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arcadejohn127-9 · 3 years

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ok so,,, *slides u mc idea* (YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS IF YOU DON'T WANT TO!!! I JUST WANTED TO SHARE THIS!!!)

MC that doesn't have any energy during the day, just moping around all tired. But from like, 12 AM to 6 AM, really energized and would go out and do the most Chaotic Shit TM. You know when you just come up with some crack idea at 2 AM? MC every goddamn night. Probably tried making a bathtub fly.

(if you do want to do this, please do the brothers and the undateables ^^)

XD WHY IS THIS ME???!!!!! I'm always so tired and never leave my bed but it could be 1 am and suddenly I rise from the dead and just do random things around the house

Though these aren't chaotic, mostly just the boys trying to stop you as they're tired and want to sleep but you're messing around too much. I tried to base it off my own activities and things that would seem funny - sorry if you wanted something more chaotic but I couldn't think of anything

Lucifer:

When he learned about your strange late morning/early morning shenanigans

He saw it was a way for you to finally get your school work done

Every room - and I mean EVERY - had a textbook from your different class with notes, he goes to bed late so he put them their before he tucked in for the night

He could hear your distress at the continuous reminder of work you needed to do

You knew this was his work so you went to his room

Climbing on his bed and just walked over his body

"Stop it, I'm trying to learn how to replicate the set ups from home alone."

"You can do that after doing your coursework, I'm being merciful with you, don't push it."

You just threw yourself down beside him

Pretending to suddenly fall asleep and began to loudly fake snore

You remained like that whilst Lucifer tried to ignore you

He took this as a sign of war

He was going to monitor you all day if he has to, he refuses to let your bad grades affect their image

But you got bored of snoring and left

He felt relief; his desire to sleep over weighing his desire to force you to study

When you came back with a toy gun you altered to shoot golf balls he knew thing's weren't going well

"The-more-you-pressure-me-the-more-I-won't-study."

You shot at his lower body between each words

This was definitely war

Mammon:

He was sleeping just fine until he heard his car rev up

He bolted awake and saw that his car was on, a string of curses coming from inside

He knew of your weird habit of becoming energised at ridiculous times but he wasn't expecting you to do this

He could tell it was you by your voice

He stormed up the stairs towards his car

"Oi! What are you doing in my car? Go to bed!"

You finally were able to turn off the car, just leaning on the wheel casually as if you didn't just accidentally turn it on

"I'm just cruising~ nothing to see here!"

He wasn't amused

He got you out of his car and strung you over his shoulder, scolding you for being so irresponsible and slightly bragging about how much trouble you'd be in if it weren't for him

You tried to explain you were just pretending to drive but you saw the keys still inside and got curious

He just threw you on his bed and held you, hiding his blush in his pillow

You let him fall asleep but when you tried to escape it ended up with your shoulders in a head lock and your ass stuck in the air

It seems your productive night has came to an end

Levithan:

It was a fifty - fifty chance that levithan was awake or not

But Lucifer gave him an earful about staying up late as it's effecting grades

So you betted he was asleep and your desire to game and wonder aroulnd his room set itself in motion

What made it awkward, was when you came in you heard a suspicious girly moan come from his headphones

You both just stared at each other, unmoving

"Uh- this isn't- this is just a dream, this is definitely not happening."

You checked out the game he was playing; recognizing it to be a dating sim he's been following the development of

You just nodded, shuffling over to his set up

"Scoot over dream levi, I wanna see the hot babes."

He got even more embarassed; face completely red as you sat on your player 2 chair

You put your hand on his, forcing his finger to click the mouse and watched what was happening on screen, listening to the loud music from his headphones

Luckily, the voice acting was just suspicious - like most animes - and it was a fairly cute game

You did end up swirling around in your chair aroulnd his room

Both of you coming up with strategies to get the best girl to like you

Though, too much moving and spinning made you and the chair fall over

You bonked Into his bathtub, your ribs squishing against the rim after the trip

Levi let you make all the gaming decisions to make up for it

Satan:

He planned to have some late night reading, hoping it'll make him tired enough to actually sleep

He found you sitting on the floor in the library

Torn books and littered paper was surrounding you

Then he noticed the paper stars and cranes pouring out from your lap as you froze mid fold

"That's....a thousand stars and cranes - where did you get all this paper from?"

"......the books belonged to me before you assume anything!"

He slowly nodded

He wasn't a fan of the destruction of books but they were yours so he couldn't say anything

He felt odd just leaving you in the barely lit library

Just folding paper who knows how long

He asked if you were hungry, guessing you've been awake for a long time

You just shoved paper into your mouth and began chewing

He was horrified

You immediately spat it out, cringing

"that was a bad idea.... that was gross."

He's going to get you food

When he came back he felt more energised; walking around will do that for you

So he decided to just stay with you whilst you folded the many pages of your destroyed books

It was around 6 am when you finally yawned; Satan fell asleep already

You looked at the fire place, your tired brain screaming for arson

He woke up as he heard your fits of poorly muffled giggles

You were throwing your stars in the fire as you sat a fair distance from it

When you threw the cranes, accepting some didn't fly far enough and didn't burn, he asked what you were doing

"It's survival of the fittest, only the strongest cranes survive in this paper world."

Asmodeus:

You were already in his room, you've been sleeping in it almost all day

So when you finally got out you looked around, spotting the makeup kit he got in a sponsorship

He lets his brother's or you use it as it's a spare

But if you touch his stuff; you will perish

So you decided to use that one, practising all sorts of looks and tried not to laugh when you made yourself a clown

You decided to stay in the clown makeup and go into his practice room

What was his practice room?

Well, he hates exercising Infront of people as he'll be sweaty and his hair will get ruined

So that's where he goes but the real magic was the pole in the middle of it

You felt a spark of inspiration

Looking up tutorials on your phone on how to pole dance

It did not go great

You were sliding too fast

Falling over and when you tried to spin, you would just get stuck

"I love you but if you keep disturbing my beauty sleep I will throw you out the window."

He was grouchy; his hair was barely smoothed out and arms crossed

You hugged the pole you were slowly sliding down; a long loud screech coming down

You definitely felt like a clown

"Sorry- you look handsome already so is there really any need for beauty sleep?"

He blushed, agreeing he was beautiful before giving you a "I will end you" smile

You got the hint, flattery wasn't going to work

Perhaps your pole dancing adventures can wait

Beezlebub:

He was aware of your strange energy burst at night, you were talking about it with him the other day

He's been wondering if he would ever spot you and tonight he did

He found you in the kitchen

Just chipping away at the frost on the top of the freezer trays with a small knife

He crouched down behind you, picking you up

Beel let you sit on his thigh and began to eat anything he could get his hands on

Meanwhile you were aggressively stabbing the formed ice

"Why are you doing that?"

He grabbed a handful of the ice chunks that fell from your stabbing

"Not sure what I want to do tonight and the build up was bothering me."

He didn't need to know anymore, just nodding and letting you do your own thing whilst he ate

He cleared out the entire fridge in no time

Letting you eat anything you wanted whilst you were hard at work

He noticed one part of the ice wasn't giving it to your stabbings

He just gripped it and easily broke it off

You thanked him and ignored how he was able to eat the big block with breaking it

Whenever something was too stubborn he would just break it off for you

It went on like that until you were satisfied

You closed the empty freezer and turned to your assistant

"Good work, but I'll need your help again, I can't reach the top cupboard and I know it's big enough to let me sit in it."

He got to eat more so he had no issue, helping you get into the cupboard once he was done clearing it out

Belphegor:

You were so energised yet you couldn't think of what to do

You put a spell on you to stop you from feeling pain and began to let yourself roly-poly down the hallways

You penciled rolled abit too fast at one pointand ended up thumping down the stairs

You were thankful the spell worked

It got to the point you just kept rolling around until you couldn't anymore

You padded the broom closet

Immediately doing a double take when you noticed a body In the darkness

You went over and turned on the closets light

"is there a reason you're sleeping in the broom closet?"

Belphie was grumbling, trying to hide his face from the light

He glared up at you for disturbing his sleep

"Is there a reason you're rolling around the house?"

"Touchè."

You ended up dragging belphie around the house

You felt like you committed a crime and it was fun

He was fast asleep and you were bored

You dragged him by the ankle and tried to keep his body from banging into anything along the way

You ended up bumping into Beel, he was looking for his twin, and he noticed you were dragging him

Belphie slightly woke up, waving at his brother before going back to sleep

Beel carried the two of you back to the his bedroom; hugging you both

If it weren't for these warm beefy arms you would be free! Free to terrorise all the shadows in the room

You gave up your night activities when even Belphie wrapped an arm around you

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

Dia was sneaking around the house, hoping not to run into his butler

He didn't want be to be sent back to bed

He was planning to have a light night snack and see how you were going

He knew you were always doing something during the nights, it surprised him when he found out because you were always in bed whenever he saw you

He checked your bedroom and didn't see you in your bed

Suddenly, he noticed a pile of black by his feet

He saw you, scrunched up on your back with the little D's covering your body, all hugging you

"oh! I almost didn't spot you under there, are you alright?"

"I'm great~ you should join me."

The little D's You were able to scratch were purring in their sleep

He found the sight adorable as he crouched down

"I'm teaching them to love me so they can willingly become armour for when I take over the Devildom - we'll be like the rat king!"

He just quietly laughed; the prince helping you pet and scratch the little D's

He agreed you'd make a good ruler

Though he had to force himself to be silent as you started chanting whispers of 'You will be my armor' and 'rat king'

Decided to leave you and your brain washing, going to the kitchen like he intended

Though when he walked past your room again you and the little Ds weren't there

He found you in his room, pouting and dangling off the chandelier

He helped you down, asking what was wrong

You told him the little D's banished you from the cuddle pile because you kept trying to make them move as one being

He patted your head and told you you'll become the overlord some day

Barbatos:

"Why are you making pudding at 3 am?"

He already knew why, just like he knew you were here hence why he visited you

But that didn't stop him from asking

He knew you liked it when he showed his intrigue in things even if he already knew about them

"my hands demand to CREATE- oops sorry - hopefully that didn't wake anyone."

He was always surprised to see you up and about during the nights

He was always the one looking after you in the morningsa; making sure you ate and had a drink

Whilst you just laid in bed, always barely awake and unmotivated

He stayed with you, watching over you as you made your pudding

Making soft spoken discussion as he guided you through any steps you seemed to become hesitant in

You ended up making 10 batches of pudding

Barbatos eating a few whilst he watched you

When you grew bored of pudding making you ate the cups he didn't eat

Saving a few for lord Diavolo in the fridge

He complimented your pudding, telling you that they were very delicious

You felt proud; having a spark to make more food

He told you what would be best during this time of night and helped you

Though it did end up with the both of you covered in flour and barb slipping on a dropped egg

You both thought it was best to clean up and stop for the night

He was very embarassed he made a fool of himself

Solomon:

He didn't expect to find you in his working space

He knew you would be awake but didn't even think of you doing what you're doing right now

"is there a reason you're drinking my potions like their shots? I must say this is rather interesting - how many did you have?"

You wiped your mouth, your hiccup coming out as exploding bubbles

You looked at the small glass viles, and saw ALOT of them empty

More than you realized

"uh- 3?"

he just chuckled, reading the notes you made

The notes was recording what each potion did to you

He was thankful you remembered this was his safe batch

Unknown to him you in fact did NOT remember and was having a Russian roulette game with them

He sat with you, making a cure for your explosive hiccups

You happily drunk it and felt better

He laughed more when he saw your scribbles; drawing what happened to you

Solomon will be making you his potion tester from now one so beware

Simeon:

He was an early riser; awake by 3 am and usually did some writing or watched TV until he got tired again

He had a mug of tea, shuffling through the dorm

He's hung out with you plenty of times whilst you cure your late night boredom

But he was surprised when he saw you in the living room, mini flashlight in your mouth and scrubbing the floors with a sponge mop

"Oh, you don't need to clean - that's very sweet of you but don't you think it's abit early to do this?"

You looked at him, semi blinding him with the flashlight

Immediately took it out of your mouth and apologized

You agreed it was but you wanted to do it as you've been meaning to for the past week

He just nodded, letting you do your own thing whilst he enjoyed his drink

But you suddenly felt awkward; no longer wanting to clean now that someone was in the room

You made your way over to him, climbing on the coffee table and jumping onto the sofa

He was curious on why you weren't doing your thing anymore

"dunno know, just feels awkward when people watch me do stuff."

He suggested leaving you be, saying he'll stay in his room

But now you felt bad because he wanted to rest in the living room

In the end, he helped you clean and you both fell asleep in the bathtub, cuddling up with towels working as padding and a blanket

Luke:

You liked creeping Luke out

It was fun, so far you've convinced them that you're a type of demon that watches bad children whilst they sleep

But really you just wanted to feel like a cryptic, sitting in the corner of his room on a cupboard

It wasn't long for him to wake up from your staring

"I'm going to tell Simeon if you keep staring at me."

You wanted to laugh; he really was a child

Luke wasn't aware that you were a night owl, he just assumed you were always tired and sleeping

He liked to help you around the house and look after you when he could

It almost made you feel had

Almost

He's been extra stubborn about liking the Devildom to the point he's Been insulting his friends and trying to push them away

"Luke, you've been very bad, pushing your friends away just because they're a demon isn't good - embrace your friendships."

You weren't amazing at changing your voice but it seemed to work on him

He complained that it wasn't right for angels and demons to be friends

But you quickly reminded him what this whole exchange program was about

"you have been chosen to help fix the divide between the three realms, just hang out with the people you care about or I'll eat your toes!"

He immediately got scared, scrunching into himself and only peered slightly out of his blanket

He made you promise to leave him alone if he made up with the demons

You agreed, feeling bad for disturbing his sleep but thankful your plan worked

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giantroboticplatypusbutt218 · 2 years

Text

Boiling Point

This is Part 1 of the Magnetic Attraction series.

Rating: General Audiences

Content Warnings: Fantastic Racism, Internalized Homophobia, Canon-Typical Violence.

Summary: The Loonatics get called in to prevent a planet’s energy crisis, and as Heroes of the Universe, they are more than up to the challenge. However, upon arrival, the team notices a certain biotech problem they couldn’t account for. With tensions growing and relationships being brought into question, what was supposed to be a simple repair job may turn out to be less simple than they first thought.

Word Count: 20,907

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (Link to chapter on Ao3)

Chapter 1

Word Count: 1873

Notes: (Continued under the cut)

Some content warnings/explanations. If you don’t care, feel free to skip to the story.

Firstly, this story contains mild anti-racism themes, so some microaggressions will occur as part of a character arc. Since I’m white, and likely still a bit ignorant despite my best efforts, if I don’t deliver the message very well in the end, don’t hold back on letting me know.

Second, while unintentional, some of the action scenes in chapter 4 may come across as a little… sexual assault-y. If I thought it was egregious I would have altered them, but since the average Pepé Le Pew short is at least three times worse, I felt leaving it but adding a warning was fine.

Third, there is a character that is implied to have mild internalized homophobia and it isn’t directly addressed in this fic. That is because I am hoping to turn this into a series and have that addressed later.

Lastly, I have decided not to phonetically spell out each character’s speech mannerisms. Their word usage and sentence structure are still the same, but I wanted to keep the actual text as readable as possible for anyone with reading difficulties.

