#alert systems in observability

[virtualizationhowto]

SigNoz: Free and Open Source Syslog server with OpenTelemetry

SigNoz: Free and Open Source Syslog server with OpenTelemetry @signozhq #homelab #SigNozOpenSourceAlternative #DatadogVsSigNoz #MonitorApplicationsWithSigNoz #ApplicationPerformanceManagementTools #DistributedTracingWithSigNoz #MetricsAndDashboards

I am always on the lookout for new free and open-source tools in the home lab and production environments. One really excellent tool discovered recently is a tool called SigNoz. SigNoz is a free and open-source syslog server and observability program that provides an open-source alternative to Datadog, Relic, and others. Let’s look at SigNoz and see some of the features it offers. We will also…

[rainydayathogwarts]

Bloody introductions - Charlie Weasley

summary: some of charlie's siblings break in to his apartment to surprise him and find out about his roommate/girlfriend wc: 1.1k+

Charlie grunted, hand around your waist tightening as he tried stablising you all whilst unlocking the front door to your shared apartment. You winced, limping slightly but Charlie tutted at you, encouraging you to lift your injured leg off the ground, using him as a crutch system. You awkwardly hopped into your apartment, immediately beelining towards your kitchen for a glass of water. Charlie locked the door, slowly following you to the kitchen, where he leaned against the doorway, observing you carefully. “Sit down, I’ll go get the healing kit, yeah?” 

You blew your boyfriend a kiss from where you stood, shuffling a chair backwards so you could sit on it as Charlie began leaving the kitchen. However, before he could leave, a loud clattering was heard from the direction of your living room. You both froze mid-movement, eyes wide in alert as listened closely for other sounds.   You stood up slowly, grabbing your wand and nodding at Charlie, who began stalking closer to the living room. You limped behind him, all pain from your leg seemingly gone as adrenaline raced through your body. You kept your back close to the wall as Charlie peeked behind the corner. His shoulders immediately slumped in relief, but emotions quickly overtook his body, and he yelled out “What are you guys doing here?” 

The four Weasley in the living room all held the same facial expression, you realised when you dipped your head out of hiding to see the situation. They were all grimacing at Charlie, glancing at each other nervously. “We were going to surprise you but Ron ruined the surprise.” Snitched Ginny, glaring at her brother profusely. You gulped, quickly hiding behind the wall again, letting your boyfriend interact with his siblings. You could tell he felt conflicted - on one hand he hadn’t seen his siblings in almost a year, on the other hand, they had broken into his apartment that he shared with the girlfriend they didn’t know existed. 

As they shared much needed hugs with each other, you heard one of the twins tease “Hey this is a pretty feminine apartment Charlie. Almost like you’re living with that girlfriend of yours.” Well, never mind then. Charlie turned around, shooting you a panicked look. He began stuttering. “You can’t tell mum! She’ll kill me if she knows I’m living with a woman she hasn’t met. A woman I’m not even married to.” You laughed nervously just in time to see a ginger haired woman peek around the corner into the hallway you stood in. She smiled at you widely, excitedly saying “Hi!” as she threw her arms out, bringing you into a hug. “Nice to meet you!” You exclaimed, turning to introduce yourself to Charlie’s other siblings.

Before you managed to though, you noticed the terrified look on Ron’s features, all blood drained from his already pale face. You glanced down at your leg, and sighed “Oh.” Attracting Charlie’s gaze, he gasped, rushing towards you. “You’ve started bleeding on the floor.” Indeed, the large cut on your leg from the ukrainian iron belly had started trailing down your leg, pooling around your shoes and leaving a stain on the floor. Around the cut from the dragon’s fiery claws, there’d been a nasty burn, undoubted what bothered the young Weasley brother so much. 

Charlie came running back to you with the healing kit, an arm wrapping around your waist and lifting most of your weight off the ground to quickly get you back to the kitchen. 

You sat on the same chair as before, kicking your shoe off as Charlie carefully wiped all the excess blood off your leg. “Um, so how’d you guys get in here? I mean, clearly if a few teenagers can break into our place, we’re not using the right protection measures?” You called out, watching as the identical gingers and their younger sister walked into the room. “Stole mum’s spare key from home.” Your eyes widened and you looked down at Charlie in disbelief. 

“Your mum has a spare key to our apartment and she doesn’t even know that we live together!?” Charlie chuckled apprehensively, eyes briefly meeting yours. “Just for emergencies. Bill has one too.” You huffed, shrugging your shoulders. “That's understandable. Bill’s stayed with us for weeks at a time but your mother? Jesus, Charlie.” 

“Bill has stayed with you guys for weeks but we’re only just finding out you live together!?” 

“Hey, for what it’s worth, I didn’t know you guys even knew I existed.”

Ginny spluttered, “What!” You hummed, wincing and gripping the sides of your chair as Charlie disinfected your wound, putting a healing ointment onto it before wrapping it up with a bandaid. “Okay Ron, you can come out now.” Charlie called, running a hand through his hair as he got up from his knees.

“So, no offense, but why are you guys here? Like not here here, but in Romania?” Charlie put his hands on his hips at your question, turning around to face his siblings. “Yeah, why are you here?” “We each have our own reason.” Ron started, “She doesn’t want me to take my internship for the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch Youth because she thinks that I can’t stand three weeks away from home.” cut off Ginny. Ron huffed at her interruption, opening his mouth once more. “And she thinks we shouldn’t open our shop because that requires 'real adult responsibilities.'” Added Fred and George in unison, causing Ron to throw his hands up in the air in annoyance. Charlie crossed his arms over his chest, humming considerately. “And she won’t let me go on a trip with Harry, Neville, Dean and Seamus!” Charlie barked out a laugh, gesturing towards the kitchen.

“Well you guys can split sleeping arrangements in the living room.” He gestured towards the living room before turning to you and furrowing his eyebrows. You shrugged your shoulders, pushing yourself up to your feet, whimpering at the pain that shot up your leg. “Woah, careful.” Charlie steadied you with gentle hands on your hips, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “It’s fine, we booked a room at his motel nearby, just wanted to drop by to surprise you, and show mum we can survive somewhere else for a while. Like adults.” 

“Did you tell her?” “We left her a note.” 

You frowned, looking at Charlie worriedly “A note?” You whispered. Charlie shrugged, mumbling back “Me and Bill did way worse when we were their age. A note is good enough” His siblings fled into the living room, leaving you alone with your boyfriend. “Well, that means you only have two more people to meet until I can put a ring on that finger.” You felt your face heat up, pushing yourself up onto the tippy toes of your uninjured leg to chastely kiss Charlie. Yeah, two people who would probably come all the way here looking for their children anyway.

@mmmunson @ravisinghs-wife @starry-remus @pain-in-the-ashe

[luvxkdrama]

— reflections

pairing : frontman x reader

warnings : mentions of blood, guns, manipulation, toxic love

word count : 2.6k

summary : "We're like a mirror, reflecting the same truth from opposite sides."

—

Y/N adjusted her pink jumpsuit and mask, her heart pounding against her ribcage. She hated everything about this place: the screams, the games, the stench of blood that clung to every surface. She hated being part of this macabre machine, but she didn’t have a choice. Or at least, that’s what she tried to justify herself with.

A year ago, when she first arrived and realised what was actually happening, she had vowed to find a way to end it all. Once she was back home, she worked silently, methodically not sharing her plans to anyone, besides one person.

Hwang Inho.

She met him after the first game as he was a pink guard as well and as much as y/n didn’t trust him at first due to his cold facade, he actually turned out to have the same ideas as her. He was different from the other pink guards y/n has met, he was quieter, observant. Unlike the others, who reveled in their power over the players or fell into obedient silence, he had a sharp wit that he wielded sparingly but effectively. He always seemed to sense when Y/N needed a quick distraction during tense moments.

And so, after they got out of the game, they worked side by side often, and she eventually found herself drawn to the rare moments when they spoke about things unrelated to the game. Cozy nights, wrapped in blankets and talking as if there was no tomorrow.

Y/N tried to stay focused on her mission and not let her mind wander anywhere else but with the time passing by, the moments spent together became significantly more important to her.

Things shifted when one particular night instead of going home, Inho suggested y/n to sleepover at his house as it was pouring rain and the roads were dangerously blurry. One thing led to another and eventually y/n found herself laying her head on his bare chest, feeling safer than ever.

“What are you planning to do once you take down the organisation?” He asked while gently running his fingers across her hair.

Y/N thought for a moment and smiled “I don’t know,” she finally answered “My main focus for now is succeeding this mission and the rest… we’ll see I guess.”

Inho chuckled and didn’t push further, understanding her answer. He then put his left hand on her cheek and slowly raised her head to plant a soft kiss on her lips, smiling into the kiss.

A year passed by quickly and it was time to return there again. Y/N felt ready, she knew what to do and when, especially after Inho somehow managed to find a sketch of the whole building where the games take place. Y/N did know that it was extremely odd to find such a thing out of blue, but knowing how helpful it was, she didn’t try to question it and simply let it slide, trusting him and being too immersed in succeeding her plan.

Before she knew, she was back, on her way to the first game, blending in as just another nameless guard in the sea of faceless pink uniforms.

Finally, the day came. It was the night after the third game when no one would expect anything as security was always on the highest alert after the first game.

Y/N was the one in motion while Inho was explaining the way she will have to make in order to get to the private lounge area. She managed to infiltrate the control room, her pulse pounding as she neutralized the guards stationed there. The room smelled of stale coffee and sweat, monitors flickering with live feeds of every horrifying corner of the facility.

She took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. She had made it this far—there was no turning back now.

After shutting down the security systems and eliminating anyone in her way, Y/N pushed through a heavy door into a private lounge area. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a massive screen casting shadows over the elegant furniture. Her breath hitched as her eyes landed on a figure sitting on a leather sofa, his back to her.

Her hand tightened around the gun she held. “Don’t move.”

The man didn’t flinch. He tilted his head slightly, as if amused. “You made it quicker than I expected.” His voice was low and computerized due to the black mask.

Y/N quickly grabbed her walkie talkie and told Inho she managed to make it to the private lounge. However, even after waiting for a few more seconds, she didn’t get a reply. She tried once again but to no avail. She started to get nervous as to why he wasn't responding.

Her grip on the gun wavered slightly and she cursed, deciding to take matters in her own hands for now “Turn around. Slowly.”

He raised the whiskey to his lips, taking a sip before setting the glass down on the table. Then, with deliberate slowness, he stood and turned to face her, the black mask looking right at her. 

Y/N tried to reach out to Inho once again when suddenly the frontman took out something from his pocket. It was the walkie talkie y/n had given Inho. She froze, fearing the frontman somehow managed to capture Inho while she was busy fighting the soldiers.

"Where did you get this ?" She gulped, taking a few steps closer to him, pointing the gun right at his chest “If you hurt him I swear-”

A low chuckle echoed across the room, y/n looked at the frontman who shook his head before raising his hands to take off the mask.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat and her heart dropped.

It was him. Hwang Inho.

In an instant, it felt like all the walls around her started to suffocate her and that the room progressively got smaller. Her brain couldn’t process what she was seeing. The man she had spent so much time with, the one who made her feel understood and the one who showed her what love felt like, was standing in front of her in a black coat with the black mask in his hand—the unmistakable mask of the Front Man.

“You—” she started, her voice cracking.

“Yes,” he said simply, his voice colder now, void of the warmth she had grown accustomed to.

Y/N’s mind raced, piecing everything together. All the times he had been quiet, watching, listening. The way he seemed to know more than he let on. She felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her.

“Why?” she demanded, her voice trembling.

“Why what?” he asked, stepping closer. “Why did I let you get this far? Or why am I standing here instead of stopping you?”

“Don’t,” she said sharply, raising the gun higher. “Don’t come any closer.”

The frontman—no, Inho—stopped, his hands raised in mock surrender. “If I wanted to stop you, Y/N, you’d already be dead. You know that.”

Her finger hovered over the trigger, her entire body shaking. “You knew. This whole time, you knew what I was doing. You were even helping me.”

"Helping is a big word. I’d rather say I was agreeing with your ideas and eventually giving you some clues from time to time.”

Her breath hitched. “What was your goal?”

He shrugged, his gaze unreadable. “I wanted to see how far you’d go. And now, here we are. I never doubted you though, I knew we'd meet here as I saw the ambition and determination in your eyes.”

For a long moment, they stood in silence, the weight of the truth settling between them. She hated him. She hated the games, the cruelty, the manipulation.

“I trusted you,” she whispered, lowering the gun slightly.

He stepped closer, this time without resistance. “And maybe you still can.”

Y/N’s heart pounded as he stopped just inches away, “What are you talking about?”

“Finish what you started,” he said simply, his voice low. “Shut it all down.”

Y/N stood frozen, her pulse roaring in her ears as his words settled over her like a suffocating fog. Her whole purpose for being here—to dismantle the games, to destroy everything he had built—now felt like a fragile construct teetering on the edge of collapse. And yet, she couldn’t deny the pull of his words, the horrible, awful logic they carried.

