringe cult of Owlmen or their Sincerely Completely Personable friends. But it never hurt to keep a healthy degree of suspicion, and Loch kept his eyes on the minimally staffed crew.

SECTION THREE: [ A PLACE OF GREAT PERSONAL SIGNIFICANCE, BE THAT POSITIVE OR NEGATIVE]

Loch was beginning to believe he was going to die on this damned helicopter and no one was going to notice because they were all going to just keep flying until they ran out of fuel and crashed in a terrible ball of fire without even the courtesy of Mothman making an appearance. He was going to be that man stuck in the Twilight Zone screaming about a man on the wing of the plane if something didn't happen soon. When nothing did, as things seemed determined not to on this thing, Loch found himself dozing off.

(And you may find yourself in a beautiful house...)

The home was warm. In his bedroom sat his set-up in its full glory kept perfectly cool as a dull green glow emanated from the doorway as Loch let the code run. It was going to take awhile, after all, and if he was going to see the same damned error on line 3549, he might take a hammer to the entire beautiful setup. Best to let it rest for now.

The rest of the house did not smell of dirt as it so-often did and instead smelled of the faint lavender perfume Mamá loved so dearly. The curtains that the golden hour shone through were the handmade ones, covered in small embroidered plants as soft and thin as lace. The dull thudding noise from the kitchen spoke of Mamá's famous locos tonight and that silly betta fish seemed to laugh in time with his sister's high-pitched, airy giggle.

The jolt of turbulance shook Loch awake, the half-heard memory of Matias being called to pour his sister a glass of mote con huesillos before the heat cooked her as well as the fish fading to the dull and the dark of the helicopter, void of anything resembling home. They overlapped for a moment before his home disappeared. Loch sighed. It wouldn't disappear forever, he knew. He was going to make sure of that.

#loched.doomsday #loched.plot #loched.development #fhq.prompt

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thistaleisabloodyone · 7 months

Text

RMPG Popularity Polls

Hello, my name is Tale, I'm an American Raver who's interested in popularity data within the Rampage fanbase. Admittedly, I only have access to the Tumblr fanbase - though if you know any other Rampage fans, please feel free to share. I'm currently running 3 surveys regarding RMPG data within the fanbase - RMPG Music Videos, Favorite RMPG Mbr, and Favorite RMPG Songs.

The surveys will be closing on November 17th, 2023, at 8pm US Eastern time.

RMPG Music Videos is to determine what music videos people have seen and what music videos are the most popular within the fanbase. It is 43 questions long, mainly asking if you've seen a specific music video, and then asking questions about favorite music video per album and favorite music video overall:

Favorite RMPG Mbr is to determine who are the most popular members within the fandom - I've organized the members into all sorts of specific polls, so your overall favorite may not be in every poll. It is 34 questions long, mostly multiple choice questions asking who your individual favorite is in a category, but there are three checkbox style questions, one for top 3 overall favorite members, one for top 4 overall favorite members and one for top 8 overall favorite members:

Favorite RMPG Songs is about the songs that RMPG has released or collaborated on (for collaborations, it's only songs featuring all 3 vocalists at this time - so Wings from the High&Low The Worst X soundtrack did not make, neither did Riku's solo song). It is 25 questions, mainly focused on favorite song by album:

Thank you so much to everyone who has already participated and shared. My goal was to get at least 20 responses and I've already made it there, but the more data I can gather, the better the results will be (and the better chance we might finally find a fan of the current least popular member before the survey ends).

If this is successful and people find it interesting, my goal is to run one, larger all-inclusive survey in May and have the results ready to post in June for Ravers' Day, potentially turning this into a yearly thing.

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randombush3 · 2 years

Text

Keep Driving.

florence pugh x reader

summary: based on Keep Driving by Harry Styles.

words: 3166

warnings: smoking, drug usage, smut (very little smut)

notes: this was hard to write towards the end, but i used the song as a checklist for content. it’s my interpretation of the song’s meaning, don’t come after me.

Summers have always started long before you chose to acknowledge them. England has a knack for thrusting heat in your face and cooling you off with a horrible thunderstorm, but this year Florence has saved you both, whisking her damsel in distress off to southern France. You’ve rented a car for a questionably small amount of euros, and she uses an old map from the man who owns the 40-year-old Corvette. Data that doesn’t work in half the places you go and a car older than you makes for a perfect black and white film camera holiday. Florence likes to imagine the camera cost a lot less than it did. You tease her for that.

The roof is pulled down the minute you leave last night’s rest stop; a run-down apartment in a run-down village with a very run-down toilet. Florence felt the aching pain of having no working toilet full force when she took up your challenge to finish the whole bottle of Cashew Fenny. Your yellow sunglasses are permanently shielding her eyes today.

