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🟩6/6 Chapters | 5,467 words
🩷M/M | Spamtenna
🔔Back in business AU, Spamton centric, Narration and Spamton is fighting the narrative, Angst, Humor, Fluff, Fic art
Have you heard the story about the angel in the email? Rumor has it that he suddenly made it big in TV World before suddenly disappearing. Not many people know how or why, and even less people are asking. But I thought that you might want to know.
[YOU'RE NOT REALLY SELLING THIS, ARE YOU? THAT'S WHY YOU AREN'T THE GREATEST SALESMAN AROUND HERE. YOU SHOULD CARE ABOUT THE ANGEL BECAUSE HE IS A TRAGIC HERO, ONE THAT FOUGHT AGAINST ALL ODDS AND NEVER GAVE UP, DESPITE BEING BEATEN AND BETRAYED BY THE PEOPLE HE THOUGHT HE COULD TRUST THE MOST. NEVER TRUST A TV. EVER.]
It seems like he really wants to tell you about the angel in the email. Maybe you should give him a chance?
Read the whole thing below 👇 (or on AO3)
Chapter 1: The Call
Have you heard the story about the angel in the email?
…
…No?
Well, sit down and get comfortable! This one might be a little long…
…and maybe also a little sad... but hey! It’s a —
[SAD? THERE’S NOTHING TO BE SAD ABOUT.]
[IT’S ALL IN THE PAST. WHAT’S THE USE OF CRYING OVER THAT?]
Hm…Yes, I suppose that’s true!
It doesn’t have to be a sad story. Not if there is a happy ending waiting at the end of the line.
…
Did this story have an ending?
[YOU FORGOT TO GIVE IT AN ENDING?]
Either that, or it hasn’t been written yet.
[...HOW MUCH DO YOU ACTUALLY REMEMBER?]
As much as I’m allowed to.
[WELL I REMEMBER THE ANGEL.]
[HE WAS STUNNING. A YOUNG, BRIGHT AND CHARISMATIC SALESMAN. A SMILE THAT COULD SWEETEN ANY DEAL. HIS CAREER SHOT THROUGH THE ROOF, PIERCED THE SKY AND LANDED WITH THE STARS. FREEDOM CARRIED HIM UNDER HIS WINGS AND THE WIND SAILED THROUGH HIS BEAUTIFUL WHITE HAIR — ]
Beautiful white hair?
I thought it had always looked like a greasy oil slick.
[WHAT!!!???]
Hmm…
This might be a bit more difficult than anticipated.
[NO SHIT.]
Maybe it’ll be easier if we do it together.
Help me remember.
[SURE.]
Then let’s remember the story about the angel in the email.
The angel in the email. His coat was white as fresh December snow and his smile lit up the perpetual dark nights in the city.
He had been declared the runt of the litter for his height, but what he lacked in stature he made up for with the wings that carried him from door to door, greeting everyone with a big smile as he presented his goods and services. An honest, hard working delivery man, quick on his feet — only one click away!
“We don’t want your garbage.”
Door after door slammed shut in his face.
He wasn’t going to let his lack of talent bring him down. His feet did not touch the ground, he would keep sailing the streets until he could make a sale. “Just one sale.” He’d pray, “A single one, how much could it be to ask for?”
He’d pray every night for the day to come. The dream seemed so far away. A wish too big to be granted.
But he couldn’t give up hope, no, he refused to let it die.
The up-and-coming salesman knew he had to get his foot through the door and show everyone what he was made for. If they said they didn’t want his garbage, then he’d have to make them want the junk from the email anyway.
At any cost. He’d pay the price.
Ring.
He felt it in his soul that he was made for something great. Something Big.
Ring. Ring.
All he needed was a single chance and he’d make it back in tenfold. No one would believe him, seeing his track record. But those naysayers were stuck in the past, why focus on that when he knew that his future was full of blue skies and warm sunlight! He was born to be a salesman, it was written in the stained glass in his church. All he needed was to find the perfect match to strike a deal with.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
[YOU HAVE TO ANSWER THE CALL.]
All he needed was to answer the call.
Chapter 2: The Climb
It all started with a single phone call.
A couple of words of advice. Some words of encouragement. Whispers of secrets that made it all make sense. The mysterious benefactor on the phone promised him success, as long as he adhered to their deal, and they made good on their promise.
It didn’t take long until he made his first sale, and his tenth, and hundredth. An overnight success. It dawned on him that the dream suddenly wasn’t just a dream, but his reality. The angel was climbing the corporate ladder higher than his wings had ever taken him.
Or would ever take him.
His products were flying off the shelves and he didn’t even have the time to deliver them all anymore. It wasn’t going to cut it. He needed to think big, grow and expand his strategies. Nothing a phone call couldn’t fix.
Each call just kept giving him more and more. Bigger and bigger. Soon the big shot became too big for even the city he grew up in. He had no real choice but to leave it behind and jump worlds if he wanted to keep growing.
Wherever he went he felt his importance present. Finally, he was sought after. Businesses asked him to strike a deal with them. Big honchos wanted to buy his ads, car deals — they even wanted to put him on TV! How could he refuse? It was almost too good to be true.
Oh, the sweet, naive angel. Finally, he was adored. He got to play in the big leagues, and these players did not play fair.
[THAT DAMN TV. NEVER TRUST WHAT YOU SEE ON TV. IT’S ALL FAKE!!!]
