#deathworlder au

[imsociallyanxiousgetoverit]

yo what if Danny was the human representative on a ship and had to politely explain that his biology is different but he does know alot about the average human because he was born there and was human for the first decade of his life?

[delimeful]

the end of being alone (6)

remember how this installment was mostly fluff up until this point? we'll get back to that! 

... just not this chapter <3

part 2: how does a kid end up stranded in space, anyhow?

warnings: bad self care, illness, panic, child in distress, minor injury, non-consensual drug use, trafficking, unethical imprisonment and treatment of prisoners, child endangerment, implied offscreen minor character death, ambiguous character fates, this is a heavy tearjerker chapter but it does have a hopeful ending, lmk if i missed any

-

Virgil’s condition hadn’t improved.

They’d tried as many non-medicinal techniques as they could, struggling to figure out what would help and what would harm an unpredictable biological system that they barely understood.

Nothing had helped. Nothing was working.

And each time Virgil woke up to the sight of the ship around him, he wept and struggled and shouted, burning through his meager energy and only worsening his health.

He didn’t respond to heartfelt pleas from any of them, rarely even seeming to understand they were in the room with him. His stare was distant and terrified, his mind somewhere else, and each time it happened, Logan wanted to understand how to help so badly.

So, after several cycles without sleep and with the pressure of increasing desperation weighing heavy on his head, he finally succumbed to the deeply unwise impulse to start a Vidi.

He’d only wanted to understand what Virgil was yelling, try and grasp the reason behind his fear in the hopes that they could abate it, even slightly.

The moment he’d made contact, however, his mind had been dragged into a memory with intense force, the metaphorical handles of the Vidi ripped away, leaving him unable to steer and barely able to move.

His fingers twitched with the urge to pull away, but he stopped himself. It could hurt Virgil, and he’d endured plenty of traumatic memories before. He could handle this.

With a blink, he was looking through a much younger set of eyes.

—

The ship came during the summer.

Virgil remembered, because he’d been reviewing holidays and important events with his class before the break, and his half-birthday was coming up in a week!

His birthday was in winter, so his half birthday was in the opposite season, summer! He’d said as much before trying to debate his way into a trip to the park with his friends, and failing miserably.

So, he’d snuck out. And gotten himself lost between one turn of the neighborhood and the next.

He’d run into one of his neighbors, who’d been more than a little concerned to see him wandering around alone, especially because there had apparently been some people disappearing lately.

“Where did they go?” he’d asked, and gotten an uncomfortable reassurance, which definitely wasn’t an answer.

He’d frowned, tried to ask again, but his neighbor had gone quiet and grey-faced, staring at something over his shoulder. Before he could turn to see, there was a sharp thunk, and a bright bolt of pain in his shoulder.

There was a high, crackling scream, which was bad, but Virgil couldn’t keep his eyes open long enough to figure out where it came from. A pair of warm hands caught him when he staggered, and then he was out.

He barely recalled what happened next, the memories fragmented like someone had taken a hammer to them. He didn’t want to think about them, but he kept the pieces close and tucked away anyhow, knowing they were important even though they hurt.

He felt flickers of awareness, the sensation of eyes rolling against heavy eyelids, a rapid pulse pounding away in his ears like a big drum, angry and fearful shouting barely audible beyond the clamor.

And then: the barest glimpse of the docking port of a ship from the inside, the entrance ramp folding up and sealing away the green trees and blue sky on the other side. Replacing the brief vision of home with cold metal and unearthly lights.

There weren’t any warm hands holding him, now.

His whimper turned nearly soundless on the way up his throat, but it drew the attention of his captors regardless.

A rush of unfamiliar language above him, another flood of numbness spreading through him, but even from that one fragmented moment, Virgil understood that they were taking him away.

Another blank period, like dipping one's head briefly underwater, and then he was waking up again.

“Easy, baby,” a familiar voice said, a hand stroking through his hair, slow and gentle. “You’re okay, you’re alright.”

“Miss Susan?” Virgil asked, and his voice came out small and crackling. He coughed, trying to force his crusted over eyelashes apart with a growing sense of panic.

“Hey, I need some water for the kid!” Miss Susan called lowly, before setting a hand against his back and helping him shuffle upright. “Take it slow, baby, don’t choke. There we go.”

Virgil opened his eyes and got his first look at the room he’d be stuck in for the next several months.

It was dimly lit, and smelled bad. The floor was metal, with a few thin stripes of grating, like a shower drain. The walls were made of tinted plastic and covered with sharp-edged wire netting, and there were a whole bunch of people inside with him and Miss Susan.

They all spoke to him at one point or another, but he only remembered some of their names. The thought made his stomach twist painfully, and he clamped down on the sensation.

He couldn’t be sick. Being sick was bad.

The time shifted, Miss Susan still at his side but her hair longer and her skin sallower. They were all seated, tired from the cold and the dark and the gross food that he wasn’t allowed to throw up.

Mister Ben was coughing, hard and rasping and wet, one after another. A few people were crouched near him, talking to him in hushed voices as they tried to coax him into stopping, but his body curled in and convulsed like he couldn’t control the coughs at all.

Before long, there was a clang, and a spraying sound like that time a fire hydrant down the road had been busted open. A few people stood between the door and Mister Ben, but the room grew more and more hazy with the thick air that made his legs go all numb, and they were swaying with the effort of staying upright.

Virgil knew by now what happened next. He turned and pressed his face against Miss Susan’s side, and she drew him close and held him tightly as the suits came in.

The aliens were always wearing them when they came into sight. Thick rubbery suits with dark-tinted visors, each with an electric zapper in hand. They’d drag the sick one out, and Virgil would never see them again.

“Leave him alone!” Miss Susan cried, joined by the rising voices of the rest of their roommates. “Don’t touch him, you leave him the fuck alone!”

Virgil kept not looking, but he said it too, into the worn fabric of Miss Susan’s blouse. “Leave him alone, don’t touch him, leave him alone, don’t touch him, leave him alone…,”

It didn’t work. It never did. The aliens didn’t listen to them, and they made them weak and floaty if they tried to intervene.

His voice cracked as he kept repeating it, even as the door clanged again and the hiss of air stopped. If he didn’t look up, he could pretend that Mister Ben was still there, only quiet because he was all better from his cough.

"It's okay. I know. It's alright, honey." Miss Susan’s hands shook as they stroked carefully through his hair, soothing him to sleep through the last of his hiccuped sobs.

Everyone who spoke to him was kind, even when they were unhappy. When Miss Susan slept but he was awake, Mister Aaron would invent word games to play or Miss Kelsey would challenge him to push up contests, and they would all take turns trying to think of the worst possible combinations of foods to compare to their mush food.

The best was Miss Susan, though. When he was bored, she would tell him stories about her nieces and nephews, and the farm she grew up on, and silly people at her job before they got taken. When he couldn’t sleep, she would hum whichever parts of lullabies she could remember.

Even when he got sad and didn’t want to move or talk at all, she would hold him close and poke at his side and gasp about seeing the firefly that had snuck onboard with them, until he had no choice but to wiggle free and inspect every corner for its light.

The other adults would spot it every once in a while, too, and try to point it out to him. He never saw it, which he would report back to Miss Susan every time.

“Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there,” she’d tell him, waving at the dark ceiling of the room. “Glowbugs can’t be bright all the time.”

“Why not?”

