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thinking1bee · 5 days

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You Haven't Failed Part 4

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Tags: Spidey!Reader, Venom!Reader, So Much Angst, Fluff, Established Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Injuries, Blood, Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut

Everything Taglist: @sammy90682 @nobody13 @owloftheshadows @captain-josslett @camslightstories @worldovart @finleyfray @acertainredhead @sammm9068 @reginassecretlover

You woke up to bright, warm sunlight filtering through the open blinds of the window. The space beside you was empty. You were beginning to stir, and the feeling of the cool sheets where Wanda’s body was supposed to be was what woke you up. She was gone, but on her pillow was a note. In her elegant cursive, you read what she wrote:

Good morning gorgeous!

I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to wake up next to you, but I got pulled away on assignment. Make sure to eat food and drink water. Nick mentioned that he wanted to see you for something so make sure you stop by his office. I made breakfast and placed it in the microwave for you to heat up. I love you so much.

-W <3

You smiled dreamily as you pivoted onto your back, and stared at the ceiling. Something about Wanda leaving you a note was so…romantic. You laughed softly as you thought about last night, and normally, something like that would have left you sore in the morning after, but you felt good. Great even. You weren’t even exhausted despite being up all night, and you stretched your entire body before throwing the blankets off you and starting your day. It was an hour by the time you made it to Nick’s office. You ate and showered before dawning your supersuit. True to what you told Wanda during dinner, Nick was partnering you up with Peter to sweep a 10-mile radius around Oscorp Industries. You and Peter high-fived in excitement. It’d been a while since you worked with the friendly, neighborhood Spider-man and it was going to be so nice to spend time with him. Though Peter was younger than you, he had his powers longer than you did, and he was the one to teach you everything that he knew.

You and Peter divided the work. You would take the northern half of the radius while Peter took the southern half. You were swinging in between buildings, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, while Peter talked to you via the comm in your ear.

“I’m just saying, Y/n. You should let Mr. Stark build you a suit. With access to nanotechnology and an AI, I’m sure he could make you something that you would like. It is certainly easier than wearing a suit under your clothing or having to change into one. Trust me, I tried that, and it was much more difficult than I thought it would be.”

You laughed, the visual of him struggling to get his suit on in some cramped, little space, entertaining you more than it should. Peter tried for years to get you to go to Tony. Even Tony himself approached you with various blueprints and drawings, saying that he was ready to do this the moment you were. You weren’t sure just yet. Having a physical suit was nostalgic to you, but maybe it was time for an upgrade. You were sure that Wanda was sick of smelling your suit every time you came home from work, though she did take it in stride.

“Maybe I will visit him,” you told Peter, and you could hear the excitement in his voice.

“Really?!”

“Yeah, I mean. I like your integrated suit.”

The blue, red, and gold colors were a nice touch along with all the gizmos and gadgets that were equipped to it. Admittedly though, it wasn’t your favorite. Your favorite suit that you saw Peter wear was the Iron Spider. If you were going to wear a new suit, you wanted it to look like that one. The sleek metallic look, and the way it looked like Tony’s Iron-Man suit really had you impressed.

“You won’t regret it. I promise! Besides my suit gives me an advantage that you don’t have.”

“What’s that?”

“FRIDAY gives me access to police scanners. There’s a fight between the police and some escaped convicts at the corner of 12th. I can meet you there?”

Damn. That was a nice perk. The moment he pointed it out, your spider senses went off just as you heard guns firing. “Yeah, I’ll see you there.”

You headed to the confrontation, and landed next to an officer that was taking cover behind his car.

“Hey one of the Spideys are here!” someone pointed out and you gave them a shy wave. You turned to the officer as you ducked with him.

“There are six of them. At least three have guns, while others have short, ranged weapons. Think you can take them?”

“In my sleep,” you said with a smile. “Just make sure you help the civilians.”

“You got it.”

He shuffled away from you, and you focused on the comm in your ear. “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah,” Peter answered. “I’ll be there in 10. Make sure you leave me some.”

“No promises if you take your sweet time getting here.”

Peter laughed before he turned his comm off. You took several deep breaths to prepare yourself. Your spider senses were going crazy, and you jumped to your feet and dodged right as someone tried to shoot you. You raised your arm and fired a web from your hand, the white fluid attaching itself to the gun right as you yanked it out of the hands of your target. You spun it around and launched it back at the person you snatched it from, and you heard the solid impact of metal against skin as it collided into his ribs. He choked on his next breath of air, his face turning a deep red color, before he collapsed onto his back.

“Aw shit, the Spider is here!”

You smiled beneath your mask and got to work. The two prisoners with guns aimed at you simultaneously and fired. You dodged the bullets easily, jumping and flipping out of the way. You shot two lines of web at them, each line attaching to their feet. You watched as they both looked at you, and then at each other before you grabbed the lines and threw them up into the air. They screamed in terror, and you shot more webs at them while they were airborne. The fluid wrapped around their bodies before attaching them to the nearest wall of a building. That was three down and no more guns. Three more to go. The crowd that was gathering around you cheered, and you knew that if Peter didn’t get here within the next minute, he was going to miss on all the fun. One prisoner with a crowbar tried to rush you, but you laughed. His movements were slow and clumsy as he swung the bar and missed. You easily punched him, your fist connecting solidly with his cheek, before he collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Two more. One of the guys was immediately in front of you, and thinking nothing of it, you rushed him. In his hands was a wooden baseball bat, and before he could get close enough to swing it, you launched more webs at him. One of the webs crashed into the bat, and the solid wood was knocked into his forehead before the rest of the webs wrapped around his body. You watched as he went cross eyed before his knees buckled, his body folding like a lawn chair.

There was one more prisoner to go, and before you could even consider thinking about where he went, your spider senses fired off in your head. You don’t know why you did what you did. Any other time you would have flipped out of the way or webbed yourself to safety. You didn’t do either of those. Instead, you turned on your feet and faced the threat, right as that threat impaled you with a machete. The blade went clean through you, in and out. You gasped as blazing, fiery agony erupted to life in your stomach. Blood was quick to pour from the wounds, red staining your suit as you clutched onto the person that stabbed you.

“One spider down. One to go,” he spat as he twisted the blade. You screamed, the cheers from the crowd going silent.

You heard commotion, the attention of the police now on you as they all unholstered their weapons and pointed it at the convict.

“Go ahead!” he barked. “Shoot! Let’s see if you can hit me and not your precious, little hero.”

You’ve gotten your ass handed to you a couple of times, but you had never been stabbed before. It was more agonizing than people made it out to be. Whatever was said about it, did not do it justice. Your vision swam with tears, the pain so intense and nauseating that you thought you were going to pass out. Warm wetness continued to spread, more blood dripping and staining your suit. Stuttering breaths left you. You could hear Peter’s voice in your ear, but it was like he was speaking underwater. You heard his voice, but you didn’t hear his words.

The pain was growing distant, and you thought that it meant that you were going to die, when you felt something happening. Between your body and his, you heard something wet moving. At first, you thought that you were hallucinating, but you saw the prisoner’s face contort in fear as he looked down. He snatched his hand away from the machete’s handle and took a step back.

“What the fuck?!” he exclaimed.

You looked down and saw black, tiny tendrils of oozing mass wrapping around the blade. It traveled, thick and viscous, to the handle, the tendrils wrapping around and around as they moved. From behind, you felt the blade snap, the sharp clang of metal against the asphalt ringing out as the pain in your back disappeared, but you watched in shock as the tendrils flexed and began to push the other half of the broken machete out of your body. That, too, clanged heavily to the ground, the handle and the small bit of remaining broken metal, rolled to a stop to rest heavily in the street. Then, slowly, the tendrils retreated back into your body and out of sight. Your flesh wove itself back together, the pain completely gone. You stood there in a stupor before your hand smoothed down your stomach. Not even a scar. The only evidence of you being stabbed was the large, inches long gash through your suit, and the drying blood that surrounded it. That was all. Beyond that, you felt great, energized.

And pissed.

He just tried to kill you. While your immediate thought had been the pain, your thoughts now shifted to Wanda and how you wouldn’t have saw her again if you died. Though it’d been a few years since she was dusted, to you, it still felt like you just got her back. Now, someone just tried to take you away from her. A fury, the likes of which you hadn’t felt in a really long time, consumed you, and you saw red. You were going to end him where he stood, and you were going to ensure that he couldn’t do to anyone else what he did to you.

Though he couldn’t see your face, the prisoner saw the slow turn of your head as you faced him. He whimpered and started to back away, his hands raised in surrender.

“L-Look, I d-didn’t mean-”

You didn’t let him finish that sentence. You appeared before him in the blink of an eye, there and gone before he could comprehend, and you wrapped your hand around his throat. You hoisted him easily into the air with a grunt and watched emotionlessly as he choked. He tried to pry your hand loose from his neck, but he was too weak. Too feeble. Too breakable.

“D-don’t” he choked out, but you frowned.

“Why?”

You let that one question hang between you and him. His eyes widened, and you said nothing more before you slammed him into the ground. You crouched over his body, grabbed him by the collar of his prison shirt, and punched him again and again. With every connection of your knuckles against his face, a deep satisfaction filled you to the brim. He deserved this. He deserved this for daring to snatch your future with Wanda away like Thanos had. Punching him over and over, feeling his nose break and his jaw shatter beneath your strength filled you with happiness. You smiled as his head snapped back again and again. He went silent minutes ago. The crowd was eerily hushed behind you, and you watched with a sense of accomplishment as his blood splattered all over the ground.

“Stop! Stop!”

A hand grabbed your next punch before it could connect, and you almost retaliated against the person that dared to stop you, a growl leaving your lips, when you came face to face with Peter. You couldn’t see his face beneath his mask, but you could hear the horror in his voice.

“What are you doing?? You’re going to kill him!"

That had been your intentions, but for some reason, hearing it out loud was like an ice, cold bucket of water was dumped on you. The harsh reality of what you almost did dawned on you. You stared at the man, his face almost disfigured beyond recognition, and you could barely hear the beating of his heart. It was sluggish behind his ribs, and wheezy, gurgling breaths left his split lips as he lay unconscious in the street. When you looked down, you saw that his blood coated your hand. It drenched through the material of your suit. You could practically feel the cooling wetness of it on your skin. Your chest heaved as breaths sawed in and out of you, and you stumbled to your feet as you looked around. Everyone was staring at you with a mixture of shock, fear, and alarm. Even the police regarded you with guarded terror.

“Look, I-” you began as you took a step towards one of them, but he quickly raised his gun to you, the grip he had on it trembling with fright.

You stopped in your tracks and clenched your jaw. Then, you turned to look at Peter, who pointed his chin down the street.

“Go,” he whispered.

You listened immediately, and shot a web, grabbing it before launching yourself into the air.

Part 5

#ladies of marvel #the avengers #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #reader insert #x reader #fem!reader #spidey!reader #venom!reader #graphic depictions of injuries #graphic depictions of violence #angst #so much angst #fluff #smut #violence #blood #feelings #lgbtqia

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espithewarlock · 14 days

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A few days ago I posted a Kittierre fic on AO3! HUGE thanks to @chaesonghwas, @your-littlesecret, @boxboxbrioche, and @lydia-petze for leaving me GORGEOUS comments on AO3 and for continuing to go insane about it in the CC Server! 😘

Enjoy this little continuation! (Which will not make sense if you have not read the fic linked above!)

☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

Beep

…

Beep

….

Beep

…

Pierre was woken up by a faint beeping noise coming from further down the bed. The sunlight filtering through the window of Charles’ apartment window was just starting to hit his face and he buried his head in the pillow in annoyance.

He was doubly annoyed to find that his boyfriend was no longer lying next to him so Pierre couldn’t cuddle up and doze for a few more minutes of blissful sleep. Instead, there was a weight next to his left leg and he could feel the combination of the lack of a bedsheet and the air conditioning making the hairs on his leg stand on end.

…

Beep

…

Beep

….

Beep

…

“What are you doing, Cha?” Pierre grumbled into the pillow as the beeping noise continued.

Strangely, he felt the bed violently shake and the man sitting by his leg quickly move off the bed.

“Nothing,” Charles professed, his voice way too nervous to be telling the truth.

That made Pierre crack an eye open and glance over to where Charles was definitely trying to put something away in his bedside drawer without Pierre noticing. It was small, handheld, and Pierre definitely did not recognize it at first glance.

“Cha,” he said in a warning tone. Pierre knew that he didn’t have to elaborate on the demand. He lifted himself up enough to grab Charles’ arm and tug him back into bed.

Thankfully, Charles didn’t fight him and got back into the bed so the two of them could lay on their sides and look at each other. Pierre used the hand he had pinned to prop up his head and his free arm to rest on Charles’ hip. He looked at his boyfriend expectantly while rubbing small circles with his thumb in encouragement.

Charles sighed and blushed a faint, light pink. “It’s stupid,” he muttered.

“Cha,” Pierre said in exasperation. After months of actually dating, now that he was no longer a cat, he didn’t need more than a single exhalation of Charles’ nickname to convey that he never thought that Charles was being stupid.

“I was checking to see if you still had a chip,” Charles mumbled and ducked his head.

That made Pierre pause and furrow his eyebrows. “Huh?” he asked, prompting Charles to elaborate.

“You know,” Charles waved his hand around vaguely, “when I took you to the vet. You got vaccines…and you also got a microchip.”

Pierre’s eyes widened as he remembered what Charles was talking about. When he was stuck as a cat, Charles had taken him to the vet for a series of vaccinations that would allow him to travel with Charles, and the vet had also put a microchip in his leg with Charles’ contact information.

