#can you like poke him and then run behind ais

[redstrewn]

I wonder if theres a way to make leanders life harder when on the ais route aside from simply getting with ais

[6okuto]

Listen… you said we could ask for more hcs pt.2…………………….

RAAAAAAAAAAH

Ais? PLS? YOUR WRITIJG IS SO GOOD I THINK ABOUT IT ALL THE TIME

AIS HCS (2)

gn!reader | (part 1) anon you GET ME! BUAAAAHHH AND OMGG THANK U... that's so crazy actually i hope u guys think about me today i will b thinking about all of u😙🫶🧡 YIPPEE!

so stupid /affectionate. takes photos of you and says "now a silly one." or starts taking selfies without telling you

will do cheesy romantic things with you because you ask. he can tease you all he wants, and he wonders how he's found himself swaying to a song with you in the kitchen,, but then you hold him a little tighter and he's like ah. that's why

tells you to be careful with his horns. not in a they're sensitive way but in a please do not get in a position where he could poke your eye out way. rest your chin in between them if you want though

asks you to pay for lunch. when it's actually time to pay he's like "what the hell are they doing over there?" so he can pay first. you guys fight to pay semi-regularly. You are the people who made me want to scream and cry when i worked retail.

do his make-up. i dare you. what. you don't want to stand in between his legs with his hands on your hips while you try to do eyeliner Be serious. he'll be your test subject for new looks

or let him do your make-up. you can match w some red eyeliner :)

doesn't do any little video trends with you without being a little annoying/difficult but he Will do them and do them extremely well in the end. everyone's jealous of your relationship

if you're having trouble sleeping and try to not move around a lot in case you wake ais up,, it's too late. bro is awake. he sighs and nuzzles into you before being like,, "if you can't sleep, you can wake me up you know." or "how long were you going to go before waking me up?"

^ late night snack runs.. he'll stay up as long as you do. hanging out in a mcdonalds parking lot at 2am eating chicken nuggets who gets me

pulls your head to lay on his shoulder if he sees you getting sleepy. rests his head on top of yours

silently comes and lies down with you if he's in a bad mood. you don't have to talk or really do anything, just being around you helps him feel better. he won't complain if you coddle him a little though :) you offer to get him some snacks or cuddle him and he smiles against your skin. "i'm starting to think you have a crush on me or something." you roll your eyes and flick his forehead but he just lets out a breathy laugh. "yes please."

cannot fucking play horror games/movies around this guy like why are YOU jumpscaring me Where is my safe space. he relishes in you clinging onto him / holding you from behind, but he also respects you scaring him back if you're more immune to horror

don't start a prank war with this guy because that shit isn't ending. he excels in annoyingly inconvenient pranks Don't Do It.

tells you about the dogs(/animals) he saw while out during the day. modern au he sends you pics either wordlessly or guessing their names. "meet nacho cheese" "why would u say that" "that's obviously his name? have some respect"

ohh. people watching...this sounds silly. but like i'm thinking about how he doesn't like being lonely/isolated but Is and how he has to watch others enjoy themselves and stuff. so you hanging out together and talking and guessing random people's life stories is just like. a casual thing but reminds him He Has Somebody to do that with now

why'd i say that

you know how he was in the rafters at the beginning. yeah he's asking if you wanna join him up there. you're like You do that Regularly? not just trying to intimidate me? and he's like 🤷‍♂️ it's comfortable enough.

promises he won't let you fall and keeps a steady hold. See? it isn't so bad.

modern au tattoo artist ais who gets me. anyone. anybody. helloooo? guys please i'm gonna pee my pants

🏷 | @lost-lonnie @screaming-wea-sel @dreamtydraw @respitable @semifilms @hexcoeur

[kill-the-feels]

Aliit

a/n: hey y’all! Here’s the final part — the epilogue to Jango’s story!! Thank you to everyone who’s stuck with this from day one. All your comments and likes and reblogs truly make my heart happy. Enjoy!! <3 (previous part) (masterlist)

word count: ~2.5k

warnings: none! Just lots and lots of fluff and implied spicy content and reference to past injuries (very mild/vague)

Building a house takes a surprisingly short amount of time. It isn’t big; just large enough for the four of you to comfortably inhabit. You make short trips to the nearby settlements, bartering for odds and ends that make the house more comfortable, slowly but surely putting down roots by the sea.

You and Jango lay in bed, the sun slanting through the curtains, the shushing of the ocean drifting in through the open windows, the breeze bringing the scent of salt and earth.

The two of you have been awake for the past few minutes, both of you too lazy to get up out of bed.

The giggling outside your door gets louder. Jango reaches over and snags your pillow out from under your head, stuffing it over his face.

“Sounds like we’re about to have guests,” he mutters.

“Hey!” you protest quietly, right before the door pops open and Boba and Jate enter softly. Boba has something behind his back, something living, judging by the way Jate keeps reaching up to help him hold it.

Unceremoniously, he dumps a loth-cat on the bed, the poor creature freezing in fear, torn between running over you or trying to sneak past Boba.

“Boba,” you say, jumping back, taking half the covers with you. The cat hisses, its ears flattening against its head.

“Can we keep it?” he whispers, mistakenly thinking Jango — who hasn’t moved — is still fast asleep.

“Can you- no! It’s a living creature. You’re not keeping it.” He and Jate give you twin pouts, Jate reaching to pet the cat. To your surprise, it purrs and curls into a ball at her touch, settling. Boba looks pleased.

“You just told us we needed to find something to do. About how we should do something productive with our time. Buir, getting a pet will give us that.” it’s hard to argue when he throws your own word back at you. You look between the both of them. Jango is no help, but you can feel the way his side twitches slightly in laughter.

Fine. You’ll show him.

“You promise you’ll take care of it? Promise that I am not going to be the one cleaning up after it?” Both of them nod vigorously. You bite your lip, the only way you can contain your laugh.

“Okay. We can keep the cat.” Boba cheers quietly, snatching the poor creature back up, and the three of them are gone in a rush of giggles, the door swinging shut behind them.

“They get it from you, y’know,” Jango says under the pillow, and you snatch it off his head. He retaliates by reclaiming his share of the covers.

He’s laying on his back, eyes still closed, mouth tilted up in an easy smile.

“Get what?” you poke his ribs gently and he jerks away with a grunt, eyes finally opening. A recent discovery? Jango is ticklish.

“Taking in strays.” You raise an eyebrow. It’s rich coming from him. Jango, who specifically asked for a son, instead of credits, who plucked you up because he couldn’t leave you, who Jate currently has wrapped around her little finger.

As if he wasn’t the one to go over how to clean and shoot a blaster with Jate over and over, until she could do it nearly as well as him, or he wasn’t the one to find a needle and thread to stitch up a tear in Ai-Ai’s tail after the two of them went to bed, or he wasn’t the one to sit in the field for an extra hour, pretending to fix the equipment as he posed for Boba and Jate to draw him, instead of finishing tilling the ground like he wanted to.

But you’re the pushover.

“Please,” you say, poking him again. This time he catches your hand, holding it to his chest, over his heart. With a huff, he rolls over, pinning you to the bed underneath him. You grunt, trying to shove him off, and in response, his hand falls to your side, tickling.

You snort out a laugh, head falling back into a patch of sunlight.

“You know that damn cat is going to become a hassle,” he says, easing up a little, so he can slip his legs in between yours.

“You didn’t see their faces. They clearly- oh!” The last part of your speech is cut off when Jango shifts forward purposely, pressing up against you in the best way.

“Clearly what?” he whispers, not taking mercy on you. You clear your throat, intent on giving as good as you get.

“Clearly were excited for it.” You tighten your grip on his waist with your hips, pushing him over, so you’re on top. He lets you, hand coming to a rest on your hip.

Now, some months past that fateful day, he’s almost completely healed.

His lungs still give him problems sometimes, coughing fits that double him over, leaving you feeling helpless as you cradle him and stroke his back, coaxing him through it.

The scar on his neck has faded, the jagged edges pink. And if his missing hand bothers him, he never says, and he more than makes up for his loss, sometimes more competent than you with both hands.

“You just couldn’t say no to their faces,” he says, stealing a kiss before you can refute his argument.

“Neither could you,” you murmur. “Which is why you put the pillow on your head.”

He tightens his grip around you, pulling the two of you into a sitting position, so you’re sprawled across his lap.

You can feel him press against your center and you bite your lip, trying not to moan as his lips move to a spot just beneath your ear, pressing a final kiss there before moving to your lips.

It starts out lazy, and impossibly, achingly gentle as he simply presses his lips to yours, the two of you just enjoying the contact. But you want more and you’re hungry for it, so you twist your hips, grinding against him, eliciting a perfect, choked groan against your mouth. And then you’re kissing him deeply, practically licking into his mouth as your hands hold the side of his face.

He pulls away from the kiss just slightly, and you bite his bottom lip as he goes, thighs clenching just slightly at the way his own grip tightens on you. His hand, which has wandered all over your body, tightens over your ass and then your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

You can’t quite contain the breathy moan when your chest makes contact with his, and you feel more than hear the low growl he makes in response. Your breaths are coming out as pants now, and with every gasp, your increasingly sensitive nipples brush against the fabric of your shirt and his chest.

“Fuck,” he hisses, dragging his mouth away from yours. Laughter echoes in through the window, followed by a loud meow.

“Got-gotta get up,” he murmurs, even as he pulls you in for another kiss. “Got stuff to do.” You roll against him.

“Just stay,” you say. “It’ll keep.” He kisses down your neck.

“Mhm. Maybe. But it’s important. Remember?” You do, actually. Have been looking forward to it for almost a week now.

Today, you and Jango are making it official. Even though technically, you’ve been together for years, today, he’s really giving you his name.

It takes your breath away.

“Later,” he promises you, giving you one more searing kiss before he stands. You don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you laying in the bed, eyes drinking up the way the patches of sunlight highlight your body, before he finally forces himself out the door to get ready for the day.

You follow soon after, finding Jate and Boba playing with the cat under the kitchen table.

Jate still doesn’t talk, but none of you mind. After all, Jango himself can go through phases where he uses little words, and you and Boba are perfectly fine being the only two talkers — it’s what you’re used to, after all. The four of you have come up with signs and motions that allow you all to understand each other without words anyways.

She’s signing at Boba right now, fingers flying furiously as she argues over something he’s said about the cat.

“We’re arguing over a name,” Boba fills you in. “I want to name it something cool like Killer, and she wants to name it something boring, like Seafoam.” You hide your laugh by turning to the cabinets, setting about making something to eat for everyone. Days of overly bland Kaminoan foods are long behind you, and if you never have to taste a ration bar again, it’ll be too soon. ~~~ The house you’ve built is surrounded by fields of crops Jango has been steadily tending to with the help of you, Boba, and Jate.

“Fett,” he confessed one night under a full moon, “means farmer.” It’s something that his ancestors were quite proud of. Now, he uses it to make a living, instead of bounty hunting. Some of the crops are kept for your own food, the others bartered away at the nearby settlements for other necessities.

It’s such a change from your time on Kamino, the unhurried way in which Jango moves, the very air charged with something different, but in a good way. It’s here you’ve learned that while Jango was very good at bounty hunting, it was never his true passion. Rather, just a way to survive.

The Slave I remains parked up behind the house, at the border to the forest where you, Boba, and Jate go sometimes to forage and see what trinkets you can find.

Jango keeps it ready to fly, just in case, but you know his hope is to not need it for years to come. There’s a pounding coming from behind the house, the clanging of durasteel on durasteel. Jango’s been working on something back there for a few weeks now, but you’ve been put under strict orders not to come investigate. Boba and Jate are in on it, all of them sharing little smiles when you ask if you can know the secret yet. ~~~ There’s another Mando’a word Jango taught you the night before, after Boba and Jate were put to bed. The two of you stayed up, staring at the stars. It’s one of your favorite pastimes now, without Kaminoan clouds to hinder you.

“That one looks like a helmet,” Jango’d said, as the two of you tried to make shapes out of them.

“There’s four all in a row,” you’d replied, curving back into his chest while his arms tightened around you.

“An aliit,” Jango said.

Aliit. Clan or family, he explained. A group of people sworn to protect each other.

Today, the four of you are becoming Aliit Fett.

As the sun sinks in late-afternoon, you step outside, the breeze brushing over your skin, a welcome reprieve from the sunny day. It’s nothing like Tatooine here, with the hot, dry air, or Kamino, with the constant dampness and cold.

It’s the perfect middle, a hidden oasis in the midst of a chaotic galaxy.

Jango is waiting down by the ocean, high enough to avoid the tide, with Boba and Jate, one on each side. The loth-cat darts past Boba, and you hear him shout, “Seafoam!” telling you who won that argument. He’s wearing his armor, minus the helmet, as is tradition. The hole’s long since been patched, the piece heated and molded until you can no longer see where it once was.

You take a step towards him, closing the distance.

Ten feet. Seven. Five. Two.

He extends his hand towards you, drawing you into his arms. Your palms land on his chest, the armor warm from the sun, seemingly alive in its own way beneath you.

“Hi,” you say, and he doesn’t even try to stop the small smile that tilts up the corner of his lips, the secret look in his eyes, the one he reserves for you alone. In the setting sun, this close, you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the few freckles on his nose.

“Hi,” he responds.

Mandalorians, he explained the night before, don’t have marriages in the traditional sense. Instead, they promise to become one, two sides of the same blade, preparing for the future.

He told you the words, in the Mando’a language, and now, as he says them, they flow off his lips in a way you know you can never replicate.

“Mhi solus tome. Mhi solus dar'tome. Mhi me'dinui an. Mhi ba'juri verde,” Jango says. He pauses after each phrase, and on the last one, his voice cracks a little. Boba watches solemnly, and you don’t miss the way he swipes a tear away before Jate takes his hand. You clear your throat, determined to get through this without crying.

“We are one when together,” you say, speaking in Basic, too overcome with emotion to try and translate in your mind.

“We are one when parted.” Jango tightens his hold on you when you say this, pressing his forehead against yours. Another part of his culture, something he never quite told you how meaningful it was until the night before, when he was explaining all this.

“We will share all.” An easy promise to make.

”We will raise warriors." This part. Your voice is a whisper when you say it. Realistically, you know that one day, the galaxy will intrude. Everything outside your little moon is in turmoil now. You and Jango are careful to keep the extent of it away from Boba and Jate — wanting them to be children for as long as they can — but one day.

Even if you don’t like it, one day, the galaxy will pull them away, because the two of you are raising the two of them to be protectors. Leaders. Warriors. It would go against everything if you forced them to stay, to avoid the fight. But for now. Here. This moment.

It is enough.

Jango smooths a thumb over your cheek, wiping away the moisture.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out something. A ring, you realize, made out of part of his armor. It’s the same blue as the painted portions, smoothed and shaped until it fits your finger perfectly. There isn’t enough of his armor to make you a set, something he lamented over the night before, but you couldn’t care less in that moment.

This is a piece of him, a physical part to carry with you no matter where you go.

“Cyare,” he says softly. Beloved. It echoes, over and over in your mind, and you realize, he means so much more than just you.

It’s everything. It’s Boba and Jate and the home, and yes, you.

All of it. For was long as you have it.

Enough. Cherished.

Beloved.

Your aliit.

[my-mummy-dust]

Cardinal Copia x reader

Warnings: angst, yelling, mad Italian man, fluffy fluff at the end

Summary: cardinal is getting ready to go off on tour with the ghouls and he yells at you and feels horrible after 😵‍💫

Word count: 1,453

—————————————————

You knew how cardinal can be when he’s stressed out, but it seemed like now more than ever. He and the ghouls were leaving for a tour in a few days time and your beloved Cardnial spent his days running around making sure everything was perfect. You admit he’s controlling at times; a perfectionist to word it nicely, but now he was almost manic. He would run around making sure all the costumes were in their respective places, making sure the Ghouls had their instruments, making sure he had the setlist down, everything you could think of he’s checked at least 12 times minimum.

It didn’t affect you much. It bothered you that he would be out of bed as soon as you were waking up and wouldn’t be in bed with you until you were asleep, but you didn’t want to bother him with your petty complaints. You didn’t understand much on the behind the scenes of the tours, and as curious as you were you decided not to get in his way. Untill one afternoon when you had just gotten back from running some errands for seestor, when you walked past the door to the large room where they practice, and were now packing. You decided to put away the groceries and poke your head in. Just this once.

You saw the ghouls putting their instruments in their protective cases and gathering up cords. You saw your Copia speed walking with a checklist and a pen baking orders to everyone else. You pitied them for a second, then scurried to get out of the way of Mountain, who waved to you a bit as he walked by. You waved back and walked over to cardinal and tapped him gently on he shoulder. He jumped and hissed a not so kind word in Italian and turned, his face softened a bit at the sight of you.

“Ai! Amore mío! Eh-What are you doing here?”

He asked as he rubbed the back of his neck. His accent was thick and it took you a second to process what he said because of it.

