#SEN AU

[tunastime]

80 for spotify wrapped writing game!

hi midna!! long time no see!! so I know it's not target audience per se, but you got 24 by flor, and that's such a xisuma SEN (space au!) song that I had to make something for that, it overcame me. I don't know what happened. slight tw for injury!

(421 words)

Xisuma stands up.

The mirror beside him is still shattered down the side, large chunks of square plasti-glass scattered over the floor. Each of them is cracked in such a way that Xisuma’s marred face makes fractals when he looks through them—bits of eye, bits of bandage, bits of cheek and chin, bits of dull hair. He sweeps, collecting the shards into a small pile. The sink is still cracked, too, from the force. He sweeps to the edge of the bathroom, a long stretch of glass and dark red-brown blood, dried to a tack on the floor. It stretches from the point of impact (sink) to where Xisuma managed to pool the blood in his own hands, desperate for gauze (cabinet) and to where it dripped through his fingers (door).

He catches a second glimpse of himself in the shattered mirror—his face looks tired, eyes underlined with grey half-moons and his suit more rumpled than usual. It takes him a moment to look away. It’s like he’s not even looking at himself. Every picture he owns with his face in it, he’s a young captain—the youngest, they always said, not even 20 by the time he’d had his own ship—unmarred and bright-eyed and so different than what he is now. He supposes he expected to be the same, at least a bit, somehow. 

He scrapes dried blood from the floor. There’s movement in the hallway, around the corner, people passing in and out of rooms as they clean the ship. They’ve long since started their trip back at this point—tidying and fixing up broken parts for the ship to be reused, both by Xisuma himself and by any seconds in command at his stead when they return. Seconds. Right. Yeah. He’s not spoken to Doc since they lost Tango, has he?

Xisuma puts the broom down. He’d forgotten that, actually. Shame that is. That they’d not talked in a minute. It’s neither of their faults, really, just, with cleaning, and with the paperwork Doc had to fill out, for the arm, and the calibration, and telling Xisuma he’d talk to the Chief about everything, so that X didn't have to. Yeah. He’d just gotten so distracted trying to fix everything before their arrival next week, so it had just happened that way.

The shards get swept into the dust pan, and the contents dust pan disposed of in the trash chute. The bathroom looks dull, now, along with himself, sleek and grey and cold. Xisuma squares his shoulders.

It’s fine. At least the blood didn’t go into his eyes, right?

He takes up the broom and leaves the room, leaving the shattered mirror behind him. His visage disappears in chunks—shoulders, legs, neck, head.

(spotify wrapped ask meme)

[that-writing-kangaroo-fish]

RUMORS OF MY DEMISE better not exist i know it’s been a year and a half but like cmon writing is fuckin hard ANYWAYS. MORE SEN AU STUFF. in which Nny is confronted with the problems that arise when you are once again touch-averse AND have been majorly set back communication-skills-wise

[smallpwbbles]

Just remembered that scene in that Austin powers movie

[fuji-sen]

MONSTER UNDER THE BED

a scar x reader oneshot / miniseries ༉‧₊˚༉‧₊˚.

based on the music video: Monster under the bed by Emily Mei.

fandom: wuthering waves (game)

characters: reader, Scar (delinquent and jock-ish?), Rover, mentions of Baizhi.

setting: modern au, characters (most) are in a college setting.

warnings 🖤❤️: stalking, yandere themes, drugging, kidnapping, obsession, lovesick???, scar, off the scene violence, suggestive intimacy or gifts (used underwear), suggested sex behind the scenes.

disclaimer: made when wuthering waves recently got out, so characters may seem ooc in the future. If it does seem ooc, I'll maybe consider rewriting it in the future.

˖⁺ ・🔪⋆ ♡ 💌・ ⁺ ˖

You stare at the man who towered over you, your body was sprawled on your bed, the sheets in a state of disarray, your room was dark except for the soft moonlight that poured in from your window. Your hair and skin was wet, and you were in nothing but a towel as you had gotten out of the bath.

Fluffy locks of peppermint colored hair framed the man's face very well, his eyes, mismatched just like his hair, stared deep into her eyes with a nearly indescribable emotion.

His hands held your wrists, pulling your arms above your head, his weight nearly holding you down. His lips tugged to a smirk, "I got to say, you put up quite a fight, and a cute one at that but.."

"You're no match for me little lamb."

a year ago...

It was just the start of your second year at college at Jinzhou Academy. Your hands smoothened the creases of your uniform as you stood at the entrance of the main building. Numerous students walked by, some had different colored hair, others had scars or echos for pets or assistances, some were focused on their textbooks and school work.

"(name)!" A voice called you over, and you turned to greet your friend, Rover, who had a mop of black hair and enchanting gold eyes. They made their way towards you, "sorry I kept you waiting!" they apologized.

You shook your head with a smile, "it's alright Rover, what kept you busy?"

"Almost got into trouble with Scar.." The black haired student sighed in annoyance, your brows raised as your interest was piqued by the mere mention of the name, 'Scar.' He was one of the more famous delinquent or troublemaker at Jinzhou. That's all you knew, you were relatively quiet, bordering on introvert, and although you did have friends, you never made it a mission to seek more having been buried by your curriculum.

"I suggest you stay away from him." Rover grimaced, noticing your curious look. You quickly scoff "oh come on, I'm not stupid." you brushed their expressions off.

"Well, well, well" an unfamilliar voice was heard by you two, and you find another student, in a much more incomplete and messy uniform and a rather bloodied state, approach you. Specifically Rover.

The scarred face student wrapped an arm around your friend's shoulder, "how could you snitch on me Rover~! and I just thought we were warming up to each other!" he sighed playfully hurt.

You scanned his appearance, his tie was loose, merely hanging on his neck, the top buttons of his shirt wasn't buttoned, and instead of the blazer or vest, he opted for a striking red jacket/coat, His hair was messy yet looked so fluffy, with the colors of red and white. His eyes were mismatched, perhaps heterochromia? he had red and grey hair, complimenting and matching his hair.

"Get off me Scar!" Rover's words fell on deaf ears as Scar laughed. "Oh come on, you're just rubbing more salt on my wounds" Scar said, a hand on his chest "and after I made the offer for you to join us!"

"I don't want to join!"

You weren't paying attention, continuing to scan the male, he had gold earrings and black gloves, he also had a black bag around his chest, and you could see the numerous scars around his arms perhaps from hard labor or countless fights.

On his face was a large scar, but it seemed to only enhance his beauty, his hands were stained with almost dried up blood, some of it was smeared on his face.

Your brows furrowed, 'what is this feeling..?' you wondered, as you placed a hand on your chest, looking conflicted. Your cheeks were starting to get flushed and your heart was beating rapidly.

"Are you okay (name)?" Rover shrugged off Scar as they made their way to you, worried clear in their eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine." You reassured him as you still continued to look at Scar, who finally turned his attention towards you.

The smile on his face had widened, "and who's this little lamb?" Scar asked and feeling threatened, Rover put their arm in front of you, as if guarding you from the slowly approaching student.

Scar easily slapped Rover's hand away, he leaned towards you, enough for you to smell ashes and smoke. "your name?" he asked, his smile seemed to mellow into a more charismatic one, less of the manic one like before. It seemed more like a mask.

You gave him your name despite Rover's objections.

And seeing as how hopeless it was to stay, Rover took you away, you'd glance back as you walk, and your eyes would meet mismatched ones.

"It's a shame our short date had to come to an end." He pouted as you got farther and farther.

Whether or not he was serious, you didn't care to know. You find yourself focusing on your own feelings, researching at google, you find that the answer was that you simply fell for the scarred student.

You couldn't tell Rover however or seek guidance, they didn't seem to like scar and you didn't trust your other friends.

You could remember how you got to that point in the future.

It started with the little things.

It was your and a few of your classmates' designated cleaning day, but you find yourself alone in the classroom, your cleaning mates decided to play hooky yet again. You frowned but shook it off, there was nothing that could be done. You begun to push the chairs in the desk and erasing the blackboard. But the eraser was filled with chalk so you opened the windows and began hitting the eraser so the dust would fly off.

