Work Text:
It was the scam of the century. The three greatest dark lords that there were, all meant to be a part of the prophecy with their power and position overtaken by three nobodies who just happened to be in the right place and the right time.
At least that was the case with himself and Ramb. When it came to Jevil, it was all a bit strange. If Spamton didn't know it better, he would think the clown had gone through with the plan out of some sadistic desire to watch the kings of his dark world suffer.
The plan was simple. Each of them have received a shadow crystal, an item of incredible power that should not be physically touched by any of them, lest the one touching be driven to madness. That very item had to be stabbed into the chest of the dark lord in question, to allow their soul to be fully corrupted by their power. This would screw with the prophecy and screw with the monarchy. It was a win-win all things considered and the only price the world had to pay was the fall of some nobles nobody particularly liked.
Even with that in mind, Spamton liked to think he had been the kindest about it. Ramb had straight up stabbed his dark lord from behind and Jevil apparently committed a mass murder in his wake, leaving only one of the kings and his son alive. Spamton, on the other hand, had taken his time growing close to the queen. He got to know her, he listened to her tapes, listened to her struggles and her worries about one certain girl in particular before being finally allowed into the queen's room, much to a certain weasel's chagrin.
There was no romantic love from either of the parts involved, or course. They both knew where they stood as friends with benefits. It still didn't make what happened next any less bitter.
When he closed his eyes, Spamton could still see the queen, asleep by his side with no care in the world as she was assured of her safety by her new best friend.
But Spamton was running out of time. He had also been the last to fulfill his part of the agreement, only a few hours before the agreed time. It wasn't an idea of saving the lightners or the world that pushed him to do it. It was the fear of becoming stagnant, nothing more than the corrupt, defect addison that most would agree belonged in the trash.
No. Not him. He refused.
It was fear that stabbed Queen in the heart.
And again, proving his kindness like his colleagues, he didn't banish her like Ramb had done to his previous lord nor did he torture her and threw her in a dungeon beneath the palace while making her son watch like a CERTAIN clown. He gave her a room. Granted, he gave her the basement of the castle from which she rarely ever left, but that had nothing to do with Spamton! The queen was just happy spending most of her time drinking acid tea in her new doll-like body. Who was he to stop her? Plus, it wasn't like she was alone! Swatch and Taskmanager visited her plenty! Had their positions been swapped and him ending up in the basement or, angel forbid, the trash, would anyone even come? He didn't think so. He… really didn't think so.
Plus, since he took over, the dark world was much better! They had five times the amount of visitors they had before and now, people would actually spend money on them! What had once been just a library had now evolved to a true cybercafe with the books relegated to upstairs. In other worlds, he had expanded! Doubled cybercity's size, in fact, and even got a few lighteners working for him in exchange, including Queen's beloved girl who he could now keep a close eye on thanks to the cybercafe app all employees were required to download, again, his invention! He would send daily affirmations of positivity and self love and care to all his employees, not just Noelle! Even the annoying bird guy got some! Wasn't even amazing?! He was sure that, had the queen been able to get out of her fantasy world where she was drinking tea with ghosts on a daily basis, she would agree.
Yes, he was wonderful! He was a true big shot and every cyber darkner should love him for what he would continue on doing! He would expand and expand and expand until everyone knew their name! And the world would be saved as an additional bonus. Now, wasn't THAT lovely?
Well, his benefactor didn't seem to think so as he had gathered all three of them in Ramb's world to complain about how all of it still wasn't enough, how there were still too many variables that could permit the prophecy to happen and whatnot. All that good work, and not one single thank you. Not from his employees, not from his boss, not from Mike.
Mike…
No matter. They were just too blind to see all the good he was doing. That was what Spamton muttered to himself as he shoved the doors of the studio open and stomped towards a Christmas tree in the middle of the desert of the snow. What did their benefactor even want them to do?! Murder their previous lords?! He wasn't a killer, dammit! He was a salesman!
Spamton kicked a present to the side in his rage, only to be surprised to see a small figure looking up at him with no eyes.