[YOU THINK YOU KNOW WHERE YOU HAVE THEM ONLY FOR THEM TO TURN AROUND AND SCREW YOU OVER AT THE LAST POSSIBLE SECOND. SOONER BUT MUCH RATHER LATER THEY’LL SHOW THEIR TRUE COLORS AND BY THAT POINT IT IS ALREADY TOO LATE. NEVER TRUST A TV IN YOUR LIFE. NEVER LET A TV INTO YOUR LIFE. IF YOU HAVE ONE AT HOME, THROW IT OUT RIGHT NOW IF YOU KNOW WHAT’S TRULY GOOD FOR YOU. SERIOUSLY.]
He had taken a few more deals than he could manage.
“It’s fine!” the angel convinced himself, he was only a phone call away from fixing everything.
It was going to take a lot more than just one phone call to repair the damage. “Investing in the TV world? Well of course TV sells ad space! So it is — it is not a dying medium, it is just —” he tried to save face with his benefactor.
Each time the phone rang, it made his joints stiffen. Talking on the phone for too long made his jaw ache. The stress of following his benefactor's orders word for word made his vision grow blurry. He hadn’t been able to sprout his wings in a long while.
His dream had become a cage. A beautiful, golden gilded cage surrounded by every luxury he could possibly want. He saw through it though. Hands white-knuckling the bars as he watched what little freedom he had slip out of his grasp, the more he reached for it the larger the distance grew.
It was suffocating. He opened a window to breathe, only to realize that he had forgotten how.
The angel was in dire need of rescue. He had to escape. The window was wide open. Even if he had forgotten how to breathe maybe, just maybe, he would remember how to fly if he got out now. It sounded reasonable in his mind, clouded with panic and fear. He had to get out. Now! Before it was too late. Before —
Ring. Ring. Ring.
The phoneline reeled him back in.
"It's fine,” the angel talked himself down from the grip on the windowsill. “It’s fine I…I should probably take that.”
This wasn’t the road he was meant to take. The smell of burnt rubber kept his mind sharp as he sped down the streets. The night lights were barren compared to his home, yet he couldn’t escape the ads for the show he was promoting, flashing in neon signs as he drove by. The cungadero never slowed for any speed bumps, flying over them with grace. The feeling brought sweet memories to the tip of his tongue.
A small taste of his old dream, it was all he needed to keep going. To keep looking. He had to find it, someway somehow — there had to be another exit to freedom.
[...THERE MIGHT HAVE BEEN ANOTHER WAY.]
Of course. There had to be. Why else would he stay in the TV world in the first place?
[...]
Like a moth to a flame, the light from the silver screen had caught his attention.
[HE SAW ME FIRST.]
One look from the Lord of Screens could get his heart racing even faster than his nightrides. And the looks they gave each other were plentiful – more than either of them cared to admit. The smiles and laughter shared made his heart soar, in a way the angel didn’t think was possible to achieve anymore. But his partner had opened the window —
[ — AND LOCKED ALL OTHER DOORS.]
Daring him to feel the winds of freedom —
[ — WHILE CUTTING THE BREAKS ON HIS CAR.]
Another path had opened up. It was exhilarating.
[IT WAS TERRIFYING.]
Upon his beckoning, he answered the call. The angel took a leap of faith into the [CLUTCHES] of the [BUSINESS PARTNER] he [[HYPERLINK BLOCKED]].
…
…Do you want to tell the rest of the story?
[YES. STARTING NOW BY SKIPPING OVER THIS PART TO GET TO THE IMPORTANT BIT.]
[THE ANGEL WAS TRICKED. HE WAS TRICKED INTO BELIEVING HE HAD A CHOICE, THAT HIS HEART WAS ALLOWED TO DECIDE. SO THE ANGEL PROMISED HIS CO-STAR HEAVEN. THE CONTRACT WAS ALREADY WRITTEN. THEY JUST HAD TO SEAL THE DEAL.]
He promised him heaven.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
And put them through hell.
Chapter 3: The Fall
A contract was written for a long term partnership. They'd share everything, in sickness and in health. Until death do them part. It was closer to him than he'd like to admit.
Darkness hung over his head like the Sword of Damocles. It coated his once shining white hair with an oily black color. One that seeped into his feathery coat and turned the back of his wings black as well. A reminder that the transformation was already set in motion, that he could not escape the tar pit he'd thrown himself into.
Before anything could be signed the angel gifted his partner a matching set of golden rings and a blue egg as a promise of his commitment. His hope. His love.
The angel wielded his love as a weapon, convinced that his wings would still be able to carry them all the way to heaven. That it wasn't yet too late.
Two stars that shined the brightest together, their dream of a better future couldn’t end like this. Their light would find a way through the darkness and guide them to a different path. Escaping the fate the voice on the phone had laid out for him.
It has to work, the angel convinced himself. He was desperate.
While he tried to outrun the inevitable he never stopped to think, “When I come knocking on heaven's door, who will answer me?”
The angel had forgotten his place in the world, though he was gifted wings he was not made of heavenly light but a mere shadow of its image. Not an equal, but a server in the dark. And yet, he claimed to wield power that wasn’t rightfully his. He offered to give his partner a ticket out, not out of kindness but out of arrogance. A big shot that assumed he could call the shots and lost in his hubris had forgotten his own helplessness. Only the words of The Prophecy could dictate what happened next, trying to fight it was futile.
The angel was arrogant, insolent, faulty, flawed, weak.