“And you got a scanner to check?” Pierre asked rhetorically. It was actually rather sweet and it piqued his curiosity too.

Charles’ blush turned a darker shade as he nodded his head. Pierre laughed and shuffled closer to his boyfriend to give him a sweet, soft kiss.

“Go get it,” Pierre requested, “I want to know if I still have it too.”

His statement made Charles look at him in surprise, then he twisted around to grab it from his bedside drawer. Pierre obligingly held still as Charles moved it slowly over both of his legs. Once they reached the meat of his upper right thigh, the beep became more of a be-boop and Charles lifted it away from his leg in interest.

When he read what was on the screen, his face turned so red that the tips of his ears changed the same color.

Pierre tried to grab it, but Charles lifted it out of his reach. He smirked, tackled Charles to the bed, and proceeded to pepper him with a mixture of kisses and tickles until Charles was laughing too hard to remember that he was trying to keep something out of Pierre’s hands. He was able to snag the scanning device out of Charles’ grasp and held it up victoriously.

It didn’t look particularly complicated since there was only one button and a fairly small screen no larger than his watch. Pierre held it up to his right thigh, clicked the button, heard the be-boop, and brought it up to his face. (All while kneeling on top of Charles to keep him pinned to the bed.)

“Property of Charles Marc Leclerc,” Pierre read out loud with a smirk, “if found, return to Monaco Veterinary Center. Why, Cha! I never knew you cared so much!”

“I hate you,” Charles mumbled.

“No, you don’t,” Pierre retorted. He threw the device further down the bed and leaned down so he was hovering directly over Charles and could see the embarrassment and amusement in his eyes. Charles was clearly fighting back a smile and Pierre returned it in kind.

“I like it,” Pierre murmured, then proceeded to show his boyfriend exactly what the Property of Charles Marc Leclerc liked to do with his tongue.

— — — — — — — — — —

It became something of a game. More than once, Charles asked if Pierre wanted to get it removed. Every time, Pierre told him absolutely not. He liked the feeling of being, well, not owned but claimed by Charles. The reminder that he belonged to Charles in a private way that nobody else would be able to tell.

So, Pierre did the very logical thing and downloaded an app to his phone that would allow him to change the message that appeared when it was scanned. It was idiot-proof enough to figure out on the first try and he tested his success with the scanning device.

Pierre was almost disappointed that it took Charles a couple of days to notice. Of course, he didn’t have a reason to check the chip, but he hadn’t gotten rid of the device either. That was why Pierre put a sticky note on the back of the device and simply waited for Charles to find it.

He did when they were both getting dressed to head over to Charles’ maman’s place for dinner. They were doing their typical scramble-because-they-are-about-to-be-late dance and Charles pulled the scanner out while he was checking for something in his bedside drawer.

When he lifted the scanner, Pierre tried to hide the smug look that threatened to cross his face when Charles looked befuddled and felt the crinkle of paper under his fingers. Pierre watched him flip the scanner over to read the short message on the sticky note.

Use Me ;)

Charles caught his eye in the mirror and held it up with a questioning look. Pierre shrugged in a casual, innocent way that would definitively tell Charles that he was up to no good.

His boyfriend sighed, rolled his eyes, and walked over to Pierre. “What are you up to, you menace?” Charles asked as he waved the scanner over Pierre’s right thigh until he got the be-boop.

As soon as it made the noise, Pierre grinned. He didn’t need to respond to the rhetorical question.

When you read this, I’m giving you a blowjob. Immediately.

Charles very clearly read the message, his breath caught in his throat, and he whipped his head up to once again meet Pierre’s eyes in the mirror. His face had the strangest mixture of excitement and despair as he noticed Pierre’s killer smile.

“We’re already going to be late,” Charles protested, even as Pierre spun around and pushed Charles to the bed.

“Better come fast then, Cha,” Pierre warned him, sank to his knees, and started working open the button of Charles’ jeans.

He didn’t hear much of a complaint after that.

— — — — — — — — — —

After that, Charles started checking the chip more regularly. Sometimes, he did it when Pierre was asleep, but most of the time he waited until Pierre was awake.

Pierre didn’t change the message every day. Whenever Charles did find the message, Pierre always changed it back to Property of Charles Marc Leclerc just to see the slightly embarrassed yet pleased smile on his face whenever that was the message on the chip.

Other times, Pierre liked to change it up. Sometimes it would be filthy promises which Pierre would gladly fulfill whenever he promised within the message. Sometimes it was just sweet messages like I love you so much mon amour that made Charles melt into his arms with affection. Sometimes, in the mornings before a race, he would put well-wishes. Good luck today Mr. Pole Position!

Regardless, it was fun. It added a little bit of levity to their developing and growing relationship. Pierre didn’t even have to allude to Charles using the scanner since he would fairly reliably check it every single day that they were together.

Almost a year to the day after Pierre returned to his human body, he knew that he was fully committed to the relationship. There were still some days that he questioned what his sexuality was, but his commitment to Charles was never in doubt. Nobody else would be able to fill Pierre’s life like Charles did and he needed to make their connection permanent.

So, he changed the message, stole the scanner so that his surprise wouldn’t be ruined, and brought it with him when they went out on Charles’ yacht. They spent the day in the sun and the water, just the two of them, and had a simple dinner that they fed to each other while they watched the sunset off of the coast of Monaco.

“I’ll be right back, mon amour,” Pierre promised with a quick kiss to Charles’ cheek. He waved him off with a laugh and settled back in his seat.

Pierre quickly retrieved the scanner and slid a small box into the pocket of his swim trunks. He swiftly made his way back to Charles’ left side, pressed their thighs together, and eased the scanner into Charles’ hands.

When Charles looked down, he sighed. “Should I be worried?” Charles asked in resignation, but with his eyes sparkling in amusement.

“It depends,” Pierre said coyly, “do you trust me?”

That made Charles give a show of rolling his eyes, then gamely pressed the button on the scanner next to Pierre’s thigh until he got the be-boop noise.

He looked at Pierre pointedly, then dropped his gaze down to the screen. As soon as he did, Pierre thought he actually stopped breathing for a moment.

I love you, mon amour. Marry me?

Charles’ eyes flashed over to Pierre and he eased his way onto one knee as he pulled out the small box. He opened it carefully to reveal the simple, silver band that would easily blend in with the other rings that Charles liked to wear. The only difference was that this one had an engraving – 10 ♡ 16 – on the inside.

“Well,” Pierre said after a moment, “what do you say, Cha?”

“Yes,” Charles professed and surged forward to kiss him deeply and thoroughly, “yes, of course, yes, yes, yes! I love you, Pierre. So much. Yes, always yes.”

Pierre couldn’t help the delighted laughter that escaped his lips and made sure to not fumble the box or the ring in between all of the kisses that Charles was putting on his lips.

Eventually, he managed to slide the ring onto Charles’ finger and his fiancé looked mesmerized at the simple band. “I love you, mon amour,” Pierre repeated the message from the chip and it was the simple, honest truth.

— — — — — — — — — —

Their wedding day was nothing short of magical. Pierre woke up tangled in Charles’ arms in a hotel suite that was way too far from home with all their families and friends ready to watch the two of them make a lifetime commitment to each other.

The day passed in a blur – getting groomed and ready, making sure someone else had all the last minute details covered, and trying his best to actually show up to the ceremony on time.

All day, Charles was giving him little glances of anticipation (since they didn’t bother with staying separated ahead of the ceremony) and Pierre knew that there was more to the look than eagerness to say their vows to each other.

Pierre had, of course, changed the message on the chip and Charles was waiting on him to give him the scanner to reveal it. But he didn’t.

Seeing Charles across from him at the altar was a vision from his dreams. Charles was dressed in an impeccable tuxedo and looked devastatingly handsome. He had to hold himself back through all the declarations and vows and exchanging much fancier rings with each other, and then he was allowed to kiss his husband.

It was an incredible feeling and Pierre was going to savor it for the rest of his life.

They made it through cocktail hour, dinner, and speeches, then they danced and drank and laughed late into the night. (And, if Pierre pulled Charles into a private bathroom to give him a blowjob, well, nobody commented on how messed up his hair was when they returned.)

When they finally collapsed into bed together at an absurdly early hour of the morning, Charles had a small, red bow wrapped around the scanner waiting for him on the bedside table. Pierre saw him grin, grab the scanner, and hold it up to Pierre’s thigh expectantly.

Pierre waited for the familiar be-boop of the small device and watched as Charles eagerly brought it up to his face, then completely melted into a smile that was pure, unreserved happiness.

He tossed the device to the side and climbed on top of Pierre. All former tiredness was completely gone as Charles leaned down to devour him.

Property of Charles Marc Gasly-Leclerc.

#piarles #10 x 16 #fanf1ction #f1 rpf fic #espi writes stuff!#continuation of the Kittierre fic on AO3!#thank you to everyone who left me comments on this one!#it was so fun to write and I'm glad to post another little bit from it!#(also let it be known that I am actually insane and WILL write continuation scenes if prompted and inspired)#(especially for the people who leave so much love on my fics I love you 🥰)

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secondtechnicianrimmer · 2 months

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Space Corp. Directive #1215225

For some ungodly reason, you fancy the second technician, but you'd be damned if you ever admitted it.

Pairing: Arnold Rimmer x (F) Reader

Warnings: None! Apart from some flirting

Chapter Twelve: Under The Console

“Right, so,” Rimmer shot you a wobbly smile over his shoulder. “You’re going to laugh at this.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“Am I?”

“Er… No.”

Standing in the doorway of Starbug’s cockpit, you tried to read the scanner over his shoulder, but the screen warped and fizzled.

Some bright idea this was turning out to be. Trying in vain to rebuild your relationship with Rimmer, you had invited him to go planet hopping, just to see what you could find and stave off the boredom of deep space for a while. It was just the two of you, which had been nice at first, but when Starbug had failed to take off again, you suddenly felt very alone.

“There's something wrong with the engine,” Rimmer narrowed his eyes at the screen, trying to make sense of the half-gibberish it spouted. “Scanner says the intake manifold is faulty.”

“What’s an intake manifold?”

“It supplies fresh air to the cylinders. It, the throttle body, the filter, and the fuel delivery system ensure the proper mixture of air and fuel is burnt by the engine.”

“Right, so…”

You let the names whirl around your head for a second before giving in. There was no point trying to understand any of that, maybe later when you were home safe and had the time, but definitely not now.

“We can’t take off?”

Rimmer shook his head.

“No.”

“And we can’t fix it because-”

“I can’t touch anything and you don’t know how.”

“And we can’t call for help because-”

“The comms are also down.”

“Right. Okay.”

You stared at Rimmer’s back, right between his shoulder blades. His new, puffy red jacket gleamed under the low lights.

There was a pregnant pause. You both seemed to be exhausting every possible ‘what now?’ in your head. Neither of you landed on an idea.

“You were right,” you said eventually. “I’m not laughing.”

Rimmer’s mouth twisted thoughtfully. He glanced at the windscreen.

“At least the view is nice.”

You heaved a sigh like a punctured tire.

He was right, you were on a lovely planetoid in a very peaceful quadrant. A real turn up for the books.

The northern hemisphere was all ocean, deep and blue and vast. The rest of the planet was made up of rolling, soft, creamy sand. Sometimes the dunes rose thirty to forty feet, marching south as the planet narrowed to its pole.

You’d been having a nice time. Actually, it was the easiest that things had been with Rimmer for a while. Since the psi-moon, you’d been on edge, always skirting around each other and never quite meeting the other’s eye. Slowly, gingerly, you had rebuilt yourselves.

Together, you had walked across the sands, keeping your gaze on the horizon, on the lookout for anything that might be of interest. While Rimmer made notes and spoke into his dictaphone, you took photos with the camera Lister had given you to mark your third year aboard Red Dwarf.

“Used to belong to a mate of mine. Peterson,” he’d said with a sad sort of a smile. “He loved this thing. Someone should get some use out of it, eh?”

So to honour the gift and Lister’s first friend aboard Red Dwarf, you’d taken a leaf out of Rimmer’s book and started to compile an album. You’d seen so many wonderful and terrible places, met so many strange creatures and faced so many mad adventures, you thought someone should start chronicling them all.

The camera now lay in Starbug’s co-pilot’s chair. Its one eye watched you, unblinking.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked. “Just wait here until the others notice we’ve been gone too long?”

“For now.”

Rimmer seemed less than thrilled by the idea but it was the only plan you had.

With another pointless sigh, you sank into the pilot’s seat, grabbing your camera on the way down. You let your legs flop over the arm, wedging your back into the corner so that you could lounge comfortably in the old chair.

“How long do you reckon it’ll be?”

“Who knows.”

Rimmer slumped in the co-pilot’s chair, his back straight and his eyes forward, watching the waves wash upon the shore just a few metres away.

“Not long though, I should think,” he added hopefully. “They know we were only popping out. I suppose they’ll start missing you after a few hours and wonder where you’ve got to.”

“They’ll miss you too, Arnold.”

He didn’t bother arguing. Rimmer just scoffed and turned his head away, pretending to look out over the horizon.

In the distance, a cold blue sun was starting to set. In just a few hours, it would be nighttime, and who knew what might happen on this planetoid then.

You stared out at the slowly darkening sands. There could be all sorts of creatures out there. After everything you’d seen, you wouldn’t be surprised if the beaches opened up and swallowed Starbug whole. Another ship, lost.

“Are you okay?”

Your worry must have started to show. Rimmer’s soft hazel eyes crossed your face, his brow creased with concern behind his H.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Just this is reminding me of the crash. A bit. I think.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Mm?”