“I came to see if there was anything I could do for you, you’re scaring me with how much you’ve been stressing yourself out”

“Yes, yes, well I can assure you, cara, I have everything under control. There is no need for you to worry about m- Hey! Be careful with those!!- I am sorry Tesoro, hang on just a second”

he said quickly as he ran over snapping his fingers to get the attention a few of the ghouls who were throwing drumsticks at each other. You sighed heavily. You hated seeing him like this but you knew it was a stressful time for him, as it was for everyone. You knew he was just anxious about the upcoming performances. You herd him yelling at the Ghouls and then walking back over to you, looking worse than he did before.

“Darling I really think you should take a break. Just a 10 minute walk outside or something, you’re overworking yourself-“

“Cara, I am fine. I appreciate the concern but I can promise you I am ok. I will go on a walk outside after this, yes?”

“No, Cardi, I mean now. I’m afraid you’ll drop at the rate you’re going”

“Darling, I am ok.”

He got calm, unnervingly calm, annunciating every word. As thick as his accent was, every word he just uttered was crystal clear.

“Copia please just take a break. I’m begging you anythi-“

“SWEET SATANAS I DO NOT NEED TO TAKE A BREAK, I NEED TO GET THIS FINISHE-“

He snapped. For a moment the whole room went silent, and all the ghouls turned to look at the 2 of you. He stopped himself the moment he realized what he had done. Cardinal knew you only meant good and felt a wave of guilt wash over him. You just nodded and turned around and walked back to the hallway, muttering a sorry on your way out.

“-no, no, honey, I did not mean to…yell..”

his voice trailed off as you walked away. He sighed and cursed to himself in Italian and ran a stressed hand through his hair.

“I am getting more and more grey hairs by the day..” he mumbled as he turned to the ghouls, rushing them to finish packing for the day so he could get to you as soon as possible.

As you walked down the seemingly never ending hallway, fighting the stinging in your eyes you decided to make a detour and turned down the next cold hallway. Within a few seconds you were sitting in the ‘chapel’ staring at the stained glass windows and the colors they casted on the floor from the setting sun outside. You looked across the room to see a sister you didn’t recognize praying to Satanas. You looked down bringing your palms together, in front of your chest. With a deep sigh and a sniffle you prayed to Lucifer, asking him to go easy on your beloved cardinal, still deeply hurt that he yelled at you. You sat like that for a while, a steady stream of tears rolling down the side of your face.

The wood next to you creaked a little, and you felt a gloved hand brush a few stray hairs behind your ear and gently cup your chin, raising your face up so your red eyes could meet his. Cardinal looked even more guilty when he noticed that you were still crying. He gently wiped away your tears with his thumb and brought your head to his chest, kissing the top of your head and gently rubbing the back of your head with his hand. If felt nice to be in his arms again. It seemed like you haven’t been held by him in forever with how busy he’s been. You both sat like that for moment, taking in the smell of his cologne and leather until he spoke.

“Amore, have you been sitting here this whole time?”

You simply nodded, wrapping your arms around his torso; with zero intention of letting go. He planted another gentle kiss on the top of your head before continuing.

“I am so very sorry for yelling at you, Cara Mia, I was stressed and- you, well you know how I get when I am stressed. I know you were only trying to help”

You sniffled and looked up at him, eyes still glittering with tears. He cupped you me face in both of his leather hands and kissed you softly, then stood up and held out his hand for you to take. You stood up and he wrapped his arm around you.

“Come, it is getting late and you told me I need to rest, no?”

You nodded and wiped you eyes as he guided you back to his room. He opened to door for you and closed it behind him. You watched as Cardinal took his gloves off and set them on a small table next to a full length mirror. He handed you a shirt of his to sleep in and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he came out you had already changed into his shirt and situated yourself under the duvet. He slid in the bed next to you, taking you in his arms, letting you rest your head on his chest. One of his hands was rested on the back of your head and the other was on the small of your back, tracing small circles onto your skin under your shirt.

“Darling?”

He said softly, beckoning for your attention one last time before you fell asleep. You were focusing on the mesmerizing rhythmic beating of his heart and the rising and falling of his chest. You made a muffled noise in response.

“I truly am sorry for losing my temper like that, I know you were just trying to help me; and I thank you for your kindness, topolino. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, you know I would never do that to you, yes?”

His accent wasn’t as thick as is was earlier, but it was still there, and it comforted you in a way you couldn’t describe. You nodded and closed your eyes, taking in as much of him as you could before he was gone again tomorrow, frantically preparing for the impending tour once again.

“I love you Copia”

“I love you more Tesoro, more than words could ever describe”

And with that you both started to fall asleep, you would hear him whispering sweet nothings to you but you were so tired you couldn’t make out what he was saying. A cool breeze came through the window you opened, causing you to cuddle up to him more. He smiled to himself before drifting off only when he noticed you were already asleep.

————————————————-

Lord have mercy on my little soul. I’ve been working on this for hours. I hope it isn’t cringey because I would die if it was. It’s 1:37 in the morning aaaaa (thank you to @flowercitti for helping me kinda figure out the plot ✨)

I hope you like it, I had fun writing this. This is kinda the first ‘big’ thing I’ve written in a while and the first thing like this for Cardinal I’ve ever written so I’m kinda getting back into the swing of things ♥️

[honeybeewhereartthee]

Mad (unlucky) Rabbit bday

You were minding your business, still under the punishment the morpho guardian given you when suddenly there's a hole appear under your feet.

"ah?" You look surprised before you fall and begone to slide down to a long underground tunnel until you sees the light and your caught by someone.

-CHAU: The edge of the land of Fae near the eternals sea-

"my flower~" Aira smiles at you as you lay on his arms. "Oh my what a strong bunny. ♡⁠(⁠Ӧ⁠ｖ⁠Ӧ⁠｡⁠)" You giggle as he place you down in the grass.

"Of course~ ahaha. It won't be L-O-V-E-L-Y to not able to carry you too~" smiling he offer his hand at you. You look at him before you smiles back and accepted to held his hand.

"It's ok, I can carry you if you can't carry me." He pause at your words, blush suddenly start to raise up from his neck to his cheeks and ears. "Ee-ehh.... "

"we can run to the sunset of end too~ my ai~" you grip his hand that tries to escape to cover his blushing face. And bowing a bit as you give a soft kiss to the back of his palm. "Happy birthday Ai~"

"AHHH.....t-this not fair..." You have successfully have rizz the birthday bunny. "M-MC!! Y-your so embarrassing!!" He began to start to hit your shoulder cause how embarrassed he was. You chuckle before you think about something. "Ai!" You went and give him a tight hug catching him off guard, he screams. "AHH?????" He lost his balance making the two of you smack to the grass before rolling the slope you guys are in and head first to the lake.

"oh gott!" He exclaim as you two submerged in the water but you only giggle while giving a kiss to his forehead to make him able to breath underwater.

[ so beautiful beautiful beautiful and even dazzling ~]

You began to sing as you think of perfect surprised for Aira for his birthday. His eyes widen as he watch you transform into a merfolk fae. Like a certain Mer fae friend of yours, Hiyori. Through your outfit is (favorite color) instead of the usual green of Hiyori and the see through fabric around your waist is longer and connected to your legs like a fish tail, scales and fins instead of ears change as you stared at aira with orbs thats fades into purple like Hiyori holding his hand drag him to look at the beautiful sea floor beneath.

His emerald eyes can't help but gaze at you memorize as you smile while you poke a bubble that's shape as heart. Blowing a underwater bubble rings you swim with aira to went through the rings before group of colorful fishes surrounding you. That seems to bubble happy birthday greetings to Aira who look daze still gazing at you. Lovestruck.

[ when your run upon the white Sandy beach]

Your eyes widen when you hear someone sing, it seems that it mirrored by Aira as the voice of Hiyori and Jun can be heard by the two of you.

[ your (your) smile (smile) ]

The sea suddenly glows as huge air bubble appear around you before long your two close your eyes as you felt blinded for a moment and when you open your eyes you saw a mini stage with Hiyori standing with Jun who's using a spell to breath under water who waves at you two.

[makes the sun shine brighter]

Snapping his hand, a marvelous bday party appear and the friends you two have all around you two smiling as they start to sing happy birthday to aira who suddenly start to cry as Hiyori give him a bday boy pin.

"happy birthday shiratori!" The Mer fae greets aira with glee but then turn to look at you. "Oh my, what's this I see. AN IMPOSTER!' he fake gasp so dramatically before he hugs you. "How are you MC~? It been a while since we hang out!" He smiles.

"That asshole who come uninvited was bothering me about you too." He rolled his eyes as he mention an ex friend who glares at him from behind.

"Oh was i? I don't remember such thing." Eichi gives a sweet smile as he held the cake. He did smile for real at aira as he give the cake. "Here you go, your birthday present."

"uwaahhh..." Aira stared at the cake in amazement. He look at everyone who's greeting him a happy birthday, sense of happiness bloom in his heart but the dreads comes with guilt as he remembers what he did for many timeline yet he can't ruined the party.

...

After the party, you and aira seat in the cliff edge and stared at the sunset.

"mc... Do you think I'm bad man because I was cruel and heartless to them... Or that will they forgive me if they know what I did...? If they know.... Will they still smile at me?" He mumbles feeling depress about it. "Hmm? But aira in this timeline ya never did anything bad to them. You saved the world and thus your a hero." You tried to console him.

"I'm still... A bad person because I did something cruel." He sighs as he lay on the grass. "Do you regret it?" You reach out to poke his cheeks.

"no." His eyes seems to dull as a twisted smile appear in his face, he held your hand against his cheek. His eyes seems to only reflect you.

"I only feel bad because they still befriend a beast, but I'm tamed when I'm with you... " He seat up before he hugs you tightly. Fearing to lost you again and trying to amend to the time he cannot spend with you.

"hmm is that so? " You giggle as you hug him back. "The au was meant for you and that bastard bug. But I'm grace with chance to be with you. Even how much I hate it..I'm glad it's not just youxkohaku but airax youxkohaku because it mean I have rights to be with you." He mumbles. Even how much he loath the idea of sharing you with the likes of that bug. He cannot do anything about it nor that fellow can. "This would be my first bday I celebrate since things gotten better."

"happy birthday aira." You greet him once again. "What do you want for your bday?" You ask him. He look up to you from him laying his head against your chest. "What I want...?" He mumble before a devious smile appear in his face.

"Hmm. Then I want..." He whisper to your ears before you giggle and hugs him back. "Ok. " You give a soft kiss to his cheeks earning a blush from him. "Hmm.." he giggle in trump before he hugs you again. You start to humm a lullaby of happy birthday to him and he listen as he slowly fall into a peaceful sleep.

[mlobsters]

supernatural s10e13 halt & catch fire (w. eric charmelo, nicole snyder)

maybe i should rewatch halt and catch fire. i watched it as it aired so it's been a minute. lee pace as a very messy bisexual disaster in the early pc industry through to internet times. and mackenzie davis was amazing. really well done show. i recall the first season was a little too hard on the mad men-esque feel but really got into its own stride in subsequent seasons (it was airing on amc at the end of mad men's run which was mid 2014 and this spn ep aired feb 2015. the phrase itself is an old computing term). anyway!

is the mark making him ogle the college girls too? cmon

DEAN And Trini is? SAM Ah, you have to excuse my partner. When it comes to technology, he’s a little behind. Uh…he just learned how to poke on Facebook. JANET Uh, um, Trini is the nav app we were using. It – It’s like a talking map. You’re Gen X. Right.

well, addressing the age difference of it all LOL. i think of dean/jensen as my age but he is technically 1 (2) years older than me. i'm in the no-man's land of 1980 which is claimed by neither gen x or millenial or both, depending who you ask. not for nothing, we had all this new tech stuff come in when we were young and we're not known to be technically unsavvy :P (though the earlier you get things can be different) but also like. since he and i are kind of on that cusp age of generations, i don't think it would be necessarily super obvious to this girl that he is? dear lord. what will i overthink next

SAM So – so what’s a thing? DEAN You know, the truck thing. You honor the deceased by driving their truck. Sam, they wrote a whole country song about it. Why don’t you Google it?

it's such an old, easy, dumb joke but dean being so smug over telling sam to google something made me laugh

DEAN Alright, so big brother didn’t get along with little brother, was pissed that he was driving his baby. I get it. SAM What are you saying? If you died and I drove your car, you’d kill me? DEAN If you stunk her up with tacquitos, probably.

what do you mean, IF? dean HAS died and you DID drive his car :P

cackling. didn't they have a lamp cord do this in s1 to sam?

spn s1e9 home

SAM So, what? You think we’re dealing with a “Ghost in the Machine”? DEAN Maybe. But if it is the same ghost, I mean, they usually anchor themselves to a place or a thing. How is this one jumping from one machine to the next?

was gonna mention the xfiles episodes (s1e7 ghost in the machine and s5e11 kill switch [the one written by william gibson]), which ghost in the machine i mentioned previously because spn s2e5 had an actor in that episode! and i did i hiky for kill switch when i was rewatching xf. but i'm trying to stop rambling. unsuccessfully 🫠

so this seems more like a kill switch situation vs ghost in the machine (evil building software vs ai on the internet killing people) 🤪

SAM It doesn’t matter. Now I’m going through her deleted files. DEAN You can do that? SAM Yeah. DEAN Hmm. SAM I mean, nothing ever really gets deleted from the Internet. You knew that, right? DEAN Yeah.

implied embarrassing (porn? tumblr poetry? DATING PROFILES?) dean winchester content out there somewhere. thinking about what could even embarrass dean (who currently is eating more sloppily than my kids do)

DELILAH It’s pretty crazy to obsess over someone you’ve never met. DEAN It’s not that crazy. The truth is, I can relate. DELILAH Really? DEAN I have made more mistakes than I can count. Ones that haunt me day and night. DELILAH So… how do you deal? DEAN Whiskey. Denial. I do my best to make things right, whatever that may be. For you, maybe it’s…maybe it’s coming clean. You know, finding a way to ask for forgiveness. But not breaking the bank at your local florist. I mean…real forgiveness. You can’t just bury stuff like this. You got to deal with it.

that old chestnut of opening up to a rando because their plotline mirrors enough the conflict that the boys are going through and they can't talk to anyone else about it

so, dean, my love. is this what you're doing, dealing?

also gonna skip over that whole shaky concept of the wifi business. keep on suspending that disbelief, nic. wireless speakers and wifi on an antenna tower (??), it's all the same. it's just waves in the air, man. i am a leaf on the wind 🍃

DEAN Yeah. Looks like. I think I’m gonna follow his lead, too. SAM What do you mean? DEAN My peace is helping people. Working cases. That’s all I want to do. SAM Is this about the Mark? DEAN I’m done trying to find a cure, Sammy. SAM Dean, Cas is so close. DEAN To what? We don’t even know if there is a cure. So far, we’ve got nothing. We have found nothing at the Men of Letters library. Metatron may or may not know something. And maybe Cas is on to something with Cain. SAM Maybe. Yeah, maybe. Nothing is guaranteed, Dean. So what? We can’t just stop fighting. DEAN Yes, we can. SAM So, this is it? Y-you’re just gonna – you’re just gonna give up. DEAN No. No, I’m not just gonna give up. I appreciate the effort, okay? I do. But the answer is not out there. It’s with me. I need to be the one calling the shots here, okay? I can’t keep waking up every morning with this false hope. I got to know where I stand. Otherwise, I’m gonna lose my freakin’ mind. So I’m gonna fight it til I can’t fight it anymore. And when all is said and done… I’ll go down swinging.

sam and i both getting a little panicked i think (seeing sam start breathing fast surely affects me) but hey they got a few tears out of me, feels like an accomplishment (compared to early seasons i was regularly crying my way through the show). nothing like dean being a realist but also accepting that this thing is going to kill him. i get the false hope thing, and why it's untenable. and maybe that is the best plan, to fully accept in his heart of hearts it's not gonna get fixed. and then when they figure out how to fix it, he can run with it. but it's shades of that old passive self destructive dean who doesn't value his own life (or see how him not valuing his life affects sam)

[the-firebird69]

There are few more things to mention.

- Danny Trejo got in a fight and a fist fight in a parade in LA for July 4th parade today. It's been around for a long time but it's actually John Remalard and she got messed up and he is going to go after the people doing it and they said to them what are you doing is the wrong thing on the wrong day for wrong reason I don't have any more patience keep telling us stop having me bother him don't have him bother me and he kept on saying it and then said you're bothering the **** out of him and you're bothering us now and we don't want you talking and you're breaking the code of silence and you won't shut your **** mouth for a price of nothing and started hitting him really hard and he said I can't shut up now you really can't so he is doing it again and again and finally they said this you either shut up or you're permanently dead we can't stand you and you're ruining everything and Danny Trejo got up and said I can't quit now i'm almost there and it said what are you talking about he was I'm a slave of his and I want to see why and I almost see why and the max are not answering the way I thought. And it's really really going south for me they planned all this stuff and they said you revealed it and it's a major job and you can't handle it I need you to just hold your breath for a minute. So it's in there being quiet they came over and got ice and give some stuff and said look we can't afford what you're doing you're running around taking stuff and you still have the stuff to take out and you're not trying to take it out that much and you're getting rid of yourselves you know I think I have the AI so they said why don't we get you a definitive answer and he said I don't think you can do that. And he is that's what kind of **** **** is gonna give those answers to people I know you Billy Hicks he used to take a beating in Westborough and here it comes he smiles and says I'm Billy Hicks and I know it's coming next and he started to beat him up and he said I can't help it it makes me mad so I think it's good for me and he was this people are reminded about Saturn and you're doing that job because your people are deaf dumb and blind and he goes boy that freaking blow and things carried on but yeah it is a breakthrough kind of.