For his transgressions he would be punished.
The sales stopped. Contracts canceled. The flow of money dried up. Any access his fame and fortunes had given him was suddenly stripped away. Going from a Big Shot to a Nobody overnight. He’d get kicked out. Pushed down the stairs. Laughed at. Yelled at. Beat down. Dragged off. Burned. Blinded. Ignored. Forgotten.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, forgive me. I’m sorry.” The angel tried in vain to repent. But no one came to answer his pleads and prayers, he had already closed that door himself. He would not be forgiven.
Deep down he knew this could happen — that it would happen. That one day everyone would wake up and see right through his confident smile and realize that he didn’t belong here. Of course it would happen now. How stupid of him to think he wouldn’t trip before the finish line and screw everything up. Because that’s how it always has been and always will be.
[WHY?]
Why?
[IT DIDN’T HAVE TO HAPPEN THIS WAY. THINGS WERE GOING GREAT. IT SHOULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED. IT WAS JUST ONE MISTAKE. ONE. IT'S NOT FAIR. SHOULDN'T EVERYONE AFFORD TO MAKE JUST ONE MISTAKE IN LIFE?]
It was more than one.
Ring.
Or two.
Ring. Ring.
Or three.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Or four, five, six, seven —
[OKAY. FINE, I GET IT.]
…
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.
[...]
Aren’t you going to answer that?
[I DON’T WANT TO.]
You don’t have a choice.
The ringing never stopped. Wherever he went it echoed at the back of his mind to the point of insanity. He had to find it. He had to find the phone. If he could have one more chance to plead his case and ask for forgiveness then maybe everything could go back to how it was. Yes, he just had to find it. The ringing phone.
He ran around Cyber City in the middle of the night in search of the phone. He didn’t find the receiver but he found the cord, dangling from above attached to nothing. It just went up, up, up into the sky. He began climbing without hesitation. He climbed and climbed, passing buildings, sky scrapers and the whole city sky line, but it just kept going. His hands were numb and sore but he couldn’t let go, he had to keep climbing towards heaven.
The sky shifted in hue, the pitch black night started to grow ever so slightly a fainter shade of light blue. He was so close, he could almost feel the sun's light grace his face. Blissfully, he reached out, freedom at the tip of his fingers.
His line was cut.
The angel fell. He was plunged into darkness. His body submerged in the inky dark liquid.
Surrounded by darkness he couldn't see, breathe or think. Slowly his limbs began to stiffen. A heavy pressure pushed from every direction, holding him in place, he couldn't move. His entire body felt cramped. Then it began to shrink, folding in on itself. His wings became glued to his back, doomed to never fly again. There was no longer any way to escape.
The city he had called home had swallowed him whole. He sank deeper and deeper down. Once he had given up all hope of making it out alive he found himself through to the other side. His back finally hit rock bottom and he could breathe once more.
It smelled like garbage.
The angel had completed his fall from grace. From the very top to down in the dumps. He was unrecognizable, cold and alone.
Chapter 4: The Reinvention
Despite everything that had gone wrong, the fallen angel desperately clinged to hope. It was the last lifeline he had in order to survive. His hope was ever so persistent, like a cockroach it refused to die and neither did he. Swatting. Stomping. Scratching. Burning. Bludgeoning. He could take it all! He would always bounce back.
As he scoured the streets for food and scraps he hatched a new plan. Right under the Queen's nose, a giant robot was built in the basement. He would get his revenge on those who wronged him by making his comeback, bigger and better than ever. His new body was armed with weapons, ready to fight. It stood tall and strong, with his boots he’d kick down heaven’s door. The new wings he built would carry him there, far and beyond.
The fallen angel was determined that this plan would work. Oh…if only he had remembered Icarus…
[WHO GIVES A BEESWAX ABOUT THAT SAD SPONGE ICARUS. THERE’S NOTHING COMPARABLE BETWEEN HIM AND THE ANGEL. HE DIDN’T HAVE THE PERFECT BATTLE READY BODY. HE DIDN’T HAVE THE POWER OF NEO. HE DIDN’T FLAP HARD ENOUGH.]
All he was missing was a little help. He found it in the form of a fellow soul trapped in its own cage. A shaky alliance formed, and he was given a second chance at life. The transformation was completed. He never learned his lesson.
The wires grabbed a hold of him, constricting his every moment. Pushed and pulled him like nothing but a puppet on strings. He could not escape his fate, no matter how hard he tried. The puppet cried out in agony, wishing so desperately to be rescued.
Three heroes of legend heeded his call. They began to cut his strings, one at a time, until nothing remained. Lifeless the robot fell apart, scraps and wires separated to reveal the insides. From the wreckage the angel emerged anew, his wings no longer trapped and a spark of lucidity returned after the last string snapped.
He thanked his heroes, now in debt for their rescue he offered his help on their journey. They all looked at him with pity and then kindly rejected his offer. He didn’t understand. He thought the cage would understand him, but they refused to look him in the eyes. The salesman couldn’t repay his debt, not now, maybe never. Instead, he was given more debt as they brought him to their castle where he was offered nothing but unfiltered generosity.
“This is too much!” The angel protested, “Too much. Too much. Too much!” But his words fell on deaf ears as he traded his dumpster for a fancy room in the castle.
Was this freedom? It didn’t feel like it. It was empty like the long-stretching corridors. It felt cold like stone. Unearned. He had been rescued, but he wasn’t free. The castle became another cage to him, locked up once more, now on his own accord.