“The crew.”

“Oh. Er, sometimes.”

His question surprised you. The boys tended to steer clear of the subject. They hadn’t really mentioned it since the day they found you. There was just always something else going on, you supposed.

And you liked that, you liked that they didn’t dwell on things, and maybe it had helped you get over everything that had happened to you, in a way. But not a day went by where you didn’t think about that night and mourn your other life.

“We’d only known each there for a few weeks before we were put in stasis. I suppose we had a laugh while we were doing basic training.”

Rimmer leant back into the chair and let his head roll towards you, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You don’t ever talk about it.”

It was a question and a statement all wrapped up in one.

You started to fiddle with your camera, any excuse to look away.

“No one ever asks. And I don’t like remembering, really.”

“Maybe it would help.”

“Talking about it? Maybe. But who’d wanna listen to that?”

Rimmer blew out a long breath.

“Well, there’s always the automated psychiatrist in the med bay, I suppose.”

“Great!”

He smiled slightly, watching as your fingers fidgeted with the dials and buttons on the back of the camera.

“I want to listen,” Rimmer said eventually.

You scoffed.

“You?”

“Why not?”

“You don’t care about other people’s problems, Arnie.”

Laughably, he looked offended.

“I do! I know it may seem like I don’t but…” He let his head roll to look out of the windscreen for a moment, then turned back to you. “I do care about you.”

You watched him, waiting for a sign that he was kidding, that he was lying, but Rimmer merely watched you back, waiting for you to speak.

Finally, you let out a long breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

“When I was assigned, I knew I’d be leaving everything behind. We were travelling to the other end of the universe. I had to say goodbye to all my friends, my family. I was never, ever going to them again, apart from through video messages. But at the time, it felt worthwhile because I would be doing something incredible. For the greater good, you know? Something that mattered. Now I’m stuck here. And it wasn’t worth it at all.”

“There must be some things you like about us.”

“Well, I love you all, don’t get me wrong.” You shot Rimmer a wry smile that he faintly returned. “But I have no useful skills, no future, no purpose. I don’t even know what an intaker manifold is.”

“Intake. It’s a-”

“I know, I know.” You waved a hand. “I just mean, I… I feel like a spare part.”

Rimmer, to his credit, seemed sympathetic. It also seemed like he wasn’t sure what to say to that. And fair enough, it was a worry that had been nagging at you for years. You weren’t expecting any sort of insight, it was just nice to say the words out loud and formulate them into a solid thought.

That said, you were still surprised when the first thing Rimmer said was,

“Spare parts.”

You frowned.

“What?”

He perked up, his eyes wide and excited. Suddenly he was out of his chair and tumbling out of the cockpit.

“Come with me!”

Rimmer led you to a shelf, raised high above your head in Starbug’s living quarters.

Standing on the couch, you reached up and pulled down a grey box. Written across the front in messy black pen were the words ‘Kryten - Emergencies Only’.

“I’d say this counts as an emergency,” Rimmer grinned. “Forget that rubber-headed Akela.”

Laying side by side beneath the console, your legs sticking out and almost tangling, you prised a rectangular cover away from the underside of the controls.

Beside you, Rimmer hummed to himself, taking in the myriad of wires and strange blinking lights.

You didn’t question him out loud but a small part of you couldn’t help worrying. Rimmer had failed his exams countless times and really didn’t have a knack for electronics. If pressed, you would’ve said he was much better suited for something creative, what with all his big ideas and colour-coding skills. But he would never in another three million years admit that.

There was one light not shining. Next to it ran a long number: 839/28027.M_COMMS.765

“Alright,” Rimmer squeezed his eyes shut, wracking his brains. “This isn’t so different from the maintenance work I used to do. It shouldn’t be too difficult?”

He looked at you, practically begging for reassurance.

You smiled and raised your hands.

“You’ve got this, Arn. Just tell me what to do.”

“Didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that.”

You bit your tongue, keeping an instinctive suggestive response trapped behind your teeth.

It was always so easy to flirt with him. Maybe because he was always so receptive. Maybe because you just loved doing it. Maybe because every time you did, Rimmer would look at you all dopey and flustered, his eyelids heavy and his lips parted. But you didn’t think you could take a look like that right now, not when you were in such close proximity.

“So,” You wriggled your shoulders, getting more comfortable on the cold, hard floor. “What’s first?”

Together, you slowly, nervously fixed the comms. While Rimmer tried to remember everything he’d learnt from his textbooks, you waited for each instruction patiently, only moving when he was sure of what to do next.

You unscrewed a tiny panel, checking each part to make sure they weren’t fried, switched out wires and cogs and an all manner of other bits and bobs until finally, Rimmer seemed satisfied.

“Connect this wire to here.”

He pointed at a threatening red wire, then a stubby copper cylinder.

You shot Rimmer a cautious sideways glance.

“Are you sure?”

You were putting an awful lot of trust in a man who had killed himself and several thousand others because of a mechanical fault he failed to fix. The H on his forehead - “A mark of Able,” Rimmer had once said. “Rather than a mark of Cain.” - was a constant reminder of that mistake.

You expected him to hesitate but Rimmer nodded, his gaze steady. And you realised you trusted him, without a shadow of a doubt.

You wrapped the frayed wire around the cylinder until it was secured, then tucked your fingertip over it and gave an experimental tug, but it didn’t give way.

“That’s it,” Rimmer murmured, and you could hear the smile in his voice before you turned your head to him. “That’s perfect. You’re amazing.”

You were glad it was so dark under the console, your face was starting to burn.

“Now what?”

Rimmer shrugged.

“Hold your breath, count to three and make a wish.”

So you did. You pulled in a long breath, then reached up and flipped the comms switch. The light flickered, then began to burn a bright glorious green.

Grinning, you turned your head to Rimmer, only to find he was already looking at you. Wedged under the console, there was hardly any room between you. His head was level with yours and if you’d been able to, you knew your body would have been pressed up against his.

The lights above you scattered colour across Rimmer’s face, catching in his hair, his eyes, the corner of his mouth. You’d read about old Earth traditions, about how your ancestors would hang mistletoe in doorways and kiss to celebrate the turn of winter. That’s how it felt, just you and Rimmer under the warm lights, pressed up against each other, practically sharing one breath. You were halfway out of the dark.

“What did you wish for?” you whispered.

Slowly, though without any hint of shyness or uncertainty, Rimmer’s gaze fell to your lips.

Heart racing, you had to force yourself not to wriggle around too much, but you weren’t used to being looked at so closely.

If you could send a message to yourself - to the you that spent her first few weeks aboard Red Dwarf terrified and confused - you thought you might try and warn her that she’d soon be falling for the moron who, at the time, had avoided you like the plague. She wouldn’t believe you, that you knew for sure.

“You know you glow, don’t you,” you said quietly.

Rimmer frowned.

“Just a bit,” you added quickly. “You’re- I know your light bee projects- You just- When it’s dark, you glow.”

It was something you only noticed after a few years of knowing him. If you caught him in the right light and he was, for once, fairly still instead of jittering and fussing about the place, the light Rimmer gave off was soft and oddly ethereal for someone so intensely irritating.

Rimmer still hadn’t looked away.

“No one’s ever told me that before,” he murmured.

“Oh,” Embarrassed, you gave him a weak smile. “Maybe it’s just me who notices.”

Rimmer opened his mouth but a whining, fizzling chord of static shot out of the comms, so abruptly and so sharply that you jumped and clunked your head on the underside of the console.

“Ow, fuck!”

“Rimmer? Lefty? Is that you?”

You watched Rimmer’s eyes widen as you both recognised the voice at the same time.

“Lister!”

You scrambled out from under the console and slammed your hand down in the receiver.

“Dave, can you hear us?”

“I hear you, loud and clear! How’s the honeymoon, guys?”

“Lister, we’ve broken down,” Rimmer sighed. “We need you to come get us.”

“No way! Why didn’t you say? Have you got coordinates?”

After relaying all the relevant information, Lister signed off with his typical happy-go-lucky cheer, and you were alone again.

“See?” Rimmer grinned at you. “Not so useless, after all.”

“I didn’t do anything. You knew how to fix it, I was just a pair of hands.”

“We make a good team.”

“Yeah, right.” You snorted as you flopped back down in the pilot’s chair again. “I’m just your- What’s them sticks with the grabber at the end?”

“Grabbers.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Rimmer made himself comfortable in the co-pilot’s chair again.

He looked much more at ease now that he knew help was on the way. You wondered if there was still a part of him, even now, that felt responsible for you, even though you weren’t even officially part of his crew and, actually, a few rungs higher than him. Actually, you were practically on a completely different ladder but you thought it best not to mention that.

“You’d be good at that,” Rimmer smirked. “I remember you being pretty grabby on that psi-moon.”

The air in Starbug shifted. Your smile vanished with the warm atmosphere, like someone had opened the cargo door mid-flight.

You hadn’t talked about the kiss since it happened. Rimmer hadn’t brought it up after the way you snapped at him, and you couldn’t even really believe it had happened.

You could still feel it though, when you went to bed at night and everything was calm and quiet and dark. Your body remembered the way he had pressed into you, the way his mouth had moved against yours so urgently, how Rimmer had chased your lips and moaned into your mouth when you squeezed his waist, the first physical contact he’d felt in millennia.

Cheeks burning, you sneered back.

“And you were pretty grabby on the Enlightenment from what I remember.”

It was a low blow. For the most part, you’d let the hurt of Rimmer’s abandonment go. It was years ago now and the pain had dulled; it was poor form to use it against him like that. But sometimes a sharp uppercut was the only thing that made Rimmer think about what he was saying.

His smirk sank into a look so guilty, you almost apologised. But you didn’t. Instead, you pushed through the cold fog to pick at the old wound.

“How did it feel to have sex for the first time in three million years?” you asked quietly, hoping a bit of humour might grease the wheels. “Be honest.”

Rimmer shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Oh, it was… It was okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Well, I was- You know she was nice. I just don’t think I was really in the right state of mind. Or even in my right mind. I don’t know. You go from feeling excluded and pointless to suddenly being able to feel and eat and- It made me go a bit mad, I think. Like when we swapped bodies and I ate that entire Christmas dinner.”

“Yeah, I didn’t appreciate that one.”

“But you remember how it felt? To be a hologram?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was-” You hesitated. For some reason, you felt the urge to confess. “I looked.”

Rimmer frowned.

“Looked where?”

“I asked Holly to- I looked.”

“Oh.”

It went quiet again. You watched colour rise up from under Rimmer’s jacket.

“Oh, well,” He swallowed hard. “That’s… That’s alright.”

Suddenly, Rimmer could look everywhere apart from you.

You smiled.

“You looked too, didn’t you.”

“Yes, but only very briefly and it was dark.”

Silence fell again.

You didn’t think you’d ever seen Rimmer look so deeply uncomfortable. The redness had risen up to his cheeks now. He was almost the same colour as his jacket.

“So,” he said after a moment, clearing his throat. “What did you think?”

“Honestly?” You tilted your head, pretending to think about it just to make him sweat. “Good.”

Rimmer brightened.

“Good?”

“Yeah, very good. Great, even.”

“Really?”

“And, er…?”

“Oh, yeah, Io, amazing. Marvellous.”

Before you knew it, you had burst out laughing.

“Amazing? Really?”

“God, yes. You’re- Well, I’ve always thought you were beautiful but…”

He seemed to realise what he’d said long after the words had left his mouth, but to your delight, Rimmer didn’t try to backtrack or bail, though he did look a little sheepish.

Again, your mind wandered to the man you met all those years ago. That Rimmer would have made that fun choking, squeaking sound he used to make whenever he accidentally showed a bit of humanity. He would’ve legged it or changed the subject or muttered something insulting. Not now though.

The man sitting across from you was still as stubborn and arrogant as ever. He got on your nerves at least three times a day and he was never happy if he wasn’t belittling the people around him. Rimmer was so highly strung you could run a bow across him and play Vivaldi. He was ill-tempered and smug and- He made you smile. He made you laugh. When you were with him, you didn't feel quite so lost and alone. He thought you were beautiful. And when you kissed him, he kissed you back.

Lister was right. That smarmy git. He was always right.

“Rimmer, I-”

A low, grumbling sort of sound interrupted you.

You sat up, throwing an arm around the headrest so that you could twist around in your seat. You couldn’t see anything but it seemed to be coming from deep in the ship.

“Arn?”

“I heard it.”

He had sat up ramrod straight, his eyes wide. Rimmer glanced at the scanner beside him. It appeared to produce no useful information, and out of range of Holly, you had nothing more to go on.

Like startled animals, you slowly picked yourselves up out of your chairs and headed deeper into Starbug.

Surprisingly, Rimmer led the way. He stuck his arms out like a scarecrow to keep you back by a pace, and if you hadn’t been so nervous, you might’ve fallen in love with him a little bit more.

The engines growled as they rolled and chewed up what little fuel remained. The low, steady hum of machinery that usually accompanied Starbug sitting in neutral had shunted up an octave, punctured by a rough, grating sound, like a rock tumbler in an empty oil drum.

“Is that the… Integer manifest?” you whispered.

It felt like you were watching a dangerous animal, and to move too suddenly or to make any noise might startle it into attacking.

“Er…” Rimmer had gone pale. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

He took a tentative step forwards and almost immediately, the engines whirred harder and spat out a spray of sparks.

Panicking, you tried to grab his arm to pull him back, but stopped before your hand passed through him.

“Be careful!”