The CRT still wore the red tailcoat and belt that he was normally seen wearing in his promotional art, though the coat looked more like a red cloak now. Blue pants— at least he hoped it was pants and not his actual legs— ended in tiny yellow feet. By all means, that tiny, triangular body should not be big enough to support that comically large television head, and yet, there he was looking up at him.
“Oh! Hello!” The CRT greeted.
“Uh, hey. Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you.” Spamton went to cover the hole again, only to be interrupted.
“No no! It is ok! I just stay down here to escape the cold, haha.” He began climbing out of the hole, allowing Spamton see his plug, which wagged from one side to the other. “Are you new in the studio?”
“No, not really. I'm just passing by. I actually rule my own dark world, see.”
“Oh, I see. I used to rule a dark world too. This one, actually, haha.”
Spamton winced. Maybe he shouldn't be boasting about his current position, after all, he was short once as well.
“Oh, please, don't feel sorry for me! I was a terrible boss and everyone seems much happier with Ramb in charge! Plus, he promised that he would let me handle the points one day! I'm sure it will be any minute now! Haha!”
“I see you found Tenna, Luv.” Spamton jumped slightly, his wings flapping before he turned his visor to look at Ramb.
The old plug boy was the largest out of all of them new lords and, from what he understood, while he was still the favorite, he didn't suck all the attention of the lightners like the CRT would. Instead, he powered them on, allowing for everyone to have their time to shine. He was their support, their light some would even say.
Spamton was disgusted by how much the darkners in this world seemed to love the plug.
“H-hey, boss.” The tiny TV guy forced a smile in that pitch black screen of his. “J-just telling this darkner how great of a boss you are!”
“This darkner has a name. The one! The only! The king of only, Spamton G. Spamton, thank you very much.” The lord huffed before rubbing his chin in thought. “Say, Lil’ Tenna here was also telling me that you promised to let him handle your dark points.”
Tenna swallowed while Ramb glared at him past his smile.
“Oh, did he now?”
“No need to twist your tail, Ramb. Say,” Spamton casually slid his arm around the plug boy perhaps just a little bit too familiar, “Swatch hasn't been the best butler lately, with him preferring to keep Queen company than do his job, and I could use an extra pair of hands to handle the goods in cyber city. What do you say ya let me keep the little one, huh?”
“What?!” Tenna and Ramb said at the same time.
Spamton leaned in to whisper into his fellow boss’ ear.
“Think about it! That way, the boss will get off our backs more! He's still worried about the prophecy, yeah? So if one of the parts ain't even in the right place, we got even more safe, yeah? Plus, we both know he won't be turning to stone, with the whole crystal being jabbed in his SOUL thing. I get one more employee under my belt, you get to get rid of this thorn under your thumb and the boss gets more safety!”
“Hm, when you put it like that, it does sound appealing to say the least. But what good can you do with that piece of junk? And what will you do about his light world counterpart?”
“Oh, don't you worry ya pretty little head, Ramb. Convincing lightners to do things for me is my bread and butter.” Spamton moved so he was in front of Ramb, his arms reaching to wrap around his shoulders. “As to what I will do to him, well, that's for me to decide, ‘innit?’”
Spamton imitated Ramb's accent for emphasis.
This got a hearty laugh out of the blue darkner. “Already trying to seduce me, Spamton? Careful not to bite more than you can swallow, love.”
Ramb brought one of his large paws to Spamton's hips and squeezed hard enough to make the shorter darkner to let go. He did his best to maintain his smile.
“Is that a promise?”
“Go back home, Luv. And if ya can convince the lightners to bring the CRT to your cafe, he's all yours.” Ramb said with his back turned towards them as the hound made his way back to the studio.
Spamton looked down at his hips. They were glitching. Not terribly so, nothing a good meal and a bath couldn't fix.
“Did-” Tenna began to say, “did he just give me away?!”
“He did.” Spamton nodded before leaning down to look screen to visor, “but don't you worry, little guy. We are going to have lots of fun together from now on.”
…
Three days was how long it took to convince the Dreemurs to ‘donate’ their old TV to the Cybercafe in exchange for several promotional coupons to Spamton's online shop. They could even buy his most prized item, one of his cungaderos if they were smart about it! He doubted it was much of an issue for them, after all, they barely watched TV anymore. The effects of the shadow crystal caused Tenna's screen to produce phantoms more often than not, making the old device more of a decoration piece than anything useful.