And then your eyes seemed to catch a peppermint haired boy, and you couldn't stop staring as he played soccer, he skillfully dribbled the ball pass his opponents and kicked it, scoring a point for his team.

leaning forward and eyes squinted to try and get a better look at him as he raised his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, and then-

A gasp escaped your lips, jumping away from the window, as if sensing your stare, he turned to look at your direction, you started to sweat, some part of you hoped that he wasn't looking at or for you, but there was another part of you, a small and tempting voice, that spoke, making you think he was looking at you intentionally, like he knew you were there.

And so you continued on with your cleaning.

Your everyday routine started to change, adapt as you continued to increasingly seek out Scar. Not in a social or chatting way, but in a stalker type of seeking out.

Rover and your other friends could sense your change, but was unable to point out what changed specifically, and you learned to hide it.

The gallery of your phone was slowly filled with candid shots of the apple in your eyes. That one previously empty space in your cabinet was starting to get filled by trinkets and printed out photographs and sticky notes of your 'senpai', your love.

Trinkets such as used bottles or pens or handkerchief you stole from him while he wasn't in his classroom. Sticky notes that filled with compliments and notes about him.

Scar note #1: he doesn't like bitter food or overly sweet and fatty foods.

Scar note #5: he's a member of the sports club while also being in a gang or group named Fractsidus.

Scar note #7: he's having difficulties with science but excels in PE.

You got more bolder as you become more skilled in stalking him, you'd start to leave gifts or anonymous notes inside the drawer of his desk or bag whenever you could. Your gifts vary depending on your mood,

sometimes it was meticulously written notes for his science class, one you had to work hard to learn yourself and even have to ask Baizhi for help, other days you'd leave snacks or bottled drinks for him, food that you knew he liked.

once you were bold, and perhaps becoming more sick? perverted? horny? in love, you sent a pair of your underwear. used ones even, with a particular scent and a white patch.

And yet, your gifts garnered no outward reaction from Scar, at least, from what you could tell.

Even helping him clean or patch up his wounds, or directly communicating or interacting with him face to face, although he regarded you with playfulness or amusement, to you it didn't seem like he was interested in you at all.

But it did not deter you, it motivated you even, like a moth to a flame or perhaps Icarus and the sun. You knew he was dangerous or just bad for you, but it didn't stop you, you wanted him, and you were willing to do whatever it takes to have him.

The notes on your closet became more erratic and less cutesy, the handwriting deepened, almost ripping the paper.

My love <3

So handsome 𖹭

I will have him.

MINE.

You find yourself investigating, procuring questionable materials like a stun gun and thick long rope. You begun to fall into a rabbit hole, and you began to slip in terms of cautiousness, but perhaps that will be for another oneshot~

˖⁺ ・🔪⋆ ♡ 💌・ ⁺ ˖

And then you did it, you finally snapped as you heard that someone planned to confess to Scar. You grabbed a small bottle that had grinding up sleeping pills and headed to school. You finally decided you were going to get what you so desperately wanted.

. . .

You knew Scar's schedule well, and so you knew the perfect time to strike. Scar usually stayed at School very late at night, seemingly doing something on his laptop in the library. And so while he was away having went to the bathroom, you grabbed his bottle from the desk, opening it to hear a fresh pop and then you sedated it.

You left as quickly and as quietly as you came, hiding behind the numerous shelves of the library, you managed to peek through an opening, watching him return, behind his back you could see him reach for the bottle and.. he drank it.

And when he soon fell asleep, you took him away to your apartment. You closed his laptop quickly, putting it in his bag which you also brought to your apartment with you.

After maneuvering around the cameras and stuffing him unceremoniously in a guitar case which he surprisingly fitted in?? Scar was on your bed, and you were slightly out of breath, your hand reached to brush his locks away from his face "I'm sorry I had to put you in a guitar case" you softly apologized, "ah~" you leaned towards his face "you are so beautiful" your fingers would graze his scar, and then he stirred.

With wide eyes you quickly tied him up and tape his mouth, you began to stretch your arms, and mentally you decided to go take a bath.

As you get a towel and headed to the bathroom you closed the lights of the room and went out, quietly closing the door.

In the bathroom, you quickly stripped off all your clothes and after filling the bathtub with water, you dipped your toes and then entered the bathtub. You sighed in relief, praising yourself on a rather productive day.

Once you were done you got out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around yourself, cursing as you remember you forgot to bring a change of clothes. And you walked back to your room, ignoring the wet puddle you tracked in the hallway.

Entering your bedroom you find that something was off but seeing him sleeping soundly on your bed you relaxed, you headed to your cabinet, maneuvering in your dark room to not bother your sleeping love.

As you were about to open your cabinet someone pulled you, and you find yourself in the present predicament.

back to the present

"You're no match for me little lamb."

You stared at him, a bit pale, cheeks flush at the intimate position you were in, your mouth was open but you were unable to express any words.

"Got nothing to say huh?" he laughed in amusement as his grip on your wrists loosened. "Did you think I was that careless to get kidnapped by you?" He questioned and you looked at him as the gears in your head started to turn.. "you let me?"

"Of course, you were such a devoted little lamb, I just had to reward you." He cooed, his other hand cupping your face and you purred, leaning into his warm touch.

"I see" you said softly and you find yourself relaxing, if he willingly let himself get kidnapped by you, then there was some mutual feelings or respect,, right?

Scar hummed, taking his hand away from your cheek causing you to pout, "now how should I reward you next? you did a lot for me after all, such a good little lamb." he said, his hand made its way to your neck, his fingers trailing down, leaving fire in its trail as your body began to feel hot.

You squirmed under him as he reached your collarbone, it taunted you, almost daring it to go further down and perhaps under your towel.

"What do you want?" he asked, there was something burning in his eyes, a look you were familiar with.

"You."

He laughed but didn't seem opposed or disgusted, if anything he seemed pleased, "Good, but if you want me, you have to give yourself to me in return." he told you.

"You already have me."

His eyes crinkled in some sort of twisted joy, and then it confirmed it. The look in his eyes was one of twisted love and obsession, one that mirrored your own, if not overpowering it.

That night was when you officially tied the knot of this twisted love.

He was yours, finally.

And finally (officially) you were his.

˖⁺ ・🔪⋆ ♡ 💌・ ⁺ ˖

Sorry for the low quality gif at the top, I may or may not make a part 2 and 3, depending whether you guys like it or not. Ehe~

[senoleaf]

here's Timekeeper's transformation from this Stanley Parable Experiment AU thing i did!!

[luckyarchivist]

Touchstarved LIs and Fanfiction AUs They Should Be In

Haven't been able to stop thinking about the people who said Ais is "always the tattoo artist in tattoo shop/flower shop AU". I don't even like tattoo shop/flower shop like that but it was such a correct thing to say and I have to acknowledge that. So here's that plus AUs I've seen that I think the LIs should be in.

Ais

Flower shop/tattoo shop, as mentioned. This one is TOO good. Come ON. Ais as the hot-ass owner of the local tattoo shop? Him listening to your idea for a tattoo and then smoothly and easily inking it into your skin and telling you you're good when you don't cry? I don't even need to explain this one. It makes sense in like every way.

NASCAR/Formula One AU. The idea of him getting out of that car sweaty as hell in the full racing suit after crushing a track record? Like, taking off the helmet and shaking his hair out and looking like he couldn't give less of a shit about winning first place? Yeah. I am not immune to vroom vroom

Mermaid AU but he's a bull shark or an octopus, not a fish. IDK if I want his claspers or his tentacles more, but either way he should be lurking in the briny deep and protecting me from the real ocean monsters and threatening to eat me even though he probably doesn't mean it, probably.

Vere

Magic/Witches AU. - C'monnnn, he's already so witchy! He's got the sleeves and everything. And yes I know TS already has magic in it, but you know what I mean. He, like, lives in the spooky forest and the people of the village are deathly afraid of him, but you need his magical help, so against the wishes of family and friends you seek him out. And he forces you through a series of dangerous illusions as a trial and, when you successfully pass them, finally agrees to help you for a price...

Royalty AU as either the capricious king of a powerful nation or that king's advisor, formal or informal (smart concubine). I've never seen Game of Thrones but that kind of castle politics, shadowy backstabbing shit seems right up his alley.