“It’s fine, I know what I’m-”

The engines sparked again. Suddenly, the hurdy-gurdying flew up to a pitch so high, you had to cover your ears. You stumbled back as the engine roared. Smoke poured out and pooled around your feet.

“Oh, smeg,” Rimmer muttered.

A shriek of electricity, looking for a home, shot out of the engine and into the floor by your feet. It was a close call. Then suddenly, another bolt shot out.

You didn’t have time to react. Before you could stop him, Rimmer jumped in front of you, his arms spread wide. Then he was gone.

“No!”

You stumbled to the floor, landing unceremoniously on your arse. But your eyes stayed fixed on the small, cylindrical chunk of metal that fell to the floor at your feet. Rimmer’s light bee.

“Oh, you fucking- You fucking idiot, Arnold.”

The engine gave in, collapsing in on itself and finally, finally giving up the ghost. It hissed and groaned as it began to cool, and you tumbled forward to scoop up Rimmer’s light bee.

“Oh, God. Oh, God, your-”

You cradled it between two hands, more precious than any diamond. The shell was cracked and splintered, and from in-between the fissures leaked a small puff of grey smoke.

“You stupid man. What have you done?”

You sat back, collapsing against the wall of the ship. Holding Rimmer’s light bee aloft, you tried to catch any sign that it was still working, that he was still alive. There was a faint light within, a dim glow, just an ember, but it was something.

With a sob, you pressed it against your chest, your instincts telling you to keep him close, to keep him warm. You squeezed the light bee in your palm, so hard that you were almost afraid of making the cracks worse.

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” you whispered. “I don’t know if this thing is even working. But if it is, and you can, I want you to listen to me closely, Arnold Rimmer.”

You pulled the light bee back so that you could look him in the eye. Held tightly in your hand, it seemed so small and helpless.

“If you wake up,” you said. “If this thing blinks into life again and you appear, yapping and snarking about Io knows what, I promise I will kiss you so hard you’ll see stars.”

As if to prove you weren’t lying, you pressed your lips to his light bee, then again just to be sure.

You stared at it, as if it were a magic lamp, as if kissing it might break the spell and wake him up again, like in the fairytales you’d grown up with. But he didn’t.

“Just come back.” You pressed the light bee back to your chest, hoping he’d be able to hear your heartbeat and take solace from it. “Please come back.”

It was hours before they found you.

Night had fallen completely and the ship was still and cold. You didn’t want to miss the others if they passed by, so you stayed in the cockpit rather than heading to the sleeping quarters.

You were just starting to nod off, Rimmer’s light bee still clutched tightly to your chest, when you saw a flash of white light pass by the ship.

Just a few minutes later, the door slid open and Lister stepped in, a cigarette perched debonairly between his smiling lips.

“Y’alright, miss?” He removed his ciggie so he could grin at you. “Your taxi’s here.”

You had never been so relieved to see anyone in your life. But you had only one thought as Lister came over to you.

You held the light bee up to him, tears blurring your vision.

“Help him.”

Next Chapter

Master List

#red dwarf #arnold rimmer #chris barrie #my post #arnold rimmer imagine #arnold rimmer reader #arnold rimmer smut #arnold rimmer x reader #arnold rimmer x you #arnold rimmer you

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pareidoliaonthemove · 7 months

Text

The Question

“Did you even think of us?”

Jeff Tracy had though his heart couldn’t hurt any more than it had for the past however-many-days he had been sat beside this hospital bed.

He had been wrong.

Virgil lay weakly in the bed, his flushed and sweaty face seemed to radiate heat, his limp hair plastered in sweaty strings to his forehead. Fever bright, glazed eyes focused on his father, seeming to recognise the man in the chair beside him for the first time in days.

That recognition should be reason to celebrate.

The question was not.

“Every day, Virgil. I thought of you boys every day –”

“Did you think of us at all?”

Virgil was obviously not hearing his reply, and as Jeff looked again, Virgil’s gaze was directed towards him, but not focused as he had originally thought.

“Why didn’t you take a second to work through the consequences? Because there were so many consequences …” Virgil’s voice faded out as Jeff stared, baffled.

“Consequences?” he asked, not expecting an answer. Virgil remained silent, eyes closed.

They were obviously coming at this from different angles, but for the life of him, Jeff couldn’t fathom what Virgil was asking. He’d spent eight years stuck alone on that rock, with no real hope of rescue, longing for the family half a solar system away. What consequence …?

“One was there. Could have bailed out and remote flew her to intercept.”

Realisation slammed into Jeff like a freight train, dropping his stomach to the level of the basement, while the bitter stale coffee he’d managed to swallow surged up his throat, burning and choking him. The roaring of blood in his ears seemed impossible as his heart convulsed, seeming so squeeze into the smallest possible space in his chest, radiating physical pain in every direction.

The train would have hurt less.

And, perfectly timed to rub salt into his wounds, Virgil opened his eyes. “Did you even think of us? Or was this just an opportunity to be the great hero again?”

“I …” Jeff’s voice failed him, as the door opened and his mother slipped into the room.

“How’s …?” Apparently it was the day for sentences trailing off into nothingness, Jeff thought bitterly. Although, his mother didn’t remain silent for long. There was the sound of fabric rustling, and then she spoke again, “Scott, Virgil’s awake, but not coherent. I need you to come and sit with him, while I deal with your father.”

There was a muffled noise that could only be Scott’s acknowledgement of the instruction, and then footsteps as his mother approached the bed.

“Whatever he’s said, he doesn’t mean it.”

“Oh, he meant it,” the words tasted like bile on his tongue. “He just wouldn’t normally say it.”

There was a soft knock on the door, before it opened, and Scott slid in, still breathing heavily from his flat-out sprint to get here, before firmly closing the door behind him.

“What’s the situation?” Scott asked softly, eyeing both his brother and father.

Jeff smiled wryly. “Virgil’s lost his mind to mouth filter.” The smile dropped. “He … blames me.”

Sally wrapped a comforting arm around her son’s shoulder. “I sincerely doubt it, whatever you think this is about.” She dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “Virgil’s very sick with the fever. You know how fever can cause people to hallucinate, say things they don’t mean.”

Scott stepped up. “We’ve been here before, Dad,” he said softly. “Virg …” he sighed. “Fevers really do a number on Virgil. He spouts all sorts of nonsense.”

Virgil stirred again. “Could have prevented so much …” he faded back into sleep. And the very-much-not retired Dr Sally Tracy examined the readings from the bed’s built-in med-scanner.

“He’s condition’s improving, this is just a phase to be ridden out. He’s still disorientated from the hallucinations, and reacting to whatever it is he ‘saw’.”

Jeff wasn’t placated, but he allowed his mother to pull him to his feet, and lead him out the door, Scott taking his place by the bed.

Jeff glanced over his shoulder as the door slid shut, Virgil’s eyes were open again, and his mouth was moving. Jeff didn’t have the heart to make the effort to lip read his son’s words.

Notes:

It’s often said that the real victims of a suicide are the people who are left behind. I know that Jeff’s big damn hero moment wasn’t strictly suicide, but it wasn’t a textbook example of self-preservation, either. So I’m all in for the idea that the boys' grief process was complicated by the same kind of questions that follow on from a suicide.

And that complicated grieving process was always going to complicate ‘the return’.

I don’t subscribe generally to the ‘Jeff is a bad dad’ idea (except in a couple of particularly well executed instances), but nobody is perfect, and sometimes there are no good choices.

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

#fanfic #my fanfic #thunderbirds are go #virgil tracy #jeff tracy #scott tracy #grandma tracy #fever #delirium #grief

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7twdi29ot5y8og6ndze7m7wexn29cm24 · 1 year

Photo

Where is my mind?

An abandoned oil rig stands in for the garden of Eden. A garden is a walled space with vegetation. It contains encrypted knowledge of good and evil. 777 terabytes of data contained in a single gram of DNA. Wiping a tear off your cheek. Salty.

The ocean is grey. Makes you feel like there's something wrong with it. What's the word? 'Contaminated' Mandate Tonic, Dance Titan Om, An albatross has swallowed an Evian bottle. When 2 become 1.

Like all people, they contained multitudes. Like all situations, this was several situations at once. sometimes I looked away and ate peanuts and drank Club Mate. Sometimes I thought about what time it was. Then I was on the verge of tears. Then I laughed a lot.

420 Park Avenue Drexciya François Rabelais Quake 7 Arena Caiman Nearness Arcane Sans Mine Amnesia Scanner

In a taxicraft. Magnetic hover. Tunnels. Plebs light fires and roast stray cats. Taste memory of gnawing on stringy cat meat. Cats are mostly bones and fur. Memories of paper money, also on fire. Memories of diamonds. Rare minerals, tea bowls repaired with gold. Kintsugi. Gnu I Kits. King Suit. Nothing less than a 1000 years old.

Street view, upper level: Gregorian monks in technical fabrics. Robes with mesh and intelligence. UV face tattoos glow in the dark. Yellow contacts, sharp fangs. Monks are chanting: Google Krishna, Shrinkage Go Lo, Angels Rig Hook, Regal Kings Ooh,

Ice cream melting on his chest. Yourdicklooksgreatinthoseheels.com Handguns, rare butterflies. elaborate prison tattoo of a tiger in mid leap. Augmented reality contact lenses. Red bull energy drink. Fleshlight. Shell fight. Septum streched, thicker rings are more beautiful. chain on neck. Bull ring on nose. Fake lashes. AFK lashes. Nails so long that these hands can no longer grab things. Voice control override. This could be us but you playin'

thunderdome thunderdome anagrams

We're gonna take everything before we secess. We need more weapons. Hi-speed Wi-Fi provided by drones is a given. Arab money in ciphered currencies. Treasure island. Buccaneers and buried gold.

A stream of more or less violent crimes. What was violence again?

Floor 312. We're there. I hand the driver a flake of skin and a fingernail.

The oil rig. A bird flies over. We extend our arm and stand completely still. Bird lands. Bird makes sound. Gently touch bird. It lets that happen. Bird says: ______________ . Identify bird: sparrow. Place filter on sparrow. Mosaic, turbulent displace, hue/saturation. Bird is simplified, jagged edges, orange for now.

scan

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cortexrules · 25 days

Text

Attention, inhabitants of Cortex Castle!

This is your esteemed boss writing to bring ease to all of your worried minds. I know too well what horrid thoughts have been plaguing you all as of late. Fret no more - I'm alive and back up on my two feet! If yet, not straying too far from any bathrooms as of now.

I am also writing this message to let you all know that the water filtering system has run its course and the castle tap water is once again safe to utilize! The new scanners will momentarily be up and running, too. Courtesy of Nouvelle Cortex, my grandmother. No stray infectious agent will pass by their vigilant detectors unnoticed! Fool me once, Igma.

We are also freshly stocked on charcoal pills and fluid replecements! Grab your fill over at the HR office.

This has been a trying episode for all of us, I know, but it is through hardship like this that we are reminded of how very brave and strong we are. Even those of us, nay, especially those of us who might have… cried their way through the majority of this awful ordeal. Not mentioning any names! So brave though!

If there should be any complaints regarding how this situation has been handled, simply remember that it is Dr. Igma who has so callously violated your insides - completely unprompted! I strongly recommend that you direct all of your dismay towards her germ filled bunker. Coordinates available upon request!

That is all for now! I sense another dunny interlude approaching anyways…

Oh, mommy..!

#Boss speaking!

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missterious-figure · 2 months

Text

I plan on making these two new aus at some point.

(Both take place in the far future)

Wild Ones au:

Radiation and a mysterious horrible disease have plagued the earth. Humans moved into the atmosphere in humongous space domes. 400 years go by and the earth's surface is vastly different. Creatures and plants have mutated at an astonishingly fast rate. The radiation has been filtered from the planet and the disease is virtually gone. But even though scientists had made a antibiotic for it ages ago, most didn't really want to go back down. Life up in space seemed so much better. Plus, they knew nothing about the strange new creatures that roamed the earth.

You weren't like most. You had heard stories and seen pictures of things down on earth from long ago. You wanted to go down there. And when you were old enough to, you did. You are now a scientist. You were going to make your home on earth and nobody was going to stop you. You gathered as much supplies as possible, a bunch of sketch books for you to doodle in, and lots of old fashioned cameras and your bio-scanner. You got into your little ship and set off on your merry way.

When you got there, things were more amazing than you had ever imagined. There were creatures down here that you had never seen pictures of. Plenty of lush rainforest. Now you needed to start getting things set up. You transformed your ship into a house with a click of your keys. You started unloading your stuff. A branch snapped in the trees.

High above, a strange large, almost humanoid, creature stared down at you. It was clinging tightly to a tree trunk with it's muscular arms and legs. It's body was light yellow, with darker yellow markings that ran all the way down to it's tail. You wished you could get a better look at it. Blinking slowly, it tilted it's head that had funny looking frills on it. With one mighty leap, it was out of sight. Damn. To bad. Maybe you'll see it again... for now unpacking was top priority.

Storms and Robots au:

This one is abit less thought out.

(Cyberpunk setting)

You're an experiment that has escaped your facility. They called you Stormbird. You have the ability to summon thunderstorms, shoot lightning and hear electric signals of any kind, including phone calls and texts. You also have hologram-looking wings that can disappear and reappear on demand.

Sun and Moon are robots that are specifically made to catch top-tier experiments. They were begged to catch you and bring you back. Both love the thrill of the hunt, and after hearing how powerful you were supposed to be, they gladly agree. Now the hunting shenanigans begin.

Notes. The facility that created you is very abusive towards you. Sun and Moon don't know that though. They think you're just a naughty little rulebreaker who needs to be brought down a peg.