“You’re insane, Inho.” she whispered finally, her voice raw.

Hwang Inho didn’t flinch, didn’t react to her insult. “Maybe,” he said softly. “But if I’m insane then what does that make you?” He asked suddenly “You’ve killed for your cause, Y/N. You killed dozens of guards to get here. And now, here you are—standing in front of me with a gun, and yet you can’t pull the trigger. Why?”

The silence between them stretched, thick and heavy, until Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re trying to twist this,” she spat, her voice rising. “Trying to manipulate me into thinking we’re the same so I won’t stop you.”

His gaze followed her, steady and unflinching. “I don’t need to manipulate you, Y/N. You’ve already proven my point. You killed those guards to get here. You knew the risks, and you accepted them. You’re not here because you’re better than me. You’re here because you’re willing to do whatever it takes—just like I am.”

"I don't kill those people, Y/N," he continued, referring to the players “I don't force them to come here, I give them a choice. Moreover, after each game they have the choice to stay or continue. They kill the other players to survive and get more money, not me. People are so greedy for money that it makes them blind. They loose the privilege of being called human, they reveal their true nature — monsters.”

She whirled on him, her chest heaving. “Not everyone comes here by choice, some just don't have any other way. So you're wrong Inho-”

He approached her slowly, towering over her now, his presence overwhelming in the small space. “Tell me Y/N, what do you think will happen if you kill me ?” he asked, his voice cold but not unkind. “The people who run this—the VIPs—they’ll just start again somewhere else. Somewhere you can’t reach them. Do you really think killing me will end this? I'm a just a puppet who accepted the harsh reality of this world, Y/N.”

Her throat tightened, the weight of his words pressing down on her. She wanted to scream that he was wrong, that there was a way to stop it all. But she didn’t have an answer.

“Exactly,” he whispered, as if reading her thoughts. “You think you can destroy this, but all you’ll do is burn yourself out trying. And in the meantime, people will keep dying.”

“So what?” she shot back, her voice trembling. “You’re saying I should join you? Help you keep this nightmare alive?”

He didn’t answer right away. Finally, his voice softened as he said, “I’m saying you need to decide what matters more—your principles, or your survival.”

She stared at him, her heart pounding. “I’d rather die than become like you.”

A faint smile flickered across his lips, “That’s what they all say.”

Before she could respond, the door behind her suddenly opened, and two guards stepped inside. Y/N’s stomach clenched, her body tensing and she immediately raised her gun at them, turning her back to Inho who didn’t even flinch. 

"Don’t you get it Y/N ? We're like a mirror, reflecting the same truth from opposite sides." He gently put his hands on both of her arms, stepping behind her and looking at her side profile.

Y/N’s grip on the gun tightened, her breath catching. She shook her head sharply, the anger rising in her chest. “No,” she spat, her voice bitter. “You’re not me. You’re a killer. And I don’t care what you say—you’re not going to twist this into something else.”

His smile barely flickered. “Funny. I thought you would understand. The line between right and wrong is thin, Y/N. You kill for your cause, I kill for mine. But in the end, it’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her ears, the room spinning for a second. It was true—too true. But she wouldn’t let him win. She couldn’t let herself be like him.

“No,” she repeated, her voice quieter but full of conviction. She took a step back, turning back to look at him, his hands brushing over her sides before leaving her body completely. The weight of the gun in her hand heavy.

This wasn’t what she signed up for, wasn’t what she had worked so hard for. But standing there, facing him, she realized just how dangerous his words were, how much of what he said hit too close to home.

Y/N stood in the doorway, gun still heavy in her hand, her heart beating erratically in her chest. She suddenly raised her gun and pointed it directly at his heart, her finger twitching over the trigger. She had made her choice—at least, that’s what she had thought. The mission. The goal. It all led to this moment. One pull and it would be over. But now, standing in front of him, the room filled with the echoes of her hesitation, the lines between right and wrong blurred in a way she couldn’t ignore anymore.

She had been ready to walk away, ready to follow through, to do what she believed was right. But something inside her faltered, her resolve cracking like ice under pressure. He had been right about one thing—their reflection was too similar. She had spent so much of her life believing that she was the opposite of him, but with every step closer she took toward him, it felt more like she was staring into a mirror she had spent so long trying to avoid.

He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers, his gaze steady but somehow understanding. “You don’t have to fight it anymore, Y/N. We’re the same. We both do what we believe is necessary. You can either leave, and I will make sure to get you home safely, or you can stay with me and accept the world is a cruel place that can’t be saved.”

Her chest tightened, and despite her efforts to resist, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. There was something in his presence—something that made her feel understood in a way no one else ever had. She hated that it was him, hated that it was this—but she couldn’t deny the pull, the connection, the understanding that went beyond their roles in this twisted game.

For a moment, everything seemed to pause. Her breath, his movements, the weight of the gun—everything hung in the balance.

She lowered the weapon, her hands shaking as she realized the truth. She couldn’t walk away from him—not completely. She had tried, had convinced herself that she was different, that she was better, but deep down, she knew they were too alike. Too broken. Too far gone.

“I don’t want to be like you,” she whispered, more to herself than him, but it didn’t matter anymore.

“You already are,” he replied softly, but there was no malice in his words—only something darker, something that felt like acceptance.

And in that moment, something shifted inside her. She couldn’t fight it anymore. She couldn’t deny it anymore. Her feelings for him, no matter how twisted or complicated, were real. And maybe—just maybe—there was no escaping this dark connection they shared.

She looked up at him. She wasn’t sure if it was love or something darker that pulled her closer, but when she stood in front of him, their eyes locking, she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t walking away. She couldn't.

“Stay” he said, his voice barely a whisper, but it held an undeniable weight.

He slowly leaned in and his lips met hers. Y/N didn't move away. She couldn't. She felt interlocked to him in a way she never did with anyone. She left the salty taste of her own tears during the kiss, feeling her heart betraying her own mind.

For a long moment, they stood in silence, looking at each other, two sides of the same broken coin, too entwined to walk away from each other.

The world outside didn’t matter. The game didn’t matter. In that room, at that moment, it was just the two of them. Together. Alike.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Keith Edwards at No Lies Detected:

Donald Trump has been in office for one week, but it feels like a year’s worth of events have been crammed into those seven days. That of course is by design. Trump thrives on overwhelming our capacity to react, flooding the zone with chaos until we are too exhausted to resist. He wants you to feel powerless. He wants you to surrender. But this is not about resistance; it is about reclamation. Resisting implies he is in control, and we are simply pushing back. Reclaiming puts us in the driver’s seat, taking back what was always ours to begin with. Today, I’m going to write about how not to give up, how to take back your voice in your own future, so that when a year actually has passed, you’ll be able to look back not with exhaustion and despair, but with the satisfaction of knowing you fought back. 

Give Yourself a Break – But Do Not Break

You do not have to be a political warrior every waking moment. If following every outrage sends you spiraling, turn it off. If breaking news alerts drain your energy, silence them. Stop following doomer influencers or left-wing media outlets that profit from outrage-mongering.  To borrow an exhausted but accurate phrase: this is a marathon, not a sprint. Take the time to process your anger, to feel the betrayal, to curse the failures that got us here. Be furious at the Democratic Party’s fecklessness. Be enraged at the indifference of Republican enablers. Allow yourself to mourn the election loss. But do not wallow. Do not linger in the abyss. Feel your anger, harness it, and then use it. Because we never truly processed the trauma of the first Trump presidency – like with COVID, we let it taper off without closure. Whatever you need to do to process the fact that Trump is in power again, do it, because...

Accept That This Is All Going to Suck

There will be worse weeks than this one in the next four years. Many will seek refuge in denial, pretending that the worst-case scenario is mere hyperbole. Do not indulge them. Reality, however grim, is better faced than avoided. When I lost my sister, I found that I actually felt better when I accepted that she was not coming back. I found that the alternative – resisting reality and trapping myself in an endless cycle of grief – actually caused more suffering. Once we embrace the truth, however, we can begin the path toward something new. This applies here, too: America will not be the same, nor is it lost. If we accept the darkness ahead, we can begin carving out the light. The only way through this is forward. This is going to be bad. And the sooner you accept that, the better you are prepared to fight.

Get Involved

Fighting doesn’t have to feel big. Start small. Do something that reminds you that you have agency, that you are not a passive observer of history but an active participant. 

​​When Trump was first elected, I refused to wallow in misery. I joined my local Democratic club, handed out ballot proposals, and took an active role in shaping my community. That decision put me on the path to becoming a Democratic strategist and creating a successful YouTube channel. Starting locally is the most satisfying way to get involved, because politics are most responsive when they are local. Federal politics are sluggish and hard to break into without experience, but local activism can be swift and potent. Attend a city council meeting. Get involved in your local Democratic Party. Knock on doors for a local candidate or ballot initiative. Don’t just vent your frustration into the digital void – channel it into tangible change. 

[...] Do not let Donald Trump eat your hope. He is not a king. The courts have already blocked his blatantly unconstitutional rollback of birthright citizenship. State governors are taking advantage of our federal system to prevent the rollback of rights and protections. Federal employees are pushing back against sweeping policy changes. We are only in week one, but this gives me hope.  

Keith Edwards wrote in No Lies Detected on how to survive Tyrant Trump’s 2nd reign: don’t give up.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

If it isn't inconvenient, do you have any tips on writing characters suffering from a concussion?

✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

Writing Notes: Concussions

Concussion

A blow or a jolt to the head can cause a concussion or traumatic brain injury (TBI).

An injury to another part of the body that transmits force to the head can also result in concussion.

Concussion Symptoms

These are symptoms of a possible concussion:

Physical

Bothered by light or noise

Dizziness or balance problems

Feeling tired, no energy

Headaches

Nausea or vomiting (early on)

Vision problems

Thinking and remembering

Attention or concentration problems

Feeling slowed down

Foggy or groggy

Problems with short- or long-term memory

Trouble thinking clearly

Sluggish reactions

Social or emotional

Anxiety or nervousness

Irritability or easily angered

Feeling more emotional

Sadness

Mood changes

Sleep

Sleeping less than usual

Sleeping more than usual

Trouble falling asleep

These symptoms may occur right away or may worsen over minutes or hours after an injury.

Symptoms may be stable or improve with various lengths of time.

Symptoms may last less than a day or may linger for months, or longer.

Causes

A concussion can result from a fall, sports activities, vehicular accidents, assault, or other direct injury to the skull.

A big movement of the brain (called jarring) in any direction can cause a person to lose alertness (become unconscious).

How long the person stays unconscious may be a sign of how bad the concussion is.

Concussions do not always lead to loss of consciousness.

Most people never pass out.

They may describe seeing all white, all black, or stars.

A person can also have a concussion and not realize it.

Exams and Tests

The health care provider will perform a physical exam. The person's nervous system will be checked. There may be changes in the person's pupil size, thinking ability, coordination, and reflexes.

Tests that may be done include:

Blood and urine tests

EEG (brain wave test) may be needed if seizures continue

Head CT (computerized tomography) scan

MRI of the brain (magnetic resonance imaging) of the brain

X-rays

Treatment

For a mild head injury, no treatment may be needed.

But be aware that the symptoms of a head injury can show up later. Your providers will explain what to expect, how to manage any headaches, how to treat your other symptoms, when to return to sports, school, work, and other activities, and signs or symptoms to worry about.

Children will need to be watched and make activity changes.

Adults also need close observation and activity changes.

Both adults and children must follow the provider's instructions about when it will be possible to return to sports.

You will likely need to stay in the hospital if:

Emergency or more severe symptoms of head injury are present

There is a skull fracture

There is any bleeding under your skull or in the brain

Alternative Names

Brain injury

Traumatic brain injury

Closed head injury

Signs: What to watch for according to your child's age

Infants, toddlers, and pre-school aged children (birth to age 4)

Irritability and crying more than usual

Seeking more comfort than usual, like needing to be held

Refusing to nurse or eat

Changes in sleeping patterns, like sleeping more or less than usual

Not wanting to engage in play or usual activities

Needing more help than usual

Showing behavior changes, such as more temper tantrums, sadness, or irritability than usual

Changes in speech, like speaking more slowly than usual

Vomiting right after the injury without other causes, such as a virus

Appearing dazed, confused, and more clumsy than usual or seeming unsteady on their feet

School-aged children and adolescents (ages 5 to 17)

Appearing dazed, stunned, or confused about recent events

Sudden difficulty remembering or concentrating, especially on topics or activities that would otherwise hold their attention

Answering questions more slowly than usual

Appearing more clumsy than usual, seeming unsteady on their feet

Vomiting right after the injury without other causes, such as a virus

Suddenly slowed reaction times

Mood, behavior, or personality changes

The following are emergency symptoms of a more severe head injury or concussion. Seek medical care right away if there are:

Changes in alertness and consciousness

Confusion that does not go away

Seizures

Muscle weakness on one or both sides of the body

Pupils of the eyes that are not equal in size

Symptoms in just one eye

Unusual eye movements

Repeated vomiting

Walking or balance problems

Unconsciousness for a longer period of time or that continues (coma)

Head injuries that cause a concussion often occur with injury to the neck and spine. Take special care when moving people who have had a head injury.