“Are you feeling worse in the car?” you ask softly, glancing at her while attempting to drive on such odd roads. She shakes her head with military-grade dedication to not vomit once more. “Let’s stop, Flo. I can see the ocean, maybe the air will help.” Her resignation comes with a small nod as she slumps back into the cracked leather. You park just before the ground becomes golden sand. Florence gets out hurriedly.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she groans, looking very pale for someone who has sunbathed on a bonnet for the last two weeks. You rub her back as she bends over, and kick sand to cover it once she’s done. You offer some more comfort by informing her one of the nicer hotels you’re staying at is only half an hour away.

You get back in the car, carrying out Florence’s request to light her a cigarette. She says it might make her feel better. You disagree. The ashtray is too clean in Flo’s opinion, however.

“Does the hotel have a swimming pool?” You turn down the radio. “I really love the sight of you in a bikini.”

“I’m not sure.”

It does have a pool. Small, but pleasantly decorated with mosaic flooring. It’s deep enough for her to suggest jumping off the roof into it, given that the roof is only three metres high and easily accessible via a purposeful-looking metal ladder. You climb up when no one else is looking, flipping off her stupid film camera so that the picture is unusable on her instagram (she’s not allowed to deface your public image). The water is refreshing in the stickiness of being so hot. Florence grins as you both notice your bikini top has slipped to the side, “I really like the sight of you without a bikini, too.” You scoff, but let her get in the pool with you.

Driving in the morning is more painful when your muscles must have been pulled last night. You remind yourself to never let Florence get her hands on a candle again, because it incited something that kept you wanting her to fuck you until dawn. She places her hand on your thigh, rubbing her thumb against your linen trousers. The car manages a few miles before it begins to grunt in annoyance. It’s probably never been used this much in a decade. You reassure Florence that the sound of the engine is a small concern.

“We haven’t booked another place to stay. We were supposed to be at that hotel for another two days.” It was best to leave after last night. The bed is now broken, the sheets are filthy, and the other guests are most-likely traumatised.

You have nowhere to be. “Should we just keep driving?”

Then your holiday ends and you visit your friend while she films in LA. She meets you in the airport when the friend bluntly explains that you constantly moping around and missing her makes you awfully tedious to be around. You rub your eyes, not quite believing the hour of the morning you manage to escape into her rental cari. Florence instructs you that you will be eating at a 24-hour breakfast diner, and keeps her hand on your knee for the hour it takes to get there.

When you are seated and holding greasy menus, she tells you about the hotel her coworker just came back from. Cuba sounds lovely for a December getaway, and you’d have a great time, so you are convinced promptly and without much hassle. She’s proud of herself for knowing you’d like the idea — proud to be able to know you so well — and informs you she’s already booked it.

“What would you like?” asks a teenager with tired eyes and a skinny notepad in hand. “We haven’t got any waffles today.”

Everything sounds fatteningly perfect, all very American. Florence orders for you both, laughing as you raise your eyebrows at the coffee poured into the cracked, once-white mugs. “It’s better than it looks.” You don’t drink coffee unless an Italian forces it down your throat. “Try it, Y/n, I beg.” It takes until the food is here for you to put your lips to the ceramic and take a tentative sip. The coffee gave a falsely horrendous first impression: your food looks delicious. Every bite will undoubtedly lead you one step closer to a heart attack, but isn’t that just the US? Or, at least, your impression of the country.

Pancakes for one American become pancakes for two, and Flo is content with your slowing fork-to-mouth movements because she adores the food almost as much as she adores you. Within the space of five minutes she had eaten her own food; hash browns and bacon with two fried eggs. She leaves you to dip the toast served into her egg yolk, knowing that you only eat her eggs and would never order them for yourself. You don’t like them enough to do that.

As she douses your food in maple syrup, you begin to tell her about what England has been like. She hasn’t been back since before your trip to France; she misses it. “The weather here is too fake,” she states, swallowing her mouthful of pancakes. She carries on her rant about the phoniness of LA, simultaneously eating. When she finally picks up on your quietness, she asks, “what?” with an eye roll.

“I don’t know,” you answer. She laughs through an exhale. “You’re disgusting, but I find that I will always love you.” She mutters ‘thanks’ with a sour grin (a fake one) and continues her meal. You pay for it to say sorry for calling her disgusting.

“I might not love you anymore if you think that,” she teases as you walk to her car, arms linked in a secretly more-than-friends way that you’ve both mastered from liking girls in an all girls school. You sit in the passenger seat, which is the biggest difference between the two of you being anywhere else in the world and the States. “You find me disgusting.”

You agree only so that she misses the turn she had to take to get back to her house. She’s lived there for a month and should know the alternative routes, but knowing Flo, the guests have come to hers and not the other way round and so she gets to stay out and forgo learning routes she doesn’t care about. The only routes she tends to care about are ones that lead back to you.