[HOW DID THE ANGEL TRY TO ESCAPE THIS TIME?]
He didn’t.
[HE GAVE UP?]
No. He only waited.
[WAITED FOR WHAT?]
Waited for his heroes to return.
[...]
…
Was it minutes, hours, days or weeks? The angel couldn't tell the difference. But when his heroes finally did return he was in for a surprise.
"He's alive?" the angel gasped, watching what the heroes had dragged in. The Lord of Screens towered over the rest of the residents in their humble Castle Town. He stuck out like a sore thumb. The angel rubbed his eyes, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Was his mind playing tricks on him again?
No. He was really here. The fact got his heart pounding out of his chest.
[HOW DARE HE? THIS ISN'T HOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO GO. WHY DOES HE GET EVERYTHING? ALL WHILE HE MAKES IT LOOK EASY TOO, JUST TO RUB IT IN. I JUST GOT HERE. HE CAN'T WAIT 15 MINUTES BEFORE GOING TO STEAL MY SPOTLIGHT? WHAT AM I, JUST A SIDEQUEST? A COLLECTIBLE TO PUT AWAY ON THE SHELF? WHY IS HE HERE. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY — ]
He felt a weight off of his shoulder as he breathed out a sigh of relief. For the first time in a long time, his wings finally unfurled. He felt light as a feather again.
[I HATE THAT TV!]
He couldn't have been happier.
The angel floated up to his old partner, ready for a reunion that had been years in the making. He expected to be met with open arms only to put a foot in his mouth instead. Shattering his hopes, dreams and glasses with one swift kick to the head.
Something was off.
He had been kicked, scratched, burnt, stabbed and beaten before. But never had his deal makers been cracked before. Something was terribly wrong.
"Why don't you recognize me anymore?" is what he wanted to ask. Though no words left the angel as he drifted in and out of consciousness. His old partner's voice echoing in the distance as he seemingly panicked about some weird big bug, a new kind of mosquito perhaps.
His old partner was different. No longer was he wearing that striking shiny red suit from his old TV Time days, instead wearing something more muted and glooby. The only color left on him was the jarring technicolor tie.
[OF COURSE HE'S GLOOBY. HE ONLY SAYS HE'S NEVER GLOOBY BECAUSE HE IS A DIRTY, FILTHY LIAR. DON'T BELIEVE A WORD HE SAYS.]
He looked smaller too. Even when standing tall and smiling big and wide it did not look the same. It took another salesman to recognize that particular grin. The TV host wasn't hosting his prime time show anymore, as it had been canceled. What he was trying to sell was the News, repackaged in an old 8-bit format from the TeleText channels.
[NEVER BELIEVE WHAT YOU SEE ON TV. WATCHING TV IS BAD FOR YOU! ALL THAT TV DOES IS LIE, CHEAT AND STEAL.]
The angel felt a pull. Like a string had pulled him up from the ground and snapped as his feet planted themselves firmly.
"That's it!" the angel declared to no one, for he was alone, but not for long. No more wallowing, no more pity parties, if he had time to scream he had time to clean. He swept up all the broken pieces and began to form a new plan of action. He had to get back in the game. Back to business.
"If even that old piece of junk can do it, then why can't I?" he reasoned. All he had to do was roll up his sleeves and pull out all the old tricks in the book. If it's news they want then he'd sell them just the perfect story. You just have to ask the lovely and ever so charming Ms. Information back in Cyber City for the most enticing and clickworthy scoops.
Then he'd prove to them, all of them, just who the greatest salesman is.
Chapter 5: The Reunion
Darkners could not exist without the Lightners' influence. The belief that the dependence wasn't mutual would be considered naive.
In order to survive the Darkner would have to fight for their right to existence. To foster a bond with the light that brought them into this world. To make them cherish you. Want you. Love you. Need you. Trust you. Depend on you.
Fear.
Fear was a powerful tool. Either breaking the bond irreparably or make it stronger than anything else. It was a gamble worth playing to reap the best rewards.
The salesman? He was back in business.
Business was booming once more. The angel found himself reliving his big shot days as close to how he could possibly imagine it. He covered the cracks in the fantasy with expensive new suits, golden accessories and a confident smile. While his body and mind had been changed permanently, he found himself standing a little taller, talking smoother and thinking just a bit more clearly. His two-toned glasses were still broken. They served as an important reminder and he refused break his deal makers for good.
"…Spamton?"
An old voice called out to him from the other side of the cafe.
"Spamton!"
Finally, the angel was getting the recognition he deserved.
"SPAMTON!!!"
He was all the rage now, and rage is what awaited him.
The angel's old partner caught him in a bone crushing embrace. His fist kissed his face. Their reunion was loud, filled with love bites and back scratching. They wasted not a moment to make up for all that was left unsaid and undone after the faithful phone call. The old partners were left exhausted. Completely battered and bruised. The angel offered a light, a small but not insignificant peace offer, as they both rested with a smoke in hand.
The silence fell over them like a heavy blanket. They both knew that this one meeting wasn't nearly enough to make up for all the lost time. Though time appeared to be the least of their worries here in Castle Town. Being stuck here they suddenly had an abundance of it, and with it all the time in the world to try again. And again. And again.
New chances and possibilities were born. Followed closely by brand new deals and familiar partnerships. They dusted off the contract, signed with fresh ink to tie an old knot. It was finally official, they were married.