“Well, they’d get too hot and sweaty. They’d have to go swim in the ocean, and then they’d probably all turn into anglerfish,” Miss Susan said, even though she hadn’t known what an anglerfish was until Virgil had told her everything he could remember about them.

“No way,” he said, laughing despite himself. “Bugs can’t turn into fish!”

“Maybe they just get too tired, then,” Miss Susan said, ruffling his hair. “It must be exhausting, being so bright.”

She went quiet for a moment, and Virgil leaned into her touch, squinting at the dark corners and willing the bug to show itself.

“Even when they’re blending in with the dark, though, they’re still there,” Miss Susan finally continued. “So don’t give up. You’ve just gotta trust in it, and eventually, you’ll spot it.”

“I want eventually to be now,” Virgil had responded, petulant as he flopped against her side, eyes growing heavy.

Miss Susan pet his head, humming quietly until he was almost asleep. She let out a big sigh, and when she spoke, her voice was quiet. “You and me both, kid.”

And then it was the last day.

He knew because Miss Susan’s hands were carefully cupping his face, coaxing him into waking up with a careful tap to the nose. They never woke him up on purpose, because 'growing kids needed their rest', except for the last day.

Virgil felt his brow scrunch with confusion even before his eyelids started fluttering, and Miss Susan chuckled and pressed her lips to the crown of his head for a moment.

“Come on, baby, wake up. It’s important, okay?”

He forced himself to open his eyes and keep them open, a little unease running down his spine.

Everyone had been scared, lately. Their group had shrunk in number, their room had been moved onto a bigger ship, and there were distant sounds of crowds at all hours, making his skin prickle with nerves when he was trying to sleep.

Some of their roommates were really smart, and they’d started puzzling out the words of the alien language from the ship directions that were given over the intercom and the overheard conversations of those passing by or rudely peeking in at them.

They’d taught Virgil some of them, whenever he was awake enough to remember. The words they whispered now weren’t ones he’d learned yet, though.

‘Transfer’ and ‘auction’. Everyone disliked them, felt too upset or angry about them to explain, even Miss Susan. Or maybe they just didn’t want to explain them to him, like they wouldn’t tell him what the aliens did with people when they got taken away. There had been a lot of arguing and shouting in low voices, trying to keep him from overhearing.

But now, they were waking him up.

Virgil let himself be coaxed to his feet, following Miss Susan over to the corner where everyone stood in a huddle, the tallest of them on the outside.

“Okay, sweetie. I need you to listen to me very closely, alright?” she told him, turning him to face the corner where they usually kept extra clothes in a pile. “You’re going to have to be very brave for me, okay?”

The clothes had been moved. There was a hole in the wall, where the netting had been peeled back. The edges of it were rough and curved like they’d been made with fingernails, like it had been painstakingly carved through one scratch at a time.

It was a small hole, barely the size of a vent, or a cat flap. Virgil could probably fit through it, but he was the only one.

“No,” Virgil shook his head immediately. “I don’t want to! I’m scared.”

Miss Susan squatted to be level with him, holding his hand in hers. “I know, honey. But it’s important, okay? We’re going to get out and find you, but you have to go first and stay safe until we do. I’ll send our little glowbug with you, and it’ll light the way in the dark.”

“What about your dark?” Virgil asked, rubbing harshly at his stinging eyes.

Miss Susan softened, pulled his hand away and smoothed a thumb over his cheekbone. “Oh, baby. I’ve seen that glowbug a hundred times, here with you. I’ll be okay without it for a little while.”

Virgil turned to look at the hole again, imagining a little firefly crawling through with him so he wouldn’t be alone.

“Do you promise?” he asked, and Miss Susan pulled him into a hug so tight, it felt like it squished all the air from him.

“I promise,” she said, and her hands shook a little but her voice was steady. Virgil smushed his face against her shoulder for the last time.

“Okay. I’ll— I’ll go.”

The barrier of bodies around them seemed to relax, just slightly, though it still took Miss Susan a few moments longer to release him.

They told him everything he needed to know, everyone chiming in. That he had to run, as fast and as far as he could, and be sneaky and quiet when he was too tired to run. That he should find hiding places and hole up in them, wait until nobody was around to keep running.

That he should always hide from aliens, even if they weren't wearing the suits. That he should never let them see him, because they hated humans. That if they did grab him, he could do whatever he needed to do to get away.

“Just like stranger danger, right, buddy? You can bite, kick, scream, whatever you need to do.”

Virgil nodded, trying to push down the sick, stressed feeling in his gut, and when there was finally no advice left to give, he turned to the gash in the wall.

Wiggling through it was hard, because there were still sharp, poky bits that scratched at his skin and the inside of the wall was dark and stifling, but every time he wanted to stop, he could hear the encouragement of everyone else, who was still stuck inside.

There was a little bug with him, he reminded himself. If he closed his eyes and froze up, he wouldn’t ever be able to see it glow.

Finally, he squirmed free of the last few inches, dropping onto the floor of a very small dark room with shelves in it, like a linen closet. He turned back to face the hole, calling out, and Miss Susan reached an arm through.

He grabbed for her hand and pressed his face to it, clung to her for a long moment, his breaths stuttering as she cradled him the best she could.

There was a muffled clang, and Miss Susan ran her wavering thumb over his cheekbone one more time before pulling away.

“Run, Virgil. Now. Run!”

So he did.

He ran and hid, just like they told him, but he picked the wrong place to hide because it was part of another ship, and it took him far away. He kept running, pulled himself into tiny little nooks on spaceship after spaceship, snuck food wherever he could get it and only ever whispered to his invisible firefly.

Eventually, he left a ship and there were no other ships around to board, only the wide landscape of a different planet, full of weird trees and weird animals and a weird town that he fled from. No more ships came, and that was fine because he didn’t want to run anymore. He wanted to stay and wait for them to find him.

He laid on his back and faced the sky, searching for a sign that they were coming. He was hungry and tired and lonely.

The stars above looked just like fireflies, hundreds of them. Enough for all of them to watch together. Except there wasn’t a ‘them’. It was only him.

Virgil felt his face growing hot, his throat closing up at the thought. It was too frightening to be alone.

No, he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t. He had their firefly with him, somewhere next to him in the grass.

“Just because I can’t see them, doesn’t mean they’re not there,” Virgil said to himself sternly, and rolled back to his feet.

He would find something to eat, somewhere to sleep, and he would wait. They would find him. They would find him. They would…

—

When Logan finally eased the mental connection closed and pulled himself free, he found there was a low, buzzing keen building in the back of his throat. The sort of sound he hadn’t made since he himself was a child.

Virgil still lay there unconscious, but his cheeks were shiny and damp with tears. Logan reached out, ignoring the heat radiating from the pupa’s skin, and gently smoothed a narrow finger over his cheek, wiping the wetness away as best he could.

It didn’t do much, but the crinkle in Virgil’s brow seemed to ease just slightly at the sensation.

Roman paced by again, pausing at the sight. “Specs? Is the kid alright? …Are you alright?”

Logan wondered what Roman would think about the fact that Humans and Crav’n had more in common culturally than he would have ever guessed. That an entire group of Humans had given up their only boon for the slim chance of getting the only child present to safety.

No time to waste, now. That conversation would have to wait until they’d launched.

“Let Patton know we’re leaving, and meet me in the navigation area,” he instructed, already turning to leave. “I’m going to clear our landing area for departure.”