“It’s gonna take ages to get back now.” You smile to yourself. You like going on drives with her, and you never know how to ask to go on one. Drives with Florence bring an insight to her point of view, because her usual internal monologue suddenly becomes audible and you get to know her better. You really like knowing her better. “Why are you smiling?”

“I’m not smiling,” you lie, smiling. She grips the steering wheel tighter for a moment, and then relaxes for a reason you don’t get to know. “Should we just keep driving? Not much else to do.” The car is electric, and the engine sounds concerningly futuristic. If the planet isn’t being killed then the mood doesn’t have to be. Florence nods, turning onto a freeway that will take you away from the city and into the places where the sunrise will be unobstructed and the two of you will be undisturbed.

Suddenly, your relationship is no longer undisturbed, however, when a rumour is circulated that the two of you are dating. No one was supposed to know, which is why your lives together were stolen kisses in the dark that you’re not allowed to talk about. To avoid drama, you’d solve the smaller problems, ignoring the sputtering engine of a relationship that was too secret for such loud people. She hates that, but she loves you and doesn’t want to lose you to a swarm of social media hurricanes.

Cuddled up on the sofa, she pours you a glass of rioja as a peace offering. It dribbles down your throat and soothes the hoarseness that came from shouting at each other. She wipes your tears with a whisper of ‘I’m sorry’ and passes you the joint she’s lit to calm herself down. You take a puff that surrounds the two of you in a bubble of solitude, but you’re not really alone, because you’re alone with Florence.

“Do you want to watch something?” The light from the TV is the only thing keeping you awake in her living room, but nothing is actually playing. You have been staring at the screen blankly for the last half an hour, wondering if the tears will ever stop pooling in a well of not being able to communicate properly.

You shake your head and get up from the sofa, leaving her chest feeling light after being weighted with your head resting on it. “Goodnight.” She smiles because she doesn’t want to hurt you more than she already has. “I still want to wake up next to you,” is your attempt at reconciliation.

“You will,” she replies carefully. She wants to as well. You still have her captivated, and she still has you wanting her. But wanting her becomes more difficult when mornings become like drinking tea with cyborgs, when the conversation is only the clinking of cutlery on bowls and plates and the best part is when she says she has to go out and see somebody. The meetings she goes to are for protests. America is rioting and you don’t feel at home enough to help. It causes more arguments, but she makes new friends who teach her new things. A professor of pharmacology drops edibles round after a long week of listening to her friend rant about you. You end up binging five minute crafts on her massive TV, laughing endlessly at their viral life hacks.

December comes faster than summer left, autumn being just a blur of late night flights and early morning making out. You decide to go on holiday despite having looked for an apartment of your own two days before the plane takes off. She drops your hand when the airport gets too busy, but in the secluded first class of the plane your passports fall into the footwell as you move onto her lap. She kisses you softly and waves off the air hostess who will come back with champagne in an hour or so.

The hotel is as impressive as her colleague said. The concierge looks at the two of you and sighs, muttering something in Spanish. Florence shows your booking details smugly, knowing that everyone hates you already. “Can we upgrade?” she asks. She’s up to something.

“You have every upgrade possible already paid for,” says the concierge. Oh. “Enjoy your vacation.” You take Florence’s hand as you are directed to your own private lift.

“Oh, we shall.” Her voice is in your ear as you stand closer than necessary for a space of four square feet. The doors shut swiftly, clearing the view of the concierge’s unamused expression. “I’ve been invited to the opening of a club tonight. Are we going?” You appreciate that she asks. She doesn’t normally.

“We’re on holiday, Flossie.” She still waits for you to say yes. “What time are we being picked up?”

You have realised that she forcibly moulded herself into your life quite well. Her schedule is frustrating when she’s with you and even more so when she isn’t. There’s a constant struggle to find equilibrium that only a fool would continue to search for. You relax when she drags her pinky down your bare back as she finds her way to your zip. Once she pulls it up, you have secured your act of being in a perfect relationship with a perfect woman.

On cue of this thought, she flashes you a little plastic bag with white powder filling it halfway. “I got it while you were sorting out the cabana for tomorrow,” explains Flo. “We’re on holiday, Y/n.” You want it now. Not in a club full of people she knows but you don’t, not when you can get back the Florence you had in summer for the briefest of moments and have her all to yourself; the daring woman with whom you fell in love with. Are in love with. Maybe are in love with still.

Black against white in obnoxiously rich fashion, she divides it for you both, taking physical control. As you lower your face to the desk, her eyes linger on the exposure of your dress. Even if she has seen you completely naked, she finds the hint of what’s there uncovered fabulously erotic.