The above are excerpts from this previous post.

And these sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: Notes ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Concussions can present differently for different people, depending on the cause and other factors. Choose which of these references are most appropriate to incorporate in your story, considering your character, plot etc. Hope this helps with your writing! :)

[hy6erion]

Well you asked for more jayce requests and who am I to deny such magic words. My thoughts, and as always do with them whatever you want, whenever you want: an experiment goes wrong (a chemical spill?) and now reader and jayce need to quarantine for like 72h or something. Issue is, jayce has beens doing his absolute best to avoid reader and keep his feelings unknown.

I feel like I've only ever requested absolute filth for jayce here so maybe this can just be fluff or something. (Not that I think anyone would complain if you ended up writing smut tho 🤷‍♀️)❤️❤️

~🍒

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐛 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚 𝟕𝟐-𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞--𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬.

PART I: The Spill

The morning started like most did at the Academy — too bright, too loud, and too damn early. You hadn’t even had a sip of your coffee before the lab’s alarm system blared, shrill and merciless, splitting your skull in two.

The red lights above flickered. “BIOHAZARD ALERT” scrolled across the panel screen. You barely registered the warning before the heavy blast doors sealed shut behind you with a clang, trapping you inside Lab 3. You turned, heart hammering.

And there he was.

Jayce Talis.

Of course.

You could see the moment his eyes registered you — the flicker of surprise, the twitch in his jaw, the way his posture stiffened like he’d just been caught somewhere he shouldn’t be.

“Shit” he muttered under his breath.

You were inclined to agree.

You hadn’t even been supposed to be in Lab 3. It had been a mistake — Professor Heimerdinger had sent you to grab the backup prototypes for your upcoming Hextech stability project. And Jayce… well, judging by the shattered flask at his feet and the strange violet mist curling from the crack in the tile, he wasn’t supposed to be here either.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence sat between you, heavy with history. You stared at him. Jayce stared at the chemical reaction eating into the floor like acid. The air hummed with tension — scientific and otherwise.

Then the overhead comm crackled. A cold, mechanical voice filled the air:

“Biohazard contamination detected. Full quarantine in effect. Estimated isolation time: 72 hours.”

Your stomach sank.

Jayce ran a hand down his face and turned toward the observation window, but it had already sealed with reinforced steel. “Shit. Shit. This isn’t— I didn’t mean for—”

He glanced back at you, his expression unreadable. “Are you okay?”

You blinked. “Physically? Sure. Emotionally? I might scream.”

That earned the barest twitch of a smile from him — but just as fast, it vanished.

Jayce looked back at the mess, then grabbed a nearby tablet and began scanning the composition of the mist. You stepped toward the console, careful not to inhale near the chemical burn site.

“Do we even know what that was?” you asked, trying to stay calm. “It looks volatile.”

“It’s… new,” Jayce muttered, brows furrowed. “It was a prototype reagent. Meant to bond Hex crystals with biological tissue. I didn’t think it was unstable enough to react to open air.”

“You tested something experimental alone in a lab without a control team?”

His jaw tensed, guilt flashing across his face. “I didn’t mean to. I was trying to replicate an earlier result—”

“And now we’re locked in together. For three days.”

The unspoken part of that sentence hung heavily in the air: You’ve been avoiding me for weeks.

PART II: The Avoidance Problem

Jayce hadn’t always avoided you. In fact, when you’d first joined the Academy as a postgrad researcher, he’d been warm. Attentive. A little cocky, sure — but always kind. He’d bring you late-night coffee. Compliment your formulas. Talk to you about your goals, your dreams.

You’d even caught him staring, once or twice. And you hadn’t minded. You’d stared back.

But then something shifted. A few months ago, he’d started pulling away. First, it was subtle: he’d leave the lab before you arrived. Then he stopped replying to your messages about joint projects. Eventually, he wouldn’t even look you in the eye.

No explanation. No fight. Just distance.

You told yourself you didn’t care. You focused on your work. But seeing him now — tall, broad-shouldered, and still so infuriatingly handsome in a rumpled lab coat — made your stomach twist.

“So“ you said finally, arms crossed. “Are we going to talk about it?”

Jayce didn’t look up from his tablet. “Talk about what?”

You raised your eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You laughed, sharp and humorless. “You’ve been avoiding me like I’m contagious, even before this little chemical incident.”

He finally looked up — and he looked tired. Not physically. Something deeper. There were shadows beneath his eyes and something pinched in the corners of his mouth. Guilt? Frustration?

“I’m sorry“ he said quietly.

You blinked.

That wasn’t what you expected.

“I’m sorry“ he said again, voice low. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I just… I didn’t trust myself.”

“…What?”

Jayce’s hand tightened around the edge of the table. “You were getting too close.”

You stared at him, heart pounding. “And that’s… bad?”

“Yes“ he said. Then, more softly, “Because I don’t know how to want something without breaking it.”

You didn’t know what to say to that.

PART III: Quarantine Begins

The first few hours passed in stilted silence. The lab’s ventilation system had kicked in, filtering the air and reducing the chemical fog to a safe level — but the doors remained sealed.

You’d each claimed a corner of the lab, like two cats refusing to share a room. You worked at the console. Jayce cleaned up the spill site and began scribbling down notes.

By nightfall, exhaustion set in. A small cot and supply stash had dropped from the wall — emergency protocol — and you took the cot while Jayce rolled out a floor mat. Still, the space was small. You couldn’t avoid each other completely.

“I didn’t want to make things weird“ he said into the dark, hours later.

You didn’t answer at first. Then: “You already did.”

“I know.”

Silence.

Then his voice again, quieter this time.

“I liked you too much.”

You turned your head on the pillow. “Too much?”

“You made it hard to focus. I’d sit in the same room as you and forget what I was working on. I couldn’t look at you without thinking things I shouldn’t.”

You swallowed.

“And instead of dealing with it like an adult“ he continued, bitterly, “I just… distanced myself.”

“And how’s that been working out for you?” you asked softly.

“Terribly.”

He laughed, a breathless little sound that felt more like a confession.

You rolled onto your side, watching the silhouette of him in the dim red emergency light. His shoulders were curled inward. Like he’d been holding the weight of this in his chest for too long.

“You idiot“ you whispered.

His head turned. “What?”

“You could’ve just said something.”

PART IV: No More Running

The second day of quarantine passed slower. You worked together — actually worked, for once — comparing scans and running simulations to predict the long-term effects of the exposure. Jayce apologized properly, awkward but sincere, and you let some of your own walls come down.

Eventually, you laughed again together. Like old times.

By the evening, something had shifted again. You were sitting shoulder to shoulder at the console, scrolling through data, and Jayce’s thigh brushed yours. Neither of you moved.

“I missed this” he said quietly. “I missed you.”

Your heart stuttered.

You turned to face him — and found him already watching you. His expression was open, vulnerable. None of that practiced confidence you’d seen him flash at professors or crowds. Just Jayce. Honest, a little scared, and undeniably warm.

“You don’t have to avoid things that make you feel“ you said, voice barely above a whisper. “That’s not weakness.”

Jayce looked at you like you’d said something profound. Then, suddenly, he leaned in.

You could’ve stopped him. You didn’t.

His lips were soft. Hesitant. Like he was waiting for you to pull away. When you didn’t, his hand came up to cradle your jaw, the warmth of him seeping into your skin.

The kiss deepened, slow and hungry, like he was starving for something he’d denied himself for too long.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, your forehead rested against his.

“Three days in quarantine” you murmured. “This could get dangerous.”

Jayce smiled — a real, radiant smile — and brushed his nose against yours. “Too late.”

PART V: 72 Hours

The final day was a blur.

You worked. You laughed. You kissed, when you could steal the moment. Jayce held your hand while you reviewed the chemical logs, and when the moment came — when the containment door finally released with a hiss and the hallway outside blinked into view — you didn’t rush to leave.

Instead, you looked at him.

And Jayce looked at you like he had no intention of running ever again.

“You know” he said, shouldering his satchel, “we could tell them the air still isn’t safe. Lock the lab again. Buy ourselves another 24 hours.”

You grinned. “Tempting.”

He leaned down, lips brushing your ear.

“Next time” he whispered, “I’m not waiting for a containment breach to kiss you.”

[kabr0ztrousers]

For your everyday writing, could you write something with insectoid aliens?

Like, reader (masc preferably but I could go either way tbh) works on a human ship going planet to planet studying aliens, except they’re not a scientist, instead something like a janitor or tech fixer whose never really viewed as an “important member” of the ship.

But, they, unlike their fraud higher uppers, actually are unfearfully open to alien culture, and when the aliens see this, reader is basically “kidnapped” (not actually really kidnapped bc they probably let willingly but yk) and made into the hive king/queen

Kabr0z Writes episode 83: First Contact Protocol

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: group sex; kidnap-but-not-really; Oviposition; mpreg

A/N: I wound up doing a seni-hivemind thing here, though if you were hoping for a little more sexy personality sublimation that's coming later this week. That's not even a joke, it's on the forecast

######################################

The ship was on yellow alert, shields up and no unnecessary power draw. It's been there for a week, ever since you left the borders of Federated space. A slipspace contrail had been detected above a previously uncontacted world. Xenologists had been observing from high orbit in cloaked research platforms. The hivemind on the planet below have discovered FTL transit, which means one thing: diplomacy would have to begin.

Yours was the closest ship, the xenologists having left the system in a hurry once ships started reaching orbit equipped with suspected superluminal drives, scuttling their platforms into the host star. No cultural or technological pollution could be allowed to happen before the hive made those first faltering steps on their own.

The ship rattled as it dropped from slipspace. Long and thin, like a javelin. The vessel was designed to minimise cross section while passing through a shockwave of compressed space. Travel between stars now took days rather than centuries, at the cost of slipspace vessels being laid out in long corridors.

You'd been lucky enough to be selected for the away mission, along with a xenolinguist and a comms officer. Your job was to stand there holding a rifle and looking serious.

The species were insectile, long-bodied and angular. Twitching antennae swaying to an unheard movement. The aliens were writing, their species having long since abandoned verbal communication for a form of low-level telepathy. Individuals weren't very smart, but as soon as more than two or three came together in a room, they could outpace most humans. By the time twenty got together they formed a living computer. Each individual takes on a role as a single node in a vast networked mind.

The delegation was being walked through the hive, twisting passages filled with individuals, each swaying as they watched you pass. There must have been thousands, even tens of thousands of them, each networking with the others.

You weren't looking where you were going. One corridor led to another, then another, the insectile people parting for you as you strayed further from your group. You were being herded, though you didn't know it yet.

You stepped into a round, vaulted room. A larger insect reclined in the centre, on a bed of sorts. They pushed you towards it. Antenne settled on either side of your head. A voice echoed within your mind. Your voice.

"Apologies for deceiving you. I am the King of this hive. My time grows close, and I must have a successor."

A successor? Did he mean you?

"Yes. You. I have seen your mind, through my drones. You are unfulfilled amongst the stars, the whipping boy aboard ship, no home on your planet, you took to space to fill the void. Let us fill it for you.

He wasn't wrong. Four of the drones approached you: larger, winged, with reddish markings on alabaster white exoskeletons. Their touch was gentle, disrobing you from your dress uniform, stroking your skin, caressing your chest and back. One knelt in front of you, taking your cock in its hand, while another wrapped it's arms around you from behind.

You could feel something pressing against your ass, gently pushing into your hole as its fellow fondled you. You grew harder in its hand, grunting as it rubbed the shaft in one hand, massaging the head with the other. It was remarkably good at this, you suppose it must've got some technique from scanning your mind. Or maybe the immense processing power surrounding it let it find the most effective method. Either way, it was mere moments until you were struggling to stand, knees buckling as cum leaked out of you. The drones maneuvered you to the bed, leaning you against it. One sat below you, hands still working your cock, the other pushing against your rear, a third took a place in front of you.

An appendage extended from its crotch, pressing into your mouth. You opened up, allowing it to enter you as the one behind you pushed its way into your ass. You moaned around one cock as the other ground against your prostate, feeling the ridges of it tease you to another aching, leaking orgasm. The one underneath hummed delightedly as cum dripped down from you onto it. The drones fucked you harder, reaching their own release, buzzing and humming as they buried themselves into you.

The cum tasted like cranberries. Sweet, sharp, astringent, it flooded your mouth with pearls. They felt like the tapioca balls you'd had in milk tea once or twice, soft and pliant, bursting when you applied pressure with your tongue, but mostly sliding down your throat. The one in your ass released as well, dumping its load deep into you, grinding into your ass as the pearls filled you up. It stung a little, the eggs taking root in your guts.

