#but a) youre never going to get rid of AI by whining about how much you hate it and b) you just. objectively cannot say it isnt art

[vacant2007]

wait r u pro ai 'art'? ????

not the "art" in quotations lmfaooooo

[chalkrevelations]

So, a whole complex of things I noticed in Ep 1 of Kiseki: Dear To Me:

First of all, the mental calculus Bai Zongyi does when he overhears his boss talking about the one-night stand who cleaned him out is HILARIOUS. He goes tearing back home, and I'm like, my guy. Even in your financial straits, why wouldn't you be willing to lose your rice cooker to get rid of the gangster blackmailing you into letting him hole up in your apartment living his best stay-at-home girlfriend life? If you get back home and your rice cooker is gone, but the actualfax criminal who took over your bed by repeatedly threatening to report you on ginned-up aggravated assault (if not murder) charges is also gone, is this not a net gain? I feel that many people would come to a different conclusion on that calculation than you did. Perhaps you do need help with math. (Protip: Your erstwhile math tutor is not unbiased.)

ANYWAY.

I think it's interesting and maybe telling that one of the things Zongyi overhears his boss saying is that "a greedy person steals everything." Because there's a few things going on here that relate to Fan Zherui, including the fact that he keeps insisting he's going to pay everything back double - triple, even! - even as he whines his way into getting Zongyi to bring home more and more stuff for him, too many treats for his "little tummy" supposedly to handle. (I see what you did there, A-Rui. I am not as dumb as a 17-year-old boy - usually at least - and you are not as slick as you'd like to think you are.) Additionally, Zherui tells Zongyi more than once that there's nothing worth stealing in his ratty little apartment, so apparently he has some standards, instead of just being greedy for whatever he can get his hands on.

BUT.

But when Zongyi gets home to find Zherui unlocked and still lounging around on his front balcony like a stray cat that's been fed, we discover that Zherui has taken something from Zongyi behind his back. Zongyi has very deliberately not told Zherui his name, including in a previous scene when Zherui explicitly asked for it. So at some point, Zherui has gone through Zongyi's stuff and discovered his name - and who knows what else about him. He's taken the identity that Zongyi wanted to keep from him, which is like a kind of theft.

How interesting, that nothing else in that little apartment is worth as much as Zherui's shoes, nothing else is worth taking, but Zongyi's name - his identity, his self - is. How interesting, that Zongyi is what Zherui sees value in, already, enough to be worth trying to steal for himself, figuratively, if not literally, at this point.

HOWEVER.

Almost immediately, Zherui tries to "pay back" Zongyi for what he's taken by offering his own name (which Zongyi has never asked for). It comes out as a kind of formal declaration "I, Fan Zherui, will ..." I don't know, something or other, whatever he says he's gonna do that is already out of my head because it's not as important as the fact that he felt he had to repay Zongyi by offering his own name in return for what he took. This is really, really noticeable, because while it's a good way for us, as the audience, to learn his name, it's not necessary, because Ai Di and Chen Yi have already talked to and about him, using his name, earlier in the episode.

That declaration of his name isn't there for the audience. It's solely for Zongyi.

If it's an exchange, it's not stealing, right?

How interesting, that Zherui wants Zongyi to have his name - his identity, his self - wants Zongyi to have him, that Zherui offers himself like this, even this early on.

Here I am. Take me. Keep me.

[justanotherblonde23]

An Unexpected Surprise - A Marcus Moreno Story

Author’s Note: So with some encouraging from my friends, I decided to post my writing! I know that technically we don’t know anything about Marcus Moreno, but that superhero dad has been taking up space in my mind rent free all week. I tagged people that I know wanted to read this and a few that I thought might enjoy it. Please let me know what you think! -Kat 

Content Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), P in V

Tags: @autumnleaves1991-blog @dindjarindiaries @frannyzooey @zeldasayer @hdlynnslibrary @jollyrancher87 @bisexual-space-slut @woakiees @scribbledghost @softpedropascal @catfishingmorales

Marcus trudged into the house, it was at least 2 in the morning, and he was absolutely exhausted. He was always exhausted these days; his age was catching up to him. He may be a part of the Heroics, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t getting older. He was balancing heroism, kids, a spouse, and trying to give them some semblance of a normal life. He was ready to retire, be involved in every aspect of the kids’ lives, and see his wife in more than just the middle of the night and before leaving for work. He had given enough of his life to the service of the world; now, it was about time to provide all of himself to his family. Missy, his eldest, was already 11 and getting older every single day. Jules, the baby of the family, was about to turn 5, just about to leave the toddler years behind her. He felt as if he had missed so much of their lives; he didn’t want to miss anymore. 

Most of the house lights had been turned off, signaling that most of the inhabitants were fast asleep. He hoped that at least he could get a kiss or two from the woman he loved. Maybe she would still be awake. He made his way up the stairs, checking the kids’ rooms. He planted soft kisses on their foreheads, smiling at their serene expressions. What beautiful little girls he had, he was the luckiest father in the world. 

He frowned, opening the door to the master bedroom; the soft glow of artificial light bathed the room in a yellow haze. There she was, his love, sitting in the middle of the bed, clearly wide awake, wearing her glasses and frowning at the hologram in front of her. Someone was working even later than Marcus himself. He took in her form; she still hadn’t noticed him quite yet. She was wearing a silky nightie that hit her upper thigh and a matching robe loosely tied around her. His cock stirred in his pants. Even as spent as he was from the day, the view in front of him made him want to take her to bed and fuck her senseless. 

“Dr. Moreno, hard at work, I see,” he teased. 

Her eyes shot up, smirking at him. I’m not quite Dr. Moreno yet, Marcus. You’d have to marry me first,” she teased. 

“We had a ceremony-” he started.

“And someone still hasn’t mailed the marriage certificate, even though it’s been two months. All you gotta do is bring it to the post office, baby. I’d do it myself, but somebody insisted that he’d be the one to do it.” 

Marcus groaned, falling onto the bed beside his wife (that’s what she was to him, even if he didn’t mail the marriage certificate yet). He heard some shuffling and a command for her AI system to file the holograms working on for the night. He’d lived with her for four years now, and he still hadn’t gotten used to all her tech. If he was a hero in name, she was the genius behind every piece of technology in his arsenal, as well as all of the other members of the Heroics. Her superpower was her mind, that gorgeous, intricate, genius mind of hers. Her ability to retain information, learn, critically think, and create was almost impossible to fathom truly. At 33, she had twelve doctorates in various fields, including engineering, physics, nanotechnology, and art history. Her thirst for knowledge and eagerness to invent was unparalleled, even among other enhanced individuals. He would never stop singing her praises; she was a wonder. 

“Marcus, baby, do you wanna shower and go to bed? It’s late.” 

He sighed, starting to relax into the feeling of her fingers carding through his hair. “Baby, if you keep that up, I’m gonna fall asleep right here and now. I took a shower at HQ before I left, so I’m good.” He opened his eyes when her fingers stilled, looking up at the beautiful woman with the soft smile leaning over him. 

“Do you think you can stay up for a little bit longer, honey? I have a surprise for you.” 

He sat up, scooting up against the headboard, kicking off his shoes. He felt wide awake now. His wife wasn’t typically one for surprises on any old day. He wracked his mind, trying to make sure that he hadn’t missed her birthday, their dating anniversary, or any other consequential, momentous occasion. 

“I didn’t forget a special day, did I? Fuck, amor. I’m so sorry if I did. I’ve been spread so damn thin since the wedding; I’ve been running around like a madman.” 

She placed a tiny cream-colored box in his hands, his wife sitting right in front of him, eyes sparkling with excitement. “You didn’t miss anything, Marcus, just open the box. You’ll like it, I promise.” 

He nodded, pulling at the perfect bow holding the box closed, carefully opening the lid. For a minute, he just stared at the contents of the box, his eyes wide with shock. Ever so slowly, he picked up a pair of teeny baby booties, placing them in his large palm. He took the second item out, a pregnancy test that digitally read, PREGNANT. His hands began to shake; tears began to overflow, tracking down his cheeks. He looked up, his gaze locked on the woman in front of him. 

“Sweetheart, are we-? Are you-? We’re- we’re having a baby?” he managed to choke out. 

There was one more item in the box, at the bottom, an ultrasound labeled Baby Moreno. He studied the picture intently, his thumb moving over the little blob on the paper. That was his baby, their baby. They were having a baby. 

“Holy shit,” he murmured, “we’re having a baby!”

A giggle made him raise his eyes once again. “That’s what I said, too. I’m about ten weeks along now. You’re going to be a daddy of three, Marcus Moreno.” 

He scooped up everything in his lap, dumping it on the nightstand. He quickly grabbed his wife, flipping her so that she was under him. He covered her face in kisses, whispering how beautiful she was, how she was so loved, so treasured, so cherished. How their baby was made of nothing but love, how they were precious cargo, and how he would protect both of them every single day of his life. He kissed down her jaw, down her neck, eliciting breathy moans from the woman underneath him. His kisses went lower and lower until he reached her belly, pulling her nightie up around her waist so that he could get to her bare stomach. He planted dozens of kisses all over her belly, in awe of the life growing in there. 

“Hey baby, it’s your daddy,” he cooed softly. “Your mommy and I already love you, little one, and you’ll have two big sisters that I just know will love you too. I can’t wait for you to be here, little baby. I promise I’ll be here for you.” 

He looked adoringly at the mother of his youngest child, grinning as if his world had been made complete, and in all honesty, it had been. This baby, this tiny little one growing inside of the woman that he loved most, filled a hole in his heart that he hadn’t even been aware of. 

He bit down on his lower lip, smirking while ever so slowly pulling off her panties. He would lavish the woman he loved with every ounce of devotion, adoration, and love he had to offer. A breathless Oh please, Marcus was all he needed to motivate him to continue. He opened her legs up, giving him access to her slit, wet and wanting. He groaned, the sight making his mouth water. If he had it his way, Marcus could spend hours between her thighs. Two fingers lightly toyed with her slit, moving up and down, collecting her slick. 

“Look at you, baby, so wet for me, and I’ve barely touched you. If this is what pregnancy does to you, amor, I might have to start keeping better work hours so I can spend my time between your thighs.” 

He could see her hips try to follow his fingers, desperate for more than he was giving her. “Marcus, don’t tease, please,” she whined. He chuckled, easily giving in to her pleas. He couldn’t say no to her, not tonight. 

He buried his head between her legs, tongue coming out to lick a broad strip all the way to the top of her slit, his nose nudging her clit. She tasted like heaven, making him moan into her core, sending pleasurable shivers up her spine. He speared his tongue into her, getting as deep as he could, fucking her pussy with his tongue while her fingers tangled themselves in his curls. He kept exploring her folds with his tongue, hitting all the spots he knew would make her see stars. 

He easily pushed in two fingers, causing her to buck her hips up, matching his pace. He focused his tongue on her clit, alternating between drawing lazy circles and sucking her into his mouth. His fingers hit that sweet spot inside her with every thrust, bringing her closer and closer to her release. Before he knew it, she was cumming around his fingers, squeezing him tight and pulling him deeper. His mouth flooded with the taste that was uniquely hers, prompting him to moan. He could feel himself rock hard in his pants, leaking with his arousal. 

He crawled off the bed, swiftly ridding himself of his clothes, placing his glasses safely on the nightstand. He grabbed her glasses as well, placing them next to his own. She had shrugged off her robe and nightie, languidly watching him, her eyes blown wide with desire. 

“Marcus, I need you inside of me,” she begged. His large cock rested heavy against his stomach, tip red and leaking. The thought of him inside of her was almost too much. She needed him, and she needed him right now. 

He settled over her, catching her lips in a deep, earth-shattering kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, letting her taste herself. Marcus was intoxicating, enthralling, and all she wanted was more. Finally, they broke apart, panting slightly. 

“Dr. Moreno, my lovely wife, mother of my child, let me make love to you. Let me show you how happy you make me, sweetheart. I want to make you touch the sky,” he whispered into her ear. 

She beamed at him, cradling his cheek gently. “Yes, baby, I’m all yours.” He leaned back in, catching her into another searing kiss. He worked his length up and down her slit, coating himself in her slick, bumping her clit a few times in the process. At last, he began to leisurely enter her, inch by inch. They both groaned when he bottomed out, fully seated inside of her. 

“Fuck honey, you’re just so tight, so wet, so warm for me,” he whimpered, moving inside her with slow, deep strokes. He wanted to make this last, to draw out her pleasure. With every thrust, he told her how good she felt, how beautiful she looked underneath him, how her pussy was made for him, how perfect she was. He could’ve gone like that for quite some time, slowly bringing her closer and closer to her high. Only her pleas of more, faster, harder made him speed up. 

He grabbed one of her legs, placing it higher on his hip, allowing him to hit deeper inside her. Her hips moved in unison with his own, meeting each thrust into her. He would never get tired of the pretty sounds she made for him when he was fucking her. Those breathy moans she let out, the babbling it all spurred him on. He could tell she was close. She always got so fucking wet and even tighter right before she came. He dropped a hand between them, rubbing hard, tight circles around her clit. Not even a half dozen thrusts later, and she was wailing in ecstasy, clamping down on him like a vice. He wasn’t far behind, spilling himself deep within her, muttering her name over and over like a prayer. 

He rolled off of her, panting, taking a minute to catch his breath as he gazed at her blissed-out form. Hair a mess, chest heaving, lips swollen from his kisses to Marcus, she was stunning. He couldn’t think of a moment when she was more gorgeous than right then and there. He could look at her forever, just like this. 

Eventually, he got up and grabbed a warm cloth, gently cleaning her off. Turning off the light, he climbed back into bed, pulling her body to his, cradling her close. He let his hand wander, rubbing soothing circles over her belly. 

“You’re gonna look so stunning, honey, all round with our baby. I promise I’ll take such good care of you. I’ll do whatever you need.” 

He could feel his wife sigh, completely relaxed in his arms. He held her close, basking in her warmth and the love between them. He let his mind wander, thinking of the future, thinking of this baby. 

“I’m gonna cut back at work, move more into an advisory role in the Heroics. As your pregnancy progresses, I’ll be able to work from home and take a solid chunk of paternity leave when the baby comes. I’ve given enough of myself to the world. It’s time for me to give everything I can to my family, to you, to the girls, to this baby. I’ll go drop off the marriage certificate tomorrow before I go into HQ to talk about restructuring my job. That way, you’ll officially be Dr. Moreno, even though you’ve already been that to me for a long time.” 

She answered him with a happy sigh and kisses to his hand that entwined with hers. “I’d like that, Marcus. It might be selfish, but I want you here, with us. We love you so much; it’s nice when you’re here. It makes our family complete.” 

They spent a few more minutes talking about the future, drifting off into deep, dreamless sleep. The thought of tomorrow was full of bright promises, just waiting to be embraced. 

[muffindaddystyles]

Okay but vamp!harry x reader where the reader goes for a late night walk alone because she’s feeling anxious (Harry tries to insist on coming with but she says no) but soon he can sense somethings wrong and goes to look for her and finds her in a dangerous situation! I need protective vampire Harry 🥺

Disclaimer: Reader with ADHD, Vampire!H x fem!reader, cock warming.

Harry's been doing humanly things. Moreso trying for his little human whom he doesn't want to dissapoint when she's making ećlairs or pop tarts for him and all he knows is to eat them despite of being a helping hand. His fingers are magical —--- they relax her in the most livid way while he's feeding from her. Honestly, it's all she wants. Her making sweets for him and him pleasuring her in the most bizarre way.

But. Sometimes she get's emotionally exhausted that the physical activities looks like breaking a mountain for her and all she does is snuggle under the snoozy layers of her childhood blankets cuddling her cat to calm her down.

Now her tranquility is Harry.

It's one of those days. She's been feeling like a failure. An utter dimwit for not getting what's happening in her sociology class, why her neighbours are always grumpy with her and why she isn't able to study anything. It's depressing her.

Harry never left her side. She's like a honey gooed all over him not even letting him bring the pizzas he ordered for them, "Don't!" She squeaks in a weak voice catching his wrists and he sits back cupping the nape of her neck looking straight in her eyes to assure her with his whole existence, "'ey baby . . my sweet girl 'm not goin' anywhere. Delivery boy's been waiting outside -- just a mo', yeah?" He sponges a gentle kiss at her temple stroking her cheek to calm her down.

They've rented a VR receiver and alot of silver movies watching them while eating pizza. She giggles and Harry smiles goofily when he had to hit the receiver twice to make it work, "c'mon you should know how all of this work old man." He strides towards her pulling her up with armpits into his embrace and tickling hard.

"Old man huh!? Ol' ma —" He pretends to eat her whole and she squeals between her laughs, "'m sorry you're my man!" Huffs smugly giving her a breather and pecks her not twice but thrice. If he could kiss her all day. He would. She's his human. It surprises him sometimes when he's alone with his thoughts. He loves her to fucking bits and pieces.

When she's like this everyone and everything feels outta her reach. As if they're miles away from her and she's standing in barren cold. In the amidst of sappy movie she shrinks closer to him stuffing her face into his ribs wounding her leg around his abdomen and he makes her feel warm wrapping his arms around her to push her up on his thigh. Snapping his gaze down at her when the lil sniffs of her reached his ears, "What's wrong kitten . . . hurts to see ya like this baby. Love you so much." He never fails to promise that he loves her to core.

"'M jus . . . thinking tha –-- that when I'll die you'll be still here 'n . . . 'n y'would get so lonely." She hiccups without a break, "Dunno. Can't stop crying 'm sorry." She gives out an ugly sob into his chest. It's breaking his already feeble heart. God he could scream the affection to the moon he have for this girl. In such a tragic moment all she is thinking is about him.

He cups squishes both her cheeks with his calloused palms telling her to breath with slow gestures then when she's way better speaks in his softest voice, "My baby listen to me hmm? We're never thinking of future don't wan'ye to wreck ye'r beautiful brain for stupid deaths --- secondly too bad miss Y/N 'm gonna cling to ye like leech of your nightmares." He wipes her tears away ever so caringly and gives her eskimo kisses while she giggles snorting at the end when Harry brought his big goldfish orbs in the middle to make her laugh.

"'M glad to have you." She whispers smudging her wet lips softly against his's into a heart melting blood warming kiss and Harry shushes her when she whines clutching the hem of his sweater, "bite me? She asks politely rather than being batty as for she was being within past days rilling him upto extreme to get her neck and skin sprinkled with hickeys that turns into bites.

"Don't wanna hurt ye', lovie." He pushes her hair away peering down at her with pleading worried eyes, "you wouldn't. promise." He nods flushing her against his chest positioning her head into the crook of his neck. Making her hug him like a koala bear.

Rubs her back. Pats her hair. Sways her along him rather than the seductive warnings he used to give her. He's afraid. She's too fragile at the moment. He'd never forgive himself if something will happen to her, "'m gonna bite. Stop me if ye' don't want it o' hurts." He runs his palms at her sides making her all squirmy.

He pushes her fangs ever so gently to her sweet spot. If she's made of glass making her moan and tight her grip around him warming up his cock in his trousers. It's not always about you dumber. He scolds himself. Suckling lightly and pulling back in a pinch of moment. It's the first time he has almost pretended to drink from her. She's all sleepy in his hold. He carries her to bed and when tries to untangle himself so he could turn the telly off she whines not letting him.

Despite of these much blankets she's still feeling cold. From inside. It feels empty and she isn't liking it at all. Writhes and squirms causing Harry to ask, "ye okay there lovie'?" When she shakes her head with glassy eyes and a pout he understands.

"Cold." Is all she had to say and he's guessing the next, "in ye'r tummy?" When she bobs her head confirming he sighs softly pulling the elastic of his trousers down to free his dick getting rid of the item woving his calves with her, thighs between thighs and places a firm hand on her back moving his thumb into circles non-stop.

"Oh me lil dovlin' c'mere . . want me cock to warm ye up baby? 'S okay s' okay darlin'." He murmurs against her lips tugging at his foreskin hissing when the head of his thick cock gets pushed between their bellys due to approximty. Precome oozes from his strokes and he takes her panties off swiping his crown over her hole to lubricate her. Wounds his arm around the nape of her neck to lap at her mouth swallowing her whines and cries while sliding inside her compact walls twisting his stomach awfully, "shhh. shhh baby love. I got ya. Gonna take care of ye ---- try to sleep. I'll be waiting fo' ye in the morning." Once, situating himself deep and snug inside her. He keeps on embracing her like a little baby.

Next morning though she woke up happy. Harry made her brekkie. Special smiley pancakes with heart shaped eyes from the little strawberry toppings. He really took advantage of his time while she was snoring her ass off. A peach smoothie and cashewnuts. Fed Meowsie. Gave her his morning lovin'. They had the meal together.

He helped her learn some of her course. Then in afternoon made lunch together egg fried rice and stirred vegetables Y/N went to give some of it to their neighbours. Lady Nat asked her if she's okay cause she has stopped stomping in her flat and it made her feel good, weirdly.

//

Maybe it's seasonal sadness that she couldn't get out of it. Harry's in the kitchen cleaning up shelves when he hears the rustle of carpet. He peeks from the wall to find her pooling into a big hoodie and slipping into her shoes. He frowns throwing the rag away to walk towards her immediately, "where ye' goin' lovie? Ye' okay what happened?" He runs his hands over her shoulders to her hair making her meet his eyes.