It sets in and you soon detect the feeling of being anchored to the bedroom. Florence is undoing the zip with more enthusiasm than when she did the reverse, and you are helping her out of her idiotically chosen jumpsuit. Her kisses are sloppy and open-mouthed, meeting you somewhere in between as you pin her hands above her head on the mattress. You straddle her waist, ignoring her plea for you to properly touch her, in the way that sends her twelve million miles away on a hike of ecstasy and bliss. The hotel has chosen useless, white linen curtains, and they flow inwards because of the sea breeze. The balcony doors are open: the sea view is divine.

“I don’t want to go,” she confesses as you undo the clasp of her bra. Fingers on skin and lips on lips create a haze of pleasure as she throws her head back, moaning. “Fuck, Y/n, I really don’t want to go.” It’s like everything has been heightened and everything you’ve ever done has led you here. You are meant to be here.

“You were so insistent on not being alone with me.”

She sighs. “And now I want nothing more.” You sit up straight, admiring the sight of her; back arched, glistening with sweat. If only everyone else could see her so helpless. So desperate. They’d wonder why they ever thought you were forced to be with her, much unlike what the rumour states. Florence Pugh and Y/n L/n are together, but at what cost? The price is that of love, but the car has become old and tired lately. The car needs to be oiled yet no one can find it in them to do so.

You repel said thoughts away from you, focusing on her in the here and now. Focusing on the squirming when you adjust your position over her, letting her struggle only to show her that you have complete power and control over the situation, right here, right now. “You need me.” She nods. “You are always going to need me.” It packs more meaning than the face value dominance, but you don’t dwell on pouring your heart out mid-fuck.

Taking off her panties, you only wait for a ‘yes’ before locating her clit. You take it between your finger and thumb, rubbing. Her sharp intake of breath is only the gateway to a chorus of moans as you work your way further, ending your exploration by slipping two fingers inside of her. She wants to grind down but cannot as you are on top of her and keeping her unnaturally still.

Moments pass and you’ve let go of her hands. She uses them to massage your breasts as you move your fingers inside of her, hitting deeper every time she lifts her back from the mattress. The cocaine alters the usual haze of pleasure by amplifying it ten-fold, and so, with the doors open, you are certain everyone else is hearing this. It turns you on more.

Breathlessly, Florence asks for something. Or maybe it’s the drugs asking. Guarded by moans on either side, the quiet beg to be choked slips out. The way she sounds makes you want to fuck her senseless with the sea behind her. Like the ocean, she is uncontrollable, but you feel (and maybe here it is definitely the drugs) that you are an ocean-tamer. You are capable of anything.

‘I am capable of anything’ becomes your mantra to get you through the holiday. After the first few days, the car starts to run out of fuel once more, and the sight of those perfect families laughing and playing cards at breakfast begin to sicken you. It’s almost like toothache, the rot of your relationship. It hurts but it doesn’t debilitate. Wishing you could have what they have is a bad move.

“I feel like everyone can tell it’s going to shit,” you confide as you sunbathe by the pool. You’re surprised she acknowledges you. “They don’t believe it anymore, Flo. We’re not friends, we can’t outwardly be together… Why can’t we—”

“Just act normal,” she cuts you off. “Pretend, if you have to.”

“What? Should I make up lies about Moka pot Mondays and taco Tuesdays? Do we have Christmas traditions?” The only tradition you seem to have is ploughing forward despite everything crashing and burning. And then every time you think the fire has finally been put out, it’s all good, and you are in love again. Love isn’t supposed to stop and start like a flagging car.

You realise you’re crying. She doesn’t want to make you cry. She never wants to make you cry.

“Hey, you.” Her voice is softer now. “I will always love you, remember.”

“I feel like we’re in a car. An ancient car.”

The metaphor resounds with Flo. She realises something is seriously wrong. “I feel like the engine’s sound is no longer a small concern.” You nod. “But I don’t know how to fix cars. I’m not equipped to fix things like this.” No one is.

“Should we just keep driving?”

tags: @pewpughpew @ridlz @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore

#florence pugh #black widow #marvel #fanfiction #mcu #florence pugh fanfiction #florence pugh x reader #yelena belova #florence pugh one shot #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh smut #florence pugh angst #harry styles #songfic #harrys house #don’t worry darling

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andmaybegayer · 7 months

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Last Monday of the Week 2023-10-23

Testing the limits of my kitchen

Listening: I've been using my enormous playlist of Japanese Jazz Fusion as background music at home. This is Galactic Funk by Casiopeia.

youtube

Reading: There's a great PBS video on insect metamorphosis that debunks the whole Butterfly Soup thing and explains the much, much more bizarre truth: even before they enter a chrysalis, caterpillars have started to develop butterfly parts inside their bodies. Big chunky caterpillars contain a half-built butterfly. Inside the chrysalis they simultaneously dissolve the remainder of the caterpillar parts and finish the butterfly on the existing scaffolding.

youtube

There's a great paper referenced in that video which is this one, which is about findings from time-lapsed 3D CAT scans (which I guess makes it 4D) of caterpillars as they pupate.