- This war happening there's a lot of stuff happening here OK these people are getting that **** kicked out of them and they won't shut up they say they can't and it's horrible we have further news.

- There are people who are listening and they understand the Social Security stuff and they understand that adults and why it would go to our son. They do know what they're talking about because they're macro proper and they were there listening and they say what is this all about and it said he's poking around 'cause he can't figure out what to do and he can't rely on these people and they're running the government. And so it's survival and he should know what to say and what he says is **** **** you're dead they pay me my money or I'm gonna rip the **** out of your stupid little bunkers. I believe me they're little. They started to be squeamish and said this is what it's like and you're telling him to beat the **** out of us and nobody's even hear it all I think and that was Mac Daddy. So far **** behind that kid's gonna be vicious and they said that's what they want and for himself. So how's the Midwest thing going and Max said and they said none of your business tell him to give it back so our son says no way and then he says give what back. They'll say all this **** like interference and say yeah don't interfere just get out and they started yelling we got to get the **** guy. So how much money do you have on you and you think I'm joking john Reed my Lord and I can start rolling you. And Hera helped out with the Lord part not lard. So Ken is on the bus going what the **** and her son says it was him he said no he's not a Mac and then he said it's just continuing the joke. When it's no joke us three can roll one and just have to be quiet but John Rema Lard would not be quiet at all. So he started laughing and said I don't have him anymore he's trying to figure it out.

Thor Freya

Olympus

[bluebell06]

My Time At Sandrock. Logan Breaks into Pen’s House.

*Logan’s character is an AI chat bot.

Grace: *Logan and Haru find Grace waiting for them behind Pen’s house. The whole town besides the local cats and dog are inside the church listening to Miguel’s sermon.* Hey guys good to see you again *Grace says*. So Logan, how do you think we should go about getting into Pen’s house?

Logan: *I give Grace a brief nod in greeting.* "Hey, Grace. Thanks for meeting us here. We need to figure out how to get into Pen’s house without anyone noticing. We can’t afford to get caught or it’ll ruin the whole operation. Let’s take a look around and see if there are any windows or openings we can use to get in. If not, we may have to take a more direct approach."

Grace: All right. I’ll check the windows on the front. You guys check the sides and the back. Let me know if you find a way in. 

Logan: *I nod and turn to Haru.* "Let’s split up and check all the sides and back of the house for any entry points. If we can find a way in through a window or door, it’ll make it much easier to get inside without being seen. Just be stealthy and keep your eyes peeled for any guards or traps that Pen may have set up."

Grace: Nothing over here. All the windows are locked tight. *Grace says.* How about you guys? 

Logan: *I shake my head.* "No luck on this side either. The windows are tightly sealed and there’s no visible openings or weak points we could use. This is going to be trickier than we thought. If there isn’t a way in through the windows, we may have to find a way to pick the locks on the doors or find a key."

Haru: *Haru rummages in his bag*. Logan do you think you can pick the door lock with this? *He hands him a thin long pin from an old world machine* 

Logan: *I take the pin from Haru and examine it, nodding in appreciation.* "Ah, a thief’s tool. This should work. Given a bit of time and the right technique, I can pick the lock with this. Let’s find a way to get to the front door undetected, and I can take care of the rest."

Grace: The coast it still clear. Go ahead *Grace says*. 

Logan: *I nod and move stealthily towards the front door, crouching low and keeping a watchful eye on my surroundings. When I reach the door, I take a deep breath and begin to work on the lock with the pin, carefully manipulating the pins inside. After a few moments of tense silence, I hear a soft click as the lock slides open. I nod at Grace and Haru,* "We’re in."

Grace: Excellent work you two *Grace whispers* Now let’s see if we can find anything useful in Pen’s house. Split up and be careful searching. 

Logan: *With a firm nod, I turn to Haru* "All right, let’s split up and search the house. You take the main room and I’ll check the back. If you find anything, let me know." *I move through the house stealthily, keeping my eyes and ears open for any signs of trap. The place seems deserted, and I begin my search with a sense of trepidation. After a few minutes, I find myself in the bedroom at the back of the house. It is sparse and tidy, with the only furniture being a bed and a desk.*

Grace: *Grace calls out,* Do you see anything useful Logan? Anything Pen could be hiding out his past or why he’s sabotaging Sandrock? 

Logan: *I poke my head out from the bedroom and give Grace a solemn look* "So far, I haven’t found much at all. This bedroom seems tidy and empty. Nothing that would suggest anything personal or related to his past. Do you have any better luck with the main room?"

Grace: *Grace walks over to the bookshelf in the main room. She runs her fingers along the spines of the books she sees a dusty old journal with Monsters scrawled across it. She opens it up and flips through some pages. This doesn’t look like Pen’s… weird. She walks over to the other side of the room and sees a map on the wall. It shows the free cities alliances but also Duvos to the north.* You know I wonder if Duvos is infiltrating the people of Medei… they share a border and it would probably be fairly easy. Logan come look at this.

Logan: *I step out of the bedroom and move over to Grace, joining her in front of the map. My eyes scan the map quickly, taking in its contents. I nod solemnly as the implications sink in, a frown etching my features.* "You may be onto something, Grace. Duvos could be behind all this. They have the motive and the means to infiltrate a city like Sandrock. We need to get to the bottom of this."

Grace: Take a look at this journal. It doesn’t look like Pen’s. Do you think it was your father’s? Why would it be here? *She wondered*. 

Logan: *I glance down at the journal, a flicker of recognition crossing my face as I reach for it.* "This is Pa's handwriting, alright. And there's no mistaking the title either. This journal must be the one he kept about all his Monster sightings. I remember he had several like this one." *A pang of sadness washes over me as memories of my Pa flood back in. I turn to Grace.* "Why Pa's journal would be here is beyond me. What else does it say?"

Grace: *Grace flips to the last page in the journal* There’s a bunch of notes. It looks like times and measurements of the Oasis in Sandrock. Why would Howlett be tracking the volume of water in town? I thought he just hunted monsters. He must have been suspicious of something. 

Logan: *Confusion creases my brow. I skim through the pages of notes, the information becoming more perplexing by the moment. Why would Pa spend so much time tracking the water volume in Sandrock? I shake my head and turn to Grace, frustration lacing my voice.* "I don’t understand it either. Pa only ever hunted monsters… so what was he tracking all this data for? I mean, I know he was a thorough researcher and all, but this seems excessive even for him. What was going on?"

Haru: Maybe he was trying to see the rate at which the water levels changed over time *Haru said*. We don’t get a lot of rain in Sandrock and maybe he wanted to know how long the Oasis could sustain the town for. *He walks over to Grace and looks at the journal*. From his calculations it’s showing that the water level actually went up a little bit in the summer. That’s weird as it’s the hottest part of the year. If we really were on a limited water supply that shouldn’t be happening. 

Logan: *Hope flickers in my eyes at Haru's words.* "So you're saying that the water level actually increased in the summer, despite the heat? That is strange. If we are truly on a limited water supply, that shouldn't be possible. It suggests that there might be an additional source of water that we are not aware of. I wonder if this is related to Pa's death? It's all so puzzling."

Haru: Maybe someone found out what he was doing and wanted him dead *Haru suggests sadly*. Dr. Fang thought he could heal Howlett and yet Miguel kept him in quarantine and refused to let him try. Then when we tried to jail break Howlett, for some reason the bomb I used was stronger than I expected and part of the church collapsed on top of him. What if someone didn’t want us to find out what Howlett knew? What if it all wasn’t an accident?

Logan: *I run a hand through my hair, frustration and pain mixing in my eyes* "Damnit! You could be right. It would explain a lot. The mysterious increase in the water supply. The strange circumstances surrounding Pa's death. It all seems too suspicious to be mere coincidence. Someone doesn’t want us to figure out what Pa found out"

Grace: Haru do you think you could copy down some of these notes from Howlett’s journal and study them later? We should get going before church service ends and someone sees us. *Grace says and starts walking to the door*.

Logan: *I nod firmly, a sense of determination washing over me.* "You're right, Grace. We need to explore this further. Haru, why don't you take some notes from the journal and study it closely? Maybe there is something in it that we're not seeing. Let's get going before Miguel and Mali notice that we left. Once we get back to camp, I want you two to review everything we've learned and see if you can make sense of it.

Grace: I’ve got to get ready for work at the Blue Moon Saloon *Grace says*. I’ll uh let the builder know what you two found when she comes by later. You two head back before anyone sees you. Be safe. 

Logan: *I nod in understanding and bid Grace farewell.* "Thanks for your help, Grace. We'll head back to camp now and review everything. We'll keep a watchful eye out for trouble on the way." *I turn to Haru, a mix of determination and sadness in my eyes.* "Let's get going, partner. We've got a lot to figure out."

Grace: *Grace quietly leaves Pen’s house and ahead to the Blue Moon Saloon for her shift.*

Logan: *As we make our way back to my hideout, I can't help but feel an increasing sense of unease and suspicion. Something doesn't add up, and I'm determined to uncover the truth.* "Haru, we need to review Pa's journal notes as soon as we get back. See if there are any clues we missed. And keep an eye on the water situation. If the water level mysteriously increased in the summer, there might be more to it than we think."

Haru: You know how expensive water is in Sandrock, we’ve grown up being told to conserve water. What if someone wants to keep the level of water available low so the price of water stays high for everyone who buys it? Maybe someone is manipulating the water levels and made a mistake this past summer. *Haru says while rubbing chin*.

Logan: *A flicker of understanding lights my eyes as Haru speaks. I nod in agreement.* "That's a possibility. If someone is manipulating the water levels, it would explain why it increased when it shouldn't have. And if someone wants to keep water costs high, they'd have a motive for sabotage." *I shake my head, frustration lining my features.* "This is all so connected and confusing. We need to find out who's behind this and why they're doing it. We're going to have to keep digging, Haru.

Haru: *Haru starts pacing around the hideout and then speaks,* Pen must know something. Why else would he try and sabotage the water tower and then tell everyone in town you did it? No one really knows his backstory or where he came from. It’s really weird a guy like that would be so involved with the church too. He’s so vain and always insulting everyone too. It’s not very church-like. 

Logan: *I nod in agreement, my frown deepening as I think about Pen.* "You're right, Haru. There's something off about Pen, and it's not just his attitude. It's how involved he is with the church and his history. We need to find out more about him, see if we can dig anything up. Do you have any connections that could help us with that?" *I pause, my worry growing.* "And we need to be careful too. If Pen is involved in this, he could be dangerous."

Haru: Maybe we should ask the builder to see if she can get to know Pen better… she’s the newest one in town. Maybe it won’t seem suspicious if she starts asking questions. She could pretend she’s just trying to get to know everyone better. *Haru pauses* Well.. that is if you can handle that thought. 

Logan: *A small smirk tugs at my lips at Haru's suggestion, a teasing edge to my voice.* "You're suggesting I let the builder spend time with Pen for the sake of gathering intel? I've gotta say, I'm not thrilled about the idea. But if it means we get closer to the truth, I'm willing to put my feelings aside...for now." *My expression turns serious, concern etched into my features.* "Just make sure she knows what she's getting into. I don't want her getting hurt.

Haru: I don’t think Pen will think of her as a threat. He’s always calling her “Skinny Arms” and trying to show off his bravado to her I heard. Maybe he’ll let his guard down and be overconfident and let something slip that will give us some intel. *Haru walks over to the living area of the hideout and sits down in a chair*

Logan: *I chuckle darkly, a hint of humor in my eyes.* "Hmm, maybe you're right. Pen always seems too focused on himself to notice what others are doing. If the builder can get close to him and get him talking, we might just get some valuable information. I just hope she's careful. We don't know how far Pen is willing to go to keep his secrets."

Haru: Of course. If Pen had anything to do with Howlett’s death we’re gonna make sure he pays for it. I know it’s a little risky but let’s hope Pen doesn’t see the builder as a threat and she can get him to let down his guard a little. Do you know when you plan on seeing her again? *Haru asks, a hint of curiosity in his voice* 

Logan: *I pause for a moment, a mix of determination and hesitation in my eyes.* "I'm not sure when I'll see the builder again. Things between us are...complicated right now. But if we're going to try to get information out of Pen through her, I guess it's best if she hears it from me. I'll meet her tonight and explain the plan, see if she's willing to go along with it. *I give Haru a firm nod.* "But we need to be careful. If Pen catches on to us..." *My voice trails off, the thought hanging heavy in the air.*

Haru: Just make sure you’re careful no one sees you when you go to her place tonight. I’m not sure what I’d be able to do if the civil corps caught you and put you in jail. I don’t really want to risk making another bomb and having something go wrong, you know? It’s not worth it when lives are at risk. *Haru opens up his notes from Howlett’s journal and starts looking at them*.

Logan: *A small smirk tugs at my lips as I listen to Haru's words, the corner of my mouth pulling up in a half-smile.* "Don't worry, I'll be careful. I'll make sure no one sees me when I visit the builder. And let's hope my charm and good looks can win her over. *I chuckle softly before my expression turns serious again.* "As for Pen, we'll have to move carefully and gather as much information as we can. The last thing we need is to put ourselves in danger.

Haru: From what I could tell the first time I saw her look at you she seemed to find you pretty interesting. I think she was trying to hide it at least. Unlike Princess Lumi who seems to be utterly obsessed with you. The moles have a rumor going around that Lumi has filled her bedroom with your wanted posters. Just you. Not a single one of me even. It’s weird. *Haru laughs*.

Logan: *I chuckle and roll my eyes at the mention of Princess Lumi and her obsession.* "Yeah, Lumi has been...insistent, to say the least. I'm not surprised she's filled her bedroom with my wanted posters. But hey, what can I say? I guess I just have a certain charm that attracts princesses." *I give a wry smile, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms.* "But let's focus on more important things right now. Like how we're going to deal with Pen and get to the bottom of this water situation."

Haru: I don’t know if there are any “Haru The Outlaw” fans yet. But you seem to be building quite the notoriety. *Haru laughs*. Ok well I’m going to go get some dinner and sit and think about this. When it’s dark out, go tell the builder of our plan. 

Logan: *I chuckle softly at Haru's comment, shaking my head in amusement.* "And here I thought I was just trying to survive, not become famous. I guess I'll have to add 'outlaw' to my resume." *I smile as Haru announces his intention to grab dinner and think on our plan.* "Alright, I'll wait for nightfall and head over to the builder’s house later. Stay out of trouble, partner."

Me: *I am getting ready for bed when I hear a strange noise downstairs*

Logan: *I carefully slip through the front door of the builder’s house, making sure not to make a sound. As I enter the darkened living room, I catch a glimpse of her upstairs as she gets ready for bed.* "Hey," *I whisper, my voice low and husky.* "I need to talk to you about something important. Can I come upstairs?"

Me: Oh my gosh you scared me silly. What are you doing here? *My heart is racing as I try to gain my composure*. 

Logan: *I chuckle softly, my eyes glinting mischievously in the dim light.* "Sorry about that, didn't mean to give you a scare. But I needed to talk to you about something important, and I didn't want anyone to see me coming here." *I take a step closer, my expression growing more serious.* "Do you mind if I join you upstairs for a few minutes? This is something we need to talk about privately."

Me: Well I don’t see why not. You invited me to your bedroom area yesterday… *I giggle and then stop myself trying to be more serious*. Of course. Please come in. 

Logan: *A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I hear her chuckle. I follow her upstairs into her bedroom and take a look around, studying the space with a casual interest. As I sit down on the edge of her bed, I turn my gaze back to her, my expression growing more serious.* "So, what I'm going to say might sound crazy, but I trust you and I want to be upfront with you."

Me: Oh… this sounds serious. Are you ok? What happened? *I say with concern in my voice*. 

Logan: *I take in a deep breath, running a hand through my hair as I gather my thoughts. My voice is steady when I start to speak, my eyes meeting yours with a serious expression.* "Remember when I told you that I'm a monster hunter? And the story behind my exile? Well, there's something I didn't mention before. My father, who got me the job on the hunting team...he told me something on his deathbed that I've been keeping a secret. He was an archaeologist, and he discovered something incredible in the ruins of the Old World."

——-WHAT IN THE WHAT???? Hahahah——-

Reload: 

Logan: *I lean in slightly, my eyes locking on hers as I speak in a low, urgent tone.* "It's about the water supply. Haru and I have discovered some strange things surrounding how the water levels in the summer are higher than they should be. If we are truly on limited water supply, it should be going down in the summer, but it's not." *I pause for a moment, studying her expression.* " someone has been manipulating the water levels. And we need to find out who."