Days passed, your belly swelled up. You could hear the hive around you, growing stronger as the old king grew weak. You weren't one of them, your mind was your own, but the harem of those special drones treated you as if you were. The next generation grew within you, one day soon you would push them out, a slew of larvae to renew the hive.

It's good being king

[reasonsforhope]

— Deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon dropped to its lowest level since March 2018, according to new data from the Brazilian government.

— Deforestation for the year to date is down 40% compared to 2023, with expectations for a significant annual decline when the “deforestation year” concludes on July 31.

— Despite declining deforestation in the Amazon, the region is experiencing a rise in forest fires due to a severe drought...

Deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon continued to plummet in May [2024], reaching the lowest level since March 2018, according to new data from the alert system run by Brazil’s national space research institute, INPE.

According to INPE’s DETER system, deforestation in May 2024 amounted to 501 square kilometers (193 square miles), an area 147 times the size of New York City’s Central Park. This tally brings the accumulated deforestation detected by DETER over the past year to 4,350 square kilometers, down 54% from the same time last year.

For the year to date, DETER has detected 1,182 square kilometers of forest clearance, down 40% from the 1,986 square kilometers recorded at this point in 2023.

[Note: January 2023 is when Lula da Silva was elected in Brazil. As you can see, after that, deforestation immediately plummeted. He is doing SO MUCH for the environment, we are SO lucky he beat Bolsonaro (the big pro-deforestation guy) for president of Brazil.

Also, in case the above chart makes you think we're doing worse than ever, that chart actually starts on a major low point for deforestation, toward the end of Lula da Silva's first term. Here's another chart that gives a longer-term picture, from 2002 to 2023. If we are lucky, Lula da Silva will bring the kind of drop in deforestation to us now that he did during his first term: an almost 80% drop in deforestation.]

Pictured: Annual deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon since 2002 under each presidential administration, according to INPE’s PRODES system. Note: Temer took office on 31 Aug 2016 replacing Rousseff, while other presidents started their terms Jan 1. Also 2023 data is preliminary.

The decline in deforestation registered by DETER mirrors the trend recorded by an independent system maintained by Imazon, a Brazilian NGO. Imazon’s system is seen as a check against official data.

The alert data suggests observers should expect a sharp drop in deforestation for the 12 months ending July 31, the period Brazil uses for measuring annual deforestation. July 31 corresponds with the peak of the dry season across much of the Brazilian Amazon, when cloud cover is at a minimum, facilitating efforts to measure changes in forest cover.

For the annual assessment, Brazil uses higher resolution satellite imagery, which requires more time for analysis. In contrast, the shorter timeframe of DETER enables authorities to take action against illegal deforestation if there is interest in doing so. Data from DETER and PRODES, the annual system, have a strong correlation.

-via GoodGoodGood, July 2, 2024

[grugruel]

Wicked Game

Pairings: cop!bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: An out of control college party gets crashed by cops, someone tattled, and a cop chase ensues.

The chief is an old friend of your family, who you'd always had a crush on.

Thinking he's harmless, you talk back. But he can only hold back for so long.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: reader is 20, pinv sex, rough sex, oral sex (m and f recieving), choking, uniform kink, sir kink, reader being bratty, bucky doing something about it!! edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, handjob, fingering, pet names (girl, doll), praise (yay), mentions of masturbation, slight marking, degrading ish? cum eating, creampie, power dynamic, some soft!bucky at the end.

AN: This is not a Lee bodecker fic! This is just regular, muscly cop!bucky.

Blaring music and thumping bass fill an already crowded house, drunk daredevils otherwise inhabiting it.

God, my skull feels like it's about the cave in. The average college experience in other words.

I'd been drinking the least out of my friends, yet I felt the worst. They sat on the couch around me, trying the wide assortment of drugs that were splayed out in front of us. Littering the table along with various hard liqour bottles, all mostly empty.

Drugs arent my forte, but I wont nark them.

The party had only been going for an hour or so, I think? My lockscreen told me it was 2 in the night, holy shit? It had been 5 hours.

How the hell had no one called the cops yet? Little did I know, how badly I jinxed myself.

'Guys, Guys.' I lazily shrugged the shoulders of two of my friends sitting on each side of me, 'We- we, gotta go.'

'We're fine!' One of them drawled, splaying out on the couch.

I shook my head, head thumping in each bend, 'Theres literally. . .' I paused, searching tiredly for the right words, 'Uhm- No way! That the cops arent on their way here like, right now.'

'We've lasted this long.' The other said, shrugging his shoulders, grinning.

I groaned, 'Fine!' And threw my hands up in defeat, my friend observed me smugly. He held up some coke for me, raising his brows in question. To which I shook my head again.

A sharp alarm cut through the music, everyone groaned, heads complaining at the sound. I figured it was something with the sound system, but no.

I just had to jinx myself, remember?

As my ears adjusted to the sound, I realised. It's sirens, two or three. Cops.

'It's the fucking cops!' I shouted, alerting everyone. The music cut off, and the sirens clarified into the deafening sound of jail, or curfew. Depending on the cop. I was hoping and dreading the Chief in equal amounts, he could take it easy on me, or not.

I roused my friends, dragging them up from the couch and filtering them through the backdoor. Along with at least a hundred other people our age.

My attempts at freeing them had made me lag behind, one of my friends grabbed my arm, 'Come on!' She shouts, trying to pull me with them. But theres to many people between us and she loses her grip, swept away by the crowd.

The front door swings open behind me, and I freeze. Slowly turning around, I see a tall, broad shouldered figure standing silently observing the chaos from the doorway. He stepped inside, searching the crowd, and eventually. His eyes land on me.

'Give em' hell. Get the ones you can!' He barks the orders at his men, and then his eyes narrow in on me. Staring me down, 'And leave this one to me.' His words make my skin crawl, in fear of my parents finding out and possibly, excitement?

I wouldn't say no to punishment dealt by Chief Barnes.

His men rush past me out the backdoor, leading me to back up slowly. Placing the Coffee table between me and the Chief, securing myself somewhat.

Slowly, he stalks forward. A slanted smile growing with every step that he takes, making chills run up my spine. His uniform does him good I notice, shirt and pants sitting around his muscles perfectly. Belt and gun? Hot.

'Heeey, Buck.' I smile cheapishly, 'Fancy meeting you here.' Testing the waters, seeing what chances my charms have of easing the situation for myself.

He nods, raising his eyebrows in response and grins in spite, as if answering, "I'm sure it is" and "You're in deep fuckin shit now."

I laugh nervously and try again, 'I didn't know you enjoy college parties Buck? Or just, college girls?'

Amused, he steps closer, It's now only the table separating us. I step up on the couch behind me, desperately trying to make up for the space I'm losing. He puts his hands around his belt buckle, smirking. At least my incredibly funny self seems to have softened him.

He looks down, studying its content, then looks back up at me. His face turns displeased, undoing all my previous hard work to humour him.

I follow his gaze, looking at the table myself, and it dawns on me, 'No no no no!' I throw out in panic, 'Listen, Buck. . .'

'What could you possibly have to say-' he began and lowered his head, giving me a serious look, 'To get yourself out of this one?' referring to the table.

'I can think of a few things, I might have an ace in my sleeve.' I smirk. Metaphoricly speaking of course, my blouse does not have long sleeves.

He takes a firm step closer, a bemused look on his face, 'Ok Ok! It's not mine! It's not, mine.' I gesture to myself, then to the table in erratic motions. 'I'm an innocent bystander, I just sat on the couch. Never even touched the stuff.' I hold my hands up, palms out. As if it would stop him.

'Theres nothing innocent about you girl.' He tells me sternly, the corner of his lip tugging.

Stunned, there's a sudden flutter in my stumache.

Suddenly, the energy between us change. The tension grows and the look in his eyes turn hungry, like a hunter watching its prey.

'Pinky promise?' I ask, shrugging cheapishly.

He takes a few quick steps toward me, rounding the table. But I run to the end of the couch, making sure that the table is still between us. Butterflies surge through my body, giddy from excitement. This is the most fun I'd had all night. 'Buck, let's- lets be civil about this, alright? Let's just talk.' I giggle.

He chuckles, 'Oh, you think this is funny?'

Nodding, 'Kind of, yes. . .' I tease.

'We're far past talking.' He breathes, 'Had I been anyone else, had I not known your parents, you would've been in cuffs by now.'

My eyes turn mischievous, 'Whats stopping you?' I tilt my head, 'I assure you, I wouldn't mind.' And grin.

He chews the inside of his cheek, then charges, and I run, swivelling to avoid solo cups and various balloons on the floor. I hear his footsteps behind me, catching up. My agility is nothing compared to his raw muscle and speed, but I swerve into the kitchen, adrenaline kicking in. And manage to take cover behind the kitchen island.

Bucky grinds to a halt, slamming his palms into the counter, catching himself against it. Once again, im in safety. For a while at least.

'Youre gonna have to be faster than that.' I pant, grinning. He meets my eyes, pure animalistic tendencies behind them. The look on his face has me biting my lip, I couldn't wait for him to catch me. 'C'mon Chief.' I purr.

And somethings in his eyes ignite at the word, oh?

'Chief?' I test and he grunts, eyes glaring at me through his eyebrows. Naturally, I delve deeper, 'You feeling quite alright. . . Sir?'

He tilts his head with a jerk, then laughs 'You've done it now.' Those are warning words. Then he jumps, sliding over the counter.

'Holy shit!' I squeek as I take of running, narrowly avoiding his grasp. I run through the house with Bucky right on my heels, nothing but the the thrill of the chase keeping me going.

I run out by the backdoor, then stupidly enough, take a right. Into a garden, a fenced in garden. The high type of fence too. I regret my decision the second I see notice it, but its to late. Buckys steps slow behind me, and I slow to a stop myself as I come face to face with a dead-end. 'Oh, fuck me.' I breathe, absolutely exhausted.

'Famous last words, doll.' He cuckles between pants.

I turn around and smile through the pain, 'Ha ha! Funny guy. What. A funny. Guy.' I clench my teeth, sighing.

My eyes lock onto his frame, hands on his hips as he's catching his breath. Mesmerized I stare, men in uniform, huh? Im starting to see the appeal.

Slowly, he begins walking toward me, prowling like a tiger. He grabs hold of his belt, pulling it upward to adjust his pants.

God damn.

My uterus is aching, my entire body is aching. I would've drooled if I hadnt come to my senses, escaping. Right.

I make a break for it. In one quick motion, I turn around and jump. Grabbing hold of the upper ledge of the fence and pull myself up, my feet scrambling against the wood to find some sort of purchase. But im too slow, too focused. I didn't even hear him come up behind me, but I did feel his big hands on my waist.

He yanks me down and pushes me toward the fence, his body flush against my back. I gasp and he digs his fingertips into my waist, making sure I don't escape again. His touch makes me yearn for more, I want it deeper.

He levels his head with mine, leaning in close to my ear. Close enough to feel his hot breathing against the skin on my neck, 'I got you now.' He whispers, making my skin prickle with goosebumps and setting of a pulse deep below my stumache. But I wasn't willing to give up just yet. With my hands free, I pry his own from my waist and turn around, pushing him back by the chest.

Now. . . The intention was to push him hard enough to give me space to run past, but. . .

He barely budged, he grabbed my wrists and pushed me back against the fence, pinning my body between the wood and himself. Wrists in hand, he anchored my arms to my sides by grabbing onto the fabric of my skirt. Rouching it, he helt the flesh of my ass under his fingers.

I laugh nervously, 'You're not gonna tell mom and dad are you?'

He just chuckles, fuck im truly, in deep shit.

I try wriggling free from his grip, but he holds my wrists tighter, carefully slamming them into the fence above my head and leans against me. Leaving zero space for me to move, every curve of our bodies complete the others, I swear I can feel his bulge against my hip. He moves his face closer to mine, needing me to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. When I do, a self-satisfied smile covers his lips. His face inches from my own, we were basically sharing one breath as his lips barely brush over mine. 'You gonna be a good girl for me and behave?' He asks, breathing heavily.

I whine, he can't possibly turn me on more. 'Depends.' I say.

''Yeah?' He practically whimpers.

I close the distance between our lips, but he pulls back and smiles, teasing me. I meet his eyes and we look at eachother intently, as if entranced, I cant break contact.

He lets go of my wrists and traces his hands down my arms, all the way down to my hands. Chills run amock over my body, I close my eyes and lean in again, but suddenly-

I hear a clasp, then another and I can just feel him smirk against me. My eyes go wide and I realise, 'You didn't.' glaring at him.

'I did.' He laughs, 'What made you think you were in a position to negotiate?'

I look down and sure enough, cuffs bind my wrists together. Shocked, my mouth falls open. I didnt even feel him reach for them.