There's actually quite a few interesting papers on following metamorphosis with modern imaging technology, including a big old thesis that I have only just started to dig into and that I do not understand.

Watching: Nothing.

Playing: I got a little obsessed with Bullets Per Minute, a rhythm FPS roguelike. Well, more of a tempo FPS roguelike, since you have to fire, reload, jump and dash on a very regular 88bpm 4/4 rock/metal soundtrack. Here, I've cut some clips together.

Hell of a lot of fun, I've been in the market for a really fast paced shooter. I tried to replay Titanfall 2, which is good. I also had a good time playing Warframe missions I was way too high level for, eventually I remembered watching the ZeroPunctuation on this and picked it up.

BPM feels great and is also a really fascinating old-fashioned indie roguelike. The game has almost no tutorials, you just get dropped into levels. Items have absolutely bare minimum descriptions and no hard numbers, the fan wiki is full of notes very clearly the result of trying to puzzle out exact damage numbers and percentile improvements from the player side of the game.

It is not hostile though! Very forgiving accessibility options if you aren't great with rhythm and good difficulty modes. I've done two full clears on normal difficulty and like with most roguelikes, that was a product of familiarity and getting the Good Items early in my run (thank you infinite ammo + revolver)

Making: Made a full spec Wedding Meal (vegetable biryani, dal, and soji) for Friends over the weekend. Easier than I expected! A lot of prep but not actually that time consuming, as long as like me you're good chopping one million vegetables.

Also finished hacking on monctl to have a command line interface. It allows fast USB control of a Gigabyte monitor. I have started poking at Display Data Channel to better generalize monitor control because I want to get a second monitor soon but this works great for now.

Tools and Equipment: If you have a dishwasher you should pretty much always use it to wash, even if it's only half full. Your dishwasher probably uses under 12 liters of water to do a full wash cycle, less on Eco modes. You are almost never going to beat it for economy or sterilization, so the only things you should wash by hand are things you either cannot put in the dishwasher (e.g. cast iron) or things you need washed right now.

#last monday of the week #Youtube

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elendiliel · 8 months

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A Very Civil War

This idea has been buzzing around my head for a while, but seeing this post catapulted it up the priority list. (Yes, I know that's a mixed metaphor, but I don't know how to unmix it.)

---

Ratchet knew something was different about his Energon ration the moment he picked it up, and it took him less than another moment to figure out what it was. While the colour and consistency of his fuel were unchanged, its weight had slightly but significantly increased, and the liquid level had perceptibly risen, since he dispensed it. Someone had topped it up while his back was turned, and it wasn’t hard to guess who that person was. Only two other people had access to the Energon storage logs and would therefore know about his ration situation, and Optimus would never do anything so underhanded – not to one of his own team, anyway. That just left…

Sure enough, when he looked down at the occupant of the seat beside him, he met the steady, unwavering, utterly unrepentant gaze of his new second. Despite the discomfort he knew prolonged eye contact caused her, Glitch maintained it even while taking a sip of her own fuel, daring him to say something. (Instead of depleting the team’s limited Energon supply, the visitor from another universe was making do with Earth fossil fuels, which she could apparently process just fine in moderation. Ratchet had asked her once how she could drink the stuff; she had made a face and replied, “Reluctantly, and carefully. In excess, motor oil is an intoxicant for us, and there isn’t exactly much of me.” There certainly wasn’t; she was barely twice the height of an average human and slender with it, which had necessitated several modifications to their base’s furniture and the construction of a new medical berth that she could reach without standing on anything.)

He couldn’t resist that stare for long; could anybody? But he didn’t have to put up with her tampering with his fuel. “I don’t need this much.”

“Yes, you do. I know you don’t go out in the field much, which I still don’t understand but that’s an argument for another day, but you use your processor, your tools and your hands all the time, not to mention wrangling some pretty sizeable patients. All of that needs Energon. Which is why I’ve logged increased fuel intake as an official prescription for you.” Of course she had.

“I can overrule that,” he pointed out. He was the senior medic.

“Try it and I’ll set Prime and Raf on you. Maybe Magnus as well.” That was a battle Ratchet knew he’d lose. He could, after much practice, cope with Optimus’ gentle persuasion and occasional guilt-trips on their own and for good reasons, but when combined with Rafael’s pure, open compassion and concern and Ultra Magnus weaponising every relevant rule and procedure in the book, they would be irresistible. Better try another angle of attack. “All right, maybe a slight increment would be acceptable, but I certainly don’t need a full ration.”