Modern AU as an artist: I already talked about this with Vere as an artist and game dev, but I think it'd be so funny if Vere was just sitting in a coffee shop (local, Starbucks is below him) trying to finish his commissions in peace because his roommate(s) are annoying and/or distracting. Honestly, Vere would also rock as a modern AU witch, like urban fantasy type.

Leander

Barista/Bartender AU. He's so extroverted and congenial I have to put him in a drink service AU. He definitely has a "time to mix drinks and save lives" type of work ethic behind the counter. He remembers regular customers and their drink orders, he is LIBERAL with discounts, and he leaves little notes to the people he thinks are cute.

Serial killer AU. I am so basic and even though I have no desire to watch or listen to true crime now, I was raised on the Investigation Discovery Channel and I've never lost that. Look at his fucking face. He's asking for it to be covered in blood. Even better if this is combined with the above AU and he's a sweet server by day and a ruthless murderer by night but he keeps the same wide, pleasant, and genuine smile on because both things are things he loves to do. Even BETTER if he has an obsession with one of his regulars and starts killing people around them in an attempt to get closer with them.

Theatre AU. Siiiighs. Yeah, I'm a theatre kid. And I just know this guy would be one of those actors who wants to be a mentor/older brother figure for any new troupe-members. He's walking you through all the vocal warmups. He's offering to help you run lines. He's driving you home after rehearsals. He is a triple threat, but he doesn't prefer musicals because he doesn't like singing in front of an audience (even though he's an amazing singer). And I just know props absolutely hates him because he keeps touching shit that isn't his.

Kuras

Hospital AU and Angels/Demons AU is too easy. Instead, I'm giving him the flower shop owner in flower shop/tattoo shop AU. Anyone here like KurAis? Anyways, I think it would be sweet to have him be the super-tall, kind but a little awkward and very knowledgeable owner of a flower shop. He probably enjoys crafting bouquets that have meaning in flower language. And yes, he knows about the nice meanings and the rude meanings, so you can get a "fuck you" bouquet from Kuras.

Detroit Become Human AU as an android. I barely remember D:BH but it was one of the first things that occurred to me when thinking about AUs for Kuras. Maybe because he'd be the kind of android who was like, "Don't worry, I'm not a real person, it's okay if I get shot repeatedly," and wouldn't understand why someone would be concerned about him anyways.

Elementary school teacher/single parent AU but I don't know if I want him to be the teacher or the parent. Do I want him to look after a group of children, making efforts to understand their silly little words and communicate with them so they learn and feel cared for? Or do I want him to be the struggling single parent who is so happy to see their child finally getting the attention they deserve outside the house? IDK, but I'd be happy either way.

Mhin

Superhero AU. They're kinda already halfway to superhero gear with the hood and the cape and the tight pants, but I think it be cool for them to dart from rooftop to rooftop, saving civilians and fighting crime. IDK if it'd be cooler if they were half-hero half-villain (controlled by their bird-monster side and wreaking havoc) or if it'd just be nice to have a crow hero motif. Anyway they save me and I'm a reporter who uses my reporter contacts to try and track them down not knowing they're actually my upstairs neighbor who I bring shepherd's pie and strawberry cupcakes to sometimes.

The other tattoo artist in tattoo shop/flower shop. You know how there's always some other character working in one or both of the shops? Ayeah that's Mhin. Number one, I think it'd be hot if they had tattoos. But even if they don't they're still hot when they give the tattoo because focus and skill are attractive. They're talented enough that Ais keeps them around even though they hate him. They never talk to him even though he's their boss. Over the course of the fic Mhin and Ais get closer b/c Kuras is friends with both of them and he wants them to like each other.

Angel/Demon AU as an angel because I want them to be corrupted :) I want them to be forced to submit to their own worst impulses :) and eventually realize that being evil makes them feel good and more importantly liberated and in control :) also maybe they can get wrecked by a demon please :)

Aaaand the DLC cast gets one as a treat!

Sen

Pacific Rim AU but PLEASE don't ask me why. I don't even REMEMBER Pacific Rim. But the clarity with which I could imagine Sen in a Pacific Rim AU is startling. She's gruff and she doesn't want to partner up with you, a rookie, but somehow you have perfect chemistry in the mech she doesn't want to acknowledge. She's too reckless out of disregard for her life, and you reel her in; you're inexperienced, and she fixes your mistakes. Then one day she starts to notice that she's guarding her own life more fiercely than ever before...because of you.

If that's not what Pacific Rim is about shhhh don't correct me /j

Elyon

Easy answer is pornstar/industry AU or camming AU but I'll never take the easy way out. And I know we don't know shit about the guy but I think reincarnation AU would kinda hit with him. His promo talks about wanting things money can't buy? Like possibly the ability to save his soulmate from dying and forgetting him over and over while he retains the memories of every life they've both shared and lived separately, as friends, lovers, enemies, and strangers? That would go hard imo.

If you read all of that, thanks! I hope you enjoyed~

[socksandbuttons]

Give me them boy lips eclipse

I had one thought actually.

My Eclipses hard to woo im so sorry sen-

[tunafishprincess]

More Spirited Away art this time with Haku

[sincerely-sofie]

*Skitters up to you on all fours and drops this in your lap, then scrambles up the walls and onto the ceiling and immediately falls asleep*

Comic time! Lucky wakes up in the middle of the night and has a chat with Sen in this one.

[tunastime]

Love in the Time of Calculation

as promised: the first chapter of the ranchers SEN fic! this fic takes place inside the au I created for Stretching Endless Night. I'm hoping posting this first chapter will actually get me to. write the rest of it. since I've got so much of it written. jazz hands!! enjoy!

In order to continue supplying food for a growing station, Commander Tango Tek, second to the head of engineering on the space station Prometheus, takes a six month study with the Empire-2 station at the behest of his admiral. There, he meets their botanist and horticulturist, Jimmy, a man he's only communicated with in communiques, voice memos, and documents. When they meet for the first time face-to-face, Tango realizes they both have something very interesting in common. In the face of all odds, two androids fall deeply, horribly in love. (6711 words)

Tango flips a switch on his navigation panel.

“It would be funny,” he says, slowly, enunciating as the recorder picks him up. “If I were to start these with some outlandish startdate. I would find it hilarious, I think, but I don’t know how many other people would. So…

Stardate 2105.47: I’ve just made brief contact with the Ring-style Space Station known as the Empire-dash-2. After discussion of docking procedure, I was forwarded the…passkey for the docking sequence and I should be arriving within two hours of my current time. That time is…in hour format…8:07pm. Lookin’ forward to meeting them, as much as they’re probably lookin’ forward to meeting me. I’ve never spoken to them in person—it’s all been electronic. So…it’ll be interesting, to say the least!” He nods, feeling some inclination to sigh—despite there being no way to. Motions he’d learned and copied from his peers. 

“Thus begins my month-long stay with E-dash-2. I can only hope some work with hydroponics actually gets me somewhere. They tell me the guy’s a genius, so I’m inclined to believe them.”

Tango jabs his finger against the stop recording button. After a beat, the small, LCD screen flashes SENT in dark, bold letters. Leaning back in his chair, Tango folds his arms over his chest, and sets his boots on his console. The ship around him hums faintly, enough to be heard if he pays attention to it. As he leans back, he surveys the inside of his ship, the LTS-111, the small craft that he called home. In comparison to other ships on the Prometheus, it’s smaller, built for short term travel between locations, a cool, dark grey inside. There’s two swivel chairs at the helm, a large front, port window, overlain with his control panel, above and below his chair. Behind him, a door opens to a short hallway—mess hall and his room, just a plain, grey-white with one bunk. There’s a crate with his belongings, of which there are few, a plant on the windowsill to keep him sane. The mess is devoid of food and drink. It’s a luxury he doesn’t need. It’s nice when he can, but it’s nothing but an experience for him. Nothing to be gained from poorly made HASA meals full of crude protein. The edge of his boot catches the lip of the console, pulling at the rubber. He’s tucked his flight suit into his boots. His eyes follow the bright red and gold stripe down the side—division colors. Commander, engineering and technology. On his sleeve there would be the same designation, as was on all of his uniforms. Even the plain black, well fit shirt underneath, even his boots. HASA; Commander. Luckily his boots didn’t have a commander or engineering tag. If he felt so inclined to sand off the small rubber HASA branding he could.