That would still be the case in the Cybercafe, he wasn't really planning on getting Tenna plugged, but! More people would get to observe him! And who didn't like retro? CRTs are a novelty nowadays! And nostalgia sells!
Spamton sat on his throne with a bottle of acid by his side as he waited for his newest butler, and possible accountant, to make his way there.
Small footsteps approached as did the tiny darkner. “Here we go, w-what do you think, sir?” His voice was small as he kept his head low.
Tenna still wore his belt and gloves, however, his tailcoat had been replaced by a red and white one, not too dissimilar from Swatch's, but better. Newer. More sleek, or at least as sleek as Tenna's triangular body would allow him. He had definitely gained weight from his time in the posters. His undershirt and vest were now where the red came from, same with his pants and shoes which, from afar, might appear to be one and the same. He looked good, very good, far better than Swatch's attire. The only issue was his sad size and depressing face.
“Can't you turn on your face?”
“Not without any power, sir.”
“No need for honorifics while we are alone. I am a man of the people, after all! This is annoying though. Come here.” He stood up and began making his way towards Tenna. Spamton brought one of his hands to his mouth before biting down onto it.
“S-sir!” Glitches and sparks of electricity flooded from the injury.
And yet, the lord looked satisfied. “Come here, Tenna. I want you to drink some of my electricity.”
“M-milord?! But—”
“No buts. You may not be plugged, but you still deserve to have the conditions to be your true self. If the lightners won't provide you with that, your humble lord shall.”
Tenna looked up at the angelic figure in front of him and then the injury before swallowing into nothing. He took a step forward before gently taking the other's hand and starting to suck its contents.
It was simply divine.
Spamton's electricity tasted better than any acid or tea he had tasted. It was sweet and refined, certainly as addictive as Addisons were told to be. With every sip, more energy overtook his body, and his mind felt more clear than he had in a long, long time. It was almost like he was his old self once more.
Tenna wasn't sure when he started to grow, but soon, he was towering over his lord with his outfit, thankfully, doing the same with him.
Spamton looked up at him and even with his visors over them, Tenna could recognize the fear in his eyes.
No, that wasn't what he wanted to see.
Tenna turned on his screen, reflecting the same pale white tone of Spamton's skin tone back at him as well as a long nose, imitating that of his master's. That was the greatest sign of admiration, right?
Well, it seemed to work as fear was replaced by a large, sincere smile.
“I'll be damned, Cathode. You really were hiding your light, huh?”
“Not intentionally. I was just going through some rough times. Man! I feel AMAZING now!” Some effects came with his words, something he hadn't done in years.
“How—?”
“Truly, thank you, mister mailman! I can't thank you enough!” Tenna grabbed Spamton by the hips and twirled with him, causing the lord to let out a small yelp. He was put down “Oh, I wish the lightners could see me like this! I know it might be too much to ask, but you couldn't maybe try to convince them to plug me back on, right? I promise I won't disappoint, sir!”
Spamton fixed his pink suit before addressing the CRT, “while you are wonderful decoration, Cathode, no one comes to a Cyber Cafe to watch TV.”
Tenna felt himself shrink, figuratively speaking, of course. He was still too full of energy. His antennae drooped in front of him.
“But, I have been considering a ‘kid space’ where parents can safely leave their little sponges while they enjoy the interwebs. You do have experience with kids, right? Would you be interested in working with them?”
“Do I? Would I?! YES! I would be ECSTATIC to work with kids again!”
“Then, my friend, maybe there is something I could do to you. Would you look at that? Second day of work and you might just get a promotion l.”
Tenna had long forgotten what hope looked like, but maybe this strange addison could remind him.
…
Life was good again. Tenna had an audience once more, sure, most of them could barely understand what he said, but that didn't matter. As long as he had their attention and their love, he was happy.