“That isn’t a full ration,” Glitch countered. “You’ve been starving yourself for decades, so your system wouldn’t cope with that sudden increase. I planned to add a bit more each time, as much as was safe, hoping you wouldn’t notice. One gamble that didn’t come off, clearly.” She smiled up at him, and he knew he’d lost the battle. “We need you running at a hundred percent. For your own sake, not just because you’re our senior doc-‘bot.”

Well, he wasn’t going to surrender without a fight, and she’d given him an opening. “I am the senior medic of this team, which means I know we don’t have enough Energon for everyone. Not for any long period of time, and certainly not at our usual rate of injuries.”

“Then one of us has got our sums wrong,” she fired back. “Or we’re using different data. Factoring in my presence,” there wasn’t a hint of arrogance in that phrase; it was simply a statement of fact, “and assuming the current trends in Energon acquisition continue, there’s more than enough of a margin to let you stop short-changing yourself. I don’t run on your Energon, but I can protect our teammates in the field,” as she had both a shield mod and medical tools that could be re-deployed as secondary shields, “and patch up the injuries I can’t prevent right then and there. All things being equal, that cuts down fuel consumption past the point where you definitely don’t have to starve yourself. Skies above, I see why you and Prime are Amicae. You’re as bad as he is sometimes.” She didn’t mean to be insulting, Ratchet knew, and his oldest friend did have a tendency to put himself – and only himself – in harm’s way too often for comfort.

But if that wasn’t the racer calling the turbofox fast… “I suppose that is a hazard of our profession.” He looked meaningfully at the scar on Glitch’s upper chestplate, which he knew to be a memento of a Decepticon ambush in which she had protected her partner almost at the cost of her own spark.

“True,” she conceded. “How d’you think I know how to spot someone on starvation rations? Or how to do this?” She indicated Ratchet’s still-untouched Energon. “Holdover from boot camp. Our drill sergeant sometimes docked someone’s rations when he wanted to get creative with punishments.” Ratchet winced slightly. Such behaviour would not be acceptable under Optimus’ authority. “I thought I didn’t need as much as the others, so I’d just top theirs up with mine when they weren’t looking. Even when that wasn’t the case, the standard ration was plenty for a two-wheeler but not quite enough for a construction model like Bulk, so I’d give him a little extra when I could.” The corners of her speech synthesiser twitched up in a brief smile. “Heh, no wonder he was the only one who clocked what I was doing. Anyways, I didn’t realise how much of an effect that was having until after our three worst troublemakers had left. Suddenly I wasn’t nearly so snappish and started doing better on every type of exercise. Not much better, I’ll admit, probably because I was still staying up late reading.” She gave Ratchet an uncomfortably thoughtful look as she took another sip of oil. “Speaking of, once you’ve finished that, I strongly recommend you get some proper rest as well. Or there might be more than extra Energon in your next ration.”

Ratchet primed his voicebox and synth to say, “You wouldn’t,” but he knew she would. She was just as stubborn as him or Optimus, a very direct problem-solver, and quite possibly missing one or two blocks of ethical code. And he also knew Optimus was worried enough about him to back her up – as Magnus also would. Besides, it would be pleasant to power down properly for a while, trusting her to hold the fort, and to take the edge off the symptoms of Energon deprivation he had been resolutely ignoring for so long. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t go back to a reduced intake when her back was turned. Conceding defeat and ending their very civil war (for the time being), he finally picked up the doctored fuel and began to drink. As a broad grin spread across her face, he found he didn’t mind losing that battle. (Much.)

#transformers prime #transformers animated #fanfic #tfp ratchet #autobot oc #misplaced medic au

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bilolli · 1 year

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Hi, me again lmao 👁️👁️ Thank you for answering to my ramblings, have more

By erasing memories I meant like actual staff erasing it so they don't have triggers from past patients, like if you know psychopaths are pretty cool doctors/cops/any other job that involves human's emotions or traumatic shit for normal person because they don't have any emotions. So technically it would be logical for William to program bots to be the same but if it's important for the story then nevermind, it's just a thought of mine!

Also about boys having conflicted feelings: we can make it even better! Y/N has conflicted feelings as well because Sun and Moon are caretakers, it's their job to take about y/n. So y/n just thinking like "Could everything that they did be just because of their job?" "Maybe they were so nice to me just because they have to" etc etc ;)

Another little things, just ideas(don't have to be in your main story, just thoughts about your main setting):

You said that Sun and Moon are allowed to go wherever they want but I don't really think that they can just live y'know? And I was just thinking about them actually secretly dreaming about experiencing very simple things, that they can't do on their own because they need to look after patients.