[WOW.]
It took some time, but it was bound to happen.
[SO THAT’S WHERE IT ENDS? THEY GET MARRIED AND LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER?]
Kind of…but not really.
They did file for a divorce later.
[YIKES.]
But then they also decided to re-marry.
[DOUBLE YIKES.]
On and off, it repeated in cycles. The love was there, but it couldn’t solve the angel's problems. He could pretend that he was happy with the contract until the weight of it crushed him. Another reminder of how he would never be free.
The strings of control had become indistinguishable from the strings of attachments from his relationships with his peers. As soon as one got too close, entangled in his life a bit too much as to ensnare him, his first instinct became to cut himself off. To escape.
He’d fly away only to realize that the open air he escaped to was nothing but empty and cold when far away from all the people, lights and laughter. Was that the freedom he sought? It appeared so. Predisposed to become untethered to all things around him, drifting alone in the vast space of nothingness he surrounded himself in.
Then when he became too cold, just before his wings would freeze up and have him crash back to earth he'd turn around. He'd find himself at the doorstep where the warmth he sought resided, head hanging low with shame and regret. The familiar scent of cinnamon and coffee would tickle his nose and he'd perk his head. He'd count to three, then open the door and reattach himself.
Only for the cycle to continue again, and again, and again.
[IS THAT HOW IT ENDS?]
It is the ending I know of. But it is not the definitive one.
Maybe one day, it could end differently.
[HOW?]
…I
…I don't know.
The angel would have to write that story himself.
Chapter 6: The Retelling
Spamton couldn't sleep. Tenna had drifted off to his dream land a long time ago, but Spamton wasn't so lucky. He only found himself sitting at the edge of their bed, fidgeting with his wedding ring in the dark. His mind was buzzing, eyes swimming in static.
"Angel?" The light from Tenna's screen cut through the darkness to hone in on Spamton.
Spamton didn't move, but he could hear the gentle shifting of the fabric as Tenna moved towards him. His arms wrapped around him from behind, an invitation to get back to bed but Spamton replied in silent protest. Tenna sighed, quietly asking him what's on his mind. He rested his head on top of Spamton's as he waited for an answer. The added weight slowly pushed the static out, giving way for his usual thoughts to return.
“You’re wasting your time,” Spamton explained.
“What?”
“Being here. Doing all of this…" He gestured between them. "…With me,” he elaborated.
“That can’t be true." Tenna was quick to refute it. He burrowed his nose into his hair and tightened his hold around him, afraid to let go. "How can I waste my time being with someone I love?” He planted a kiss on top of his head. “I love you, my angel.”
That's not the answer he was supposed to get. Something had to be wrong. Some kind of misunderstanding between them.
“Which part?” Spamton asked.
“What do you mean?" Tenna laughed at the question as if the answer was somehow obvious. "All of you, of course.”
“All of me?”
“Yes.”
It still didn't add up. Tenna was going off script. Or was it Spamton that hadn't gotten the memo this time? It wouldn't be the first time it felt like everyone but him was handed a script on what to do and how to do it. Not like he wanted one, they would never get his lines right anyway.
“That can’t be right,” Spamton argued. “It’s because you don’t know me.”
“I — " Tenna paused to chuckle softly. " Well, I like to think I do —”
“You think that, but you don’t."
He can't. He never let him. Because if he did, he wouldn’t have let him come back. Not for this.
The room fell silent. Tenna's grip around him didn't soften. The cold metal held him in place, it nearly became suffocating. The buzz inside his mind was back, it melded with the white noise Tenna was emitting from his screen. Steadily the static sound grew louder, and louder, until —
"So?" Tenna interrupted, nonchalantly.
The blase response pulled Spamton back to reality. "So what?" What in the Dark World did he mean by that?
"I'll learn," Tenna assured him. "I'll do it for you. Eventually I will get you, all of you," he delivered his promise with certainty, up until the last syllable where he suddenly hit a snag. His voice and confidence wavered, "Won't I?" He swallowed the question.
Tenna had kept his door open for Spamton to waltz back into his life, something he surely had to regret at this point. He was still waiting for Spamton's permission to do the same, or at the very least to remove one of his many locks on his own barricaded door. But it wasn't so simple. It wasn't just for his own sake that he couldn't let anyone in. He also couldn't let the mindbreaking secrets get out, lest he got punished or broke something or someone else. They had to be locked up in his already shattered mind, for safety. He couldn't risk ruining it all again.
"But I already told you, it's a waste of time."
"Not to me," Tenna argued. "Not if it's you."
Maybe he had already ruined Tenna. No, he can't take all credit for that. The TV was already broken from the start, he was just great at hiding the cracks from people. The silver screen always had to look presentable. Spamton knew better than anyone that covering up the cracks doesn't actually make them go away. It would be fitting then, that two broken pieces would find solace in each other.
“Fine," Spamton relented. "In the meantime, just keep pretending that you know me.”
Tenna smiled. He pulled Spamton closer and back to bed. Spamton accepted his fate as the plush toy he turned into as Tenna cuddled him, lining the side of his face with soft kisses. "I can do that," Tenna whispered.
“Good," Spamton sighed. "…It’s nice.”
The two lied tangled together. Spamton felt the rise of Tenna's chest from his artificial breathing as Tenna carded through his bristly stiff hair. They were waiting for the other to fall asleep. Spamton struggled to keep his eyes open. He really didn't want to go first. This night was far from unique. This conversation had happened before. It wasn't the first and it wouldn't be the last. Spamton recalled the times Tenna thought he had fallen asleep and the quiet sobs he'd hear before sleep finally did claim him.