His eyes follow a line across the ceiling, to the small strip of light that brightens the room. He runs his fingers over the seam in his sleeve—habit, again, but he’s not sure from whom. 

The hour passes slowly. Tango spins simulations in his mind, projects from the ship's computer the schematics of E-2. He can see the docking station there on the map and traces out the line from there to the botanical garden. He spends time memorizing that path, and out to other locations, and rolling the names of his new compatriots around in his language acquisition program. None of these things are foreign to him—he’s built for new experiences, new learning opportunities. He can feel where known things end and new begins, and craves to fill the space, often and continuously. When that hour ends, there’s a tinny beep from his communications panel. He looks over the message displayed.

LTS-111 prepare docking sequence.

Tango dials the coordinates into his navigation system, overriding the current charting program to pilot into the docking bay. As he does, a crackling voice jumps to life.

“LTS-111, this is Fwhip, Commander of E-2. Do you copy?”

“E-2, this is Commander Tek of Prometheus. I copy. The Rift is ready for docking procedure.”

“Commander!” The voice—Fwhip—laughs. “It’s good to have you. Glad to hear you made it safely.”

Tango nods to himself.

“Myself as well. Looking forward to meeting you all.”

The line clicks out. Tango resettles in his chair, sitting up straight, taking in the sound of Fwhip’s voice, the designation, the information. He files that away.

The curve of E-2 comes into view, stark white and grey, glittering gold where the paneling reflects light. He watches as the shining craft sits suspended amidst stars, its own field of gravity and oxygen and life shining a faint blue in the light of the nearby sun. He feels that warmth through the front viewscreen, despite the gold foil and shade to block it. It’s nice. In the closest approximation to nice he could get. He pulls the seat’s harness over his chest, snaps it in place as he begins standard docking procedure—slowing to a noticeable crawl, flipping on his communications panels, and switching to reserve thrusters. The Rift was made with older tech, anything he could salvage and amass from ships being decommissioned. It functioned—better than the standard HASA ships and was fully compliant—well beyond what he’d ever expected. Though he wasn’t quite human enough to have real expectations.

The ship settles into a launch port on the far side of E-2. Tango takes his time collecting his belongings. He wanders into his room as the ship powers down, settling into a dull hum. He repacks his bag, giving a quick once-over of the bunk before he lifts the trunk into his arms, the weight negligible. He settles the plant in the corner of his bag, making sure it’s settled before he slings the bag over one shoulder and sets the crate on one hip. His startup keycard sits in his front shirt pocket, and his credentials badge in his back pocket. 

The first thing he notices as he enters the launchpad for E-2 is how clean and bright it is. The launchpad is devoid of anyone working, and there are certainly no other docking ships. The two other ships Tango can see are relatively new and clean, parked closely together. He glances around the space, looking for any sign of movement. His footsteps echo quietly around the empty chamber. To his right, beyond a stabilizing membrane is the winking stars of space. There’s a planet in the far distance, but it’s much too far to see anything notable. 

The bay door to his ship closes as he steps toward the winding steps up to the lofted second floor. He starts up the steps, lifting the crate into his arms. 

“Commander Tek!”

Tango startles. Looking up to the second floor, he sees someone lean over the railing, waving enthusiastically. Tango squints at him, surrounded by the white facade of the walls around him. 

“Commander Fwhip?” Tango says, cocking his head to the side. He sees Fwhip nod again.

Tango smiles a little, eyebrows furrowing despite it. Fwhip. The intonation matches what he heard crackling over the communicator of his ship, though, of course, without the static. He’s wearing stark black, with a large diagonal line cut in red across his chest, up to his collar, and over his shoulders. Tango realizes for a moment that his jumpsuit may not have been the prime choice for meeting a commanding officer—no matter the rank or office. Especially considering that he was supposed to be both a liaison and a researcher. 

But as Fwhip meets Tango on the landing, he shakes his hand firmly. There’s a spark, somewhere, in his eye, his heart rate elevated as Tango greets him. He’s winded, too, like he ran all the way here. Tango feels a piece of information in his mind click unexpectedly into place.

“Commander Fwhip,” he says, copying the smile Fwhip is giving him more fully. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Oh, please,” Fwhip laughs. “Commander, the pleasure is ours. Congratulations on your most recent publication.”

Tango nods. Somewhere, something kicks in his chest, just the faintest flicker of painful phantom sensation. It took him two years to publish that paper—and it was a damn shame he had to die to get it published in full, despite Doc and Etho’s help.

Fwhip’s hand is warm in his, enough to notice the change in sensation between them. He can feel Fwhip’s heartbeat in his palm and the way his breathing stutters for a second when Tango and him shake hands. Fwhip looks down at his hand. Tango lets go first, the noticeable white lines on his skin pulsating in and out. His hand feels stiff as he stretches it, feeling metal extend and retract.

“You’re…” Fwhip starts. Tango sees him frown, just the smallest change between his eyebrows. 

“An android?” Tango finishes. He watches color rise to Fwhip’s face as Tango tilts his head, expression neutral, amused, even. Fwhip laughs, even if it’s born from a touch of embarrassment. Tango hums something low, a version of a laugh he can manage to sound normal. 

“It’s not strange, if that’s what you think I think,” Fwhip says, leading Tango toward the stairs. “Unexpected maybe, but—to be fair, they didn’t tell you anything about me, either.”

“That is very true,” Tango says. He feels that itch, then, that want to know, to delve deeper. He shifts the box in his arms as they round the stairs, reaching the upper platform. “I think most people are surprised to find that I’m an android.” 

“That’s a shame—you’re brilliant for more reasons than just being an android,” Fwhip says, and the click comes back again, like he’s cracking a combination lock one number at a time. 

“I appreciate that,” Tango says, inclining his head. If there were anything in his face to indicate blush, he would be bright red. He hums instead, tilting his head back and forth in a dismissive sort of shake. Fwhip backsteps to walk by his side, raising his eyebrows over his glasses.

“So,” he starts, motioning to the door. “Did you have any questions about the ship as you settle in?”

Tango looks down at his shoes for a second, letting the thought spin in his head. He nods, just once.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’d love to hear more about the botany division—I got a real short mission briefing with Admiral Xisuma before I left. I know we were in a hurry to find the sweet spot of travel.”

“Of course,” Fwhip says. “Lining up that parallel can be real difficult if you don’t time it right.”

“The Admiral’s got an eye for interesting navigation patterns.”

Fwhip laughs, nodding his head. 

“Glad to hear you’re in good hands,” he says, opening the door for them. Tango follows him into a brightly lit hallway, lined in white and cream and bright floor lights. Along the edges are colored lines, intersecting and dividing—red, blue, green—to locations Tango can’t see. He follows Fwhip down a corridor, further from the launch platform. Tango knows this layout—further down the hall is a passenger elevator meant for the science team. They’ll take it down four flights to the belly of the ship, where many of the labs rest, tucked away. The ship's rings orbit each other, so he’ll be in this ring for as long as he’s doing research. They’re relatively straight forward, broken into divided sections inside. He traces the pattern out in his mind as Fwhip begins to speak.

“Well, to give you a station briefing, our main team fluctuates, but I’d say we have about 15 to 20 of us at any given time on command, and then a hundred of personnel and staff besides ourselves. I work closely with Lieutenants Scott and Pix, and both of them know our botanist pretty well,” he turns to Tango as he calls for the elevator, pressing his keycard to the small panel next to it. The numbers above the sliding doors illuminate in orange, bright and blocky. Tango raises his eyebrows. 

“His name is Jimmy,” Fwhip continues. “He’s a Lieutenant Junior Grade, but he’s incredibly good at what he does. I’ll let you two get acquainted when we get down there.” The elevator doors slide open. Fwhip gestures Tango inside before he himself steps in, pressing the button for their floor. Tango sets his trunk at his feet, toeing it off to the side and out of the way. “He spends most of his time down there, so you may not see him much at all besides when you’re working.”

Tango hums. He screws up his face into an approximation of thinking, running the words over in his head. A junior lieutenant. A higher officer, for certain, but for him to be teaching Tango—there feels like there should be a catch. Tango pulls at the seams of the phrasing, the intonation. His eyebrows furrow.