Y/N is already healthy for a long long period but pretends to be sick so they can stay with boys? Like yeah, they can leave the hospital and just visit them sometimes but it's just not the same...

Thank you for answering again, I'm really into this au and really want to see how it will turn out!! <33

Yey more ramblings!

Answers under the cut because I can't seem to be able to write a small post.

Normal staff is unable to erase the animatronics memories because it requires a lot of knowledge about programming (obviously) and even some access passwords that only the directors of the hospitals know (William and Micheal in this case) The directors are the one who decide how to use and what must be done to the animatronics.

Under William's directions, animatronics were periodically reset to better manage their memory and to erase private data after a patient was released. This was obviously just an excuse used for the public. He actually did that to erase every possible proof of his crimes.

Micheal, on the other hand, doesn't do that because he doesn't have anything to hide and thinks that having any previous data about certain events/illnesses could save someone's life, even if it's not actually in line with normal privacy rules. He sees the animatronics like a hacker/technician sees his extremely expensive and new super computer. Not actually as people but something pretty much similar. He treats them well but he demands respect from them, not because he is human and they are robots, but because of his position as a lead doctor.

I didn't mention it before but y/n has a lot of conflicting feelings as well. Here is an example from the WIP:

"After all you're just another patient to entertain, who knows how many other humans they took care of with the same kind gestures and smiles before you even arrived here."

Sun and Moon are free to roam inside the hospital perimeter and it has pretty much anything you could ever want and could expect from a big, private hospital (like, dunno, a pool and a gym). But yeah, they sometimes find themselves thinking about visiting different cities or just enjoying different views.

Sun wants to go to an amusement park and Moon wants to go to a real cinema and watch a film on the big screen.

Visit the duo you say? That's actually something Sun says at some point but he's firmly convinced that y/n would stop doing it after some time passes.

Y/n has the money to stay at the hospital for some time but they'll run out of them if they stay for too long. If they are gonna survive all of what's happening they are planning something different. Hopefully their plan is going to work.

#and this ask too is going in my notes hehe #you have a big brain btw #and stop reading my mind plz #hospitalized au

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cicadaknight · 10 months

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i was writing thoughts about sylens inviting beta to his camp at tilda’s house but it’s turning into a mini fic and i don’t know how to write dialogue 👉👈

but just imagine:

Sylens and Beta becoming friends over many months working with GAIA. He learns quickly she is not to be underestimated and her nervous pessimism is usually a result of over-calculation. Their presence in the Base becomes an unexpected comfort to both.

Beta spends hours upon hours ruminating about Tilda’s data channel, the time she spent feeling safe and cared for in a false reality, only for it to be ripped away and poisoned. Wondering why Tilda created it in the first place, if she’d hoped Beta would be her second chance with Lis before she discovered Aloy.

The more she thinks about it, the more Beta is haunted by thoughts of the house. Obsessively tracing its halls in her mind, rewatching Aloy’s holograms of her time there. Wondering what it smells like, sounds like, feels like. If Tilda’s rendering exaggerated the sound of the waves below the cliffs, the vastness of the vaults.

Beta slowly works herself up to traveling without Aloy, even though it terrifies her. She begins facing her fears through small steps. Eating meals outside in Zo’s garden to spend time with Varl, trading resources the gang brings back to the base in Arrowhand, practicing plant identification without her focus in the foothills.

Beta finally decides to go with Sylens to his camp so they can more efficiently work through accessing APOLLO. Aloy offers to accompany them to his camp. In part to make sure Sylens doesn’t ditch Beta if things go wrong on the journey, in part to be a familiar comfort for Beta. Nothing goes wrong. Sylens isn’t exactly pleasant, but he somehow makes Beta laugh, gives her hunting tips, takes watch so she can sleep. Aloy sticks around the coast for a few days after Beta settles in at the house, just in case.

When they get to the camp, Sylens gives Beta space, pretends he doesn’t notice her brooding. Her hands run lightly over crumbling walls, inhaling the damp that burns away in midday sunlight. She scuffs moss with her boots and pulls away vines that hide shadows of framed artwork long since rotted away.

He makes dinner for them (roasted peccary and peppers, her favorite). Sitting around a fire on the dilapidated balcony, he waits for her to speak. It’s not his priority to make her feel better, only for her to be able to work efficiently. At least, that’s what he tells himself. But he can at least imagine the demons that plague her in these ruins. He can conjure the feeling of abandonment she must have felt when Tilda locked her out of these halls. How all the seemingly infinite knowledge—everything he craved—everything at her fingertips on the Odyssey would have felt meaningless without a tangible world to give it life.