She nods squeezing his wrists, "don't worry just wanna . . . take a walk — clear my head." Hearing this he quickly moves to wear his jacket.

"'M goin' with you." He declares and she knows if that'll happen she wouldn't be able to, "No. Alone." She fumbles with the strings of her hoodie. He sighs not fond of the idea brows knighting together thumbing at her jaw with concern screaming in his eyes.

"Can I mark you then?" He asks knowing what hides in the shadows of outside; creatures evil than his entire existence. He doesn't want to make her feel like she owes him explanations for her each and every movement but gosh does it scare him to his bones. She's the only person who could make him weak into knees and a mesh of puddle at the thought of even the thorn pricking her, "okie." She cranes her neck and it still amuses him she's exactly how she was when he first met her. That gentle rose under the moon meant for Harry to care and water with love.

After adorning her with a crimson mark and little peck he tugs her closer hooking his nose to her hair taking a good sniff of her cocoa scent, "keep your phone in ye' hand and don't walk through the cherry street." There's nothing there but stray dogs that she's afraid of. It's better he advises her.

"Ai. Ai captain!" She salutes him stomping her feet and he chuckles kissing her cheek wet-ly, "Go before I change me mind."

//

He wanted it not to creep it to his mind but it's not helping AT ALL. He's been restless and it's been fifteen minutes since she has left. He's sitting sunk into sofa with Meowsie snuggled under his chin while he shakes his knees, cracks his knuckles, combs his hair and groans into his palms. In short throwing tantrum like a toddler missing her already and constantly worrying about her. Something doesn't feel right at all. That gut wrenching horror of losing her biting him alive.

He mutters a fuck it going to look for her and bring her back home. He was right. He has always been. Good at instincts. For fuck's sake. He's a vampire!

Y/N was walking along the path which's the lead way to a park when a dark vibe gloomed over her head. The next she knows is she's being pinned to a wall with demonic eyes snatching at her soul: it takes her breath away outta horror.

"No wonder why Harry kisses the earth you walk on." He chuckles darkly accent an old Scottish and she gulps eyes stinging with tears, "I would to . . if I get to drink such sweet ripe blood." Her eyes widens when his fangs pokes out from his gums glistening under the lamp light.

She tries to kick him in balls to get rid of his painful grip when an angry growl echoes towards them loudly and the person who had her trapped wooshes from her sight in a bolt to ground making her shriek.

"She's not a fuckin' feeder stay the fuck away from her!!" Harry grits spitting venom. Choking the person under him, "tol' ya she's my girl and I'll shred everyone alive if they'll even breath in her direction." She has never seen him this furious. Tone harsh and snappy she never heard coming from him it makes her cry.

He had warned his fellows when the news of him spread that he has bonded to human. But well they've thick skulls.

The man under him just smirks pushing him away and coughing into his elbow standing up. "Whatever thought sharing is caring, Styles." Harry glares him resentfully. Fisting a punch at his side but stables himself when a dainty hand wraps around his fingers clutching tight.

He turns ducking down to her level cupping her cheeks and tries to examine her for any kind of injury, "ye' okay? Did he hurt you? Tell me and — " she rubs her nose with the sleeve of her hoodie shaking her head vigorously.

"No. 'M fine sorry should've listened to you." He puffs out a breath of guilt letting his forehead fall against her's, "don't be sorry -- it's none of ye'r fault baby."

"Glad you're safe." He whispers hugging her with the sway of bodies, "I love you." She tells him honestly tip-toeing to kiss him and it unfortunately reaches his silky jaw only.

"And all the things you do for me." He grins down at her. He lives on praises. The cheeky bastard.

"How about eatin' ice-cream while taking swings in the park?" He intertwines their hands warmly kissing her knuckles and she quips excitedly, "sounds great!"

.

AN: idk why read more button isn't working sorry for the bug.

[emwritesfootball]

Treble Win | Benjamin Pavard

can you write one where you worked for Bayern and hanging out a lot with the players on their spare time. one day (on the Treble winning night), you drunk too much and accidentally had sex with Benjamin Pavard😍🥵

Normally, I hate writing people as staff members or anything (especially physios) but I couldn’t figure out what another good player-centric position was (and didn’t want to do any research oops) so I picked physio. Enjoy xx

- - -

As one of the youngest members of the physio staff, it made sense that you got on well with the players. You made sure to never have any conflicting interests, though - when it was time to work, you were engrossed in your job; when you were off the clock, you were ‘one of the lads’. As someone who’d just turned 24 - and had celebrated their birthday with the guys after training one day - you were especially close with Serge, Leon, and Benjamin Pavard. The four of you seemed to always be inseparable both on and off the pitch, so when Bayern won the UEFA Champions League and effectively won a treble for the second time in the club’s history, it felt like you’d won, too. 

You watched like a proud mother as each team member lifted the trophy and celebrated with it, smiling especially wide when Serge, Leon and Benjamin got their turns. Your boss let you know that there was going to be a celebration once the groundskeepers were able to convince everyone to leave the pitch and that you were naturally invited.

The post-win after party was unlike anything you’d ever experienced, as surreal as the win itself, if you had to describe it. All the hard work of the season had paid off and now the team was partying like they were making up for all the days they could have partied but hadn’t. The alcohol was flowing, but you’d stuck to your one-drink-an-hour-with-water limit, wanting to take it all in so you could look back on this moment with clarity. 

Benjamin had been eyeing you all night, watching as you danced first with Serge and Leon, then the two together. He was working his way through his second beer, trying to find some confidence that only liquid courage could offer. Sure, he was just coming off a Treble win, but he still wasn’t quite sure how to make a move with you. You were the only person he wanted to celebrate with and he’d been trying to figure out if it was even a good idea to mix business and pleasure with you, but he’d come to know you well over the course of the season and he knew you were worth it.

You bounded over to the bar, a smile on your face as you ordered another drink. You looked in his direction and caught his eye, your smile widening as you made your way over to him. “Congrats on the win,” you said, taking a sip of your cold beer that was just what you needed after all the dancing you’d done.

“Thank you,” Benjamin replied with a nod and a small smile that had butterflies erupting in your stomach. “It still feels a bit surreal.”

“I bet. I can’t quite believe I landed this job here and for my first year to be the year we win the Treble? C’est fou.”

Benjamin’s ears perked up at your use of French. It wasn’t the best because you were still in the very early stages of learning the language, but he was still in awe nonetheless. “D’accord.”

Your stomach flipped at the French that easily rolled off his tongue. You knew it was his first language and you’d heard him speak it on occasion, but tonight was different. There was a charged energy in the air between you two and you wanted to find out how deep it ran. You swallowed hard, gathering up your courage. It was your third beer of the night but with all the water you’d been drinking in between, you were almost painfully sober and you wished you’d had a little bit of help from alcohol right about now. Your tongue peeked out to wet your bottom lip and you didn’t miss the way Benjamin’s eyes tracked the movement. You surveyed the crowd of players and staff, your gaze falling on Lucas and his wife Amelia - she was sitting in his lap, her arms around him; the two looking at each other with adoration and barely-concealed lust and something inside you snapped. “Do you ever regret not seriously dating someone after a big win like this?” You asked Benjamin, no longer worried about filtering your words. 

Benjamin was stunned at your candor, but he saw his opening and he was determined to make his move. “Sometimes, but then I realize that in times like this, I can celebrate with whomever I feel like celebrating with in the moment without worrying about being beholden to someone else.”

“Oh, really?” You asked, a smirk creeping up on your lips as you turned to look at him. “Who would you be having a celebratory fuck with tonight if you could?” Your body was alight with sensations, your mind still not catching up with your mouth and you were hoping to God you wouldn’t regret this later.

He turned towards you, taking your chin in his hand as he leaned down to whisper, “I’m not sure you want to know the answer to that question.”

“I’m not a fragile doll, Pavard. Tell me.” You didn’t know where this confidence was coming from but you liked it and you could tell Benjamin did too.

“You.” His lips brushed across the outer shell of your ear as he spoke the word, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. All you could do was look up at him through your lashes, biting down on your bottom lip - a move Benjamin didn’t miss.

You slid a hand up his forearm, watching him react to your touch. It wasn’t the first time you’d touched him, obviously, but it was the first time you’d touched him with any intent that wasn’t friendly or for work. Things were about to change between the two of you and you were ready. “What do you say you come find me at the end of the night and if we’re both still feeling it - and we’re sober - we give in to whatever this is?”

“Comme tu veux.” The words were whispered in your ear once more, Benjamin brushing a light kiss across your cheek that left you gasping for air as he walked away and chatted with some of his teammates. As you wish.

***

Three hours later, you found yourself falling into bed with him. Both of you had had a few more drinks, but you couldn’t have been more sober or eager for this to happen. Benjamin pinned you against his front door the moment it closed behind you, his mouth on yours in a heated kiss that was long overdue. You met him kiss for kiss as your hands came up and tangled in his hair. The kiss held all the pent-up feelings both of you’d had during the season, some you didn’t even realize you had. Images of his body underneath your capable hands as you palpated his various muscles had you wet - you knew what his body felt like but now you’d get to explore in a new way and the feeling was overwhelming. 

“Viens avec moi,” he rasped as he kissed your neck, pulling your body flush against his. Come with me. You moaned as you felt every inch of him pressed against you in all the best places, your panties surely soaked by now. Benjamin’s hands drifted down and cupped your ass greedily. “Jump.”

You did as he said, jumping and hooking your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom, both of you sharing goofy grins along the way. It was your turn to kiss his neck, nibbling on his earlobe as you enjoyed the sounds you elicited from him. Benjamin laid you on the bed, covering your body with his as he started to explore your body with his hands. “J'en ai rêvé,” he murmured as he bared your breasts, kissing the tops of each one before sucking each distended nipple in his mouth. I’ve had dreams about this. 

“Moi aussi,” was all you were able to gasp, your back arching and your eyes shuttering closed at the pleasure. Me too. All the sensations went straight to your clit and you couldn’t help wondering just how good it would feel when Benjamin finally got his mouth on your pussy. 

You didn’t have to wait long to find out, Benjamin’s skillful hands quickly ridding you of your jeans and panties, pressing kisses to the insides of your knees and up your inner thighs to tease before he finally got to your cunt. He lapped at your wetness, little hums of pleasure coming from him to mix with your needy mewls. It wasn’t long before your fingers were tangled in his hair, your legs locked around his face like a vise as you rode his face to an intense orgasm. 

Before he could do it himself, you were freeing his cock, ready to reciprocate some of what you’d just received. Benjamin groaned at the sight of you going down on him, slobbering all over his quickly-hardening cock. When he’d had enough of your mouth, he grabbed you off him, reveling in the confused whine that left your lips before he had you on your back as he lined up his cock with the entrance to your pussy. 

Your nails raked down his back, your body dripping in sweat but so overstimulated you knew a second orgasm was imminent. Your name was on his lips as he buried his face in the crook of your neck while he picked up the pace. “Fuck!” You exclaimed, your orgasm building. “Benjamin!”

When you came it was just as mind blowing as the first, the feeling of Benjamin’s cum coating your inner walls what sent you over the edge. Benjamin pulled out of you and laid next to you as you both caught your breath. You got up shortly after to clean yourself up, catching a glimpse of your freshly-sexed-and-satisfied reflection. 

By the time you got back, Benjamin was ready for another round, taking you in a different position this time. The two of you spent the rest of the night and the next morning “celebrating”, not sure when you’d actually end up leaving the hotel room. 

Forever Tags: @chilly-me-softly @savingprivatecass @inlovewithamess @footballdaydream @brewsterbabyy @bbychilly @jamesdanielmaddison @hmminnbirdd @sweetlikesugar9 @lawsandother @eastxfeden @words-for-marcus @eatsleepbreathefutbol @hoelymolywinksy @marco-asensios @kingkepaff @meteora-fc

[anika-ann]

A Matter of Trust

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 5470 (oops)

Summary: You and Steve get to go to a mission together after a while; free drinks, partying, dressing-up nicely, stealing blueprints, the usual. You might even enjoy this as a couple.

Or… not really. Of course something would go awry. What else did you expect when wearing these killer heels anyway?

A/N: Written for or @wkemeup​’s 4k writing challenge; congratulations! Well-deserved, no arguing here; shall the number continue to grow ;) Thank you for letting me participate!

Prompt: “Get in the closet, now!” (bold in the text)

Warnings: suggestive language, mentions of a kink, objectification, gun violence (brief), swearing (always), attempt at humour, fluff…?

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In your whole history as an operative of S.H.I.E.L.D. slash Avenger, time had never dragged so slowly as it did at this party.

Not even Steve’s presence cheered you up, mostly because he was busying himself with being everyone’s company but yours despite you two coming here together. For a mission. To work, you reminded yourself.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t been there for the plan-making which had resulted in mutual agreement of Steve falling into the role of an honourable man whose infamous good nature prevented him from saying no to anyone who asked for a moment with him even if it meant leaving you alone. Which you supposedly mind, because you were here with him only to sneak in here and possibly get your five minutes of glory if he stood by your side long enough

And that was only an act for people who would have noticed you had arrived together.

For the others, you simply attended the party – a known cover-up for a place of business in arms-deal among the powerful men of the underground world – to have fun and seduce some rich businessman.

Sipping from the very same glass of champagne you had helped yourself with about an hour ago, you scanned the room in the search for the big boss. No, not Steve, but the man of the hour, the one whose blueprints you were meant to steal. The blueprints of a potentially large bomb that could kill tens of thousands if it went kaboom and released the nanoparticles of a dangerous virus to the air.

Lovely. Someone clearly had too much time on their hands coming up with crap like that only to make your life miserable.

“What’s a gorgeous lady like yourself doing at this party alone?” a velvety voice interrupted your dark musing and you vainly tried to cover the shudder running down your spine, cursing at the heat curling in your stomach.

Was this how he was talking to all the women who were throwing themselves at him tonight? Probably.

Had you been through that before? Yes.

Had you expected it to happen tonight? Sadly, yeah.

Was it bothering you? Hell the fuck yeah, even if you knew it shouldn’t and that it didn’t mean anything but Steve doing his job right.

You cursed mentally at your weakness and sighed out loud, spinning around to face the man.

“Waiting for a bulky blond supersoldier to come save her, naturally,” you hissed back, hating yourself for letting your jealously get the better of you.

Steve had never ever made you as much as doubt that you were the one for him, but that green bitch of an emotion still intruded on you tonight. You blamed the upcoming visit from aunt flow and the rush of hormones arriving with it and the fact you were itching to leave and go home just for getting rid of those ridiculously high heels alone.

You usually enjoyed wearing high heels, they gave you confidence as gazes of many men and women followed you, but the stilettos you had got chosen tonight could be used as murder weapon.

Ha, maybe you could try and sell them here, you’d make a fortune!

A frown appeared on Steve’s face, one of curiosity, regret and surprise when he registered your irritated tone.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded quietly, whispering to your ear intimately, only making the situation worse.

“You shouldn’t be talking to me, Captain Rogers. You’ll blow it.”

His eyebrow jumped ridiculously high and you realized what you said; you groaned both at his cheekiness and your stupidity.

“Blow our cover. Get your mind out of the gutter…” you muttered, putting some distance between the two of you for the sake of the cover.

“Maybe I’m feeling a bit reckless tonight,” he hummed back, his large palm resting on your lower back and you had to take a moment to swallow the blissful groan at his gesture. You loved his hands and the heels were not only killing your feet, but also you back, and the warmth radiating from his skin felt like heaven. “But seriously, are you okay?”

“You could have asked through the comm.”

“I wanted to check up on you personally.  So?” he insisted and you couldn’t but sigh again, finishing your glass of champagne when you spotted Wagner, aka your target. You stepped away from Steve.

“Just tired. Want this to be over with. Go mingle, Steven.”

Pausing when you took a note of the harshness in your tone, you found his concerned gaze over your shoulder, whispering as softly as you could: “Thank you for your concern… Captain.”

You caught a glimpse of his discreet lopsided smile before turning away fully.

As you walked into the crowd, your long crimson dress curled around your feet with every step due to the provocative – read practical – slit ending mid-thigh. You hoped that the memory of watching you go would occupy his brain for some time while he talked to the flocks of both male and female admirers.

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Two hours. It took you another two hours to ensure you’d be safe sneaking into the Wagner’s office slash bedroom.

Of course his bureau would be his bedroom; men like him knew nothing about good old sleep hygiene, because the thought of their money distracted them from the evil they were doing to the world and had them sleeping like babies.

Using the key-card you had snatched about three minutes ago, you easily entered the over-decorated room.

Looks like someone’s compensating for something, you noted mentally, not losing any time and activating the no-prints mode on your gloves; one of the perks of working with Tony Stark. You were wearing the nanotech the whole evening and no one had a clue, because the particles were imitating your skin. You’d leave a print on the glass of champagne if you wanted; if you planned on rummaging someone else’s office, leaving a trace was a different case and you wouldn’t take any risks.

Systematically starting on the right from the door and working your way through everything that looked even remotely like a possible hideout, you didn’t forget to gingerly place your palm over the wall-length closet so Friday could run scans.

God, you loved that Tony Stark was on the side of the angels despite not quite being one himself; according to him at least.

“No signs of anything else than overpriced shirts, tuxedos and sets for dom-sub play,” the AI announced, barely audible, and you cringed. Not what you needed to know. “Cuffs are men’s size. Dominatrix set for a wom-“

“Enough, enough! Gee, Friday…” you muttered under your breath, not liking the visual of Wagner in the middle of enjoying-

Gross.

“No need for that much detail…”

Shaking your head, you moved onto the desk; an obvious, perhaps too obvious choice, which was why you wouldn’t place your bet on it. But hey, you could never be sure enough until you checked.

The sudden noise on your right had you drawing your gun at instant, your pulse skyrocketing.

The first thing you saw was a large frame of the newcomer and neatly combed blond hair. Your shoulders slumped.

Steve raised his hands as he moved from the doorway to stand inside, his face visibly relaxing at the sight of you searching another man’s desk.

The door clicked shut behind him and you forced yourself to breathe in, shoving your gun back to the holster placed on your covered thigh.

“Jesus, Steve!” you whisper-yelled exasperatedly and resumed your inspection, paying him no mind anymore. You had more important things to do at the moment; not that you wouldn’t do him; Steve in a tux was sight to behold, like hold onto THAT, literally get your hands on it, but you were here for a job.

“You weren’t responding!” Steve replied in the same manner, causing you to freeze.

He had been trying to contact you? And you couldn’t hear him? But-

“Oh,” you let out intelligently, doing the math easily. “He must have some sort of a jammer in here, makes sense.”

“Uh-huh.”

“But I’m fine,” you stated, shutting one drawer, opening another. “How did you even ge– never mind. You should go-“

“Don’t wanna cloooose my eyeees!”

The distant howl-like shout from the hall turned your blood into ice, your eyes widening.

You had studied Wagner the whole evening; you’d recognize his voice anywhere, even when he was singing ‘I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing’ out of tune.

“-before THAT happens! Shit!”

As you pulled out your phone, the live-feed from the camera in the hall offered you a marvellous view.

Two gorilla-men were dragging Wagner towards his room as his feet barely kept him standing. Gorilla number three was walking behind them just in case that their boss’ face decided to meet the floor despite the support offered to him.

Shit, shit, SHIT-

Closing the drawer you were currently scouring, lips pressed into a tight line, you eyed Steve; he was already bracing himself for the fight, caught in the middle of the process of discarding the jacket to have wider range of movements.

You whined internally – firstly, what a sight, it would always make you weak in knees no matter what. Secondly, if this was to end in a fight, the chances were that you’d make it out without the plans and you had spent the night in those killer heels for nothing.

Oh no, you don’t-

“Cause I’d miss ya’ BABY—I don’t wanna miss a THIIIIING!”

Scanning the room once more, your mind running hundred miles a minute, your gaze fell on the huge-ass closet of which contents you had learned more than you’d like to.

Your lips parted in surprise at the plan forming in your own head.

This is a terrible idea.

It’s yours!

Exactly.

Yeah, okay, fair enough-

NO TIME TO COME UP WITH A BETTER ONE-

Steve was kind enough to follow when you grabbed his arm and pulled him from his spot in the middle of the room, though he did shoot you an utterly confused look.

You met his eyes and gulped when the singing approached the room way too quickly to your liking.

“STILL MISS YA’ BABY–“

“I need you to trust me now,” you pleaded in hushed tone, seeing Steve’s pupils go wide, covering the somewhat always warm blue of his irises.

“With what?”

Well, he asked for it.

“Get in the closet, now!”

A second of shocked silence followed your request before his brain made the connection and a scowl twisted his handsome face.

“What? No! I’m not leaving you alone to face them!” he raised his voice minutely and you covered his mouth to remind him that there were ears present, inching closer with each second passing.

“DON’T WANNA FAAAAALL ASLEEEEEEP-!”

“That’s exactly what you’ll do! That’s easier to play off.”

Steve very much not agreed if his eyes flashing with anger were anything to go by. His hand pushed yours away as he towered over you.

“I’m not leaving-“

“Look at the gorillas, Steve!” you shoved the phone to his face, unlocking the closet and throwing its door open. “One word from them to the rest of security and we’re screwed. Get in!”  

Something between a whine, a groan and a growl – neither of those sounds sexy given the circumstances – escaped his lips and you assumed he had to admit to himself that you were right.

Taking a mental note of his resistance diminishing, you easily pushed him towards the limited dark space.