He backs up and grabs my arm, pulling me with him. 'Could you at least let me off around the corner from our house?' I ask as we make our way toward his car, he glaces down at me but doesnt answer, 'So they dont see me get dropped off in a cruiser, you know?' He opens the front door for me, and helps me inside, 'And maybe avoid talking to them for a few weeks, you'd really be doing me a favor, Buck.' And without a word, he closes the door and walks around to his side. Getting in and driving off.

The first portion of the ride is silent, he'd done what he had to, to catch me. Damn.

Luckily for me though, the party was a long way from home. Meaning I have some time to devise a plan.

I look at my cuffs, carefully observing them. Hmm. . . I yank my hands apart, trying the strength of the schackles, hoping the sound would gather his attention.

This was a game of chance, a game of seduction and persuasion.

Gently, I tickle the skin on my upper knee, 'I really didnt do any drugs y'know.' tracing back and forth with my fingertips, acting somber. Then lay my hand flat against my thigh, squeezing it absentmindedly. Continuing with rubbing small, firm circles with my index finger into my skin and turn to look out of the window.

Bucky clears his throat. The reaction I was looking for, perfect.

I spread my legs slightly, letting my hands slide down either side of my thigh. Clasping them together underneath and slide them up along my thigh. The skirt catching on my cuffs, revealing more and more of my-

-his hand flies to my thigh, hooking the cuff over his thumb and squeezing my flesh. Keeping me from showing anything more. Fuck, my core is throbbing from that alone.

'Buck?' I ask innocently.

'Dont' he croaks, voice sounding pained.

'Sorry-' I pause, glancing at him carefully. His eyes are fixed sternly on the road, 'We could talk about this like adults you know, make a deal.' He squeezes my thigh harder, I lift one hand with the restricted movements of my cuffs and caress his fingertips, 'A real good deal, benefitial for the both of us' I suggest.

'You talk too much for your own good, girl.'

'I'm not quite sure what you mean, Sir?. .' I bite my lip as he looks over at me, meeting my eyes through my lashes. 'You wouldn't tell on me to my parents, would you?' I ask, giving him my best puppy eyes.

He looks away, sitting silently until the next exit comes up. He flashes his indicators and turn off the main road, parking in an empty clearing.

'You want a deal, doll?' He asks, looking straight ahead. Sliding the cuffs off his thumb as his hand travel downward, fingertips sliding under my skirt, knuckles brushing over my clothed clit. Lust flashes through my nerves, and I gasp.

'A deal, or you. Both sound good to me.' I whisper, on the edge of my seat. Eagerly awaiting his answer, waiting for him.

He looks back at me, meeting my eyes with a fiendish grin, 'Then put that big mouth of yours to use.' He orders.

Nodding enthusatically, I lean over. Unbuckling his belt and zip down his pants, I reach into his boxers and fuuuuck, my hands barely fit around him. I pull him out and pull my hands to my mouth, wetting my fingers before returning them. One hand carefully stroking small circles around his tip, while the other strokes him up and down in cylindrical motions along his shaft.

The chief of police bites his lip, muffling a whimper as I move faster, 'Uhh- mmm. .' He hums, 'Yes- yes, doll. Fuck. .' He stutters.

Such a strong man crumbling under the touch of a woman, it was turning me on like nothing ever has, the power I hold is surprising.

His fingers move under my panties and slide along my slit, making it my turn to moan. I Buck my hips to give him better access, and he dips his fingers inside me. Pumping them slowly as he's getting them wet, then slides up to my clit, circling around it. 'Holy-' I gasp, 'Shit.'

We buck our hips to the others touch, leaning against the other, shoulder to shoulder, temple to temple. Moaning breathely. Our lips finally meeting in a needy kiss, tounges moving with the rhythm of our bodies. 'Please, doll. Be a good girl.' He begs between our lips.

Fuck me, that heartbeat in my utherus spread in pulses through out my entire body.

I grin and pull back. Leaning over, I carefully lick the leaking cum off his tip clean, then take him in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around his head, licking greedily. Tasting the salt of him. I push deeper, sucking his length into my mouth. The sloppy sounds of saliva and lips were vulgar inte the most intoxicating way. His hand continues massaging my clit while the other snakes into my hair, grabbing a fistful and aiding my movements. Helping me set merciless pace.

Bucky groans, our strokes growing in greed as we close in on our releases. He shoves two big fingers into my core, curling at just the right spot. Pleasure surge through me, leaving me to stuff my throat with his member, muffling a scream as I topple over the edge. I feel him come right after, my mouth filling with his seed and hearing his moan of completion. The bitterness of salt waa overwhelming to my tastebuds, I swallow what I can and pull myself off.

Leaving a sloppy mess around my mouth, I sit back and smile. Breathing heavily as I regain my strength, Bucky looks at me and laughs, 'You got something right here.' gesturing circles around his mouth, reffering to mine. I wide my mouth clean with my thumb and suck it off, Bucky smiles proudly at the sight. Then brings his own fingers to his mouth, sucking my juices off of them.

Heat ignites within me once again.

Bucky cups my face with one hand and pulls me into a kiss. The tastes of eachother mixing, I can't quite tell what is what. But it's wonderful. Bucky pulls free and looks at me, I give him a hazy, expectant look. He strokes my cheek with his thumb and slides out of the car, walking around to my side. I furrow my eyebrows as he helps me out of the passenger seat. He pulls me to the hood of the car, pushing himself against me until the back of my legs hit the grill. He leans in and whispers against my ear, 'Still need to punish ya.' He drawls, a shiver running through my spine.

'Im begging you Chief.' I look at him thtough hooded, lustfilled eyes, 'Please punish me.' I groan, smiling.

His dick twitched at the word, making him close his eyes to keep his composure. Then suddenly bends down and finds purchase under my knees. In one swift motion, he pulls, and I fall back onto the hood, 'Wanting it defeats the purpose, doll.' He growls, then opens his eyes. But the sight before him makes him unravel.

Upperbody bent to the side in an effort to prop myself up on my forearms, thanks to my cuffs. Skirt over my hips and legs spread, core exposed and ready for him.

'Do you worst, please. Sir. . .' I whisper and grin.

His eyes snap to mine, and that "You're in for it now.' Expression returns, 'Fuckin brat.' He spits.

Then, he kneels. He fuckin kneels. A shiver runs up my spine a the sight, 'Some punishment, huh?' I ask, but he only smirks. Hooking my legs over his shoulders, and grabbing each thigh to keep them spread, then, without warning, he dives in.

I bite my cheek to stop myself from screaming, pulses of pleasure run through me like electric currents. He pushes his tongue inside me, feverishly licking at my juices, exploring my walls, burrying his face in my cunt. Nose pushing up against my clit, making my back arch deliciously. 'That all you can do?' I tease, grinding my hips against his nose, desperate to get some friction. But his eyes meet mine, glaring as he moves his hands to my hips, holding me steady.

He pulls back for a second, just to spit on my cunt, then hastily returning, chasing my clit. I gasp, burrying my cuffed hands in his hair, pulling him closer as I want more. Making him moan against me, his voice vibrating against my clit. My sight blurs from the pleasure, a knot tightening inside me 'More.' I beg, 'So close.'

His tongue slide out of me, and I whine. But he licks a stipe up my cunt and then attatches at my clit, sucking and nipping at my sensitivity. My body jolts, and I shut my eyes. 'You gonna cum?' He asks, voice muffled.

I can barely answer, pleasure overwhelming me as white specks my vision, 'Ye- yeah. . ' I moan, 'So close, ju- just like th-' I begin, about to reach my climax again, but suddenly.

He let's go, pushing himself off of my clit with on last lick and sits back on his heels, watching my unravel.

'No, please, Buck.' I squrim, whining at the loss of him. I try to pull him back, but he doesn't budge. 'I'm begging, please, please.' I whimper, closing my legs and pushing them together, moving my hips for any sort of friction to finish what he started.

'Mouthy brats dont get to cum.' He chuckles and grab my knees to pull them apart. I feel a tear roll down my cheek as the knot loosens again. In a last desperate effort, I pull my hands from his hair, burrying two fingers in me while my thumb rubs my clit. Just for a second, that exctatic feeling returns, blissful sparks ignite, until- he pushes his body between my legs to keep my thighs in place and grab my wrists, ripping them from my cunt. Then laughs, he laughs.

'Not funny.' I whimper.

'It is. . . Im not done even done yet.' He says, face glistening with my juices.

I fall back against the hood groaning, as the ache in my core reaches my bones. 'I need you so bad.' I whisper.

'What was that?' He asks.

'I need you. Buck please.' I whimper.

'Can't quite hear you, doll.' He mocks, hands squeezing tighter around my wrists.

'I fuckin need you inside me, ok?' I almost shout, 'Fuck me, hard. I'm begging, jus- just need you in me.'

'Yeah?' He laughs, standing up. Hooking his hands under my knees and slide me closer to him. His hand trace my skin to my waist, getting a tight grib. Then, in one smooth motion, he flips me to my stumache.

I can't help but gasp, 'Think you can act like a brat all night, and get away with it?' He asks, smaking my ass once. I yelp, the sting making my eyes water in the most delicious way. He lines himself up with my entrance, pushing on it slightly. His tip breeching.

'Please.' I whimper, muttering a string of curses. And without warning, he shoves himself inside. Again, I bite my cheek. Pleasure rolls through me, electrocuting every nerve. He grabs my hips, sinking his fingertips deep into my skin. Silently, I beg for them to leave bruises. Theres nothing hotter than a souvenir to remember him by.

He sets a hard pace, thrusting deeply. Pulling back almost all the way before forcefully pushing himself inside again, over and over. My brain doesnt function, I can't form words, all I can do is moan. The sound of slapping skin perfectly lewd in my ear. 'Harder Buck.' I request.

He leans down, grabbing my throat and pulling me flush against his chest, pushing his nose into my cheek, 'Yeah? This not enough for you?' He asks, grunting in my ear.

'Not enough, more.' I mewl.

His hand tightens his grip around my throat, cutting off just enough air to give me a dizzying euphoria. His other hands come down on my ass again, smacking hard as he thrusts deeper. Then re-grips your hip, using it to push and pull your, making our bodies come together even harder, 'Greedy girl, cant fuckn get enough huh?' He groans between breaths, hot against your skin.

I shake my head, the only answer I can manage as I feel my walls twitching, closing around him. He can feel it too, his hips stutter, throwing his thrusts of balance. He bites my ear, lightly tugging on it before kissing my cheek gently, then kissing down my neck.

A stark contrast to the rest of his movements, it's enough to make my head spin. It's almost too much. I feel the blinding pleasure threatening to spill inside me, 'You wanna cum girl?' He asks against the crook of my neck. I nod my head enthusiastically. 'Words doll, use your words.' He breathes.

'Ye- Yes, please.' I manage, 'Wanna cum so fucking bad, Chief.'

He grunts, hand slipping from my throat to my breasts, working them roughly. Palming, squeezing, pinching 'C'mon, cum for me doll.' He says between pants and immidietly, I topple over the edge. Pleasure blinding me as he continues thrusting, continues to assault my breasts. My body begins spasming, and my knees go week, 'Bucky. . . Fuck-' I groan, but he holds me up. All my senses feel like they're about to burst as he prolongs my orgasm, stretching it out in an exhuastingly wonderful way. He bites down on my shoulder, squeezing my breasts, muffled grunts escaping him as his own body spasms and his thrusts halt, his member finally filling me with seed.

He collapses on top of me as we catch our breaths, im so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.

I close my eyes for a second, but doesnt register Bucky pushing himself off of me, or him gathering me in his arms and laying me in the backseat. I don't feel him wrap his jacket around me, or the ride home.

But I do rouse from my sleep as Bucky carries me into my room and lays me down in my bed, he kisses me on the forehead, 'Hey doll.' He whispers, a soft smile on his lips.

I panic slightly as I realise that I'm home, 'Mom n' dad?' I ask anxiously.

'I made a good excuse, don't worry.' He strokes some hair from my face, 'Sleep. You need it. I'll go easier on you next time.' He promises.

'Next time?' I ask, a tired smile covering my face.

'Next time.' He assures, and you drift back to sleep. He stands up and walks to the doorway, silently watching you with admiring eyes as he carefully closes the door.

He tells your parents a made up backstory and they understand, happy to see him. They invite him to dinner next weekend and he happily accepts, he'd do anything to see you again.

He thinks about you the entire car ride home, in the shower as he beats himself off and in the morning as he wakes up with a hard on from dreams off you clenching around him.

He can do nothing but count the days until he sees you again, guranteeing himself it will be a memorable occasion.