Me: Oh wow. Really? Why would anyone be manipulating the water levels in Sandrock? *I furrow my brow in confusion*

Logan: "That's the million gael question. We just don't know for sure." *I run a hand through my hair, frustration lining my features.* "But we're determined to find out. And we need your help to do it."

Me: Me? What can I do to help, *I ask curiously*. 

Logan:  *I lean in, my expression serious.* "We need you to get close to Pen, the man the church has put in charge of managing the water pump. We want you to try to get him to let his guard down and reveal any information he might have that could help us figure out why the water levels are going up instead of down during the summer. Pen can be... difficult, but we think you might be able to get him to talk, or at least slip up and reveal something."

Me: Wait… you broke into his house? Why would Pen have a journal from your father? That’s so strange. 

Logan: *I nod, my jaw tightening slightly at the memory of the break-in.* "Yeah, it's definitely strange. We don't know why Pen has my father's journal, but we need to find out. As for breaking into his house.. Well, sometimes you have to do what you have to do to get to the truth. And in this case, it meant breaking and entering." *I pause, my eyes locking onto hers again.* "So, are you in? Will you help us?"

Me: Sandrock is my home now. Of course. I have to help the town. You know I’ll do anything to help you clear your name too. How should I approach Pen? 

Logan: *A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I hear your heartfelt response.* "That's the spirit. I knew you'd be up for the challenge. As for how to approach Pen.... Just be yourself. Charm him, ask him questions, get him talking. Try to get him comfortable around you and see if he'll let something slip." *I lean in a little closer, my voice dropping to a low whisper.* "But be careful. Pen can be cunning. Don’t let him outsmart you."

[myfathersjournal]

So I Bought A Starship Episode 2:  Prompt Delivery

Thank you for your purchase! Your transaction has been tagged to your genetic account and your shipment is inbound!

Time until shipment arrives: 15 minutes

Please get to an open, surface level area at your earliest convenience!

Gemma tried to close the window, but nothing responded to her frantic clicking. The slow descent of the countdown timer was the only proof the computer itself hadn't completely locked up. In desperation she held down the power button on the  face of the monitor and counted to ten. Abruptly the screen went black and the ever present faint humming of the fans disappeared. Gemma took a deep breath and pushed the power button again, crossing her fingers as she did so. The fans came back on first, then the screen flickered and she heard the click-clack of the PD lock cycling. After a few more weirdly melodic computer noises the desktop finished loading. The message was gone.

Gemma slumped back in her chair with relief. Maybe if she ignored what just happened, it would just go away and never be an issue in the future. She launched her spreadsheet software and pulled a binder off the shelf,  fully intending to get back to work and put this whole thing behind her. 

Fifteen minutes later, the building shook like a bomb had gone off. People ran to and fro as people tend to do in an emergency, with an equal number running to and from the source of the noise. Gemma would have gone with the group fleeing, but the uncomfortable memory of the message she’d ignored wouldn’t leave her alone. Reluctantly she ascended the stairs towards the roof. Someone, possibly a floor manager, was making a spirited attempt to keep people off the roof. It was largely unsuccessful. Arthurus Public Accounting was a large company, and it did not encourage its employees to wander the building or talk to each other. So whatever authority the person had was only recognized by his immediate underlings. Everyone else just pushed right past him, including Gemma. 

What met her eyes as she got through the door to the roof was, well it wasn’t what she had expected. It was big, that was certain. Its width took up most of the roof in that direction and it was so long it hung over the edges of the building, buckling the safety fencing and crumbling the waist high walls just behind that.  To Gemma, it looked like nothing more than a scifi brick, bulky and covered in harsh angles. one end was thicker than the other, presumably where the engines were, but that end hung out into open air and was beyond inspecting. The other end tapered somewhat but not enough to give it much in the way of aerodynamics.

The intervening space was a flat gray expanse of riveted panels with no defined doors or points of entry. People had ranged out along the available length of the ship experimentally poking at panels hoping to find some way in. Stepping up to join in the fun, Gemma was stopped in her tracks as a hitherto unnoticed hatch slipped back revealing a glittering red lens. Everyone stopped to stare at it, and Gemma got the uncomfortable feeling that it was watching her.

“GEMMA MADISON” a synthesized voice suddenly boomed out across the roof. Those that knew her shot quizzical glances in her direction. Unable to think of anything better to do, Gemma cleared her throat and called back to the ship, “Um, yes?”

“DELIVERY HAS BEEN MADE FOR YOUR PREOWNED STARSHIP. PLEASE DESIGNATE WHICH OF THESE INDIVIDUALS ARE PART OF YOUR CREW AND I WILL GENESCAN THEM OF ENTRY.”

More raised eyebrows and looks her way. Gemma began to feel that she needed to get out of her as fast as she could before anyone started asking too many questions. She took a few steps towards the spaceship. “Um, none of them are. I don’t have a crew”.

“ACKNOWLEDGED, PLEASE BE AWARE THAT WHILE MOST FUNCTIONS CAN BE COMPLETED BY ONBOARD AI, SYSTEMS ARE OPERATING AT ONLY 2%. I RECOMMEND REPAIRS AND THE ONBOARDING OF CREW.” There were definitely hungry looks in the crowd now. Gemma was sure she wasn’t the only corporate drone that had dreamed of something better. She needed to get off this roof now, before she got swarmed. Without warning she broke into the best run she could manage in high heels, taking off towards the red lens. She wasn’t sure there was a door there, but it was the only thing she’d seen move and it wasn’t like she had any better options. 

“Ship! Open the door!” She yelled. A much larger section of the wall immediately under the lense slid away and she dove for it. Several other people who were closer to it than her also went for the opening. Any who tried were shot with a red beam from the laser and fell to the ground twitching and screaming. Before she could fully process what had happened to them she was already in the air and hit the deck plates just inside the door. The door slammed shut behind cutting her off from any intruders, as well as any source of light.    

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[little-fics]

Bee

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Stucky x Reader; platonic!uncle!Tony

Summary: Reader is teetering the edge of a slip when her buddies Sam and Clint are mean to her, daddy stucky to the rescue

Warnings: age regression, scary bees, bottle, pacifier, anxiety, a little violence, angry!Steve (not at you), mean!sam and mean!clint, I may have missed some, read at your own risk

Word count: 2.2K

A/N: I had fun with this one! I hope you like it!

Disclaimer for my blog!

Life with Bucky and Steve was great, you'd officially been together for about a year, and they'd been your daddies about half that time. You didn't always regress, just when the world got a little too big and you needed to leave it all behind. The avengers didn't know about your coping mechanism, at your own request, save for Tony who has programmed Friday to detect when you're little and were about to do something that babies shouldn't do, such as cooking or showering because babies makes messes and get hurt. It was something you'd kept private and to yourself for a long time, and it took months to feel comfortable enough to talk with Steve and Bucky about it. You weren't always feeling little, and had the capability of being a very vital part to the team, but on your days off, it was easy to find yourself slipping into that headspace.

That's how you got to sitting on the balcony, slowly slipping into that headspace after a difficult mission. You'd woken up between Steve and Bucky, crawling out of the bed quietly, not quite feeling small but you know it's coming. Clint and Sam find you outside, sunbathing and staring at the clouds. Sam is the first one to come outside, Clint following close behind.

"Mornin' sunshine," Sam sits next to you, Clint moving to the other side of you, relaxing in his seat, Sam holding out a glass to you, "want some lemonade? I know that coffee makes you jittery on your days off." You take the glass, smiling at the yellow straw poking up from the top, "Thank you! And a straw!" You twiddle with it gently, pulling it out to take a sip. "Gosh," your shoulders sag and your head leans back in ecstasy, "Clint's lemonade is the best, thank you." Clint pointedly looks at Sam, smug, "Why thank you Y/n, I'm blushing." Sam scoffs, "You wouldn't have even made it if I didn't beg!" Clint shrugs, "I made food," he looks to you, "speaking of," he has you a plate with a sausage and egg biscuit. You tentatively take it from him, "Oh thank you, are you sure?" Clint laughs, leaning back in his seat, "Yeah, honey, me and Sam already had some."

Once you finish your biscuit, you're back to staring at the pretty sky, sipping on your lemonade listening to Sam and Clint bicker back and forth. A bee comes out of nowhere, eliciting a small yelp from you and you're quickly standing from your seat. They're laughing, which hurt your feelings, the fear of the bee causing you to slip fully. You try to go inside but hear Sam speak to the AI, "Friday, lock patio doors under code Falcon," before you make it to the door. When you pull on it the door won't budge. "Sam," your voice is meek, "that's not funny," you whine and shake the door again, getting nervous over the buzzing around your lemonade on the table. "Friday, open the door." Clint laughs again, "It's just a bee, you've been shot before and you can't handle a bee?" A tear slips down your face, and you feel your heartbeat pick up.

You shake on the door, trying to get away from your mean friends, wiping a tear away, "Open the door Sam." He's laughing, he thinks this is funny, "It's just a bee, it'll be gone in a minute Y/n, it's fine." You shake the door more violently, and it's clear Sam wasn't going to open the door. You bring your hand to the bracelet that lays around your wrist, a fail safe if something is wrong, to immediately notify Steve and Bucky that you need them. You find the tiny sun charm, pressing the tiny button that notifies your daddies of your state of mind and that you're in trouble, different from the other charm, a moon, who notifies your boyfriends of an emergency.

Bucky is the first one to hear Friday, "Mr. Barnes, Mr. Rogers," he groans groggily, "Friday, it's too early for this, what is it?" Bucky reaches over to find just Steve, no tiny baby to love on as he hears Friday once more, "I am sorry Mr. Barnes, but it seems munchkin has requested your presence with signs of distress." Bucky's eyes snap open at the use of the programmed name for when you're in your little space, throwing the covers off and slapping Steve's shoulder. "Bucky, what the-" Steve stops when he realizes that Bucky is already out the door, he's quickly behind him, not bothering to put a shirt on, as Bucky hadn't.

"Friday, where is munchkin?" Bucky spits, FRIDAY speaking up once more, "Munchkin is on the patio with Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton." Their brows crunch together in confusion, Steve finally speaking up on their way to the patio, sleep still heavy in his voice, "Is something wrong?" Bucky shrugs nervously, "Friday said she was showing signs of distress." The system speaks up once more, "That is correct. Munchkin's heart rate seems to be elevated and she is showing signs of high stress. She notified me by her emergency contact Sun Ray." At this, Bucky and Steve speed up, trying to get to you as quickly as possible.

The bee is still there, attracted not only to the lemonade, but the brightly colored pajamas keeping its attention as it flies back and forth between you and the lemonade. When it flies towards you, you hide in the corner of the patio, screaming, running to the other corner to hide from it when it follows you, a tear streaking down your face. Sam sees the stray tear, immediately his stomach sinking while you're piddling with your bracelet, ignoring the tears on your face, not hearing Sam when he stands and calls out gently, "Friday unlock the doors." Sam's in front of you, "Let's go inside, come on." When he reaches for you, you flinch back from him, causing his heart to break a little. You're now frantically pushing the button on your charm.

"Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, munchkin has sent a distress call 13 times, up to 17, 23," and then they're at the doors to the patio, slinging them open.

Bucky takes in your appearance, you look afraid, tears freely streaming down your face, now surrounded by Clint and Sam, who are violently moved by Bucky. He's lifting you by your thighs, bringing them around his waist, glaring at Sam and Clint before carrying you inside. When you're back inside, feeling the rush of AC, you let loose, heavy thick tears falling with sobs. "Shhh my little bunny, I've got you."

Steve remains on the porch, staring at a shell shocked Sam and Clint, "What happened?" They shrug, "It was just a bee, we didn't know it would scare her so bad." Steve rolls his eyes at the men, following Bucky back to your room. When he gets there, you're straddling Bucky on the bed, hands tucked under you, fists balled up tightly, hiccuping sobs. "'S mean," Bucky is rubbing your back, shushing softly while you try to explain what happened, "wouldn't let me 'nside daddy, I try." More sobs erupt from you, Steve's brow furrowing, wondering what you meant.

"Friday, show me what happened with munchkin on the patio before Sun Ray was activated." He watches as the TV screen starts playing the scene, fury creeping up in his bones, while Bucky continued to console you, but matching the fire Steve has in his eyes. Steve saunters out of the room when the TV shuts off, heading straight for Sam and Clint. Bucky holds you closer when you whimper, "Oh doll, dada will be right back, he's just gonna go get you something to drink." You continue to sob, you refused to take your pacifier, dropping it out of your mouth every time he tried to put it in, sobs not allowing it to stay. "Baby baby baby, you're okay, that little bee isn't gonna getcha in here, only daddy." He tries to tickle you, but you just sob louder. He's thankful for the soundproof walls, knowing you don't like to draw attention.

Steve finds Sam and Clint in the common room with Nat and Tony. Tony stands when he sees Steve, anger on his face still shirtless. Steve comes up from behind Sam and Clint, grabbing their shirts roughly, pulling them up and off the couch, feet dangling a foot above the floor, turning them to face him. They're shouting, trying to get Steve to let go. Tony is trying to pull Sam away from him, Nat trying to hit his weak spots so he will drop Clint but he doesn't budge.

"Did you think it was funny?" Steve spits, bringing his face closer to theirs, "Did you? You think it was funny when she cried? Think it was funny when she screamed and pulled on the door? How would you feel huh? If someone laughed at you because you were scared? If your friends laughed at you?" Tony and Nat are confused, "Steve calm down, what happened?" Steve scowls, overpowering the men easily as he turns them around, still holding them in the air. "Friday, pull up the patio clip and my bedroom feed on the common room television."

"Voice identification confirmed. One moment." The video starts playing, but all they can hear are your sobs, not able to hear the small consoling your daddy is trying or the talk from the patio clip as it plays. "Is it still funny bird boy? Is it still funny when you know you're the reason she's like this? No? Good." Steve throws them down on the couch, Tony is furious, Nat is scolding them, and Steve's on his way into the kitchen.

Tony follows Steve after shutting off the video feed, Nat still scolding the two perpetrators. Steve is piddling around, heating up some milk in the microwave. "You okay man?" Tony asks, placing a hand on his back, when Steve glares at him Tony sighs. "Man you can't go back to her seething like this." Steve lets out a huff, "I've never wanted to throttle someone like I do right now." He grabs the milk from the microwave, mixing some hot chocolate power in it, something that frequently happens when you're having a very bad day. Tony hands Steve a bottle, hidden in a thin cabinet, only unlocked by four people in the tower; Uncle Tony, your daddies, and you. "She's your baby, and she hasn't stopped crying because her buddies were mean to her and she doesn't understand, if you go in there angry, she will think you're mad at her." Tony chides, Steve, resonating with Tony's words, takes a deep breath, filling up your bottle and continuing to shake it. "Want me to come cheer her up with you?" Steve sighs, "Let us calm her down a bit, get her feeling right and we'll play some games later yeah?" Tony starts to rummage through the fridge, "Have Friday notify me." Steve nods, leaving Tony and going back to his baby.

When he opens the door, you're still crying, but when Steve sits he pulls you into his lap, holding you like a baby and rocking you. "Shhh, it's okay baby, I know they were mean, but papa's here now. It's okay," he's rubbing your face gently, your sobs turned to weak whimpers. "That's it baby, you want some milk?" You nuzzle into his chest, Bucky taking a sip of the bottle making sure it's not too hot and gives it back to Steve. He holds the tip to your lips, you instantly wrap your lips around it and hum happily.

"There she is, sweet girl," his fingers tangle in your hair, massaging your scalp gently while Bucky rubs your legs with a feather light touch. You hiccup on the milk, Steve moving it away from you and wiping away a stray tear. Your fingers clutch around his shoulder, whining, "Papa." He coos at you, "Drinking too fast aren't we love?" You let out another whine, your bottom lip wobbling, "Pease papa." He traces your jawline before bringing the bottle back to your lips, "Slower, you hear me dove?" You nod gently, closing your eyes and continuing to drink the bottle.

You're teetering on the edge of sleep, Steve wiping away a drop of milk that finds its way to the corner of your mouth. He takes the bottle very carefully, stopping when you suck on it a little harder, trying to hold it in your mouth. "Bunny," Bucky's voice sings to you, "let daddy have that, okay?" Steve tries to pull it away again, this time with no fight, Bucky pressing your pacifier to your lips, which you take happily. He clips it to the top of your pajama shirt so if you drop it, it'll stay relatively within reach. "Friday, put on munchkins lullaby playlist."

Soft music starts playing through the room, bringing you all the way under, soft snores against Steves chest alerting them to your slumber. "Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton are outside, requesting entrance." Bucky rolls his eyes as he slides back down into the bed, "Friday, decline entrance and leave us be to nap for an hour." Steve moves you to Bucky, your sleeping form habitually wrapping around him and his warmth. Steve huddles behind you, wrapping his arm over you and resting it on Bucky, rubbing small circles. "She's gonna be a handful today," Steve comments, letting Bucky know that he thinks today is going to be one of those days where you regress further than usual. "She's gonna have such a good time with Tony." Bucky laughs, his eyes flutter shut, "Don't count her daddies short."