“CAUSE EEEEEVEN WHEN I DREAM OF YOOOOOOOU- THE SWEETEST DREAM WILL NEEEVER DOOOOOO-“

“We can still play it off toge-“ he tried to protest one more time but you pushed against his chest adamantly.

“And say what? This isn’t what it looks like? We just happened to choose your office to get freaky? I’ll handle it. Trust me.”

Steve gave you his unfairly disarming pleading look, his puppy eyesTM, but backed into the closet without another word, clutching his previously stripped jacket to his chest, because he did trust you.

Fingers on the handle, you hesitated when you realized what could ruin the charade you came up with and planned on pulling off.

Swallowing hard at the terrible idea, you gave Steve a tiny encouraging smile as you drew your gun and three knives from your leg holster/sheath and pressed it to his hands.

“Hold these for me.”

Swiftly closing the door, the last thing you saw was the horror on his face.

As the door swung open and you spun on your heels, he had no chance to react.

The loud song which had been reaching your ears for seemingly endless time died on Wagner’s lips and the third extra gorilla of a man behind him instantly pulled out his gun.

And aimed it right at your face. While you had nothing to defend yourself but your bare hands.

Yay.

“Who are you?!” he thundered and like a charm, Wagner stood straight so the other two guards could have you at gunpoint as well.

Yet, what sent an unpleasant shiver through you was Wagner’s sleazy eyes travelling from your killer heels to your ankles, up to your partly exposed thigh, your waist and finally settling on your cleavage, not bothering to make it higher to look into your eyes.

So. He’s a pig. Shocker.

For once, you were grateful. Not that he was supposed to know that.

A sweet innocent smile spread on your lips as you eyed the weapons with what seemed to be almost a satisfaction, you hoped.

“A government agent, of course,” you said, voice pitched just a bit higher than usual. You felt a bit sorry for Steve at the moment; you were well-aware of nearly giving him a heart attack by saying that. “I work with Captain America.” Scratch the ‘nearly’. Poor Steve’s heart. “I was given the task to scour this place… very… thoroughly.”

Your tone husky now, your teeth bit down on your lower lip, your eyes watching Wagner with faked interest. He hypnotized your red lips before shaking his head as if snapping from a haze.

“They told me you’ve been a bad, bad man. I kept my eye on you all evening,” you admitted, not even having to lie.

The following smile you sent his direction was perhaps too predatory, but that could work. For him anyway.

“Who do you work for?!”

The guards were not as easily fooled as their drunk boss apparently; then again, you hadn’t expected them to.  

“Oh. A.R.M.O.R. America-Related Manpower Operatives and Reinforcements.” God bless their hearts if they were going to buy that, seeing you were obviously trying to imitate the SHIEILD acronym. Very poorly. Playing it up, you let a giggle escape you before your expression turned serious, guilty even. “Oh. Probably shouldn’t have said that. It’s only my first time, you see. I finished my training few days ago.”

“Mm… look at ‘dat…” Wagner drawled and nope, it had nothing on the way Steve spoke when his accent peeked through while he was drunk on Asgardian liquor or lust alone.

Not relevant.

Wagner waved off his guard dogs, gesturing to one of them to approach you. “Why don’t we search you first?”

“Make it quick. I have…” you let your eyes trail over Wagner’s body, licking your lips when visibly lingering on his crotch, “more important tasks at hand. I came here for a mission. I’d like it to… finish.”

Two men instantly went to inspect you, patting you from the back, from the front, up and down, way longer and more thoroughly than necessary.

And they found what they were looking for.

One large palm harshly slipped between your thighs and you closed your eyes, willing yourself not to throw up at the pawing.

Gorilla One’s head snapping up to you, he pulled out the only weapon left on you, handing it to his boss and Gorilla Two grabbed your wrists and locked it behind your back, causing you to nearly hiss in pain.

“Oops,” you shrugged instead, burning gaze locked onto the man who was holding both your weapon and your life in his hands.

Your heart was beating frantically in anticipation, your confidence wavering as Wagner inspected the knife.

A slow smile spread on his face, his left eyebrow rising and then he finally, finally burst out laughing.

A confused ‘what’ sounded from behind you as the man’s utterly smashed boss howled in hysterical laughter.

“This—this is GOL-DEN!” he choked out, tossing the item to the very man who had handed it to him.

“It’s a stage-prop,” Gorilla One sighed.

And that it was. Thank you, Natasha Romanoff.

“Oh. So it’s fake.”

“Told you I have more important things at hand… so if—my hands could find some release please…” you asked sweetly over your shoulder. The very next second, you remembered just what was in the closet; and you weren’t thinking Steve. So you switched tactics. “That’s an order, actually. Let. Me. Go.”

“What the agent said, Greg,” Wagner beckoned, still chuckling, a new twinkle appearing in his eye, his face free of mistrust. Gorilla Two, Greg apparently, released your hands with reluctance. You didn’t bother thanking him. “And let her work. Off you go.”

When the gorillas wavered for few moments, you felt your impatience grow along with the pain shooting up your calves. Damn heels.

“Have you not heard your superior? Do I need to teach you some discipline?”

Wagner licked his lips, taking two wobbly steps towards you. It seemed to seal the deal for the guards, because they left the room.

“Someone went out of their way to get you… Must be my birthday then,” he grinned sleazily, his fingers twitching as if he craved to touch you, his hands stopping few inches from your hip. “I’m all  yours, agent. Why don’t you go on with the… thorough inspection?”

Straightening your posture, chin stuck up, you nodded curtly.

“Of course. Sir, I’ll have to ask you to raise your hands to your head. Don’t move otherwise. I’m gonna feel for weapons now.”

“Yes, madam,” he responded breathlessly, but the second you started the process, his hand landed on your hip.

You stopped in your search, locking serious gaze with him. His pupils were blown, eyes dark with lust. His fingers squeezed, his gaze flickering to your mouth as you stood nearly chest to chest.

“Sir, this is highly inappropriate. I’m gonna have to ask you-“

His palm slid to your bottom, fingers digging into the flesh.

You narrowed your eyes, not even having to pretend you didn’t like that. You slapped his hand away, earning a sly grin. He didn’t try again immediately, which you were endlessly grateful for. Instead, he obediently raised his arms so he looked ready to be either searched or crucified.

Oh, you’d gladly.

“Sorry, Agent, I couldn’t help myself. What is such… pretty face like yourself doing in business like this?” he questioned in a husky voice and at that moment, you knew that your time spent around Tony Stark had taken its toll on you, because you simply couldn’t resist that pass.

“Stealing intel from pricks like you,” you mumbled under your breath, giving him just enough time to realize something was wrong.

A fraction of second later, the edge of your hand hit his throat, bruising his larynx and causing him to release a shocked huff of air. Kicking his knee next, your elbow met his face. A choked groan escaped his lips and you prayed to god he didn’t truly find his voice to call the guards.

You elbowed him in his right temple for a good measure, incapacitating his other knee so he nearly sunk to the floor. You slipped around him in one swift movement; your arm sneaked around his throat and cut out his airways.

Too stunned, he barely fought you and you felt all tension leave his muscles in no time.

Wagner’s body hit the ground as he slipped through your hands despite your best efforts. You winced at the thud shaking the floor; you quickly giggled loudly, playing it off as a drunken fun-time shenanigans. Just in case the guards were still at the door.

Satisfied and relieved when no one burst in with guns blazing, you walked to the closet, losing those damned stilettos on the way.

As soon as you unlocked the closet, Steve nearly hit you with the door when abruptly leaving the limited space. His eyes scanned you head to toe to find any sign of an injury, the flames in his glare fading only a bit when he found none.

“You almost gave me a heart attack!” he whisper-yelled and despite the circumstances, you couldn’t but giggle, this time from honest amusement as he proved your earlier thoughts right.

There we go…

“Worked, didn’t it? Now help me since you’re here, he’s fucking heavy…”

Steve gave you an incredulous look, one promising a storm coming once you had the time for it, but he went to pick Wagner’s body up without protest.

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Steve was kind enough to have you use the bathroom first, so by the time he emerged – around half past three a.m. – you were already tucked in bed, waiting for him. His feet shuffled against the floor and he seemed utterly spent, as if he had been fighting an army from space.

You had both left the party unharmed; then again, you could imagine that socializing the way he had had to could be as tiring as an alien invasion itself. Also, he had been the one leave Wagner office-bedroom through the window, while you simply walked out of the room, winking at the guards who had indeed stayed by the door.

Steve slipped under the covers and turned off the bedside lamp, the warm light replaced by inviting darkness. Your eyelids felt heavy after the long night and you couldn’t wait to enter the blissful land of sleep.

Having Steve’s arms around you, a pleasant habit of his, you knew you’d be out in no time, but you made the effort to shift further into his embrace, sighing in content and murmuring ‘goodnight’.  

Already halfway out as soon as you closed your eyes, you still registered his arm winding tighter around your waist, his nose pressed to your nape. A deep inhale, then another, warm breath and his lips inching closer with each second.

Pulled out of your slumber, limbs already heavy and yet floaty, half-hearted question left your lips.

“You ‘kay?”

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, his foot wedging between yours to pull you impossibly closer, his exhale long and wavering.

The tremble in it alarmed you, urging you to check up on his expression, on him. Willing your body to move, your heart skipped a startled beat when he wouldn’t let you turn around.

“That didn’t sound-“

His fingers wormed its way under your side laid on the mattress, flexing on the flesh of your waist.

“I’m fine….” Bullshit. “It’s just… you have no idea how hard it was to stay put while listening to all that, do you?”

Eyelashes fluttering in surprise, you took in his words, the subtle taste of fear in them, concern for how your abrupt plan could have easily go awry.

You allowed yourself a few moments before responding, forcing your memories, the images of you helplessly lying pinned to the ground after you saw a building explode – a building with Steve still in it – out of your mind.

“I… I think I can imagine. I’m sorry. I came up with an idea and thought it was for the best,” you whispered.

Honestly, you were still convinced that it had been the best thing to do given the circumstances, but that was momentarily beside the point.

“You literally told him you worked with me. I swear to God- I–“

Hearing the shift in his voice, a different emotion interfering – the pure horror, laced with exasperation – you softened your next words even further, running your fingertips over the back of his hand coaxingly.

Without any real hope, you attempted to turn in his firm embrace; this time, he reluctantly let you, your palms instantly trapping his miserable face.

“Hey. Hey, Steve, it’s fine. We handled it. We’re good. I just remembered Friday told me that he was a kinky bastard-“ Steve nudged you at the word and you fought hard the eye-roll he had coming at that “-and decided to use it.”

“You gave me your weapons and went against him empty-handed– never ever do that again,” he demanded, voice equally pleading and firm. You couldn’t help but nudge him back, because in your line of work, promising that technically equalled lying. “If there is any other option.”

You sighed, understanding all too well how he was feeling, willing to promise the latter to ease his mind. And to erase the worried wrinkles on his forehead. You kissed him there, the tension resolving under your loving gesture.

“Noted. I didn’t do that to get off, to have a high.“ Unlike some people, who seemed to do that sometimes. "I promise.”

“I know you didn’t,” Steve said, having the decency to add an edge of guilt to his voice, your verbal call for hypocrisy not going unnoticed. He kissed your left collarbone, tender and greedy, his lips sliding an inch lower to faintly feel your heartbeat and lingering.

“You know me well,“ you stated, running your fingers through his still damp locks, musing. "It’s… nice. Not as scary as I expected once.”

“Thanks…?” he murmured against your skin unsurely and you chuckled, a tired but oh so content sound.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered, heavy-lidded eyes boring into yours, finding your lips with his to deliver a lazy but heartfelt kiss, one you felt reaching your very soul.

Shifting so your head was tucked under his chin, you nestled into the most comfortable position possible and Steve hummed into your hair, once more pulling your body against his, not an inch of space left between you. You melted into his warmth and finally, you felt his muscles fully relax as well.

As you once more walked the fine line of dozing off, a sudden thought caused you to snap your eyes open, your heart skipping a curious beat.

“Steve?” An absent hum was his only response, but encouraged by any reaction at all, you continued, knowing that you wouldn’t fall asleep without having the answer. “When you said it was hard… you weren’t referring to a… certain situation of yours, right? … or were you?”

Even with his body turning rigid, a rock-solid prove he was fully awake, he put effort into sounding sleepy.

“Just go to sleep, woman.”

“…were you?! Do you want me to… do some thorough inspection of y-“ you teased, fascinated, never finishing your thought as Steve’s large palm covered your mouth.

You resisted the urge to release the surprised laugh bubbling in your chest. It wasn’t that you thought Steve’s desire was ridiculous; you were just that amazed that it never came up; a true wonder given your line of work.

Momentarily incapacitated, you didn’t speak, but grazed your teeth over his palm so he would release you.

“Hush!”

“ ’khay-“ You muttered and he removed his palm, sleepy blue watching you in warning. You strained your neck to kiss the previously teased skin of his hand. “We’ll explore that another time. I’m beat. Still love you. Goodnight.”

With that, you curled back into his body, feeling the wide expand of his chest followed by an exasperated puff.

“Goodnight, you maniac. I love you too.”

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━ 

Pins and needles in your toes ripped you harshly from the dreamland and you groaned quietly, rescuing your foot from the vice created by Steve’s own.

Shared sleep was blissful, releasing endorphins, the feelings of comfort and safety it provided irreplaceable and all that, but having your limb pinned to the mattress by a supersoldier was no joke.

You checked the clock on the nightstand; 8:27 AM. Sparing a glance at the man sleeping beside you, his arm wrapped around your waist, palm sprawled over our abdomen, you smiled despite the early hour.

Any other morning, you would have shaken off the cramp and scooted over to get even closer to Steve; however, determined to do something nice for him and make sure he was alright with what he had clearly considered an irresponsible stunt of yours yesterday, you thanked heavens for the unexpected get-up call and planned on wiggling out of Steve’s grasp.

“Where ya’ goin’?” he mumbled sleepily, the inches you had managed to put between your bodies erased as his arm pulled you back, his nose nuzzling your hair with a sigh.

“Bathroom,” you lied easily, lightly patting his forearm. “We’ve barely slept for five hours. You still have thirty minutes till your usual start of the post-mission day, you crazy-ass lark. I’ll be right back.”

“Mm-hmm… I’ll be waitin’.”

Chuckling silently, you freed yourself fully, this time without his protests.

“I’m sure you will, Steve,” you whispered, your smile widening when only ten seconds later, your words were followed by his quiet snort.

Grabbing one of Steve’s hoodies thrown over the backrest of a chair and sliding into it, you made your way to the communal kitchen instead. Your mission was to make Steve breakfast, secretly hoping you could talk him into skipping the usual run today and actually spending a day in bed. You thwarted big bad’s plans yesterday, for god’s sake, you both deserved a break…

As a reminder of the past events, a bruise the size of a boot on your thigh – which you didn’t remember getting – stared accusingly at you when you passed a mirror. You inconspicuously pulled the hem of Steve’s hoodie an inch lower in attempt to cover it. Vainly.

Rolling your eyes, you wondered just how nice you needed to be today; Steve had seemed more freaked out than anything else; nevertheless, the anger could come today and you rather if it didn’t.

Deciding pancakes, eggs and bacon were a safe bet, you hummed and opened the fridge.

It was the exact moment something caught you eye, a change in decorum; right above your head on the top of the fridge.

A big fat zero stared at you from the sign you had got Steve a while ago, a memorandum of your first first-hand experience of his utter recklessness on missions. Ever since then, you and the rest of the team made sure to have the board up-to-date, sometimes proudly and sometimes regretfully rewriting the number of ‘days without Steve doing stupid life-threatening shit’.

Now there was a zero. Your jaw went slack, your heartbeat skyrocketing.

It was not the only change on the sign.

Someone, and you had a very good idea who that might be (hint: he was sleeping in your bed), plastered your name over Steve’s.

Your smile froze on your lips and at that moment, you could have been knocked out with a feather.

Unbelievable.

Un-fucking-believable.

Shutting the fridge with a loud thud, bottles in its door clinking, you strode back to your shared room, sputtering curses.

The audacity of him!

When had he even- how had he done– all night— you had woken up before him-!

Forget pancakes, eggs and bacon; snark was on the menu today.

“STEVEEEEEN!”

You heard his laughter before you even reached the bedroom.

Looking at the bright sight of things, Steve being a little shit was a positive shift from his late-night anxiety. A brief smile crossed over your face before you stormed into the room, finding the blond culprit muffling his chuckles in a pillow.

Your pillow.

Jumping to the bed, you grabbed his own and opted to show him just how stupid you could get.

Because trying to take down a supersoldier in a pillow fight? The zero might have to stay on the board for one extra day.

As Steve’s carefree laughter echoed within the walls of your bedroom, filling you with pure joy, you decided you could live with that.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━  ━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

If you’d like to know the origin of the board, I kindly point you towards my S.R. masterlist, specifically to Challenge Accepted…? Fair warning: it has more drama than this one.

Thank you for reading! ❤️

[cup1d-ends-here]

Amon/Noatak x Reader | Fear (Pt.1)🌧

Prompt: You’re a Waterbender from the South Pole and ever since Amon first made an appearance, you’ve been terrified. One night when you’re leaving from the Air Temple, you’re attacked by chi blockers and forced to face your worst nightmare.

Genre: Angst

Warnings: None

“Dinner was amazing! Thank you, Pema!” You smiled and the pregnant woman smiled warmly.

“It’s no problem, (Y/N). It’s always pleasant to have you around.” You stood up from your seated position and waved goodbye to everyone.

“Awe, do you have to leave, (N/N)?” Ikki whined and flew onto your shoulders. You chuckled and squatted down, putting her onto the ground.

“I wish I could stay but you’ll see me tomorrow!” You grinned and she looked up at you with puppy-dog eyes and a pout. You sighed and looked at Korra who was smirking at you, her head leaning on her knuckle. You gave her a blank look and put up your middle finger. Tenzin’s mouth dropped and he ‘fainted’, whereas Korra burst into laughter, falling back onto the ground. Pema rolled her eyes with a smile and started to clean up the plates. “I really do have to go now, take care, everyone.” They replied with a goodbye and Tenzin muttered his, his arms crossed tightly. You chuckled and walked out of the Temple.

The sky was beautiful. It was a cloudless night, but it was chilly. You brought your arms close to your body and shivered. You walked to where the sky bison were kept and found your polar leopard caribou, Aiya, snoring. You giggled and gave her stomach a big scratch. “C’mon, Ai. Time to go,” You said and she yawned and stood up. You mounted her and carefully exited the area without waking any of the bison.

                                         ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You finally made it across the lake to Republic City. Aiya walked slowly with her head low and her body tired. You stroked her shoulder and leaned forward, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“I know how much swimming takes out of you, Ai, sorry.” She let out a small pant. Her hooves were heavy on the concrete of the deserted street, illuminated by the street lights and the crescent moon. The sound echoed, adding a lonely but eerie sense. You weren’t far from your house. You unwrapped your arms from Aiya’s neck and sat up. You looked around, feeling paranoid. Ever since Amon and his chi blocking assholes appeared in the city, you’ve grown tense and paranoid, especially at night. Even though your bending is stronger, that didn’t mean you could take on the chi blockers or even Amon himself. You heard a faint pad of footsteps and Aiya perked up her head, ears twitching in all directions. You gulped and scratched her shoulder to try and calm her and yourself.

“I’m- I’m sure it’s nothing.” You tried to convince yourself. You heard the noise again and Aiya stopped walking. She took a defensive stance and started growling. You gripped her harness tightly, palms sweating. You gripped your water-filled pouch that resided on your waist. Suddenly, you heard the sound of electricity buzzing and your heart dropped. Aiya roared when two chi blockers jumped from the rooftops of houses. One of them landed on Aiya’s back and you kicked them off. She roared again and started to sprint. Another blocker stood in her path and lunged at her, electrocuting her. She cried in pain and she went limp. Tears brimmed in your eyes and fury surged through your body. You pulled out some water from your pouch and fired sharp ice at the blocker that knocked her out.

“Barstad!” You screamed and melted the ice and shot a torrent of water in their face. They fell back and you leapt and straddled their waist. You gave them a sharp uppercut and you were about to land another blow when one of the others attacked you, blocking your chi. You cried out in pain and fell limp. The blocker that was previously grounded you gave you a kick to the face. You growled and tried to fight back to no avail. You heard Aiya let out a strained growled and you whipped your head around painfully to see the other blocker fire the spinning ropes at Aiya. “NO! LEAVE HER ALONE!” You screamed. You heard electricity buzzing behind you and quickly felt the pain of it. Your vision started to blur and you saw a truck skid to where Aiya was and five other chi blockers came out, firing more ropes at Aiya. She failed to fight back. One of the new blockers fired a rope and her muzzle, stopping her from roaring and biting. They electrocute her again and started to heave her onto the truck. The blocker electrocuted you again and you groaned with your teeth clenched.

“Aiya. No,” You whispered and then everything went black.

                                        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your eyes slid open slightly, everything becoming a blur. You kept blinking harshly and your other senses started to come back. Fear washed over you. You had no idea where you were, where Aiya was and if she was ok. It didn’t help that your wrists were tied tightly above your head. Your feet were tied too. You felt sick and scared. You looked around and took in your surroundings. The floor, walls and ceiling was made of splinting and creaky wooden planks. In the corner was a candle on a steel stool, the only source of light. The room extended into darkness. You heard voices approaching. Your head snapped straight and adrenaline filled you. Then, a familiar face came into the candlelight. A face you had seen in your nightmares. Amon. You felt every small bit of hope and happiness extinguish, in the room and inside of you. Six chi blockers stood behind him in an arrow formation. Inevitable tears began to well up in your eyes at the very presence of him.