If you’re fine with all that, I hope you enjoy reading.

“I mean it’s pathetic. All the compliments and cuddles and yet neither of them are smart enough to know that they’re obviously in love.”

Duck plopped down onto a couch in the lounge, with Lexi taking a spot a couple of cushions down.

“I don’t think it’s fair to assume they’re in love just because they’re a little more affectionate than most friends.”

“What kind of friends give each other goo goo eyes?” Duck accused. “Boyfriends, that’s who.”

“What’re you guys talking about?” Ace asked as he and Slam made their way into the lounge as well.

Duck stood up on the couch cushion and turned toward them. “You guys noticed it too, right? How much Rev and Tech have been flirting lately?”

“Eh… 'flirting’ is a strong word. Sure they’ve been tossing each other a few more compliments, but nothing I can’t imagine regular friends saying to each other.”

“‘Regular friends’, sure,” he snarked. “Are you saying you would ever call me a, ‘sharply dressed, genius, master of all forms of engineering’?”

“You’ve got me there,” Ace flatly replied.

Slam snickered.

“Either way,” Ace continued as he took a seat on another couch, “until one of them says something, it’s not fair to call it flirting. Their relationship is their business, and their business only.”

“It is my business, because if I have to watch those two sad sacks ignoring each other’s hints any longer, I’m gonna lose my mind!”

“It’s not that bad,” Lexi said. “I think it’s cute how sweet they are together even if they’re not dating.”

“Well, I think it’s stupid that they’re wasting time being friends when they’re both lucky enough to already be into each other.”

Ace chuckled. “I think someone is just jealous that a certain weather lady isn’t as chummy with him.”

“Hey! You leave Misty Breeze out of this!”

Lexi turned her head toward the door to the lab just before it opened, after which the rest of their heads followed. Out came Tech and Rev, laughing down the hall together.

“Hoo boy. That one was pretty bad,” Tech said mirthfully. “But I think I’ve got one that’ll really get ya. Alright?” He paused for effect. “You must be the acid to my litmus paper, because every time we meet, I turn bright red.”

Rev chuckled. “How about this!” He cleared his throat. “Hey Tech, I wish I was adenine so I could be paired with- Um.” Upon noticing the others, he coughed awkwardly into his arm.

Tech side-eyed him, let out a little huff through his nose, then headed farther into the lounge.

“Hi guys,” he greeted casually, being met with some waves.

“Right back at ya,” Ace replied. “What’ve you both been up to?”

Though Tech opened his mouth to reply, Rev spoke up much faster.

“Nothing weird; Just telling each other some funny pick up lines! As a joke I mean! Just two best friends telling jokes! Nothing against Tech of course, he’s absolutely wonderful in every single way. I would just never actually mean any kind of pickup line because we’re-”

“Enough Rev,” Tech chided, momentarily clamping his fingers around his beak. “‘We were telling jokes,’ would have sufficed.” He ignored Rev’s pout as he turned back to Ace. “What’s up with the little get-together? Did we miss a memo or something?”

“Nope. I just think we all just got the idea to chill out here for a bit.”

The air chimed with the tone of an incoming holographic video call.

“Huh,” Ace said. “This might be the memo you mentioned, Tech.”

Pressing a button on his communicator, Ace let the call project above the coffee table for the team to see.

“Ace here, leader of The Loonatics. How can we help ya?”

“Oh thank goodness,” a woman's voice came through in grainy quality, along with an extremely fuzzy projection that made it impossible to see anything besides a rough lavender silhouette. “I am Wattney of the Quoptalians on the planet Fep-18, owner of the South-Anterior Energy Center in quadrant two from which I am calling.”

“That would explain the poor transmission quality,” Tech noted.

“You couldn’t have stepped away from the power plant for a bit?” Lexi asked.

“No. The situation is dire, and I need to stay here in order to monitor everything.”

“Fair enough,” Ace said with a shrug. “So what’s the problem?”

“Currently, my energy center supplies all the electricity for the entire quadrant, but the main generator has recently stopped working and we are running out of fuel for the backup generator. Soon, our backup will not be able to keep up with energy demands, and the entire quadrant could experience a massive blackout that would endanger two billion lives.”

“It’s a good thing saving billions of lives is what we do,” Ace asserted confidently. “What can we do to help?”

“We have two main issues that need to be addressed. One, we need help keeping the boiler that provides steam to our backup generator hot. And two, we need someone to help figure out how to fix the main generator.”

Rev tilted his head. “Not to sound rude but do you not have people who know how to fix the generator on your own planet?”

“Unfortunately, no. The main generator was built centuries ago; Its design is so outdated and specialized that nobody is left who understands how it functions. That is why we need someone with vast mechanical and programming knowledge to figure it out from scratch.”

Ace gave a nod. “Keep the backup generator hot and figure out how to fix the main one. Send us your coordinates and we’ll be right over.”

“Thank you. Sending them now. And please hurry.”

“On it! See you ASAP!” After ending the call, Ace got up and turned to the rest of the team. “Alright Loonatics! Rev, I’ll send you the coordinates I received from Wattney so you can call us up a wormhole to Fep-18. Tech, throw together whatever gear you have lying around that you think might help. Everyone else, grab your jetpacks and sit pretty until it’s time to head out.”

The team rang out into a chorus of acknowledgment before following Ace’s orders.

A few minutes later, everyone met back up in the lounge with Tech arriving last, a few small devices enclosed in one hand and a briefcase in the other.

“I’ve got some good news, and some bad news,” he said.

“The good news?” Lexi asked.

“I found a few of the Retro Fire Master Blasters that we used a couple of years ago, which should be useful for keeping the backup generator hot.”

“The bad news?” Ace asked.

“When I say, ‘few’, I mean I literally only found three of them.”

Duck scoffed. “You made them all in like five minutes last time, why not just remake the ones you lost?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I had more equipment to gather.”

Lexi looked at the briefcase in Tech’s hand. “And I’m guessing the equipment is in there?”

“Right you are,” Tech said, opening it up to reveal its contents. “Since I can’t be sure what I’ll be dealing with until I get there, I’ve brought my laptop, toolset, various technical components, and whatever programming books I could cram in there.” He smirked to himself. “Though, the books are mostly for Rev, as I’ve got them memorized.”

Rev appeared in front of Tech, smiling warmly as he rocked back and forth on his feet. “Aw, that is so considerate of you! Though entirely unnecessary because I’ve also memorized the content of every single one of your programming books and also every other book you’ve left in and around the lab. But really it’s the thought that counts and that is still so thoughtful! Though, I’d expect nothing less from my wonderful super-genius best friend!”

“And I shouldn’t have expected anything less from the best programmer in the universe, after me of course. But I can’t ignore your genius as well. After all, who better to be the best friend of the smartest person alive than the only person who comes anywhere close to matching his intellect?”

“Goodness Tech! That is the highest compliment I could ever hope to receive! And that is why I am so happy to be able to work with you each and every day because nothing could ever compare to how great it is to be appreciated by the most talented inventor who is amazing at everyth-”

“Ugh, seriously?” Duck interjected. “Stop flirting with each other so we get going already.”

“Flirting?!” Rev squawked. “Th-That’s not-! We’re not-! You-!” Rev’s already red beak started turning a darker shade. He looked to Tech for help, but he appeared to be too busy glaring at Duck.

“Okay listen,” he started, “just because Tech and I are really super close best friends that doesn’t necessarily mean that when we give each other compliments it implies we’re into each other in an equally deep but very different way. Because Tech and I are friends and nothing else, even if I can admit he has a lot of traits that would be appealing when it comes to a significant other, such as his aforementioned genius and of course his great sense of humor. But obviously with me being a roadrunner and a guy it’s not like we’d ev-”

A wire flew through the air and coiled tightly around Rev’s beak, cutting off his rant.

“We get it,” Tech said, voice serious but controlled. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, we all really should be going.”

“Uh, alright then,” Ace announced, sharing concerned looks with the rest of the team. “Let’s go.”

Using his magnetokinesis, Tech slipped the wire back off Rev’s beak and into the briefcase, which he promptly added the blasters to and closed before following Ace.

Rev fell behind, rubbing his beak with a disheartened sigh before joining the rest of the team.

“Ugh. Remind me again why we have to fly down to the power plant?” Duck moaned as everyone started making their way through the wormhole.

“The energy being created there puts out a lot of interference that could make generating a wormhole close by dangerous,” Tech explained.

“Ah, great!” Ace said as he and the rest of the team made it through, “we’ve got a nice air pad to land on.”

“Well duh,” Rev said, flying down as everyone else followed with their jetpacks. “You think I wouldn’t have checked to see where the best place to set up the wormhole would be? I also took the liberty of relaying a message to the South-Anterior Energy Center staff to be on the lookout for us. After all, it’s always good to be prepared!”

“Uhh, Rev,” Lexi said, blinking as a small group of Quoptalians waved them down for a landing, “I think there may have been something you didn’t prepare for.”

“What do you-” As Rev landed with the rest of the team, his heart landed in his throat, forcing him into silence.

On the heads of a few Quoptalians, were mechanical creatures identical to the biotech parasite that had once taken control of his brother and caused him to attack Acmetropolis.

Link to Boiling Point Chapter 2 ->

#Loonatics Unleashed #Rev x Tech #Tech x Rev #Rev Runner #Tech E. Coyote #Danger Duck #Lexi Bunny #Ace Bunny #Slam Tasmanian #Shipping #My Fanfiction #I tried doing some HTML but it failed...#If anyone knows how to insert a horizontal line on a post please let me know...#Also I hope this turns out okay because if it doesn't I think I'm gonna cry.#Anyway if I don't get cold feet the next chapter should be posted on Monday.#LU Fanfic Series Magnetic Attraction #LU Fanfic Boiling Point #LU Fanfics

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cashewally-sarcastic · 3 years

Text

It is hku’s 6th month anniversary, and it’s been a growing theme (tradition?) that I tend to write essays for said occasion, most of them being jokes. But instead, today I present a different kind of essay, one that isn’t written as a joke for once. This is an essay focusing on the grey morality of hku, and focuses on Siv as the example of said grey morality. Because of this, I do have to warn that there are major story spoilers ahead, so if you haven’t read hku or aren’t caught up to current events, I would recommend not reading this! This essay isn’t going anywhere, and spoiling yourself isn’t a very fun experience!

With that disclaimer out of the way, the essay (as per usual) is under the cut! Enjoy!

~~~

The Grey Morality of HKU

We live in a world that is not purely black and white, but instead many different shades of grey. Writing greyness into stories is difficult, especially when trying to create morally ambiguous characters, which is why most character conflicts in fiction is black and white. Moral greyness in characters is a very thin tightrope to balance on, since such characters fall in between heroes and villains, and bring layers of depth and complexity into the world. Most humans are not purely good or evil, and morally grey characters showcase this well. These characters can be incredibly complicated, and thus, it's difficult for authors to commit and stay on their tightrope. Sometimes they lean too far to one side and their intended moral greyness gets destroyed. But in Hyrule Kingdom Updates, or HKU, Quill not only walks this tightrope with ease, but does backflips on it and performs a whole circus act with their characters mimicking the same routine. One of these talented tightrope-walkers that performs in such a circus act is Asivus Hartell, better known as Siv.

Siv is one of the main examples of the grey morality of HKU. He’s the sarcastic, pessimistic orator that serves as the role of the narrator for the story. Introduced as a psychological egoist, or someone who believes that everyone’s actions are derived out of personal interest, his personality, attitude, and actions all reek of the scent of “villain”. He’s cynical, hates almost everyone in the castle, and is also a criminal. Over time, his egoist beliefs are slowly challenged, and when his ties to the people who challenge his egoist morals are cut, his egoism goes even further downhill, leading him to become a utilitarian existentialist.

Utilitarian existentialism is hard to properly define, as there is no clear-cut definition. It is the combination of two different philosophies, utilitarianism and existentialism. Utilitarianism is the belief that actions are right if they are useful or for the benefit of a majority; if it provides the greatest amount of good for the greatest number of people, it’s the right thing to do. Existentialism is the belief that there are no set morals for life and no specific meaning to life— people are free to create their own meaning and define their own existence. Utilitarian existentialism is the combination of these two beliefs, and Siv falling into this moral belief can lead to its own opportunities, both for the plot and for himself.

Siv, by the dictionary definition, is a villain. One of the core beliefs he holds, mostly thanks to his egoism, is that everyone is a terrible, selfish person except for him and Ganon. This is not only harmful to the rest of the population because of the possibility of the Calamity being revived, but it’s harmful to Siv as well. Thinking everyone is bad except for the entity that’s weaponizing your malice, or manipulating your trauma, is not the most healthy thing. In addition, as the readers, we can see things from multiple perspectives, and therefore know that not everyone is a terrible or selfish person. By seeing these multiple perspectives and knowing these things, we root against Siv and his goal of resurrecting the Calamity, for his view of the world and the people in it is flawed. Siv succeeding in his objective wouldn’t be good for anyone, including himself. If this was Siv’s only belief, it would be more of a clear-cut black and white story, and Siv would just be a villain. However, that is not the case.

The other core belief Siv believes is one that Astor leads him to: Getting rid of all the terrible, selfish people in the world is the morally correct thing to do, as the kingdom would be a better place and he’d finally be happy. “Defeating the evil in the kingdom will make everything end up good” is a mindset that many stereotypical heroes share. This is the belief in the stories of many people’s childhoods, and people root for them because it’s usually correct in the context of said story. There’s nothing fundamentally wrong with Siv’s belief; he does have a point and does deserve to be happy. Furthermore, most of the problem causers in Hyrule would be gone, preventing all the hurt and trauma all the characters have to cope with from happening again. For example, getting rid of Ligero is something the entire reader-base has been cheering for since the old man was first introduced. It would be satisfying to see people such as those face consequences for their actions, and as readers, we like satisfying endings. Unfortunately, the problem is that Siv believes everyone is bad except him and Ganon, so he’d be getting rid of everyone, and effectively resurrecting the Calamity, something that devastated the kingdom and brought a massive amount of death, in the process. Taking that into account, you wouldn’t want Siv to succeed. And as a bonus, killing anyone and everyone he could possibly care about in any capacity would not be good for his already crumbling mental state. All of this creates a mental tug-of-war in the reader’s head, because they're rooting for Siv to succeed but also hoping that Siv will fail. Is he in the right? No, because not everyone is a bad person and killing everyone by raising the Calamity isn't ever the right thing to do. But is he in the wrong? Also no, because utilitarianism isn't inherently bad, neither is existentialism, and the moral principle itself can have good intentions. Quill writes Siv to be a very complex character with no absolute right or wrong mentality. There’s no surface answer to if Siv is correct in his thinking or not, as this moral greyness goes a lot deeper than the surface level you see within the dialogue.

Siv walks upon the same morally grey tightrope that we, the readers, fight ourselves over within our own mental game of tug-of-war. His moral ambiguity is a huge part of his characterization, as well as a major highlight on the plot of HKU as a whole. The picture Quill painted is not only in multiple shades of grey, but also full of color and life. And out of all the shades of grey Quill used in their masterpiece, one of the most interesting shades is Siv. Quill did an excellent job at exploring this moral greyness and it shows well; you can truly see the care that they put into Siv as a character through how he affects the world around him. The kingdom of Hyrule is not made of black and white, but instead, is painted in multiple shades of grey that reflect our own world within itself, since nothing is as simple as it seems.