(Both stories are subject to change.)

#fnaf dca #dca au #dca moon #dca sun #fnaf au #dca fandom

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musubiki · 9 months

Note

The thought about lovestruck Coco is so sweet considering her tough personality!!! Is there a possibility for shy/blushy coco?

OH YEAH!!!!!! i believe i may have mentioned this once or twice before but taffy has NO filter when it comes to like...appropriate times to say extremely romantic things. hes never loved anyone like that before and hes never been around couples much, so he really has no idea what's "normal" and what's "not normal," which shows up most often as like, him blurting out very romantic sentiments casually and is then confused when EVERYONE is red in the face (coco mostly, but the others are lowkey embarrassed just hearing it out loud)

like they'll just be doing some normal shit. standing in the walmart checkout line, coco flipping through some celebs news magazine and mutters out something like "damn this girl is hella pretty. (on the cover)", and when she shows it to taffy like "Hey man, any thoughts on this one--" he just blurts out (loudly) "I don't care about whoever that's supposed to be. I am insanely in love with you-- you're the most breathtaking woman I've ever seen in my life and I don't see the point in looking at this person when you're right in front of me."

(checkout line falls silent, coco is red faced, man behind them coughs and scratches his neck, nothing but the beeping of the checkout scanner fills the air)

ya know, things you would hear at the climax of a hallmark romance movie in the rain over a balcony type shit and he just says it while putting a bag of grapes on the checkout strip like he was ordering from mcdonalds

at a certain point coco (or oscar, or mochi, or lime) go "You can't just SAY shit like that with so many other people around, dude!" and he goes "Why not? That's how I feel."

#oh taffy.............#coco obviously appriciates it either way. its nice to hear #but i think she would enjoy it more if 15 people werent around awkwardly glancing at them for the next 2 minutes

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k00299539 · 2 months

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Animation Brief 01 - Week 2 - Parallax Background

Above: Snufkin just chillin

Putting together a full parallaxed background was the biggest individual step in our "World Building" brief, which is why I kept putting it off. I was told by Yvonne that the work had to be produced physically before being digitally composited, for someone who hates painting this was bad news.

I guess like always, the first step was research and gathering reference. I chose Tove Jansson as my artist-to-emulate which proved a bit of a headache in itself. Jansson was prolific and diverse, working with different styles in different mediums regularly in her seven decades long career. A lot of my favourite works of hers are simple black ink on white paper illustrations. But mimicking that style would've gone against the spirit of the project.

I decided to buy a beginners set of gouache paint for a tenner and try to emulate her painted work, the likes of which can be seen on the covers for her children's books. I'd never used gouache before so I don't really know what I was thinking, other than that I knew I was sick of acrylic. Anyway, the first step was a sketch.

Above: Yeah not much going on...

Honestly looking back on this I probably should have spent more time drafting a good composition and actually thinking through the shot I was intending to make. It's not that I didn't give it any thought, just that when you're on a tight schedule and commit to an idea, you're stuck with it. The longer I worked on this project the less I liked it, a bit more foresight at the beginning could've helped prevent that. Ah well.

The composition I went with was a combination of a couple of my landscape sketches. I decided with my "mini-me" limited to being shot from the shoulder up, a horizontal parallax would work best. Basically a simple side-scrolling shot, like holding a camera out a car window. I took the forest backdrop from Cratloe Woods, the classic Irish dry-stone wall from the farm, and I threw in some road signs (and Snufkin) for a bit of fun. The only problem was now I had to paint it...

Above: A real Artíst's palette...

I had no idea how to use gouache. I even used the regular ass paper from my sketchook which was probably a mistake considering the number the water did on it. I started out dampening the paper a bit before going over the major areas with a wash of an approximate colour. You can really tell I worked left to right on the wall because it gets slightly less shitting as your eyes pan across it. The wall was great fun in general, basically just laying down shadows, darkening the crevices and building up the tone. I think I overworked it looking back, although that's true for the painting in general.

Above: Cameos

Don't have much to say about these sketches, I was working fast and trying to have fun with them while keeping in Jansson's style. Also if it's not obvious I take all these photos at night when there's no natural light cause I'm stupid...

Above: Ignore the giant pile of rubbish, I cleaned it up after I promise

At first I really wasn't happy with the treeline in my first painting so I tested out some ideas on another sheet. I liked how it turned out, and I was thinking of incorporating it into the animation, but as the trees are the furthest element in the composition, they will move the least in the parallax shot, making it a bit infeasible. I did reuse the bushes as a foreground element though.

The next step was a tedious one, scan the water-warped paintings on my shitty scanner, disassemble them in Photoshop and stitch the edges as to make them tileable. Honestly I actually enjoy this kind of tedious Photoshop work, I just hated my painting and the shot in general so having to look at them over and over wasn't exactly fun.

Anyway, having made liberal use of the offset filter in Photoshop I had all the layers cut and tileable and ready to import into After Effects. I kind of suck at After Effects so this took longer than it should have. I tried to create the parallax effect in an old school manner by parenting all the layers together and setting a keyframe on their position, and adjusting their start position individually to control the speed at which each layer scrolled. Sounds easy.

I wasn't. Apparently I can't parent properly cause it was anarchy trying to control the speed of the individual layers. Eventually I just watched a Youtube tutorial and used that guy's method, creating a new camera and parenting everything to a null object, then moving the individual layers back in z-space to create the parallax effect as the camera pans.

I'm tired as I write this and I'm unsure how intelligible it is. Here's the horses mouth explaining things if you want to watch for yourselves:

youtube

The worst part is after all that it's still just a rough composite. Even beyond the obvious absence of my mini-me, there's a lot of problems in regards to the speed of the individual layers, the foreground elements look more like they're moving on a treadmill than receding in space. A particular cardinal sin I committed was not matching the speed of the grounded elements to the ground on which they're well, grounded.

Anyway I can fix all that later, I'm just sick of looking at it for now.

#lsad #art #animation #world building #Youtube

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pandorafallz · 3 months

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Lest We Rest Upon Our Graves | C8

Alma hadn’t dared mention what she had seen to Reeves. Not the woodsprite nor the possible cave or where she had gone, she had simply mentioned she thought she saw something but it was probably just a sick animal caught in the smog. Was Reeves convinced, probably not but the doctor didn’t look like she cared at all; as long as she wasn’t doing anything ‘stupid’ that would get her killed.

It meant that in the days following the woodsprite ‘incident’, Alma hadn’t found the time to go back without her absence being noticed until Dr Reeves had been called back to the Resistance Hideout and so, she had the doc take her mushroom samples back for Alexander to look into after her initial research showed some positive results from smog tests in the lab.

Alma decided to take the chance when it presented itself to her. She left a customary note if the doc got back early at the very least before she had set off and had a story in mind if she was caught but, she had confidence she had timed everything well. On her belt packs, she did have some food and water. Her knife was sharp, a flashlight on her belt and she packed a small sample kit with her scanner in before she set off back into the smog.

The smog remained around for only a quarter of the way before she entered the clear patch. There were still little signs of animal life which was an indication that the smog kept things far away so retrospectively, an animal attack was less likely to occur than if she was walking normally through the Clouded Forest. No huge animal to sneak up on her.

The air that tickled across her skin had a soft chill to it as she continued, enough to make her shiver but nothing more than that; ever the reminder of what she was missing out. No more smells of the plant life. It ached her heart for a moment.

Her eyes trailed around as she found the spot she had stopped at days ago, taking a moment to properly orientate herself before she caught sight of the rock crevice from a bobbing woodsprite that was still about. Alma hurried towards it curiously; she didn’t want anything to pull her away again (even if it was unlikely).

Indeed, to her observations, it was an entrance to some sort of cave. Like a crack through the rock foundation of the shallow hillside that stood around the flat land between trees. The entrance reached about two metres in height but width-wise… it was very narrow and she could see enough to see some bioluminescent moss on the inside. Alma could see she’d have to crawl through to get in comfortably. There was no way a Na’vi would squeeze through that gap unless they were a child themselves. Small blessings, she supposed.

Perfect for little, old human her.

After checking to make sure her mask filter wasn’t at risk of being knocked or broken as Alma knelt and began to make her way in carefully. Her arm ached which was another consistent reminder that she was neglecting her doctor’s word of care, nonetheless, she did try to use her elbow against the wall side as more support than directly onto her hands.

The front of her trousers became with damp moss and the coldness of the rock inside was sharp on her bare skin but the rock was not as deep as she expected. Four feet of cracked stone before the gap opened right up into an open space but it also opened downwards from the angle of the moss along the floor and seemed to invite her further in.

How big would this cave turn out to be, she couldn’t fathom. While her scanner was good, it was old and for cave scanning; she was ill-equipped. Another time, she’d need better tech once she knew what was down here.

Alma carefully got back to her feet. “Fuck!” she hissed a little as she cracked her splint against the uneven wall side, her hand hastily withdrawing back to her chest but from her belt, she tugged her flashlight free and with a click, allowed its light to filter into the moss-light darkness (not that the moss produced enough light for her eyes).

The tunnel was indeed showing a direct tunnel down, wide and tall but… looking at the crack way out was off for such a wide internal system. Was it a broken fissure of some kind? A windy pit? Pandora had plenty of heat outlets. Why such a small entry for a big structure?

Alma licked her lips a little thoughtfully but allowed herself to step on and slowly follow the tunnel. There were… no other passageways that split off. Deep crevasses in the wall but never amounted to anything but lichen (she’d take a sample back for Alex as a gift)

All in all, it took only a few minutes before the tunnel evened out from its decline and a soft turn to the left before there was a wall of foliage. Like glowing ivy but she could feel a tickle of breeze against her skin so she pushed the curtain aside and gasped.

The tunnel gave way to a massive chamber, circular in shape with only a few natural rough edges and the whole space was lit with bioluminescent life. Ivy coated the walls, along with lichen, moss and roots that spread across the stone floor and up the walls.

But… at the far end, there was brightest plant in the room was… a tree. A small beautiful tree that looked to be perhaps a sapling of sorts; white and moss-green bark but the branches tiled off with long pinkie-yellow tendrils that were like willows. There was… almost a dais of roots that came from its trunk; some of the roots had even a small pond down the left side but Alma couldn’t see that far on if it had life.

She knew the tree; much like the ones at Glade of Light, or maybe a sapling like the Tree of Souls. Those were stunning sites of Eywa and there was a soft comfort in being there. Here…it felt different. It felt…sad.

The yellow in the tendrils immediately flagged concern; they were white naturally but they were turned pink at night. Yellow was often an indicator of a deficiency or a disease but of what, Alma knew she had to take samples to find out; she couldn’t connect to see but the fact this was a… site of Eywa would make it far more complicated if the Na’vi found out. They couldn’t come down here.

Was that why she was here? Small enough to get in, smart enough to know or find out what was wrong and how to fix it? Of course, she knew a Tsahìk would figure it out but… Anufi wasn’t here and wouldn’t be in this area for another three days. Still… the Na’vi would be furious with her for taking samples of such a plant; to cut or remove anything at a site of Eywa would be a blasphemous act

Her eyes followed the bobbing woodsprites that floated peacefully around; unconcerned about her presence as she stepped into the chamber. She was here for a reason. Plus, another project would be a welcome distraction; she could fix this problem better than she could with the smog.

Carefully, Alma set her flashlight away and stepped along the uneven root floor to the dais of roots and set her sampling kit down and opened it up but… she couldn’t help but hesitate as she did so. The glimmer of metal shining in the dark

Was this the right thing to do? These roots were important and while it was a lot, the tree was unhealthy. Was the damage worth the knowledge? Should she come back with Anufi? Get a team to crack that entrance open?

A soft tickle at the back of her hand pulled her mind from her concerns to a woodsprite just... sitting there; its little jelly-fish body ticking at her flesh and she felt her heart pick up a little but it just sat there then promptly lifted and floated onto her sampling kit, even onto the metal blade for a moment.

“<Permission?>,” Alma asked quietly under her breath, not sure for a moment if that was… an indicator but she knew the woodsprites didn’t do anything without reason. Was talking to a tree going to provide a solid answer? Probably not but it felt like the right thing to do.

Even if the scientist part of her thought of talking to a tree was…absurd. But she had Kìoetey walk through her memories; connected through to the Circle and ancestors. Through Eywa.

Talking to a tree was probably the few things she could do to get the message across; she was sure Eywa was feeling her intent anyway.

“<Assuming…permission. I’ll take root, bark, soil and plant samples. See what you need.>” She also needed to set up a probe monitor as well; to see how its activity was going under the surface of the roots as well. She could run a pH scan on the samples when she got back as well as the other tests. No need to do too much here anyway.

Alma was careful with her sample collections, taking what she said but she also took some of the pond water (a few fish were living in it and were swimming about) for more tests and some of the lichen in the crevasses for Alexander, she also took a few photos to look back on for later before she bid the tree farewell to start getting her investigation underway.

Dr Reeves hadn’t returned by the time she had gotten back so she gladly disposed of her half-ass note and got to the lab happily to sort out her samples and found a good amount of test tubes to help and she felt… inspired. Content to turn her attention to something else important. Once she had it on its way on the mend… surely others would see her in a more positive light, right?

It had been hours before Dr Reeves actually returned back from the Hideout and only saw her briefly when the woman was checking to see if she was still alive (or making sure she was about) and hadn’t seen her since she disappeared into her module.

As Alma waited for the results of her morning escapade into the cave, she opened up her inbox to see if there had been any updates from the smog since her last message. Hopefully, it was an update from the mushroom samples she had Dr Reeves drop off for him.