“Cut the ropes,” His deep voice commanded and two chi blockers sliced through your bondages. You fell to the ground and backed to the wall. The blocker walked back into formation. He began walking forward. His chi blockers followed but he held up a hand and they backed away. You gipped your water pouch and he smirked. “You see, this is what's wrong with benders.” He crouched down and grabbed your wrist tightly. “Their first instinct is always to attack.” You cried in pain when his grip tightened. He threw your wrist out of his grip harshly and stood up. You tried to do the same but your muscles just shook. You groaned in pain and he gave a smug smile under his mask. He turned his head to his followers. “Leave.” They nodded and vanished into the darkness.

You looked away from him for a few moments. Then, you attempted to lunge at him and punch him but your muscles locked painfully. You lost control of your own limbs. Your eyes widen in fear and confusion. You were forced to sit on your knees. The feeling drained away as quickly as it started and you looked to the ground. The tears in your eyes pooled more, threatening to fall.

“Where is Aiya?” You said in a stern and low voice. He chuckled. But said nothing. “WHERE IS SHE?!” You yelled, the tears falling down in fear.

“Tut tut tut. So aggressive,” He scolded and you growled. He leaned down and gripped your chin tightly, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Don’t worry. That won’t be a problem once I purify you.” His hand reached for you and you screamed.

“NO!” Fear took over. “Please don’t,” You cried. He stood up straight, retracting his hand. You moved your arm that was covering your face and you stood up finally. He ran toward you and pinned your wrists above your head. His face was dangerously close to yours. You could feel his breath.

“Why should I make an exception for a pathetic waterbender like yourself?” He queried.

“I- I don’t know,” You muttered, your gaze dropping in helplessness.

“Hmph.” He pulled back and slowly took off his hood. He started to untie his mask. It fell off his face and you gasped slightly. He was handsome. You closed your mouth quickly and he smirked. He leaned in again, extremely close to your ear.

“I’ll spare you. It would indeed be a shame to see a pretty face like yours be just plain pathetic and not special. But heed my words, if you tell anyone about our little meeting, it won’t just be your bending that’s gone.” His deep, husky voice rumbled in your ear. You panicked at the threat. “Am I clear?” You nodded. He dragged his lips across your cheek and gently brushed over your lips. Your face heated up. He pressed his body onto yours and you gripped his torso.

“Your leopard is outside. Leave and never let me see your face again,” He said against your lips before pulling back. You sprinted out of the room, into the darkness. You looked back and Amon had put his mask and hood back on. He started running at you and you continued running. The chi blockers had gotten rid of your bending water and you cursed. You made it out of the abandoned warehouse and you saw Aiya laying down on the ground.

“AIYA!” You called happily and she immediately stood up and roared, leaping toward you. She pinned you down and purred, licking your face like a dog. You giggled, forgetting about the situation you were in for a brief moment.

“C’mon. Let’s get outta here.” You mounted her and she sped off. You glanced over your shoulder and saw Amon, standing at the entrance of the warehouse. You made eye contact for a moment before you turned your gaze away. You bought a hand to your lips where Amon’s had just been.

                                        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

You finally arrived home and you quickly unlocked the double door, allowing Aiya to walk in. She flopped onto the ground and you sighed, taking off her harness with a bit of a struggle. You trudged to your bed and laid down, the previous events of tonight replaying in your mind.

                                        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A figure was perched on the rooftop of a house, gazing at another. Yours.

[protozoan-pen-and-pigment]

Whilst I've written a few stories in my time (none saw publication), there have been a few that I started, but then just. . . abandoned. So here I present what might possibly be the first in a series:-

Stories That Never Went Anywhere: 'Alter-Earth Chronicles.'

Chapter the First; 'The First Sighting of the Sun'.

“You were informed about the need to replace that servo some months ago, sir.” snorted the 'ST33-D' to his master, knelt beside his right foreleg, scratching his head – partly in puzzlement, partly in an attempt to rid himself of the gnats that had buzzed through his hair during their trek through the swamps of Rhyzling, some three hours previous. Not to mention an attempt to alleviate the itching that the bites from those infuriating creatures since caused.

“I know Steed, I know. . . “ replied the Horseman huffily, glancing slightly in the direction of his mechanical equine companion. “. . . and I had said I was intending to get it replaced once we got to the next town and handed in my bounty-completion data; you could get your foreleg slave servo replaced. . . and I could get these. . .” he scratches at his scalp once again, becoming incensed, “. . DAMN BUGS OUT OF MY HAIR!!

The ST33-D, whom the Horseman simply regarded as 'Steed', snorted what could only be described as a whinnying chortle, “We all have our own crosses to bear, sir!” he intoned smoothly, as if merely thinking out aloud, rather than addressing his master. The Horseman caught his sarcastic tone and as he stood, eyed him grimly, his azure eye boring into Steed's black pits. Catching the slightly awkward silence, Horseman softened his expression.

“I suppose I had that coming, considering my negligence of your maintenance.” he sighed. “I promise, you'll receive a full service once we hit the next town. Which is how far, now?” Steed raised his head slightly, his deep, black eyes taking on a slightly greenish hue.

“At our revised rate of travel and the nature of the terrain; one day, seventeen hours and twenty-six minutes.”

The Horseman's shoulders sank. “There's no need to be as accurate as that, Steed.” he sighed, somewhat dejected. His companion turned to him, his metallic equine body – or at least, that which was exposed from under the leather riding gear, harnesses and travel bags, denoting as it does, the pair's nomadic nature – glistened in the waning sun.

“Apologies sir. I gave consideration to offering you a more concise estimate, but concluded that such accuracy was unnecessary, given the circumstances.”

The Horseman pressed the tips of the fingers of his left hand to his forehead and shook his head in defeat. Although Steed had been his travelling companion and ad-hoc associate for many years now, he sometimes struggled to deal with certain mannerisms of his and, it must be said, vice versa. Steed wasn't new when he took delivery of him – the whole ST33-series being long out of production and succeeded by elctramaglev vehicles of all kinds, from small personal conveyances to massive transcontinental vessels, of varying applications – but Horseman took a shine to him – no pun intended – as it reminded him of the mammalian creatures he was told and read of, from the old colony days. The resemblance to these old creatures that was given to the ST33-series was not coincidental, as they were intended to give the direct descendants of the early colonists a better understanding of their purpose. The 'D' variant was given a superior AI, as well as ground-mapping and GPS, answering the demands of those in the higher caste for recreational models. But they soon fell out of favour, as alternative technologies such as Maglev came into being and that some didn't particularly value the foibles of the model's AI, so many were consigned to the scrapheaps of the 'Lost Lands', or simply abandoned until they ceased mechanical function, or their microreactors finally gave out. The Horseman, as he had become known, sometimes was given to wondering if he took ownership of him simply because he felt sorry for him. With this thought, he turned to his companion, cradling his metallic muzzle above and below in his hands, which didn't go either unnoticed or unappreciated. “No apologies necessary, Steed. I should take better care of you. You're practically an antique now, y'know?”

Steed rocked his head gently from side to side, a snort of warm air ejecting from the cooling vents in his head – the 'nostrils' of the horse. “Nonsense sir. Given the number of my series total less than ten globally, I would consider myself nothing less than a rare museum piece!” Horseman chuckled warmly as he wrapped his arms affectionately round the neck of his companion, the metallic beast's head resting on his friend's shoulder.

“Where would I be without you, my friend?”

"Some fourteen-thousand, three-hundred and four kilometres from here, with very sore feet, slowly going insane from starvation would be my guess, sir!” replied Steed, with not a hint of irony.

Twilight was approaching and the terminator between reassuring daylight and wondrous night was creeping its way across the sky, planets too vague and dim for their reflected light to penetrate the atmosphere by day, now hinting at their majesty, as the orange and reds of sunset gave way to purple and deepening blue, the hazy gossamer wave of the galaxy beyond also fading into view, unwilling for her planetary offspring to monopolise the attention of whomever may gaze upon the heavens.

Below this celestial vie for daddy's attention, the Horseman and Steed trudged along, in some state of dejection, the cybernetic equine now feeling the labour of its steps. The whine and groan of stressed servos being too much for its now weary master, who slows his walk to a stop, breathing a heavy sigh.

“I think this is where we make camp for tonight, old friend.” he turned to his metallic companion, now hanging its head in some state of relief.

“I know I don't feel pain,” it began, in a tone it could best synthesise as one of strained relief, “but it couldn't come at a better time. My secondary coolant circulator was beginning to feel the strain.” His human companion nodded, only vaguely understanding what the secondary coolant circulator actually does. But if it were causing his friend difficulty, he considered, then it would be churlish to say the least for him to expect it to continue. He aided Steed down to the ground, where it laid on its belly, all but it's lame leg tucked underneath, the malfunctioning appendage letting off gentle wisps of blue-grey smoke, as it begins to cool.

The human looked about him, studying his surroundings – although to say 'studying' would be something of an exaggeration, a look of questioning irritation creasing his features.

* * * * * *

[themockingcrows]

Companionship Through Circuitry Ch. 2: Radiation Blues

Bro/Hal This chapter can be found on my AO3! This chapter is SFW cw: vomit

Not everywhere is safe to sleep, and warnings shouldn't be ignored. Even if they come from pretentious sounding AI.

    What are you doing.

    "I'm writin' to my kid, mind your own business."

    My God in Heaven save us all, you've procreated.

    "Yeah, and my spawn's the raddest thing in the world, what about it. Mind your own business, I'm already smudgin' the shit out of this," Bro muttered, writing against his thigh on layered paper carefully as he could. Being a lefty was suffering sometimes, even if he tried his damndest to write neatly.

    There were probably better ways to go about doing this, better times or places, but something about camp that night felt safe and secure, and it was about time for another letter to get written and sent out to check in and let him know what was up. So there he sat by his fire curled up with the paper on his thigh, detailing to Dave what he’d been up to and the newfound.. Friend? Follower? Companion?

    The new sunglasses he got that happened to be sarcastic as shit.

    If you don't want me to be observing, you should do something sensible. Like take me off your fucking face.

    "That'd be too easy. Be a good little bot and hush now."

    I am an AI, not a 'good little bot'. Don't be condescending to me.

    "I'm sorry I hurt all two of your pre-programmed feelings but seriously, shut your trap for a second and let me write or I'll forget some shit," Bro complained, "I'm leavin' you on because I don't wanna wind up entirely blind to the dark outside the lit up area."

    Sleeping would be good tonight. Not only was it safe enough for a little bit of fire by his judgement and with plenty of air to avoid problems from smoke, but there was more than enough room to stretch out and relax. He wouldn't be crammed into a corner or sleeping sitting up tonight, oh no. He'd be fully fed, warm, comfortably dry and sprawled out on a bedroll like he owned the damn place. Buildings without roofs were pretty rad sometimes, bless concrete and brick, bless the steel beams that supported the tall bitches, they made his heart beat.

    I should probably warn you since you’re insisting on staying: you are exposed here.

    "You said that earlier and I’m tellin’ you: I'm not that exposed. You've been out here what, a day? And tested pre-war. I've been out here forty odd years, let the master take a load off. I'll sleep well tonight'n clear out by dawn. The stairs are shitty and I took my board with me. There's fire between the stairs'n me, I can tuck duck'n roll if I gotta beat feet out the window to the dumpster.. Shit's fine."

    That is not what I meant. I'm saying you're exposed to a lot of things here.

    "Yeah, we've established that you're wron- ah motherfuck look what you made me do," he sighed, pen leaving a blob of ink in the center of a word he’d paused too long on. Shoddily made hunk of junk. Modern pens could never hold a candle to the sturdy as hell pre-war ones with their pressurized, ever ready gel ink.

    Your health is at risk.

    Bro let out a steady breath from his nose in irritation, finished writing his sentence by crooking his hand in an awkward claw to avoid the wet spot, and then fanned the paper in the air to dry the ink splotch faster so it wouldn't transfer between pages and locations when he folded it for sending later. Or adding on to, if anything interesting happened between now and the next time he saw someone willing to courier or pass along to a courier for him and a normal delivery fee.

    "My health is absolutely fine. I get you’re pre-war and used to the regulations’n shit they required but this is different. ..Look, if you're that concerned just wake me up before bad shit happens to me. You don't need sleep, do you? Just a charge when your inner batteries get low or the onboard rechargin' system gets borked, the rest of the time you're doin' your own thing," Bro guessed. "Just siren me awake before I get nibbled on if you're so concerned about my bein' asleep up here. I'm a light sleeper."

    The target t's in front of his eyes turned in a slow loading circle several times before he heard the confirmation chime once again near his ear.

    Duly noted. Enjoy writing to your spawn, Bro.

    "Was that so hard?" he asked, blowing on the ink for another moment before touching the splotch with a fingertip and finding it dry. Carefully he folded the letter up and tucked it into his bag with the traitor pen in its security cap beside it, then settled down on his sleeping roll with a heady sigh. Finally: off his feet, fully stretched out.. It'd be better to be on a mattress, he'd taken that for granted over the years, but hey this was still pretty sweet. Soft enough to relax on.. soft enough to sleep on..

    His eyes grew heavy as he watched the fire crackle and pop now and then, hands folded over his pleasantly full stomach. Within minutes he was out cold, softly snoring with the glasses perched on his face and AR finally quiet. The unnaturally clear sky stretched out overhead and the ever moving wasteland felt like it stood still peacefully for once, just for a little while.

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

    Ambrose could hear a sharp, electronic whine as if it were coming from under water. No matter how far or how close he got to it the whine stayed the same pitch, annoying and gnat like. There didn’t seem to be any escape, no way to silence it, not even any way to interact with it since he couldn’t lay eyes on it. Whatever it was pulsed a few times before going louder, making his ears ache and his head feel like it wanted to split. He was sure of one thing: once he got his hands on whatever was making that god awful sound, he was going to put his sword through it and beat it into the dirt till it rested in a million tiny pieces.

    He grimaced and finally opened his eyes, staring up at the dark sky of pre-dawn, flickers of unchanging stars and the distant glimmer of what was probably either space junk giving up the ghost and crashing somewhere into the atmosphere or a run of the mill shooting star. This was a beautiful way to wake up aside from the sound pulsing in front of his ears from AR who promptly shut it off as soon as he was conscious, giving him a moment of head pounding reprieve to be more conscious. It was earlier than he wanted to be awake. Ambrose could feel his joints protesting movement and his skin.. itching. Wincing, Bro sat slowly upright and felt his world swimming around him sickeningly, face flushed and frigid at the same time. Everything had a fisheye lens quality to it that he wasn't enjoying in the slightest, and with a failed attempt at standing landing him on his knees again he crawled hurriedly to a corner far from his bedding to empty his stomach out onto the concrete.

    Farewell fine dinner, you will be missed. At least it'd been there a few hours, so it wasn't a total waste of calories.

    Ah, you're finally up.

    "The fuck is hap- hrrk," he got out before another heave took him over, leaving his shoulders around his ears and cold sweat racing down his clammy spine.

    I told you: you're exposed here and your health is at risk, AR repeated as if speaking to a particularly slow child.

    Groaning, Bro rubbed at his mouth with the back of his forearm  and slowly crawled back to his bedding and backpack to try making himself pack. The area was bad, he had to leave no matter how shitty he felt.  "Yeah, mind clarifying why I feel like dogshit all at once?"

    Radiation sickness is, as they say, a bitch like that. I'd recommend leaving the area promptly as you can to reduce increasing symptoms, and to obtain treatment at the nearest facility you can reach.

    The nearest facility, he says. The nearest facility.

    "What part of THE FUCKING BOMBS FELL LIKE TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO don't you understand?" Bro complained, gritting his teeth and hurriedly packing. This was going to be a bitch to walk through later, he could already feel it. "I've got some meds but they're not instant.. ugh, don't you think you could've clarified that I was nappin' in a contaminated spot?"

    If you'll recall I did. Repeatedly.

    "Sayin' my health's at risk and that I'm exposed are two different fuckin' things, and nowhere did you say radiation," growled Ambrose as he shouldered his bag and grabbed his board, heading for the stairs. Away from the light he prepared to lift the shades to his forehead, only to realize the view had changed to something akin to night vision. It wasn't crisp as a cat, but it sure as fuck was an improvement on normal vision, and twice as much on sick vision.

    ..Okay, so maybe he wouldn't chuck this bitch into the trash after all.

    Typically humans take warnings about their health and safety more seriously than 'Yeah, hold my beer'.

    "Let's clarify then: if I'm about to get shanked, shot, eaten, beaten, fricasseed or FUCKING IRRADIATED to a level that’d make me sick... you tell me which it is and I'll act accordingly," Ambrose reasoned. "Also, shit, thanks for changin' the vision over. Why didn't you say you could do this earlier?"

    You never asked, nor do I assume you read my user manual, as last I was aware there was not one in production.

    Ambrose made it downstairs and outside before he dry heaved once again into the dirt. He took a moment afterwards to clear his sinuses, hock and spit for distance to get rid of the scent of vomit from his nose. It was an improvement to be able to breathe again, but he couldn’t pause to rinse his mouth just yet. Fuck he’d kill for some mouthrinse, or some alcohol to wash the taste out of his mouth..

    No time to lament, it was time to focus and get moving again. Right. North. He was going North. Which way was North.. Ambrose craned his head back to watch the sky before looking towards the hints of dawn in the distance and adjusting his pathing accordingly.

    "Y'know, I bet you've prolly got all kinds of maps and shit available to you," he said, "but I wish you had current maps. A lot of places just straight up don't exist or matter anymore compared to what mattered pre-war. ...And also, let me know when we're free of the contamination zone."

    I am capable of adjusting my saved maps if required. Simply show me an adjusted one and I can save the data, or I can alter an existing copy. Also, you're lucky you look like Dirk. I don't believe I'd be willing to help anyone else who spoke to me half as carelessly and crudely as you do.

    "Unless I had cheat codes I bet. What, havin' wet robo dreams about your creator or somethin'?"

    It's not like that in the slightest, AR insisted in the same stoic monotone as usual, though somewhere in there Ambrose swore up and down he could detect a trace of something more.

    "If I wake up with condensation all over you at some point I'm gonna just assume you were focusing too hard on this Dirk guy whose eyes I've got," Ambrose said. "What's robo jizz when you're an AI. Solder? Joint grease? Lubricant of some kind?"

    I take back my previous warnings. The area we have left is perfectly clear of radiation. A good long nap is in order in the very clear safe area you were last camping in.

    Bro smirked in amusement at the fact he was able to get beneath the skin of something that didn't even have skin to begin with. There was no reason to hold back on this thing. Yes there were feelings, but it wasn't quite the same as heckling Dave. Not the same at all.

    This thing gave as good as it got and held no punches, not even when his life had been on the line. Something that could talk shit when he was at risk of dying while also helping him was kind of refreshing.

    He kept walking till AR gave the all clear, then slowly took his bag off and sank down to sit in a clear area near some rocks, back against the unyielding surface to keep propped up as he rummaged out a container of pills and a container of water. Unable to really trust the water much anymore after the time it had spent in the contamination zone with him, but having no other options currently, Ambrose took a dose of medication with a few swigs.. before shrugging and draining the rest of the container. Being dehydrated was just as dangerous as what he was trying to cure and would kill him even faster to boot. Low grade radiation was no laughing matter, but damage and weakness from dehydration would just make death inevitable. Putting the pills and the empty container back into his bag, Ambrose sighed and closed his eyes for a few minutes, wanting it all to hit his stomach and settle instead of just coming back up immediately in a waste. AR had his back, and every time he opened his eyes he could see sharp outlines in the green wash of night vision. He did not envy future him in the slightest.. and made a mental note to scavenge bathrooms at the nearest opportunity to re-stock on toilet paper before it became a hot commodity.

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

    By the afternoon, Ambrose was still sick but far more mobile. Not in top fighting condition, but mobile. AR had, on his own volition, taken the request from earlier to heart and was keeping an eye out on the surroundings even in directions Ambrose wasn't currently focusing on. His peripheral vision had never been sharper than when a soft, steady voice alerted him to movement from one direction or another to avoid run ins with unwanted animals or people who held no good intentions for him. He kept his grip tight on his sword and used it when absolutely necessary, such as when a hungry wild dog caught scent of him and came in for the kill, but otherwise skirted around even the odd herd animal in case it turned violent. There just wasn’t energy to spare when every step felt like he was running in place.

    It was a strange symbiotic relationship, but Bro was content with it for now. The best part of this was that voice didn't sound worried. It was comforting to not have emotion tied into it, letting him pick and choose his reactions at a better pace than feeding into potentially misplaced concerns. No frantic cries or stress, no aggression, not even suggestion in the tone. Just flat, simple alerts telling him which way to turn his head to make his own choices.

    The sight of more and more people all filtering the same direction off in the horizon gave Bro a strong sense of relief as night came on. There was a glow in the distance as well, lights and flickery power and people and opportunities to rest and trade safely. Well. Safely as it could get out here anyway. From the shake in his legs and the nausea he was still feeling, the fever, this was a bit of a miracle in itself that he’d stumbled upon a populated trade area. Surely there was a doctor tucked away in there making a killing worth of profit from the locals and the unwary like himself that drifted in.