“What— I thought we agreed it was a bad idea to actually leave?” Roman asked, glancing between Logan and Virgil with visible worry.

“It’s a worse idea to sit here and wait,” he replied firmly, and then he was down the hall and out the hanger door, ignoring the shiver of secondhand trepidation that Virgil’s mind had left in his.

He circled the ship, placing the warding discs that would keep their launch area organism-free down one by one, and then paused at the sight of a familiar creature standing by the main entrance hatch.

It was a Humlilt, one with a distinct little white splotch on its head. Logan was fairly certain that it was the one who had stood between them and Virgil during their second meeting, the most loyal of the bunch, only proved further by the way it had been waiting outside the ship since Virgil had been taken aboard.

Logan was also fairly certain that Virgil had named this one Susan, after his neighbor. The Human who’d taken care of him, in those memories.

“You’ve taken care of him, too, haven’t you?” he asked, still far too affected by the painful sympathy that had washed over him post-Vidi.

The Humlilt stamped a hoof and trumpeted at him warningly as he neared, still obviously holding a grudge at them for stealing Virgil away.

Logan attempted to rationalize himself out of the decision he was about to make, and utterly failed.

—

It took some digging and reaching out to a few of Logan’s less savory contacts, but the ship was on its way to a waypoint station that was rumored to have a Human expert in residence. It could have been a trap, a lie meant to lure interested parties into an attack, but they were going to have to risk it.

The three of them had all agreed to the plan. They wouldn’t be able to live with themselves otherwise.

Now that they were in transit, Logan sat down with his two closest friends, and began to explain just what he’d learned about their kid.

A few rooms down in the medical bay, a half-conscious Human reached out a feverish hand and found a small, fluffy presence curled up at his side.

The Humlilt crooned a few notes, sounding just like the aimless lullabies its namesake used to hum.

For the first time since boarding the ship, Virgil breathed a little easier.

[zack-creeper]

Ok so we all know about humans being deathworlds/space orcs as well as some people saying humans are space dogs or humans are space cats or humans are space fae.

My I present to to you...

Humans Are Space Badgers

I have no idea if this has bin done but humans are a lot like badgers and even though badgers don't pack bond they are tough little shits that no one real wants to mess with as, if you try and take one down you now damn well they are not leaving this world with out biting and scratching the hell out of you as much they can, and doing enough damage that it will have a lasting mark on you. You may live to tell the tail but you will never attack one again, and if you don't live well let's just say anybody who witnessed it will say they tore you limb from limb and sprawled your insides, out onto the ground. Also we can look very cute and fluffy.

[resident-sentinel]

Raconteur

What if Humanity was the first to find the Citadel before anyone else?

A close guarded secret Humanity had always kept close, is just how much they understood what the beacons had to show. Warnings... constant warnings. A lot of it still did not make sense, but paranoia got the best of humanity early on. Prompting the need to locate for more clues.

For more evidence.

The beacons... what are they showing humanity?

Warnings?

Warnings of what?

Humanity being humanity... they did what any human would do.

Copious amount of alcohol, determination and spite... resulted with finding another beacon on Mars. It was there they found a cache that led them to a frozen Mass Relay once thought to be Pluto's moon. The next step, locate more beacons.

In their search, they found an occupied Citadel with Keepers roaming about.

Master List:

Here > Beginning

[mumblesplash]

absolutely baffled by the existence of trigun college/coffee shop/flower shop type aus. like ok those aren’t my cup of tea in general but with trigun specifically i cannot fathom what could draw someone to the story enough to write fanfiction for it which would not be completely lost by changing the setting to present-day earth, removing all the violence, and making all the characters normal humans with retail jobs like how does that even work

[lovelesslittleloser]

So.

To start this off right I just want to express my

Disappointment

with the community.

How come. After all this time.

Even with all the Venom fics on ao3.

I have not found ONE FIC

NOT

ONE

That is Humans Are Space Orcs?

[ixylle-d-from-the-stars]

Thinking about AUs...

I have this idea for a "Humans Are Space Orcs' AU, but I can't decide for who! (based on characters, never CCs themselves) First option, SBI children (Techno, Wilbur, Tommy) Second Option, Glowduo! (Ranboo, Aimsey) ANyway letting yall decide bc IM AVOIDING RESPONSIBILITY- (pspspps yes there will be other characters i'm just wondering who to make it centered/centric)

[what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me]

Does anyone else remember when humans are space orcs was all over tumblr. Anyways. Can’t believe I haven’t posted about my Kirby space orcs au ever

[sa-filonzana]

Incontri Ravvicinati Del Terzo Tipo: Alimentazione

Humans Are Deathworlders - Polyamory - Aliens!Submas - Human!Reader - AFAB!Reader - Abduction - AU

Giorno terrestre 4.315

I due alieni sono precipitati qui su SN/33 già da una settimana terrestre, e nonostante il nostro inizio roccioso, i nostri rapporti stanno migliorando giorno dopo giorno.

Nobori e Kudari stanno ancora valutando i danni alla loro navicella, così non hanno potuto aiutarmi nel fare scorta di proteine. Con loro qui, le mie proviste di carne e pesce stanno diminuendo molto velocemente. Comunque, ieri sera a cena ho fatto una scoperta importante, i due sono omnivori! Pianificare i pasti per tutti ora sarà molto più facile!

Ho intenzione nei prossimi giorni di far loro provare una gran varietà di prodotti alimentari coltivati all'interno della stazione spaziale e vedere cosa gli piaccia e non gli piaccia. E soprattutto ciò che devo evitare di dar loro e cosa no.

Ora sono proprio curiosa di scoprire se possono digerire proteine vegetali o no. Se fosse un sì, potrei far loro provare alcuni dei svariati legumi e simili conservati nella cambusa. E non finire per dovermi preoccupare che mi muoiono di fame sotto gli occhi per sbaglio. Procacciarsi della carne su questa luna è un bella faticaccia, e per quanto l'isola su cui sono atterrata sia grande, non desidero allontanarmi troppo dalla stazione spaziale per inseguire uno dei branchi che la vagano.

Così facendo posso conservare la carne per Momotti e S'Agabbadora che sono entrambi carnivori puri. Certo, implemento la loro dieta anche con altri alimenti per assicurarmi che abbiano tutti i nutrimenti giusti, ma ciò non cambia che un gatto e un dracoplumas allo stato brado mangiano solo carne.

E penso di averlo già detto altre volte, ma non sono mai stata più felice che gli scienziati avessero un intero livello della stazione come un grande immenso vivaio. Altrimenti vivere qui su SN/33 sarebbe stato molto più difficile.

...comunque non posso fare a meno di pensare alle loro espressioni preoccupate quando mi hanno rivelato che erano omnivori, o come le loro spalle si sono afflosciate in sollievo alla mia reazione entusiasta alla notizia.

Ho come l'impressione che il fatto che siano omnivori non sia ben visto, e per come si sono comportati penso che questo sia uno stigma presente sul loro pianeta natale, o almeno la loro razza.

Dovrei indagare?

[analoceits]

ITS HERE!!!!! HUMANS ARE DEATHWORLDERS AU!!