~~~

Want to read more about Siv’s morals? Quill wrote an in-depth explanation themselves, and does a much better job of explaining it than I do, so I recommend reading it if that peaks your interest! Click HERE to be sent to that post! (also major spoilers, so be warned)

~~~

Now, since you got to the bottom of this post, and because I might be a little too polite, I need to give some thank-yous to a handful of people.

The first thank-you is to Rev (@swordlesbianss) for giving me the push I needed to actually write this thing! You pretty much kept me accountable for getting this done by mentioning your essay (which I look forward to reading when it’s ready, take your time), so thank you, Rev! You definitely got me to actually start writing the original version of this essay, and caused me to write it to where it is now!

The second thank-you is to Aura (@auroraborealis1890) who beta read the first draft of this essay! You made sure it wasn’t completely incomprehensible, thank you so much Aura! By being able to read it at all, you were a huge help to what was essentially a crazy person’s ramblings. You’re a great friend and I’m very grateful you read my first draft of bullshit <3

The third thank-you is a huge one to Bunny (@bunnywabbit229) who polished up this essay! All of the tone, spell checks, and really beautiful analogies were proofread by Bunny, some invented by them! They took a good 5+ hours out of their day and made this little rock of an essay become the shining diamond it is! I could point out so many things that they made better, but I don’t want to gush for too long. Bunny, I know I already told you this but if I could buy you a large brownie pizza, I would because you helped so much and I appreciate it so much!

The final thank-you is to Quill, the author of @hyrule-kingdom-updates, who made the inspiration for this essay. You have made such a wonderful story that’s rich with so many amazing characters and astounding worldbuilding. You made a masterpiece that inspired an essay of over 1000 words and I’m in awe. You truly deserve to know how wonderful your writing is and all the effort you’ve put into your characters and story is not going unnoticed. So thank you so much for putting your story out into the world, Quill.

#hku #hku spoilers #<- got that out of the way now time for the writer's cut in the tags #this was originally going to be an essay about Siv and Larc and how their morality challenges our view of it #Siv is moral. Larc is immoral. You'd expect them to be opposites. But they're not #as time went on Siv slowly started taking over the essay entirely because there's just SO MUCH TO HIM #so the topic shifted into an essay about the moral greyness of hku and used siv as a prime example #it eventually got to this point (which is fortunate because that other essay was going to be even worse that this one)#also the tightrope analogy with a bit of circus theme is half inspired by some google stuff about how hard moral greyness is #and half inspired by the fact that i am a clown honking my little clown nose at 3am trying my best #also another tangent: if you were awake around 1am (est) and you heard me going insane on a google doc #the first draft of this essay was that google doc but i didn't want to say it because what nerd writes essays at 1am #(i am. i am that nerd)#anyways #thank you for reading all of this!#i hope you have a wonderful day/night/whatever time!#<3

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hello-im-not-a-possum · 3 years

Note

Can we get a fic of Everyone's first reaction to snowflake?

“Everyone was used to supernatural bullshit and as the toons already existed for several years now, they already knew that the Ink could create life. So while there was a bit of shock for some at the thought of the Janitor being the new father of a toon of his own, they mostly congratulated Wally on his new son and/or gave him parenting advice.”

...Sorry, this feels like a cop out, so we just gotta throw a child into a different dimension for kicks and giggles and character development.

Knowing the magic user's history with this kind of thing, Snowflake couldn't help but feel nervous when he saw Joey painting a large circle on the wall and intricate symbols within the said circle.

"G-grandpa Joey, what are you doing?"

"Opening a portal to a different dimension." The animator replied nonchalantly. "An important key ingredient for several reversal spells no longer seems to exist in this one, so I'm getting more from the closest one that has a lot of it before the Ink starts acting up again."

"Oh?" The little devil looked intrigued, the last time a visitor from another dimension came to their own, he was strange, but friendly! And wondered what the rest of that dimension, or other ones like it were like. "Can I come? I-I'll be good I promise!"

"Well..." Joey brushed his mustache in thought as the portal started to open. "Other dimensions can be quite unpredictable, especially ones where magic is much more secretive than it is in our own, I don't think the studio on the other side even has living toons yet!" The animator fidgeted with his collar. "And given the track record other Joeys have with their own studios and magic, I don't think it's smart for me to take you..."

"Pleeeeeaaaaasse!" the imp begged. "I promise that I'll stay close and not run off! ...unless it's an emergency."

"Hmm..."

The magic user narrowed his eyebrows and continued to stroke his mustache as he thought about the potential consequences for bringing Snowflake along. The thought of a distraught Wally discovering that he had taken his son somewhere dangerous and the kid got hurt as a result had made the man immune to the imp's otherwise irresistible puppy eyes, but the Ink behind the imp slowly rising from a puddle to a featureless figure that was making threatening gestures made him quickly realize that the consequences for NOT bringing Snowflake along might be even worse than taking him.

"Okay."

"Yay!" the little devil cheered, taking Joey by the hand and pulling him through the portal. "C'mon! Let's go see what other dad's like!"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," the old man gave a sharp tug on the speckled imp as he tried to run off and knelt down to be closer to his eye level. "This is *just* a last-resort errand run, nothing more, nothing less. Now that we're here, we are going to find the ingredient, get it and get out. Ideally, we won't even come across our alternate selves, let alone speak to them!"

"Why?"

Joey looked around nervously before bringing his voice down to a whisper and gestured for Snowflake to do the same.

"Because of the butterfly effect we'll bring here! How do you think the Wally on this side will react when you tell him you're his son from a different dimension when where he's from, magic is genuinely not real for him?"

"...He'll freak out?"

"Yes! Not only will he freak out but he'll probably tell everyone he knows! Including this world's Joey, who judging by his nickname; "That shi- shoot heel puppeteer", is the last person who needs to know about magic, let alone how to use it..."

"Oh. Yeah, that doesn't sound good..." the imp agreed as he suddenly regretted his decision. "Do you think it's too late to throw me back-"

The pair gazed at the now blank spot on the wall where they came from.

"...Unfortunately yes, so stay close and put on a disguise."

"I-I didn't bring one..." the imp sheepishly responded. "...Sorry, I got too caught up in the excitement."

Joey sighed deeply as he took off his glasses and sweater vest, putting them on the kid toon instead.

"It's not the best, but it'll do for now as long as we don't stick around long enough for them to see past it, so let's hurry out of here!"

Snowflake nodded and guided Joey as he tried to navigate the similar-yet different studio. (The man did not wear glasses for the sake of aesthetic.)

The layout seemed similar enough, but there were less pipes running through the building, the colors were duller, the stale smell of tobacco, old coffee, sweat, and a coppery-earthy scent that reminded Joey of blood but wasn't quite similar enough for him to call it that lingered in every single room they entered, the employees that they passed might as well have been reanimated corpses with how drained of energy they looked, all of them didn't even so much as acknowledge the pair's presence.

That was, until, an unfamiliar-looking yet familiar sounding janitor took notice. The man didn't look like Snowflake's dad, he was a lanky fellow and wore the same hat that his own father wore to work, but the similarities in appearance stopped right there. This world's Wally had shaggy, dark brown hair, eyes so dark that they looked black, a crooked nose, and when he smiled at them, Snowflake could clearly see that the man was missing a tooth.

"Hey, how'd you two get in 'ere?"

Joey cursed under his breath before answering the other Wally.

"Well, I was just-"

The dimension-traveling duo suddenly felt dozens of angry eyes on them, which had melted into confusion and mild intriguement as they realized that the man who spoke looked more like a kindly grandpa with an odd-looking Bendy doll with him instead of their sleazy boss. The pair of outsiders were afraid they fucked everything up before to the relief of the pair and the horror to everybody else, they heard the voice of Sammy in the other room shouting "God dammit Joey! I told you time and time again to stay out of the music department!" followed by the revving of a chainsaw.

The animator was quick to realize his mistake as he cleared his throat and did his best 'sounds like a normal voice but isn't MY normal voice' voice.

"-I was just looking for a herbal shop nearby but got turned around. If one of you fine folks could give my grandson and I directions, we'll happily get out of your hair."

Wally frowned in confusion as he looked at the very obviously not-human creature who smiled meekly at him and waved. He shrugged off the mild weirdness as he remembered that he did know where an herbal shop was.

"Dat's all? No problem! Herbal shop's right next to a really good burgah joint, has a statue of a knight wranglin' a unicorn right outside da place, ya can't miss it, an' by extension, ya can't miss da herbal shop eithah."

"Why thank you, you're too kind..."

"Oh and uh, Sorry if da musicians 'ere freaked ya out." The janitor adjusted his hat, it now covered the man's eyes. "Our music director recently got re-hirahed but nobody's willin' ta forgive da boss ova what he put him through, not dat I blame 'em, I get jitteahs every time I think about it happenin' ta me too!"

Joey nodded sympathetically as he reached for his companion's hand and internally panicked as he couldn't find it.

---

Snowflake ran off, the eyes on his back and by proxy, the pressure of knowing that the fate of this world and his own was on his back was far too intense. In his mad rush, he had only made his situation worse with everywhere he ran as he had lost Joey's glasses on accident, which was a vital part of the disguise.

"Holy sheit! is that a bloody livin' toy?!"

"What in the goddamn... Bertrum! Come look! You gotta see this!"

"My word! What has Drew done?"

"Okay, this time I'm finally going to quit for real! I swear, these hallucinations are just getting worse every time I come into work!"

"It... it worked! Tom, look!"

"Or at least, this one looks better than the first model- Hey! Get back here!"

It was terrifying thinking about how these alternate versions of the people he knew and grew to love, ones who shared their voices and careers, but not appearances, memories, and experiences could very well be his enemies. Most chilling of all, he heard Joey's voice in the crowd.

"Well done Tommy! At least this one looked halfway presentable!"

He shuddered at the thought of that Joey getting his hands on him. He didn't even know where he ran off to, only that he had to escape from them, he then squeezed himself into a small crack in the wall, an easy feat for a boneless ink creature, not so much for anything else.

His heart pounded loudly against his chest, the little imp tried to hush it, and prayed that the noise wouldn’t give him away he just needed to calm down. But his prayers went unanswered as the 'click-clack' of a pair of high heels passed by, and a woman crouched down, possibly hearing him.

“Now how on earth did you manage to wedge yourself in there, little guy?”

He recognized that voice all right, he scooched deeper into his hiding spot, hoping she’d leave him alone. The woman, the Susie Campbell of this world judging by her voice, might’ve looked at him with concern, but something about her just felt… wrong to him. He knew of alternate realities, good ones, bad ones, and downright weird ones, but this one felt uncanny to him and he just wanted to go home, it wasn't outright worse than most dimensions, but it seemed so bleak and miserable.

Hopefully he was wrong, but as of right now, it felt like this was a world that wouldn't even so much as bat an eye at its own destruction.

"I-I shouldn't have asked in the f-first place..." he muttered to himself. "I s-should've j-just left Joey to do his errand and s-stayed out of it..."

"Hey," the woman gently knocked on the wall, all the imp could see of her was her face, a face that looked mostly normal except for her left eye, which looked glassy and didn't look at him like her right eye did. "Are you okay in there?"

Snowflake stayed quiet.

"Oh no..." the woman muttered to herself. "Don't panic, I'll go get help!"

She said as she left, but her words didn't make the little guy feel any better.

He slowly crawled out of his hiding spot, ready to hunt down another one while fighting off the guilt that came with making the other Susie worry about him, while her eye was weird, she seemed just as nice as the one from his own dimension.

What seemed less nice however, was the sudden cold, yet firm grip on his shoulder.

"You know, it's very rude ta ignore folks who's just tryin' ta help you."

"Eep!"

The imp spun around to face a man with a familiar voice, he was a tall, dark-skinned, older man with an eye patch on his right eye, had a thin frame, and attire that vaguely reminded Snowflake of a comic about a western vampire hunter that Buddy showed him.

"Awfully jumpy, aren't ya, kiddo?" Norman chuckled as he knelt down to his eye level. "I get that a lot from people. But in all seriousness, we can't just have yous wanderin' around wherever you please, this here studio's a dang deathtrap, even on the best of days."

"S-sorry Norman..." Snowflake adjusted Joey's sweater vest as a realization dawned on him: judging by the studio workers' lack of a surprised reaction to him, this world might be more magical than his own world's Joey assumed. "Hey, wait a minute, are toons real h-here too? Can I find Bendy, Alice and Boris around here?"

Norman raised an eyebrow in confusion, but thankfully for the imp's sake, he stayed calm.

"Mr. Drew's tryin' but he ain't got a dang thing ta show for it. Although, I'm kinda hoping he can't, it doesn't sit too right with me. Just call it a gut feelin', but I don't trust that anythin' good will come from him messing with things like that."

"Y-yeah..." Snowflake nodded. "I've been here for less than f-fifteen minutes and I think I can see exactly what you mean. This place's Joey seems so much worse than my Joey."

"Sorry ta hear that little guy..." Norman knelt down to the little demon. "So, would ya mind ta tell me about this 'other Joey?"

"Oh, sure thing!"

---

True to her word, when Susie returned, she brought over three people; Wally, Joey who was now wearing his slightly broken glasses (Who Snowflake was relieved to see), and a shirtless, long-haired man with a chainsaw in his hands.

He was tall and broad, had dark brown hair and tan skin, his eyes were a stormy gray, and they were sharp with a steadfast determination that made Snowflake feel nervous, the little imp felt like there was something deeply terrifying about this man, and not just because he was currently carrying a dangerous weapon. Although, he couldn't deny that he felt a sense of familiarity with this man that he had not felt with the others in this dimension.

Snowflake felt like he's met this man before.

"Alright, and he should be right here..." The voice actress trailed off as she saw the timid devil shyly wave at her, very much freed from his wall prison and seemed to be chatting with her favorite projectionist. "Oh! Hi Norman! Thanks for getting him out for us and keeping him company!"

"It was no problem, the kid wasn't half bad company."

"Ya know kid, we're glad ta see ya okay, but your grandpops and I was lookin' everywhere for you! Not gonna lie, ya gave us both a scare when ya ran off alone like dat."

"The fuck is that thing?"

"Sammy!" The woman elbowed the shirtless man in the ribs. "Be nice!"

"Alright..." The man rolled his eyes and gave a forced smile that showed off black gums and yellowish-grayish teeth that creeped Snowflake out (the smile itself, not the man's gums or teeth, judging by his smell, he was an avid smoker and it was at least normal for him to have a mouth like that, the smile however... he doesn't think a man's smile should be that wide.). As he lifted the little devil up by the shirt like a scruffed kitten, he presented him to Joey. "Now then, is this your lost little lamb?"

"Yes." Joey reached for the imp. "Please don't hold him like that."

"Nearest exit is down the hall, take a right turn when you reach the giant broken pipe that's leaking everywhere and hasn't been touched for at least a week." The man gestured fluidly as he still held up that creepy smile. "As... lovely as it was for you two to visit us and our little studio, we really should be getting back to work before Joey decides to fire and blacklist everyone in this room for loitering or something."

"Uh... thanks?" Joey suddenly snapped upright. "Wait, how are you all so calm about this?! All of you are barely even reacting over a living cartoon character right there!"

"Speaking of which do you know who doesn't need to know about that? Our boss. You claim you're not here for a meet and greet and I don't think this should turn into one. You got the information you came here for, now get what you needed from here and get out."

"Wow, you're a rather blunt fellow, aren't you?"

"You could say so."

"W-well, I-it was scary, but it was also nice meeting all of you! Maybe we should visit again later so we can know each other better!"

"Oooh! I'll look forward to it!" Susie smiled warmly. "Good luck with your ingredient hunt, boys!"

Sammy started to shove the pair down the hall as he felt they wouldn't leave otherwise.

"Yeah, yeah, goodbye and all that, see you soon, I won't forget to write... Have yourselves some happy travels! Goodbye again."

The musician led them out of the building and dusted off his hands as he returned to the others who did not look happy with him.

"That was very rude, Lawrence..." Susie scolded. "They just wanted our help!"

Wally shook his head but didn't add anything.