One message was blinking away from Alexander.

Good.

Alma opened it up eagerly, leaning forward to read.

Cortez,

The samples you’ve sent look promising for cleansing. A few Kame’tire have offered to create mushroom farms around the affected sites to at least start the process and to stop any potential spread. Cleaning is good but the source will need to go otherwise it’s still futile.

I have found a few chemicals that can help take the corrosive edge out of the air so that is only a mild neutraliser but not enough for the sites to really make a difference quickly. It’ll take a lot to create and out in the open, it’ll be scattered too thin. I’m open for more options.

Dr Tremayne

Alma sat back, chewing her lip. It felt like he was a little slow, or maybe he hadn’t gotten a team together to brainstorm some ideas to make this work. Probably the latter; it felt off for this sort of work. Not ideal and certainly explained why he was…thinking more limited on options. He must be busy there as well. No surprise; she had volunteered him as Resistance Leader and people were starting to see it if he and So’lek had accepted the position once it became public knowledge.

Nonetheless, Alma decided to reply back swiftly.

Dr Tremayne,

If we can’t neutralise the source on site then we should still remove the barrels, seal them and put them in Tap Con-1; localise them as areas are still sealable. Big enough and no longer exposed to the environment. Susceptible to your chemical treatments. Can the chemicals be made or stolen from the RDA? Distilled from local flora? Extensive mushroom farms (think rows of garden planters) throughout Tap-Con 1 would be another viable solution for long-term absorption.

Changeover and disposal of used and contaminated mushrooms could be something to continue for a few years at the facility still but it would be a faster route to cleanse the exposed area.

Let’s also not forget another most obvious option but it will take time to construct with our limited resources; baghouse filter. Mining and other resource-gathering RDA sites would have tools to construct for personnel safety in the event of an uncontrolled gas leak…

Alma continued on in a rather long tangent in her reply, making a note for him to check in with other scientists than just her about this. She reread it to make sure she hadn’t missed anything before she sent it off with a sigh and sat back. They needed all the help they could get. Not people getting snobby about working with her on it. They needed some professionalism here at the very least for them to function as a group.

The monitor gave a small ding, pulling her attention to it before she scratched at the skin at the edge of her mask then leaned back towards it to see what news the samples had brought back. The soil samples were first which was of no surprise but the readings didn’t show anything…unexpected.

Low minerals and nutrients. It needed Nitrogen, potassium, phosphorus and copper for starters. All are easily assessable with a compost solution. Bone meal and slurred meat for a quick liquid diet would be easily absorbed by the roots. There wasn’t a lot of insect activity which probably didn’t help but… the sites of Eywa had woodsprites instead. Some nutrients that were in the reports did show some worm-like species living in the soil that were keeping life going. Enough for now but… with the tree’s state, it wouldn’t last forever.

But there was good oxygen flow from the plant life still. The fish were still alive and were swimming about happily. Maybe there was a waterway in and out which kept the pond water from stagnating. She’d probably need to explore the area better and see properly what it already has available. A one-time solution wouldn’t keep it going; it would need multiple treatments or ways for it to gain minerals independently. Its placement in a cave was probably the main cause; away from sunlight, animals passing through or even Na’vi’s connections to it.

Alma checked through the other reports, taking note of the fungal growth that looked to have been growing on the tree bark and added that to her collection to go over.

It was another three days of working between the tree problem and the smog problem that Alma found very little time to pay attention to anything else. Dr Reeves was the one who kept reminding her about her tea and pulling her to bed.

Alma had already come up with a basic compost solution from the soil close to the lab. She had some bones from old samples which she ground up and mixed in with some water and let the soil absorb it with some water. Na’vi rood rations that had long-expired but she had been too lazy to dispose of had also made its way into the soil. All organic, some meat and more nutrients. She had taken it down to the cave when Dr Reeves was busy the day before; telling her she was sample collecting again.

She hadn’t checked in on it just yet and it was probably too soon to tell of any difference but her time had to be at camp for Nalin and Anufi’s arrival. So she waited in the lab with her smog reports to read through.

Her eyes took in the new data reports from Alex in relief to see construction plans from a new RDA haul. He had taken well to the suggestion of a baghouse. The main air filter would be repurposed and the Aranahe had dedicated some weavers into making the fabric for the filter tubing with their redesign specifications. Apparently, Kat’nat had agreed to show good faith towards the Kame’tire by lending his weavers to clear the lethal pollution.

It warmed her heart a little to see Kat’nat of all people allowing this and offering aid. The Kame’tire needed allies and the Resistance wasn’t enough. The reconnection between the clans was what they all needed. To be unified against the RDA.

This was a good start.

At least now, with a few years with the fabric filters and mushroom farms, the air would clear up. She’d need to check on his plans about the barrels but now…there was hope the air would clear and then Sarentu and Kame’tire would visit the moot site for their rituals for the deceased clan and they’d be able to properly move on together.

The sound of a Samson pulled her attention away from her monitor, her head craning around in relief to see the distant ship heading her way. She padded out from the lab and waved as it touched down but to Alma’s surprise, Anufi looked to be hurried unclipping herself from the back with a displeased expression.

Anqa waved back but didn’t otherwise get out when Nalin did. A new bag on her shoulder and her steps seemed lighter as she led the way.

“Cortez, nice to see some colour in your cheeks.” Nalin noted, “Been out in the sun?”

“Collecting samples mostly.” Alma said, “It’s been…a weird experience.” She hadn’t really paid too much attention to the mirror to notice if she retained any colour. Always avoided it where she could and it hadn’t changed in her week away.

“Either way, that’s good. You’re absorbing a form of vitamin D. Now, I wanna do your weight check first and other little tests first. Anufi needs a moment to settle from her trip. She only took the ship since she was already at the Hideout.”

“Already at the hideout?” Alma frowned but followed the doc to the lab. “Why?”

“That is a story for later.” Nalin brushed off, coming around to pull out the weighing scales that was resting against the wall to set down and set down her bag of tools.

Alma complied with the doc as she was weighed and had her blood pressure taken before Anufi waited for them to be done with those tests before she was able to put her shoes back on and join Anufi at the steps.

Nalin took to the back of her neck for the monitors Alma was surprised as the Tsahìk took her arm and tilted the splint carefully.

“<Your arm, is it healing?>”

“

“<Yet I see more bruises?>” Anufi tilted her arm, showing off the new bruises she had gained in her cave exploring visits. The Tsahìk was swift to pull the Velcro straps as Alma hissed a little at the action.

The main bruise was still there; the distinct shape of Kìoetey’s hand was still marking her flesh in a way that Alma didn’t want to see. Still horribly purple. But there was only a small bruise beside it along her wrist that Anufi was looking at pointedly. One that didn’t come from a hand.

“” Alma reasoned. “<I’m not hurting myself if that’s what you’re worried about.>”

Anufi’s lips pursed and while she wasn’t pleased, she had no other reason to but buy it. “<The bruise should not be this dark. It should be fainter and show signs of fading.>”

“Alma, did you bruise your arm? Is that what Anufi’s all tense about?” Nalin realised when she caught sight. Her hand came to her wrist carefully.

“I banged it, nothing more,” Alma said, pulling the splint back down her arm and her arm free of their touch. “You’re both here to look at my brain, not my arm so please do.”

Nalin clicked her tongue but thankfully plugged her tablet into her monitor’s port which this time was on a longer cable but Alma wasn’t able to see the screen as Nalin moved behind her and Anufi moved to look at the results.

The silence was long, and the soft… hum from Nalin made her nervous as she waited.

“All good?” she asked after a moment.

Nalin moved around, her face…careful. “Alma, have you been drinking Anufi’s tea?”

“Yes. Dr Reeves has been on my ass when I was close to forgetting.” The fact she hated drinking it was probably Reeve’s motivation to keep reminding her to have it. “Three times a day, half a cup of the first. Full cup second after a nap.” She gave Anufi the translation as well.

Nalin’s eyes returned to the screen before her shoulders sagged. “Alma…. The aneurysm has grown. Only by a few millimetres but… it’s not shrunk like we had hoped.”

Alma felt her inside turn cold and her heart thump faster in her chest. “What?” Her mouth ran dry. “<it’s grown? I thought your medication was to help?!>” She turned her attention to the Tsahìk. “<Why did it grow?>”

Nalin reached forward. “Look, we need to run more tests. Blood tests for starters. You’ve still got tea left?”

Alma nodded. “One cup left of each.” She said tightly.

“I’ll get that put through our systems as a precaution. It should all be safe for human consumption, Anufi wouldn’t have made something not fit for you. Believe me, I checked. But just because it’s grown, it doesn’t mean it’s untreatable.”

“You can’t operate and the herbal remedies didn’t work.” Alma scoffed, “What other options do I have?”

Nalin stared at her for a moment. “You’ve put on weight and you’re in better shape which gives you a fighting chance here. Better than last week.”

“But it’s not a guarantee I will survive?” Alma asked, anxiously bobbing her knee. “” She had too much work to do.

“<There is no certainty of anything, Almacortez. Do not jump to the assumption until we have learned of why your body has reacted to my tea in the way that it has.>” Anufi said, “<Your energy flow is good. I feel more life in your body. That is good. One of the teas has certainly helped circulate your stagnated energy back into a sequence.>”

“We should get to the hide-out. I can…run a chemical analysis there and blood tests. A proper physical.” Nalin said, “I can update your headset to something more compact since we got new medical kits.”

“Anything to—“

“Nothing to treat the brain like this.” Nalin shot down quickly. “Sorry.”

Alma’s shoulders sunk down. “Fine.”

“Kìoetey was planning on coming down but I doubt she’ll be able to right now since there’s been a huge development at the Hideout so be prepared to hear a lot and not get a lot of answers. Pack your clothes.”

“<What’s she saying?>”

“<Dr Laine wants to return to the Hideout for more extensive tests than what she can do here. She warned me a lot of going on.>”

Anufi nodded rising to her feet but she looked…relieved to hear that. “”

Nalin was both glad and worried about returning back to the Hideout with Cortez. The woman had been silent the entire way and refused to look at her even as they walked in. The hideout was bustling with people and new technology was in the works to help with the toxic fog outside. But news from Kìoetey had pulled most of the clan to the hideout and they were no doubt waiting on Anufi’s return to the hide-out now to continue the debrief.

Getting Cortez to the medbay was relatively easy and getting her to give a new blood sample was without complaint. The woman looked to be in her own bubble which…was a relief in a way that meant she wasn’t paying attention to the mutters around.

Small blessings.

She left Cortez in the medical bay and went to the lab to start her blood tests. She had to figure this out for both Alma and Anufi’s sake. Despite their language barrier, Nalin had heard and seen enough of Anufi’s grief and belief that she had caused death with her medical practices that…if the tea was the cause of Cortez’s new condition… then it would reflect poorly. That her healing would turn to harm. She didn’t want that for the Tsahìk when she was this close to returning as a confident Tsahìk.

And Cortez, the woman who clearly didn’t want to die to this before she had regained a footing with everyone, more so with the Sarentu. She couldn’t imagine how it felt with a ticking clock that was counting down. Limiting her time with people. Cortez didn’t deserve to die from this.

She worked a while, distantly hearing the other clan leader’s voice echo as they spoke to one another and when Anufi returned.

But… Nalin’s gut sank as the results finally came back in and each…data didn’t show the expected results.

“Is that the sick human’s results?”

So’lek’s voice almost made her jump but… the weight in her gut was too heavy to care for being surprised.

“Yes,” Nalin whispered shakily, clenching her first and she took a stabilising breath.

“From your tone, I sense it’s not good?” So’lek’s head tilted. “They are to die?”

Nalin swallowed the lump in her throat. “A-Anufi helped by providing a medicinal tea for them to drink multiple times daily for the past week. Instead of…thickening the blood vessels to prevent the aneurysm from bursting, however, the human biology twisted the effects. The blood vessel thickened but… the membrane around the aneurysm thinned out. It grew in response and… there’s the fact their blood thinned. Not… a lot but enough. It shouldn’t have happened.” She turned her attention to the warrior who was frowning at her. “Please…don’t tell Anufi. It… she was trying to help. She can’t know it helped cause more harm.” Nalin begged.

So’lek’s face softened a little, his eyes turning out from the lab to the direction of the leader walls away from them. “You want a kind lie?” His tone was… surprisingly understanding.

“Yes. I’ll…look into this more. It could be the human has a gene unique to their family that caused the reaction or simply the remedy can’t work with a formed aneurysm. I’m still trying to understand. The chances are it would have expanded without her treatments on its own. It just… sped up the process. If… Anufi asks if it’s the result of non-effect. It simply didn’t work.” Nalin said.

So’lek’s tail swished for a moment, weighing up the cost of the lie for a moment. “Would the human blame Anufi? Resent her?”

“No. She’ll understand. I haven’t told them the possible cause either. I could lie to them as well, let them live with ignorance for whatever amount of time they had left.” Nalin mused carefully, very aware this was a very…tense thing to lie about. For a good cause as well but… as a doctor, was it something she had to say? Was it good to lie?

“I do not like lies. Human lies are often for deceitful reasons as we’re all familiar with,” So’lek was no doubt thinking about Cortez there, “but… to protect is not one often heard. Anufi would… not take the news well if she heard. The Kame’tire need their Tsahìk now. They cannot afford to lose her to a small mistake. Human biology is not Na’vi; even if she understands that… I fear her response will cause her to withdraw again.”

Nalin let out a breath. “I’ll inform the human it was also… non-effective treatments. That way…they don’t risk telling Anufi if they find resentment or discontent. I can… I can live with that lie.” She could feel the…sheds of guilt but it was necessary.