(note: itd be silly for me not to mention that this is inspired by @delimeful's teoba and wibar fics!! go read them!! right now!!)

for those who do not know what humans are deathworlders is, its a sci-fi trope based off the concept that humans, compared to other intelligent life, are SCARILY strong because of the climate of our planet.

if you have any questions abt this au PLEASE feel free to send them. its taking up so SO much brainspace and theres SO much lore in my head already i need to ramble

[dillydallydove]

A piece I did for the lovely @warcats-cat of her, patton, and some baby ampens (from delimeful’s wibar au)

I envision ampens with little raccoon hands perfect for grabbing and climbing on deathworlders

[nin-jay-go]

for morrotober i posted a pirate au thing, and like 2 ppl were interested in it, but then i didn't think about it for a while KJSHFKJKJH but uhhh yea i have a full fledged treasure planet au because i can't keep away from funky alien stuff

here's the crew! minus wu bc he didn't fit into the scene but he's here in spirit lol (he's the captain) he can be taking the photo

brief synopsis before i go ramble under the cut: kai, cole, jay, and zane all met when they stole the golden tech-weapons from a museum, then when the weapons called them all to each other again, they formed a crew to take down garmadon and then just do general space pirate stuff. they're only considered pirates bc they do slightly illegal stuff in the name of good, but everyone hails them as heroes (except the actually bad pirate crews they dismantle)

anywayz feel free to send in asks because OH MY GOD IVE PUT SO MUCH EFFORT INTO WORLDBUILDING

vwoop here i go

kai, nya, and cole are humans. well, cole was human but i'll get to him later. this is a universe where humans are space orcs, so they're referred to as deathworlders more often than not. jay's an alien, raised on earth, and lloyd is half alien, raised on a moon colony. zane and pixal are automatons, though built on different planets, so their technology is a bit different. wu is fully alien and the same species lloyd is.

speaking of which, wu and lloyd are the captains. wu is the actual captain, and lloyd is the captain that they show off. he has a cool mech suit that hides the fact that he's a child (bc i didn't age him up). they're a species known as dragoni, ancient beings of creation and destruction that have witnessed the birth of the universe. wu hides his status as a dragoni from the public, and lloyd hasn't quite learned how to shapeshift his dragoni traits away.

nya's the first mate because she makes good decisions and also has a mech suit, and she's absolutely terrifying. people are right to fear her, and most of the time are more afraid of her than they are of the actual captain.

kai's the fighter and crew big brother. he's always the one to make sure everyone's safe and accounted for, and he's the one that takes the longest watches (other than the automatons and cole). he's also, alongside wu, in charge of finances, and can handle weapons in a pinch. he kinda does anything he wants on the ship tbh

zane's the cook and sniper. he likes ranged weapons and is pretty adept with guns, so he likes hanging out in the crow's nest to keep an eye out for things. he's also the only one who can cook, so they trust him to make good food.

jay's the engineer and shipwright. he's a species known as a lectrite, which have an innate sense for when lightnign's about to hit. he also can tell when storms are coming, so he helps pixal with navigation if they see a storm on the horizon.

cole's the muscle and helmsman. he's an infected ghost (because the ghost species pass on the "curse" through infection), used to be human, and the strongest member of the crew. he doesn't really need his legs anymore, so all his strength is in his arms now.

pixal is the navigator and other helmsman, when cole isn't available. she's also one of the best fighters on board, and is unafraid to kick ass. she might as well be the second mate at this point, because she kicks just. so much ass. she's so cool. she also assists with shipwrighting stuff with jay.

[delimeful]

WIBAR Intermission: Visiting Home (1/3)

G/T July Day 17: Home

this intermission has 3 parts, taking place during different points in the WIBAR timeline. this chapter takes place before LMMR/Act 2 of WIBAR! baby time :)

shoutout to nyn for inspiring the last scene with Roman at the end! 

warnings: negative assumptions, mentions of blood/hunting/injury, mild fear/nervousness, other than that it's all fluff (literally)

-

Despite the tension buzzing at the back of his skull, Virgil found that being planetside again was surprisingly… nice.

He would have preferred that it was an uninhabited area— or at least, that it wasn’t one of the only places in the universe that had aliens he really, really couldn’t afford to terrify— but he couldn’t deny that feeling the ground under his feet and the sunlight on his skin was soothing, a balm he hadn’t known he’d needed.

It wasn’t the same as Earth, not really, but Patton’s home planet was close enough to familiar that he found tension seeping from his overwrought muscles despite himself.

He shook some of the dazed contentment off, flicking a glance over his shoulder and reminding himself that if any of the locals saw him, it could spell Capital-D Disaster.

His little excursion into one of the less populated natural areas near the little port town was entirely unplanned, and all the riskier for it, but they simply hadn’t had any better options.

Patton had been putting off visiting his family for longer than anyone would have liked— first with the excuse of healing from his injuries, and then with the financial strain that had come from his crewmates dedicating the bulk of their time to searching for him, rather than doing their usual delivery and transport jobs.

(The strain of providing for an entire new off-the-books crewmate, too, Virgil knew. He tried to avoid taking up too much, resource-wise, but there was only so little he could eat before his symptoms went from barely-tolerable to unmanageable.

The adrenaline crash and resulting sprains after he’d intervened in the raiders’ attack had been a painful reminder that most days, his body felt like it was barely holding together at the seams.)

Finally, they’d managed to weave together a cover story believable enough that the trip was set in motion, with the caveat that Patton would go planetside to visit, and Virgil would stay on the ship, up in orbit, firmly out of range of discovery.

Patton hated the idea of lying to his loved ones, wanted more than anything to introduce Virgil and prove he wasn’t the monster the galaxy thought he was, but even his stubborn optimism hadn’t held up under the combined forces of the other 3/4ths of the crew.

It was too dangerous for word to get out about Virgil, especially after the close call they’d already had, narrowly averted thanks to Remyy. Between Logan’s points on the historical government response to rumors of rogue humans, Roman’s assertions that bounty hunters of all kinds would begin targeting them, and Virgil’s own intense discomfort with the idea of his existence being revealed to others when he’d only just gotten free, Patton had conceded, if a bit morosely.

So, things had proceeded according to plan… right up until Patton’s clutchmates commed in, requesting that they bring the Mindscape down so that they could fill Patton’s quarters and kitchen with a variety of gifts and supplies to remind him of home after he left.

Patton hadn’t been informed. A surprise, they’d said, meant to show their love and care for their sibling in a way that would linger as long as possible.

It was a cultural custom, apparently, and Patton’s hard headed tendencies must have run in the family, because they’d refused to take no for an answer without a good reason.

Unfortunately for the reason in question, informing them that there was another crew member onboard who couldn’t be seen by anyone else would only defeat the purpose of staying off planet in the first place.

And so, after very intense sweep of the ship to hide away any trace of Virgil’s presence, he’d swept his old cloak around his shoulders, followed Logan offboard, and let himself be guided to what seemed to be an unoccupied area of the coastal jungle that surrounded the local populace.

Logan had requested he stay in the general area until he returned from corralling the busybody relatives, and then rushed back to the ship where Roman waited, looking more harried than Virgil had ever seen him.

It was an awkward, stressful situation, sure. But he still couldn’t help but marvel a little at the thick, dark fronds of the trees and the almost powdery texture of the grey-white sand beneath his feet.

He hadn’t gotten very many chances to actually appreciate the wonder of being in space, on alien planets, with how much of his stay so far had either been locked in cages aboard ships or on the run, too busy trying to survive to take in the scenery.

Running his fingers over the corkscrew-patterned bark of one of the nearby tree trunks, Virgil didn’t notice the slight rustling of a nearby brush.