"And we gave it!” He hissed. “Do you really think it would be safe for them to stay and talk with the shitheel around? Especially after what he just did to us?! Do you want HIM to know that there's a different version of him who got everything he's wanted and more? What do you think he'll do to them when he finds them? Do you want to find out?"

Susie's face scrunched up in realization as the other two men uncomfortably shuffled in their spots.

"I thought so..."

"...Think they'll come back?" Norman piped up. "I kinda wanted to talk with that other Joey."

The musician shrugged.

"Do ya at least think we'll find a way ta get ta 'em ourselves?"

"Maybe? If they would a way here, I wouldn't be surprised if we could get there."

"Wanna look for a way there? Ya gotta admit you're curious what the other us are like too!"

"Hmm... Well, maybe after hours."

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #Hell's Studio AU #joey drew #snowflake the demon #wally franks #norman polk #susie campbell #sammy lawrence #fanfic

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supremeuppityone · 3 years

Photo

This was created for the Klaroline Fall Bingo Event @klarolinefallbingo. It’s a sequel to Chapter 119 - Part 2 - What Makes Up a Monster, in my series, A Beautiful Symmetry.

Part 3 is here.

Warning: Some angst

Prompt: Fake blood

Please review here.

______________________________

Why did she do this to herself? Caroline stabbed the makeup brush into the foundation palette a bit harder than necessary, watching a couple of the extras giggle and fawn all over Klaus. Despite his worldwide fame and countless industry accolades, he’d somehow remained the same generous, down-to-earth man he’d been when she first met him two decades ago. Not that he’d remember her. She’d made sure of that.

One of her fangs dug into the tip of her tongue, pricking it just enough to sate her monster. Monsters shouldn’t have regrets. What they’d had together should’ve been a brief fling, but instead feelings happened, and she ended up compelling him to forget. It had been for the best — he was close with his siblings and he desperately wanted to be famous — that combination spelled disaster for her kind.

But Caroline couldn’t stay away. Almost as though she was doing penance, every few years, she’d find her way onto the makeup team for one of his movies, feeling the need to check up on him. However, she hid behind a wall of cheerful professionalism, making sure not to let him get close again. Her heart could only take so much.

“My apologies, sweetheart.”

Klaus’ accented voice was a buttery warmth that flowed over her. Straightening her spine, she replied dryly, “It’s such a pity to have to drag the Great Klaus Mikaelson away from his fan club so that he can do his actual job.”

“Might want to mind that sharp tongue of yours, love; when you get a bit older, you’ll find that youth and beauty only get you so far in this business.”

Arrogant little bastard. Tucking back a grin at Klaus’ assumption that he was older than her, Caroline tightened the collar of his protective cape a bit more than strictly necessary. “Sharp tongues have their uses,” she muttered, carefully reapplying the coagulated blood gel to the prosthetic gash she’d crafted along his cheek and neck. “You’d be surprised how many movie sets this sharp tongue has talked me onto.”

That smirk of his deepened, dimples cutting into his cheeks. Fake blood had never looked so good. “Perhaps you’re a secret fan of mine? Consider me flattered.”

“I’ve caught a couple of your movies.” No need for him to know she’d been the lead special effects artist on the set of the highly acclaimed paranormal drama, Ghostly Secrets. And the blockbuster sci-fi movie, The Price of Ambition. Or a handful of others where she’d purposely managed the other makeup artists to avoid him becoming too familiar with her face over the years. Fuck, that was pathetic.

He seemed charmed by her terse tone, chuckling as he replied, “I have to admit, I’ve had a good run in this town, but lately everything just feels so predictable. A table at Pearl’s, drinks at Boarding House — the days all run together.” Klaus frowned, leaning forward as he became more invested in what he was saying. “And you should see the scripts my agent’s been sending me. Bloody awful drivel that’s even lazier than my old Hell’s Hybrid movies.”

Caroline’s blue eyes widened, and she hated the way her sluggish heart suddenly began to pick up its pace. It’s just words. It doesn’t mean anything. “Then quit. You’ve probably made enough to last you several lifetimes.”

“But what if I want to live more than several lifetimes?”

His cheeky question made her hand tremble, and she accidentally nicked underneath his chin while carefully trimming the loose edge of his prosthetic. Damn it. She quickly sliced her finger, dabbing a tiny bit of blood in the wound so that it would heal instantly. “Not sure the planet could take the weight of your ego for so long,” she teased, doing her best to strangle the hopeful butterflies that fluttered inside.

“You wound me, sweetheart.” His tone turned speculative as he added, “I suspect my younger brother would’ve enjoyed you.”

Caroline busied herself applying a thin layer of adhesive to the smaller prosthetics, unsure of what to say. A few years ago, Kol’s death had made global headlines when he died in the plane crash that also took their sister. Her heart had ached for Klaus, but she stayed away, knowing that if she saw him grieving, she’d compel him to remember her just so she could comfort him. She couldn’t be selfish with him.

She’d been proud of the way he’d grown from the tragedy, taking the time he needed to grieve, before returning to the spotlight. There was a quiet strength to him now, a matter-of-fact confidence that had been lacking when they first met. “Your family would be proud of you,” she murmured, briefly squeezing his shoulder so she wouldn’t do something stupid like give him an awkward, way-too-familiar hug.

“Thank you.” Klaus paused, gray eyes regarding her in a way that made her wonder what he saw. “You’re very easy to talk to — maybe we could have a drink after we wrap for the day?”

No. You can’t go through this again. “I doubt you’re lacking for company. But I’ll see you tomorrow,” Caroline replied gently, flashing him a smile that made her face hurt.

Undeterred, he winked, telling her, “Challenge accepted. I’ll earn your company eventually, love.”

______________________________

The speedboat revved its engine, the stunt driver taking sharp turns through the narrow canal as he waited for Klaus to get into position. The studio always shamelessly plugged the fact that Klaus was one of the few leading men who’d perform at least one major stunt per film. Why did he always have to pick the most dangerous ones?

Caroline carried the last makeup case to her car, resolutely staring ahead once she saw the safety coordinators and trainers buckling him into his harness. She never could stomach watching those scenes. The first explosion still made her jump, despite her anticipating the loud boom. However, it was the unexpected second explosion and shattering glass that made her gasp. Something was wrong.

She followed the screams to the center bridge overlooking the canal, the crowd pointing at the side of the skyscraper that Klaus was supposed to parachute past and shoot a grappling hook into the speedboat below. Instead, several cables had snapped in the accidental second explosion, and the wall of shattered glass showed her that Klaus had been slammed into the side of the building.

No. Tears instantly sprang to her eyes, and she didn’t bother restraining her strength as she shoved people out of the way. She had to do something. But there was nothing to be done. The crew frantically retracted the remaining cables on the crane, pulling him back to the roof. But it didn’t matter — he wasn’t Klaus anymore. Just a body. She cursed her enhanced senses, hating how the staff still had hope as they watched. Because they couldn’t hear how the air stopped inflating his lungs. How his heart had stilled. Caroline closed her eyes, sending a silent goodbye out into the universe. For he who he was.

______________________________

The morgue was crawling with parasitic reporters, all salivating at the thought of capturing a grisly morgue picture of the famous Klaus Mikaelson’s corpse. Caroline compelled her way onto the hospital’s staff, the heightened security a minor annoyance that she fortunately understood how to navigate.

She brushed aside the curls along Klaus’ forehead, the ghastly bruising much more faint than when he’d first been removed from the destroyed set. Suddenly, his body jerked violently on the slab; Klaus’ eyes opened with a gasp.

There. Confusion clouded his gaze as he stared at her, the compelled memories rattling around in his mind as he sorted through them. “Caroline,” he asked uncertainly, before recognition colored his tone as he exclaimed, “Caroline! It’s been so long and I’ve missed you. I didn’t even realize what I was missing, but I felt it all the same. I felt you.”

Caroline didn’t know when she started crying, but soon she found herself wrapped up in his arms. He murmured against her curls, “What happened?”

Time to discuss those several lifetimes he’d mentioned.

#klarolinefallbingo #uppity bitch fanfic #klaroline fanfic #klaroline aesthetic #aesthetic #klaroline #klaroline does hollywood #i love sequels #thanks for the ask!!!

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rlxtechoff · 2 years

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mehrauli · 4 years

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Away From the Hindus

This essay is Chapter 27 in Ambedkar’s W&S Volume 5. It’s not one of his more widely-read works, and I think it should be, because it spells out his view on religion in much clearer terms than you’ll find elsewhere. It is not just his view of religion but the correct view of religion which does us the favour of dispelling a lot of the bad discourse that remain current in religious studies today. It’s also considerably shorter than some of his other pieces like Annihilation of Caste or Philosophy of Hinduism and may make a good jumping-off point point for people who haven’t read him yet at all.

A large majority of Untouchables who have reached a capacity to think out their problem believe that one way to solve the problem of the Untouchables is for them to abandon Hinduism and be converted to some other religion. At a Conference of the Mahars held in Bombay on 31st May 1936 a resolution to this effect was unanimously passed. Although the Conference was a Conference of the Mahars1, the resolution had the support of a very large body of Untouchables throughout India. No resolution had created such a stir. The Hindu community was shaken to its foundation and curses imprecations and threats were uttered against the Untouchables who were behind this move.

Four principal objections have been urged by the opponents against the conversion of the Untouchables:

What can the Untouchables gain by conversion ? Conversion can make no change in the status of the Untouchables.

All religions are true, all religions are good. To change religion is a futility.

The conversion of the Untouchables is political in its nature.

The conversion of the Untouchables is not genuine as it is not based on faith.

It cannot take much argument to demonstrate that the objections are puerile and inconsequential.

To take the last objection first. History abounds with cases where conversion has taken place without any religious motive. What was the nature of its conversion of Clovis and his subjects to Christianity ? How did Ethelbert and his Kentish subjects become Christians ? Was there a religious motive which led them to accept the new religion ? Speaking on the nature of conversions to Christianity that had taken place during the middle ages Rev. Reichel says:1

“One after another the nations of Europe are converted to the faith; their conversion is seen always to proceed from above, never from below. Clovis yields to the bishop Remigius and forthwith he is followed by the Baptism of 3,000 Franks. Ethelbert yields to the mission of Augustine and forthwith all Kent follows his example; when his son Eadbald apostatises, the men of Kent apostatise with him. Essex is finally won by the conversion of King Sigebert, who under the influence of another king, Oswy, allows himself to be baptised. Northumberland is temporarily gained by the conversion of its king, Edwin, but falls away as soon as Edwin is dead. It anew accepts the faith, when another king, Oswald, promotes its diffusion. In the conversion of Germany, a bishop, Boniface, plays a prominent part, in close connection with the princes of the country, Charles Martel and Pepin; the latter, in return for his patronage receiving at Soissons the Church’s sanction to a violent act of usurpation. Denmark is gained by the conversion of its kings, Herald Krag, Herald Blastand and Canute, Sweden by that of the two Olofs; and Russian, by the conversion of its sovereign, Vladimir. Everywhere Christianity addresses itself first to kings and princes; everywhere the bishops and abbots appear as its only representatives.

Nor was this all, for where a king had once been gained, no obstacle by the Mediaeval missionaries to the immediate indiscriminate baptism of his subjects. Three thousand warriors of Clovis following the example of their king, were at once admitted to the sacred rite; the subjects of Ethelbert were baptised in numbers after the conversion of their prince, without preparation, and with hardly any instruction. The Germans only were less hasty in following the example of others. In Russia, so great was the number of those who crowded to be baptised after the baptism of Vladimir, that the sacrament had to be administered to hundreds at a time.”

History records cases where conversion has taken place as a result of compulsion or deceit.

Today religion has become a piece of ancestral property. It passes from father to son so does inheritance. What genuineness is there in such cases of conversion ? The conversion of the Untouchables if it did take place would take after full deliberation of the value of religion and the virtue of the different religions. How can such a conversion be said to be not a genuine conversion ? On the other hand, it would be the first case in history of genuine conversion. It is therefore difficult to understand why the genuineness of the conversion of the Untouchables should be doubted by anybody.

The third objection is an ill-considered objection. What political gain will accrue to the Untouchables from their conversion has been defined by nobody. If there is a political gain, nobody has proved that it is a direct inducement to conversion.

The opponents of conversion do not even seem to know that a distinction has to be made between a gain being a direct inducement to conversion and its being only an incidental advantage. This distinction cannot be said to be a distinction without a difference. Conversion may result in a political gain to the Untouchables. It is only where a gain is a direct inducement that conversion could be condemned as immoral or criminal. Unless therefore the opponents of conversion prove that the conversion desired by the Untouchables is for political gain and for nothing else their accusation is baseless. If political gain is only an incidental gain then there is nothing criminal in conversion. The fact, however, is that conversion can bring no new political gain to the Untouchables. Under the constitutional law of India every religious community has got the right to separate political safeguards. The Untouchables in their present condition enjoy political rights similar to those which are enjoyed by the Muslims and the Christians. If they change their faith the change is not to bring into existence political rights which did not exist before. If they do not change they will retain the political rights which they have. Political gain has no connection with conversion. The charge is a wild charge made without understanding.

The second objection rests on the premise that all religions teach the same thing. It is from the premise that a conclusion is drawn that since all religions teach the same thing there is no reason to prefer one religion to other. It may be conceded that all religions agree in holding that the meaning of life is to be found in the pursuit of ‘good’. Up to this point the validity of the premise may be conceded. But when the premise goes beyond and asserts that because of this there is no reason to prefer one religion to another it becomes a false premise.

Religions may be alike in that they all teach that the meaning of life is to be found in the pursuit of ‘good’. But religions are not alike in their answers to the question ‘What is good ?’ In this they certainly differ. One religion holds that brotherhood is good, another caste and untouchability is good.

There is another respect in which all religions are not alike. Besides being an authority which defines what is good, religion is a motive force for the promotion and spread of the ‘good’. Are all religions agreed in the means and methods they advocate for the promotion and spread of good ? As pointed out by Prof. Tiele, religion is:

“One of the mightiest motors in the history of mankind, which formed as well as tore asunder nations, united as well as divided empires, which sanctioned the most atrocious and barbarous deeds, the most libinous customs, inspired the most admirable acts of heroism, self renunciation, and devotion, which occasioned the most sanguinary wars, rebellions and persecutions, as well as brought about the freedom, happiness and peace of nations—at one time a partisan of tyranny, at another breaking its chains, now calling into existence and fostering a new and brilliant civilization, then the deadly foe to progress, science and art.”

Apart from these oscillations there are permanent differences in the methods of promoting good as they conceive it. Are there not religions which advocate violence? Are there not religions which advocate nonviolence ? Given these facts how can it be said that all religions are the same and there is no reason to prefer one to the other.

In raising the second objection the Hindu is merely trying to avoid an examination of Hinduism on its merits. It is an extraordinary thing that in the controversy over conversion not a single Hindu has had the courage to challenge the Untouchables to say what is wrong with Hinduism. The Hindu is merely taking shelter under the attitude generated by the science of comparative religion. The science of comparative religion has broken down the arrogant claims of all revealed religions that they alone are true and all others which are not the results of revelation are false. That revelation was too arbitrary, too capricious test to be accepted for distinguishing a true religion from a false was undoubtedly a great service which the science of comparative religion has rendered to the cause of religion. But it must be said to the discredit of that science that it has created the general impression that all religions are good and there is no use and purpose in discriminating them.