Spamton forced his eyes open and Tenna was there to greet him with a gentle smile.
“How long are you going to keep me pretending?” He asked softly.
Spamton paused at the question. He gave it some thought, shifting position into something more comfortable before he felt content with where he was.
“Just a little while longer.”
It had become his go to answer for everything.
How much longer was he planning on staying in bed instead of going their separate ways to work? Just a little while longer. How much longer was it going to take until the homemade dinner he had planned was going to be finished? Just a little while longer. How much longer would it be until they would arrive at their destination and Tenna could get out of the 'dero to stretch his legs? Just a little while longer. How much longer did he have to keep his eyes closed before he could open them and see the anniversary gift he had prepared? Just a little while longer.
How much longer could they stay just like this?
How long could just a little while last?
Forever. He hoped.
---
"Hey, have you heard the story about the angel in the email?"
"No."
"No? Well, sit down and get comfortable! This one might be a little long and maybe also a little sad. But…"
"But?"
"…I don't really like how it ended. We'll make up a new ending instead, okay?"
Mentioned a few weeks ago about a fic I was writing for my AU about the angel in the email and that I was making spot art for it. It's getting close to finished so I'm sharing these ones early 🩷💛
Hello! I'm @summers-art, your local tumblrina 🩷 I've been a fan of Sonic since the adventure games on Gamecube. I may be studying at university right now but that won't stop me from joining and organizing Sonic projects online!! It's something I love doing, seeing everyone be so creative and having fun 🩷 I'm excited to put these funny colorful creatures in neat looking outfits 🩷🩷
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^ me every time I come home from work or is done with a zoom lecture for uni. It's fun though, I love that to get my teachers are talking about Marx class discourse and Butlers gender performativity and intersectionality rn
But also it is taking up all my braincells unfortunately to do much of anything else. Buuut things should be getting wrapped up in June!! Unrestrained summer fun with my drawings of the blorbos again, trust 🙏
How do you feel about the suspiciously ring shaped indent on the Tenna figurine? I was in the they were never married before crowd but now I'm actively being proved wrong
I am determined to finish my own fic of big shot era spamtenna in the cungadero but it is very stupid and awkward and the car sex kinda sucks actually. They're so dumb, what's wrong with these freaks I need them to get into an accident and explode
Man................ one of my fav artists I also follow on patreon said that his blog got terminated and now I keep sweating over if this blog will get nuked randomly one day. I mean, art is easy to repost elsewhere but I feel the need to back up all the writing and lore I've put on here... JUST IN CASE
I know a lot of people have bluesky as their mirrors and stuff but uuuughhhh I HATE THE TWITTER LOOK, it is so unfriendly to my need to yapp and write walls of text. If anything I've been thinking of post crossing to ao3, art and writing. But idk if meta posting is something that ao3 is supposed to be used for?? Like idk, is that allowed /gen
They got their blog back and all hope is not lost anymore YAAAY 🎉
I did panic archive all my posts for the AU though and also begun doing a better archiving slowly onto ellipsus. It was actually kinda fun to go back and the put stuff in a more chronological order of the story and made me realize that damn this is a pretty fully realized story, even tho it's still evolving with new ideas and prompts. There isn't really that much to retcon or inconsistencies, awesome
I ALSO GOT MY WRITING MUSE BACK, putting my fic wips on ellipsus got me rereading them and being like wtf, this is nearly finished and really good what the hell why am I sitting on this and not sharing. It was like in September I said "It's nearly finished!!" but this time I actually feel like I have the motivation to finish writing. I remembered that writing can be fun and I'm having fun doing it okay ❤️ yay ❤️
Man................ one of my fav artists I also follow on patreon said that his blog got terminated and now I keep sweating over if this blog will get nuked randomly one day. I mean, art is easy to repost elsewhere but I feel the need to back up all the writing and lore I've put on here... JUST IN CASE
I know a lot of people have bluesky as their mirrors and stuff but uuuughhhh I HATE THE TWITTER LOOK, it is so unfriendly to my need to yapp and write walls of text. If anything I've been thinking of post crossing to ao3, art and writing. But idk if meta posting is something that ao3 is supposed to be used for?? Like idk, is that allowed /gen
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Man................ one of my fav artists I also follow on patreon said that his blog got terminated and now I keep sweating over if this blog will get nuked randomly one day. I mean, art is easy to repost elsewhere but I feel the need to back up all the writing and lore I've put on here... JUST IN CASE
I know a lot of people have bluesky as their mirrors and stuff but uuuughhhh I HATE THE TWITTER LOOK, it is so unfriendly to my need to yapp and write walls of text. If anything I've been thinking of post crossing to ao3, art and writing. But idk if meta posting is something that ao3 is supposed to be used for?? Like idk, is that allowed /gen
That funky puppet body is not what it used to be but dw about it Spamton! Your loyal dog of a husband will appreciate it, get loved, idiot! Finally, the whole yaoi comic is done and under cut 👇
My dog!!! Yea he can talk, his mouth can do many great things actually. Trust me
Y'KNO, considering they can drink battery acid I think eating sharpies are probably fine. Harmless! Don't do this at home tho
This one is already 10 (technically 11) pages I had to cut it somewhere or else it go on forever- I suppose it ends like either the first or second dog comics I already made... or make up a secret third thing! That is also allowed and cool to do.