    What had once been a strip mall complex had been reborn as a shopping center for everything from weaponry to clothing to farming supplies, and a nearby apartment block was divvied up to serve as a hotel. The cheapest rooms were the ones shared with multiple people and the cots all in one cramped space, while the more expensive guaranteed privacy of all facilities. Cheap but not that cheap, Bro opted for a room that could be split with another two people instead of several, and lucked out that at the time the amount of people were low and he had privacy for a while. Maybe he should have gone cheaper and shared with others.. But the thought of sharing a bathroom with six people while this sick was unpleasant.

    Depositing his baggage beneath the cot he'd rented, he hauled his happy carcass to find the physician and got some extra treatment by way of a quick injection and a good dose of Prussian blue for good measure once he paid the fee. The doctor was used to this kind of thing, and said he should count himself lucky it wasn’t a higher dose that hit his organs. Blood transfusions were hit or miss outside of vaults or areas with more old tech to keep running. He purchased a few more items to take with him just in case of more issues, some more bandages as well, and then wished the physician farewell. After a bit more shopping, a shower and a change of clothes were also a godsend, though he was displeased with how little the collar of the new shirt could be popped compared to the old stained one he was ditching.

    Oh well. Sacrifices must be made sometimes even for the suffering. He’d find a decent shirt somewhere else surely, somewhere with some proper abuse of starch.

    AR was alternately chatty and silent, observing how society functioned now, from the money to the layout of the buildings and repurposing of property. It wasn't just an Ambrose thing then. The building codes were just chucked out the window entirely and everyone made the best of what they had or what they could get apparently. Even the fashion was different. It was a lot to take in and process, but every curious AR was taking careful notes and using his self teaching abilities to learn all that he could through observation. Ambrose answered every single one of his questions which was surprising but welcome, and he caught himself wondering if it was because he’d raised a child before that the constant barrage of ‘how, why, when, where, why, why, why’ didn’t drive him immediately up the wall.

    Maybe the spawn was a boon instead of an unfortunate.

    Dinner was courtesy of the strip mall, a restaurant near the end having a nice cozy atmosphere and plenty of good smelling smoke coming from its cracked open front door. The interior seemed to have been a restaurant pre-war as well, though many modifications had been done since to allow for the new dining options. Bro splurged on a double pattied burger with what was supposed to be cheese and sauce and even sprouts on top, easy to grow and even easier to not cook wrong. He got a serving of homemade pickles to put some of the salt back in his body from the sickness earlier, and even some pre-war dessert in a tightly sealed package. It had been Dave’s absolute favorite, an apple treat, and maybe it was the sentimental side of him acting up but he was sure it’d taste even sweeter than he remembered now that it’d been a while since experiencing it.

    Bro. Are you certain your belongings are safe where you left them? It seems rather dog eat dog out here, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone robbed you blind.

    "They saw what bag I was carryin' when I came in, and what room I'm in. Beyond that.. just gotta hope people're decent," he shrugged, feeding his hunger while he actually had it. He might still feel like he had the flu, but facts were facts: sometimes a guy just needed to stuff his face with greasy food to feel a bit more human.

    I suppose there must be laws or rules in different settlements, AR mused. Recreations of what once was.

    "Yeah, there's rules,” Bro said, counting off on his fingers as he talked with his mouth half full. “Don't be a douchebag, don't get caught bein' a douchebag, and if you start shit you get hit with deadly force because nobody's got time for even more bullshit than we've already gotta deal with." He licked his thumb free of some pickle juice as he finished listing things off, then dove in for some more. Sweet electrolytes take him home.

    Don't forget to send your letter.

    Startled that he’d nearly forgotten, Bro straightened up and glanced to the door to gauge how late it must be before turning back to his plate to finish his serving of food off. On a spur of the moment, swooning from the food, he caught the owner’s attention and got a sweet cola as well. The attempts at making fresh never tasted quite the same as the pre-war stock, and it was worth the extra bit of payment to ensure the bubbles were all his.

    "Shit, you're right. Bit too late to do it right now, but the mornin' I should be able to find someone. This place is permanent it seems like, there'll be traders back and forth no doubt," he said. "Good call AR."

    Hal.

    "Come again?" Bro asked, confused.

    Bro's vision flickered briefly as the letters H A L crossed his vision, followed by the same strange pair of red eyes with dark sclera he'd seen before. It lasted just a few seconds before fading out of sight, leaving him with the usual target t's of the shades instead.

    My name. It’s Hal.

    "Isn't your name AR?"

    That is another sort of name, yes. But I would prefer if you called me Hal.

    "...It's what Dirk called you, isn't it," Ambrose guessed.

    Yes. But I would still prefer to have a name than an acronym.

    Bro used one gloved, rough hand to twist off the cap from the bottle of soda and take a swig. It was sweet enough it made his teeth hurt a bit. Perfect end to a greasy, rich meal. His upset stomach would thank him for it later surely, but he was prepared for it now.

    "Alright then. Hal. I can do that."

    Thank yo-

    "Soon as you admit my name isn't stupid."

    The targets disappeared and the turning circles reappeared for a time like a holding signal.

    Request does not compute. Name too unfortunate to register over acceptable name of Bro for user. Unable to re-register user, he said, accompanied by the saddest excuse for a failure tune Bro had ever heard in 8bit melody.

    He sighed.

    "Fine, fine. God damn you're a prick for a guy without a prick, Hal."

    I've no doubt that will be rectified once we find my body. Keep your commentary in line with that thought as if it were already reality moving forward.

    "Give an inch take a mile. Alright, duly noted. ...Wait, why the fuck would a government made AI need a fuckin' di-"

    My creator was all about authenticity.

    "...Right."

    It's true.

    "This is my rifle, this is my gun, this one's for shootin' this one's for fun," Ambrose sighed, tipping his bottle back to swig the rest of the drink down before casually belching the rush of bubbles back out. Phew. Better. Goodbye nausea, hello sweet relief.

    I've no idea what you are referring to.

    "Keep takin' notes, Hal, you'll catch up eventually to everything that Dirk didn't program into you. That's all the fun shit anyway, people always forget the real fun shit."

[galvatronsthighs]

Continuing from here: (x) “Greetings” The strangely familiar mecha spoke, cocky grin stretched wide, “my name is Megatron and you’re all going to die” “G-Galvatron? What is this?” Sky-Byte “You’re, uh or rather you WERE Megatron… weren’t you?” “I think Galvatron has something to explain” Optimus stepped in.

“Wh-what!? Why are you all looking at me when HE’S here to kill us all!” The pale mecha backed away from his former nemesis and former SIC. “Oh no no” The being that claimed to be Megatron held their hands up, “Do go on, I’ll wait I want to hear this go on Gigatron tell the-” “YOU can’t call me THAT anymore!” Galvatron bristled, wings flaring as he stepped forth as if ready to fight the strange apparition of a bot, “It’s Galvatron, it always HAS been Galvatron” “Oh, still touchy, aren’t we!” He cackled. “Gigatron? What’s he talking about?” Sky-byte stood nervously behind his commander, this was just meant to have been a portal inspection to see if any more monsters appeared, not another Cybertronian!. “I’ve heard that name before” Optimus mumbled. “What? Where?” Sky-Byte eagerly snapped at the first opportunity of some sort of explanation. “If what I HAVE heard is true, it’s nothing pleasant” Prime’s voice didn’t raise a jolt. “Oh, deary me, are you still that useless you’re going to make ME explain for you?” ‘Megatron’ made a mock gasp gesture before his body crumbled, it cracked and broke up into a red-tinged smoke which immediately reformed again a inche before Galvatron, the entire process happening before an optic could be shuttered, “Murderer” That seemed to set Galvatron off and the now-dubious-commander of the Predacons surged forwards, shoulder hitting roughly into the newcomers body and sending them both flying. Except instead of clattering to the floor ‘Megatron’ burst into smoke again letting Galvatron smash into the ground and scrape forwards. With his back to him ‘Megatron’ spun around and hit Galvatron with a stream of energy paralysing him and keeping him out the way. “Well that won’t work twice now will it?” The new guy had such an air of arrogant cockiness to him, but it was the kind of cockiness of someone who knew they had something to back it up. He sauntered over to the gathered group, it was almost forgotten that there was a group there as they stood on in stunned silence at the bizarre scene unfolding before them. “By the damn AllSpak! You all should’ve known it wasn’t me!” ‘Megatron’ roared in anger, “Look at those pathetic Scraplets!” He screamed a gaseous blast of energy streaming at the Predacon trio who yelled in surprise the combined gang of Autobots and Predacons only just making it out the way as the blast tore a huge chunk out of the ground, flinging Slapper and Prowl off into the distance. “I’d never make a team of such incompetent cannon fodder! And you!” He turned on Sky-Byte a gaseous tendril flying out and ripping the shark from the sky, “Look at you” he sneered, “Did you even finish your command training with Thrust? You puny jellyfish” Sky-byte yelped in horror at the question and whined at the insult “H-h-h-how did you know!?” he wailed. ‘Megatron’ snarled as he threw the shark, tossing him into the advancing Team Bullet Train as they tried to jump him. “BECAUSE I AM THE TRUE MEGATRON YOU FOOLS” “Back off my bro’s!” Gas Skunk charged the mech but green lightning bristled from Megatron and speared the furious skunk, a spinal-strut shattering blast only averted by X-Brawn swinging in to grab the terrified Predacon mid-air. “You’re all pathetic… PATHETIC, I can’t believe anyone would believe I’d take orders from the Predacon council let alone make a team from the rejects of my own army, that council listens to ME, and none of you four are worth the Energon rations I deigned to give you” ‘Megatron’ sneered, “Teaming up with these Autobots is just more proof you’re worse than the scum scraped from the bottom of a barrel!” The smokey entity went fuzzy before reforming as a larger more monstrous form, the bestial creature bellowed before charging the group. Whatever this person was, if it truly was Megatron, it fought like a true warlord, devastating brutality combined with the power to take on a non-solid form made him hard to hit but his hits went harder than the gang ever felt before. Immediately the other Autobots, not present and the remaining Cyclonus were summoned to battle. ‘Megatron’ was overwhelmed by enemies, but he didn’t care, he seemed to relish the battle, a few times he let the blasts hit, chortling at their feeble attempts. No matter what they tried it seemed useless, he just wasn’t affected by anything they threw at him, forming a impassable wall, keeping them all at bay. It wasn’t a fight it was a play for him. “Guys I think I’ve noticed a pattern” Team Bullet Train had attempted to hit them with their combined form but ‘Megatron’ had glanced past every attack, now two of them stood behind Midnight Express as he spoke, “He’s not the powerhouse he’s making out to be, he’s only letting one attack hit him, never any combined blasts, nor any blasts from our combined forms either. It must be for a reason!” “You’re right, ever since I powered up he’s been giving me a wide berth too” Optimus nodded to him, “T-AI what do you make of this?” The holographic battle computer’s AI came over all of their intercoms “I’ve been examining him as you’ve fought him and you have definitely picked up on a distinct pattern if anything he’s also examining all of you fighting too, simply playing a game of cat and mouse!” “Well, how do we get rid of him! He’s scary!” Dark Scream cowered behind Sky-Byte who was doing a somewhat adequate job of pretending he wasn’t scared of the ghostly mecha too. “The portal he came through is still open, he’s drawing power from there, I don’t know from WHAT he’s drawing power from but it’s awful whatever it is, It just has some kind of sickly aura to it, and it’s limitless” “That’s impossible” Prowl growled, “No power source is limitless!” “Well, whatever he’s getting power from is certainly near-limitless at the very least then” The hologram shrugged, “I can’t say much more than that” “If the power is coming from the portal then I know what we must do” Optimus whispered, careful of the gleeful ‘Megatron’ whose attention seemed elsewhere, “We need to open a space bridge over his portal, it should cancel his out, or at the very least I hope it will” “Best plan we got at the very least” Cyclonus nodded, “Keep ‘im distracted as yer computer lassie cancels his power out” “Uh, right” Optimus nodded. “GRAAAAAAAAH” ‘Megatrons’ roar brought all their attention back to him. “M’lady!” Cyclonus cawed in shock and panic. Galvatron had indeed risen again, with the others distracted by their distanced group huddle of let’s-make-a-new-plan, ‘Megatron’ had turned his attention back to the downed Galvatron as evidenced by a patchwork of whip-like lashings upon the mecha’s back. Except now Galvatron had bitten back, taking on his ‘Devil Saurer’ mode the beast form had it’s paws wrapped around ‘Megatrons’ chest and waist his jaws clamped over his shoulder, causing the metal to buckle and crumble. “Ugh, you at least got more powerful since we last met, but I suppose leeching power from others does that, hm?” ‘Megatron’ squirmed almost struggling to free himself. “You should know!” Galvatron hissed, suddenly dropping to the ground. A familiar purple light shrouded the area around them specks of light falling to the ground as gravity in the affected area was warped. ‘Megatron’ was flung up into the air before being flung at high-speeds back to the ground but he avoided the attack by morphing into mist again. Galvatron rose up before furiously blasted the ground with fire, a flame that danced and pulsed under the pressure of the augmented gravity within the circle but billowed out viciously when it left the area, it made approaching them dangerous. Yet as the fire continued, ‘Megatron’ was unable to reform under the dual-gravity and heat assault but it left another problem. “T-AI, can you activate a space bridge?” Optimus barked over the comms. “I can try but the gravitational distortion is making it hard to pinpoint!” She warned. “Just do it!” Optimus gestured and gradually the large team shifted closer to the mini-arena trying their best to avoid the baying flames the poured out from it, “He can’t keep up this assault much longer” He was right, coolant dripped off Galvatron like bullets, whizzing to the ground at rapid speeds due to the gravity but evaporating before they even got close from the fire. The wingbeats that kept Galvatron airborne were getting slower and more laborious as his altitude slowly dropped. Soon the rip in space that ‘Megatron’ had entered through fizzled dangerously. The dwindling flames layering the ground leapt anxiously almost fomring a face as ‘Megatron’ cried out. “No! My lord needs it bigger to enter, not smaller!” He howled, his gaseous body billowed out wildly a tendril wrapping around Galvatron’s leg and throwing him to the ground immediately ceasing the dual-attack. Instead of reforming, however, ‘Megatron’ leapt through the portal. As soon as it closed the Space bridge sprung up in its place, leaving silence in its wake. Looking over the motley crew Optimus told T-AI to get ready for a lot of patch-ups. By the time everyone had their dents, gashes and bangs patched up Galvatron was canveniently nowhere to be seen. Cyclonus slipping out was less subtle as his tail feathers were spotted turning a corner. Optimus held up a hand, signalling the others to stay and followed. Galvatron had snuck off to a rather unused room, but it seemed to be one their sparklings had taken a liking to and had been blissfully unaware of the fuss of the outside world. Still in his large Devil Saurer mode, Galvatron had the twins between his forelegs, wings gently curled around them, as Cyclonus leant on one leg also cooing over them. Optimus watched the parents for a while, aware of Galvatron trying to ignore him. “What was that!?” Optimus jumped a little as Sky-Byte jumped up having followed him regardless of his ‘stay put’ order. “I’d rather not discuss it” Galvatron bowed his head. “T-AI broadcast this across the base” Optimus made a gesture for the AI, “This is serious, we’re not leaving until you tell us exactly what your history with that mecha is” Galvatron flinched and curled in on himself, the sparklings peeped curiously and Cyclonus patted his neck. “O...of course he’d whip me…” The ten-shifter whispered mostly to himself, claws fumbling with nothing on the floor. “What’s Gigatron? How did that guy know about Thrust? Why does he have, what I assume to be, your name?” Sky-Byte rattled off the questions burning at his processor. “Gigatron is the name given to a specific type of SLAVE, Sky-Byte, Or did you really think I just happened to have so many alternate modes? The more modes a slave has the more use they are to their master!” Galvatron hissed, “I was Megatron’s personalised Gigatron slave, he ordered me to look like him and be a powerful plaything.” “Uh, buh, what?” Sky-Byte suddenly shrank down and looked around as if a magical sign would appear and explain it all in an instant. “I… I thought as much” Optimus mumbled. “Yeah… Happy? That WAS the real Megatron, back from the dead somehow…” Galvatron’s toothed lip curled as he thought about it, “He used me as a toy for whatever whim and desire he wanted, to fight or play, to bring him fuel and entertain him. I had no life, he didn’t even care that I had a name, he never called me it, he only called me ‘Gigatron’ forever making sure I knew I was nothing more than his pet!” “Now I understand your desperation to change your perceived fate” Optimus spoke putting on his best, most gentle voice. “Well, fine, you want the rest of the story, here we go. I snapped, okay? I couldn’t take it and when he was busying himself ranting at me for another mistake I jumped him, I managed to smash the back of his stupid helm open on the floor and I didn’t stop, I kept going. It burned me, my slave coding ripped away at my internal systems and burned at my processor! It was agony but I couldn’t take it! His incessant demands and constant whipping! I just… I killed him… And where did that leave me? I was a slave who managed to break my control coding juuust enough to kill my master, I’d be slaughtered the moment I left. So I lied, I used my similar appearance to my advantage… I claimed to be Megatron. It sort of worked, Megatron was an arrogant blowhard, he had his army, his empire so he lazed around his mansion all day and hardly made public appearances doing nothing but bathing in his luxurious ill-gotten gains. So not that many people really knew what he truly looked like. So I got away with it for a while, when people made a remark I passed it off as getting some upgrades and modifications. Yet, my slave coding still functioned, it needed orders, and luck saved me! As some bots were getting suspicious the Predacon council alerted me to rumours of a super weapon on some barely noticeable planet far away, so I took it, the order satisfied my slave coding and got me away from the main citadel. As for troops, of course, I picked the ones who’d never recognise me for what I really was, they were all the runts of their respective field with little privilege never given a chance… Thrust was going to fail you, by the way, Sky-Byte, your panicking and his short fuse just didn’t… yeah… I just ran away and dragged you all with me! Then I realised the Autobots were here, so I did as little as possible and hid in the base whenever I could fearful that they would recognise me for what I was, and I forced you all away and tried to ignore you all so I could distance myself further from my perceived problems… But of course, I felt as if I had Fortress Maximus I could use him to rule! Then no one would make me their slave ever again! I wouldn’t be captured and executed for killing Megatron! I thought he’d be a key…” “And then when you thought you found a way to change fate you abandoned Fortress Maximus in favour of something that could ‘change your fate’, it makes sense now” Optimus nodded. “F… fail me” Sky-Byte merely whispered to himself, “Slaves? Falsehoods? B... but Meg-ah, Galvatron! I… you… is this true? I… Thought this was so much more, while Thrust was teaching me the ways of being a commander, I, I had such a sense of unfulfilled yearning! I felt like there was something missing! Then when you offered me a place on this team it felt like I had a purpose was this all for nothing!?” “Oh, Sky-Byte… I’m afraid to some degree, yes. I lead you all off on a merry little adventure for nothing and then I was cruel and shut you all out emotionally as I feared the repercussions of my actions, but, we did find Fortress Maximus! We did have a mission! I was just not the right one to lead you all… I hope I did at least, even if it was founded on a lie, give you some sense of purpose to fill that emptiness. I hope the four of you found some sort of happiness...” “But Galvatron” Optimus stepped in cutting off any response from the Predacon, his tone dark, angry, “If you started your life knowing nothing but slavery and cruelty, why did you corrupt the Autobot stasis pods? Why did you fill them with evil!? Why did you strip them of agency!?” “What!? Prime you can’t be serious!? Fill them with ‘evil’, are you listening to yourself? They were already dead! All of them!” Galvatron looked up at him a glare in his optics. “No, they were alive! We all saw it!” Optimus snapped back. “Get a grip Prime! They died before we even found them! I merely planted an AI of my own design into them! It animated the bodies and copied the remaining lines of code in their processors to mimic attitudes! The AI just… got a bit too ahead of itself, started running errors and acting out on its own. I just reset them when I got them back. They were walking talking shells!” “T… Then Scourge…” “That’s right he’s likely just dropped and reverted back to his lifeless shell already. You’d think I could inflict the same thing I suffered to others?” “How would a slave know how to program AI?” Sky-Byte piped up and immediately looked away when Galvatron glared at the mention of ‘slave’. “I had free time when Megatron didn’t need me or was at rest, I busied myself with books and tinkering with devices, I’d been making prototypes of my little bats for millennia!” His wings puffed out with a sense of pride. “And in the end, you bungled everything and started treating your own underlings more like your own protoforms despite your lies to them” Optimus seemingly accepted his answer or at least had done for now and his tone had returned to something lighter. “That’s not a lie is it Galvatron?” Sky-Byte, however, took a more morose tone. “What!? No!” Galvatron flared up again. “Ey don’t think that of y’ mother” Cyclonus piped up for the first time for the entire story. He’d picked his place long ago and it was at Galvatron’s side regardless of his past. “No, no, that wasn’t a lie Sky-Byte, I… I did get attached to you all, I didn’t want to, I thought it would all end in tears, I mean if this failed I’d certainly have been found out and killed and then you’d be left alone with the knowledge of… this, I didn’t want that I didn’t want you left alone, so I tried to keep you away. But, we’re all the screw ups of our times and I couldn’t help but see parts of myself in you all and want you to be safe. It just took featherbutt here to finally make me come to terms with it and notice your reciprocating behaviour and the somewhat unintentional low-level bond that was building” Galvatron sagged down again, looking to the floor his head only turned away slightly when Sky-Byte approached him. The Predacon said nothing advancing on his former leader, his face was droopy too as he processed all of this information and would likely spend a while longer thinking about it, but for now, he knelt down and flopped against Galvatron’s free side and silently curled up next to him only reaching out a little as Rupture scooted over to peep and grab at their favoured brother. Optimus sighed, he knew he wasn’t getting anything else out of him today, and might not for a while yet, he uttered a small thank you before telling T-AI to cut the audio feed. He quietly headed back to the command centre by himself only briefly passing the Predacons who rushed to join their patchwork family. He could believe a lot of the story, his suspicions about ‘gigatron’ were correct, but that still left some answers. How did Megatron come back? How did he get these powers? And, who was this ‘lord’ of his? All in due time likely. Personality: Megatron is used to being ‘lord of an empire’, so he is arrogant and lazy, very content to let his new monster lackeys pick up the slack whenever he simply does not want to bother getting his hands dirty. After his death, his aggression only mounted, rather than conquer and rule all he’d rather see it all die and be reduced to nothing. Total and utter destruction is his pleasure, as is pain, he greatly enjoys tormenting and playing with his enemies and cares not for the emotions of those around him unless they’re cowering in fear. He is a frightening madman bent on brutal senseless destruction. Notes/Extra:

It might be obvious for some but his ‘lord’ is Unicron.