Not everyone in Cybercity seemed to agree with his general opinion. In fact, most of the Addisons seemed to despise their lord, wishing for the return of the queen. As for the others, they were a lot more divided on Spamton. Some adored how much more attention the lightners gave to all of them, with there being entire lines during the weekend of monsters wanting to come and see them. On the other hand, Cybercity seemed a lot more strict than before. More rules and laws to achieve as much profit. Everything was about marketing and what the lightners could do for them. Some darkners complained that Spamton sucked away their souls.
Tenna couldn't see it. If anything, Cybercity was brimming with heart in his opinion. Spamton clearly knew how to appeal to the lightners.
Maybe that was why Tenna could not stand people shit talking his master. They didn't understand what true suffering felt like. They hadn't been abandoned to freeze in the snow as a husk of himself. Banished, away from prying eyes. They didn't know what it was like to be a leech, feeding off his master's power like a vampire.
Hell, even the queen who Spamton had every reason to kill or abandon was given a nice room in the castle where she lived with her two lovers (or at least they assumed they were lovers.)
Ungrateful, that was what they all were.
That was why Tenna felt no remorse in tearing apart the rebellions with the help of the swatchlings, gracefully put under his control by Swatch after him and Taskmaster retired from the position. Now, Tenna was Spamton's head butler and chief of security, as well as running his own show for the little ones.
It was wonderful. He still got to be in charge of most things, but he no longer had the worries of administration or dealing with his employees' payment. Really, the only issue with his new position was how dependent he was on his master, and not in a professional way.
Even plugged, Tenna needed his electricity to stay as himself, power and all. If anything were to happen to Spamton, he wasn't sure what would happen to him. No, rather, he refused to think of himself like that pathetic creature, happy to curl by Ramb's feet and be thrown away.
Never again. He would make sure to keep his master safe and happy.
“More acid, sir?” He showed Spamton the bottle of green liquid.
“Yes, angel, what a day. Can you believe that snake boy broke one of the computers AGAIN?! Really, I don't know how he keeps doing it!” Spamton sunk into his throne.
“Hm, I was never too familiar with Jockington. He was never too close to Kris or Noelle.”
“Thank fuck for that!”
“Sir, what would our sponsors think if they heard this type of language from you?”
“Ugh, fine, fine. Thank the angel for that. Better?”
“Very.” Spamton pouted as he proceeded to down his drink.
Tenna got behind him and proceeded to start working on a massage.
The Addison lord tensed momentarily before forcing himself to relax.
“All of this with the lightners and an increase in rebellions as a nice bonus. Why can't they see that what I am doing benefits them as well? Did I ever tell you what this place looked like before I took over? An absolute dump, was what it looked like! A dump! No offense to Queen, but she ruled like shit! She would rather throw parties and pretend everything was ok instead of trying to really understand the lightners and what they wanted. Of course Noelle is upset! She lost her goddamn sister! Who wouldn't be upset in that situation?! She doesn't need new dresses! She needs words of affirmation and love which her mother refuses to give to her, a job so she can get the hell out of that house as soon as possible and closure!”
Tenna winced at the mention of Dess. “Any word of her?”
“No, it is still as if she just vanished.”
“What about the nightmares?”
Spamton looked at his own reflection in the acid.
“Sir, do you still have nightmares with Dess?”
“Yes, I do!” Spamton snapped and downed his acid. “I do. It's still the same thing, just her voice, crying, pleading for help, for someone to find her. But it is also weird, like I am listening to her from a phone.”
“Doesn't your benefactor know anything about this?”
“Even if he did, if he wanted us to know, he would have told us by now. We can't exactly reach him unless he wants to be reached.”
“That is rough.”
“I know.”
“I will tell you what.” Tenna bent to look his master in the eyes, “why don't I bring you dinner in your room and you can eat it while watching one of your old west shows you like so much.”
That got a small smile out of the addison. “That sounds like a date.”
…
Maybe Tenna hadn't been entirely truthful earlier. His dependence on Spamton was also emotional. As it turns out, his lord was also his favorite audience. Having those dark eyes enamored by his screen made things to his wiring that he didn't dare dwell on dwelling for too long. If someone had told him three years prior that this would be the effect a darkner had on him, he would have laughed on their face. Spamton truly was unlike any other darkner he had met. He had ambition, he had the determination to be more than what fate had decided for him.