The first objection is the only objection which is worthy of serious consideration. The objection proceeds on the assumption that religion is a purely personal matter between man and God. It is supernatural. It has nothing to do with social. The argument is no doubt sensible. But its foundations are quite false. At any rate, it is a one-sided view of religion and tat too based on aspects of religion which are purely historical and not fundamental.

To understand the function and purposes of religion it is necessary to separate religion from theology. The primary things in religion are the usages, practices and observances, rites and rituals. Theology is secondary. Its object is merely to nationalize them. As stated by Prof. Robertson Smith:

“Ritual and practical usages were, strictly speaking the sum total of ancient religions. Religion in primitive times was not a system of belief with practical applications; it was a body of fixed traditional practices, to which every member of society conformed as a matter of courage, Men would not be men if they agreed to do certain things without having a reason for their action; but in ancient religion the reason was not first formulated as a doctrine and then expressed in practice, but conversely, practice preceded doctrinal theory.”

Equally necessary it is not to think of religion as though it was super-natural. To overlook the fact that the primary content of religion is social is to make nonsense of religion. The Savage society was concerned with life and the preservation of life and it is these life processes which constitute the substance and source of the religion of the Savage society. So great was the concern of the Savage society for life and the preservation of life that it made them the basis of its religion. So central were the life processes in the religion of the Savage society that every thing which affected them became part of its religion. The ceremonies of the Savage society were not only concerned with the events of birth, attaining of manhood, puberty, marriage, sickness, death and war but they were also concerned with food. Among the pastoral peoples the flocks and herds are sacred. Among agricultural peoples seedtime and harvest are marked by ceremonies performed with some reference to the growth and the preservation of the crops. Likewise drought, pestilence, and other strange irregular phenomena of nature occasion the performance of ceremonials. As pointed out by Prof. Crawley, the religion of the savage begins and ends with the affirmation and consecration of life.

In life and preservation of life therefore consists the religion of the savage. What is true of the religion of the savage is true of all religions wherever they are found for the simple reason that constitutes the essence of religion. It is true that in the present day society with its theological refinements this essence of religion has become hidden from view and is even forgotten. But that life and the preservation of life constitute the essence of religion even in the present day society is beyond question. This is well illustrated by Prof. Crawley, when speaking of the religious life of man in the present day society he says how:

“man’s religion does not enter into his professional or social hours, his scientific or artistic moments; practically its chief claims are settled on one day in the week from which ordinary worldly concerns are excluded. In fact, his life is in two parts; but the moiety with which religion is concerned is the elemental. Serious thinking on ultimate questions of life and death is, roughly speaking, the essence of his Sabbath; add to this the habit of prayer, the giving of thanks at meals, and the subconscious feeling that birth and death, continuation and marriage are rightly solemnized by religion, while business and pleasure may possibly be consecrated, but only metaphorically or by an overflow of religious feeling.”

Students of the origin and history of religion when they began their study of the Savage society became so much absorbed in the magic, the tabu and totem and the rites and ceremonies connected therewith they found in the Savage society that they not only overlooked the social processes of the savage as the primary content of religion but they failed even to appreciate the proper function of magic and other supernatural processes. This was a great mistake and has cost all concerned in religion very dearly. For it is responsible for the grave misconception about religion which prevails today among most people. Nothing can be a greater error than to explain religion as having arisen in magic or being concerned only in magic for magic sake. It is true that Savage society practises magic, believes in tabu and worships the totem. But it is wrong to suppose that these constitute the religion or form the source of religion. To take such a view is to elevate what is incidental to the position of the principal. The principal thing in the religion of the savage are the elemental facts of human existence such as life, death, birth, marriage, etc., magic, tabu and totem are not the ends. They are only the means. The end is life and the preservation of life. Magic, tabu, etc. are resorted to by the Savage society not for their own sake but to conserve life and to exercise evil influence from doing harm to life. Why should such occasions as harvest and famine be accompanied by religious ceremonies ? Why are magic, tabu and totem of such importance to the savage ? The only answer is that they all affect the preservation of life. The process of life and its preservation form the main purpose. Life and preservation of life is the core and centre of the religion of the Savage society. That today God has taken the place of magic, does not alter the fact that God’s place in religion is only as a means for the consecration of social life.

The point to which it is necessary to draw particular attention and to which the foregoing discussion lends full support is that it is an error to look upon religion as a matter which is individual, private and personal. Indeed as will be seen from what follows, religion becomes a source of positive mischief if not danger when it remains individual, private and personal. Equally mistaken is the view that religion is the flowering of special religious instinct inherent in the nature of the individual. The correct view is that religion like language is social for the reason that either is essential for social life and the individual has to have it because without it he cannot participate in the life of the society.

If religion is social in the sense that it primarily concerns society, it would be natural to ask what is the purpose and function of religion. The best statement regarding the purpose of religion which I have come across is that of Prof. Charles A Ellwood. According to him:

“religion projects the essential values of human personality and of human society into the universe as a whole. It inevitably arises as soon as man tries to take valuing attitude toward his universe, no matter how small and mean that universe may appear to him. Like all the distinctive things in human, social and mental life, it of course, rests upon the higher intellectual powers of man. Man is the only religious animal, because through his powers of abstract thought and reasoning, he alone is self-conscious in the full sense of that term. Hence he alone is able to project his values into the universe and finds necessity of so doing. Given, in other words, the intellectual powers of man, the mind at once seeks to universalise its values as well as its ideas. Just as rationalizing processes give man a world of universal ideas, so religious processes give man a world of universal values. The religious processes are, indeed, nothing but the rationalizing processes at work upon man’s impulses and emotions rather than upon his precepts. What the reason does for ideas, religion does, then, for the feelings. It universalizes them; and in universalizing them, it brings them into harmony with the whole of reality.”

Religion emphasizes, universalizes social values and brings them to the mind of the individual who is required to recognize them in all his acts in order that he may function as an approved member of the society. But the purpose of religion is more than this. It spiritualizes them. As pointed out by Prof. Ellwood :

“Now these mental and social values, with which religion deals, men call ‘spiritual’. It is something which emphasizes as we may say, spiritual values, that is, the values connected especially with the personal and social life. It projects these values, as we have seen, into the universal reality. It gives man a social and moral conception of the universe, rather than a merely mechanical one as a theatre of the play of blind, purposeless forces. While religion is not primarily animistic philosophy, as has often been said, nevertheless it does project mind, spirit, life, into all things. Even the most primitive religion did this; for in ‘primitive dynamism’ there was a feeling of the psychic, in such concepts as mana or manitou. They were closely connected with persons and proceeded from person, or things which were viewed in an essentially personal way. Religion, therefore, is a belief in the reality of spiritual values, and projects them, as we have said, into the whole universe. All religion—even so-called atheistic religions—emphasizes the spiritual, believes in its dominance, and looks to its ultimate triumph.”

The function of religion in society is equally clear. According to Prof. Ellwood the function of religion:

“is to act as an agency of social control, that is, of the group controlling the life of the individual, for what is believed to be the good of the larger life of the group. Very early, as we have seen, any beliefs and practices which gave expression to personal feelings or values of which the group did not approve were branded as ‘black magic’ or baleful superstitions; and if this had not been done it is evident that the unity of the life of the group might have become seriously impaired. Thus the almost necessarily social character of religion stands revealed. We cannot have such a thing as purely personal or individual religion which is not at the same time social. For we live a social life and the welfare of the group is, after all, the chief matter of concern.”

Dealing with the same question in another place, he says :

“the function of religion is the same as the function of Law and Government. It is a means by which society exercises its control over the conduct of the individual in order to maintain the social order. It may not be used consciously as a method of social control over the individual. Nonetheless the fact is that religion acts as a means of social control. As compared to religion, Government and Law are relatively inadequate means of social control. The control through law and order does not go deep enough to secure the stability of the social order. The religious sanction, on account of its being supernatural has been on the other hand the most effective means of social control, far more effective than law and Government have been or can be. Without the support of religion, law and Government are bound to remain a very inadequate means of social control. Religion is the most powerful force of social gravitation without which it would be impossible to hold the social order in its orbit.”

The foregoing discussion, although it was undertaken to show that religion is a social fact, that religion has a specific social purpose and a definite social function it was intended to prove that it was only proper that a person if he was required to accept a religion should have the right to ask how well it has served the purposes which belong to religion. This is the reason why Lord Balfour was justified in putting some very straight-questions to the positivists before he could accept Positivism to be superior to Christianity. He asked in quite trenchent language.

“what has (positivism) to say to the more obscure multitude who are absorbed, and well nigh overwhelmed, in the constant struggle with daily needs and narrow cares; who have but little leisure or inclination to consider the precise role they are called on to play in the great drama of ‘humanity’ and who might in any case be puzzled to discover its interest or its importance ? Can it assure them that there is no human being so insignificant as not to be of infinite worth in the eyes of Him who created the Heavens, or so feeble but that his action may have consequences of infinite moment long after this material system shall have crumbled into nothingness ? Does it offer consolation to those who are bereaved, strength to the weak, forgiveness to the sinful, rest to those who are weary and heavy laden ?”

The Untouchables can very well ask the protagonists of Hinduism the very questions which Lord Balfour asked the Positivists. Nay the Untouchables can ask many more. They can ask: Does Hinduism recognize their worth as human beings ? Does it stand for their equality ? Does it extend to them the benefit of liberty ? Does it at least help to forge the bond of fraternity between them and the Hindus ? Does it teach the Hindus that the Untouchables are their kindred ? Does it say to the Hindus it is a sin to treat the Untouchables as being neither man nor beast ? Does it tell the Hindus to be righteous to the Untouchables ? Does it preach to the Hindus to be just and humane to them ? Does it inculcate upon the Hindus the virtue of being friendly to them ? Does it tell the Hindus to love them, to respect them and to do them no wrong. In fine, does Hinduism universalize the value of life without distinction ?

No Hindu can dare to give an affirmative answer to any of these questions ? On the contrary the wrongs to which the Untouchables are subjected by the Hindus are acts which are sanctioned by the Hindu religion. They are done in the name of Hinduism and are justified in the name of Hinduism. The spirit and tradition which makes lawful the lawlessness of the Hindus towards the Untouchables is founded and supported by the teachings of Hinduism. How can the Hindus ask the Untouchables accept Hinduism and stay in Hinduism ? Why should the Untouchables adhere to Hinduism which is solely responsible for their degradation ? How can the Untouchables stay in Hinduism ? Untouchability is the lowest depth to which the degradation of a human being can be carried. To be poor is bad but not so bad as to be an Untouchable. The poor can be proud. The Untouchable cannot be. To be reckoned low is bad but it is not so bad as to be an Untouchable. The low can rise above his status. An Untouchable cannot. To be suffering is bad but not so bad as to be an Untouchable. They shall some day be comforted. An Untouchable cannot hope for this. To have to be meek is bad but it is not so bad as to be an Untouchable. The meek if they do not inherit the earth may at least be strong. The Untouchables cannot hope for that.

In Hinduism there is no hope for the Untouchables. But this is not the only reason why the Untouchables wish to quit Hinduism. There is another reason which makes it imperative for them to quit Hinduism. Untouchability is a part of Hinduism. Even those who for the sake of posing as enlightened reformers deny that untouchability is part of Hinduism are to observe untouchability. For a Hindu to believe in Hinduism does not matter. It enhances his sense of superiority by the reason of this consciousness that there are millions of Untouchables below him. But what does it mean for an Untouchable to say that he believes in Hinduism ? It means that he accepts that he is an Untouchable and that he is an Untouchable is the result of Divine dispensation. For Hinduism is divine dispensation. An Untouchable may not cut the throat of a Hindu. But he cannot be expected to give an admission that he is an Untouchable and rightly so. Which Untouchable is there with soul so dead as to give such an admission by adhering to Hinduism. That Hinduism is inconsistent with the self-respect and honour of the Untouchables is the strongest ground which justifies the conversion of the Untouchables to another and nobler faith.

The opponents of conversion are determined not to be satisfied even if the logic of conversion was irrefutable. They will insist upon asking further questions. There is one question which they are always eager to ask largely because they think it is formidable and unanswerable; what will the Untouchables gain materially by changing their faith ? The question is not at all formidable. It is simple to answer. It is not the intention of the Untouchables to make conversion an opportunity for economic gain. The Untouchables it is true will not gain wealth by conversion. This is however no loss because while they remain as Hindus they are doomed to be poor. Politically the Untouchables will lose the political rights that are given to the Untouchables. This is, however, no real loss. Because they will be entitled to the benefit of the political rights reserved for the community which they would join through conversion. Politically there is neither gain nor loss. Socially, the Untouchables will gain absolutely and immensely because by conversion the Untouchables will be members of a community whose religion has universalized and equalized all values of life. Such a blessing is unthinkable for them while they are in the Hindu fold. The answer is complete. But by reason of its brevity it is not likely to give satisfaction to the opponents of conversion. The Untouchables need three things. First thing they need is to end their social isolation. The second thing they need is to end their inferiority complex. Will conversion meet their needs ? The opponents of conversion have a feeling that the supporters of conversion have no case. That is why they keep on raising questions. The case in favour of conversion is stronger than the strongest case. Only one does wish to spend long arguments to prove what is so obvious. But since it is necessary to put an end to all doubt, I am prepared to pursue the matter. Let me take each point separately.

How can they end their social isolation ? The one and the only way to end their social isolation is for the Untouchables to establish kinship with and get themselves incorporated into another community which is free from the spirit of caste. The answer is quite simple and yet not many will readily accept its validity. The reason is, very few people realize the value and significance of kinship. Nevertheless its value and significance are very great. Kinship and what it implies has been described by Prof. Robertson Smith in the following terms :

“A kin was a group of persons whose lives were so bound up together, in what must be called a physical unity, that they could be treated as parts of one common life. The members of one kindred looked on themselves as one living whole, a single animated mass of blood, flesh and bones, of which no member could be touched without all the members suffering.”

The matter can be looked at from the point of view both of the individual as well as from that of the group. From the point of the group, kinship calls for a feeling that one is first and foremost a member of the group and not merely an individual. From the point of view of the individual, the advantages of his kinship with the group are no less and no different than those which accrue to a member of the family by reason of his membership of the family. Family life is characterized by parental tenderness. As pointed out by Prof. McDougall :