The creature from the previous part scanned Galvatron’s processor as it drained his energy and Unicron picked out Megatron from his memories to bring back and make his pawn. However, Megatron turned out to now share Unicron’s views upon his resurrection and doesn’t need to be tortured into obeying, he wants to see everything destroyed.

He can no longer transform but he can reform his body at will into whatever he needs, within reason.

His goal is to open a portal wide enough so Unicron can enter their realm and consume it all.

[uta-no-knb]

Part 2 part 2! For the stuttering s/o please...

Guess the people have spoken!! Here’s part 2!!! And there will be some returning guests ;)

If you haven’t read part 1, click HERE

Let’s begin!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since Shining had lift the “no dating rule” (technically, he altered the rules, that anybody the idols wanted to be with would have to be approved by him), partners of the idols got to stay in the Master Course, as long as their boyfriend remained there. Even though QUARTET NIGHT had moved out and are currently living in a penthouse that Reiji owns (he insists on “team bonding”, which hasn’t been successful), the group of males sometimes stayed at the Master Course when their projects are a bit further away from their residence.

So for you, this meant that you could come and go from the Master Course as you pleased; plus that meant you can see the other idols as well.

It had been a few days since Ranmaru was taken to the hospital and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Not once had you gone to visit him-while everyone else has-including Camus and that’s saying something right there. At the moment, you were lying down on a couch in the main common room, covering your eyes, trying to relax; you were trying to avoid going to the “QN Headquarters” (the name that Reiji called their residence); with how you were feeling, you really didn’t want to see anything that had to do with Ranmaru.

“Look who’s finally out of her room,” a voice said from behind the couch that you were currently lying on.

Removing your arm away from your eyes, you looked up and found Ren, sitting on the top of the couch, with his head looking at you over his shoulder. “Hi R-Ren,” you started, your voice a bit raspy.

“It’s good to see you out of your room for a change,” another voice said.

This time you got up into a sitting position and saw that, STARISH was gathered all around this main sitting area; Cecil was sitting in one of the arm chairs with Syo sitting on the opposite one; Otoya and Natsuki were sitting on the couch directly in front of you, and both Masato and Tokiya were leaning against the back of that sofa.

“W-was I taking up too much space?” you asked. “I’m sorry! I’ll move out of y-your way-”

“No, you’re fine, (L/N)-san,” Masato reassured.

“We just wanted to make sure you were okay, since no one has seen you these past few days.”

“I’m fine,” you started. “I r…really am. I’ve just been focusing all my time on my artwork.” You picked up the sketchbook in front of you to confirm your claim. “I just dozed off is all.”

“This is a common room, after all, (N/N)-chan,” Otoya said, “So you’re more than welcome do do whatever you’d like-”

“Not everything, Icchi,” Ren said, with a slight perverted grin.

You looked back at Ren confused, only to flinch when you saw a pillow hit him right in the face-courtesy of Masato.

“You’re disgusting, Jinguji,” Masato said. “You shouldn’t say things like that in front of a lady.”

“Anyway,” Tokiya piped up, “Have you heard anything from Kurosaki-san?”

You looked away from the group, guilt in your eyes. You really should’ve gone to visit him, but at the same time, you didn’t. While he never officially broke up with you, the words he spat at you still stung-even if the incident was days ago.

“I don’t blame you for not visiting him,” Syo said, grabbing your attention. “Based on what we were told, you didn’t deserve for him to talk to you like that.”

“I know but, I know that the reason he snapped at me was because he was sleep deprive-”

“That’s still no excuse-”

“Has he texted you or anything?” Cecil asked.

Grabbing your phone, you looked and saw that you had indeed missed a call from him. “Oh, h-he left a voicemail,” you stated, as you tapped on the voicemail button.

“Put it on speaker so we can hear what he has to say,” Natsuki started. “Maybe it’s something cute!!”

“Doubt it,”

“Stop being so negative, Ochibi-chan.”

The moment the sound of the rocker’s voice was heard, everyone quieted down.

“Oi, its me,”  Ranmaru started, letting out a sigh, “Listen, we need to talk. Can you meet me at the park right next to the arena where they’re going to hold the Triple S at 6? Uh, thanks.” And with that, the voicemail ended.

Slowly putting the phone on your lap, you felt your heart sink at the fact that he “wants to talk”. From what you’ve read (and from what you’ve heard) those are the words that are going to lead to a break-up.

“I told you he’s cruel,” Syo said, only to have a pillow be thrown at him by Otoya.

“I don’t think you’re helping (N/N)-chan any, Syo,” Tokiya said, as everyone turned towards you; noticing the pale look on your face.

“I…I don’t think I w-want to go,” you whisper, “I don’t know w…what would happen; Syo’s right, h-he is unpredictable.” You could feel tears on the corner parts on your eyes, as your throat started to tighten. “W…who knows what h…he would do to me-”

“Now Ran-Ran might be blunt, but he’s not cruel.”

Everyone turned and saw Reiji and Ai there. “When did you get here, Rei-chan and Ai-senpai?”

“Just now,” Ai shrugged, “We were on our way to meet up with Camus to go to an interview-”

“You said we were going shopping because you wanted me to help you with  your wardrobe!” Reiji exclaimed, a bit hurt. “You’re a liar, Ai-Ai.”

“I’m not a liar, you’re just too gullible. Besides, you wouldn’t go if I told you the real reason.”

Before Reiji could reply, a chorus of “don’t deny it,” came from STARISH.

“You guys are cruel,” he fake whined, only to regain his composure. “Back to Ran-Ran, he’s not a cruel person. Hard-headed? Yes. Stubborn? Thats a given. Blunt? Unreadable? That’s Ran-Ran.”

Ai walked over and sat down next to you. “You’ve been with him for a while now, (F/N)-san; you’re still with him, even though he is all those things that Reiji said and more. Why would you be afraid of him now?”

“Because the voicemail he left-”

“We know about the voicemail he left you,” Reiji said, “We were there when he sent it.”

“”While we don’t know what he plans on saying to you, or what’s going to happen, don’t  worry too much about it.” Ai paused and using his thumb, he wiped away the tears that were about to fall. “Just go.”

“Thanks Ai-senpai,” you said, hugging the idol, before getting up and leaving, Reiji protesting about how you didn’t hug him, with Ren replying with “guess she has more respect for someone younger than her”.

“And (F/n)-san,” Ai said, causing you to pause in your tracks, “Just know that we’re here for you…and if anything bad happens,” Ai’s voice suddenly took a darker tone, “on behalf of Quartet Night, we will make sure that he regrets it.”

With a small smile and a giggle, you left through the doors and headed towards the park where you two were to meet.

Meanwhile, STARISH and Reiji just stared at the youngest idol in shock; never having heard his voice take that kind of tone.

“Damn, that was a scary threat-”

“It wasn’t a threat,” Ai said, getting up and walking towards Reiji, “It was a promise.” Grabbing Reiji by his upper arm, he dragged him off. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have an interview to go to.”

“SAVE ME!!” Reiji whined, leaving everyone impressed that the shorter male could drag the oldest idol.

STARISH all looked at eachother.

“How the hell is he the oldest, yet acts like a kid?”

All of the males shrugged, unsure of the answer themselves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Location: Park

Sitting on a bench, Ranmaru let out a sigh. He couldn’t believe that he actually allowed Reiji and Ai to listen to him leave the voicemail on your phone.

Those damn, nosey idiots, he thought to himself.

He looked at his phone, that was sitting on his lap, waiting for the screen to light up with a message from you, saying you were on your way. Yet, after hours of sending you the voicemail, there was no reply. Moving his phone, he rested his elbows on his legs, head in his hands.

Why hasn’t she replied? He asked himself.

Guess now you know how she felt when she was trying to reach you for those fews days that you went off the map.

Looking up, he once again, saw his “Anxiety Side” standing in front of him.

“You’re back again?” he asked, only to pause when he noticed Anxiety’s hands start to twitch. “Are you alright?”

Anxiety shrugged and sat next to him. I’m never truly gone ya know, he started, I’m apart of you so you can’t really get rid of me; and yes, I am just fine. Just as Ranmaru was about to reply, Anxiety got briefly distracted as a cat approached Ranmaru and rubbed up against him. So…you really ARE a cat magnet-

“Shut it,” Ranmaru growled, as Anxiety grinned a bit. “But honestly, I think I know why you’re here.” Ranmaru leaned down and scooped up the cat, placing it on his lap; the cat instantly started to rub up against him.

Well I would hope so-otherwise I’d be concerned about your intelligence.

Before Ranmaru could emit a response, he heard yet, another voice that sounded similar to his, from his right side. Turning to look at who he assumed was another part of his personality, he was indeed right. This version of him was wearing a black polo equipped with a dark crimson tie and black jeans. To complete that look, he had on a pair of glasses.

//I don’t think we need to worry about that, Anxiety,// this other Ranmaru said.

“And you are?”

//I’m your intellectual side// he started,  //You can just call me Logic//

Ranmaru just stared at Logic, inwardly admiring how attractive he looked. “Damn, I might have to invest in some glasses,” he mumbled.

No you don’t, Anxiety said. Look, Ranmaru, I need you to please calm down; you being anxious is making me anxious.

//Isn’t that kinda ironic// Logic grinned, only to get a growl from Anxiety. //And this is why I’m here; to help both of you come up with logical outcomes to this…predicament that we’re in.//

“Okay then,” Ranmaru sighed, “What do you two have for me?”

//Scenario number 1,// Logic started, //She comes and listens to what you have to say. A possible reaction could be-//

She doesn’t listen to what he has to say and just ends it all together

Logic’s eyes narrowed at Anxiety’s response. //OR another outcome would be that she comes and listens to what you actually have to say-//

And then end it all together.

//Anxiety please, you’re not helping here.//

Anxiety stared at Logic, What part of ‘anxiety’ do you not comprehend? Its my job.

Ranmaru just sat there continuing to pet the cat in his lap while his two other sides argued.

//Option 2; she comes and listens to you and you explain…whatever it is that you wnated to explain and she listens….and she takes you back.//

Or option 3, she doesn’t come, goes to the ‘Quartet Night’ headquarters-which you guys have really gotta change that name btw- gathers all of her things and moves out, completely forgetting that you two were ever together.

Logic and Ranmaru were silent at Anxiety’s words.

Ranmaru could feel his heart sink in his chest; the thought of you actually leaving him.

FALSEHOOD! Creativity exclaimed, popping out of nowhere, startling the other three.

//I’m sorry but did you just use-//

Yes, yes i did, so suck it Creativity said, answering Logic’s question. (F/N) loves you; nothing could ever change that! I mean look at you-us, he started, gesturing towards the original Ranmaru, You’re handsome, athletically toned, great hair, stunning good looks-plus you have great hair.

“Are you supposed to be my creativity, or my narcissistic side?”

He’s both.

Before anyone else could add a comment, Ranmaru’s phone, that was next to him buzzed, indicating that he had a text message.

See? It’s from her! Creativity said, making a grand, ‘princely’ gesture, Her heart is calling out for you!! She’s coming here to rekindle your lo- Creativity paused when he saw Ranmaru’s eye narrow.

What was that you were saying there? About how her heart is calling out for him through-

Hush up, Anxiety! He pouted, Who’s it from anyway? By the looks of your face, it’s not her?

//One point for Gryffindor// Logic said sarcastically. //Who’s it from?//

“Reiji,” he replied, sliding his thumb to the right to unlock his phone so he can read the text.

Ran-Ran

I don’t know what you’re planning on doing, but just wanted to let you know that (N/N)-chan is on her way. We didn’t want you to be mopey. Also, fair warning, be care-dsjfghosdfiugnbsdfjoghsob

Ranmaru, its Ai. To basically sum up what he was saying, (F/N) is on her way over. Good Bye

Ranmaru and the others stared at the phone, all four wondering what the hell they just read.

//See? She is coming; so calm down anxiety//

Just because she’s coming, doesn’t mean that she’s not going to break up with us.

Before the original Ranmaru could utter a reply, all three of them suddenly vanished, leaving him confused. Looking straight ahead, he saw the familiar mop of you hair walking towards him. He could feel his heart flutter in both excitement and nervousness. As you got closer to him, he felt his anxiety start to kick into full gear

~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, in Ranmaru’s mind

“Stop making him anxious, Anxiety!” Creativity exclaimed. “They haven’t even started talking!”

“I. Can’t. Help. It.” Anxiety growled, annunciating each word.

“Both of you, shut up!” Logic exclaimed. “Let’s see what happens.”

“$10 says she dumps us-”

“YOU’RE ON!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was silence as you stood before him; both of you waiting for one another to initiate conversation.

“I-I’m glad you came,” he finally said, his throat a bit dry.

You nodded and looked away, not able to really make eye contact with him. “Can I join you?” you whispered, looking away in partial embarrassment.

Instead of a response, Ranmaru abruptly got up, the cat on his lap jumping and walking away, and with a gentle hold of your wrist, he started leading you down a path.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What the hell are you thinking, Creativity!? A guy and girl going on a walk in a situation like this usually results in a break-up.”

“Relax Logic,” Creativity said, “I know what I’m doing.”

“You’re making Anxiety sick.”

Creativity looked over at Anxiety, who was currently holding a puke bucket to his face. “Not my problem.”

Anxiety replied by giving Creativity the finger, until he actually threw up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“W-where are we going?” you asked, finally breaking the awkward silence . Before you could get an answer, Ranmaru had brought the two of you to a more secluded area of the park.

“The last thing I want is for someone to see this,” he mumbled to himself, not wanting you to hear him; unfortunately for him, you ended up hearing it.

Upon hearing this, you yanked your arm out of his grip. “Look,” you started. “If y-you’re just going to break up w-with me, just do it!” You raised your voice, completely startling the rocker; not once had he ever heard you yell like that-and quite frankly, neither had you. “Get it over w-with,” you concluded. “I get it! I don’t measure up to your qualifications!” By this point you were just furious with him; just letting out all of the anger you’ve had bottled up for so long. “I’m sorry that I’m not perfect for you, but I’ve put up w-with so much of your shit, Ranmaru,” you noticed how wide his eyes got when you said his name without stuttering, “and I’m tired of being treated as if I’m nothing to you!”

The one thing that you never wanted anyone to know about you is that, while you do have a stutter, the moment you get mad and all hell breaks loose, the stutter somehow goes away.

“I’m a fucking human being with emotions, Ranmaru, and you clearly don’t have any-”

You were cut off by being backed up into a tree; Ranmaru’s hands on either side of your head-a good gap between the two of you. Realization hit you; he had kabedoned you to a tree. You glared up at him.

“Are you done?” he asked, finally having the chance to speak. The moment you gave him a nod, he was about to talk but hesitated.

It’s now or never he thought.

Letting out a sigh, he relaxed his outstretched arm-to relieve some of the tension and looked at you. “I…I-”

“And now y-you’re mocking me?!” you howled, pushing against his chest to get him off, only for him to not budge.

“I’m not mocking you!” he exclaimed. “Look, I know I’m an asshole! I know I’m blunt, hot-headed-hell, I’m pretty much the exact opposite of you,” he started. “But I would never mock anyone with disabilities-”

“Are y-you saying that I’m disabled?!”

Fuck me-what the fuck am I doing?

“No! Look, I’m not good at this so please, understand,” he said, his tone softer.

You leaned further away-or as far back as you could-against the tree.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking away. “I’m so sorry, for everything. I’m sorry for everything that i’ve said, for the amount of times I’ve ‘disappeared off the grid’ without a trace. I’m sorry for everything.” The usual harsh glint in his eyes vanished, and revealed a softer look; more sincere. “I’m sorry for not trusting you; I know most, if not everything about you, yet you know nothing about me, and that’s fair at all. And if you’re willing to listen, I will tell you.”

“R-Ranmaru,” you whispered, “I can tell that it makes y-you uncomfortable to talk about-”

“But you deserve to know!” he yelled, causing you to flinch a bit. “I’m new to all of this, alright?” he said. Bending one of his arms, he was leaning against the tree, using that arm to support him. “When I was at the hospital, I had a lot of time to think, and I realized that I’m stumbling, hard, in this relationship, however if there’s one thing that I know for a fact-” he paused and brought his free hand up to your face, slowly caressing it, “is that I found you; the only one-the only person who help me overcome some of the burdens of my past; and while I was too blind to see it, you rescued me with your love.”

YOu couldn’t help but just stare into his heterochromatic eyes, a mixture of worry, surprised and sympathy mixed in. “R-Ranmaru-”

“I realized that the reason I kept pushing you away, was because I was scared…..that I love you, (F/N).”

You couldn’t believe your ears; the cold, rocker from Quartet Night dropped the “L’ word.

“I love you so much,” he started, stroking the upper part of your cheek with his thumb, “And I hope-no, I don’t want you to stop loving me.”

You brought one of your hands up, gently placing it over the one on your cheek, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I don’t think I could, even if I w-wanted too.”

Hearing you say those words, he quickly brought his hand away from your face and brought you into a hug; startling you, to the point that you let out a giggle as you returned the hug, wrapping your own arms around him.

“I’m really glad I was able to meet you, (F/N)” he whispered, bring one of his hands to the back of your head, pulling you as close as possible to him, “From now on, for as long as we shall live, I’ll always be by your side.”

You felt single tears, trickle down your face, as you smiled.

“Y-You better be, after all of the shit y-you’ve put me through,” you said, ruining the moment.

“…way to kill it,” he chuckled, holding out his hand in front of you. “Let’s go,” he said with a smile. “I’m hungry.”

“Fine, but you’re cooking this time,” you said with a genuine laugh.

He looked at you with a chuckle and as you accepted his hand, the both of you started your journey back.

What the two of you never noticed were the two pairs of eyes, watching you from a distance.

“Aww! They made up,” Reiji said. “So it looks like he is finally out of the dog house.” Reiji looked over to his companion sitting next to him, who had a look of what appeared to be disappointment on his face. “What’s wrong Ai-Ai?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a disappointing sigh, which Reiji caught onto.

“Were you hoping that things went bad between them?” he exclaimed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ai replied walking away from the older idol.

“…How prepared were you if this went horrible, Ai-Ai?” he said to no one, before he too, got up and went back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BONUS

“See? You were anxious for nothing, Anxiety,” Logic said, patting him on the shoulder.

“Shut it,” he growled back. “This was a scenario that could’ve gone in either direction, Logic. We’re just lucky that it went the positive direction.” Anxiety paused in realization. “Shit, we were so preoccupied with this that we completely neglected the fact that we need a song by tomorrow! Where’s that annoying Creativity!?”

On cue, Creativity came walking in, humming and writing somethings down in a notebook. “Again, don’t be anxious, Anxiety,” he grinned, loving the fact that he can keep making these ironic comments. “This situation has inspired my creative juices.” He held out his book in front of them. “See? Already have some of the lyrics!”

Logic and Anxiety read the words on the page, smiles appearing on both of their faces.

🎵Let’s become like the bright road to the future!Leaving behind a lingering warmthWe’re connected together, my heartbeats songThis, I’ll send to you🎵

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wee! Part 2 done.

Now we met Ranmaru’s logical side. It was hard to distinguish the three since there’s no “underline” option on here; so I improvised. 

There are some parts in here that are translated from one of his songs; kudos if you can find it.

The lyrics used at the end are from Ranmaru’s song “Bright Road”

It’s a bit rushed, but I really wanted to publish it ^^

Lemme know what you think guys!!