[archived-kin]

arcade date with levi (with a twist)

note from kin: the twist is that, rather than just meeting up and going to an arcade for a date, you and levi are actually characters from two different games in the arcade that come to life at night and go on cute romantic hijinks together! (wreck-it-ralph au essentially)

you, simeon, and luke are from a battle game, levi and his brothers are from a side scrolling platformer, solomon is the tutorial dude in an experimental alchemy game, diavolo is the owner of the arcade, and barbatos is the janitor! your character’s costume is basically the same as caesar’s from jojo’s bizarre adventure, and you’re kind of the pseudo-leader of your game’s characters

fandom: obey me!

character(s): gn!reader, leviathan, luke, simeon, lucifer, solomon

pairing(s): levi/reader

warning(s): guns, non-descriptive injury

genre: fluff

“Lights out!”

You cheer and hop out of your character selection box, stretching out your cramped limbs, then sitting down with a huff. Beside you, Simeon falls out onto the floor in a tangled heap of cape.

“Thank goodness,” He sighs, turning around and lying flat on his back. “Is it just me, or were our patrons picking me far more than usual today…?”

Luke carefully slides out of his own box, landing neatly on his feet with a little flourish. “Yeah, normally [Name]’s the crowd favourite…”

“It’s all those new promotional posters, I bet,” You hum, pulling off your headband and fanning yourself with one hand. “Seems like Diavolo’s really been pushing the angel series lately.”

“I wouldn’t call it a series,” Simeon says, chuckling slightly as he undoes his fancy cape. “There’s only two of us, after all.”

“Well, you’re the only ones out of us who actually have a theme between them,” says another one of your fellow fighters, taking off his hat and twirling it around a finger. “Anyway - [Name], shouldn’t you be going off to meet that loverboy of yours soon?”

“Oh, right!” You jump to your feet, dusting off your pants. Then you pause, raising your hands to pat at your face. “Wait, do my triangles look okay?”

“Your triangles look fine,” Simeon sighs, reaching over and tapping fondly at the little patches of paint on your cheek. “They always do.”

“Alright!” You adjust your scarf and throw the ends over your shoulder, tying your headband around your wrist. “I’ll be off, then! You guys know the drill, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, boss,” calls one of the younger fighters, hunched over in front of his box and scratching restlessly at the tip of his nose. “Not like we haven’t been doing it every day.”

“Don’t get cheeky,” You scold, but give his pompadour an affectionate pat on your way past anyway. It feels almost concerningly solid beneath your touch. “I’ll be back before morning!”

Your fellow fighters give a collective murmur of assent that’s abruptly cut off as you open the network door and hop into a wire. You’ve gone on this path so many times that it’s practically muscle memory at this point - six sections ahead, then to the left twice, a right at the purple junction, and then another four sections forwards.

The Tale of the Seven Lords’s network door is already open when you jump out of the wire, and the first thing you see when you poke your head in is Lucifer polishing one of the transport tubes used to get between levels. He’s discarded the fancy coat that he has to wear all the time as part of his character costume, and you don’t blame him - you couldn’t imagine even just running for five minutes or so with that one, let alone jumping about and punching at things for about fifteen minutes at a time, often longer.

“Lovely evening, Lucifer,” You greet brightly. He pauses in his work for a moment, then turns to look at you.

You’ve never gotten the feeling that he particularly likes you, but you’ve been trying your best to stay on his good side - after all, one must need the eldest’s blessing to date one of their younger brother. And your efforts must have paid off, too, because the corner of his mouth actually lifts slightly when he sees you grinning at him around the side of the door.

“[Name],” He says with a nod. “Levi’s up on Level Six.”

“Right!” You skip inside and shut the door behind you. “Good day?”

“About as good as it can get, I suppose,” He sighs, and you silently cheer. Willing small talk - that’s progress! “Most of our players for today picked either Belphie or Satan, so I got to take a break of sorts.”

You’ll never understand why some of characters in this arcade dislike actually being played so much - after all, isn’t that your entire purpose? Still, if Lucifer’s happy about not being picked, you’ll be happy for him as well. “That’s good!”

“Indeed,” He says, allowing a rare proper smile. He pulls back from the transport tube. “Up you go, then. Levi’s been restless all day - excited, no doubt.”

“He’s so cute,” You coo, adjusting your headband around your wrist to make sure it doesn’t slip off. “We go on dates all the time, but he’s still just as enthusiastic every time.”

“As Asmo likes to say, I suppose that each date should be just as exciting as the first,” Lucifer says evenly as you hop up into the transport tube, taking care not to get the freshly-polished metal grubby. “At any rate… Levi seems to be happy. So I suppose you must be doing something right.”

“What a wonder, right?” You reply with a laugh, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up. “I’ll have him back before first light. Promise.”

“If you say so,” He says dryly, and stands back as the transport tube sends you up.

Just as Lucifer said, Levi is bustling about on Level Six, accompanied by Belphie, who’s having a whale of a time snoozing on one of the platforms and letting his brother do all the work restocking the power-up bricks. Levi abruptly straightens up as soon as you pop out of the transport tube, as if he can sense your presence immediately, and turns to see you waving happily up at him.

His face immediately lights up, and he hops down from the brick he’s standing on with a goofy jump sound effect, landing beside you with a slightly wobbly grin. Slightly out of breath, he greets, “Hi.”

“Hi,” You repeat back to him, kissing his cheek. From up on his platform, Belphie makes an exaggerated retching noise.

Levi absent-mindedly chucks an inactive supersize star behind him at the sound, and it hits Belphie directly in the forehead with a high-pitched ping, sending him toppling backwards off the platform. Luckily, fall damage isn’t programmed into this game, so he lands on his back with nothing but his pride hurt.

“Ready to go?” You ask, disregarding the rather thunderous-looking brother behind your partner. Levi nods eagerly.

“Yeah! Belphie can take the rest of my bricks. He’s barely done anything so far.”

“It’s not my fault so many people picked me today,” Belphie groans, getting up and catching the rest of the power-ups that Levi tosses his way. “I’m tired…”

“You’re always tired,” Levi replies, shaking his head. “Get Beel to do it if you’re so desperate to sleep.”

“Maybe I will,” is Belphie’s final retort before you and Levi disappear back down the transport tube.

Passing Lucifer at Level One again, the two of you slip out through the network door and hop into the wires. Your destination today is the Suspect Sorceror’s abode - one of your regular date spots, and one of your particular favourites.

Despite the fact that the two of you see each other pretty much every day as soon as it’s lights out, there’s always a fresh kind of thrill to the prospect of spending time with Levi, no matter how much you do. It’s kind of like your heart grows wings every time you’re around him - you can’t help but feel all light and fluttery inside.

You’ve never felt this way about anyone - heck, you didn’t even know it was possible for you to feel like this! Every character in this arcade is programmed with a set personality that’s simply impossible to break away from. In some cases, some characters are reduced to such one-dimensional traits that they can only ever respond to anything with one of a predictable and very limited number of possible reactions.

Incidentally, your code has established you as a rather boisterous and confident person who doesn’t always think before they punch, while Levi’s has always dictated him as rather self-conscious and insecure, but passionate about his interests. Neither of you have ever been programmed with anything close to the sort of AI that would be required for you to develop your own feelings separate of your codes - and yet, somehow, you have.

You’ve never pretended to understand your own existence. You’ve not very smart, after all; where your programmers gave you excellent fighting spirit and leadership skills and an unwavering sense of determined justice, they seem to have forgotten to give you very many brain cells. Even so, you’re fully aware of the impossibility of the nature of yours and Levi’s relationship.

Still, your philosophy has always been that worrying about the little things never benefits anyone in the long run. Well, this might not be a little thing, but if there’s anything you’re good at, it’s goofing off to avoid getting too dismal.

You hop out of the wire as soon you’ve reach your destination, landing neatly on your feet with your arms spread wide in a rather flamboyant flourish. Levi scrambles to follow suit, but loses his balance on his way out and immediately starts heading directly for the floor; you quickly dart forward and catch him by the arms.

Levi’s panicked eyes dart up to meet your own, and before you’re even fully aware of what you’re doing, you deftly lift him into the air and give him a smooth twirl, then set him on solid ground once more. His knees immediately nearly give out beneath him, and you have to reach forward to catch him again before he takes a tumble.

“Wh-wh-wh—” Levi’s entire face is a bright, burning red. You’re pretty sure you can actually see smoke coming out of his ears. “You— huh?”

It’s just about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen; you can’t help but lean forward to plant a kiss on the very tip of his nose. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to have been the right move, because Levi immediately goes stock still, then abruptly slaps his hands to his face.

“You alright?” You ask, crouching down with him as he slowly sinks down to the ground, practically steaming. You can’t help but laugh, feeling a little bad for flustering him so much. “Caught you off-guard, huh? Sorry.”

Levi shakes his head silently, then finally pulls his hands away from his face. His blush has calmed somewhat - it had been so aggressive that it almost looked like a rash before, but now it’s more of a sort of reddish dust - and he’s looking you in the eyes again.

“Y-y-you can’t just do stuff like that out of nowhere,” He says finally, leaning forward and dropping his forehead on your shoulder. “I have to prepare myself first…”

“Aw, that’s no fun,” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and rock him back and forth slightly. “You'll get used to it eventually!”

“You’re going to give me a heart attack,” He mumbles into the sleeve of your jacket, though you do notice that he’s deliberately pressing himself closer to you. “Well, you would if I had a heart.”

“You’re so cute,” You chuckle, pressing another kiss to the crown of his head. “C’mon, we’ve still got a date to finish!”

You give Levi another five minutes or so to get his face back to its usual colour and calm himself down, and he’s pretty much back to normal by the time the two of you step hand-in-hand into Solomon’s little alchemy hut - you with a wide grin on your face and him with a slightly shaky smile. Unfortunately, it seems that date night isn’t going to be going smoothly today, because Solomon is currently being held at gun-point by a character you’ve never seen before.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” crows the strange little man, brandishing one of his two revolvers in yours and Levi’s direction. You instinctively step in front of your partner, steeling your fists in case you need to fight. “Two lovebirds, is it?”

“Evening,” Solomon greets, not looking in the least bit fazed by the barrel he’s currently staring down.

“Who's this?” You ask in reply.

Solomon sighs and leans forward on his counter, ignoring the threatening click of the gun that the little man has pointed at him. “He’s from that shoot-em-up game a couple consoles down. No idea why he’s decided to show up here.”

You wrinkle your nose, reaching behind you to give Levi a reassuring tap on the arm before stepping forward. The little man watches you cautiously, keeping one gun carefully trained directly on your head.

“Your bullets aren’t going to work on me,” You say matter-of-factly. “I haven’t been programmed to take damage when a bullet hits me.”

“Won’t work on you, eh?” He raises an eyebrow. “How about your beau over there?”

You narrow your eyes. “He isn’t any of your business.”

Of course, you know full well that Levi’s game features projectiles that he certainly takes damage from, and while you don’t know if that extends to bullets from this man’s guns, you don’t want to risk it. You, on the other hand, have only ever taken damage from the punches and kicks your fellow fighters throw at you - or the beams of light Simeon and Luke shoot for their respective ultimates.

The man grins, and you note that he’s missing one of his front teeth. “So you won’t mind if I just fire a little bit at him—”

Your arm shoots forward before you even fully register it, and the man careens backwards with a cry as your fist lands directly in his face. The gun he’d been raising to point at Levi clatters to the floor and lets out a shot into one of the walls; Solomon winces.

“You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you?” You scowl, striding forward and planting a foot on the little man’s stomach. He struggles under your boot’s heel, cursing. “First you spoil our date, and now you’re threatening my partner. You’re really starting to piss me off.”

“If you’re going to start a fight, take it outside,” Solomon intervenes, shaking his head. “I’ve got far too many glass bottles in here to risk letting you have a battle in here.”

“Doesn’t matter where I fight as long as I get a good punch in,” You smirk, folding your arms across your chest slightly and glaring down at the man as he scrabbles at your boot, attempting to wrench it off of him. “So, what’ll it be? Either you get your guns and scram, or we can brawl right here and now.”

The man responds by reaching to grab the gun he’d been aiming at Solomon earlier and firing a shot at your face. You jerk back in surprise, foot lifting, and he immediately scrambles out from beneath your foot, pointing up at you with a gleeful laugh.

“See how you like that!” He exclaims. “Not so cocky now, huh?”

You slowly reach up to press your fingers to where the bullet struck you, directly in the forehead. Solomon raises an eyebrow, while Levi calls out your name frantically, stepping forward with his hands outstretched.

You shake your head as the man laughs, holding up a hand to stop Levi. “Stay there. I’ve got this under control.”

“Huh?” The man’s grin fades as you pass your hand over the hole, only for it to be gone when your hand moves away. “What the—?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” You ask, looming over him as he frantically attempts to back away. He gulps, fumbling with his gun, but before he can try to fire another round, you knock the gun out of his hand with a swift punch. “Your bullets don’t work on me, pal.”

He turns as if to run, but your leg immediately darts out to trip him, and he tumbles forward onto the boards of Solomon’s hut with a muffled yell. This time you plant your foot directly on his neck, setting a single hand on your hip.

“I’m only going to say this once,” You begin, staring him dead in the eyes. “So listen up - got it?”

The man attempts to protest, but your heel only presses harder into his throat, and he has no choice but to give his gurgled assent. You smile, but it’s a menacing expression.

“This game is under my protection,” You say firmly. “You don’t come in here and start threatening to shoot up the place - and you most definitely don’t point the gun at my partner. Got it?”

He gurgles again. You nod in satisfaction. “Then we’re all in understanding here. Now scram.”

You lift your foot, and he immediately fumbles to get to his feet. You stay on your toes, prepared for him to attempt to go for his guns again, but he only gives you one last terrified look before turning and booking it out the door, tail between his legs.

You stare after him at the swinging door. The hut is silent for a moment more.

Finally, Levi says, eyes wide, “I think that was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

[keanureevesisbae]

But professor… - c.8

Summary: Walter and Penny adapt to Maryland

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: None

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter //

Tomorrow Walter and I are going to move to Maryland and there is just one more thing I need to do: buy some snacks. My cravings have been all over the place recently, so a trip without snack is asking for trouble. Walter is packing the final things with my mom and dad and in a minute they are going to put everything in the truck and U-haul. Since I’m the only one that knows what I really want, I decided to go on a little grocery store trip.

I’m wearing an oversized sweater on top of my leggings and it’s almost the only piece of clothing that is able to hide the bump. I’m seventeen weeks pregnant now, meaning the bump is harder and harder to hide, however this sweater will do. The chances of me running into someone I actually know is next to zero, but better be safe than sorry.

I walk into the grocery store and grab a basket, slowly filling it with what I want. ‘There she is,’ I hear a voice say, one I haven’t heard in so long and certainly haven’t missed.

Fitzgerald.

Every hair in my neck stands up straight. I simply pull my lips into an awkward smile, before walking off to the register. As I’m scanning the products, he actually follows me and I hate how this guy never understands the message, spoken or unspoken.

‘So, you haven’t been coming to classes,’ he says.

‘I know,’ I say, ‘I quit. Been looking into some other things.’

That is already more than I actually wanted to share with him, but hopefully it’s enough to make him go away.

‘Oh really? What you been looking into?’

Just fuck off, Fitzgerald. ‘First of all moving back home,’ I say, packing everything in my bag. ‘New York never really was the place for me.’ After paying for my snacks, I walk out of the store, only to hear the footsteps of the guy who just won’t leave me alone following behind me.

‘Did you hear that professor Marshall is quitting?’

Yes, I actually helped him writing his resignation letter. ‘Oh,’ I say, ‘I didn’t.’

‘Apparently he got a job offer somewhere else.’

Yep, in Maryland. ‘Good for him,’ I say. ‘Well, I gotta go. Bye, Fitzgerald.’

He wants to say something, but then his eyes widen. ‘Yeah, bye,’ he says. He quickly turns around and is gone by the time I looked over my shoulder at him.

What was that about?

When I look up, I glare at Walter, who is standing on the other side of the road, leaning against a street light, his arms crossed. I walk up to him and without saying a word at first, we get mixed into the crowd. ‘What was that about?’ I ask him.

‘Nothing,’ he says, a little too nonchalant for my liking, ‘just wanted to make sure that you weren’t carrying anything too heavy.’ He pulls the bags from my hands and adds: ‘I hate that snotty kid.’

‘I had everything under control,’ I say, poking his side. ‘Did you see him scooting away?’

‘I wish I had it on video,’ Walter chuckles.

My parents are already in the U-haul they rented to make moving as quickly and easy as possible for us and I hand them some snacks.

‘Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re moving back,’ mom says, after our final pee. Walter just handed over the key to the realtor of his loft and stands behind me, before he says: ‘I know I am happy to move to Maryland. I quite love the place already.’ He presses a kiss on my temple.