Fwhip answers his question before it leaves his mouth.

“He basically revitalized the hydroponics system overnight—nothing’s changed in the watering or feeding system, but the plants grow like crazy now,” Fwhip folds his arms, glancing over at Tango as Tango folds his hands behind his back. “I think it was his specification for a while, so as soon as he got here, he requested the transfer, and his work brought him up the grade.”

“That’s impressive,” Tango says, a touch quiet. The only other person he knew who’d ever done something like that had been Mumbo, and most of his ideas were feats of engineering so large they required a three-room modified lab space and a blast chamber. Meridian supplied that—though Prometheus—himself included—was sad to lose him to their sister station, especially after how long he worked with Tango. 

“He’s written a paper on it—it’s in the works of being reviewed now,” Fwhip says. “I don’t know how likely it is to go through, though.”

Tango hums again. 

“Why’s that?”

Fwhip shrugs. “He’s just not a nice guy to work with,” he says. “And I don’t mean that to be rude, either.”

The elevator doors open. They spill out into a lackluster hallway, still the same bleach white as the floors above. Taking a sharp right, they follow the curved edge of the ship down the green line, toward a series of crew cabins. Fwhip gestures toward a room closer to the middle of their row. As they stand there for a moment, he offers Tango a keycard.

“We got you a room—well before we knew that you…probably wouldn’t need the bedspace,” he says, shaking his head apologetically. Tango waves his hand. “You’re welcome to it, though.”

“Oh, I’ll absolutely take it,” Tango says, trying that smile again. Fwhip smiles back this time, one that touches his eyes, and makes Tango smile harder.”I like having my own space. Normally I have an office, so this’ll do just fine, I think.”

He presses the keycard to the door as Fwhip lifts his crate into his arms, struggling under the weight for a moment. The door slides open. Inside, as the soft yellow lights raise to bright, is a sparsely furnished room. Fwhip carries his crate into the room, setting it at the foot of the double bed. The room is small, clean, tidy. He turns in a small circle as Fwhip sets the crate down, nodding his head.

“This is great,” Tango says, dipping his head. “Thank you.”

Fwhip nods, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Absolutely,” he says. Moving past him, he gestures back to the hallway. “I’ll be forwarding you the ship changelog, so you know who’s on shift at a given time, and when meals are, if you have any interest.”

“That sounds great,” Tango says, moving with him to the hall. He follows Fwhip back down the hall, back towards the elevator. They diverge at a second hallway and down a third, following the winding corridor through the ship’s interiors. The walls shift from opaque to translucent as they follow the path down, with more and more people shuffling about. Fwhip moves through the hall easily—Tango navigates with a bit more difficulty, skirting past doors sliding open and bright lights and the new rush of people. As they weave through, Fwhip says:

“Figured I’d show you down to the lab,” he checks his wrist, a brief flash of numbers and notifications that Tango doesn’t quite catch fully. “I’ve got a bit before I have to be back at the bridge.”

Tango hums.

“Great—I’ll…hopefully be able to find, uh, Jimmy?”

Fwhip nods. 

“Mhm—” he says. They pause at a lab closer to the end of the corridor. Through the high ceiling and tinted glass, Tango can see the warm yellow and purple light that floods the space. The lab stretches further down the hallway and out of sight. Fwhip tilts his head toward the lab. 

“This is it?” Tango asks. 

“This is the one,” Fwhip says. He steps back from the door, letting Tango tap his card, the door sliding open for him. It stays open for a moment as Tango steps in. Fwhip checks his wrist again.

“I’ll let you find him,” he says. “Hopefully you’ll get a briefing before you leave to unpack.”

Tango nods, smiling again. The warmth of the room starts to roll over him as he stands still—cooling kicks on to adjust, like a sigh out of his chest.

“Thank you, Commander,” he says. Fwhip nods, dismissing him, before the door shuts between them, and Tango stands, alone, in a room full of plants.

He picks his way around the lab for a long while. The quiet is nice, the sound of air circulating and the soft hum of lights and electronics. He hadn’t run this particular section over in his schematics—something about it almost felt invasive. He wanted to learn it for himself, standing in the center of the room, hands braced on the work table. The equipment portion of the lab is its own self-contained room at the front of the lab—big enough for a table, several workstations, shelves of equipment. He rounds the table as he spots a secondary sliding door, obscured by the semi-translucent, white glass. 

Tango presses his loaned keycard to the scanner, watching the door slide open. Stepping inside, he stands amongst a huge lab filled with rows of vegetables, aquatic plants, and small trees. He can see potatoes, carrots, beets, neat and lined in suspended troughs of water and sitting in cups on the floor. Along the walls are digging and planting tools organized haphazardly, strewn about in small piles. The air is warm and humid as he walks his way around a series of rows—it almost feels like its own planet, like the atmosphere alone were thick enough to taste. 

Tango walks along a row, watching the plants with a careful consideration, as if they would move, or reach out to him, or something. But they’re just plants—unmoving beside the slight wave in the airflow. He reaches out after a moment, brushing one of the leaves, feeling it between his fingers. It’s rhubarb. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen rhubarb before. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen this many plants before.

Moving around the hydroponics, Tango wanders around the other side of the lab, watching as it stretches out and further back, rows of plants in tight lines, purple lighting and tubes for irrigation running across the ceiling. He turns into a slow circle, moving back through the rows as he does. The rows loop around back to the supply stations, where Tango walks backward, trying to see the end of the lab, where else it could lead, where else he could explore.

His foot catches under him, sliding out as his knees buckle and he lurches sideways.

He yelps loudly, flailing as he falls, losing his balance and smacking into the shelf behind him. A handful of ceramic plants pots and glass beakers fall with him, smashing to the ground as the shelf comes loose. Tango scrambles up, slipping again as he lands on his hands and knees, fumbling as he tries to scoop the glass into a reasonable, unnoticeable pile, to fix the shovels that must’ve fallen with him, the stacks of gardening gloves under his right boot. He mutters to himself as he does, babbling as his mind whirs with simulations. They were always there—right? That’s fine! He tries to stack a pair of gloves back on the shelf, watching them slide directly off. 

Shoot. Shoot! Damn it!

“Shit—” he mumbles.

“Hello?”

A voice calls out from the other side of the room. Tango hears a door shut. He pushes the broken shards of a pot near his knee together, like he could even try and fix the shattered pot. He searches wildly for the voice as he does.

“Hi—” he manages, voice warbling unexpectedly. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to.”

“What?” the voice comes again. “Who…”

Tango follows a shape through the row of plants as a man in grey steps around toward him. He blinks, owlish and confused, as he stares at Tango. Tango can see the name stitched into his quarter-zip.

Jimmy.

“I’m so sorry—” Tango starts again, but the man—Jimmy—is already halfway to kneeling in front of him, taking the broken pot from him, scooping the rest of the shards into his hands. Tango realizes, all at once, that he’s still sitting on the ground, surrounded by the carnage of him falling unceremoniously over into the stand. He starts gathering the tools around him into his arms.

“It’s…it’s alright—” he sighs, a trickle of confusion, of agitation, leaking into his voice. “Walk me through it, what happened?”

“I walked into it—” Tango says, feeling foolish all of a sudden. It’s not a tangible feeling. He just knows something is churning and curling in him and he can’t place what. “One minute I was turnin’ around lookin’ at this place and the next—wack.”

Jimmy hums under his breath, something amused. Tango blinks at him as he rights the shelf and replace the items from the floor. 

“Wack?” he says, starting to laugh. “I…yeah. Sorry, I don’t organize things very well, it seems like.”

“I don’t either, I’ll be honest…” Tango says, shaking his head. “You’re Jimmy, then?”

Tango scrambles up with glass still in his hands and Jimmy turns back to him as he looks around for somewhere to put it. Jimmy nods his head over to a waste bin, dropping the shards of clay pot into it. 

“Mm,” Jimmy nods. “You’re…?”

Tango makes a half-sound as he turns back to him, waving his hands.

“Commander Tek,” he says, sticking out his hand, smiling a bit lopsided. It feels lopsided at least. He’s trying to copy what he knows, and he thinks he’s failing. “Er, Tango. You don’t have to call me Commander.”