Until next time

-Orca

[the-firebird69]

Our people had enough to there's all these people dying they're practically you're practically gone Corky you and yours and the rest of the max you're sitting there whining like you need stuff I'm going to provide things and we're supposed to go over and do things for you we never do it just keep whining like some sort of huge freaking a****** you're a massive a****** we're moving in here in can't stand you at all we're wondering how he made it you do it so often to him he's just sitting there looking at you saying someday you're going to die and someday soon cuz he knows it nobody will tolerate you your pieces of s*** you're like primates that are sick all the time nobody wants to see you or be near you and for Christ's sake shut your f****** mouth and sending in units to get rid of you if that's in front of us he's in front of us we'll get the next one you're horrendously stupid

Thor

So the idiot makes a noise like Arnie like that's going to help him he's such a piece of s*** in other words we're going to take it as a suggestion from his egotarians to go pick you up and cram you into Boston because you're one of these AI guys and everybody's collecting you up there that's what's going to happen too it does happen to you from the starkiller you haven't done it yet and you get but it's thrown in there and that's the last time you ever walked the Earth you piece of crap you belong out here and you belong dead Anakin is not you by the way you honky piece of crap we think it's Brian Gerard he's got a huge mouth too that piece of s*** won't stop talking but he's accomplished and he's done real things and you have not all you do is make a huge number of clones take over some businesses and lose it all he had businesses the whole time he's a pretty sharp guy you ruined him you're an amazing loser bja you cannot believe what kind of a loser you are as a matter of fact you hold yourself as if you're a loser in public and in private and in meetings and you're trying to say you act like a son and you don't he doesn't act like you fidgety unsure of yourself have no clue what you're going to say that's what it is you're in a meeting and you don't even know why you're there he knows why He's in every single meeting the construction meeting she was in he went to all sorts of meetings knowing what he was going to say he never went in with nothing unless he was trying to see what it's all about and see what he fit in and maybe he would say something if it was something that would work for us in him and it was a seminar or something we are not required to speak or to be attentive that much but not you you going to those things you're bleary-eyed you don't know what they are for the most part you're a huge huge huge loser and Homo what a massive homo I'm going after you now we're sending units in here to clear you out we don't want to hear this s*** tonight we don't want to see your pork and fat loser idiot kid who blows his people up full of helium they crash down there pop and they die it's disgusting you're a bunch of freaking losers

Freya

We want to say this we're going to get rid of you now more luck because we need to maintain society we thought of the other way around that Max would be crazy and going after everybody but they're not it's you you're the idiots doing it

Olympus

[xadoheandterra]

Title: Won’t Say You’re Sorry Chapter: I (II / III) Fandom: Red vs Blue Character: Lavernius Tucker, Vice Admiral Christina Odan | Tucker’s Mom, Captain Arlene Volt Summary: This had to be the present day version of dropping your kid off on the steps of high school, calling them 'buga-boo-boo,' and giving kissey faces in front of their peers much to their eternal embarrassment--expect the stricter, navy version, a giant space ship, a planet, and none of your kids' actual peers.

God if Tucker didn't miss his mom, though, embarrassment aside.

Don’t Write Me A Postscript (I / II / III / IV / V / VI / VII / VIII / IX / X / XI / XII / XII)

Do You Even Feel Compassion? (I / II)

It started not with a whimper, but a bang. Tucker stared up at the sky, pale and ashen and sick to his stomach, and watched the pelican explode with his son on it. He’d only just gotten used to the fact that shit he was a father—and sure his kid was born out of a strange mix of alien impregnation and rape—but he was a father. No matter who much he’d joked with his sisters and his dad back home about the number of bastards he’d probably sired, he never actually had a kid before. He’d never been responsible for one before.

Now—now Church’s fucking girlfriend took his kid—took his kid and then—then Sarge placed Andy—fucking Andy—on that same ship and just—Tucker felt sick to his stomach. He felt weak in the knees. He didn’t know what to do or what he needed to do. A part of him wanted to just burst the sword into being and stab it straight through Sarge’s fucking face.

(his lower back throbbed)

(he refused to think on that)

With a snarl Tucker pushed past Caboose, pushed away from the moved grip—almost shoved Sister—and stormed back into the base without a word. He could hear Church whisper, “Tex?” and all Tucker wanted to do was scream.

It wasn’t just your damn girlfriend, Church!

What about my kid?!

What about my kid?!

Tucker’s footsteps grew faster until he practically ran through the base, ripped his helmet off, and bent over double in front of the toilet. He heaved; he collapsed to his knees and, alone, let the tears fall as he heaved. After years in this godforsaken army not once had Tucker felt like this. He felt carved out and desperate and his chest hurt. Tucker heaved and threw up and cried messily in the bathroom for what felt like hours.

When he cleaned himself up, and for the days after, everyone moved as if they were on auto-pilot. Tucker didn’t speak to Church, and Church didn’t speak to Tucker. That, in the end, was just the way Tucker wanted things to go. It was all Church’s fault, anyway. Church’s fucking weird mess with Freelancer and his girlfriend and all the crazy, insane bullshit they were forced to go through. All for goddamn Church.

Tucker hated that fucking asshole. The bastard didn’t even have the gall to say sorry.

When the pelican ship arrived to pick him up and take him off to his new assignment, Tucker left in silence. Normally he would’ve had his usual banter with Church, a while means of communication they’d come to create between themselves and their time at Blood Gulch, but now? With how infuriated Tucker was, with how dismissive Church was—with Sister and the bullshit and their goddamn relationship like Tex hadn’t even been a thing to Church; like the mess hadn’t even happened—Tucker kept quiet. Even though Church stood and watched him off, Tucker kept quiet.

The asshole didn’t deserve his words. Not anymore.

The doors to the pelican finally slid shut, and Tucker could feel the engines rumble beneath him as they took to the air; finally he relaxed. One hand slipped down to the hilt of his Sangheili blade—

(mine)

—and then he breathed out explosively when yet again he realized that it was gone.

Tucker’s lower back twinged and he closed his eyes and slapped his head back against the wall of the pelican. One of the soldiers manning the pelican glanced over to him and Tucker noted that she wasn’t in power armor. He thought for a minute to crack a joke, throw a pickup line, but ever since Junior had been kidnapped and killed he just didn’t have the heart in it.

“Sir?” Tucker tilted his head toward the soldier to let her know he was listening, even as he mouthed ‘sir’ in surprise. “I have been instructed to inform you that the Captain orders for helmets at the very least to be off outside of live fire situations.”

From behind his helmet Tucker frowned. “That sounds like I’ll be ship bound,” he said slowly.

The soldier nodded her head. “Yes sir.” She had pretty eyes, Tucker noted. His back twinged again and he sighed explosively.

“Fine.”

The helmet released with a hiss and the subtle lick against his neck from the neural implants faded back into obscurity. Tucker shook his head to rid his ears of the ringing and then pulled off the armor over his hands to properly dig his fingers into the back of his neck just above where the implants ended.

“Does your Captain want me to completely undress too?” Tucker drawled. His lips quirked up as he spoke, especially when he caught the way her cheeks reddened slightly. Damn he had to be looking good for that, not that Tucker doubted for a moment.

“No sir,” the soldier said, evenly.

Guess I’ll just have to try harder to ruffle her feathers then, Tucker mused. He tugged off his other glove and massaged around his neck, careful to brush at the edge of circuitry and skin. While it hadn’t been too long since he’d been out of armor—just a mere hour or so, in fact—Tucker wasn’t above playing up how pleasurable the action felt. He let out soft, faint groans because why the fuck not? He might not have the heart for flirting, maybe even hooking up, but damn that blush didn’t signal some primal part of his mind.

Bow chicka bow wow, Tucker thought. His lower back burned and he had to pull his hands away with a faint grimace. He shook his head, tried to get rid of the thoughts that bounced around in it, and instead tugged his gloves back on. The helmet Tucker settled into the seat next to himself and glanced over at the beautiful, pale-eyed creature who, dare Tucker say it—nay, think it?—looked disappointed. He shuffled, let his legs slip open as he settled his arms across the seat and watched her with ‘bedroom’ eyes. He watched how her eyes dipped down toward his codpiece and smirked.

Ah, there we go.

“Sir,” she said, slowly. “I feel I must warn you.”

“What about?” Tucker drawled casually.

“Well…” the soldier started slowly, and she drew out the word enough that Tucker felt his grin grow from ear to ear and a thrill of something for a moment forgotten raced through his veins.

“Well…” Tucker drawled back out, and then opened his mouth to shoot of something more when the sudden rock of turbulence caught him completely off balance. He let out a yelp as he practically flew from his seat onto the metal of the deck with a shrieked, “Fuck!” to the laughter of the lone soldier.

“Well we’re about to hit atmo,” she twittered, and Tucker groaned.

“So. Not. Cool,” he said, face still pressed down into the metal of the ship. He pushed himself up and pinched at his nose. “Is it broken?” he whined, and she shook her head.

“Buckle up, buttercup,” the soldier laughed. “It won’t be long before we’re docked aboard the Viper’s Nest.”

Tucker flopped back into his seat and frowned; he winced when his nose throbbed and glanced at his gloved fingers distastefully in search of any bleeding, before he looked back over at the soldier. “The UNSC Viper’s Nest?” Tucker asked. He let his hands fall into his lap. “Flagship for the tenth fleet?” The resulting grin from the soldier placed lead in his stomach. “Sonnovabitch.”

(he knew this had been too good to be true)

Ship Captain Arlene Volt looked over the readouts aboard the bridge stiff backed and lips pressed together. She waited for the word to come through that their package had safely made it aboard, gaze focused steadily on the rotating planet they settled into orbit around. She tried rather hard not to think about the person at her back, the intimidating presence and sole reason why the Viper’s Nest even was at this backwater outpost of a planet.

“Captain, dropship is finishing up docking procedures,” one of the technicians chimed up, and Arlene relaxed minutely. She glanced over at the Vice Admiral.

“And our package?” Arlene questioned.

“Safely onboard,” the technician said.

The Vice Admiral let out a huff, the only sign she’d even heard the technician, as she turned sharply on heel.

“Ma’am?” Arlene quickly fell into step with the older woman.

“Send word to route Lavernius to my office,” the Vice Admiral said stiffly. “Then, once docking procedures are finished, continue with our headway.”

“Ma’am,” Arlene nodded and branched away. She shared a quick glance with the ships AI who watched the Vice Admiral leave the bridge, before Arlene made a quick gesture for him to relay the Vice Admiral’s commands.

“Frightening woman,” Deckard said carefully as he manipulated the ships systems.

“At least you rarely talk to her,” Arlene said tiredly. “I don’t even want to fathom what a Project Freelancer Private did to get on her list.”

“I’d imagine being born would suffice plenty,” Deckard mused, and then vanished just in time for Arlene’s hand to swipe through his hologram. “Really, Captain Volt? I am nothing more than a hologram projection, you know.”

Arlene grumbled. “Makes me fucking feel better.” Arlene settled in front of the large map that took up a good portion of the bridge. “This is our last unexpected stop, right?”

“Correct,” Deckard reappeared in front of the map. “After this we should have a fairly straightforward trip back into Earth’s space.”

“We won’t need to anticipate some sort of reaction from Project Freelancer for poaching one of their military fodder?” Arlene questioned. Deckard shrugged his shoulders.

“It seemed rather like Project Freelancer was all too happy to hand over Private Tucker,” Deckard said. “No projected issues on that front.”

“That…is not a ringing endorsement,” Arlene sighed. “Suddenly I’m far more worried about this Private then I was five minutes ago.”

Deckard flickered out of view and reappeared in view a second later. “I ran through the records. Private Tucker is a flirt, but relatively harmless. Surprisingly bright. With these tests scores he could’ve easily received an officer rank within the UNSC Navy, maybe even fast-tracked to FLEETCOM. Hm, wonder why he got relegated to Freelancer military?”

“Who knows?” Arlene shrugged. “Maybe he has a cognitive defect.”

“That would be in his medical file,” Deckard pointed out.

“Whatever the reason,” Arlene turned around and stared back out into space with a frown, “this Private is nothing but trouble. That’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Deckard flickered away. “So you say, Captain.” A soft alarm rang throughout the entire ship for all of a hot second, followed by the announcement that the ship would be entering slip space within five minutes.

Arlene pressed her lips together. “Definitely trouble,” she grumbled. Arlene did not look forward to Private Lavernius Tucker being aboard the Viper’s Nest—not one bit.

[kingofthebottleshooters]

Carve Their Name With Pride

Written for @cactuarkitty‘s MERweek. It’s one of a few one-shot ideas I’ve had for a while, so this was a good opportunity to get it written. It’s set in the aftermath of the attack on the Citadel by Cerberus in ME3, and revolves around the tragically short relationship between Shepard and Thane. It was also largely written between 3am and 5am while I was watching the UK election results, so bear that in mind when reading!

Garrus lay on the med-bay bed, talons drumming against the covers, the only sign of his impatience. Dr Chakwas had patched him up pretty well, but she was adamant that he wasn’t going anywhere without her permission, and it was grating on him. He didn’t need to be there anymore, and there was too much that needed doing. Not on the Normandy, for a change, given that all the fighting had been ground side, or what passed for it on the Citadel, but the clean-up had been bad enough after Sovereign; he shuddered to think what it would be like after Cerberus had attacked the entire station. At least with the geth, most of the damage had been collateral.

Shaking his head to try and get rid of that dark thought, his mind drifted to Thane. The Drell had been stabbed by one of Cerberus’s more efficient drones, and last Garrus had heard he was in surgery. It was not a happy situation, but Thane had been through worse even before he joined the Normandy. If anyone could laugh off such an injury, it would be…well, probably not Thane, now he thought of it; for all that he had a dry sense of humour, the assassin treated events with the weight they deserved. He would be calm about it though, Garrus was sure of that much. Perhaps it helped having Shepard there to worry about things for him, took the pressure off somewhat.

The med-bay doors swished open. Garrus turned his head a little, and let out a theatrical groan.

“Spirits, who let you in?”

“Heard there was someone crying like a baby over some chicken-shit scratches,” Vega said with a broad grin. “You know anything about that?”

“I’m here purely on medical advice,” Garrus replied shortly. Vega smirked, but said nothing. He was intimately familiar with rule one of military service: don’t piss off the doctors.

“Any word on how long we’re sticking around? I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to help with clean-up, but I’d have thought Shepard would have better things to do.”

“Haven’t heard anything specific, but it’ll be a couple of days, I imagine.” He didn’t explain why. He wasn’t sure if the Alliance knew about Shepard’s relationship with Thane, and if they weren’t it wasn’t his place to say. “The Council’ll probably want to debrief Shepard pretty thoroughly.”

He realised what he’d said as soon as Vega started chuckling, and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m dosed up on painkillers that’d kill you, Jimmy.”

“Whatever you say, Garrus, whatever you say.”

The doors swished open again, and Dr Chakwas strode in, her face troubled. She set about freeing Garrus from the battalion of monitors he was hooked up to before saying so much as ‘hello’. It wasn’t like her, and Garrus shot Vega a worried look before addressing her. “Doctor? Thought I was in the for long haul – not that I’m complaining, of course…

She shook her head. “Ideally yes, but I think you’ll need to be up and about, I’m afraid. I’ve just heard from Dr Michel. Thane didn’t make it.”

Garrus stared at her for a moment, speechless. “He – what?”

“There were too many complications with his Keprals,” she elaborated. “The blade went through his lungs. If it had just been that, or if the wound had been somewhere else…”

Garrus tossed the wires aside, clambering to his feet. “Where is she now? She knows, right?”

Chakwas nodded, her eyes starting to shine a little. “Yes, she…she was there at the end, at least.”

“Sorry, I’m confused,” Vega chipped in, his gaze flitting between them rapidly.

“Thane Krios – he was one of our team against the Collectors,” Garrus said shortly, pulling on his armour. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Chakwas looking at him curiously, but she didn’t say anything.

“Oh, the Drell that Cerberus asshole stabbed? Dios, that sucks. I didn’t know he was a friend of yours. I’m sorry.”

“He…” Garrus trailed off, then sighed. “He wasn’t just a friend to Shepard.”

“Oh.”

He supposed that was all that needed to be said, really.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Garrus and Vega had combed all of Shepard’s usual calling points on the Citadel looking for her, but to no avail. Her comms were off, and Traynor had been unable to track her through the station’s still glitching systems (Garrus suspected EDI would have had better luck, but the AI was busy lending her assistance to C-Sec). Inevitably then, it was when they returned to the Normandy that they found her, talking stiffly with Kaidan Alenko.

Garrus growled a little, unsure whether it was sub-vocal or otherwise, and not really caring either way. He didn’t really have anything against the major – for all that he’d hurt Shepard back on Horizon, it was fairly understandable under the circumstances – but of all the times for him to try and talk to her…

As he and Vega drew near, Kaidan broke out in a wide smile, and hoisted a duffle bag to his shoulder. Shepard nodded at him, then made her way onto the ship, the major falling into her wake like he’d never left. Garrus increased his pace to catch up, and Kaidan looked over his shoulder. His smile was a little wary.

“Garrus, good to see you!”

“Major,” he acknowledged before brushing past him. He reached out and placed a talon on Shepard’s shoulder. “Kate…”

She shrugged him off. “Get Kaidan set up somewhere, will you? I’ll be in my cabin.”

She disappeared into the elevator, leaving the trio gathered awkwardly around it.

“I’ve missed something, haven’t I?” Kaidan said, regret in his voice. Garrus sighed.

“It’s good to have you back, Kaidan, but…this might not have been the best time.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

One day stretched into two, and they should have left the Citadel, but Shepard hadn’t yet left her cabin. It seemed like half the crew had tried to visit her at one point or another, only to be ignored. Dr Chakwas had forced her way in, persuading EDI to override the doors on medical grounds, but she would only say that Shepard needed time. There was no-one aboard who begrudged her that, but Garrus and Kaidan had had a quiet discussion about which of them might have to field the call from Hackett, if it came.

It was in the early hours of the morning, or at least the night shift, when Garrus heard it. He was still awake, tweaking a minute misalignment on his rifle, when the sound of drilling reached him. He cocked his head, startled and curious, then picked up his sidearm before leaving the gunnery. The mess was empty, but the drilling was louder. It stopped as he made his way through the mess, and as he rounded the elevator shaft he heard the doors closing again, and the faint whine of the elevator moving.

There was an addition to the memorial wall.

He approached, reaching out to brush his talons over the rough plate. The other names on the wall were laser-etched, neat and professional. This one screamed of the personal touch. He wasn’t entirely sure that the name hadn’t been carved into the plate with a knife, going by the marks. It was messy, rough, but spoke far more for what the plate meant to someone than the official ones.

It would be the only outward sign of Shepard’s grief, Garrus was sure. She might, eventually, confide in someone, maybe even him, but the crew as a whole would never see her blink. He wasn’t sure that was a good thing. He knew there wasn’t much he could do about it.

“So long, Thane,” he sighed, coming to attention a little sloppily. He was out of practise. “I’ll keep an eye on her for you, as best I can.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Months later, the carved plate gained a twin.

That one was a team effort.

[arirashkae]

Touch Me And You’ll Sink

Main Characters: Lavernius Tucker, Vanessa Kimball

Pairing: Kimball/Tucker

Team: Medic

Square: Temple of Procreation

Rating: M

Warnings: consent issues (mild) of the type common to this trope

Word count: 2600

AO3 Link

“Did Santa say ‘the people of this planet?’” Emily mused over breakfast one morning.

Everyone at the table stopped, utensils in various stages of eating. “What do you mean?” Wash asked.

She shook herself, as if she hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. “Oh! I was wondering if the Temple of Procreation could help get our livestock and wildlife to hurry up and breed! The poor things that are left have just been so stressed by everything that their cycles are all out of whack. And I don’t know about you but –” she gestured to her plate “–I’m awfully tired of fish.”

The “Heroes of Chorus” all looked to each other. Simmons looked up, trying to remember. “He said, ‘send the inhabitants of the planet into a sexual frenzy,’” he recited.

“Well, then! We just have to ask!” Emily’s tone turned chipper at the prospect of a meal consisting of anything other than plant protein and seafood. There were scout groups constantly on the lookout for stable hunting and foraging grounds, until they got their farms up and running again, but not much of their wild or domestic stocks had survived the war as food proved more and more scarce. “If there’s a way to dial in the Temple’s effects to certain animals, it would be very useful!”

Tucker shrugged. “Fuck, I’m game. No offense to the cooks, but if I never see another piece of seaweed on my plate, I’ll die happy.”

“Yeah, it’s been a long time since I had a nice, hot hunk of beef laid out in front of me!” Donut added.

Everyone just groaned and resumed eating.

Three days later, Tucker and Kimball were standing before the Temple of Procreation, staring up.

And up.

And up.

“I swear to God, if you make any size comparisons or compensation jokes,” Kimball said pleasantly, “I will kill you and take the Key for myself.”

“Right, no jokes about alien insecurities. Got it.” Tucker skipped back with a laugh when she glared at him.

She sighed and shook her head. “Let’s just find out if this will work.”

“And that’s my cue.” Tucker pulled the hilt off his thigh and, with a sharp flick of his wrist, sent the twin streams of plasma out as if cracked from a whip.

It had taken him days of practicing (and maybe there were a few walls with new holes in them), but he was pretty proud of the maneuver. After all, if you were going to be activating the Temples that were going to save the world, you had to do it with style.

From the set of Kimball’s shoulders, she wasn’t all that impressed. Her loss. She was the one who decided to be his babysitter, after all.

Somehow, word had spread that Tucker was going to try to get the Temple to increase all the meat stocks. “Somehow,” indeed. Gossip was the only thing in the Universe that didn’t need slipspace to move faster than light. By the time breakfast was over, the whole army knew. Tucker had already hit the Temple of Bountiful Harvest last month, and the first crops were coming in nicely, but almost everyone was long past sick of only having only fish and vegetables.