God sent me an Email one day
Attached was the most beautiful Angel I'd ever seen
I wanted to Read him
I wanted to Save him
Stashed away in my Folders for later
I really thought that
I could've saved him
To the other anon that don't want a public reply, I just wanna say thank you for the sweet words!! Made me really happy to read ❤️ dw about me, I am doing great. Joining KAJ fandom last year was like the best decision ever, it's nice to have a fandom that does stuff in my own country for once, so I can leave my computer and go meet new friends and do fun fandom things in person. I'm very lucky to have the opportunity for that!!
The world can be so so scary, especially right now with the (gestures) everything, so I do love having fandom to spark some joy in life. It can be escapism, but also a nice tool to communicate things that can be too scary to talk about if you have to center yourself in the conversation, it can be easier when it's the blorbos being used as a conduit instead.
In conclusion: world scary, but we can be brave about it together. Take my hand and find joy despite it all
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Anya is LIVE right now
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"Telling Tenna the things he wants to hear/believe by hooking him up with people that know how to install upgrades in his body with the intention of making it possible for him to get pregnant. Then crushing his dreams by having it just straight up not working anyway."
Oooo! This could play into Tenna's other insecurity if he is straight up too old of a model for the update! (am I too sadistic?)
[Referenced Post] TOO sadistic?? No such a thing as that here, torturing the favorite character is just par for the course. Now play A Human's Touch (this is on my Spamtenna playlist)
This all 100% plays into the insecurities about being an older model. You understood the assignment perfectly anon, gold star to you⭐
Considering that having a disability/multiple disabilities is like, something you can be born with but also something that can seemingly randomly happen, you will most likely develop it down the road eventually by just the process of aging. I've mentioned before being around a lot of old people, my grandma has basically done twice the work of raising me, and just last week I sat at the teachers lunch table and listened to the 70-year old women talking about her muscle inflammation that paralyzed part of her face and the others hip replacement. That stuff is just going to happen, it's normal. But having a beauty industry selling us the idea of being thin, light skinned and having super healthy bodies is the best way to live life makes those changes seem devastating, world ending even!! But it shouldn't be. Not in my mind at least, because it's normal. Sucks to deal with surely, but it doesn't make you like uniquely fucked up or a failure, you know?
Part of me is like, man why didn't I design my AU Tenna with the cracked screen or bandaged/permanently bent antenna? Too late now. But in hindsight I think it plays well into his need to put on a perfect looking front, getting those cosmetic changes to hide the cracks. Jokes on him though, that won't make the arthritis magically disappear.
I think it'd be an interesting way for Tenna to explore his free will (with all the pregnancy kink stuff) if he maybe could have a child with someone else (maybe with another robot or something) who is also open to playing picture perfect family with him. Would he choose Spamton and the life they built for themselves or the life he always imagined himself having?
Also the angst potential from Spamton's pov. Like will he run if Tenna even thinks about it a second too long? (What about their children?)
I really opened the floodgates on the blog when talking about pregnancy for the AU and this ask is gave me so much to think about I had to let it simmer for days. THERE IS JUST SO MUCH, like in the story yes but also the meta parts of it, like as a woman with a uterus and having family and friends around getting pregnant I've just been thinking more about it. What the deal is with pregnancy, what about is appealing or not, all the real world complications+implications and what is brought in or ignored when written into fiction.
It's funny mentioning "Playing the perfect family" because like, the first thing I pictured without thinking too deeply about pregnancy kinks is absolutely some cottage core, picture-perfect-family-life fantasy about being a pregnant housewife, white picket fence style. But like, me personally, would find literally 0 comfort in a fantasy like that. It just spirals into some psychological horror shit for me instead, oops.
Relating it back to the AU Spamtenna: Tenna is definitely deep in that fantasy. He is also fixated on the past, wishing to recreate it and comparing it to his present situation that he doesn't like. He believes that he can mold his future to give him the same satisfaction his very selective memories of the past gave him. Meanwhile Spamton is trying to ignore his past, refusing to tell the truth about it, focusing on the present to make things work while also constantly fearing for the future. His past experience has informed him that life tends to find a way to punish him for seeking his own self-determined happiness.
I've joked about this AU being a fix-it fic disguised as toxic doomed yaoi but it might as well also be toxic doomed yaoi disguised as a fix-it au... IT'S BOTH. Some Schrödingers yaoi where it's both doomed and fixed at the same time, you won't know which it is unless you open the box.
You can open the box under the read more as this is literally just the preamble and the actual answer to the ask is discussed below 👇
So the idea of Tenna to explore his free will and self discovery by finding someone else that could give him that family he always wanted that wasn't Spamton since he can't get him pregnant is a really good question BUT IT MAKES ME SO SAAAD. I've been thinking about it for a long time because of all the other stuff I said but also it just, made me upset to think about, my doomed Spamtennas... like yea OK they get divorced all the time so it's not out of nowhere that Tenna could find a new partner during the separation, but it truly had never crossed my mind to ever do that for the AU, it wasn't ever on the table of ideas for me. I mean... it be interesting though!!!
HOWEVER ☝️ there is one fundamental flaw to this thought experiment, and that is that I can't ever see myself giving him the possibility to actually get pregnant. Because I hate him it would be very counterproductive to an important part of Tenna's arc for me in the AU, which is to wake up from your lalala land escapist fantasy and face the music. No, you can't live in a TV Show where there is a happy ending and the credit rolls, you gotta wake up... WAKE UP!!!