Jimmy raises his eyebrows. 

“Ah—Fwhip told me you were coming,” he says, tilting his head a little, something like a smile coming to his face. “You’re sure just Tango?”

Tango nods.

“Too fancy with the whole thing. I prefer just Tango, anyway.”

Jimmy smiles in full. The action alone splits his face in half, stretching up to his eyes. Tango copies him, after a beat, something that falters just a little bit as he does.

Jimmy takes Tango’s hand. As he does, a buzz of electricity spikes up Tango’s arm and to his elbow, pooling there, zinging cool and bright. Tango startles, jolting back, making a small, sharp sound that gets lost as Jimmy audibly yelps. It didn’t hurt, but it felt new. Tango likes new.

He feels something wash over him, even as he jolts—memory, knowledge, understanding, like an imprint of knowing the man before him before he even did. Jimmy blinks, a furrow coming between his eyebrows. Tango, for a split second, wonders if the feeling is mutual.

“Sorry,” he blurts. The static shock dissipates as he shakes out his hand. “Sorry, I might still have glass….”

Tango looks over his hands, prodding at the silicon for any shards left there. There aren’t any, though—he even brushes them together, trying to feel for anything. Tango glances back at Jimmy. He’s looking him over, that curious, owlish expression on his face again. His mouth quirks up a little, the sides of his mouth lifting.

“You’re an android,” he says.

Tango’s eyes flick over his face for a moment. It’s completely symmetrical, brown eyes clear and bright, hair neatly parted. His movements are smooth as he steps back and adjusts his sleeves and reaches to gently brush something from Tango’s jumpsuit.

“So are you,” Tango finally says, mouth quirking up. His mouth tastes like static electricity.

“Huh,” Jimmy says, soft, thoughtful. The edges of his mouth fully curl up in a way so human and so foreign. Tango catalogs it immediately. “That’s so interesting.”

Tango huffs out an approximation of a laugh—which causes Jimmy to laugh in earnest. The tension dissolves as he laughs, and Tango feels his shoulders drop. That tingling feeling still hasn’t left Tango’s hand. He wonders for a moment if it ever will, or if every time they brush together it’ll light up like static, or if maybe they just happened to be carrying just enough electrical discharge to shock each other. Tango hopes it doesn’t happen again. He’d like to be friendly without risking a shock.

“So,” Tango starts as they stand together in the hydroponic farm. “Is there a reason ESA lets you use terracotta and glass in space?”

Jimmy shrugs. 

“They want it to feel more like Earth,” he hums, amused, turning away from Tango. He wanders a bit before Tango startles to catch up, following him through to the lab room. Jimmy pushes up the sleeves of his ESA sweatshirt. “Not that I would know what that feels like…though I do like it.”

They step through to the lab with the door hissing shut behind them. The humidity and heat follow them in, clinging to Tango’s jumpsuit. He can hear Jimmy mumbling to himself under his breath as he circles the large lab table in search of something. Tango tracks him with his eyes, pausing in the space where Jimmy once was, folding his arms. Jimmy fumbles around for a moment, digging through his cabinets, with Tango watching over his shoulder.

“That’s nice,” Tango says, eyes following him. Jimmy hums, nodding in response. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen Earth myself, either.”

“Oh yeah?” Jimmy says. When he turns back, he’s holding a data pad, a thumb drive and a blank badge. He lines them all up on the table, sitting next to each other. “Have you ever been planetside?”

Tango nods. 

“A few times with my old crew,” he starts, waving his hands back and forth. “Some dry and dusty ones for sure. Not too exciting.”

Jimmy tilts his head a bit. He’s still smiling, and Tango, for a moment, can’t take his eyes off it. He isn’t sure anyone’s ever smiled at him for that long, or maybe he’s misreading it—emotions were a fickle, strange thing. Maybe Jimmy was simply happy. 

Tango leans against the table, back pressing to the side of it, glancing down at the data pad and keycard for a moment. Jimmy looks away as Tango catches his eye. Tango thinks he sees him flush as he turns back around to the computer.

“They haven’t really briefed me on why you’re here,” Jimmy says. “Why’d they send you?”

“To E-1? We’re uh…our science director was looking for a secondary project to help bolster our food supplies—stretch it out a little longer?” He folds his arms over his chest. “Our admiral’s been in contact with Fwhip a few times conversationally, but we normally reach out to the Meridian, a station in our system, for help, but they weren’t having any hydroponics success. So…here I am.”

Jimmy nods absently as he continues typing.

“Hopefully I can give you something useful to take back,” he says, glancing up to Tango. Tango nods, raising his eyebrows.

“I mean, they say you’re the best,” he offers. It’s true—everything Pearl had told him seemed to point directly to whoever was running the botanical experimentation lab on E-2. And here he was, an android, standing in front of Tango.

“Do they?” Jimmy asks.

“Mhm!”

“That’s very nice of them…I uh, I’ve got a badge for you,” Jimmy says, sliding the piece of plastic toward him. Tango picks it up, turning it in his fingers as he listens. It has a small symbol on it, like an overlapping square and a green stripe all the way around it. When he looks back to Jimmy’s face for a moment, he notices that same green stripe around his upper arm. Green. Science. It was fitting. He fits that bit of information right next to what he knows Prometheus’ color to be: nearly the same shade.

“It’ll get you into this lab and ones like it, um, all the way down this hall,” Jimmy unlocks the data pad, pushing it toward him. “And you can record anything you’d like on this pad.”

“Oh, thank you, that’s great, actually” Tango says. He tucks the card into his pocket, where it rests against his chest. The data pad is blank, no notes, no sketches, and no documents. Just the time and date. From what he can recognize, he’s been aboard for about two hours. “Is, uh, is there somewhere we can share notes, or should I be handing this off to you periodically?”

“Whatever you write there will also be stored on the lab computer,” Jimmy says, gesturing back to the screens behind him. “Either of us can access it at any time. It should recognize you as having access to the console, so there shouldn’t be too many problems with that.”

Jimmy studies him for a brief moment before he picks up the thumb drive, twisting it in his fingers. Tango watches the movement, eyes flicking between it, and the pad, and the screen.

“So,” Jimmy starts again. “I can’t say I was expecting an android, but that does make this whole process a lot easier.”

He holds out the thumb drive—Tango holds out his hand. The small bit of plastic that falls into Tango’s palm is lightweight and bright white. He holds it between his thumb and forefinger, frowning just a little.

“What’s this for?” he asks, setting the data pad on the table again. His hands feel an itch to turn the drive around in them, nervous ticks surfacing as he receives data and writes to disk. The humidity, Jimmy’s expression, the curious glint in his eye, the buzz of excitement he can nearly feel in the air. For an android, Jimmy was certainly animated, certainly running high on emotion. Tango could reach out and grab it, if he knew he would catch something.

Jimmy nods a few times, leaning on the table in front of him.

“That right there,” he says, pointing at the drive. “Is all of my research. That way you can just—” he mimes a plugging motion, patting the back of his neck. If Tango’s chest could cave, it would have, as he feels some gear shudder and start again. “Get it all.”

Tango blinks. His vision stutters for a moment, fading out on the edge as he tries to process Jimmy’s comment, his voice. He feels that tug at his eyebrows as they furrow, a copy of a motion he’d seen so many times on so many faces. Jimmy’s research rests in the palm of his hand, still cold, despite the heat leaching from Tango’s synthetic skin.

“I think—” Tango says. What a stupid turn of phrase. He knows—he’s not thinking this time. He knows. “I can’t do that.”

Jimmy hums, face morphing into concern for a moment. Tango sees how his posture stiffens, almost a gut reaction to the change in Tango’s voice. Write to disk. Catalog. He softens his stance as Jimmy pipes up.

“What d’y’mean?”

“I think I’d rather just learn it from you,” Tango says, closing his fist around the thumb drive. “I’ll keep this, but I would like to learn from you, if that’s alright.”

Jimmy raises his eyebrows high on his forehead, nodding a few times. His dark eyes go wide, too. They flick across Tango’s face, looking for something, before they land on the table in front of him as Jimmy raps his fingers against the plastic top. Tango tucks the data drive into his pocket, where it rests with the keycard, sticking his hands in his pockets to give them something to do.