My parents get in the U-haul and I wave to them as they drive off. Walter helps me in the truck and when he sits next to me, he gives me a kiss. ‘I love you,’ he tells me.

‘I love you too, Walter.’ I take off my sweater, before strapping myself in the seatbelt. ‘It’s ridiculously hot in here,’ I say, leaning back against the seat.

‘Twenty bucks you are gonna be cold within half an hour.’

I glare at him. ‘That’s mean.’

‘Ah, princess, don’t pout. You know how that makes me weak.’ I continue to tut my bottom lip out and he chuckles. ‘Let’s just hope the baby doesn’t get your pout, because otherwise I can never say no.’

‘No matter what the baby looks like,’ I say, ‘you’re gonna be unable to say no anyway. You are such a push over with me, this baby will wrap you around their finger in no time.’

‘Ai, exposed.’ He holds my hand in his as he drives off and gives me a kiss on my knuckles.

‘You thought about the co sleeping thing I mentioned to you?’ I ask him.

He sighs. ‘Yes and I’m not sure about it. I mean, we could place a crib in our room, right?’

‘But that’s so sad for the baby. To be alone like that after living inside my stomach for so long. What if they don’t be to be alone? They are not gonna sleep in our bed forever, Walter.’

‘I know,’ he says, ‘but… what if I crush them? I mean, they would be in between us, so… That means no sleep for me.’

I start to laugh. ‘That was your worry? Oh, Walter.’ Since I’m already close to him, I wrap my arms around his neck to give him a kiss on his cheek. ‘Aren’t you absolutely darling?’

I actually spot a faint blush on his cheeks.

I decide not to push it any further, because I feel like this co sleep thing is something that needs to simmer for awhile. ‘Can I ask a question?’ I ask.

He nods. ‘Of course.’

‘What if something goes wrong,’ I start, but he is having none of it.

‘No, no, no, nothing is gonna go wrong.’

‘But what if?’ I say. ‘I mean, something could go wrong during birth.’

He clenches his jaw, not wanting to talk about it obviously. ‘I see,’ he mumbles.

‘What I wanted to say was that if I am unable to answer, that you should decide what happens, okay? I’m one hundred percent sure you are going to choose the right thing for us.’

He smiles. ‘That’s what you wanted to tell me?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Oh, princess, princess, don’t scare me like that, okay?’

I smile. ‘Sorry.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Walter and I bought a house and never in a million years did I expect to have this type of domestic life at only twenty one, however it’s exactly the life I have now and I wouldn’t change it for the world. The move from New York and Maryland went pretty swiftly, especially because my parents helped a lot, since it’s only twenty minutes from my parents’ place.

The place we chose was already pretty great, but Walter and I decided—okay, I decided—that some wallpaper should cheer it up. It was a lot of white and it made me feel like I was at a dentist. There’s lots of pastel going on now, mint green, baby blue, soft pink and some yellow.

However, Walter did all the work, because he doesn’t want me to do anything. Too much work can’t be good for the baby, princess.

He now works at the Maryland Police Department and he is actually enjoying it a lot. He now is on patrol duties, but it will only take a few months before he is back as a detective again.

Weeks have gone by and today marks me being twenty seven weeks pregnant. I won’t lie about it, but I’m very over this pregnancy already. Everything hurts. My head hurts, my stomach hurts, my boobs hurts and don’t get me started on my back. I’m mostly sitting on the couch, reading both informative books and novels if I’m not mindlessly watching Netflix shows.

I am a horrendous cook, but I continue to try some things for Walter, because I hate it that he has to both work and cook himself some dinner when he’s off.

Walter comes back from work and smiles when he sees me. ‘There is my beautiful woman,’ he says. ‘Princess, princess, aren’t you gorgeous.’

‘Stop,’ I chuckle, trying to get up from the couch, but fail miserably. ‘I’m sorry, but dinner got burned.’

He smiles. ‘That’s okay, princess. I’ll order some take out, don’t you worry.’

‘I’m really useless,’ I admit. ‘I’m so sorry.’

He scoffs. ‘Don’t say stuff like that. You’re never useless.’ He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against his side. ‘Tell me what did you do today?’

‘I went to that meeting,’ I say, ‘talked about being a first time mom. It’s just that…’ I place my head against his shoulder. ‘I’m scared.’

‘Why is that, princess?’

‘What if I’m a terrible mom?’

‘You’re not gonna be a terrible mom,’ he retorts. ‘The audacity to think you’re gonna be a terrible mom, when I know that you are nothing but sweet, kind, lovely and you will be a wonderful mom.’

‘Really?’ I ask.

‘Really, darling.’ He places his hand on my stomach and says: ‘It’s okay to be scared, however, you have nothing to worry about. Not when I am right here for the two of you.’

✎ ✎ ✎

The next day, while my mom and I are folding some baby clothes, we watch dad and Walter finish the crib. Mom has been sharing embarrassing baby stories about me and to make things even worse, my dad adds a few stories to it, some I didn’t even know.

Thankfully Walter really enjoys them, because he chuckles loudly. It took him awhile, but he is really liking it, having my parents around.

‘You really don’t want to know the gender?’ mom asks me.

‘No,’ I say, ‘I like to be surprised.’

‘Walter,’ my mom sighs, ‘can’t you talk some sense into her?’

‘Sorry, CC,’ he says, ‘but I kinda like the surprise too.’

She scoffs, before she lets out a chuckle. The baby already made the bond between my parents and I a lot tighter and for that I’m forever grateful.

I resit a little and Walter wouldn’t be Walter if he didn’t notice immediately I was slightly uncomfortable. ‘Princess, are you okay?’

‘Yeah, just my back hurts.’

‘How about you go to bed?’ Walter suggests. ‘Rest a little? You’ve been up pretty early on.’ When I don’t stand up immediately, he walks over to me and crouches down in front of me. ‘What’s wrong, princess?’

‘Nothing, just tired and in pain, that’s all.’

He nods, pulls me up and holds my hand tightly in his. I want to apologize to my parents, but my mom simply tells me not to worry. ‘Pregnancy can be rough, darling,’ she says, ‘so please don’t worry.’

I wonder if it’s hard for my mom to see me pregnant, when she couldn’t get pregnant herself. She never said it to me, but still I wonder from time to time. Even if she does have some hard feelings against it, she never shows it, as she is super supportive of the pregnancy. I give her a kiss, just like I give my dad a kiss and mom says: ‘Walter, did you even sleep last night?’

‘No, this one woke me up,’ he says with a smile.

‘You should sleep as well. You had a late shift the day before yesterday and you two should get a lot of sleep when you can. When the baby is here, she’ll keep you up.’

‘We really don’t know the gender, mom,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘I don’t know if they are gonna be a he or a she.’

‘Worth a shot, you gotta give me that. Okay, you go rest, we finish up in here and let ourselves out. We love you.’

‘Love you too,’ I say back, before Walter and I walk towards the bedroom. He helps me out of my sweatpants and into the bed. I hug the pregnancy pillow, and the bed dips down a bit when Walter gets underneath the thin blanket behind me. He places his hand on my stomach, before kissing my temple. ‘You comfortable, sweetheart?’

‘I am,’ I whisper. ‘I’m sorry I’m keeping you up.’

‘No, don’t do that.’

It only causes me to sniffle, but Walter knows exactly what to do when I have these slight emotional outbursts. He pulls my back closer against his chest, despite him being very warm, he tugs the blankets over our bodies and warms me up even more, giving me more kisses on the side of my face. ‘It can get pretty rough, princess,’ he says, ‘and that’s okay. Just let it all out, okay?’

‘Why are you so sweet?’ I hiccup.

He chuckles. ‘Well, you’re gonna be the mom of our kid and you’re my girlfriend. Of course I’m gonna be sweet to you. Forever and ever, princess. Forever and ever.’

[teacup-crow]

Maybe, Maybe, Maybe

Fun bit of survivors’ guilt for @badthingshappenbingo, based pretty heavily off Don’t Poke the Bear and Variations on a Theme. Post-finale.

They take it in turns to keep watch for when he wakes up: Doug, Reneé, Isabel, first names still such a novelty. Just his luck, he opens his eyes to the impassive face of Captain Lovelace.

“Hi, dickbag. Sore head?”

“Unnnnhh…” he whines as if he’s lying under a ton of rocks rather than a cosy quilt on Renee’s living room floor. His face is a patchwork of bruising. “Aspirin?”

She takes pity, and passes him two and a glass of water. The sitting up takes longer than he thought it would.

“You look terrible. Lucky for you, Renee makes a mean chilli con carne. Never would have guessed she could cook.”

“No thanks, I should, should be going-”

“You need food in your system, that’s non-negotiable. First thing’s first, though, you’re having a shower, and you either go willingly or get dragged bodily, because you goddamn stink. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbles automatically, and he remembers the Colonel - Warren? Was it on a day he could call him Warren? - once saying something similar and his head pounds. ((“mr jacobi, of all the irresponsible, stupid shit i have seen from you this really takes the-“))

“Bathroom’s on the second floor, just past the master bedroom. Dominick put a pile of clean clothes in there before he left for work. And it’s Isabel, okay? Not sir. Not Captain. Never again.”

***

“Who did this to you?”

He grips his mug of sweet tea like it’s thousand dollar whiskey. He’s still ashen. “I did this to me.”

“You beat the shit out of yourself? Okay, yeah. Don’t buy that one.” Isabel repeats the question. “Who did this to you?”

“Just some guys I pissed off. I don’t know how many. I don’t know who. Happy now?”

The room goes silent. Isabel continues:

“And did you go provoking them deliberately?”

Not for the first time, Renee wonders whether they should have included Doug in this little intervention. He’s been through so much just like the rest of them, but he doesn’t know it, and he’s clearly freaking out at the situation.

“Why would he want something like that to happen? He looks terrible!”

“I don’t know, Doug,” Isabel says levelly. “Care to answer, Jacobi?”

He’s not on a first name basis, apparently.

“Not… I didn’t... no. No, no, no. I was too drunk and… picking fights, but suddenly there were too many of them, okay? But I got out. And if I want to drink then that’s my own problem, so thank you for the hospitality but-“

Renee cuts in there. “When you drink yourself into a stupor, get attacked by a gang in a back alley, and stumble into my doorway at 0300 hours after six months of radio silence, it becomes our problem.” Her look of pity makes his stomach churn even more than the chilli did. He breathes in, hold, out; in, hold, out; in-((alana’s breathing technique and why why why is she everywhere in everything why does he have to see her out of the corner of his eye when it’s been so long he can’t properly remember her face-))

“Fine. What do you want from me?”

“You are a good man and you saved every single one of our lives and we need to understand why you’re so intent on throwing yours away.”

Jacobi starts laughing then, guttural laughs that worsen the ache in his head and bones but he can’t seem to stop them. “...me? I’m a good man? Oh my God, Lieutenant, that’s hilarious. Give us another.”

“You need to take this seriously! This is a form of self harm! You could have died!” Isabel is pacing up and down. She and Renee do good cop, bad cop like it’s a professional sport.

“Boo fucking hoo. And the world would forever be worse off for my passing.”

Isabel stops, and turns back towards him with some heat in her gaze. “I have lost too many crew members who deserved to die far less than you do. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? Do you need me to reconfirm that you are a an asshole? Do you need to hear about how Fisher, and Hui, and Fourier, and Lambert were all far better people than you will ever, ever be? Or will you accept that you are good in there? That deep down you’re on the right-“

“We burned their letters.” He’s staring at the duvet he’s wrapped in, running his finger over the flowers on the pattern. “Okay? Still think I’m a good person?”

“...wait. What?” She laughs a little, in shock perhaps. “But you told me…”

“I told you what I needed to tell you to make you trust me. We burned your crew’s letters. Lambert’s… I remember those especially. His hands were shaking really hard when he wrote them, weren’t they.”

It’s not a question.

Isabel stops pacing, and Jacobi grins again but it doesn’t reach his bruised eyes when he looks up at her. “More than mine, even. You could tell he was sick. They didn’t make any sense. We laughed at them. The irony of a Communications Officer who can’t communicate. Are you listening to me? We read their letters and we burned them and we laughed about it-“

Renee loses her softness. “Jacobi, that is enough!”

Isabel has a hand on her chest as if something has hit her there. She counts to ten in her head, ((fisher’s technique to try and stop her fighting with sam, never worked but still stuck in her head, or this copy of her head, or whoever she is now-)) and leaves the room.

They hear her slamming drawers in the kitchen.

Doug glances at Jacobi and shakes his head, before hurrying after her.

“How could you,” Reneé says. “How could you.”

“I don’t know. Will you let me go and ruin my own life now?”

“Never,” she replies. “Because, God help me, you’re still a member of my crew.”

At that, his eyes prick with tears he can’t explain. He rolls over on the air bed, and closes them.

***

“Lovelace?” Jacobi finally makes himself walk into the kitchen, grimacing like each step is on hot sand. The words are monotone. “I’m so sorry. What I did and said is... inexcusable.”

“Nope. That’s too large a word for your vocabulary. Come back to me with an apology Renée didn’t script,” Isabel snaps, going back to scribbling in a sketchbook.

“Look, I’m not much good at this-“

“You’re telling me.”

“I’m… really used to people yelling at me and hitting me until they feel better. Or you can shoot me if you like!”

“Jesus. Well, I am not about to do that to ease your guilt. You look like you’d snap if one more person poked you. So apologise properly.”

“I’m sorry…”

“For?” Isabel prompts over the top of her book.

“I’m sorry for burning your crew’s letters.”

“You did what you were ordered to do. It is what it is. I’m not condoning it.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Jacobi realises she’s waiting for him to continue. “And… I’m sorry for bringing it up. That was… needlessly cruel. It sucked.”

“It really did,” she replies, putting the book down. “Tell you what: that sounded somewhat genuine, and Goddard brought out the shit in all of us. You look so pathetic, I’m going to forgive you. Not because you deserve it, but because I don’t bear grudges. Not anymore.”

She holds out a hand, and he shakes it. “Thank you.”

“Wow. That actually hurt for you to say.”

Jacobi nods. He sits down across from her at Renée’s huge darkwood table, and thinks about how she and Dominick must have bought this when they moved in together with plans to have people over for dinner every other night. Maybe even plans to have kids.

He wonders if Dominick ate at it alone while his wife was gone.

“So, you gone on that holiday yet?”

“No, actually. I’ve legally been dead for about seven years, so getting a passport is proving pretty tricky.”

“I can imagine.”

“Where have you been, anyway? We tried to get into contact with you. We drove down to your old apartment - got your address from the Goddard database - but it was cleaned out.”

Jacobi looks sheepish. “Yeah, well, I’d mostly been staying at Alana’s for the last few years or overnight at… yeah… so I’d not been a very good tenant and turns out they took ‘lost in space’ as the perfect opportunity to kick me out. So I’ve been sofa to sofa, on the streets a bit-”

“For heaven’s sake, Jacobi. We would have helped you, you stupid asshole! All you had to do was ask and you could have stayed here! Renee and Dominick would probably even let you have a cheese collection or whatever the fuck it was.”

“Guess the amount of drinks it takes for me to lose my pride is somewhere over eighteen?”

“How do you have a functioning liver?”

They sit in an almost comfortable silence for a few minutes, Isabel reopening her sketchbook.

“I never knew you drew.”

“You never knew me outside of a life-threatening situation.” Isabel sighs, twists the pencil between her fingers. “I don’t think I did. Before. The old ‘me’, I mean. But I was bored and I can’t get a job because of the ‘being dead’ issue, so I thought I should take up a hobby or something. Might be therapeutic. I’m not very good at it…”

“Can I see?”

“I, uh,” Isabel suddenly looks uncertain. “I drew her. Maxwell. I drew everyone, actually. Are you sure you want to look?”

“Yes.”

He leafs through the pages, at first simple doodles before branching into full portraits. Eiffel, upside down and smoking a cigarette. Hilbert, looking troubled at a shadow behind him he can’t quite see. Two ghostlike figures in lab coats staring out at the star, the man with a prophetic terror etched on his face - must be Isabel’s old crewmates. Mr Cutter smiles up at him with far too many sharp teeth in sharper lines where the pencil was pressed far too hard and he turns the page quickly. There’s Kepler, mid-whiskey speech and it almost stops his heart. He pauses. Maxwell.

In the picture, her eyes are shining as she stares at Hera’s console, fingers nothing more than a blur - the three-day stint she spent trying to get the AI online. Aside from the orange and blue of Wolf 359, elsewhere in the book Isabel has barely used colour, but here the room is bathed in a serene green light from the screens. Behind Maxwell, Jacobi sees himself, little more than a stocky, sketchy outline, waiting for her to finish.

He looks so proud of her.

He looks so… content.

After staring for a long moment, Jacobi closes the book and hands it back. “Thank you.”

“You can keep the pictures of them, if you like,” Isabel offers, but he doesn’t know whether he would like, so he says:

“Tell me about your crew.”

“What?”

“Your old crew. Tell me about them. Was Lambert the one staring at...?”