While Ramb had convinced everyone and himself that his actions had, somehow, been for Kris sake and the lightners, Spamton did it all for himself. Because he thought he deserved better and because he thought he could be better if given the chance and he was right. He was a self made star, the type that only the best of the best among lightners, the protagonists of any show could be.
And he did all of that while being a darkner. A darkner who would lean in closer and touch Tenna's case like it was the most important thing in the world while immersed in his show.
It was everything to Tenna.
The episode ended with the main couple of outlaws successfully robbing a bank and riding into the sunset, the man and the woman professing their love followed by a kiss and the letters of its end.
Spamton fell back onto his bed, not with joy but melancholy. Before Tenna could ask what was wrong, Spamton spoke up. “Why doesn't anyone love me, Tenna? I do everything for the people of this city and half of them want my head on a pike. Queen didn't give two shits about them, and yet, even in a state of insanity she has not one, but two hotties fawning over her! Even the addisons get more action than me!”
“If it makes you feel any better, Spammy, I have never really experienced romantic love other than how it was shown on TV.”
“Wait, for real? Never?” Spamton raised his head, “what about the old oba oba?”
Tenna chuckled. “No, I haven't done THAT either. I was never attracted to darkners, even the lightners I did feel things for were all heroes or celebrities out of my reach.”
“Wow. I was certain you had something with the two cuties you kept near you. Or even a hate fuck situationship with Ramb.”
“Elnina and Lanino are dear friends, but not more than that. They only have eyes for each other. And I think I would rather be abandoned in another frozen wonderland as just a rattling coward than sleep with Ramb.” Tenna huffed.
“Hah, he is pretty pathetic.” Spamton's face dropped, “oh angel.”
“What?”
“The last person I slept with was Jevil.”
“Oh.”
“Oh my angel, this is terrible! A true catastrophe! And that has been MONTHS!” He sunk his face into his pillow and kicked his feet, his wings following suit in distress.
Tenna found it cute.
“Why would you even do that? You HATE his guts.”
“I don't know! I was drunk and I was angry and sometimes when I am drunk, I think that anger equals horny and THAT happens!”
An intrusive thought launched through Tenna's head to annoy Spamton the next time he became too intoxicated.
“Well,” the TV licked his lips, “if you would like, I could assist you with that.”
“Hah! I taught you too well. I am not paying you for sex, Cathode.”
“I never said you had to pay me for it.” Tenna huffed and sat on the bed, moving one of his hands to Spamton's ankle. “I just want to help you, Spammy. You have helped me so much, and it hurts me to see you in pain. I want to be the one by your side, no matter what you need me for, be it your friend, your butler, your television, your lover, whatever you need me to be.”
Spamton's face glowed pink. The lord had once informed Tenna that out of all the darkners, Addisons were the most human-like with their biology being near identical save for a more elastic, glowing skin that could be different colors. He could see that now. Looking up close, the lord had actual freckles as well as smile lines. Had he been created with the latter? Or did it develop after years trying to be an unsuccessful salesman.
“I- I will think about it!” Spamton diverged his gaze and pushed Tenna's head to the side. “For now, I would like to sleep, please.”
Tenna couldn't help the disappointed sigh that escaped him. “As you wish, sir.” He began moving to stand up. Just before he could fully go, though, a hand grabbed his.
“Wait!” Tenna turned to glance at Spamton, only to be surprised by warm lips against his own. It wasn't a chaste kiss either, at least not after the first few seconds. The lord slowly deepened it, tilting his head to better adjust their noses.
It was a good idea, because Tenna couldn't contain the flower blooming from his nose any longer.
Spamton tasted like his previous spaghetti and cigarettes. He tasted alive, something Tenna could only dream of being. Soon, wings were enveloping them both, protective. Tenna dared to dip his fingers on Spamton's hair, only barely being able to register how soft it was before he was pushed away, like the lord had been snapped back from whatever spell had him in trance.
“There, that's what you get for now. Now get out of here. And that never happened!”
Tenna had what he assumed was the dumbest smile on his face. His legs barely worked as he headed to the door. Truly, he felt like he might start floating at any time.
That night, he wouldn't be feeling so alone.