“From this emotion (parental tenderness) and its impulse to cherish and protect, spring generosity, gratitude, love, pity, true benevolence, and altruistic conduct of every kind; in it they have their main and absolutely essential root, without which they would not be.”

Community as distinguished from society is only an enlarged family. As such it is characterised by all the virtues which are found in a family and which have been so well described by Prof. McDougall. Inside the community there is no discrimination among those who are recognized as kindred bound by kinship. The community recognizes that every one within it is entitled to all the rights equally with others. As Professors Dewey and Tufts have pointed out :

“A State may allow a citizen of another country to own land, to sue in its courts, and will usually give him a certain amount of protection, but the first-named rights are apt to be limited, and it is only a few years since Chief Justice Taney’s dictum stated the existing legal theory of the United States to be that the Negro ‘had no rights which the white man was bound to respect’. Even where legal theory does not recognize race or other distinctions, it is often hard in practice for an alien to get justice. In primitive clan or family groups this principle is in full force. Justice is a privilege which falls to a man as belonging to some group—not otherwise. The member of the clan or the household or the village community has a claim, but the Stranger has nothing standing. It may be treated kindly, as a guest, but he cannot demand ‘justice’ at the hands of any group but his own. In this conception of rights within the group we have the prototype of modern civil law. The dealing of clan with clan is a matter of war or negotiation, not of law; and the clanless man is an ‘outlaw’ in fact as well as in name.”

Kinship makes the community take responsibility for vindicating the wrong done to a member. Blood-flood which objectively appears to be a savage method of avenging a wrong done to a member is subjectively speaking a manifestation of sympathetic resentment by the members of the community for a wrong done to their fellow. This sympathetic resentment is a compound of tender emotion and anger such as those which issue out of parental tenderness when it comes face to face with a wrong done to a child. It is kinship which generates, this sympathetic resentment, this compound of tender emotion and anger. This is by no means a small value to an individual. In the words of Prof. McDougall :

“This intimate alliance between tender emotion and anger is of great importance for the social life of man, and the right understanding of it is fundamental for a true theory of the moral sentiments; for the anger evoked in this way is the germ of all moral indignation and on moral indignation justice and the greater part of public law are in the main founded.”

It is kinship which generates generosity and invokes its moral indignation which is necessary to redress a wrong. Kinship is the will to enlist the support of the kindred community to meet the tyrannies and oppressions by the Hindus which today the Untouchables have to bear single-handed and alone. Kinship with another community is the best insurance which the Untouchable can effect against Hindu tyranny and Hindu oppression.

Anyone who takes into account the foregoing exposition of what kinship means and does, should have no difficulty in accepting the proposition that to end their isolation the Untouchables must join another community which does not recognise caste.

Kinship is the antithesis of isolation. For the Untouchables to establish kinship with another community is merely another name for ending their present state of isolation. Their isolation will never end so long as they remain Hindus. As Hindus, their isolation hits them from front as well as from behind. Notwithstanding their being Hindus, they are isolated from the Muslims and the Christians because as Hindus they are aliens to all—Hindus as well as Non-Hindus. This isolation can end only in one way and in no other way. That way is for the Untouchables to join some non-Hindu community and thereby become its kith and kin.

That this is not a meaningless move will be admitted by all those who know the disadvantages of isolation and the advantages of kinship. What are the consequences of isolation ? Isolation means social segregation, social humiliation, social discrimination and social injustice. Isolation means denial of protection, denial of justice, denial of opportunity. Isolation means want of sympathy, want of fellowship and want of consideration. Nay, isolation means positive hatred and antipathy from the Hindus. By having kinship with other community on the other hand, the Untouchables will have within that community equal position, equal protection and equal justice, will be able to draw upon its sympathy, its good-will.

This I venture to say is a complete answer to the question raised by the opponents. It shows what the Untouchables can gain by conversion. It is however desirable to carry the matter further and dispose of another question which has not been raised so far by the opponents of conversion but may be raised. The question is : why is conversion necessary to establish kinship ?

The answer to this question will reveal itself if it is borne in mind that there is a difference between a community and a society and between kinship and citizenship.

A community in the strict sense of the word is a body of kindred. A society is a collection of many communities or of different bodies of kindreds. The bond which holds a community together is called kinship while the bond which holds a society together is called citizenship.

The means of acquiring citizenship in a society are quite different from the means of acquiring kinship in a community. Citizenship is acquired by what is called naturalization. The condition precedent for citizenship is the acceptance of political allegiance to the State. The conditions precedent for acquiring kinship are quite different. At one stage in evolution of man the condition precedent for adoption into the kindred was unity of blood. For the kindred is a body of persons who conceive themselves as spring from one ancestor and as having in their veins one blood. It does not matter whether each group has actually and in fact spring from a single ancestor. As a matter of fact, a group did admit a stranger into the kindred though he did not spring from the same ancestor. It is interesting to note that there was a rule that if a stranger intermarried with a group for seven generations, he became a member of the kindred. The point is that, fiction though it be, admission into the kindred required as a condition precedent unity of blood.

At a later stage of Man’s Evolution, common religion in place of unity of blood became a condition precedent to kinship. In this connection it is necessary to bear in mind the important fact pointed out by Prof. Robertson Smith that in a community the social body is made not of men only, but of gods and men and therefore any stranger who wants to enter a community and forge the bond of kinship can do so only by accepting the God or Gods of the community. The Statement in the Old Testament such as those of Naomi to Ruth saying : “Thy sister is gone back into her people and unto her gods” and Ruth’s reply “Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God” or the calling of the Mobites the sons and daughters of Chemosh are all evidences which show that the bond of kinship in a community is the consequence of their allegiance to a common religion. Without common religion there can be no kinship.

Where people are waiting to find faults in the argument in favour of conversion it is better to leave no ground for fault-finders to create doubt or misunderstanding. It might therefore be well to explain how and in what manner religion is able to forge the bond of kinship. The answer is simple. It does it through eating and drinking together.1 The Hindus in defending their caste system ridicule the plea for inter-dining. They ask : What is there in inter-dining ? The answer from a sociological point of view is that is everything in it. Kinship is a social covenant of brotherhood. Like all convenants it required to be signed, sealed and delivered before it can become binding. The mode of signing, sealing and delivery is the mode prescribed by religion and that mode is the participation in a sacrificial meal. As said by Prof. Smith :

“What is the ultimate nature of the fellowship which is constituted or declared when men eat and drink together ? In our complicated society fellowship has many types and many degrees; men may be united by bonds of duty and honour for certain purposes, and stand quite apart in all other things. Even in ancient times—for example, in the Old Testament—we find the sacrament of a common meal introduced to seal engagements of various kinds. But in every case the engagement is absolute and inviolable; it constitutes what in the language of ethics is called a duty of perfect obligation. Now in the most primitive society there is only one kind of fellowship which is absolute and inviolable. To the primitive man all other, men fall under two classes, those to whom his life is sacred and those to whom it is not sacred. The former are his fellows; the latter are strangers and potential foemen, with whom it is absurd to think of forming any inviolable tie unless they are first brought into the circle within which each man’s life is sacred to all his comrades.”

If for the Untouchables mere citizenship is not enough to put an end to their isolation and the troubles which ensue therefrom, if kinship is the only cure then there is no other way except to embrace the religion of the community whose kinship they seek.

The argument so far advanced was directed to show how conversion can end the problem of the isolation of the Untouchables. There remain two other questions to be considered. One is, will conversion remove their inferiority complex ? One cannot of course dogmatize. But one can have no hesitation in answering the question in the affirmative. The inferiority complex of the Untouchables is the result of their isolation, discrimination and the unfriendliness of the social environment. It is these which have created a feeling of helplessness which are responsible for the inferiority complex which cost him the power of self-assertion.

Can religion alter this psychology of the Untouchables? The psychologists are of opinion that religion can effect this cure provided it is a religion of the right type; provided that the religion approaches the individual not as a degraded worthless outcastes but as a fellow human being; provided religion gives him an atmosphere in which he will find that there are possibilities for feeling himself the equal of every other human being there is no reason why conversion to such a religion by the Untouchables should not remove their age-long pessimism which is responsible for their inferiority complex. As pointed out by Prof. Ellwood :

“Religion is primarily a valuing attitude, universalizing the will and the emotions, rather than the ideas of man. It thus harmonizes men, on the side of will and emotion, with his world. Hence, it is the fee of pessimism and despair. It encourages hope, and gives confidence in the battle of life, to the savage as well as to the civilized man. It does so, as we have said, because it braces vital feeling; and psychologists tell us that the reason why it braces vital feeling is because it is an adaptive process in which all of the lower centres of life are brought to reinforce the higher centres. The universalization of values means, in other words, in psycho- physical terms, that the lower nerve centres pour their energies into the higher nerve centres, thus harmonizing and bringing to a maximum of vital efficiency life on its inner side. It is thus that religion taps new levels of energy, for meeting the crisis of life, while at the same time it brings about a deeper harmony between the inner and the outer.”

Will conversion raise the general social status of the Untouchables ? It is difficult to see how there can be two opinions on this question.

The oft-quoted answer given by Shakespeare to the question what is in a name hardly shows sufficient understanding of the problem of a name. A rose called by another name would smell as sweet would be true if names served no purpose and if people instead of depending upon names took the trouble of examining each case and formed their opinions and attitudes about it on the basis of their examination. Unfortunately, names serve a very important purpose. They play a great part in social economy. Names are symbols. Each name represents association of certain ideas and notions about a certain object. It is a label. From the label people know what it is. It saves them the trouble of examining each case individually and determine for themselves whether the ideas and notions commonly associated with the object are true. People in society have to deal with so many objects that it would be impossible for them to examine each case. They must go by the name that is why all advertisers are keen in finding a good name. If the name is not attractive the article does not go down with the people.

The name ‘Untouchable’ is a bad name. It repels, forbids, and stinks. The social attitude of the Hindu towards the Untouchable is determined by the very name ‘Untouchable’. There is a fixed attitude towards ‘Untouchables’ which is determined by the stink which is imbedded in the name ‘Untouchable’. People have no mind to go into the individual merits of each Untouchable no matter how meritorious he is. All untouchables realize this. There is a general attempt to call themselves by some name other than the ‘Untouchables’. The Chamars call themselves Ravidas or Jatavas. The Doms call themselves Shilpakars. The Pariahs call themselves Adi-Dravidas, the Madigas call themselves Arundhatyas, the Mahars call themselves Chokhamela or Somavamshi and the Bhangis call themselves Balmikis. All of them if away from their localities would call themselves Christians.

The Untouchables know that if they call themselves Untouchables they will at once draw the Hindu out and expose themselves to his wrath and his prejudice. That is why they give themselves other names which may be likened to the process of undergoing protective discolouration.

It is not seldom that this discolouration completely fails to serve its purpose. For to be a Hindu is for Hindus not an ultimate social category. The ultimate social category is caste, nay sub-caste if there is a sub-caste. When the Hindus meet ‘May I know who are you’ is a question sure to be asked. To this question ‘I am a Hindu’ will not be a satisfactory answer. It will certainly not be accepted as a final answer. The inquiry is bound to be further pursued. The answer ‘Hindu’ is bound to be followed by another; ‘What caste ?’. The answer to that is bound to be followed by question : “What sub-caste ?” It is only when the questioner reaches the ultimate social category which is either caste or sub-caste that he will stop his questionings.

The Untouchable who adopts the new name is a protective discolouration finds that the new name does not help and that in the course of relentless questionings he is, so to say, run down to earth and made to disclose that he is an Untouchable. The concealment makes him the victim of greater anger than his original voluntary disclosure would have done.

From this discussion two things are clear. One is that the low status of the Untouchables is bound upon with a stinking name. Unless the name is changed there is no possibility of a rise in their social status. The other is that a change of name within Hinduism will not do. The Hindu will not fail to penetrate through such a name and make the Untouchable and confer himself as an Untouchable.

The name matters and matters a great deal. For, the name can make a revolution in the status of the Untouchables. But the name must be the name of a community outside Hinduism and beyond its power of spoliation and degradation. Such name can be the property of the Untouchable only if they undergo religious conversion. A conversion by change of name within Hinduism is a clandestine conversion which can be of no avail.

This discussion on conversion may appear to be somewhat airy. It is bound to be so. It cannot become material unless it is known which religion the Untouchables choose to accept. For what particular advantage would flow from conversion would depend upon the religion selected and the social position of the followers of that religion. One religion may give them all the three benefits, another only two and a third may result in conferring upon them only one of the advantages of conversion. What religion the Untouchables should choose is not the subject matter of this Chapter. The subject matter of this Chapter is whether conversion can solve the problem of untouchability. The answer to that qustion is emphatically in the affirmative.

The force of the argument, of course, rests on a view of religion which is somewhat different from the ordinary view according to which religion is concerned with man’s relation to God and all that it means. According to this view, religion exists not for the saving of souls but for the preservation of society and the welfare of the individual. It is only those who accept the former view of religion that find it difficult to understand how conversion can solve the problem of untouchability. Those who accept the view of religion adopted in this Chapter will have no difficulty in accepting the soundness of the conclusion.

#Ambedkar #caste #religion #conversion #hinduism

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the-odd-job · 3 years

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Up in Flames chapter 20 - Rain (Ashes Part 2)

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Major Character Death, Chose Not to Use Category: Other Fandom: Transformers Relationships: Megatron/Sunstreaker, Megatron/Sideswipe, Sideswipe & Sunstreaker Characters: Sunstreaker, Megatron, Sideswipe, Flatline, Nova Storm Additional Tags: Dubcon, Mechpreg, Sticky Words: 6728

( Previous )

“I’m sending you to Cybertron.”

Just like that. There was no warning, no ‘would you like to’ (hah, as if there was ever going to be that), just the announcement that hey, they’d be doing this now, congrats!

Sideswipe’s optics snapped open from where he had been basking in the pleasant afterglow of—for once—getting some of Megatron’s attention on himself. The tyrant’s frame was all but scorching to the touch where Sideswipe was stretched along his side and partly on top of him, but damn, the mech had stamina.

“What?!” Sunstreaker snarled from Megatron’s other side, and Sideswipe could feel his desire to push himself upright to glare at the warlord all proper like.