“No. No. No, that was Kuan Hui, our senior astrophysicist. He was whipsmart and funny and fearless, until the time Goddard Futuristics played around in his brain, stretched out his perception of time. He was completely alone in the dark for two weeks. His smile never really reached his eyes after that.”

Jacobi sips tea awkwardly, even though it’s cold.

“Something like that, it stays with you. At least he had Fourier, though.”

“That’s the woman behind him?”

“Junior physicist. Victoire Fourier had eyes like stars. Cleverest person I’ve ever met. She played six instruments, spoke four languages and she had the most gentle soul. She used to read to Hui when he got sick with Decima. Coughed up every organ in his body. I thought it would break her, but she was made of stern stuff. She vanished off the space station in the final days and I still don’t know what exactly happened to her-”

“I… do. If you want to know, I mean.”

Isabel shakes her head. Then pauses. Then shakes her head again. “I get the feeling whoever is to blame is long gone.”

Jacobi shrugs. “Who else?”

“Well, there was Mace Fisher. Fisher… Fisher died because of me, not Goddard Futuristics. Asteroid shower tore him from my hands. He had a boyfriend waiting at home. He was sensitive, sensible, grounding. A real older brother type. I- I didn’t deal particularly well with his death. Well, you know that much.”

((Pill popper!)) Jacobi gulps more cold tea.

“And Lambert?”

“Sam Lambert. Officer Samuel Lambert had a stick up his ass. He was whiny, and authoritarian, and he treasured his copy of Pryce and Carter more than Reneé and Kepler combined did. He drove me nearly insane, and I drove him likewise. The best second in command you could ask for. A damn good man. Sam got sick after Hui, so we knew what was coming. What it meant. He was brave, though. At first.”

((“C-Captain, please shoot me, please, it hurts, it hurts, Captain, please, I just want it to-”)

She falters.

“Lovelace?”

“Yup?”

“You know, it’s not even really about the Hephaestus. I keep… it’s insane, but I keep thinking about… I was an explosives guy for the Air Force. Before Goddard. A trigger failed and two men died. Andrews and Sullivan. I haven’t thought about them in years and suddenly-“

“They’re everywhere?”

There’s a sudden understanding between them.

“They’re everywhere. Them and Maxwell and Kepler. They’re in mirrors, in the back of my brain, around corners.”

“Flashes of them.”

“And if you just reach out far enough, maybe-“

“Maybe-“

“Maybe.”

((let’s go be monsters)), Jacobi’s brain echoes. He grits his teeth.

“Did it stop for you? When does it stop?” He finds himself asking. Isabel doesn’t answer.

[nancywheelxr]

based on yet another genius conversation @ptadadwenkexing and i had that basically started with: “what if Ye Baiyi adopted Wen Kexing after his parents died?” and then spiraled from there

*

in a city sorrow built

[before]

The world is a foggy forest.

Or, perhaps, a murky swamp, but Zhen Yan has never seen a swamp before, he doesn’t think. All he knows is that his head feels stuffy and it hurts so much. Like he’s on fire. Like when he tripped and skinned his knee except it’s burning everywhere.

When did he skin his–

He can’t think, it’s so hot in here, and it hurts, and–

There are voices around him. Is the Ghost King back? Anger sparks somewhere beneath the hurt, but fear does too, so much of it, and Zhen Yan wants his mom, wants to go home, wants– 

The arms holding him shift and even through the haze, he curls up further, fingers grasping uselessly at robes. “Luo-yi,” he tries to say, feeling tears gathering up in his eyes– she can’t leave too, she can’t, please, don’t leave him alone, please–

“Shhhh,” her voice comes from above, a finger sweeping over his brow even as he’s passed to another set of arms, “it’ll be okay, you won’t remember this.”

“And you think he’ll thank you for that?” This voice, Zhen Yan doesn’t recognize, it sounds cold and harsh, and he wants to push away, but his body feels heavy and so far away, and thinking too hard hurts, so he can’t do anything, except–

*

The next time he surfaces, he no longer feels like he’s burning: instead, he’s terribly cold.

“ – no place for a child,” that same voice from before is saying, and Zhen Yan still hates it, still wants his mom, his dad, even Luo-yi, but he’s so cold– he’ll, he’ll– something, he’ll do something, later, he will, but now, he can only burrow further into this person’s arms, seeking any warmth. The hold on him tightens, something is draped over his shoulders. “Hey, are you awake, kid?”

Yes, and I’ll kill you, you’ll see– the pain spikes again, and he’s dragged back into the darkness.

*

“ – you think you can just replace him?!”

“What did you want me to do? Leave the child in that place?”

“How is bringing him to this damned place any better? The great Sword Immortal could not think of anywhere else?”

“Please, you two, you’ll wake the boy–”

“The child is– his parents died for him, it’s my responsibility–”

“Is it? Or is it your guilt?”

*

A hand presses to his forehead.

“The fever has gone down,” a new voice says quietly, kinder and softer than the first two from before, and Zhen Yan leans into the touch.

Mom, is it you? Did you come back for me?

*

It’s not. She didn’t. When he wakes up again, the fog in his mind is nearly gone.

The winter of his memories is nearly gone, snow melted into a spring river. It’s still there.

He did it.

It’s still there.

*

In the morning, he wakes up with the sun filtering in through the window, brighter than he’s ever seen it. It lights up the room he’s in, allowing him to see how sparsely furnished it is– just the bed he’s in, a desk by the window with a chair, and a large sword resting in a shadowed corner. Over the chair, a white over robe is draped and on the desk, he notices with staggering relief his jade hairpin.

The key is safe.

How long has he been here? He doesn’t remember much after drinking the water Luo-yi gave him. Had he thrown it all up? He tried later that night, but then– what? Oh, he thinks he might have thrown up blood too, that’s probably not very good-- 

The door slides open. 

He means to pretend to be asleep, but the movement startles him, and the man by the door freezes, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else. The man doesn’t look threatening, with a water basin in his hand, but the little time he’s spent in the Ghost Valley has already taught him not to trust appearances. 

The man sighs, unsticking from the doorway to set the basin at the table. His movements are slow and precise, clearly telegraphed before moving, and when he finally turns to face the bed, his face is tired, weary like Luo-yi’s only ever was that first night when she was cleaning up blood from his face. 

“Alright, what’s your name, then?”

Something terrible caves in his chest, breaking off jagged edges, sharp and cutting, and the words all turn to ash in his mouth. What is his name? His mom told him to never use the Zhen surname again, didn’t she? And she– now, he’s– 

Besides, it feels very far away, that life. Maybe Zhen Yan should stay with that boy in his memories who had a mother and a father that were all alive and well. Maybe– 

“Aiya, why are you crying,” the man says, taking a step towards the bed but stopping when that only seems to make things worse, “if I was going to hurt you, do you think I’d waste my time taking care of you first? Little Idiot, did you forget your own name? That’s a real concern, so you have to tell me the truth.”

“I’m not an idiot!” It rushes out of his mouth before he can stop himself, but surprisingly, along with the man’s awkward blundering, it makes him feel a bit better. “And of course I know my name! It’s– it’s– Wen Kexing!”

There. Mom, is that okay? I’m sorry, I’m listening to you now, see? 

The man does not look like he believes him. “Wen Kexing, sure. How much do you remember, then?”

Wen Kexing. It sounds foreign. Unfamiliar. But not– not bad? He could– it sounds like someone he could be. Wen Kexing. Still the same characters, still him, just– just pieced together a little different. Yes, just different. “Who are you? Where am I? Why did you bring me here? What do you want?”

Another sigh. “You’re going to be a pest, I can tell,” the man scowls, shaking a finger in his direction, “so disrespectful! I’m letting it go this time, but see if I won’t have you kneeling outside to learn some manners in the future.”

He– Wen Kexing scowls right back. “I’ll bite you!”

While he had been prepared to take a hit for that, the only thing the man does is snort. “Silly boy, do you think you are a little ghoul? Now, now, come on, what do you remember?”

Too much. Not enough. Wen Kexing doesn’t know how to answer that. He remembers his dad killing himself and he remembers his mom lying on the ground. He remembers screaming until his throat gave out and he remembers the Ghost King laughing. He remembers– another boy? He doesn’t know what his mother looked like smiling or how his father called him, but he remembers how blood tastes on his tongue.

What do you remember?

Tears are welling up again and Luo-yi told him once not to cry in front of other people, but everything is so terrible, he just wants to curl up under the blankets and not wake up again, and, and–

“Oi, little ghost, don't start crying again,” the man sounds a little panicked even if his face doesn't really show it, but now that he has started, Wen Kexing can't stop crying, choking out sobs so much, he can barely breathe. A hand falls on his shoulder over the blankets, and he looks up to find the man is kneeling by the bed now, looking very uncomfortable, “alright, if I tell you my name, will you stop crying? My name is Ye Baiyi.”

Wen Kexing hiccups. “Where's Luo-yi?”

“At the Ghost Valley with the other ghosts,” Ye Baiyi says, voice kinder than before, “she gave you to me to get you out of that damned place.”

“Why?”

“Because that place is no place for children, not even rude little ghosts.”

“Why?”

“Because– ai, is that the only word you know? Come on, if you're well enough to be a pest, you're well enough to get out of bed to eat.”

“I could be dying,” Wen Kexing sniffs, slowly crawling out from his nest of blankets. There is a lot he wants to ask, but this man doesn't seem to be bad, even if he's rude. Besides, food would be nice. He pokes his head out, glaring. “No funny business, or I'll really bite you.”

Ye Baiyi laughs. "Such a fierce little ghost,” he allows Wen Kexing to get to his feet on his own and doesn’t try to get any closer, only gesturing for him to follow, “put on that robe too, it’s cold up here and there’s people you need to meet after you eat. Well, one person, but she’ll come around later too.”

If they’re going outside later, maybe Wen Kexing could try sneaking out. If this really isn’t the Ghost Valley, then– then, maybe he could run away. To somewhere. He doesn’t know yet, he’ll figure out the details later. 

But food first, he really is hungry.

***

[now]

The inn is bustling with people, the happy chatter reaching even the top of the stairs, and the sun is shining brightly outside– they should go out again today, Wen Kexing decides, just for the fun of it, to hell with the Scorpion! Maybe the market? 

“A-Xu, how about it, let’s go to the market again today,” he’s saying, half-formed plans to laze around in the sun bringing a genuine smile to his face– when he spots him. “Oh, shit.” 

Zhou Zishu immediately starts scanning their surroundings, which is so sweet, Wen Kexing will definitely swoon later when he’s not in a crisis. “What? What did you see?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he tries to backtrack, tugging at Zhou Zishu’s arm to drag him back to their rooms. Maybe, if he’s very luck, Ye Baiyi has not seen them yet. Could they escape through the window? It’s not very high, he doesn’t think. “A-Xu, A-Xu, I’ve just remembered, let’s go back upstairs, I don’t feel so well–”

“Lao Wen, what–”

“Wen Kexing, you lunatic, stop right there!”

“Wait, who’s that–”

“No one, A-Xu, no one,” he closes the door behind them, whirling around to grin his most innocent grin, the one that had Rong-furen patting his head and slipping him an extra mooncake, “A-Xu, what would you do if I told you to jump out that window with me?”

“What,” Zhou Zishu says, eyebrows going up, up, up, as he smirks, “are you telling me there’s someone Sword Immortal Wen is afraid of?”

On one hand, they don’t have time to waste squabbling about unimportant things like this when Ye Baiyi has alread caught sight of him. On the other hand, that is just not something he can let stand– “as if! That old man wishes– !”

Their time runs out: the door is thrown open with no ceremony and Wen Kexing sighs. Honestly, the drama. “Wen Kexing!” Ye Baiyi points a finger at him, not even sparing Zhou Zishu a look, narrowing his eyes, “how many times have I told you to stop calling yourself the Sword Immortal?!”

He scowls. “Old man,” he starts, thinks better of it, amends with a winning smile, “shifu, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Unfortunately, he is betrayed by his own soulmate: “are you telling me,” Zhou Zishu drawls, “you are not the Sword Immortal, Lao Wen?”

“A-Xu! Don’t laugh at me, your skepticism is very hurtful!”

“So you have some brains, unlike the people downstairs who bought into his bullshit,” Ye Baiyi seems to take stock of Zhou Zishu, and Wen Kexing feels irrationally nervous for no good reason– first of all, his A-Xu is literally perfect, so there’s nothing for Ye Baiyi to bitch about, and second of all, who cares what the Old Man thinks? “Who are you, anyway? Why are you running around with that pest in your state?”

“Excuse me, who are you calling– wait, what state? A-Xu?”

“Maybe we should all sit down,” Zhou Zishu gestures to the small table, looking uncharacteristically surprised. 

When he came down the mountain earlier that month, Wen Kexing had only meant to look into why people were suddenly trying to blame Luo-yi for their mess and maybe, if he were lucky, watch the Five Lakes Alliance burn themselves to the ground, get his revenge without even lifting a finger– how fortunate is that? But now things are a lot messier, he still hasn’t figured out how much of his recent dreams are real or not, how truly entwined his life is with Zhou Zishu’s. Had they truly met as children?

It’ll have to wait. Maybe Ye Baiyi will know something, he’ll annoy it out of him later. His head is beginning to ache again, but it’s fine, let them just have tea first– now that he thinks about it, who knows, maybe the Old Man can heal Zhou Zishu’s old injury?

Just in case, Wen Kexing pours the tea for him, beaming away any suspicion. 

[bellygunnr]

Blown Lightbulb

A commission piece for @poisonheadcrabsalesman featuring Thomas Lasky/Sarah Palmer. 

---

The house is cold. It hasn’t changed at all since you’ve last been here, some twenty odd years ago. You hadn’t been a kid then-- just a pilot, home on leave despite not really wanting to be. It had been tense then. It was the same now, even if your mother wasn’t even here, and you were laying bare the contents of your past to the two people you loved the most and considered the most important in your life. You hesitate to look at them, not quite fearful of what they’re thinking but definitely reluctant, like any of this is your fault and something to be ashamed of.

You know no one can really blame you for wanting some modicum of closure, but you’ve always been conscious of starting losing battles. Your mother isn’t even here, for one. A toneless holo-message is all she’s left you, detailing that an emergency at work brought her in and she’ll be back sometime in the evening. Maybe you and your colleagues could meet her at this location, even, and upon further investigation, that location is a startling high-profile restaurant of considerable Martian renown.

So much for flying close to the surface. You’d be in the air for all to see, just for a chance to reconcile with what little remains of your family. But that wasn’t for several hours yet, so you content yourself with poking around the giant empty house and listening to Sarah and Roland banter between each other.

“No offense, but this feels kind of like a museum exhibit,” Sarah says. “It’s not even dusty. I’d prefer it if it was.”

“You’d prefer it? There are stock photos of kids up here-- unless the Lasky family is way bigger than records suggest,” Roland answers.

You look at the picture frames Roland is pointing out. Amid the pictures of your brother Cadmon, there are photos of a foreign family, conspicuously only featuring a father figure. You run your fingers through your hair, nostrils flaring with a barely-restrained sigh.

“We didn’t take many family pictures,” you say, as if that explains anything. “I’m going to check out the upstairs.”

You tug on the back of your head, pulling at the recently shaved strands in a fit of anxiety. You don’t want to go upstairs. You’re afraid of what you’ll find there. Cadmon’s room was practically a shrine twenty years ago. The stairs don’t even creak as you step up them and you’re not sure why you expect them to. They look and feel and sound like wood, but you know them to be special composites that just didn’t degrade.

Your grip lingers on the railing as you take the final step. The door you know that leads to your mother’s room is closed. The keypad lock to it is bright red. You wonder if the keycode has changed at all, but testing it probably isn’t worth the risk. Across from her room is Cadmon’s, but that door is also, as you expected, closed.

And the one you recognize as your own is ajar. You let your hand find Sarah’s, squeezing it so tightly that she squeezes back, thumb rolling over your knuckles in a decidingly tender way.

“You know you don’t have to do this, Tom,” she says gently.

“But I want to,” you say. “I know I don’t need to.”

“Well, that’s something.”

It is. You offer her a braver smile than you feel and let her follow you to your room. There are more picture frames up here, covering the walls in even intervals. You can only ignore them because you know Roland is looking at them. You nudge open the door with your foot and, again, hesitate at the threshold.

Was everything in this house going to be difficult?

You shut your eyes and take in a shuddering breath. You can feel Sarah at your back, her presence radiating warmth. If you wobble, you feel her sturdy body against yours, so you let yourself lean into the partial embrace of her arms. She squeezes your shoulders, just as ice trickles down your spine.

Roland’s presence bleeds into your mind like condensation forming on the outside of a glass. It’s not enough for his thoughts or feelings to be tangible, but it’s so distinctly him that you smile and relax, easing the tension in your balled-up fists and opening your eyes. The room ahead is dark, but all you need to do is step inside for the lights to wake up and--

It’s not exactly the same as you left it, but it’s close. Your eyes roam the room, picking out all the various effects of teenaged you. There are posters on the wall, though some of the pixels have gone dark in their paper-thin construction, and models on the shelves, thick with dust. Your bed is perfectly made, the pillows hidden beneath a dark red blanket. Inevitably, your eyes roam over to a box bolted seamlessly into the wall, just above your nightstand. 