“Change the results if the human wants your proof. I need to go and assist with the debrief.”

Kìoetey waited patiently as the clan leaders waited. Nesim and Minang were talking to Kat’nat. Etuwa was talking with Anufi who had only just joined from a brief outing but it gladdened her heart to see all of them here.

Priya returned and So’lek shadowed after her, his gaze briefly to Anufi but he seemed too focused.

“I got it!” Priya said, plugging in her datapad to the holotable. “I’ve double-checked everything and.. I think it’s as good as we’ll get.”

The clan leaders turned their attention around as the holo changed to the mobile drill platform. The Zeswa sister’s noses turned up at it in disgust. Kìoetey couldn’t help but notice a small, familiar person at the doorway, listening but she couldn’t keep her attention on her long before So’lek began the debrief but her presence made her heart flutter uncomfortably.

“<This is the Mobile Drill platform, the sky people put it on the Zeswa’s land by the arches.>” So’lek said, mostly to the Aranahe and Kame’tire clans “<The Resistance was able to keep track of RDA ships and their movements. Priya noticed unusual activity, dangerous activity which pushed Kìoetey and the Zeswa to intervene. This metal beast was designed to impact the ground and to break into it for oil underneath. The force alone, if it had been turned on, would have been enough to shatter the arches and if the Zeswa hadn’t been evacuated, would have been killed.>”

Kat’nat’s eyes narrowed at the machine. “<It is no more?>”

“<It was successfully destroyed before its construction was completed, but that’s only one part of the problem. It was operational at a second location where we stole more data from and Kìoetey was able to retrieve data from the floating devices in the Kinglor forest. What we found… is concerning. For all the clans. Mercer’s endgame, so to speak.>”

Priya took the nod from So’lek to change the picture to a new RDA site. A massive structure.

“<The device on Zeswa’s land is a child’s toy to what Mercer has plans here. At this base.>”

Nesim hissed. “<A toy? That was a toy?>”

“<That platform would have torn down the great arches. This building has the potential to cause a chain reaction of shattering the plates along the western frontier. Inside,” So’lek ignored the enraged hissed as the holo displayed a simulation of the effects before the building returned, “<this had a structure similar to the ones you destroyed but it has an explosive. The sky people have been scanning the Kinglor forest for months. The terrain and even under the surface of rock for minerals, oil and gas. Their site is over a massive oil deposit and they can only reach it through with their explosives. They’ve just breached the cave systems but They’re not willing to cut through slowly or for small explosions which is through denser material.>”

“<Then we should charge in and take down every sing sky person on the base to ensure it doesn’t happen.>” Nesim said, “<Why are we still waiting for such a threat to occur when we can go now and sort it?>”

“<If you go unprepared, you’ll be shot down quicker than you can turn for cover.>” So’lek said bluntly. “<theses are called turrets.” The holo zoomed in towards the turrets that were stationed around the building, “<these turrets are designed to kill both air and ground troops that aren’t RDA. They’ll slaughter you all before you even get close so no Ikran or Direhorse can get in range. The turrets are invulnerable to our weapons>”

“<Then how are we to get in? We need to take this building down!>” Nesim hissed.

“<Most likely would be from the inside. Someone needs to find a way in without raising alarms and disabling these turrets to allow Na’vi on either mount to safety to engage the RDA.>” Kìoetey said, “<I’ve taken down enough RDA sites to figure something out.>”

“<What about cave systems?>” Cortez’s voice echoed, “<The resistance has the raw survey data, that has to have something? Caves connect underground. If Mercer’s base had breached the caves, then there’s your way through.>”

Kìoetey’s eyes lingered on the women but So’lek turned to Priya and asked for that data. Priya frowned but moved ahead and brought up the data onto the table and began to cross-reference the data with the Kinglor forests. In fact, it only took a minute before the map of the building returned but expanded to show a cave system that…went right under the floor.

“<That’s your way in,>,” Cortez said, coming in closer to the group but didn’t breach the circle. “<once they know you’re inside, the chances are Mercer will try and…speed up the process. If he can’t win, he’ll take you all out with him.>”

Kìoetey wrinkled her nose but… that didn’t sound unexpected. Once they made themselves known, they certainly were on a timer.

“<Right now, they’re not ready and the failure we have imparted on their test site may have set them back which gives us the time to get prepared.” So’lek said, turning his attention to the leaders, “We need protection, weapons and explosives. Sky people do not fight with honour. The resistance will constantly monitor them and let us know of their plans but, I wish to gift you all with a throat-com or radio. This device will allow great distance of communication between clans as we prepare.”

“<They are made of metal?>” Anufi asked weirdly.

“<Yes, but you do not have to keep it. Once the battle is done, you no longer need it. There are rituals to cleanse yourself for handling such metal.>” So’lek said.

Nesim didn’t look thrilled but her eye returned to the hologram for a moment in debate. “”

Alex, who had been a bystander came forward with a selection and those willing to accept, took some. Kat’nat didn’t take anything, but Etuwa took a throat com and radio and clipped it onto her front despite the clear disapproval of her father.

“” She said as she slipped the throat-come’s earpiece in.

“<Unless we hear anything, two days preparation and on the third morning, we strike.>” So’lek swapped out his old earcom for the newer one. “<;Early. Portions of sky people do not have fast reflexes when they’re freshly awoken or disturbed from sleep.>”

Kìoetey had to smirk a little at that. A very true statement. She had seen many grumpy and sleep-deprived humans without their morning stimulants like coffee. It was a good advantage too, the night crew sleepy from a long day and the next lot still barely functional.

With that, it was more or less the dismissal and everyone was sooner to take their leave Anufi though seemed to head away towards the medical bay than the door but Kìoetey’s eyes returned to the spot Cortez had been…only to find it empty.

“Cortez?” Her eyes flickered about, just catching sight of her disappearing through the airlock out with a few of the others. Damn. She moved after them, sidestepping a few humans with a soft apology before she reached the door as it began a new cycle. She expected it to be empty as she went to step in but… instead, she almost walked into a smirking human (what was his name, Jason? or Ryan?) who nodded at her brightly as he passed. Clearly satisfied about something,

Kìoetey stepped in before the doors shut and sighed at the changeover and the doors opened to the late-morning sun steaming through the clouds. Its warmth was pleasant as she walked, following the pathway which would lead towards the only expected place to find Cortez.

Cortez was… there. Standing a few feet from her avatar’s grave, shoulders slumped and her back to her but she had a sense Cortez knew she was there; she wasn’t trying to be sneaky. Kìoetey hadn’t visited the spot since after she had killed those avatars. The… three little graves added made her heart clench. Tiny little graves that had been her fault. A reminder of her actions.

Kìoetey was slow in her approach but the moment she was within two metres, Cortez seemed to make a step away and pulled her arms into herself. The splint was hidden under her other arm but it made her gaze linger nonetheless as Cortez’s demeanour turned…colder. The walls going straight up. A distance between them.

“I won’t hurt you again,” Kìoetey said quietly. “I’m sorry that I hurt you the first time.”

There was a long pause.

“If…So’lek hadn’t told you to let go, would you have broken my arm?” the question was soft, but she questioned it as if either one of them didn’t know the answer. It still stung a little, nonetheless. After a moment of non-answer, Corte let out a snort. “I don’t care that much that you hurt me. I don’t feel safe around you but… this is Pandora. There are worse things out there to be afraid of.”

Kìoetey flinched at how casually she spoke. How… ill she spoke of harm so blatantly done. It waved a red flag that she didn’t like. “A-are you okay, Cortez?”

Cortez gave no indication, but her head turned down towards the graves as if deep in thought. “I’ve had better days. I’ll be fine. Just…need rest.”

Kìoetey moved, though not close to Cortez and instead she stepped closer to the grave itself. The little ones. “I’m sorry I killed your avatars. My anger consumed me and…I reacted.” The words were…hard to say but she felt relief in actually apologising. “I should have reacted differently and I cannot undo the death I caused. The harm I caused. I am sorry.”

Cortez let out a shaky breath. “I do… forgive you for that.”

Kìoetey blinked a little in surprise. “You do?” Honestly, she thought the woman would nod, acknowledge it and then just… find a reason for one of them to leave to process. This was… unexpected. Forgiveness straight off from a human? Even Cortez. She knew the woman valued the avatars over her own life which was a concern in itself.

Cortez nodded, yet still not turning to look at her in any way. “What’s the point of holding a grudge? Grudges won’t bring them back or… allow anyone to move on. I’d rather not be a hypocrite either. How can I expect forgiveness if I’m not willing to do the same.”

Perhaps it was not meant to sound like an insinuation (in her gut, she knew it wasn’t) but it certainly made her feel…off on what she actually meant. Kìoetey’s eye twitched a little at her words. Cortez spoke as if what she had done was on equal terms of pain and harm. As if they were the same. As if Kìoetey owed her forgiveness for her forgiveness. As if the death of her avatars and hurting her was the same as sixteen years of hell with the RDA, the abduction and… callous slaughter of her people.

It was not the same.

She didn’t have to forgive Cortez for her part in all of that and…she hadn’t. Not yet. That much pain…she simply needed more time. Certainly not yet. She needed to see things through with Mercer first before she could really reach deep inside to determine how she could emotionally deal with Cortez.

Cortez, unaware of her brashness turned away from the avatar’s grave. “I need to go. I’m tired.”

Kìoetey just nodded, though her eyes lingered on the grave for longer as the woman left, only really noticing a small yellow stream that looked to be soaking into the settling soil. She could pick up the faint smell of urine but—

“<Sarentu, come.>” Her attention turned to So’lek as he joined her, “There is much to do and to prepare for. I’ve made you a new bowstring. It should work more efficiently.”

Distracted, Kìoetey nodded. Yes. Much to do indeed.

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leviathanverse · 5 months

Text

Chapter 13: Karma

Trying to shake away the very thought of going back inside the enclosure didn't help. It was useless to try to get it out of your mind.

" ... You have got to be kidding me..."

You stared at the glass window in front of you, seeing the much older and more frail Allosauruses.

And the bigger one looked incredibly pissed. It wants to tear you into shreds pissed. Like it was going to rip you apart pissed.

" Are you going to AT LEAST get them out of the enclosure?"

" We have to. The bigger one isn't the friendliest and killed around 17 workers in the past."

" I'm sorry- 17 WORKERS?!"

" Yeah. Their holding cells are right there in the back corner."

" I have a bad feeling."

" Probably your nerves."

Well.... he wasn't ENTIRELY wrong. Your nerves have acted up after the chase scene and after seeing the man again.

Thankfully, the man didn't notice you and had focused on the password. You were definitely going to report him.

He deserved it. He had attempted to murder you. Not you. You so badly hoped that Karma would deal with him.

" Alright! We'll leave you alone after they have been taken into their holding cells."

You jumped, wanted to say something but held back. What if you accidentally raised your voice?

It would look like you were a weak person with no selflessness... You CERTAINLY didn't want that.

You watched the two perfect, matching, soon-to-be couple walk out of the viewing gallery in your peripheral vision.

" Oh boy... Let's get this over with."

You sighed before going to the entrance of the enclosure after the dinosaurs were forced to go into their holding cells.

There was a scanner. One for fingerprints to ensure no one got inside when they weren't workers.

It made sense, in a way. The park just wanted to ensure everyone's, that was not a worker, safety.

It made a smile form on your face. Lifting your finger on the scanner. It scanned your hand.

The screen flickered green before the doors opened. Almost like a spaceship's doors opening from old cartoons.

The enclosure felt like a foreign forest despite the lack of rain once you stepped inside.

That didn't cut the atmosphere that intoxicated you.

The bad feeling was still present in the air. Why were your nerves acting up? Was it actually you or your gut feeling?

At this point, you didn't know. All you kn-

Someone pinned you to the ground, and you instinctively squirmed. No matter how much you tried to get away, you failed.

" Since that darn overgrown lizard didn't do what I had hoped for, I'll just do it myself."

Your eyes widened while you heard one of the Allosauruses roar. Probably the large one that was pissed 24/7.

A hand wrapped around your throat, tightening its hold on you. Your windpipe started to close up.

You couldn't breathe. This man was choking you! At least there were cameras around. Hopefully security saw this.

The man screamed when something made a loud clanking sound.

Spots began to appear in your vision. Not for long, however as you felt the pressure ease up around your neck.

Why was he screaming? Why was there a red liquid that sprayed around you like a shower? Everything was confusing.

Curious, you turned on your back to see the reason for the man's sudden cut off scream. Fear quickly filtered through your body.

What was once a living and murderous man was now a limp body in the jaws of the large Allosaurus.

Blood dripped onto the ground from the sharp teeth that dug into his dead form. The fear and terror was raw and certainly not fake.

Karma got the man when the Allosaurus dropped the corpse and tore a limb off. It was an arm, the muscles and bone in plain sight.

Just like a modern day crocodile, the Allosaurus tossed the limb around. It was trying to orientate it into a better position.

To eat it whole.

Just like you predicted, the carnivorous dinosaur swallowed the limb whole. It snapped its jaws shut before grabbing the other arm.

You just sat there, staying perfectly still as you watched the murderer being ripped into parts.

Parts easy enough to be swallowed whole.

One word came into your mind, and left your lips without you realizimg it.

" Karma..."

You whispered, still watching the dinosaur eat. It wasn't long before the other dinosaur escaped the holding cell.

Thank goodness the doors had slid closed after the now dead man had entered. Everything was good now.

However, it didn't mean anything good for you. You saw this when you realized that the two dinosaurs stared at you.