When she does finally speak, it’s to ask him questions. If he ever had a home. Parents. Has he ever felt betrayed. Does he have any regrets. Why he searches so relentlessly for knowledge. Does he understand how badly he’s hurt people? Does he care? He answers through his typical riddles, though with none of his snark. He gives her as much honesty as he can.

She asks if she can show him something. Smoke rises between them as he holds her gaze. Before he can answer, she rises and disappears down a hallway. She stops in front of the vault doors, breathing deeply to calm herself. She opens the door with a code and leads them inside.

#haaaaa not me trying to summarize what i’d written through bullet points only for it to be even longer #god i love the idea of sylens and beta and gaia hangin out #just guys being dudes #feeling their long repressed emotions and finding comfort in how they’ve each experienced isolation #i did not proofread this and i am going to refrain from doing so lest i comb through it for 17 hours #also i’m to tired to think through the actual conversation beta and sylens would have about tilda and her house #even though that was the whole damn point of this lmao #h #sylens #beta

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mariacallous · 1 year

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Meta’s new subscription service looks pretty familiar. For between $11.99 and $14.99 a month, Instagram and Facebook users will get a blue “verified” mark, access to better security features, and more visibility in search. Their comments will also be prioritized.

The package has strong echoes of Twitter’s Blue subscription service, launched under new owner Elon Musk, who has been aggressively trying to find ways to monetize his platform—most recently, by telling users they won’t be able to use text-based two-factor authentication unless they subscribe.

Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg announced Meta Verified in a post to his Instagram channel on February 19, saying that the service, which will be rolled out first in Australia and New Zealand, “is about increasing authenticity and security across our services.”

Analysts say that while the move isn’t entirely out of character for Meta, it hints at a lack of innovation at the social media giant, which has laid off more than 11,000 workers since late last year and spent billions on its push into the metaverse, a technology with no clear business model.

“Meta has always had copying in their DNA—Instagram’s Reels is but one of a long list of prominent examples—so it’s no surprise that, seeing Twitter get away with offering basic functionality as a premium service, Zuckerberg is trying to do the same,” says Tama Leaver, professor of internet studies at Curtin University in Australia. “Meta’s move to copy Twitter’s subscription model shows a distinct lack of new ideas … Meta has shed staff and is hemorrhaging money in building a metaverse that no one seems all that interested in right now.”

While Meta has emphasized the security aspects of its subscription product, the fact that subscribers will get greater visibility on the company’s platforms marks a significant change for users.

Twitter’s attempts to make users pay for features, including more promotion by its algorithms, have been met with widespread criticism, and many have threatened to quit the platform, although there is no reliable data on how many people have followed through.

However, Snapchat and Discord have also both introduced paid subscription tiers to users without a similar level of outrage, suggesting that the dislike of Twitter Blue could be linked to Musk himself and broader concerns about the platform.

“Meta has seen Snapchat, Discord, and Twitter launch their own subscription plans, which gives power-users additional features or perks,” says social media analyst Matt Navarra, who first broke the news about the Meta change. The idea of paying for features that used to be free has started to become normalized, he says. “The risk there is reduced for them in terms of whether it will be a success.”

Regardless, Navarra admits he won’t be buying verified status from Meta. “I don’t think it’s worth it,” he says.

How much money Meta can raise through verification is unclear. Twitter has struggled to sell subscriptions to its Blue service, with The Information reporting that the platform has fewer than 300,000 subscribers worldwide—which would bring in less than 1 percent of the $3 billion Musk wants the company to make. The Meta family of apps, including Instagram, Facebook, and WhatApp, have nearly 10 times the number of monthly users that Twitter does.

Meta’s revenue has slowed in recent months, with a 55 percent year-on-year decline in net income in the fourth quarter of 2022.

“Meta and Zuckerberg heading down the paid blue check subscription path on Facebook and Instagram makes strategic sense that could further monetize the massive installed base, [while] advertising headwinds abound,” says Dan Ives, managing director and senior equity research analyst at Wedbush Securities. “That said, it’s potentially a risky move that could alienate consumers.”

Navarra says that, unlike Twitter, which is trying to reengineer its entire business model under Musk, prioritizing subscriptions over ads, Meta isn’t necessarily looking for Meta Verified to become a massive revenue driver—it’s more just an easy way to make a little extra money.

“Most of the features that have been bundled together by Meta are things that already exist.” But that makes it a risk worth taking, Navarra reckons. “All they really had to do is a very small lift of pulling it together into a bundle, and then packaging it up as a new product. It’s a quick win, and low-hanging fruit.”

However, even if Verified is a small side-bet for now, it represents a shift in what verification means on Meta platforms by making important security features and tech support paid-for features. “Additional security around impersonation should be, to be honest, a free part of using their product, given the amount of revenue they generate and the numbers of users on the platform,” Navarra says.

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