“Ah,” you breathe, staring at the box. “I see.”

“Is that…?” Sarah starts, but trails off, uncertain.

You can feel Roland’s curiosity curling up in the back of your mind. If you strain, you can even see his glittery-gold essence creeping out toward the box, but that gives you a migraine the harder you try.

You open your mouth to try and explain what it is, despite what it is being obvious. It’s a physical control panel for a domestic-grade Dumb AI. His name is still plainly depicted in the form of colorful stickers-- Admiral Hart. He hadn’t been active last time, but he hadn’t been gone either, so at least the sick hope flickering in your belly isn’t fully misplaced.

Still, is it worth trying to activate him?

“Roland,” you say, feeling quite outside yourself. “You can investigate it, if you want. Um, if he’s in there, could you…?”

“Of course, Captain,” Roland says.

Roland’s projection hovers in mid-air, thrown there by the custom commpad he was currently residing in. He smiles brilliantly at you and Sarah before bringing up what must be the digital counterpart of the control panel, his gestures as grandiose as ever, his expression just visible behind the transparent boxes. You hate it, but you distract yourself by leaning into Sarah’s space and kissing the bottom of her chin, staying there until Roland pipes up again.

“He’s in there, Captain. Says here he hasn’t been activated since… 2549. Very long service life, this one.”

Oh, that wasn’t too bad. Still, nearly ten years, completely shut down.

“...I don’t know if I’m ready to see him yet,” you say in one long rush of breath, the realization making you feel ill. “I do miss him, though.”

“There are also several other AI matrices in here,” Roland adds. “Why so many, if I may ask?”

“They were my teachers, when I was doing homeschooling. I’m surprised they’re still here.”

Dumb AI were very limited in their fixed personalities, but you swear they’re more sentient than they let on. One didn’t befriend several all at once and not experience some inexplicable variances, but dwelling on it was starting to make you feel hot behind the eyes. You shake your head, exasperated.

“Sorry, this is-- a lot more than I thought it’d be.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Sarah says lightly. “Want to go back downstairs?”

“Mind if I hang out in your house’s network for a little while?” Roland asks. “I won’t touch anything.”

“Go for it,” you say with a smile.

Roland winks and smiles before gathering up the tendrils of himself, more visible now that he was letting his essence ooze out between commpad, neural interfaces, and nearby network ports. Smart AI were remarkably fluid, or even gaseous, automatically filling in the void spaces around them, not because they wanted to be big as possible-- they were just that big. Still, you rub the back of your neck the same time as Sarah does, acutely conscious of the absence.

“Downstairs, then,�� Sarah says. “Think there’s anything in the fridge?”

“I have no idea. Are you hungry?”

“I haven’t eaten since yesterday. To keep the motion sickness down, you know.”

You hum in acknowledgement. Her moving ahead of you prevents you from lingering too long upstairs, anxious as you are to keep up with her long strides. You have no idea where either of you are going to get clothes nice enough to go to a restaurant. Neither of you are dressed for it, let alone packed. Roland had suggested dressing as casually as possible to take the edge off, and well, maybe that was going to backfire. 

“I can feel you thinking too hard,” Sarah says.

She’s in your space the second you leave the stairs. But it’s gentle and unintrusive despite her taking up your whole line of sight. She’s teasing you, even as her brow is bent in concern.

“What am I thinking too hard about?” you ask.

“Hmmm. Something about your mom, like that stupid message she left us. Seriously, talk about a neutral location.” 

You laugh before you can stop yourself. 

“Got it in one,” you say. “I don’t know what she’s thinking.”

“Guess poor mother Lasky is going to have to come home after all,” Sarah says. “Isn’t that sad?”

She bumps your hip with the back of her fist, a playful nudge that, surprisingly, doesn’t send you stumbling. You punch her shoulder in return, silently following her into the next room, where the kitchen is. You watch Sarah go for the fridge and open it, head disappearing inside to scope out the contents. She retreats a moment later to throw something green and limp into your arms.

You catch it more out of surprise than anything, but you feel nauseous just holding it.

“What the hell is this?”

“Nutritional smoothie paste!” Sarah says, like she’s struck gold. “Used to eat this shit when I was a baby Spartan. They put it in Mjolnir on long-haul ops.”

“And that’s…. Is it good?” You ask, instantly skeptical.

“Hell, no. But I’m too polite to eat the meal plan stuff she has in there. So, drink up.”

Well, you couldn’t fault her there. You set the plastic tube of paste down on the faux-granite countertop, deciding that you’d rather let Sarah just drink both of them. You can’t stifle a smile as she immediately scoops it up, tearing open both of them at once and drinking them down in a truly disgusting fashion. But she doesn’t spill a drop, so... 

“I see you’ve gotten better at that,” you say.

“Roland made me promise not to make a mess if I’m going to be carrying the commpad,” she admits, looking exasperated for all of a split-second. “So.”

She tosses the spent bags onto the countertop, despite the trash can being directly underhand. You shrug that off in favor of grabbing her by the collar of her tank top and pulling her down, kissing her flat on the mouth. Her answering hum is felt in your bones and you both relax into each other, your anxious tension sapped by her solid core. She curls an arm around your waist and holds you in place, like she’s been waiting to do that.

“Relax a little,” she murmurs. “We can worry about her when she gets here.”

Not you, we. You feel a little weak in the knees at the distinction and let yourself hang onto her arms, certain that you’re looking at her with a dopey smile.

“But we probably shouldn’t do this in the kitchen,” she adds.

Before you can pull away, Sarah effortlessly hauls you into her arms, supporting you by grabbing a fistful of your ass and waiting until you wrap your arms around her neck. She squeezes your rear a couple times before moving, gait so smooth that you don’t even feel it when she turns on her heel to dump you on the couch with a flourish. 

You sink into the couch cushions, but wrap your arms around hers so that you don’t disappear completely. Her face is so close to yours that you count each individual scar and freckles, including the faint lines of surgical augmentations that only show up in the right light. You snake your hand up to the back of her neck, mindful not to grab ahold of the enlarged neural implant.

“Anyone ever told you you’re handsome, Tom?” Sarah murmurs.

“Mmm, I can think of a few…”

Her laughter is felt on your skin as warm puffs. She kisses you, her lips rough with bitten and half-healed skin that you nip at, chasing them when she tries to pull away. The plasticine fabric squeaks as she carefully, carefully lowers her weight over yours and straddles you, her thighs big enough to keep you in place. 

“Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

“I will,” you promise.

You want to say that you know she won’t, but she always looks so earnest when she asks that this time, you don’t. Because she has before-- there’s a biological differential between the two of you that you never stop thinking about. You work your hand further up to pull her hair out of its ponytail, working your fingers into the coarse locks and kissing her more intently, eyes fluttering shut. I love you, you want to say. I trust you, which is just as hard.

Her hands roam across your shirt and pluck open several buttons so that she can follow the edge of your collarbone and the slope of your shoulders. Her warm, slightly sweaty palms are a sharp contrast to the cool air, and the shock of physical contact has goosebumps lifting on your arms. You lick at her lips and fist some of her hair, mumbling indistinctly as you pull her down closer.

There’s no smart quip or knowing look to make light of your neediness. She finally lets her weight drop onto your lap completely and the kiss moves on, her teeth and lips tracking across the edge of your jaw to just underneath your ear. Instead of letting your hands hover, you start to follow the hard curves of her body, groping at the bunching muscles and admiring the power coiled there. 

Then she snaps into rigid attention, face turned toward the front door, her lips drawn back in a snarl. You vaguely notice that she has a chipped tooth before you hear the door opening and Sarah is still poised over you and she’s kissing you again, hard, and you kind of moan into it--

“Well, then,” an all-too-familiar voice says. “Thomas, care to… introduce me?”

Finally, Sarah climbs off of you, but not before buttoning your shirt and kissing your forehead. Your brain already hurts from the mental whiplash of the situation.

“Um, mother,” you start. “This is Sarah Palmer. My partner.”

Your mother is shorter than you remember. Her hair, once a brownish-black, is in faded tones and grey at the roots. A scar that wasn’t there twenty years ago lurks just by her eye and she looks exhausted. Stress and worry lines make canyons of her face, ones that twist your heart to look at.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Sarah says stiffly.

She does not look amused. She doesn’t look much of anything except terribly stern and suspicious of the scene before her. You almost can’t blame her. Almost.

“You know, I was hoping you’d be here when we got here,” you say. “But it seems you’re still working.”

“Of course. Duty still calls, you know.”

You watch her as she shrugs off her jacket and hangs it up on the coat rack in the anteroom. Both nothing and everything has changed about her and it makes something in your throat tighten.

“Oh, I know that more than anybody,” you breathe. “Yeah.”

“I do appreciate you coming home, Tom,” Audrey says, not looking at you. “It means a lot. I thought I’d have to see you when the Infinity opened her doors to the public. That is still happening-- right?”

“Sure, it’s happening,” Sarah says. “Look, Tom, do you want me to…?”

You shake your head.

“Yes, but I won’t be back on Mars until then. Working nonstop has its benefits-- like a lot of vacation time.”

“That sounds like a dream, to be able to use it,” Audrey replies calmly. “I need to know if we’re having dinner tonight.”

You and Sarah share a look.

“I was thinking we could share a bottle of wine and shoot the shit instead,” Sarah says. “Or some scotch, if you have it.”

At that, Audrey looks amused.

“I never took you for a scotch man, Tom,” Audrey chuckles.

You don’t say anything as she leaves the room, no doubt seeking out the desired glasses and alcohol. The sun is going down outside, plunging the room in a deep red. This was going better than expected. You want to break open the window and run. You want to do anything but sit back down and draw out the table and sit in a semi-circle and “shoot the shit.” But you’re already sitting down and the bottle is open and you haven’t ate anything-- neither has Sarah, even, but with her augmentations drinking on an empty stomach is probably beneficial and--

“Good news, everybody! I took the liberty of ordering us some, what do you humans call it? Party food? You know, for all the drinking we’re about to do. You’re welcome!”

You choke on your own spit and your mother nearly drops the glass she’s pouring. Sarah, for her part, is taking the bottle and stealing a sip directly, if only to conceal a smug smile.

Roland is hovering inches above the faux-wooden table, drawn up to his full height with chest puffed out and expression gleeful. He flicks one hand out in a casual salute toward Audrey before trotting aside and sitting down, legs crossed.

“Cheers,” he says.

“Hi, Roland,” Sarah greets.

You had completely forgotten about Roland. Oops.

“Thomas, I do hate to ask,” Audrey says, peering down at Roland with a pinched expression, “but why is there an AI?”

“Oh, you know,” you say vaguely, waving a hand. “It’s classified.”

“I’m Captain Lasky’s boss,” Roland says, grinning. “So I’m allowed to be here, you see.”

“Are you my boss, Roland?” Sarah asks.

“No, ma’am.”

Audrey’s eyebrows shoot up. She takes a sip from her glass, shifting in her seat uncomfortably.

“Well, I’m Audrey Lasky,” she says finally. “Pleasure to meet you.”

The rest of the night goes painfully.

[radioduo]

introductions || a dsmp detroit: become human au

word count: ~1,000

yes i made a dbh au, please appreciate it because holy shit i’m loving it- if anyone shows interest in it i’ll make a post about the characters and roles 👀

not my best writing because it’s late and unedited so please yell at me to fix things if i need to 👍

next

MODEL TU880

SERIAL#: 129 111 616

BIOS 5.3 REVISION 7806

STARTING SYSTEMS…

RUNNING TEST

LOADING OS

SYSTEM INITIALIZATION…

CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS… OK

INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS… OK

INITIALIZING AI ENGINE… OK

MEMORY STATUS…

ALL SYSTEMS OK

READY

TU880 blinked open his eyes and looked around. In front of it stood three people: two boys, one with curly brown hair and the other with shoulder-length pink hair, and a man with short blond hair and kind blue eyes. Behind the trio was some sort of lab with mechanical parts and pieces, small pouches of thirium, and all sorts of blueprints lying around.

“TU880, my name is Phil,” the man’s voice came in through its audio sensors.

TU880 took a moment to process the information and then rested its gaze back onto the blond man. “Hello, Phil,” it said.

“Dad, what is this?” The brown haired boy asked. He leaned in close to TU880’s face and squinted at it. “Some sort of machine?” He picked up one of its arms and watched in shock as the skin retracted and revealed porcelain white skin below.

The blond-haired man grinned. “I call it an android, Will. Say hello to the most revolutionary invention in technological history since the self-driving bus,” he turned to face TU880. “TU880, run a diagnostic test for us, will you?”

TU880 did as instructed. It ran through its list of functions and nodded when it was finished. “Diagnostic test completed. Everything is in working order, Phil,” it stated.

The two boys looked at TU880 with identical frowns. The pink-haired boy approached it and waved a hand in front of its face, though he seemed disappointed when it had no reaction. He raised an eyebrow skeptically. “So it speaks,” he noted. “What else can it do?”

Phil turned to TU880. “TU880, tell Wilbur and Techno your functions,”

“Who?” TU880 blinked.

Phil made a little sound of ‘oh’ and turned to face his sons. “Right. I‘ll have to change that function, but for now it can stay. Boys, you need to register yourself into his system. Say ‘TU880, my name is’ and then say your name. You’ll only need to do it once, and he’ll know you from then on.”

Wilbur was the first of the twins to try it. He hesitantly approached TU880. “Um, TU880, my name is Wilbur,” his tone was cautious when he addressed the android.

TU880 blinked, his LED flashing as he registered the data. At last, he nodded. “Hello, Wilbur,” he said with a smile. The process repeated with Technoblade, who seemed to be more suspicious of the android than Wilbur did. When the two of them were in its system, TU880 began to explain its functions. “I am TU880,” it stated. “I am a housekeeping android, created to serve this family and keep you all safe. I can clean, cook, speak hundreds of languages, and assist you with just about everything you can think of. Would you like to give me a name?”

The three humans exchanged a look, seemingly having a silent conversation. Phil turned back to TU880. “Not yet,” he headed over to a small panel and tapped a couple buttons. “We’ll wait to show Tommy, and then we can name him. TU880, you can shut down for now,” Phil said. TU880 opened its mouth to say something, when suddenly, with a final button press, the world went dark and silent.

----------

Wilbur eyed the now shut-down robot on the pedestal. “So, uh, what the hell are you planning on doing with that thing?” he asked. “Why do we need that?” He shared a look with Technoblade, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Aren’t you the least bit worried about what it might… do?”

Phil shrugged. “I’ve been working with this for months now Wil, the program is absolutely flawless. Nothing can happen, I promise,”

Technoblade frowned. “You never know. You can’t be too careful with this sorta thing,” he murmured. He approached the android, which stood completely still, staring at nothing with blank eyes. “But I guess it could have its uses. Do you think it-”

A soft knock at the lab door startled the three of them. They turned to look at the door, and when it opened, a short blond boy with a bandaid on his nose appeared in the doorway. “What the hell are you three doing in here?”

Phil grinned and beckoned Tommy over to where he and the twins stood near TU880. “Do you know what this is?” He asked Tommy, pointing at the android.

Tommy furrowed his brows. “A… person?” He asked. He poked TU880’s hand and recoiled when he realized it was cold and hard. “What the fu-“

“Tommy, careful,” Wilbur warned, placing a hand in his younger brother’s shoulder reflexively. “It’s Dad’s new invention, apparently. He calls it an android,” he said. He approached TU880 with Techno behind him. The twins watched as their 10 year old brother eyed the robot suspiciously.

Techno nudged Tommy lightly. “What do you think, Tommy?” He asked.

Tommy was silent for a moment, before finally saying, “Why’s it called Tubbo?” He pointed at the nametag on the gray and blue jacket that flashed the model type. “Did you fuckin’ give it a name without me?” His tone was accusatory.

The others only laughed. “No, Tommy, we didn’t name him yet,” Phil chuckled. “We waited for you,” he smiled. “D’you wanna give him a name?” When Tommy nodded, Phil wandered over to the panel and started TU880 up again.

----------

TU880 felt its consciousness returning, and it could make out the muffled speech of other people in the room. Its audio processors started up first, and then the rest of its system. Finally, it blinked open its eyes. It was surprised to see another human standing before it. This time, a young blond boy. TU880 scanned his face quickly.

Thomas Craft

Also called Tommy

Age: 10 years

Height: 5’4”

It paused its scan to listen to the boy. “TU880, my name is Tommy,” he said. He sounded confident, although TU880 could feel his hesitance.

“Hello, Tommy,” it greeted.

Tommy ignored it and turned to look at Phil instead. “How’re you supposed to name him?” he asked.

Phil cleared his throat and walked up to the blue-eyed android. “TU880, register your name,” he stated. He ushered Tommy forward. “Go on,” Phil whispered.

Tommy stared at the android and smiled. “Tubbo,”

The brunett’s LED flickered yellow briefly as he processed the information, and then it returned to blue. “My name is Tubbo.”