—

Marren had thought the alien an intruder at first, had skidded to a halt and narrowly avoided toppling out of the underbrush right in front of them.

Behind her, Robbyn and Denel tumbled against her back with the beginnings of peeped complaints at the interruption of their game.

“Ssst!” Marren made a whistle that was more air than sound, her baby feathers ruffling up in pre-emptive upset. “Quiet, there’s a stranger!”

Unlike any other game, her playmates immediately went silent, eyes growing round and nervous. They all knew better than to catch the attention of a maybe-dangerous unfamiliar alien.

Especially now. One of the older kids had told horror stories about smugglers when the grown-ups weren’t listening, insisting that straying fledglings would get all their feathers shredded off and fed to the horrible monsters at the bottom of the Spacesea, where starlight and ships alike couldn’t reach.

They’d gotten in big trouble for the tall tales, but the story had already been taken up by the waves and couldn’t be squashed, especially with the fearful but dedicated belief of younger fledglings.

“Is it a monster?” Denel asked, already looking more fluff than form.

Marren… couldn’t really tell.

They were huge, even bigger than the Draellex spacefarer who had come to do a presentation for her class last season, but most of their features were also obscured by the long, deep grey cloak that they were swathed in.

“They’ve got hands,” she reported instead, because the stranger was touching various plants and rocks with nubby, strangely smooth fingers. “No claws, though.”

“Maybe a trader ship came early?” Robbyn offered thoughtfully. Their downy soft pink feathers were the least fluffed up between the three of them, their gaze focused on the alien with an intense curiosity.

“We woulda seen it, right?” Marren replied dubiously, before going quiet for a moment as the hooded head of the stranger turned and paused as though listening.

She didn’t continue until they turned back to their slow inspection of the wildlife, letting out a tiny peep-peep-peep of relief. “The only ship that came down is Uptel Patton’s, and he’s only got two playmates.”

She’d only met one of her Uptel’s friends in person, and only when she was a baby baby, way before her first molt, so she barely remembered it, but there were plenty of pictures in her Elder Uptel Farrun’s home. Patton’s parents were always happy to talk about their spacefarer son, and Marren always got a fun trinket from her Uptel when he visited.

Well. Almost always.

He’d seemed very distracted when she’d seen him this morning, enough that he’d barely noticed her amongst the many relatives that had swarmed to greet him after his longer than usual absence.

Something bad had happened to him, Marren had been told, which had made his parents’ home feel all sad-grief-loss whenever she visited, but he was all better now.

She wasn’t so sure. Everyone around him had felt like relief-joy-kinship at the sight of him, sure, but her Uptel had never flinched away from preening before.

“Maybe he got a new one?” Denel asked, still half-hidden behind Robbyn but not quite as frightened.

Marren made a considering chirp, and then began shuffling under the wiry branches as quietly as possible, seeking out a closer bush.

“Where are you going?” both of her playmates asked in very different tones.

“Gonna look closer,” she replied, and then froze as the answer carried farther than she meant it to.

The stranger turned sharper this time, and searched the clearing with tiny back-and-forth movements of their head.

“Patton?” they called after a moment, and Marren almost startled back in shock: the alien had spoken Uptel Patton’s actual name, not the Common version, and sounded uncannily close to an actual Ampen.

If it weren’t for how impossibly big the stranger was, she might have thought it was a simple prank, a couple of older kids stacked on top of each other under a form-disguising cloak.

Her gaze trailed down and finally focused on the familiar glow coming from the shadowed neckline of the cloak. She would know that glow anywhere!

“They’ve gotta special charm!” she crowed, and pushed past the branches to dart out into the open, intent on inspecting her Uptel’s newest friend.

Patton’s friend stumbled back hard with a sharp inhale, and Marren abruptly remembered that it wasn’t polite to startle people, especially strangers, and slowed to a stop. She angled her head up to try and peer into the shadows of the hood, squinting her eyes almost closed in as innocent and friendly a look as possible.

“I’m Marren,” she introduced herself, using the little bit of Common that her Uptel had taught her. “The stars greet you and so do I!”

That kind of greeting was more for actually being up in space with all the stars, but she figured it was the thought that counted.

Patton’s friend muttered something in an unfamiliar language, their tone soft, and then lowered themself to a seated position, much slower than they’d moved before. “My name is Virgil. It’s… nice to sea you?”

Marren let out a peal of chirping laughter, nearly knocking herself off balance with the force of her amusement.

That was definitely one of Uptel Patton’s friends, alright. He was the only bondrelative she had who put silly word jokes in his greetings like that.

“Can I sea you?” she shot back brightly, and when that didn’t seem to make it through, she pretended to move an invisible hood down from her own head.

Friend Virgil went all stiff for a moment, before speaking again. “I don’t think… uh, that’s not a good idea. I’m… I’m shy.”

Marren was distracted for a moment by puzzling through the words; it was an odd combination of Common and Ampen words, some of them a little smushed together until they almost seemed like a new word entirely.

Once the meaning behind the answer registered, though, she made a long, protesting whistle. “I’m not gonna be mean to you! Denel’s shy, too, you guys can get along!”

“Denel?” Friend Virgil echoed, again pronouncing the name eerily accurately, and Marren heard a little peep of alarm from behind her.

Antennae twitching with frustration, she turned and gave the bushes her best irritated stare, fluffing up indignantly. “They’re Patton’s friend! They’ve gotta be nice to me, I’m his favorite telit! Stop acting so new-hatched!”

“You’re his only little cousin,” Robbyn was speaking to her as they hopped into view, but their wide eyes were locked on Friend Virgil like they’d just found a shiny new stone. “Can they talk?”

“Kinda,” Marren chirped back, since it seemed like Friend Virgil knew more of the spacefarer tongue than their native one. “I know enough space words to translate! Probably.”

“You’re going to hurt your throat,” Robbyn cautioned in their best know-it-all voice. Marren was saved from having to answer by the thud of Denel tripping his own way out of the bush.

With his underlayer all fluffed out like that, it was no wonder that he accidentally rolled a few feather-lengths along the ground, squawking in high-pitched, babyish alarm as he tumbled.

Friend Virgil leaned forward so quickly that even Marren peeped in surprise, but all they did was set a humongous cupped hand next to Denel to keep him from toppling any further. Denel pulled all his limbs in with a panicked squeak as he bumped into the helping hand, and turned his head to peer up at Friend Virgil nervously.

“Safe and sound,” Friend Virgil crooned, in the sort of lullaby sing-song tone that was usually used to soothe hatchlings. “Okay, good, okay?”

It took Denel a stunned moment to respond, but when he chirped affirmative, the waver in his whistle had faded to almost nothing. He slowly uncurled, and even reached out for balance as he got back upright, looking absolutely awestruck.

He was way more aether-sensitive than most fledglings, Marren recalled, which meant that Friend Virgil must have been radiating some deeply trustworthy energy. As always, she had been totally right! Of course Patton’s friend was nice!

Marren wasted no time in spinning back around and darting up to Friend Virgil’s legs, giving them her best pleading expression.

“See? We can all be friends, you’re big-nice and nobody will be mean to you! Please please please?”

—

Virgil was not good with kids.

Specifically, he wasn’t good at saying no to kids.

Back home, they’d always picked up on it the moment they saw him, like sharks catching the scent of blood in the water, except the sharks were twelve year olds and the blood was Virgil’s inability to tell them not to draw on him in sharpie.