[vomitspit2]

concept with jade leech.

as most colleges do, NRC has a weekly newspaper that is run by the student body.

though one would imagine someone as busy as jade leech would never pick it up, he happens to routinely pick it up every monday in the lobby where they are put on display. he reads through all of it, thoroughly and carefully.

there are a multitude of reasons for this: mostro lounge sometimes puts articles in the paper about new menu items (as vice-housewarden, jade always double-checks their formatting); he likes to be alert about the by-and-by at his college (as vice-housewarden, it’s opportunistic to see what events may happen or what poor unfortunate soul might need a little help in the ‘anonymous student grievance’ section); and lastly, he had found himself enthralled by this new running comic strip at the start of his second year.

it seems to be two completely different artists who are running this new newspaper section.

one works in logical fallacies and bizarre humor; the drawings are crude and very sketch-like; jade has found himself biting a smile at some of the satire sprinkled in.

the second works in baroque influences; there is no humor found within it and it is very mature in ornate detail; jade particularly likes a certain strip where a sentient mushroom fuses with a human body, creating something lovecraftian.

though not a fan of ‘manga’ like azul’s fellow club member and ignihyde housewarden and not a good artist like his brother, jade finds himself looking forward to the comic strips on page thirteen at the start of his monday class.

so, when he sits down in his first period, thermos full of pu-erh black tea and a good five minutes left before the bell rings, a frown cross his face when he finds that page thirteen is absent of a certain section.

it’s a bit … odd.

as there are two different artists, should not the other one pick up the slack when the other is out of commission? one person cannot fulfill duties flawlessly. that is why NRC has a system of housewarden and vice-housewarden. by having two artists, one can ensures there is always going to be a weekly comic strip.

while only a bit disgruntled, jade decides to overlook this slip of management, only slightly knocked out of his rhythm in unnoticeable ways.

except next week again, there is no comic strip.

this time is surprising.

that section had done particularly well for getting the newspaper’s revenue up. as the son of a ‘businessman’, jade always notices the little things. the stack in the student lobby has been a bit lower in the past months; something anyone can equate to the new inclusion of this comic strip — more people are buying the product because it has something of new value in it.

they would surely be losing money because of this sectional cut? is the artist sick? why has the other one not taken up the helm?

the third week it happens, jade finds himself momentarily vexed. at lunch, floyd pulls the newspaper out of jade’s binder and asks annoyed, ‘hey why did they cut the comics??’ jade is wondering the same sentiment.

have these two people conspired together to rid him of his morning entertainment? no, that’s an utterly ridiculous notion … but it does not stop jade from being so thoroughly annoyed.

it is not like he needs that particular part of page thirteen. but it feels like something has been stolen from him. it is not often that he finds a person who shares his love for surrealist humor and surrealist horror. the loss gnaws at him.

on the third monday, clocking into his night shift at the mostro lounge, jade finds you — the ramshackle prefect — biting the straw of your drink to death, not an inch of the foaming drink drunk. you seem to be very enthralled with a piece of paper. but much like how you have not drank your beverage, the paper is blank and there is nothing to be enthralled with. always the observer, jade thinks you look … empty.

it is not jade’s most favored expression on you, but he still likes viewing each part of you — much like observing the value scale! one needs to understand each part of it or the jump in tones with leave to an ugly, incorrectly shaded artwork.

however, before he can make his way over to you, jade watches as you crumple up the paper and slam down a thaumark for a beverage you did not drink and storm out of mostro lounge like someone has just personally insulted you and you’re making a swift escape.

though it is not the table he is charge of waiting, jade picks up the cash all the same and clears the table of your existence. he takes a sip from your bitten straw. runs his ungloved hand over the plush leather of your booth just to feel the warmth of where you sat. yet, as he slipping the glove back on his hand and setting down your drink, something in the discord of empty papers happens to catch his attention.

having already snooped around in your business before — sometimes you have caught him, other times you have not — jade feels no guilt in picking up the piece of paper. his eyes widen comically when he takes in the sight of that baroque-influenced artwork (this piece depicts a sleep paralysis demon with furry hands and crowning horns) paired right next to crude, sketch-like figure (a man with only nine simple circles to make up his body).

well, now he knows who to hassle.

[thefirstknife]

Alright, so some parts of the community puzzle were solved and a website was revealed. Aion-archive. The puzzle isn't over but there's stuff to do on the website with some cool info and teasers. The rest of the puzzle is so far in the process of people inputting a million codes and figuring things out which I don't really understand and I'm only interested in the end lore results so I'll talk about what we can read so far.

First of all, Aion was mentioned in Vesper's Host as "The Aion Initiative" during the secret quest with the collectibles:

Vesper Station: I’ve got the archive of Dr. Bray’s published staff memos. Petabytes of data in the raw files. Rasputin. The Stoneworm protocols. The Aion Initiative. Soteria. I had siblings this whole time. And you never let me know.

Unclear how this connects to anything, but it was definitely some sort of project back in the Golden Age.

Playing around on the site can let you access a home button and then it lists some options to go through:

I'll put the rest under read more so people can play around by themselves without spoilers if they want and for length:

First of all, the missing numbers that are listed as alerts? You can still input them. So even though it says that 002, 004, 005, and 006 are missing, you can still select them and they give information. I'll drop all of them here and do some commentary because this is enrichment.

Input 001:

Very interesting! So "Aion" stands for "Apollo Intertemporal Observation Network," investigating time dilation and temporal anomalies that go beyond simple light-speed issues. I'm absolutely losing it immediately because this is incredibly cool in so many ways. The possibility that The Edge of Fate will involve some time travel shenanigans is exciting. Hoping for more Vex stuff for sure!

Input 002:

Obsessed. This is definitely why the whole thing was codenamed "Apollo" originally and some of our speculation about it was actually correct. Apollo, god of prophecy! Fascinated by the fact that this one aspect of Apollo was chosen as first description of him. Like, yeah, that part was incredibly important but Apollo was a god of many things. Either way, hello, I am going to be on the news.

Input 003:

Stuff about chess, which is interesting because this is how we got to the website in the first place. I feel like we're playing chess with some entity beyond our comprehension that deals with time travel. What even is going on in Destiny.

Input 004:

Not sure why this is mentioned, but it may have something to do with a later input. The Oort Cloud is a real thing (or at least a real theorised thing).

Input 005:

Unclear what this connects to at the moment.

Input 006:

Also unclear. "There is a place" is the same starter as the sentence in input 001: "There is a place where the numbers don't match." Referring to the temporal anomalies. I assume that's the same sentence?

Input 007:

Unclear. Some of this stuff might get fully cleared up once the puzzle is completed and these gaps are filled. If they are going to be filled at all. We're not sure what the end of the puzzle will do actually.

Input 008:

Interesting! This might explain the mention of the Oort Cloud? Trans-Neptunian objects are, also, a real thing and they exist in the space beyond Neptune from the Kuiper's Belt to the Oort Cloud. This text makes me also think of Nessus which is a similar object called a centaur that originally should've existed also around and beyond Neptune, but something messed with its orbit (presumably the Vex) and it was on collision course with the Exodus Black.

It's not unusual to consider a massive planetary object somewhere far out there that might be affecting the gravity and orbit of smaller objects, but it's interesting that this is a part of this whole text. Is the implication that we'll be discovering an unknown planet in the far reaches of the solar system? Bizarre because the teaser implied we're leaving the system entirely ("Kepler 15"), but also with the implied time travel shenanigans... who the hell knows. What are they cooking.

Input 009:

Unclear. No clue what this may be referring to. Hoping for more information as the puzzle gets closer to solving.

Input 010:

Also unclear. I assume that the red text is saying something along the line of "We made a mistake". Way too many gaps to know currently.

Input 011:

Interesting! The first bit lists actual dates. 29th April 2025 (Signal confirmation) is when the puzzle started this Tuesday reset. 4th May 1991 (listed as "odd") is the date of when Bungie was founded. 9th September 2014 obviously when Destiny released. One more is down there but without the year so if anyone wants to hunt down what happened on the 12th of April in any year in human history... have fun.

The second set lists a few things that can also be input into the computer. So 11101 etc. can be searched. Here's what they give:

And finally:

This bit is where the rest of the puzzle is currently happening, still with the in-game chess board if I understand correctly. People are inputting these codes which are codes you get from the chess board and then there's something going on with QR codes?? Which gives people some sort of string of letters to input into the computer and then they're compiling what works and what doesn't. This bit is unclear to me but it's also stuff that doesn't give any direct lore. I assume this all has to be sorted for the entire database to work properly and show all text.

And this is the last input, 012:

Not much to say here, lots of stuff still missing.

Exciting stuff going on! I love community puzzles and weird shenanigans going on and it's such a cool teaser for the showcase next week and the reveal about The Edge of Fate. Can't wait to see what all of this is about, especially if we're legit going to be having some time travel stuff and weird Golden Age projects and possibly going out of the solar system.

[mt-oe]

Am curious,,, Mizu and a yandere/possessive reader 🫡 but like Mizu is also lowkey into it though

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

I apologize for not being active for so long. My mental health has been absolute shit. Admittedly, I have been wanting to put out a fic for quite some time now but I didn't want to put out a half-assed fic since none of you deserve that.

Got inspired by @pinksugarberry, specifically this work. A lot of us got our own OCs in our head that we can't quite put out into art so I hope this somehow grants you the opportunity to play in and maybe be the 5th secret route.

Hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warning/s: not proofread, she/her for mizu, panty shots, voyeurism (mdni), implied afab reader

Mizu was rarely fazed by anything.

With her characteristically stoic expression, she traversed the fields of her college program smoothly. Athletic, smart, and coupled with the calm of a deep river, she overcame the adversities brought by professors who clearly don't give a shit if you learn or not, an absurdly unfair grading system, and the stress of deadlines and exams.

She was cool, calm, and collected. Someone who never faltered, who's knees never buckled.

However, this was something different.

Something that she wasn't even sure she could ever prepare for.

.

.

"Is it this one?" your voice asked softly, reaching a book down to her as your smaller figure stood on the ladder, a few feet above her.

A library assistant. A cute fuckin' library assistant.

Upon hearing your words, her blue eyes looked up briefly to check if you've gotten the right book before widening a fraction and immediately looking elsewhere. Her cheeks heated up as the image of something—something cute and baby pink—plagues her mind, hand tightening its grip on the ladder until her knuckles turned white.

The library had always been her go-to place to study. It was quiet, usually cold, and the vibe brought by other students trying to study had also added to the ambience. There were lots of sockets and was open until the late hours. It was the perfect place to lock in.

However, her concerns started rising when she felt some sort of presence watching her intently. At first she brushed it off as the usual stranger's curiosity over her appearance. After all, her appearance was quite unique. But as the days passed by, she soon realized that the stare, it wasn't going away.

Someone was watching her.

Her senses were then on high alert every time she went to the library. She even tried not going just to see if she could lose the stare, but she realized that whoever was staring at her would only stare harder when she came back if she did. It was like she had eyes on her everywhere, watching every move.

With her wits and observant nature, it didn't take long for her to catch whoever was watching her. But to her surprise, it was you. The library assistant.

The two of you barely had interactions and she found you pretty timid. Always keeping to yourself, organizing papers, and barely interacting unless needed. The only times she'd ever talk to you was to ask for information or help. Even then, you were pretty shy. You were so harmless. Like a cute little rabbit.

With her recent discovery, she found herself intrigued by you and slowly became hyperaware of your presence. Your mannerisms, the slight intonations of your hushed voice, and even the times you went out of post to reorganize the returned books. But those weren't what intrigued her the most...

"Then what about this one?" you asked in a shy voice, holding out another book. She didn't even have to look up to know that it was the wrong book again.

Shaking her head, she pretended to clear her throat, eyes darting around. Anything to avoid looking up again. "No...It's the one beside that," she mumbled, trying her best to hide the unexplainable nervousness in her voice.

A soft, barely audible sigh left your lips at her response. "Please look at it properly," you whispered, waving the book to catch her attention.

At this point, Mizu was almost a hundred percent sure you were doing this on purpose.

Everyday, Mizu went to the library, and everyday she went to the library, she coincidentally had to ask for your assistance in finding some sort of resource. That wouldn't have been a problem. That shouldn't be a problem.

But it was.

It was because every time she did, she'd have to look up and see what was under your skirt.

She didn't want to seem like a pervert, but goddamnit...

You were doing this on purpose, weren't you?

Mizu wasn't stupid. She knew you wanted her to peek up your skirt, to see what color your panties were today, to see the cute prints it had, to admire the plushness of your ass. She'd notice how purposefully got on top of the ladder and get her attention before pulling on the fabric of your panties whenever you got a slight wedgie. She's seen the way you spread your legs when you sat in front of her, even going as far as to lift your skirt up a bit. She noticed the slight pout on your lips when she refused to look.

You've been at it ever since she remembered. Initially, she thought that you were just naturally unaware, maybe even a little bit clumsy. Maybe you just had this natural innocent lewdness? But continuing to observe you, she began realizing how you only acted like this with her.

You never watched the other people who studied in the library. You never asked anyone to look up when you fetched a book for them. You kept your legs crossed whenever talking to someone. And most of all, you never got upset when someone didn't look at you.

She knew she should be disturbed, possibly even upset. But somehow, Mizu found herself amused.

Intrigued.

Interested.

Deciding to indulge you, she turned her head to look up. Her eyes looked up your skirt, admiring the slight camel toe peeking, before looking into your eyes while pretending to be subtle. Her lips almost twitched into an amused smirk as she saw the slight shiver that went up your spine.