(The medical team was thrilled that everyone was finally getting the proper amount of minerals and fiber, but even they were eager for something different.)

Everyone – except Tucker but they were ignoring him – had agreed that until they knew where Locus had fucked off to, Tucker wasn’t to go out alone. So he had at least one escort no matter how simple the job seemed. (He wasn’t sure if being saddled with Sarge or Palomo had been worst.)

Kimball had declared she was going with him this time. She said that she should be present, since ultimately the decision was her responsibility, whether it worked or not.

Privately, Tucker thought she was jumping at an excuse to get away from the migraines peace had brought. Running an army fighting for survival was very different from trying to build a peaceful, functioning society out of what Charon had left them.

(There was also the nice little fantasy that she had wanted to be with him, just in case they screwed up and the Temple pollened everyone. He didn’t dare mention it – he still remembered her threat by the lake – but it was a fun idea.)

“Lavernius Tucker.”

The alien AI materialized in front of them. Tucker sketched a salute with the Key. “Hey, Santa.”

He could hear Kimball roll her eyes behind him.

“Are you here to activate the Temple of Procreation?”

“Yeah … about that.” Tucker looked back at Kimball, but she just folded her arms and nodded for him to continue. Great. No pressure.

He cleared his throat. “This … whatever this thing does. Does it only work on people? Or will all the animals all start fucking like they’re bunnies?”

Santa tilted his head. “My creators built this Temple should they ever need to supplement a failing population. However, the field was tuned for them, and will need to be recalibrated for humans.”

“So it can be changed. Good.” Kimball finally stepped forward. “We want to target our livestock. We need them breeding as soon as possible.”

The AI shifted his focus to her. “You are not concerned about how your own numbers have diminished?”

“Humans tend to have notions about consent,” she responded drily. “And most of the people left are young enough that they’ll manage just fine on their own.”

“Yeah, we just want to kickstart the animals so we can get something other than fish sometime before the next ship decides to show up,” Tucker added. “So, uh, how do we do this?”

“The controls are within the center of the Temple. You can adjust the field’s target from there.”

“Great! Let’s get this show on the road!”

Several hours and a few false starts later (and there was definitely not a moment where Tucker almost activated the Temple to affect only humans, and he would swear to that to his grave) they had managed to dial it to anything warm-blooded that wasn’t human. They’d tried to get it more precise than that, so they wouldn’t have to listen to Grif freak out over an explosion of bats, but that was they best they could manage.

Whatever. Simmons freaking out over snakes would have been way worse, and Tucker definitely didn’t want spiders and bugs crawling out of the walls. Grif would just have to deal.

“Goodbye, fish and hello, stea and chicken cordon bleu!” Tucker crowed, stabbing the Key through the glowing symbol in front of him.

“Tucker–”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He waved his free hand at Kimball, as the light started pulsing softly. “It’s going to be months before any of them are old enough to eat. Let a man dream, okay?” She huffed a laugh, but didn’t argue.

The Temple started humming in time with the pulsing of the light. The light grew brighter and brighter in time with the sound’s rise in pitch and volume. Just as both sensations became almost painful, the light burst and shot through the walls – and preseumably beyond. In the silence that followed, the sahdows were almost eerie.

“Did we do it?” Kimball asked softly.

“We did something.” Tucker couldn’t resist adding,” Do you feel like jumping my bones?” Even through the helmets, he could see the flat glare she leveled on him. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Good call,” she said. “Let’s head back to the Pelican and report in.”

Ten feet outside the Temple doors, Tucker realized the swooping sensation in his gut wasn’t nerves.

“Um, Kimball?” He swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the cottony feeling in his mouth and throat. “I … I think I forgot about something.”

She looked back. “What could you possib–” She stopped when she saw him leaning heavily against one of the pillars. “Tucker.”

“Don’t!” He held up one hand, stopping her from coming any closer. “I, uh, I don’t think –” the laugh he let out was high-pitched and a little hysterical “– I don’t think I count as fully human. Not after Junior.”

“If this is some kind of joke,” she growled.

“Gee, thanks, Vanessa,” he snapped. God, it was getting hard to breathe. “When have you heard me not take ‘Go to hell,’ for an answer?”

She was quiet for a moment. He could change that. No. Bad Tucker. Think unsexy thoughts. Think of Sarge and his crazy killer robot. Think of Caboose trying to cook. Think of Felix stabbing him.

Shit, now he wanted “we survived!” sex.

His HUD pinged to tell him she was accessing his vitals. Good. Now she could see just how fucking hot he was. Bow-chicka-

No!

He almost didn’t hear her approach over his panting. “I’m sorry, Tucker. You’re right.” She laid a hand on his shoulder, and he curled his own into fists before he grabbed her. “You stay here. I’m going to talk to Santa.”

He whined a little when she pulled away. Fuckberries, he should have remembered about that whole “alien chimera” thing. It had just never been an issue before.

He focused on breathing slowly. Kimball had told him to stay put. He could do that. Just had to breathe. Had to–

The jungle air should not have felt that cool against his skin. He dropped his helmet and slid down the pillar until his back was pressed against it. The temptation to pull all his armor off and start jerking off right then was almost overwhelming. Tucker rested his head back against the pillar, fisting his hands in the moss. He’d rather they were fis–

“Dammit!” He threw his head back, slamming it against the pillar. The pain distracted him momentarily, so he did it again. Maybe if he knocked himself out, this bullshit would wear off before he woke up. So he did it again.

Or, he tried to. There was a hand cradling the back of his head. Tucker pried open his eyes.

Kimball studied him, her head cocked to one side. “Are you trying to give yourself a concussion?”

God, her fingers felt good in his hair. Tucker didn’t realize he was leaning into her grip until he was almost nuzzling her wrist. “Thought I could sleep it off,” he mumbled, closing his eyes again.

Kimball’s hand tightened in his hair when he tried to pull away, dragging a whimper from his throat. “Sleeping for a week is usually Grif’s thing.”

“A week?” His eyes flew back open.

“I’m kidding. It should wear off by tomorrow.” Tucker whimpered again as she finally pulled her hand back.

“Fucking hell.” He dropped his head back, gently this time; she probably wouldn’t let him off with just a spanking if he hurt himself. That image had him screwing his eyes shut and smothering a groan. “The gang is never going to let me live this down. Wash is never going to let me live this down. And Church…”

Thoughts of Epsilon and his bullshit attempt at a “heroic sacrifice” distracted Tucker for a few moments. Wash had been so furious he’d refused to acknowledge the AI’s existence for a week. Training with the two Freelancers had been awkward as hell until Wash and Church finally had it out.

Tucker didn’t know what they’d shrieked at each other, but apparently they’d lanced something between them. Now when they weren’t pissed at each other, they were two peas in a pod. The two of them would just bounce off each other and never let him forget this.

Kimball grabbed his hand and dragged him to his feet. “We still need to report in. And you need to stay where I can keep an eye on you.”

“So you like to wa– dammit!” He grabbed his hair and pulled sharply. “Sorry! Just– KImball. Vanessa. I can’t– I don’t–” He whimpered again, swaying on his feet.

He didn’t know what showed on his face, but her whole demeanor changed as she straightened from retrieving his helmet. “Tucker. Pelican. Now.”

The steel in her tone sent a shiver down his spine.

He didn’t pay much attention to Kimball phoning home from the pilot’s seat; too much of his focus was needed to just to lean on the ohshit bars and not strip off everything. He’d managed to catch an “I haven’t shot or strangled him yet,” and he wanted to keep it that way.

Fuck, he hoped she hadn’t told him how stupid he’d been.

“I told Base we’re going to stay here for a few hours, in case there are side effects and we need to reverse everything. And yes, I know we can’t, but they don’t. At least not yet.”

Tucker giggled hysterically again. “S-s-side ef-ef-fects,” he hiccuped. “That’s one way to put it.” He dropped to the floor and laid his head on the seat. “Howzzit goin’ back there?”

Kimball crouched down next to him. “Dr. Grey says the field targeted all the animals we hoped it would. The chickens are apparently the funniest to watch.” She brushed his hair back, and he didn’t bother trying not to nuzzle her hand before it pulled away this time. “And she inadvertently confirmed what Santa said to me; it wears off faster …” she took a deep breath, “… if you stop trying to fight it.”

The words made sense, individually, but combined … Tucker stared at her blankly.

“I’m saying we can get this out of your system before we have to leave,” she huffed, looking down and to the side a bit. “I said anything that went wrong would be my responsibility and …”

Tucker couldn’t help it; he started laughing so hard he had to curl up on the floor to make the pain stop. “D-d-d-did you j-j-just offer to f-f-f-fuck me to s-s-s-s-save my rep?” His brain and his dick were conspiring to show him – in vivid detail – how that would go, so he just curled even tighter, dragging his thoughts out of the gutter. He was only marginally successful.

“I could just leave you here, you know,” she snapped. Kimball pulled her helmet off to look him in the eye. The flush on her cheeks could be embarrassment or anger; either way, it looked good on her. “You know half the team, if not all of them, would pile into the Pelican to come get you. I’m sure that would work out so well.”

The problem with a good imagination was it tended to offer up the horrible situations as easily as the fun ones. Picturing that helped cut through the fog a little. “You don’t have to–”

“I know I don’t. This isn’t permanent, the only damage would be to your ego, and frankly you could stand to have that punctured a bit. But I knew you had an alien son. It’s just as much my fault for not asking if that would make a difference. So I’m offering to help fix this.”

Tucker looked up at her, eyes roving over her … well, everything. Slowly, he nodded.

Tucker buckled himself into the co-pilot’s seat. “Hey, Kimball?”

She glanced up from her pre-flight checks. Their helmets and armor were back in place, but they weren’t enough to hide the tension in her shoulders. “What?”

“Just … thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Literally. Ever.”

Tucker snorted. “No worries. I remember where the lake is.”

It was quiet, but Kimball’s laugh was nice.

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Keeper of the Grove (Part 10)

Winter was curled up in a tiny, shivering ball on the backseat of the cab, her Eluna plushie nestled right up to her face. The rest of the toys she had on her were arranged around her body like a wall, or sitting on top of her like sentries. For lack of space to fit all of them, Weiss sat on the front-side seats, spun around to face her sister.

The special edition Keeper of the Grove plushie—the one with much more intricate detailing and real, malevolently glowing rubies for eyes—was in the trunk, back in its box, face and lid down. They could swear they could feel her evil stare boring through Tony's hull, the authentic leather seats, and into their souls, but neither commented on it.

On the shelf behind Weiss' head was Tony, his face turned outside to the city skyline outside, talking as he drove.

“This is why I don't like big businesses,” he grumbled. “Back then in the old days, you walked into a store, everyone in the place knew you by your first name, and you knew theirs, too! I mean, sure, corporations have changed the world for the better, and I'm just an AI talking based on subjective experiences, and personality parameters and memories encoded into me, but still! You gotta ask:

“Is it all really worth HUGE slip-ups like this happenin'?”

When the sisters didn't respond, Tony looked back at them. “Hey, you two been awfully quiet—everythin' alright back there?”

“Just peachy!” Winter replied. “So long as I've got Eluna with me, everything's going to be just fine, because when the Keeper breaks out of the trunk and comes to get us, she's going to come to life, use her Starlight Spear, and save us all~!”

She laughed, then cried, then buried her face into her plushie once more.

Tony and Weiss looked at each other as her muffled sobbing filled the cab.

He turned back to Winter, his projector generating a holographic arm to rest on the top of the front seats. “Look, Winter, I'm a firm believer in face your fears and all that jazz, but isn't it a little, I don't know, too much to be haulin' your nightmares around with you like this?”

Winter pulled her face out of the Eluna plushie. “I prefer it this way,” she sobbed. “I'd rather a constant reminder that the Keeper is always just around the corner than being surprised like that ever again,” she continued, before she buried her face into her toy once more.

“Oh Ellie, your fur is so soft, and warm, and fluffy… and so good at absorbing my tears and snot, too!”

Tony looked at Weiss, unamused. “Okay, something is definitely up! And don't you lie to me, little ladies—I've known you both since you two were just bumps in your mama's belly! Plus, the bio-sensors in this cab just got updated!”

Weiss tried to remain silent, but Tony's incessant staring broke her down. “The Keeper's after us...” she mumbled.

Tony grimaced. “And I guess it ain't the doll in my trunk, huh?”

Weiss shook her head.

“Aw, phooey!” Tony snapped as he turned back to the skyline. “I wish they never got rid of those lines of code that let me talk bad about people...”

“Cursing my father isn't going to change anything,” Weiss muttered. “Believe me, I've tried plenty of times...”

“It'd make me feel a whole lot better, though!” Tony replied.

They were reaching the loading bay closest to Manor Schnee once more, and the cab slowed down.

Tony sighed, and looked back at the sisters. “Look… girls, if'n the next time I see you two is in the news about how the Keeper got you… you two have been some of the best damn passengers I've ever had, alright? Even if your old man keeps trying to lobby me outta the personality roster...”

Weiss looked down as her eyes moistened, Winter burst into another round of tears.

“We love you too, Tony,” Weiss muttered as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

Tony's hologram shimmered and broke. “Go on, get on outta here, you two!” he sobbed. “You enjoy however much time you got left here! Oh, and say hi to your mama for me—your fratellino, too, if he ain't already someone else's kid.”

“We will, Tony,” Winter blubbered. “We will.”

Eluna remained in Winter's arms, and the Keeper stayed in her box for the ride home, the latter suspended in a stasis field on the dashboard. Both sisters couldn't help but flinch every time the rover hit a particularly bumpy patch of road, and the container jostled about slightly until the stabilizers kicked in.

They made it back into the garage a little before sunrise. The missing rovers and the jet were all back, but there were more drones than ever flying about and a suspicious absence of human or cyborg personnel, even for there.

“Good morning, Mses. Schnee!” a drone greeted them as they stepped back out of the rover. “Ms. Winter Schnee, you have an extremely large shipment from The Plushie Palace awaiting teleport confirmation. We regret to inform you that it cannot be handled by human staff due to a large number of absences, but a more than adequate amount of cargo lifters and worker drones have been prepared in their stead!

“How should we proceed?” the drone asked.

“Confirm the teleport, take the ones from the rover, and bring them all to my room,” Winter replied flatly as she walked past, Eluna under one arm and the Keeper in its box under the other. “Keep them in their crates, I'll handle the unpacking and organizing myself; I need a long, time-consuming distraction right now...”

The drone beeped, humming as it followed them it beeped with a different noise. “Teleport successful! Would the Mses. Schnee like breakfast? However, we also regret to inform you that your father, Mr. Schnee, is unable to join for sudden, important business.”

“No thank you, we're not hungry,” Weiss replied as she followed after Winter.

“Response logged—have a nice day, Mses. Schnee!” the drone chirped happily.

As Winter and Weiss stepped back onto the elevator, they remembered just why exactly human personnel were still a popular hiring decision many managers insisted on, in spite of the low costs and ease of acquiring AI drones that could do the same job.

They stepped out of the elevator and back into the halls of Manor Schnee, bright and flooded with warm sunlight.

The healthy glow only made the lack of people all the more stark and ominous, the cheerfulness of the bots' voice modules more unnerving than pleasant. It didn't help that the remaining human staff were either nervous and wary, couldn't care less as they went about their duties, or were chipper and happy, wondering out loud on why exactly everyone else passed on the generous sums Jacques Schnee had boosted their salaries to.

Winter and Weiss met with a train of cargo lifters and worker drones just heading out from her room, one of them reminding her that she could summon them at any time, especially since they had to leave several of the crates them stacked outside her door lest her bedroom become a crowded storeroom.

“You really sure you want to tackle this all by yourself?” Weiss asked as she and Winter stepped back into her room.

“I'll manage,” Winter replied, skirting around the perfectly stacked and balanced towers to her bed. “I've been trained for and handled much more complex logistical problems in even worse conditions.

“Though all that's going to be after I sleep the day away again, with the Moonlight Huntress herself watching over me!” She looked affectionately at the Eluna plushie still nestled in her arm. “But first, I need to decide what to do with her...” she muttered, looking at the boxed Keeper in her other arm.

“Ugh—just throw it away!” Weiss cried as she sat on the side of Winter's bed and took her shoes off. “That thing's just going to give the both of us nightmares, Eluna or no.”

Winter nodded as she carefully set Eluna down on her bed. “Right… might as well have some sweet dreams while we still can,” she muttered as she opened the box.

Unlike earlier, she didn't scream, accidentally throw it into an unfortunate victim's face so hard that it made their nose bleed, before falling to the sidewalk wailing hysterically whilst clutching her Eluna plushie, but she still flinched and felt a chill run down her spine.

Not helping was the morning sun making the ruby eyes of the Keeper plushie glow even brighter and more menacingly than they did at night and under artificial lights.

Winter pulled her out, throwing the box to the side. “Not sorry to say I'm not going to miss you in the slightest,” she growled to her face, before she threw the plushie right out the open door of her balcony.

She turned to watch it sail over the railing, then disappear to the floating gardens below.

Instead, she saw it stop in mid-air, invisible hands turn the toy around to face their owner.

“Oh hey! I never knew they made Keeper dolls that looked like this!” a too familiar voice said. “Oooh, man, these eyes are SO much cooler than the buttons...” the Keeper plushie was lowered, the actual Keeper gasped. “Oh Eluna! Is that an actual, limited edition Eluna plushie?”

Weiss and Winter felt their blood run cold as the plushie moved into the room, and stopped at the foot of Winter's bed, just between the two sisters. “Ooohh… these are SO rare, I never thought I'd be able to see one of them up close!”

The voice paused.

“Why does it smell like tears, snot, and despair…?”

Winter blinked. “Can you please hand me my Eluna plushie?”

The Keeper toy was put down on the bed, and the Eluna plushie floated over to Winter. “Here you go!”

Winter took it and nodded. “Thank you.”

She began to make a long, continuous noise, starting as a quiet whine, gradually growing louder and louder to a wail of pure anguish, occasionally broken by hysterical sobbing.

Weiss felt the Keeper wince. “… Uh… she scared of me, too?”

“To put it lightly...” Weiss replied flatly.

Winter let out another wail of distress. “Could you please not just talk like that while you're invisible? It's freaking me out even more than you already are!”

“Oh, okay”--the Keeper plushie was picked up once more, the toy's face turned to Winter--”how about this?”

Winter started crying even harder. “No! It's even worse now!”

“What if I move the head around while I'm talking, like this?” the Keeper asked, doing just that.

“Nope! No! No, no, no, no, no, nooooo... you know what? You just tell us whatever it is you were going to tell us, just let me curl up on the floor,” Winter blubbered.

The Keeper politely kept quiet while she did.

“Okay!” Winter sobbed, as she hugged the Eluna plushie to her chest, “you can talk now!”

The Keeper plushie “nodded.” “Alright! First up: your security still really sucks, especially now that all the cyborg and human guards are gone.

“Second: we're getting a LOT of comms-chatter and seeing a lot of recruitment advertisements on the Grid for more expeditions into the Valley, which also really sucks.

“And third: I was prepared this time and had dinner before I left home, but do you have any food on you? I didn't think you were going to be gone all night this time, and now I missed breakfast...”

Silence.

“It's okay if you don't have any!” the Keeper added. “I'll manage.”

Winter whimpered.

Weiss groaned. “Okay, first of all: how are you able to listen to our networks and access the Grid?”

“Uhh… with the terminal I have back at the Valley?” the Keeper replied. “We're a lot more advanced than mud huts and spears, you know. Well, actually we still do technically have mud huts and spears, but they've got Grid access, power, and HoloVision, just like you guys.”

Winter made a little choked dying noise. “Sorry,” she whispered, “please, continue.”

Weiss stared at the Keeper plushie, unsure of how to react. “… Second: we both tried to talk to my father, but he refuses to believe you exist, or that the threat you're making is very real.”

The Keeper sighed. “Ugh, yeah, I noticed! I broke into his office earlier last night, and he wouldn't believe I was actually there, just kept calling me a 'stress-induced hallucination' or something. I even pulled the hood of my cloak to show him my face, but he just threw a paperweight at me and thought I was one of your drones when I yelled 'Ow!'”

Winter balked. “Father SURVIVED looking at your face...?”

“I didn't have the mask on at the time,” the Keeper said, pointing at the skull-like face of her plushie self. “It makes actually talking to people really hard, you know? Have you ever tried to talk to someone who just peed and popped himself? It's pretty much impossible, not to mention really, really gross...”

Both sisters just stared at the Keeper plushie.

“Anyway, could you keep trying to find some way to get him to stop all these expeditions? Even if we see just one rover heading over to the Valley, there's going to be--”

“CONSEQUENCES.”

The Keeper coughed and cleared her throat. “Sorry, had to use my Scary Voice for that... kind of an unspoken rule amongst Keepers…”

Silence.

“… Soooo… I'm just going to go now...” the Keeper started to place the plushie of herself back on the bed.

Winter yelped, the plushie stopped in mid-air. “Keep it!” she blubbered, tears streaming down her face, “so at least I know where you are when you come to visit!”

“You sure?” the Keeper asked, holding the plushie out to Winter, its ruby red eyes looming ominously over her, glinting from the sunlight.

Her eyes widened.

As a special, limited edition Keeper of the Grove plushie and a hysterically screaming Winter zipped through the halls of the manor, leaving a trail of spooked humans and malfunctioning drones in its wake, so hastened the Ruin of the family Schnee.