He’d finally found something that humans and aliens had in common, it seemed, because Marren– the apparent leader of the little group– had immediately figured out exactly how to use the Ampen version of puppy dog eyes against him. It was like nature had designed them as adorable feathery pom-pom creatures as a tactic designed to target him, specifically.

He hadn’t stood a chance.

As such, he found himself seated in the middle of the small clearing, his hood lowered and face exposed for anyone to see, being used as an actual, literal human jungle gym by a bunch of chirping alien fuzzballs.

The playtime racket must have been attracting more, because it felt like every time he looked up, three or four entirely new bundles of fluff had appeared, racing around his feet or climbing up the side of his cloak, chattering between themselves in strings of tweets and whistles.

The namecall they used for him wasn’t quite accurate, sounding more like ‘frrr-kul’ with a rolling trill followed by a chirp that only occasionally resembled the latter half of his name. They seemed to have a much harder time than Patton making the non-bird sort of syllables, which made sense, seeing as they were itty bitty babies.

“Frrrr-kul!” one of them called gleefully, summoning him over to the other side of the clearing for the newest round of whatever it was they were playing.

Virgil wasn’t ashamed to admit that something in his chest squeezed a bit as another fledgling turned dizzying little loop-de-loops in front of him, presumably leading him over to the new spot. For once, the heart palpitations he was experiencing around strange aliens were almost entirely cuteness-induced.

Almost, because there was still a solid chunk of his brain panicking viciously about how tiny and soft and fragile they all were, hence him moving at the pace of a seasick slug.

Marren had put forward a half-hearted complaint about how slow he was moving, to no avail. As it turned out, the only thing more compelling to him than a kid’s heartfelt request was the fear of accidentally hurting one of them.

It had taken him at least fifteen minutes just to stop flinching every time one of them fell or flung themself off of his knee or shoulder or— for one very stealthy candidate— his head, only to tumble lightly back to the ground unharmed, the impact entirely cushioned by their fluff.

He’d caught the first five or six on sheer instinct, which had only prompted even more to partake in the fun new ‘game’, until he gave up and accepted his fate as a living launch pad. Thankfully for his stress levels and long-term heart health, they had moved onto another game quickly enough.

He was slightly less thankful that every game so far had included him being scampered over, without exception, but he should have figured as much just from being friends with Patton, honestly.

His latest role seemed to be a very ill patient, as one of Marren’s friends walked around—and on— him carefully, calling out chirped instructions and sending the rest of the participants scrambling into the nearby brush. Within a few moments, they’d return with leaves, twigs, and other forest detritus, which would then be painstakingly applied to the top of his hand, or his chin, or wherever else the ‘doctor’ gestured to. Half the time, the makeshift bandages would flutter off the moment Virgil shifted even a little, prompting chitters of delight as the kids hurried to re-apply them.

Still better than any healthcare he’d gotten on Earth, honestly.

Seeing as his current job was to lay in place morosely like that guy from the Operation board game, he eventually closed his eyes and let himself relax a little, trying to hide an irrepressible closed-lip smile.

A few rounds later, he heard a chorus of what sounded like Patton’s favorite greeting chirp, but in a range of much higher pitches. He cracked his eyes open, expecting another gaggle of fledglings had showed up, and instead found that Logan was standing at the edge of the clearing, arms all dropped limply to his sides in shock.

Virgil went tense, only managing to repress his flinch because a good portion of his brain was still dedicated to monitoring where all the babies were around him, and currently at least ten were clinging onto his person. “Okay, listen. This was not my idea.”

Logan carefully tucked his hands behind his back in what Virgil first mistook for a polite gesture, only to emerge with what was unmistakably the portable camera he used whenever he was collecting video data for later.

“...Really?”

Whirr-click. Logan didn’t even bother looking apologetic as he began recording Virgil’s pint-sized tormentors. “If Patton didn’t get a memento of this, he would never forgive me, facetiously speaking.”

Rolling his eyes, Virgil slowly shifted up to his elbows, a startling amount of leaves fluttering down from his hair. A tentative hand feeling around in his hair revealed a fluffy stowaway, who peeped in displeasure as Virgil carefully disentangled them.

Talk about having a bird’s nest for hair. That was probably a sign that he needed a trim, but for now he could only laugh to himself, using two fingers to try and soothe the ruffled feathers of the fledgling that had apparently seen his head as prime real estate.

“You’re… very good with them,” Logan commented, shuffling closer with uncharacteristic tentativeness. “Is it normal to take on a parental role for children that aren’t under your care on Earth?”

Virgil snorted, and then leaned forward a little to help keep one of the more tenacious fledglings clinging to him from losing their grip. “It depends on the person, but honestly? A lot of humans are total suckers for anything cute making baby sounds, human or not. Sometimes to the point that the keener wildlife will take advantage of it and lead us to babies that are injured or out of reach because they know that odds are, a human will help.”

“Truly? Non-domesticated species, as well?” Logan replied, visibly distracted from his slow approach by the implications. “Cooperative dynamics between sapient species and local fauna are present on many planets, but for almost all studied Deathworlds, such a thing is unheard of. The risk is higher in harsher environments, where a much more competitive nature is required for survival.”

“Yeah, for real. I used to work as an assistant… uh. An assistant animal-healer, and people were always bringing in abandoned babies they’d found. Sometimes they were actually in need of help, but sometimes they definitely weren’t,” Virgil huffed a little at the memories, holding still as a fledgling took a running leap to jump from one of his knees to the other. “It was well-intentioned, though. Lots of people hate to see a baby left alone and jump to conclusions, since you’d never do that with a human infant.”

Logan’s hands twitched, and Virgil carefully shrugged one shoulder, giving him permission to record the information.

“Just make sure you don’t write stuff about babies or kids down where anyone could get to it,” he cautioned, chewing on the edge of his lip. “I trust you, but I don’t trust, y’know… the rest of space. Better safe than sorry, right?”

“Correct,” Logan confirmed, having heard that exact catchphrase from Virgil probably about twelve times a week. “Am I alright to approach?”

“What?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, of course, just be careful. I mean, you’re definitely safer for them to be around than me.”

There was a relieved angle to Logan’s ears as he stepped forward, nimbly avoiding a few of the fledglings chasing each other back and forth like feathered tumbleweeds. “I disagree. They seem quite safe in your hands,” he said. “I have no doubt that Patton would be ecstatic to know that you’ve managed to make some friends amongst his kin despite our need for secrecy.”

Right. His cover had been blown five minutes in by the Ampen equivalent of a bunch of grade-schoolers. Crap.

“Let your mind remain at ease,” Logan added, either correctly reading the panic on his face or just guessing from the not-inconsiderable experience he had with Virgil. “With Ampens this young, I’m certain that your positive impression as a playmate will be the bulk of what they mention to their families. I’ve already heard a few of them refer to you as ‘Patton’s shy friend,’ so I imagine most will come up with the rest of the answer on their own assumptions.”

"'Patton's shy friend'?" Virgil felt his ears redden as his face heated up, and there was a chorus of delighted whistle-squeals from the nearest fledglings.

“You change colors just like Uptel Patton!” Marren shouted excitedly, and, well.

There were at least four different species of alien he knew of that shifted colors in all sorts of ways, from a gradual chameleon shift to the rapid flush of an octopus. This was one trait that wasn’t likely to make anyone think ‘Human’.