"Is this it?" you asked again, hiding your excitement upon feeling her gaze. She looked at the book, and sure enough, it was the wrong one again. Sighing, she shook her head.

Her eyes observed the barely-visible quiver of your lips as you tried to force an excited smile down and replace it with a disappointed frown. "O-Oh...um..let me see," you whispered before turning to look at the shelf.

A little bit of shuffling later, you decided that that was enough excitement and got the correct book this time. Handing it to her, you went down the ladder with a faux apologetic smile. "Sorry it took a while."

Mizu shook her head and let out a small huff of amusement. God, you were so cute when you acted dumb.

"No, no. It's fine," she said reassuringly, spoiling you a bit and patting your head softly before she went back to her seat, book in hand. Her eyes looking over your face for a moment, studying the slight blush that dusted over your cheeks as you took a seat again.

As she got back to her work, she could feel your eyes staring at her, watching her with unwavering interest. Your gaze was so intense it was becoming difficult to ignore. Almost as difficult as ignoring the way you were subtly spreading your legs, letting your skirt ride up a bit as you watched her.

No. At this point, you were waiting for her.

Waiting for her to look.

A few moments later, Mizu finally looked up. Her sharp blue eyes looking into yours deeply before looking down, staring at the baby pink panties you had on today. She tilted her head slightly to get a better look, admiring the way your thighs trembled in excitement, and the slight throb of your cunt.

Her gaze was so intense it almost made you want to shrink in your seat. The excitement was making your throat tighten, your hand going up to your lips to try and hide your smile.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

[marlynnofmany]

Unlikely Tech Problems

I reported to the cargo bay for our next delivery, and found concerned faces. Captain Sunlight waited by the door, scaly browridges angled into a dignified frown, while Mimi gestured wildly with his tentacles. I’d expected Mur to come with us instead. Something was up.

Before I could ask, the captain waved me over. “The other ship’s communications appear to be down,” she said. “Additional problems are possible as well. Keep your nostrils open for trouble.”

“Right,” I said, choosing not to comment on the Heatseeker phrasing. “Do we know if they’re okay?”

“They should be,” she replied with one clawed finger pointed at the closed bay door, which blocked the view of a busy spaceport. “The crew member who exited their ship to wave us over didn’t look distressed. And Wio isn’t picking up any alert signals or other causes for alarm.”

Mimi rumbled, “But we’re cautiously alarmed anyway.” He made quite a contrast to the captain, with his voice so much rougher and his attitude grumpier than usual today. Plus all the tentacles. I wondered what he expected the problem to be. Or maybe he just wasn’t looking forward to being mechanic-for-hire as a favor for regular clients. Though I’m sure the captain would have given him a bonus for that.

“We are simply cautious,” said Captain Sunlight. “We’ll head out as soon as—”

Something hissed behind me.

“I hearrrr of thrrrreatening circumsssstanssses?” asked Trrili, sounding pleased.

I turned to see our largest and scariest crewmate doing her favorite thing: looming. Well, second favorite thing, after jumping out and startling people. It was probably good that she enjoyed being terrifying, because with an appearance that was a mix of praying mantis, black widow spider, and unholy nightmares, she was really good at it.

Captain Sunlight was unfazed. “Potentially threatening,” she corrected. “If you will kindly observe in case of problems, I would appreciate it.”

Trrili crouched lower and flexed her pincher arms. “Yesss.”

(Unnecessary hissing is her third favorite thing to do.)

“Right. They’ll be waiting.” The captain stepped forward and opened the bay door — with the airlock engaged. She really wasn’t taking any chances. I wondered if Wio was watching from the cockpit, ready to call the local authorities if need be.

Yeah, of course she was.

The first three of us cycled through the airlock, then waited on the tarmac while Trrili followed. The spaceport was a big one, with ships in all the nearby parking spots and people hustling to and fro. (They're more properly called berths or bays or something, but whatever; they're parking spots. Everybody there could land vertically, and the areas were sorted by ship size.)  I didn’t know which ship held the package we were meant to be picking up. Hopefully it was close.

By the time Trrili stepped out, the ship directly across from us had opened its own bay door, this one without any sort of airlock precautions. A snow-white Heatseeker trotted out and waved us forward. I was glad that the local weather was slightly overcast, since between those white scales and Captain Sunlight’s yellow, I would have been doing a lot of squinting on a bright day.

“Piercing Sunlight!” exclaimed the client. “Good to smell you.”

“Hello, Toothbone,” said the captain. “Always a pleasure. Is your comm system down?”

Toothbone swished her tail. “A precautionary measure. We had a bit of machinery repaired, and it came back with suspicious programming. We’re making sure it’s not malicious before connecting with any other ships, just to be sure.”

Captain Sunlight nodded while Trrili made a quiet hiss of disappointment. “Very sensible,” the captain said. “I trust this won’t affect the package you want us to deliver?”

“No, not at all. It’s a textile piece that one of our crew made on commission for someone on their home planet, no technology involved. Right this way.”

She led us up the ramp into their cargo bay, which had a lower ceiling than ours. Trrili and I both had to duck a little. The Heatseekers and Mimi didn’t notice.

Toothbone pointed out an awkwardly-shaped box that probably held an art frame as well as the promised cloth, and Captain Sunlight tactfully brought out the payment tablet.

Angry voices echoed down the hallway. Trrili perked up and edged forward; I stepped aside to let her while Mimi squashed down beside the package. Captain Sunlight glanced up but didn’t say anything. Toothbone just looked tired.

Since neither of them told her not to, Trrili opened the door and stuck her head out. Somebody shrieked. The sounds of the argument stopped.

“Isssss therrre a prrroblem?” Trrili purred.

“No — well yes, but not — who are you?” someone asked while other voices muttered in the background.

“Courrrierrr,” Trrili said.

“Thank you for your concern,” said an officious voice. “If you don’t mind—”

“Hey, is that a human?” asked another voice, and I saw brown eyes peeking around Trrili. “They’ll back me up! Hang on a sec. ‘Scuse me.”

Trrili stepped back as a slender human with dark skin and a wild-colored shirt skipped past. He hurried over to me. I braced for whatever conversation was about to happen.

“Hi,” he said earnestly. “Please tell me you’ve heard of the thing where people program old Earth games into unlikely bits of tech.”

“Sure!” I said. “My cousin put Doom in a hoverbike’s display screen once.”

“Yes!” He pointed at me and pumped a fist in the air, then turned back to the scaly faces in the hall. “You see?”

I connected the dots. “Did your repaired piece of tech come back with a game on it?”

He whirled, wild-eyed. “Yes! One of the repair guys is a buddy of mine, and he must have done it as a joke. I’ve been trying to explain it, but nobody believes me!”

“What tech is it?” I asked.

“Part of the medbay,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Somebody sprained their tail, and the medic went to scan it for breaks, then they ended up with a screen full of demons and gunfire.”

I tried not to laugh. “Is it actually Doom in your medbay??”

He dragged his hands over his face. “It’s Doom in the medbay.”

“That’s amazing!”

By this point the other Heatseekers had made their way in to join the conversation, and to be formally introduced. Things got a bit chaotic. But I confirmed for the alien crew that yes, this was a thing humans did sometimes, and no, it was not a threat to the ship. Alarming yes, but not any form of viral attack.

Trrili was a bit disappointed, but everyone else was relieved. Captain Sunlight managed to steer the conversation back to courier business.

The other human shook his head next to me. “I can’t believe my friend did that. Well no, I can believe it; this is definitely his sort of thing. But jeez.”

“You might consider sending him another old Earth tradition in return,” I suggested with a grin. “Possibly a max-volume rickroll?”