One had blood covering its snout. Bloodred eyes staring at you. Through your act and directly into your soul.

You stared at the one that had devoured the man. But the second dinosaur stared at you in return.

As if returning the favor of your stare at its friend. At least Karma had been served for you.

Previous <-•-> Next

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anonymousewrites · 1 year

Text

Logos and Pathos (Book 2) Chapter Four

Spock x Empath! Reader

Chapter Four: Ancient Aliens

Summary: A psychic alien is directing the Enterprise. He seems well-mannered, but the Starfleet officers can't help but be on edge.

Captain’s Log: The Enterprise is in orbit above a planet whose surface, our sensors tell us, is devoid of all life. A world destroyed and dead for at least a half million years. Yet from it comes a voice, the energy of pure thought, telling us something, this “Sargon,” has survived here for those thousands of centuries. Since exploration and contact with alien intelligence is our primary mission, I’ve decided to risk the potential dangers and resume contact.

“How long before Starfleet receives my report on the situation?” asked Kirk.

“Over three weeks at this distance, sir,” said Uhura.

“Captain,” said Spock as he looked at his scanners. “Sensors registering some form of energy deep inside the planet.”

“Your probes have touched me, Mr. Spock,” said Sargon’s voice.

(Y/N) shivered as the telepathy entered their mind. They were psychic and attuned to the presence of others, so they keenly felt the words filtering into their brain.

“Reading energy only, Captain,” reported Spock. “No lifeforms.”

“I have locked your transporter device on my coordinates,” said Sargon. “Please, come to us. Rescue us from oblivion.”

“Come from deep under the planet’s surface, Captain,” said Spock. “Under at least one hundred miles of solid rock.”

(Y/N) furrowed their brow. “We can’t beam down that far. We’d been torn into pieces as the transporter strains, like an elastic band stretched too far.”

“What an image,” murmured Kirk.

“I’ll make it possible for your transporter to beam you that deep beneath the surface,” said Sargon. “Have no fear.”

Kirk glanced at (Y/N). “Can we trust him?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I can’t read his emotions without a life form or vessel for his, for lack of a better word, soul.”

“Reading a chamber now,” reported Spock as his scanners followed the energy to its source. “Oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, suitable for human life support.”

Kirk nodded. “Lieutenant Uhura, have Dr. McCoy report to the Transporter Room in ten minutes with standard landing party equipment.”

“Yes, sir,” said Uhura.

“(L/N), you’re with me. We’re meeting a new species. Your specialties will be useful,” said Kirk.

“Right, sir,” said (Y/N). They were the Negotiations and Communications specialist.

“Captain,” said Spock suddenly. “I do wish to inspect whatever this is that lived that long ago.” And Spock didn’t want to risk (Y/N) going in danger without him there with them.

“And I would like to have my Science Officer with me on something as unusual as this, but it is full of unknowns, and we can’t risk both of us being off the ship,” said Kirk.

As he spoke, the Enterprise’s lights powered off. Sulu fiddled with the controls but shook his head when Kirk looked at him expectantly.

“All power gone, sir,” he said.

(Y/N) blinked. “It seems our new friend isn’t satisfied with that decision, Captain.” It worries me that Sargon specifically wants the Captain and Spock, but I’ll be there, too. I’ll protect him, and Kirk, as much as possible.

“No…I guess they’re not,” said Kirk. “I guess you’ll be joining us, Mr. Spock.” At his words, the lights turned back on.

Spock nodded. He was satisfied to be joining for scientific research and also, of course, because it meant he’d be by (Y/N)’s side.

“Jim, why no briefing on this?” asked Bones as Kirk, Spock, and (Y/N) walked into the Transporter Room. “I’d at least like to know what we’re getting into.”

“Easy, easy, Bones,” said Kirk. “As long as you know that there’s something down there, you know as much as we do. The rest is only guesses.”

“I don’t like it, sir,” said Scotty. “The transporter coordinates preset by a…an alien of some sort. You could materialize inside solid rock.”

Bones blinked incredulously. “Inside solid rock?”

“Unlikely,” assured Spock. “These coordinates correspond with the location of the subterranean chamber.”

“Plus, they probably have the power to destroy from where they are in the planet,” said (Y/N), shrugging. “So it doesn’t really make a difference.”

“Yes, but they seem to want us alive,” said a feminine voice. They turned and found a woman in a red Starfleet uniform smiling at them.

Kirk frowned. “Who are you?”

“Dr. Ann Mulhall, Astrobiology,” said Mulhall. Kirk was still confused, so she continued. “Well, I was ordered to report here for landing party duty.”

“By whom?” asked Kirk.

Mulhall frowned. “Strange, I’m not sure. Well, I’m not a liar, Captain. I did receive an order to report here for duty.”

(Y/N) nodded. “I’m pretty sure she did, Captain. My guess is that our friend Sargon wants specific people to come down.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Like the lights when the Captain suggested I remain on board.”

(Y/N) snapped their fingers. “Exactly!”

“Well, let’s get back to this ‘solid rock’ business,” said Bones. “Now, just how much rock are we going to go through?”

“Approximately 112.37 miles, Doctor,” said Spock.

“Miles?” questioned Bones. He chuckled. “Are you joking?”

Kirk shook his head and smiled at Bones’s incredulous look. “No, we’re not. Let’s go.”

Kirk, Bones, (Y/N), Spock, Mulhall, and two other security officers stepped onto the transporter.

“Please stand ready. I will operate your controls,” said Sargon’s voice, causing everyone to jump.

Bones hesitated, and Kirk raised an eyebrow. “Doctor, if you prefer to stay behind…”

“No, no, if I’d be useful,” said Bones, rather unhappily. “As long as you’re going down, I might as well take a medical look at whatever this is.” He stepped up beside everyone else.

Before Scotty could operate the transporter’s controls, the machine activated. However, only Bones, Kirk, (Y/N), Spock, and Mulhall were brought down to the planet below. The security officers were left far behind.

“Captain, the security guards,” said Spock. His eyes immediately searched for (Y/N) to make sure they were still there with him. His tension relaxed slightly seeing them looking around with him.

Kirk’s communicator beeped, and he quickly answered. “Kirk here.”

“Can you read me, Captain?” asked Scotty.

“Yes, Scotty, and I shouldn’t be able to this deep inside the planet,” said Kirk. “But perhaps that’s been arranged for us, too.”

“Are the security officers up there?” asked (Y/N), concerned.

“They’re fine,” said Scotty. “They just didn’t dematerialize. I don’t like it.”

“Well, no problem yet,” said Kirk. “Maintain alert. Kirk out.”

“Atmosphere report, Captain,” said Mulhall. “A fraction richer in oxygen than usual for us, but otherwise normal.”

“This vault was constructed about a half million years ago,” reported Spock. “About the same time as the planet’s surface was destroyed, if our sensor readings are accurate.”

“Composition of walls?” asked Kirk.

“They’re an alloy or substances completely unknown to me,” said Spock. “Much stronger and harder than anything I’ve measured before.”

“(L/N), do you have anything?” asked Kirk.

(Y/N) paused and focused on the air around them, tuning the others’ emotions out as much as possible. “There’s…something. Beyond this vault, I can feel a mixture of emotions. More than one source, for sure. Strong psychically, as well, since I can feel them so strongly.”

As if answering (Y/N)’s identification of their presence, the door of the vault slid open, revealing a room with rocky walls and glowing gold orb.

“Welcome,” said Sargon’s voice, and the light of the orb brightened with his voice. This was where it emanated from. “I am Sargon.”

The group carefully walked closer. Spock ensure he stood slightly in front of (Y/N) in case something happened, and (Y/N) focused on the strong emotions for any signs of anger that could lead to an attack. So far, though, Sargon seemed calm and polite.

Spock held up his tricorder. “Sargon, would it harm you if I…?”

“You may use your tricorder, Mr. Spock. Your readings will show energy, but no substance,” said Sargon. “And (Y/N), you may read our emotions. Though we are able to block out other psychics, I will allow you to see my own so you may feel more secure. However, I shall keep them subdued so your psychic abilities are not overhwelmed.”

“Thank you,” said (Y/N) politely. They didn’t fear Sargon using “fake” emotions on them. They could tell the difference between someone’s heart and whatever façade they put up. (Plus, you can’t fake emotions. Just control them to the best of your abilities, such as Vulcans did). They looked at Kirk. “Warm emotions. No anger. No sign of meaning us harm.”

Kirk nodded. “Alert me if it changes.”

“Yes, sir,” said (Y/N).

“Pure energy,” confirmed Spock as he looked at his tricorder’s readings. “Matter without form.”

“Impossible,” said Kirk.

“But…you once had a body of some type?” asked Bones.

“A body as much as yours, my children, although our minds were infinitely greater,” said Sargon.

“You refer to us as your ‘children,’ ” observed (Y/N). “Why?”

“Because it is possible you are our descendants,” said Sargon. “Six thousand centuries ago, our vessels were colonizing this galaxy, just as your own starships have now begun to explore that vastness. As you now leave your own seed on distant planets, so we left our seed behind us. Perhaps the human tale of ‘Adam and Eve’ refers to two of our travelers.”

“Our beliefs and studies indicate that life on our planet Earth evolved independently,” said Mulhall.

(Y/N) nodded. “Celian’s evolved similarly to humans, but we developed empathic abilities due to a variety of environmental factors.”

“That would tend, however, to explain certain elements of Vulcan prehistory,” said Spock.

“In any case, I do not know,” said Sargon. “It was so long ago, and the records of our travels were lost in the cataclysm which we loosened upon ourselves.”

“A war?” asked Kirk.

“A struggle for such goals and the unleashing of such power that you could not comprehend,” said Sargon.

“Then perhaps your intelligent wasn’t so great, Sargon,” said Kirk. “We faced a similar crisis in our early nuclear age. We found the wisdom not to destroy ourselves.”

“We survived our primitive issues as well,” said Sargon. “But there comes to all races, an ultimate crisis which you have yet to face.”

(Y/N) and Spock glanced at each other questioningly. Like the humans, their kinds had gone through issues that nearly tore them apart. The Vulcans learned to disregard emotion and act logically for the betterment of their entire society, and the Celians learned to embrace emotions so that they could understand each other and cooperate for solutions. However, both had overcome their respective crises. To hear there was more to come was curious.

“I don’t understand,” said Kirk.

“One day our minds became so powerful we dared think of ourselves as gods,” said Sargon.

Ah, so we just need to keep our egos in check. That’s good to know, thought (Y/N), pleased again.

Kirk shifted uncomfortably. “You said you wanted our help,” he prompted. “What is it you wish?”

Suddenly, he froze, and his face contorted as he felt something strange. Kirk threw his head back, and a whirring sound echoed through the room. (Y/N) jolt forward towards their captain, but Spock rested a hand on their arm to stop them.

“Just a moment, (Y/N),” said Spock. “It may not be safe, and he does not seem to be in pain.”

“Alright,” said (Y/N), trusting Spock’s assessment.

Kirk breathed heavily and spoke. His voice echoed in an unearthly manner. “I…am…Sargon.”

Sure enough, (Y/N) could sense Sargon’s emotions emanating from Kirk’s body. “Where is our Captain?” they demanded.

“He is…unharmed,” said Sargon.

Spock looked at them for an assessment, and (Y/N) nodded and murmured, “No sign he’s lying. But we can’t be sure he doesn’t have anything planned.”

“I…have taken his body to demonstrate,” said Sargon.

Bones whipped out his phaser. “I won’t go along with this. Back to where you were, Sargon, or whatever you are.”

“And if he refuses, Doctor, what do you propose to do with your phaser? That is still Jim’s body,” said Spock. His use of “Jim” instead of “Captain” made his worry clear.

Sargon suddenly gasped. “Lungs filling with air again…To see again. Heart pumping, arteries surging with blood again.” He smiled. “To feel it all. After a half a million years…to be again!” Pure joy radiated from him, so powerful that (Y/N) felt the heat on their skin. Sargon took careful steps around the room. “Your Captain has an excellent body, Dr. McCoy. I compliment you both on the condition in which you maintained it.”

“What are your plans for it?” asked Spock, eyes narrowed in calculation. “Can you exchange places again when you wish?”

“Have no fear,” said Sargon kindly, touching the golden orb.

It pulsed with a slight smoke of confusion. (Y/N) recognized it must be Kirk’s emotions filtering through it. It was faint because he was a human or a psychic, but when they focused, they could feel it.

“Your Captain is quite unharmed. Although his mind generates insufficient energy for him to speak from there as I do,” said Sargon.

“Are you aware of what’s happening to his body?” hissed Bones as he used his tricorder to scan Kirk’s body. “Heart action doubled, temperature 104 degrees.”

“He’ll die if you don’t leave his body soon,” said Mulhall.

“What do you want here?” asked (Y/N).

Sargon turned to them. “In the next room, there are other receptacles. The other two of us that survived. Dr. Ann Mulhall and Mr. Spock—we require your bodies, also. We must have Captain Kirk and you…so that we may live again.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened, and they looked worriedly at Spock. The aliens wanted him? For what? How could they trust the aliens? (Y/N)’s hands curled into fists. They wouldn’t let them hurt Spock.

Taglist:

@a-ofzest

@grippleback-galaxy

@genderfluid-anime-goth

@groovy-lady

@im-making-an-effort

@unending-screaming

#s'chn t'gai spock #ambassador spock #mister spock #star trek spock #spock #spock x reader #mr spock #x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #x nb reader #nb reader #logos and pathos #star trek the original series #star trek fanfic #star trek tos #star trek #star trek x reader #the original series

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