Speaking of, I am back on my Bojack Horseman bullshit as that is another big inspiration source for the AU for me. Tenna and Bojack has similarities in that sense of being washed up celebrities that watch reruns of their own shows, having some major narcissistic tendencies while also being like 3 bad days away from killing themselves. Having recently watched an essay/analysis on Bojack Horseman and depression the lines from Bojack haunts me (timestamp: 28:20) "No one's gonna be there when I kill myself? Listen to that chanting, Diane. The chanting don't lie! There is going to be PLENTY of people around when I kill myself!" as I'm just like, HELLO??? SIR???? DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF- oh my god. No, yea, he lives and dies for the audience, clearly.
For the pregnancy stuff though I am definitely more looking at Princess Carolyn from Bojack Horseman for inspiration. As she had her own struggles with getting pregnant/having miscarriages while relentlessly pursuing her goal of becoming a mother with or without a man in her life. I think it all started with a dream of having that rich guys baby and how it could give her and her mother a new, perfect life, which was lost with the first of many miscarriages she had. I think she both believed that the baby was her ticket out, but also had a wish to give that baby a better life/mother than the one she was stuck with. She even said that when she was feeling her worst she pictured her future child telling others about her in stories and how it would all turn out fine in the end. Like damn, that dream was her lifeline basically. It is what kept her going, and in the end she DID have a child, via surrogacy/adoption.
So with that in mind, I would now have another use of Ms. Information as an instigator here. Telling Tenna the things he wants to hear/believe by hooking him up with people that know how to install upgrades in his body with the intention of making it possible for him to get pregnant. Then crushing his dreams by having it just straight up not working anyway. Welcome Loss.jpg into the AU, I fucking guess. I am still struggling to picture him with other partners, because it would just make me sad to not just think about Tenna's disappointment but theirs too. But it also fucks me up to think about him doing this alone. Maybe he tried with different partners and then just tried it on his own when it kept failing to not disappoint more people. It's... depressing to think about... And it fucks me up because Spamtons puppet dysphoria is right there, this is the guy that would understand what it's like to have a body that doesn't do and function in the way you want it to 100% - YOU HAVE EACH OTHER!!! COME OOON
Actually let's check in on how Spamton would feel about all of this. If they had another divorce so Tenna could have a chance of starting his New Perfect Family I think he'd be """fine""" with it. Well, pissed about it, but in a OK I see I'm not good enough for you well fuck you like you even deserve to have me then, goodbye type of way. He wouldn't stop him, his life is just not meant to have good things last after all. Tenna takes the Pipis in the divorce. Ralsei is his own person he can do whatever. And he can pretend he is unbothered by it: "I don't care" I say caringly, while caring deeply. I think there is also a nagging voice at the back of his head every time he saw Tenna and wondering if it would work this time. A voice that reminds Spamton about his first hand experience of what sort of punishment awaits if you get too close knocking on heavens door when reaching for your dreams. And he'd be worried, and not sure what to do with those feelings because WHY should I CARE? Well, because that's your husband, idiot, go get him. He needs you right now.
To make everything less depressing, the husband's would get back together (again). Tenna and Spamton not being 100% compatible with each other is something I love about the relationship. Being forced to have to come to terms and accept those parts they can't change because of their nature as Darkners. To sit with that, grieve that, then choose to love each other even if it's not perfect. Like, sorry Darkners you can't have everything you want but you can cope with the absurdity of your existence as Darkners by leaning on each other. I think it could be read as both a queer/trans experience but also a disability one, hell, why not both.
The reason I keep rejecting the idea of writing fiction that depicts a perfect life to live is because the normative life of how bodies are expected to function and families are expected to be formed is NOT a comfort or power fantasy to me, it is a god damn prison. NOT TO MENTION, the aroace-ness in me that looks in horror of the idea of friends and family members entering their era of starting a family with their two kids, a dog and mortgage and just... leaving everyone else behind to pursue that and nothing else. Hell, hell on earth! I want out!! LET ME OUT!!! GET ME OUT OF HEREEEE
MAN IDK, I think it's more comforting to write about coping with the horrors than pretending they're not there or can be magically wished away. Without going into details I can say that I've already been through a life changing, irreversible event that makes the future I dreamed of/saw for myself literally impossible to have. That door is closed forever! And I've grieved the life I can't have!! A lot!!! And I still am and probably always will. But I know I'm not alone in those struggles. We all have something to deal with, and other people around us can either make it worse or make it better. It's about finding the tools and the right people to make the grief more bearable, though not completely go away.
IN CONCLUSION: No, none of them can have babies. They can't have kids in the traditional sense, but that shouldn't stop them from forming a family. Ralsei sign the adoption papers right NOW. Maybe one day I'd allow the pipis to hatch, but considering everything I've talked about I don't think I will. I have read the pipis as a glitch since I recall Noelle encountering one first made by Spamton in her game as a glitch. Turning the pipis into a baby would definitely be a glitch in the Darkners existence as That's Not Suppose To Happen BUT I am more looking forward to using pipis as a metaphor for something else. Stares at Ralsei. Anyway, it's kind of a bummer but I fuck it, it's my AU and I get to use it as a way of dealing with my own grief for a life I can't have by pointing at the characters going "Fuck you, we're in this together now."