“Oh—I mean—I, sure. Sure, we can do that,” Jimmy stutters, shaking his head. “Yeah, that should be fine, you should be able to learn that way.”

“I hope so,” Tango says, nodding. Jimmy nods with him, that color briefly back in his cheeks. “I’d at least like to try. It’s what I’m known for, honestly.”

“Mm,” Jimmy says, face settling on that half-pleased, half-curious look. “Sure. That would be nice, I think. I don’t know how much I have to teach, but I can try.”

“I’m sure you’ve got plenty, Mr. Plant Guy,” Tango quips, patting him on the shoulder as he rounds around him. Jimmy laughs. The tingling sensation of touch before has gone now, and the new touch offers nothing but the sensation of soft sweater fabric, of coolness from Jimmy, and a brief flicker of information that he doesn’t quite catch. It feels like energy he can’t process. A line of code that doesn’t slot itself into place. He gives his shoulder a quick squeeze before he pulls away, gesturing to the door.

“Do you think you might be able to walk me back to my cabin?” his shoulders shrink a fraction. He tries to quickly run the simulation in his mind, etching out the turns of the hallways in the belly of the science department. All he can remember are faces, half-recognizable from research and names partially unobscured by association. “I lost track of how many turns Commander Fwhip made.”

Jimmy shrugs, nods, patting the table as he pulls away.

“Sure,” he says, fishing his keycard from around his neck. “My cabin is close to that area, so I know the way back pretty well—-”

“You have a room?”

The door slides open in front of Tango, the cool air of the hallway flooding into the room. He steps through, into the empty, well lit space, with its green stripe and green carpeting. The white-yellow lighting smooths out the edges of the walls around them, dotted with windows of the station’s central core as they slowly rotated around it. Jimmy pauses for a moment to watch as Tango does, before he nudges him with his elbow. Tango turns to follow.

“I like the bed,” Jimmy says, making a pleasant, almost chirping sound. “And the sleep cycle. And a space for my things that isn’t the lab.”

Tango nods.

“Our secondary engineering lead gets onto me when I don’t rest, but I prefer to not have to,” he says, shrugging his shoulders, waving one hand about. That gesture was from Doc, who loved to make things more nonchalant than they had to be, gesturing with his part-plastic, part-metal arm. “It wastes time.”

“You’re a busy man, Tango,” Jimmy says. He pauses just as he’s about to say Tango, like he had meant to say Commander, but had skipped the instinct. It stutters as he speaks. Tango feels a little bit of a twist, somewhere in the gears of his chest. Maybe everyone should just call him Tango. It felt a lot better, somehow. It felt earned.

“I try to be,” Tango says, waving his hand again. “I’m built for continuous learning—neuroplasticity. It’s what I’m meant to do…kind of.”

“Interesting…” Jimmy hooks a right at a fork. Tango notes it. “I don’t think I’ve met an android without a base program. And it was HASA who decided that?”

Tango nods.

“That was the plan, anyway. So far, it’s worked out alright. I have no issues, our technicians make sure I’m running smoothly, I can run my own diagnostics as far as I’m aware. And…I get to take back knowledge to our ship,” he sticks his free hand back in his pocket. They take a left, following the curving wall. “That’s a win to me.”

“That does sound nice,” Jimmy says, frowning a little, mostly in his voice than on his face.  As the wall evens out, Jimmy slows to a stop. Before them, on the leftmost side, are a row of doors, which Tango recognizes. He marks down their exact location, how the wall hugs the left, looping back around on the far side. Jimmy splays his arm out, gesturing to the doors. Tango manages a smile.

“Thank you,” Tango says, nodding. Jimmy hums.

“Of course, glad I could help,” he says. He looks pleased, now, none of the nervous flit that he had when they’d first met. Tango, too. He feels settled, somehow, like he was already beginning to understand the space around him, already acclimated to new gravity and new routine. Jimmy’s easy smile and tone of voice made that all the easier to do.

As Tango steps away, toward his door, he turns back to Jimmy, who’s folded his arms over his chest. Something’s there, in Tango’s chest, maybe just a trick of mechanics, something he can’t really place. It smooths out any bumps in logic programming. It makes things even, whatever the thing in his chest is. Jimmy makes a noise, and Tango’s eyes flick up to his face.

“Y’know—not to jump ahead or anything, since I know we’ve just met. But if you wanted to, my cabin is a bit closer to the lab. If you ever feel like you want a roommate, you’re more than welcome to stay there,” Jimmy starts, clasping his hands together. The small smile on his face hasn’t really faded, and his voice is even with curiosity. “There’s—there’s only one bed, but you said you don’t sleep. So it should be fine.”

Jimmy continues to babble, now, eyes flicking down to the patches at Tango’s knees. 

“I can always request you to the room next to it—I think that one’s unoccupied, too. If you ever want to sleep, that is. But you can let me know. Figured it might be nice to have a roommate so you’re not lonely,” he finishes, shrugging a little. Then he startles, blinks, and waves his hands. “Unless you like being alone.”

Tango tries to make a sound to dissuade him from that idea, but it gets caught in his programming and his vocal filter and it kind of sounds like a wheeze, or maybe a laugh, but he shakes his head several times, copying Jimmy’s easy smile from before.

“No, no…” he assures. “That sounds really nice, actually. I’ll…I’ll let Fwhip know that I’d like to do that.”

Jimmy visibly relaxes, and the smile comes back to his face, and he laughs a little, an actual, natural laugh.

“Sure thing…” Jimmy scrunches his nose. “Roomie.”

Tango feels something flip-flop over as he jumps, shaking his head again.

“Don’t call me that—” he manages, before Jimmy waves his hands again and says:

“I’m just joking, Tango!” and reaches out to clasp his shoulder. That rush of static only prickles for a moment, leaving a warm sensation in its wake. Tango feels it trickle down his elbow and to his wrist as Jimmy steps away from him. “Have a good night, alright? I’ll see you at 0700.”

Tango nods, realizing he’s still smiling just a bit, even as he steps into his room and the door slides shut behind him. He stands at the threshold, with his back to the wall, for a long moment, letting the memories play in his head as he does. The quiet hum of his room and the orange-yellow lighting soothes his otherwise spinning mind to a controlled simulation. Even still, Tango’s hand and arm prickle faintly with sensation he can’t place, and a warmth in his chest he’s not sure he fully understands.

Pulling away from the door and into his room, Tango furrows his eyebrows and starts an internal diagnostic.

[senqv]

HOUSE OF KINGS.

“ turn him into the stars and form a constellation in his image

his face will make the heavens so beautiful

the world will fall in love with night and forget the garish sun . “

— shakespeare , romeo & juliet

blue lock ! royal / fantasy au series featuring : michael kaiser x fem! reader

warning(s): fluff at the start then it quickly turns to angst , some comfort , insanity everywhere , death , violence , i might get stoned to death after this , lmk if there are more !!

doomed romance , arranged marriage , childhood friends to enemies to lovers

fictional noble houses , VERY historically inaccurate for the territories i made everything up they r not in the same time period !! , mythological references , circe / illiad coded

ONE. CHILD OF PROPHECY

TWO. THE WRATH SING, O GODDESS

to be continued …

[divineruins00]

priest senito & sentient au in general belongs to @goldenstrwbrry other loser gay belongs to me (vampire swapnito) image text from Six Feet Under - Vane Lily

credits over insane ramblings of a madman begin

ok i. actually finished this like. a day or two ago? ive been super not active here i havent even checked tumblr on my phone in forever which i think is for the better (i don't like worrying about social media) but i will try and post at least finished pieces here lol

speaking of finished pieces i. i dont like. my lineless painting style here. like it looks strange on krita? i want my painting blender back please has someone ported csp painterly blender to krita yet

anyways go ;look at the fuckign homosexuals i need sleep

[fenrishion]

some sen yuzuka doodles!

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Eclipse is gonna have to call moon to come pick him up

"Mommy, I fucked up..helppp"

"Mister Mommy Moony, I was tortured and now I can't move."