But after a testing twitch, the languid heaviness in his limbs made him think better of it. See, first Megatron had fragged Sunstreaker absolutely strutless in some… Whatever reunion thing this was.

And then, like he hadn’t just exerted himself to the pits and back and then again, Megatron had decided to fuck Sideswipe too.

Sideswipe had no complaints about that. Neither did Sunstreaker for that matter, because his brother had been really unsure if he could’ve survived any more of Megatron’s attentions. It probably wasn’t an unexpected spell of kindness or mercy on Megatron’s part, but likely more something along the lines of not wanting to completely burn out the carrier of his sparkling.

While apparently still having some frustrations of his own left, because man, Megatron had gone hard on him. Again, Sideswipe didn’t have a single complaint about that and it was some spectacular interfacing–

But he was a little dented and sore right now.

At least it looked like Megatron had finally worked through whatever aimless aggression he’d had left after beating some Autobots. That had only taken all of two days, too.

Of course, then they got to the end, and suddenly they were being told they were going to get sent to another planet, where there definitely wouldn’t be interfacing like this because it didn’t exactly sound like Megatron intended to come along. He was kind of needed on Earth, anyway.

“You’re sending us to that dead chunk of metal?” Sunstreaker continued in a furious hiss.

It wasn’t about the deadness of the planet to him, though. “The slag are we supposed to be doing there anyway?”

It wasn’t about lack of things to do either, really.

“You will pay Shockwave’s compound a visit,” Megatron growled right back. It didn’t take a genius to surmise what had prompted this, based on that.

“This is about the Autobots, right?” Sideswipe asked, and although tired, he was nowhere near the shape Sunstreaker was in, so he leveraged himself partly up to look at the warlord. Megatron’s optics were as baleful as ever, but Sideswipe wasn’t a coward any more than his brother was. “You don’t want them to get their hands on the sparklet?”

Megatron inclined his helm at him. “There is a far lower threat of Autobots on Cybertron.” And the Prime wasn’t there. Who was, at this point? Wreckers were probably off-world. Ultra Magnus? Elita and his troops? Maybe a few others.

And who in their right mind would try to bring down Shockwave in his lair with soldiers that limited? The rumored security Shockwave maintained was enough to dent even the strongest of optimists.

For the safety of the sparkling, Megatron seemed intent on sending them into the middle of that. Which… Well, it would at least remove the sparkling from the Autobots’ reach pretty effectively. Even if they tried to follow, they’d still need to go toe to toe with Shockwave and his drones and countless automatic defenses, not to mention the Seekers and other Decepticons stationed with him, before they could get to Sunstreaker and the sparkling. That was practically suicide.

So, if the goal was to keep the sparkling from falling prey to the Autobots’ ill intent, it was a solid plan.

Didn’t make a certain someone any more happy with it.

At the same time… Sunstreaker’s engine was revving like mad, and not from nice things like arousal or the like, but even he couldn’t deny Earth wasn’t the safest place. The Autobots had gotten into the Victory before. Jazz had already paid them a visit. They were just lucky the Autobots hadn’t seemed so hell bent on ‘freeing’ Sunstreaker at the time as they had become in further practice—after Ratchet’s visit, really. Them and their pissing need to confirm for themselves what influence Sunstreaker was under, when Ratchet refused to share.

And then thinking Sunstreaker was under enough influence to warrant killing the sparkling if nothing else worked. Or, slag, would they have tried to bring the protocols offline anyway, and then just reprogrammed him if that fucked him up beyond the point of no return?

No point thinking about all that now, though. It hadn’t come to pass.

But it could, still.

Unless they were on Cybertron, under Shockwave’s ever so loving care.

That was a bit of an issue though. “You think he won’t put us on a dissection table for being split-spark?” Sunstreaker asked sharply, engine still snarling and his vocalizer not much better.

Megatron glared at him. “Shockwave knows better than to go against my orders. You’re free to consent to his research, but he’s not permitted to touch you without your permission—nor is he allowed to harm the sparkling in any way, indirectly or not.”

Seemed… Reasonable enough, considering this was Megatron they were talking about. Shockwave was one of the most dangerous Cybertronians currently in existence, and not just because he was an amoral and emotion free intellectual, but because he was just as formidable physically.

Except there wasn’t much question that Megatron could and would kick his aft if Shockwave stepped out of line. It was only logical to obey, lest you bring harm and potential death upon yourself. Right?

Frag, he had no idea what went around in Shockwave’s helm. Could they trust this situation, or would they end up getting their spark all cut up in the name of Shockwave’s hunt for ever increasing knowledge?

Did they have any choice in taking the risk?

They didn’t, not really. Megatron wanted it, and what Megatron wanted, Megatron got.

Sunstreaker was still growling. “What happened to contributing to the sparkling, anyway?”

Megatron barely missed a beat before growling back an entirely aggravated, “I think I have contributed an adequate amount, wouldn’t you say?”

That… Yeah. Sunstreaker took a moment to consider the fact there was a very sizable pool under his aft, and more still leaking right out of him, and that probably wasn’t going to change anytime if you took into account the amount of transfluid Megatron had pumped into him.

Sunstreaker grumbled something under his breath. Sideswipe snickered before pushing himself fully to sitting–

Only to flop across Megatron’s chassis, folding his arms in front himself and resting his chin on them.

As casual as Sideswipe made the act, he was prepared for painful retaliation. This had to be testing some boundaries.

Nothing ever came, though. Megatron’s look of surprise quickly melted into a single raised optical ridge that only earned a grin from the red twin.

Boundaries successfully pushed!

Sunstreaker had dedicated himself to sulking and didn’t even look their way. He was an ass like that.

“When?” Sideswipe asked, tilting his helm a bit. Megatron didn’t need to ask what he was referring to, of course. He wasn’t an idiot.

“As soon as your brother gathers the strength to move.”

Sunstreaker quieted for a second, and Sideswipe’s laughter rang at the same moment as his twin broke his silence to the tune of some very angry cussing.

Way to offend a mech there, Megs.

But after a bit more rest and some much needed fueling, Sunstreaker managed to drag himself from the berth. He was still a barely contained ball of violence, but equipped with far too great awareness of his shaking limbs that completely robbed him of any honest chance at expressing his feelings through anything except waspish words.

Sideswipe ignored that. The ire wasn’t really aimed at him anyway. Megatron got most of it, but anyone else they happened across wasn’t really spared either.

Megatron mostly ignored it too. Sometimes Sunstreaker got growled responses, a few times he got claws, but really there wasn’t near as much reaction as there could have been. That only seemed to make Sunstreaker even more annoyed, the hissy fit he was busy throwing spiraling to rival anything they’d seen Starscream dish out.

That fact wasn’t lost to the Decepticons, either. There were muted snickers, whispered words comparing Megatron’s two (apparently primary) flings, and talk about how he had to have a type right there.

But all of it was spoken where Megatron couldn’t fully hear it, lest he be given a reason to administer some punishment for lack of respect or whatever.

After they’d fetched their few possessions from their quarters, it was honestly an excessive amount of Decepticons that were ordered to accompany them to the space bridge. There was no question that Megatron was very serious about not giving the Autobots a chance to successfully do a damn thing, even assuming they’d had the time to recover even somewhat.

Which they probably hadn’t, if Sideswipe’s assessment of how many injuries they’d all acquired was even close to the truth. They had held their own fine outside the Ark last he’d seen, but of course then the Seekers had basically carpet bombed the lot of them, and if that didn’t hurt he didn’t know what did.

But so they made it to the site of the space bridge without an incident, and the twins unboarded the best space taxi, Astrotrain. “How did you even have everything set up so quick?” Sideswipe asked from Megatron as he trotted up to the big mech overseeing the space bridge’s activation.

Megatron glanced at him. “Soundwave arranged everything. On my order.”

Ah. So while they were busy having the lights fragged out of them by Megatron, he’d apparently had the time to let his third know about his plans.

And of course Soundwave would get things done. What had he even gotten up to? Informed Shockwave, arranged the Decepticons on this end to escort duty, set up the activation of the bridge itself, and made sure the Decepticons on Cybertron’s end were prepared to receive them and bring them to Shockwave’s compound? Something like that, probably.

There were no Autobots to be seen even by the time the bridge portal opened. “Enter,” Megatron ordered them with a careless gesture in the direction of the portal as it whirled to life.

Sunstreaker growled. “I hate you.” A digit was jabbed at Megatron’s chassis, but despite that, his brother marched towards the bridge. Sideswipe followed after throwing a quick, “See ya!” at the warlord.

“Have a safe trip!” Skywarp wished them with a wave. Sideswipe waved back with a grin.

Meanwhile Starscream hissed, “Good riddance,” right where Sunstreaker was sure to hear it. The SIC became the target of one intense glower, but Sunstreaker didn’t do more than flip the bird at him before stopping at that last step that would have taken him into the portal, waiting until Sideswipe was next to him.

Then they took it together, the scenery of the Earth changing into the green and blue vortex of the bridge’s interior. “Wonder if we’ll get to see any of Shockwave’s experiments,” Sideswipe mused as they walked along the tunnel.

“Just as long as we don’t become those experiments,” Sunstreaker grunted back at him.

Sideswipe laughed. “Come on, have a little faith! I don’t think Shockwave’s dumb enough to go against Megs.”

His brother didn’t have time to make more than a noncommittal noise before they cleared the bridge and appeared on the other side. The dead, dark, cold landscape of Cybertron greeted them—familiar metal beneath their pedes, but no light beyond that the stars cast from the sky that had by now cleared of its old pollution that had once covered nearly all of the planet.

Their home, now nearly inhabitable.

More Decepticons were waiting for them, all of them Seekers. One of them stepped forward to greet them, and that was one they could recognize—if only because his trine had rained acid across Cybertron, much to the chagrin of the Autobots. “I’m Nova Storm,” he introduced himself. One of the Rainmakers, no doubt about that. “Are you okay to drive the way to the compound? It’s not far and the roads should be in passable condition.”

After being carted everywhere via a shuttle, driving sounded pretty nice. Plus they could enjoy the scenery a bit more.

What there was to enjoy. Broken landscape, old marks of explosions, jutting, torn structures as far as the eye could see.

But it was Cybertron.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Sideswipe confirmed. “Just show the way.”

They got a nod in return before all of the Seekers transformed and took to the air on one gesture from Nova Storm. The twins transformed as well and raced after the fliers as they zipped forward, following each other in pairs of two. Even had the roads not been in bad enough condition that they couldn’t go full speed and had to swerve around obstacles on irregular intervals, they would never have kept up with Seekers, but the fliers took that into account. They flew slower than they could, and although still considerably faster than the twins, the pair at the front would loop back around to become the last pair, and repeat so there was always a line of Seekers right ahead of them, pointing the way.

The roads, while far from perfect, were indeed in passable condition the whole way. They didn’t need to transform again before they’d already reached the doors of the compound—and that after driving by all manner of defenses for a considerable time already—the Seekers transforming as well and dropping down around them.

The doors opened to the fliers and the brothers followed them inside. Things were… Honestly you couldn’t even call it lit with how dim everything was, but not like lights were strictly necessary for their species anyway.

It was clear, though, that the fact Cybertron hadn’t orbited a star in a long time was severely affecting life on it. There weren’t many ways to generate energy anymore, especially with the core of the planet almost as dead as the surface.

Sideswipe wondered if the planet would eventually cool enough to make life for their species upon it completely impossible, at least on the surface. The lower decks had always gotten progressively hotter the lower you went. Maybe that still held true to an extent and the few mecha left on the planet could escape beneath the surface even if the temperature dropped too much.

“How many mecha are left on Cybertron, anyway?” Sideswipe asked as they walked the dark but spacious hallways deeper and deeper into the compound—and lower by a level or two, too.

“There are a few more Decepticon bases scattered around,” Nova Storm responded, just vague enough that their question was answered without providing any important intel to them. “Some Autobots are still holed up in Iacon, too, but we don’t have the resources to smoke them out. Same holds true for them too, though.”

“So a stalemate, like on Earth?”

“The whole war everywhere is that right now, I’m pretty sure.”

Something needed to give on one side or the other for things to change.

...Something had given. They’d left the Autobots and stripped their forces on Earth of some of their strongest frontliners.

But was that a change big enough?

What about if they officially changed sides? Sunstreaker wanted to fight the Autobots after what they’d done to him, and Sideswipe couldn’t say he had much against the idea either, not after that whole disaster.

Would that be enough to tip the scales? Could he give their spark and its two frames that much credit?

But that was a moot point right now. They weren’t even on Earth anymore, and wouldn’t be for who knew how long, and it didn’t sound like there was much fighting going on on Cybertron. So, no battles for them to participate in, for either side.

Just a war neither side could win.

“These will be your quarters,” Nova Storm said as they came to one door along a corridor of doors that Sideswipe assumed held other rooms for other occupants. He physically opened the one he pointed out. Most of the Seekers that had accompanied them dispersed at that—only Nova Storm and one other stayed. “I hope you’ll find them adequate. We left a few datapads with some entertainment on them for you, but with how long on energy we are, you probably had more to do on Earth. Sorry about that.”

“Can we spar? With each other, I mean,” Sideswipe asked as he looked inside the room right after Sunstreaker. It was furnished as sparsely as the quarters they’d had on the Victory, but these were over twice as big.

But obviously space wasn’t such an issue on planetside as it was on a spaceship.

“Yeah, sure. Hold on…” Nova Storm went quiet for a moment before they were pinged with a map of the compound—or that of a part of it, anyway. Many portions were clearly omitted, so Sideswipe suspected what they’d gotten was just the area they were allowed to explore, and the rest was off limits.

Shockwave was the secretive sort, anyway.

“You should find your way around with that. We have pretty strict ratios so I can’t suggest burning through too much fuel, though.”

“We’ll be careful,” Sideswipe promised. So… Cybertron might’ve been the safer location for the sparkling, but it looked like life was pretty difficult on it. Not that that should’ve come as much of a surprise. Even the Autobots had known that the Decepticons sent most of the energon they acquired back to Cybertron for a reason.

“Also,” their Seeker friend continued, his optics glowing in the dark as he looked between them, “Flatline has offered to edit your armors to be a little more… Well, no offense, but you look pretty Autobot. He thought it might be a good welcome present.”

That was… Awful nice and thoughtful. Sideswipe blinked in surprise. “Really? He could do that?”

“Yeah, sure. We have the raw materials for it. If you want to?”

Did they want to? Sideswipe locked optics with Sunstreaker and they… Considered the offer. The suggestion was pretty clear: make them look more Decepticon.

It was weird how almost everyone already treated them like they belonged to the faction, despite the fact they had never officially switched sides, only ditched the Autobots. Technically, then, they were Neutrals right now, and that was a dirty word.

But maybe it being a dirty word was why no one called them that. Plus the fact Sunstreaker was, you know, carrying Megatron’s offspring, which in the optics of most probably tied them to the warlord rather effectively.

Not that that was untrue, it was just that… Would it last after the sparkling’s separation? It was like everyone assumed it would.

And in all honesty they were slowly leaning towards the it would themselves.

And they knew they looked the part of an Autobot, had for a long time. They had almost no sharp edges on them, no claws, no fangs. None of the things they’d used to have before joining the ‘Bots, just on account of being Kaonite, and Kaonite gladiators at that.

If they could have that back…

It was tempting. No, not just tempting. They wanted it.

Here they had an opportunity for it.

So why not take it?

Sideswipe nodded at Sunstreaker, then turned his attention to Nova Storm and nodded again. “Honestly, that would be great. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“It’s not. He’s itching to have something to do, anyway,” Nova Storm said with a lopsided grin. “There’s not too much of a need for a medic right now.” And Shockwave probably didn’t involve him in all of his research and experiments, if any at all. He wasn’t sure about that, but hey, if they could give the poor mech something to do, while benefiting from it themselves?

Hell yeah.

“Then we’d love to,” Sideswipe confirmed again, nodding more firmly this time. Nova Storm nodded back at him, before pinging them again, this time with a location on the maps they’d just gotten. “His repair bay is there. Go see him whenever you’re ready and he’ll set you up with everything he needs from you.”