“Do another color!” A small harmony of encouraging peeps and eager gazes.

“Uh…,” Virgil cast a helpless look of his own Logan’s way. “I mean, I can probably do purple if I hold my breath for long enough?”

“Alright,” Logan cut in urgently,“I think it’s time that Virgil get back to the ship, actually, you’ll have to play with him again the next time we come to visit. Yes, yes, everyone off now…”

–

Miraculously, they’d managed to get through the entire impromptu visit without either of Patton’s flockmates seeing any errant belongings, broken cabinets, or any other indications of the highly illegal and infamous Deathworlder they definitely had onboard.

Roman let out an exhausted snort, trying not to shift impatiently as he stood by the boarding platform and waited for Logan to return with Virgil. If Patton was there, he would have given him a disappointed look for being so blatantly untrusting, but he wasn’t, and it had been a long day, so Roman could be on edge if he wanted to, okay?!

Thankfully, Logan chose that moment to step out from the shade of the forested area, exchanging an assessing look with Roman before deeming the path clear and beckoning Virgil to follow him on board.

The Human padded after Logan, footsteps eerily quiet as always, and… huh. He looked a lot less stressed than he’d seemed when they’d all but shoved him off the ship a few hours ago. Roman tried not to feel immensely suspicious about it, but he glanced down to check his hands for blood anyhow.

He was mostly sure that the Human didn’t actually have any murderous designs, especially not on anyone from Patton’s hometown, but they’d set him loose in a random forest with little to no guidance. Roman couldn’t rule out the idea that Virgil had entertained himself by hunting down some of the local fauna or something.

There was nothing, though, and so he forced his eyes away and checked in briefly with Logan instead. See? He could be cordial when he wanted to! He was a beacon of toleration, okay?

The claim fell a little flat even in his own mind, but he was promptly distracted by the tiniest hint of a whistle. He straightened up, alarm shooting through him as he swiveled his head this way and that, searching for any surprise witnesses.

His gaze fell on the Human as Virgil passed him to board the ship, and Roman stiffened at the sight of three fluffy bundles perched in the swoop of the Human’s hood. “Stop right there!”

Virgil went still, shoulders hunching upward like a bristle and eyes bizarrely wide, and Roman let his tail scrape from side to side for a moment as he glowered, only growing more certain of his guilt.

“I knew it, those are fledglings! Let them go this instant,” he started, planning to end with a suitable threat to ensure the safety of the smallest and most vulnerable of Patton’s kin, only for the Human to somehow go even more stiff and frozen.

“Oh my god, where?” He hunched over slightly, eyes flickering down to scan over his front and arms. “Are they okay?”

Roman pulled up short, admittedly disoriented at the show of clear and abrupt concern. One of the fledglings cheeped in dismay, and Virgil’s head tilted, following the sound.

“Guys, that’s not safe,” he groaned, and then repeated it in Ampen tongue. “Not safe. Not good, not safe, okay?”

His hand twitched up like he was going to reach for them, but then he hesitated for a moment, before slowly turning around so that his hood faced Roman. “Can you help them out? I know they’ve got all the feathers and stuff to keep them safe, but I still don’t want… I don’t want to jostle the hood and knock them out or something.”

“I… yes,” Roman said, feeling like he’d just been hit by a paralyzer shot. He reached out and scooped the fledglings out of their makeshift nest, watching as Virgil’s shoulders grew more and more taut. The Human didn’t trust him, but he held still anyways. “You’ve got, ah. Leaves and twigs. In your head pocket.”

“I bet I do,” he muttered, before taking a few slightly too-fast steps away once he’d checked that his fuzzy passengers had been evacuated. With soft, cautious movements, he patted down the rest of himself, including his other pockets and even the folds of his overcloak. “I think I’m good.”

“That was very dangerous,” Roman scolded, looking down at the trio with disapproval.

Virgil shuffled slightly, looking at him more directly than he usually did. After a moment, he spoke. “They’re fine, right? It’s not their fault, they just think it’s a game.They’re… they’re only babies.”

This was what worry looked like on a Human, Roman realized with a jolt, and managed to choke down his initial offense at the very idea that he would hurt them. He’d assumed the same at first glance, hadn’t he? Virgil had never seen him with kits before, and didn't know very much about him. Roman hadn’t exactly been sharing information or encouraging any bonding, and it wasn’t like the Mindscape had provided very many opportunities for interacting with younglings thus far.

Stars, he hoped there hadn’t been any kids on the smuggler ship. The very idea made him sick.

“Of course they’re fine,” he replied a bit shortly, cradling them a little closer. “Kits will be kits. They didn’t mean any harm, like you said.”

“Oh. Okay, that’s good,” Virgil said, some of that odd tension falling away. He looked back down at the kids. “Uh. Bye, little guys. Stay safe.”

He mimicked a farewell trill with uncanny accuracy, and the fledglings all echoed it with varying levels of mournfulness. Virgil waved as he edged his way up the ship’s ramp backwards, like he thought the kids would ambush him the moment he took his eyes off of them.

Seeing as these three had somehow snuck past a Human’s senses, Roman almost couldn’t blame him.

“When I next see Patton, I’m going to tell him to have a serious talk with you all about being too adventurous, you hear me? Crewmates are not for climbing,” Roman lectured as he carried them back to the main path. He paused to think about how hypocritical that lesson would be coming from Patton, who took any excuse to perch on Virgil. “Oh, for stars’ sake.”

Well, whatever. This was just a one-off. What were the odds they would ever be bringing the Human back here, anyhow?

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Hypermobility

Okay wait I have a prompt!!! If you wanna So I've been reading a lot of fics recently that are in space aus, with the whole humans are deathworlders concept (idk how this is common across my fandoms but it is so I'm binging them lol). And I had an idea based on recent irl events. – anon (long ask, cut for brevity)

inspired by my lovely @ghostofasecretary who has trained all of our friend group to look for hypermobility on account of our schlorpy joints :)

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: loosely implied analogical i guess, but as with most of my shit can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count; 1809

Remus glances up to see Virgil staring at Logan like his abdomen has spontaneously ruptured. He sees Roman out of the corner of his eye do the same. Virgil swallows heavily. "L," he says slowly, "what the fuck is wrong with your arms?" "Nothing is wrong with my arms, what are you talking about?" "Elbows don't bend like that!" Ah. So there was something wrong. Remus was right. Take that, human etiquette manual. Wait, shit, something's wrong with Logan.

Roman clicks at Remus as he comes onto the lab floor. Remus clicks back as he logs onto his station, sighing as he looks at the absolute mess someone's fucking made of the logs—seriously, it's only been one quarter cycle, how are they this fucked up already?—and Roman immediately leans over to see what he's sighing at.

"Wait, what's that?"

"Some xetron made an absolute fucking disaster out of the hadron logs."

Roman winces in sympathy and his carapace shifts. "Are you gonna do yours before you clean that up, or—?"

The last part of his question gest interrupted when Logan comes onto the floor, waving a brief hello with his fingers instead of his antenna—because humans don't have antennae, which was a pretty sharp learning curve for both of them when they'd been so confused as to why this human was refusing to talk to them or even show his feelings, they'd had a few apologetic shifts before Logan realized what was going on and explained everything—and raising an eyebrow when he noticed them clustered around Remus's station.

"Is there something wrong?"

"The shift before us messed up their hadron logs."