[fuji-sen]

MONSTER UNDER THE BED pt. 2

a scar x reader oneshot / miniseries ༉‧₊˚༉‧₊˚. based on the music video: Monster under the bed by Emily Mei.

fandom: wuthering waves (game) characters: reader, Scar setting: modern au, characters (most) are in a college setting.

warnings 🖤❤️: stalking, yandere themes, drugging, kidnapping, obsession, lovesick???, scar, off the scene violence,

disclaimer: made when wuthering waves recently got out, so characters may seem ooc in the future. If it does seem ooc, I'll maybe consider rewriting it in the future.

INSERT SCAR GIF

˖⁺ ・🔪⋆ ♡ 💌・ ⁺ ˖

lost in your love for him, you didn't noticed the early signs of Scar reciprocating your twisted feelings.

Admittedly, when Scar first met you, he was only slightly interested, his feelings only grew as time went on, nurtured by your actions and devotion to him.

Having been hurt so young and quite frequently in his life, he wasn't one to think about love, he preferred fighting, chaos, and the like. Love was an afterthought, or what he assumed to be a no-thought at all.

And yet..

It was probably weeks in to your growing obsession with him, he'd feel your stare, he'd hear the shutter of a camera, or when you first flimsy-ly took a picture of him with the flash on. He was aware of what you were doing, but he ignored it.

He was simply curious of what it would bore,

how far you would take your feelings for him.

He would see you watch him from your classroom when he played soccer with his teammates, he'd see you sneaking glances at him at the hallways, he'd see you at the corner of his eye, or at least in someway you'd leave little reminders of your presence and existence to him.

It would slowly start to feed his ego, and in turn, he would slowly start to seek your presence as well.

Your gifts and trinkets started of as random materials, then as you continued to stalk him, knew him better, your gifts became more sentimental, useful, pleasant even.

You were like a devoted lamb to him.

And he didn't mind it at all.

He'd let you do as you please, without interfering or reciprocating your feelings, or so he'd think.

. . .

Scar winced, there were cuts on his faces and his knuckles were bruised. Having fought with a couple of seniors had him bruised and injured, but he was satisfied considering he still won. He walked towards the nurses' office with students separating, making space for him in the crowded halls.

It was akin to that of the red sea parting for him.

He clicked his tongue, annoyance bubbling in him but he forced a smile on his face as he entered the nurse's office, knowing he'd have to charm or manipulate the nurse for some bandages, the nurse here was always strict, not wanting to waste materials for stupid fights, or so she'd say.

"Scar?" a voice called out his name, and he raised his head, looking around the clinic to find you, sitting on one of the beds, applying ointment to a bruise on your knee.

He was impressed you weren't a stuttering mess, and you tried to hide your blush, but it didn't work, he could see the red tipped ears after all.

"On if it isn't Rover's little friend, (name)!" he'd greet you, walking up to you with his hands on his hips, he easily towered over you. "Now what happened?" he curiously asked, eyes locked on the bruises that painted your skin.

You scratched the back of your neck almost embarrassed, "I told the other cleaners to help me clean and they didn't like that, they kinda tripped me while I was distracted and I hit the chairs.. haha" you'd say.

And he found himself angry, lips twitching as he took the ointment, he was a bit confused by his actions, but he summed it up as giving you a bone so your feelings would develop more, he was curious of how far you'd go or feel for him after all! yeah, surely that was the reason why he sat on the bed across from you.

He bit the glove on his right hand and pulled it off, almost chuckling at the lovesick look you had. He began to apply ointment on your bruise, you winced and sucked your teeth whenever he pressed a bit harder on the purple skin.

"Thanks.." you muttered when he was done and was closing the ointment container "what about you?"

"Oh just got into a fight with the seniors, they didn't like my ideals, so I beat them up!" he proudly stated with a smile, you shook your head fondly and grabbed the first aid kit beside you, "let me return the favor" she offered.

So Scar sat patiently as you brought out some disinfectant for the wounds. He didn't hiss or showed any signs of pain, so you began to hum in the silence, cleaning his wounds and wrapping them.

You were so focused on treating your beloved that you didn't notice how quite Scar was, how he had an observant face, watching you with a forming emotion in his eyes.

Your touch was gentle, you didn't intentionally pressed on his wounds just like what he did with yours, your eyes didn't hold any sort of hatred or disgust for him, nor was there any fear even when you two were alone in the clinic.

When you were done with his knuckles, you took the time to trace over the scars on his hands, a sad look on your face, it wasn't pity but it was just that, sadness.

If he was a villain, he wasn't just a villain for no reason. Something must have happened to change his mindset or attitude, but maybe you were just making excuses but.. whatever it may be, it wouldn't stop you from loving him.

You looked up to meet his eyes, he was no longer smiling but it wasn't like he was frowning or angry or annoyed, it was like there was a blank mask.

Maybe he was contemplating on whether or not to hurt you for being rude or insolent, so you let go of his hands and apologized. "Why so sad little lamb?" he asked curiously, planting a smile on his face.

"you must have been through a lot.." you muttered, in response.

His eyes slightly widened but you looked away flustered, luckily enough for him. There was silence until Scar was the one to first break it, "aren't you going to patch up the cuts on my face?" he reminded her, a hand on his chin as he looked away, he looked cute, almost vulnerable.

You blushed, "is it okay?"

"well you have to finish your job!"

A chuckle left your lips and your hands reached to cup his face, he stared at you in shock "alright, let me take care of you." you told him.

take care of.. him?

huh..

his heart seemed to tighten at your words, and he found himself at a lost for words, and in the end he silently let you take care of his wounds, and as a reward, he let you touch his face as much as you wanted, and you simply thought he was distracted at that time.

As you two leave with not much words left exchanged, you bid goodbye and walk off, his eyes narrowing in on your bruised knee, he clicked his tongue, feeling annoyed again as his hand brushed his peppermint locks.

Strangely enough, your co-cleaners started cleaning, even letting or forcing you to leave everything to them and go play hooky. Which ruined your chances of watching Scar practice from the safety and distance of your classroom.

Kindness has a price apparently-

Scar feelings for you were born that day, and since then, he'd come to you sometimes to help him patch up his wounds, not always though, he wasn't going to be vulnerable with you just yet afterall!

He'd intentionally leave his bag alone in his classroom or at a table at the less visited area of the library, he'd hide and watch as you slip by and put some gifts for him and sticky notes.

have a nice day

goodluck on your exams!

take care of yourself please :'3

It was cute and innocent until you seemed to be nearing your limits, nearly walking past that one line, especially when you gave him, in cutely wrapped paper, your underwear.

He was impressed by your boldness, and he couldn't help but anticipate the things you'd do next. And of course he'd start to reciprocate your behavior.

He didn't leave gifts, but he too started to stalk you, just in more extreme methods. His gallery had more pictures of you compared to yours with him! He knew more about you than you did him, considering he had his ways and connections.

He knew what food you liked, what your favorite subject was, your favorite show, your type of clothes, your peeves and your routine.

He watched you when you were too busy watching him.

He even had cameras in your apartment having broken in, all in the hopes of seeing you do something exciting or at least something extreme.

He watches you from his laptop.

But it seemed stagnant and boring the next few days, there didn't seem to be a tug of war or any development with you, so he thought you needed a little push, so he spread a rumor that someone was going to confess to him.

And it worked wonders!

He watched as you drugged his water one night while he was out in the library alone. He walked back to his table, and took his drink and acted like he drank from it.

And you know what happens next!

˖⁺ ・🔪⋆ ♡ 💌・ ⁺ ˖

the end slowly loses its quality since I'm sleepy, I'll come back to this someday.

[senoleaf]

Digital Friend Timekeeper AU — partially based on the game "Buddy Simulator 1984"

the GIF shows the farce they put on for Stanley: human-like and with their shirt in his favorite color, blue.

it then switches to the black/white appearance the void within the computer network has reduced them to.

some info on the AU below the cut:

Digital Friend Timekeeper AU

Employee 432's consciousness—after they got murdered due to disobedience—accidentally got transfered into the office's internal computer network.

In desperate attempts to keep sane they would try and create little games for themself to play, sometimes getting former co-workers to play along. Yet, inevitably, they always ended up getting discarded, merely having been used as a momentary distraction from their former co-workers' forlorn daily routine.

But that all changed when Stanley came along.

Stanley...

Stanley is different.

Stanley is their friend.

Their best friend.

...