“Sweet. I think we’ll go do that right now.” Not like they had anything better to do. Besides, it’d be nice to have it done ASAP, and just… Get to enjoy their frames again, instead of feeling like they were missing something.

Because they were missing something. They were missing quite a few things, actually.

“Sure. And here’s my comm. Give me a call if you need anything,” Nova Storm said in parting before he took his leave down the corridor with just a wave at them, the other Seeker leaving with him—but also after giving them a wave.

Seriously. They were getting treated like they were already Decepticons in all kinds of ways.

He couldn’t really object to it, though. It was honestly pretty nice.

They closed the door to their room and set down the hallway into the opposite direction, following the map they had until they reached a set of double doors. There wasn’t any more light here than anywhere else, and these doors didn’t just slide out of the way automatically either.

Could they just walk in? Sideswipe wasn’t sure about that, so he gave the door a knock instead.

They only waited for some seconds before the door was opened by a mech from the other side. “Flatline?” Sideswipe asked for confirmation’s sake.

“Ah, you must be Sideswipe and Sunstreaker,” the mech said, looking between them. “Here about your frame edits?”

Straight to the point, huh? “Yeah. We’d kinda like to take you up on that offer.”

“Stellar! Come on in and let’s talk.”

They did. The repair bay was near pitch black like the rest of the place, but that continued to not be a hindrance with all of the other sensors and scanners in their race’s use, that didn’t require one speck of light to work.

Flatline led them to the back of the room with a desk and some chairs. “Alright, what I’ll obviously need from you are designs for what you’d like to look like. I challenge you to come up with something I couldn’t do.”

Sideswipe laughed in good humor at that. “I think we’d just like to return to our pre-Autobot builds, and I don’t think those designs are too out there. Sorry.”

The medic and whatever frame editor he was on the side sighed in a totally exaggerated manner. “Oh well, I’ll just have to live with that. Do you have any pictures of your old designs I could build schematics based on?”

Sunstreaker nodded and fetched his drawing pad from his subspace. Its screen came to life as about the only source of light in the room aside from their optics, and his brother quickly navigated to his drawings of them, as they’d been.

Could they really be that again..?

“Oh, that’s thorough,” Flatline noted, his optics brightening in what looked like excitement. “Did you draw these yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“Impressive! And these are what you want? No changes?”

Sideswipe considered it for a moment, looking at the images Sunstreaker had drawn, and his brother was doing the same. Now was their chance to change whatever they wanted to, huh? But had they ever really had complaints about their old looks? As much as they had been slaves at the time they’d gotten their final upgrades, they had still had some word in what they wanted to look like, as long as it fit the right aesthetic—and standards of attractiveness, but who was going to complain about that?

They’d liked their looks before the Autobots had edited them to look less dangerous, less Kaonite, less Decepticon.

“No changes,” Sunstreaker answered after they’d come to their decision, pushing the drawing pad a little closer to Flatline, who nodded and pulled out a large datapad of his own. He plugged it into Sunstreaker’s pad and deftly downloaded all of the pictures of their old frames as references for himself, as well as the schematics of their frames that Sunstreaker pointed out to him. There wasn’t much to do without those… But maybe Sunstreaker had kept them with his other images in hopes of something like this happening.

Even if they’d never before had any actual hope of it.

“Alright then. Now, if you’d take your armor off,” the medic instructed when he unplugged his datapad and inspected its newly acquired contents, “Hmm… All of it off, it looks like. Your downgrade really was thorough…”

“You don’t say,” Sunstreaker snorted.

Flatline shook his helm in disapproval, probably at whoever had stripped them of all of their edges, and not at Sunstreaker. “There’s a private room behind that door if you don’t want to go walk through the halls on your protoforms back to your quarters. It’s safe within the compound, but understandably that can feel a bit disconcerting.”

You don’t say. Sideswipe made a face. This was the downside of complete edits, you had to be all… Defenseless while they were done. Protoforms just weren’t meant to be uncovered for anything else except planetary entries in its alt-mode. Nothing else. And yeah, for gladiators and warriors that was especially going to have every single instinct screaming at them.

This wasn’t going to be fun.

But the results? Those would be worth it.

“If it’s cool we’d like to stay out of sight,” Sideswipe said as he began to unlock his armor and remove it.

All of it. Literally all of it. Flatline nodded at him, but was courteous enough to not watch the process that Sunstreaker joined in on after just a small delay. Off came their chestplates, their collars, their pauldrons, rerebraces, gauntlets, gloves, waist cinches, groin pieces, cuisses, poleyns, greaves, sabatons...

Helmets and faceplates.

Everything.

They didn’t stop before every piece of armor was stripped off of their frames and nothing but bare protoform was left on every inch of them, their patchy exoskeletons the only thing left to protect their internals.

But then they were done. “I’ll take good care of your armors, fear not,” Flatline promised, then gestured at the door he’d pointed out, “This should take me a few groons. The door’s open, but you can lock it behind yourselves.”

“‘Kay,” was all Sideswipe said before they scurried off to the private room, their protoforms still in the middle of returning to their armorless configurations. That was always a weird feeling, to kind of just… Deflate, when there wasn’t armor to fit into.

They did lock the door behind themselves. There was a berth in the small room, some surfaces for medical equipment that wasn’t there right now, a few chairs. About as bare as their quarters, but that just meant they couldn’t mess with anything they weren’t supposed to mess with.

How disappointing.

They both hopped onto the berth, though neither laid down. Sideswipe poked at some of the exposed machinery in his thigh; Sunstreak inspected his digits and the little joints left to open air.

Pits, their protoforms weren’t fragile, they knew that much, but they still felt mighty fragile right now.

At least there wasn’t anyone to see them. Thank Primus for small mercies.

But after the novelty of seeing all of their protoform died off, in settled the boredom. Sunstreaker merely pulled out his drawing pad again and set to sketching, but he was always better equipped to handle not having anything to do. Sideswipe watched for a while as the shape of Megatron slowly materialized onto the canvas, but that wasn’t going to entertain him forever. In the end he pulled out a datapad he had some Earth games on, plugged into it, and set to virtually shoot things.

Considerably safer than the real thing, but nowhere near as exciting, either. But eh, beggars couldn’t be choosers. It’d do.

The image of Megatron was almost done and Sideswipe was just about bored of his game when there was a knock on the door a moment before Flatline peeked in. Sideswipe checked his chronometer, and for as many groons as it had taken, it still felt like Flatline had been pretty quick about it.

Not that he was entirely sure how long stuff like this usually took. “I’m done. If you’d come to fit everything on so I can see if anything needs any tweaking.”

“That was fast,” Sideswipe commented despite how much he wasn’t sure if it was fast. They both dropped off the berth and followed after the medic as he retreated from the door back to the repair bay.

“Thank you,” Flatline said, so maybe it really was faster than the average since he wasn’t corrected on the point. Huh.

The lights of the room brightened enough to grant some color vision on top of other sensor readings. Sunstreaker’s engine rumbled in pleasure the moment they set their optics on their retrofitted armor pieces. Everything was missing paint on so many spots, but that was their problem to fix and didn’t come as a surprise.

What was more important was that nothing looked anything like the shape they’d left it to Flatline’s care in. They could still recognize it as theirs, but now it really… It really was theirs. Gone were the rounded edges on everything, replaced by sharp corners and wicked spines and spikes.

And in the midst of it all, Sideswipe could spy the armor of his servos, and the claws that now decorated the tip of every digit—long, sturdy, sharp, dangerous, with not only a menacing point made to pierce, but also a long cutting edge at the bottom.

Just as they were in the Pits. They were made to hurt, rend, damage.

His spark felt fit to vibrate straight out of its chamber and the sparkling sharing the space in Sunstreaker’s core was paying very close attention to the excitement that was bouncing between their two halves. Sunstreaker tried not to show anything on the outside, but his optics were still too bright for normalcy.

Sideswipe didn’t even try to hide it and rushed straight for the armor bits that belonged to him, hovering his servos over them in awe.

Frag.

“This is so awesome,” he breathed as he began to pick the pieces up in reverse order from what he’d removed them in, fitting them in place one by one. They locked in place and merged with his systems, and he could feel the paintless extensions integrate with him—all the edges he barely remembered the feeling of.

Now he could re-experience all of it, and pits, it felt good. He couldn’t get the pieces on fast enough, and Sunstreaker was little better as he fit his own armor over his protoform. The sparkling didn’t understand yet. It had never had a physical body. It didn’t know what it felt like to love your body.

But it would, eventually. For now Sunstreaker could only soothe its confusion, make it focus on just the emotion, and not so much on the source of it.

They weren’t sure if they’d ever redressed themselves this fast, and Flatline took clear pleasure in their eagerness. He directed them to a mirror as soon as they were done, and Sideswipe drank in the sight just as hungrily as Sunstreaker, even if he was the less vain half of them.

They looked like they were supposed to look. That was the root of it—the rightness. They looked every bit as savage as they had once upon a time, like they could go to the Pits right now and fit right in.

Well, aside from the fact they were missing a good portion of their paint jobs.

“Does anything feel off?” Flatline asked as he stared at the both of them critically. They turned in front of the mirror, staring at themselves, staring at each other, drinking in the sight—feeling it.

“My right shoulder feels kinda funny?” Sideswipe eventually said, rotating said shoulder.

“Let me have a look.” The medic wasted no time poking, prodding and tugging at the area, humming to himself. “It’s a bit loose. If you’d take that off so I can tighten it a bit.”

Sideswipe did so, handing the armor back to Flatline and watching as he returned to his workbench.

It barely took any time at all before he was back already. “Try now.”

Now they were talking. Sideswipe grinned at the mirror. “Fits perfect. You’ve got some mad skills on you, mech.”

Flatline huffed. “Thank you,” he said again, turning to Sunstreaker and asking about the fit of his armor too.

Sunstreaker pointed out his thigh and knee, and those came off for some tweaking as well—and again, once they were returned, they fit just like they were supposed to.

Sideswipe still couldn’t stop looking at himself, looking at Sunstreaker, looking at them… He would’ve said there were no traces of Autobot on them anymore, but that wasn’t true.

Flatline had preserved their insignias—scratched out insignias. They still stood on in the middle of their chestplates, a reminder of what they had been—what they weren’t anymore. Megatron’s work right there for everyone to see.

But they didn’t have Decepticon insignias on them either.

Sideswipe mused about that silently for a moment before deciding to just bite the bullet and ask about it.

“Lord Megatron hasn’t said anything about giving you your insignias,” came Flatline’s answer, provided with a shrug. And again there was that, talking as if they already were Decepticons—although maybe in a bit more unofficial capacity than most, if they weren’t given ‘their’ insignias.

Yet. Would that happen at some point too, if they opted to fight for Megatron? Would they become officially Decepticons? Officially enemies of their former faction, instead of just being suspended between the two sides, nominally Neutrals?

Except there wasn’t really being true Neutral when carrying the sparkling of one side’s fragging leader.

And… There was one other Autobot thing about them. “I have your fangs and other dental pieces too,” Flatline, and Sideswipe couldn’t contain his squee.

“Those too?” His voice was way too high, wasn’t it? But slaggit, his fangs.

Flatline just grinned at him. “Of course. They were part of your designs. Would you lay down for me so I can fit them in?”

That wasn’t even a thing worth asking. Sideswipe all but flew to the nearest berth and laid down on it, the medic only fetching the pieces of denta before coming to him. He didn’t need to ask Sideswipe to open his mouth, or for him to unlock his denta. Flatline’s field was amused, but he didn’t say anything as he simply removed the denta that had been fitted in to replace his rightful ones too long ago.

Flatline did the opposite, slotting in the flat razors first, and then, four fangs far too long and sharp—just how Sideswipe liked them. He was way too eager to lock those in once the medic said he was ready, and barely waited for permission to get up before he had already returned to the mirror, this time to inspect his mouth.

Most of his denta didn’t look dangerous, never had, and weren’t meant to. You couldn’t see the cutting edges they were.

But his canines. Pits, those looked menacing in all kinds of ways, and sank into the slots in his mouth always made just for them, except for the longest time there had been nothing to fit into those spaces.

Now there was.

He almost missed it when Sunstreaker laid down too. “And four triple-canines for you,” Flatline said, brandishing those dental pieces before repeating the process on Sunstreaker’s mouth—sans the razor bits. Sunstreaker had never had those, nor did he want them.

He enjoyed chewing a bit too much.

Sideswipe would happily give up his ability to chew a damn thing if it meant his bite was absolutely devastating. Maybe he’d even remember how to not snip his own glossa clean off!

And just like that, they both had their fangs back. Sunstreaker joined him in admiring their new-old dental configurations.

Slag. This was almost too good to be true. They were so un-Autobot, again.

It felt damn good.

Flatline watched them take everything in for a while before he spoke up, kind of but not really interrupting them. “If everything fits as it should, Sunstreaker, I’d like to check you and the sparkling.”

Sunstreaker didn’t put up a fight about that, just nodded and laid down on the berth Flatline pointed out. The medic plugged in and Sideswipe stood to the side—still sorta maybe admiring every bit of himself—as he worked through Sunstreaker’s systems, inspecting things, running tests, taking readings. Predictably Sunstreaker was asked to bare his spark sooner rather than later, too, which he did without complaint, though a little tensely.

But Flatline didn’t do anything untoward, just scanned the sparkling and performed a visual inspection on the little thing that honestly wasn’t so little anymore. “It looks to be growing healthy and strong. Congratulations for that. Nothing seems off; the frame’s coding is progressing as it should, too. You’ll have a hearty sparkling in your hands soon enough.”

“How soon?” Sunstreaker asked, closing his chestplates back up when Flatline signaled he had no more interest in his spark or internals.

Flatline paused for a moment, presumably looking at the readings he’d just taken before answering, “Three deca-cycles, I’d say.”

That was… Not the longest time, but still pretty long to spend in a base that had barely any energy in its use. Even now the lights were dimming back down, making optics next to useless. Sunstreaker nodded all the same. Not like they had much of a choice, and really, if they wanted the sparkling to stay safe, then this… Was the best option.

They’d just have to deal.

“How do we know it’s starting to separate?” Sideswipe asked as Sunstreaker sat back up and swung his legs to the floor.

Flatline laughed lightly. “Oh, trust me, you’ll know. It’ll hurt like the pit. Spark pain, you know how intense that can be.”

“...Nice,” Sideswipe commented. Sunstreaker dragged a servo down his face, not really… Looking forward to that. As familiar as they were with pain, physical pain couldn’t even hold a candle to spark pain. And sure, they suffered from chronic spark pain—yaaaay split-spark—but somehow they doubted even that was going to compare to having the sparkling sever the bond to its carrier. Bondmates didn’t have a habit of surviving their partner’s death.

And they were going to experience the breaking of a bond, even if it wasn’t that of mates.

So, that couldn’t be fun!

“Right,” Sunstreaker sighed all the same, already resigning himself to that future, what with it being completely inevitable.

“Just let me know once it starts,” Flatline instructed them. “I’d prefer to supervise the process, especially considering you’re only half-spark. One of split-spark twins getting ignited isn’t very well documented.”

“Will do,” Sideswipe promised.

There was a beat of silence before the medic nodded. “You’re free to go, if you have no other questions. If something comes up at any point, you know who to call. I hope.”

Sideswipe snickered. “You, I’m guessing. Thanks. And extra thanks for the retrofits, they’re slagging fantastic.”

“You’re very welcome. Now go enjoy them and add some paint on there. If you need more light, you can request a room to be brightened a bit for a limited duration.”

“Noted,” Sunstreaker said, pushing himself off the berth entirely and leading the way to the repair bay’s doors. Sideswipe followed, giving Flatline a wave and another quick, “Thanks!” before they headed back for their quarters.

Time to do some painting, and then figure out how the pit they were going to kill time while staying here.

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#transformers #maccadam #sunstreaker #sideswipe #megatron #nova storm #flatline #fic #2021 #ashes #up in flames

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