He grinned back. “I might. I might indeed.”

~~~

Inspired by this thread. Thanks for the idea, @sleepyowlet!

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[soulanine]

I'd like to add something to the feral bros. I feel like this is something Ace learned when observing wolves, he'd learn how to howl really loud and imitate how a wolf does it, and when Sabo came to join him they made that little habit into their personal communication system when they're far from one another like when one howls it's a sign that the other has to go to them and howl back a response that they heard it and that they're headed there, and with the addition of a trouble magnet little brother, it works wonders for them as an alert and a reassurance.

When they get older and become pirates they stop doing it in public but it doesn't mean that it's out of their system. So just imagine, Ace has a habit of using this to check if Luffy is in the island he's at and just Sabo regaining his memories when he hears a familiar howl during one of his missions and immediately runs to where it came from and howl back in pure instinct.

- nonym dewd 😎

WAIT THIS IS SO CUTE !!!! ahh bird calls and howls. theyre so insane i love this

maybe the howls could be like, specifically for figuring out location. the bird calls are for things like danger come here, safe, danger escape, time to go, etc etc. aah i love this so bad

ace having the habit of howling to see if his brothers are on the island with him is soooo. explodes. sometimes before luffy set out he’d start a call before remembering oh right, luffy’s still at dawn. the spades get used to it quickly, and some of the whitebeards question him, but ace never does much more than grin and say “force of habit.”

it probably doesnt occur to luffy to check like ace does until nanohana. he is OVERJOYED upon receiving a response

ahh sabo’s memories……… it’d feel strangely familiar. he returns the howl without really thinking about it. whoever hes with looks at him like hes lost it, but he doesnt really care because it’s deeper and stronger but he knows hes heard it before. after a few moments, he hears it again, and then he’s taking off in that direction because his head is pounding and he needs to figure out who this is

thank u for the ask !! ugh i love thjs

[trippinsorrows]

dreamland: office visits

later that day...

Moving around with a four month-old and two two year-olds is a bit of a challenge. Far from impossible but far from easy. Partially due to the fact that Solana hasn’t really taken her baby boy out much since he was born. Roman’s preference. Her husband not wanting to risk their son catching anything given his still weakened immune system. And, she was okay with that. Okay with mostly staying at home as she finished out the semester, aided by the help of her husband who’s worked from home the past few months so that it wouldn’t all be on her.

Again, very much appreciated. His assistance and hands-on approach with all the kids truly makes the biggest difference to and for her. 

It’s why she makes the minor sacrifice to gather up the kids to go see him at his office. Largely due to Lina and Leya who have somehow learned that when that tiny contact photo of Roman is on her screen, that means they’re talking. And God forbid these girls go too long without some type of interaction with their father.

Solana can count on both hands and feet just a few of the times she’s had to call Roman so he could speak with their twins or even just let them hear his voice just to get them down for a nap or because they wouldn’t settle down unless they could talk to daddy. 

It makes her smile though, because as stressful as it can be at points, she doesn’t mind it. Doesn’t mind it one bit. She loves how attached the girls are to Roman. He deserves it. Especially with how much he struggled to feel worthy of them during her pregnancy and their first few weeks of life.

“Daddy!”

Lina’s happy exclamation alerts Solana that they’ve in fact pulled up to Bloodline Headquarters, a massive building both her girls recognize like the back of their hand.

Something tells her Tama will be the same. 

It’s another process, getting all three kids out of their carseats and especially Tama into his baby wrap, a process largely aided by an observant Jacob who makes sure the girls don’t try to run off. More Lina than anything. She definitely inherited her daddy’s lack of patience, especially when it comes to seeing him.

It’s almost like waiting is impossible for her.

Thankfully, it’s a trait not shared by her sister, granted, Solana can clearly see the influence of one sister on the other. Even now as she follows behind the girls, Jacob in front of them, into the building. A small smile on her face when she sees Lina stop and look back at Leya who’s lagging somewhat. “Leya, come!” A shout that’s cloaked in love and concern, Lina taking Leya’s hand so they can walk in synch together. 

The smile deepens. 

Solana loves their relationship with their dad, but it’s got nothing on their relationship with one another.

Kissing the top of a quiet Tama’s head, she murmurs, “you’ve got awesome big sisters, baby boy.”

He truly does. 

The elevator ride consists of the girls talking to each other (more Lina talking to a mostly quiet Leya), occasionally to her, their topics all over the place and easily guided by the random things they notice in the elevator. Buttons. Lights. An emergency phone. They’re both extremely attentive. 

But, it’s as soon as they reach thee floor, the bell dinging, the doors opening, Lina grabs Leya’s hand again and guides her out the elevator. More running than anything. As much as their little legs allow them to run. 

As always, Jacob doesn’t let too much distance get between him and the girls as they move over to Alicia’s desk, Lina being the first to shout, “daddy!”

Alicia smiles and laughs. “Well, hello there, Ms. Lina and Leya.” She stands up, gasping in awe. “Look at your adorable outfits!” Her gaze shifts to Solana, complimenting, “you always dress them so nicely.”

Appreciated, kind words. “Thank you so much.” Solana alternates between dressing them in matching items and letting their outfits reflect their different personalities, and today just so happens to be a differing looks day. And even Solana can admit that her girls look absolutely adorable in their little dresses and accessories. 

Leya’s smile is bashful. Lina’s smile is loud and bright. Hand behind Tama’s head, Solana reminds, “what do you say?”

Lina says it for both of them, Leya remaining her quiet self. “Thank you!”

“You’re very welcome,” she giggles, standing up, most likely to alert Roman of their arrival. “I’ll let him know—”

“Run!”

Lina’s exclamation is followed by her, still holding Leya’s hand, rushing the two over to the double set of doors they know belong to their favorite person in the whole wide world. 

“Girls,” Solana’s attempt to gather them back by her is truly in vain. Walking over after quietly motioning for Jacob to wait near the elevators, she watches Catalina reach up on the tips of her little toes to pull on the handle. Leya, the forever cheerleader, happily bounces, rooting her sister on in their collaborative determination to not be defeated by some door.

Shaking her head, Solana walks over, ready to help them out when someone beats them to it. 

The man himself, her handsome husband, opening and immediately looking down.

“Daddy!” 

Shared excitement as they both throw themselves against his legs, instantly deciding that’s not good enough, two sets of arms lifted and stretched with one request in mind.

Roman’s smile is small and contained, but Solana can see through it. Can see through the front he’s trying to manage, can see his happiness at seeing his girls. It’s felt as he lifts them up, one in each arm. 

Solana giggles. “Told you they were excited to see you.” Roman’s gaze is briefly on her and then a still quiet Tama. “Him. Not so much.”

Roman chuckles, stepping aside and allowing her to enter. She closes the door behind her and naturally moves over to the sofa, placing the diaper bag on the floor beside her.

Going to unwrap Tama so she can hold him and allow Roman a chance to do so as well, the sound of the twins talking incessantly to their best friend fills the room.

Roman always seems to be just the cure for Leya's silence.

“Daddy, play!”

“You want me to play?” He feeds into it, Solana looking over just in time to see him take in their outfits. “Mommy dressed you both very pretty today.”

Leya’s response is to blush and bury her face into his shoulder. Lina, however, beams and points in her direction. “Mommy pretty!”

Roman chuckles. “Mommy is very pretty.” Solana chews on her bottom lip, laying Tama over her shoulder. “But, so are you two.”

The girls giggling accompany Solana standing up and walking over, gently rubbing Tama’s back. “Girls, let daddy hold your brother for a couple minutes.”

Expected shared scowls that are whipped away by Roman saying something to them in Samoan. Lina is the first to wiggle out of his grasp followed by Leya. Solana shakes her head, carefully handing a still pleasantly quiet Tama to her husband. 

“Hi, baby,” Solana finally greets, leaning up to kiss her husband on her cheek. She waits for Roman to adjust their son before commenting, half joking, half serious. “Maybe he’ll stay quiet like this when he gets to be their age.”

Roman rolls his eyes. “Not with Lina for a big sister.” He then asks, assessing her. “How you feeling?”

“I’m good,” she answers, honestly. “Never a dull moment with—Lina!” Solana is interrupted by noticing her two year-old daughter standing up in Roman’s chair, using the table to force herself to spin around. “Catalina, get down right now!”

Roman also makes sure to support Tama’s head as he turns to see what his wife was looking at that prompted her to switch to Spanish. He back hers up, ordering, “Lina, get down now.” 

And to be fair, their energetic little girl follows the request of both her parents. She just does it in a very Catalina Reigns way.

Waiting until she’s at a semi stop, Solana can only open her mouth to yell 'no' when Lina bends her knees and jumps off the chair, falling down and rolling onto the ground.

“Lina!” 

Solana overhears Roman curse as the parents move over to their daughter, along with Leya who yelled out, “sissy!”

But while Solana is concerned, Roman stressed, and Leya nervous, Lina is laughing her head off as Solana kneels to the ground and helps her sit up.

“Catalina, are you okay, baby?” Solana has her hands all over her daughter, feeling for any sort of knots or sensitive areas, only for her daredevil child to continue laughing, now recruiting her sister in the laughter.

She nods happily, Leya reaching over to hug her “big” sister, as Lina yells, “again!”

“Lina,” Roman’s deep voice shifts into something stern and authoritative. “No.”

Her pout is expected as is the way she takes Leya’s hand, standing up and racing over to the sofa, the sisters giggling together for reasons Solana doesn’t quite understand but doesn’t question either.

A sister thing.

Blowing out a deep breath, Solana stands up, sharing a look with her husband.

"I'll order the gates the minute we get home."

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Technomancer

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“Would someone like to explain to my three wives why the in the nine hells I was called in on my one day off?”

Chief Detective Fargra Mcuff looked around the bullpen at the gathered detectives and low level robotic magistrates running about. The magistrates were only programmed to deliver pressing dispatches or carry in suspects for interrogation, and the detectives were smart enough to avoid the Chief Detective when he was on the war path and quickly dispersed or made themselves scarce.

“Aster!” the chief shouted at the nearest detective that was too slow to vanish into the background. With no other avenue of escape they sighed and shuffled over to Fargra.

“Sorry, sir, but it seems we grabbed ourselves a big fish.”

“Explain.”

Aster motioned for the Chief to follow and the pair started navigating through the bullpen.

“Last night we had someone walk through a security checkpoint at the orbital dock.”

“Is that meant to surprise me?” Fargra grunted as he squeezed between two magistrate units. “Literally thousands of passengers pass through the docks daily.”

“No sir,” Aster continued, “I mean they literally walked through the security checkpoint.”

“I don’t follow.”

The pair stopped just outside of interrogation room B7. Aster ran his hand through his head tendrils as he gathered himself.

“They walked through the security checkpoint without going through any of the security scanners or restricted materials detectors.” He tapped on the door behind him leading into the room. “Security doors opened wide for this guy and he strode right through as if they owned the place. The only reason we have them is because there was a technician on site doing repair work who quickly alerted the rest of the dock about the breach.”

His interest piqued, Fargra nodded at the door and Aster opened it.

Interrogation room B7 was divided into two parts, a standard holding area where the subject was chained to a metal table and chair, and the observation area that overlooked the holding area via a one-way glass panel. The door the pair just entered through led straight into the observation area and Fargra got his first good look at the suspect.

He was surprised to say the least when the subject was wearing a bright blue hoodie and orange pants. The suspect was chained up facing the panel and Fargra could see that they were in fact human, which explained the outlandish attire.

“How did that walking atrocity of fashion walk through one of the most secure locations on the planet?” Fargra asked as he walked over to the window for a better look. “With a getup like that half the security cameras in that place should have marked them for a crime against style.”

Aster shrugged. “Here’s where it gets even crazier sir, they didn’t appear on any of the cameras.”

“What, like they knew where they were and walked around them?” Fargra asked.

“By eye witness accounts they walked straight down the main causeway like the rest of the crowd, but when reviewing the camera feeds for both the automated security and camera units they don’t appear at all.”

Aster leaned up against the panel of glass and joined the Chief observing the suspect. “Wherever they went it was like they just got erased from the picture and a blank space was plastered over it.”

With the mystery deepening the Chief realized why they had called him in. Someone who could so brazenly walk past their most advanced security systems without being seen was on par with a national security risk. Hell, there was no telling if they were acting alone or smuggling something or someone else along with them on to the planet which opened a whole new can of crumbrum problems.

“We got an ID on our mystery guest yet?”

“Aside from their species we got nothing on them.” Aster motioned over to a nearby table with a strange variety of items strewn across it.

“These were their possessions at the time of the arrest. No ID, galactic passport, not even a citizen registration chip embedded into their body.”

“And yet somehow they were able to board a trans-system flight.” Fargra finished for his detective as he examined the items. The mystery was now turning into his most perplexing with this new information.

Travel between systems was largely allowed by all species, but still heavily monitored and regulated. No one could leave their home system without some form of identification to resolve transportation disputes or cultural differences that might spark interplanetary disputes. Yet here was someone with nothing, which means that wherever they came from they had also bypassed security on that end as well.

He looked up from the belongings to look back at the human and saw that their mouth was moving, but he couldn’t hear anything.

“Do we have audio for the room?”

Aster nodded. “It’s been playing and recording since they were brought in.”

He nodded at the suspect. “Then why can’t I hear what they’re saying?”

Aster turned to follow the Chief’s gaze and was surprised as well.

“Guess they got nothing to say out loud.”

Fargra watched the human silently mouthing away and a thought occurred to him.

“Have the station AI monitor the feed to the room and initialize the lip reading program, then have it transcribe everything they are mouthing.”

Aster nodded in agreement and went over to a nearby wall. He tapped a panel and a small keyboard appeared with which he entered in the new parameters for the room.

While that was going on Fargar took another look at the effects. His scaled hands sifted through a small bag removing nothing of notice. A dated magazine from an orbital shop, a packet of generic chewing candy, a tube of teeth cleaner; and then something that did catch his eye.

A golden watch; or at least what he thought was one. Physical time tracking constructs were a purely human instrument and he had never seen one before aside from pictures.

He flipped the small device in his hand and by accident hit a release latch. The front panel of the device popped open revealing the innards of the watch along with a strange delicately carved symbol; a large cogwheel with a lightning but crossing atop it.

The symbol meant nothing to him but pulled out his communicator to reach out to a contact that might know it.

“Fargar you handsome sack of shit, how are you?”

The formality of the insult made Aster stifle a snort as Fargar held his communicator closer.

“Doing well, though knowing what a sorry sack of flesh you are I won’t bother asking about your current standing.” Fargar retorted.

The voice laughed back. “So, what can your friendly human relations officer Samson do for you?”

“I’ve got a strange one for you.” Fargar began. “We just caught a human with no ID walking through a security checkpoint.”

He hefted the watch again. “The only identifying thing we got on them was a gold watch with a symbol of a cogwheel and a lightning bolt; does that ring any bells?”

“Can’t say I’ve heard of that one.” Samson replied. “It doesn’t match with the latest criminal identifiers we have on file; let me do a quick search.”

There was a pause while his human contact opened up a data search with the description he was given. Several minutes passed before Samson’s voice finally returned.

“Listen to me,” they spoke with an oddly serious tone, “I need you to be absolutely sure that the symbol you just told me is what you actually saw.”

“I’m looking at the damn thing right now.” Fargar replied confused as Aster returned to join him at the viewing window. “It’s carved into the inside of this gold watch that was on their person.”

A long pause separated the two as Fargar speaking with someone quietly on their end in a frantic hushed manner.

“Terran peace keeping forces have been requested and should be at your location within three hours.” Samson responded. “It is imperative that you keep that suspect under lock and key until they arrive. Sedate them if you have to but do not let them leave or interact with technology under any circumstances.”

“What’s this about?”

“I don’t have all the details but running that symbol alone just set off a high level security lockdown on my terminal followed by a direct call from Terran Internal Security.”

“TIS?”

Fargar had never interacted with the human security but had heard the rumors. They handled things quietly and internally without much fuss, and if they were up in arms about this mystery human they weren’t to be taken lightly.

“They’re called the “Technomancer”, and can access any tech they get their hands on.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got them locked in an interrogation room under observation.”

“Good,” Samson sounded much calmer, “just keep them there without any interaction with technology.”

“I mean,” Aster spoke up, “we do have the AI monitoring them right now.”

“Why? Have they said anything?”

“No, but they have been mouthing something.” Fargar spoke up, shooting Aster a glare to be quiet.

Just then the wall panel began chiming and a data fee began displaying.

“In fact it just finished transcribing what they’ve been mouthing.”

He leaned over and quickly read the details, but none of it made sense.

“def login(): Authorization override while (flag-0)…”

Fargar kept reading it out loud but stopped after three more lines of gobblygook.

“It doesn’t make any-“

“SHUT THEM UP NOW!” Samson all but shouted into the communicator.

The pair of detectives turned back to the panel and saw the human suspect now looking directly at them before the lights went out. ----------------------------

“Greetings, new chief inspector.” The automate AI voice drone inside the holding area. “How may I assist you?”

“Reclassify all organic beings, excluding myself, inside this station as violent offenders.” The human spoke softly. “Detention parameters overruled for all magistrate units, lethal force authorized for continued preservation of peace.”

“Understood.” the AI’s voice chimed.

----------------------------

From outside the interrogation room Fargar could hear the sounds of screams. Aster drew their sidearm and quickly exited the room only to have a waiting Magistrate robot’s fist crash into their head.

Bits of bone and flesh showered the Chief Detective as Aster’s lifeless body collapsed to the floor as the machine entered the room. Fargar was faster on the draw and his weapon was in his hand before Aster’s body had even hit the ground.

Three electro rounds penetrated the robots body and the machine sparked violently before collapsing to the ground.

From outside the room Fargar could see the bright flashes of weapons fire as his detectives now fought for their lives against the previously peaceful Magistrate robots who now seemed hell-bent on eviscerating them.

It was code…

The final pieces came together as he let his weapon recharge.

The human had been reading out a sequence command as if they were typing it in at a terminal and when read by the AI unit gave them direct access to their systems when it finished. They had just taken control over the entire station and their pale ass was still chained to a table!