Logan rolls his eyes. "You'd think that for life forms insistent that their gravitational curves made them more naturally prepared for graviton scans, they'd have a better sense of how to record them properly."

"You're spellcasting on the acolytes, Logan."

Logan frowns, glancing at his tablet, before the equivalent phrase pings on the screen and he hums. "Ah, I see. Yes, well, if you'd like my help at any point, I only have the routine gamma sweeps to do this shift, so I should be amenable."

"Oh, I can do it, it's just a pain in my thorax."

Roman chuckles and heads back to his own station, probably to sneakily-not-so-sneakily ask some of the others on the shift who are fucking competent what the fuck happened. Remus gets himself ready to dive into the long and tedious work of redoing the spin increments and calculating the proper uncertainties for the right variables—honestly, do they even look at the readouts? It has the layout right there! And it's not like the other logs are invisible! Just look at the rows two microns above the empty one you're supposed to be filling out!—and manages to sink into a rhythm for the first half of the shift. Granted, he's absolutely muttering about how stupid it is that they aren't even calculating the basic momentum, let alone the angular velocity to account for the other celestial bodies in the middle of the waveforms, but it's fine, and Roman keeps up his running commentary of the molecular analysis machine that takes its sweet-ass time to do even the most basic of scans, and every so often he'll hear a small huff from Logan as he corrects their probe's trajectory, but for the most part, the lab is a quiet and serene place to be.

God, he can't wait until he gets rotated back to the engineering department full-time.

Like, yeah, he likes spending time with his brother, and the human's cool—he's really funny when he lets himself be, like his wit is drying than the mountain deserts on Cre-Ativa, and his facial expressions are fucking plat when their superiors are being xetrons, but there's only so much he can take of this quiet where not much happens. And he has to deal with the idiots who don't know how to format hadron logs correctly. This is the third time he's had to correct a typo that's rendered the rest of the calculations useless.

"I'm honestly about to recommend them for a review of the training course, that's how fucking serious this is."

"Maybe there's something wrong with how the keyboard is adapted for their limbs?"

"That would explain some of the typos, not all of them. And it definitely wouldn't explain why there's a massive formatting change about halfway through."

"Perhaps there's a shorthand they're using for some of the notes that we don't know about, and they're forgetting to correct them at the end of their shift."

"Yeah, but then they should tell us that, instead of—" Roman trails off and Remus looks up.

Logan is…stretching, yes, that's the right word. His limbs are extended over his head and his back is arched, but his upper limbs are…bending. Not like the way they normally bend, they're bending…too much? Not enough? The wrong way? Yeah, that's it. The wrong way.

Logan notices they've gone quiet and looks over. "Is there something wrong?"

"You're, uh," Remus stammers, "are you—okay?"

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine, what is it?"

"Nothing, nothing."

He and Roman exchange a look—the first rule in the human etiquette training manual was if they get weird, just roll with it for a reason—and get back to minding their own business. Admittedly, some of the errors do make more sense now that he's looking at it like it's some kind of shorthand he doesn't know yet, but that wouldn't explain why some of these variables are straight-up wrong and why they wouldn't bother to tell him what the shorthand is so that he's not trying to do the work of two shifts in the time of one.

Something he does appreciate is that the way the shifts in the lab are set up, opposed to engineering, is that sometimes there will be people whose shifts halfway overlap with theirs. So there's always at least one set of people that are staying in the lab while a changeover is happening and then there's not that risk that the equipment will be left unattended. Apparently they learned that lesson the hard way when the molecular exhibitor decided to go into overload in the five minutes where there wasn't anyone logged in, and nearly destroyed the matter wave projector on the station next to it. The justification was in the name of safety, but really everyone knows it's just so the higher-ups know exactly who to blame when shit goes awry.

Whatever the case may be, the door slides open to reveal the other human down here, Virgil, yawning as he makes his way over to his station.

"Hello, hello, everyone."

"Hi, Virgil!"

Virgil winces. "You are way too chipper this early in the morning."

"It's past the circadian half cycle, Virgil."

"Yeah, and?"

"I'm afraid you're going to have to acclimate to your schedule on your own time," Logan says, stretching again, "even though I'm sure your caffeine tolerance has—what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Remus glances up to see Virgil staring at Logan like his abdomen has spontaneously ruptured. He sees Roman out of the corner of his eye do the same. Virgil swallows heavily.

"L," he says slowly, "what the fuck is wrong with your arms?"

"Nothing is wrong with my arms, what are you talking about?"

"Elbows don't bend like that!"

Ah. So there was something wrong. Remus was right. Take that, human etiquette manual.

Wait, shit, something's wrong with Logan.

"Logan? Do we need to take you to medbay?" Roman's already rushing out from behind his station. "There's a pack in the corner, I can—"

"Oh, for—relax, all of you, I'm fine."

"Uh-huh, yeah, fine, that's what I'd describe elbows that bend all schlorpy as, yeah," Virgil says, "what the—does that not hurt?"

"What? No, it doesn't hurt, look, your joints—"

"My joints suck ass but at least they're fucking bending the amount they're supposed to!"

Remus isn't quite sure how human joints are capable of such a surprising and invasive act, but never let it be said he's not curious. "Your joints are capable of performing anal suction?"

"What the fuck? No! It's a turn of phrase!"

"Oh. Disappointing."

"Ignore him," Roman says, "Logan, are you sure you're—"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, I'm just—oh," he mumbles, prodding at his tablet, "what's the word for this in Common?"

"There's no word for schlorpy elbows, Logan—"

"Yes, there is!" He pokes around for a few more seconds before he lets out a noise of triumph and says something that the translators don't translate.

"It's what?" Virgil just shakes his head when Logan tries again. "I don't know what that means, bud."

Logan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, let me try it this way. What's it called when you are in a state of heightened energy and it leads to outbursts of things like running around, or talking too loudly, or being high-strung?"

"Remus," Roman offers helpfully.

"No, Roman."

"Are you talking about being excitable?"

"No, there's a specific word for it. It also serves as a prefix for being too much of something, or an overabundance of something."

"Too much—do you mean the word hyper?"

"Yes! Yes, that's it. And then what's the name of the thing that some people hang over cribs that have little stars or animals?"

Virgil stares at Logan for another moment. "You mean a baby mobile?"

"Yes, but only the second word."

"Mobile?"

"Yes, that's it. Then put the two words together—"

"There were probably so many other ways you could've said you were hypermobile, L, I'm just gonna put that out there—"

"Well, it got you to guess it, didn't it?"

"It's too fucking early for this shit."

"Again, it is afternoon—"

"Shut up."

Roman looks back and forth between the two humans, still twitching as though he's going to be asked to sprint for the medbay at a moment's notice. "So…is Logan…are you alright?"

"Yes, for the fourth time, I'm fine. Virgil's just a little excitable, that's all."

"You try being normal when joints are doing unexpected things," Virgil mumbles, more to his caf than anything else, but he reaches behind himself to pat Roman's carapace. "He's fine, his body just does that."

"But you said it bends the wrong way, how is that fine?"

"There is a thing known as hypermobility," Logan says, "it…oh, dear, it basically means that certain joints will bend…more."

"He's not hurt, that's pretty much all I know."

Roman looks like he's about to protest but Remus just clicks at him. They exchange another look as the humans settle back to work.

Humans are weird, just gotta roll with it.

These hadron logs, on the other hand—

"I'm gonna punt these flimflobbers into the next star we see."

"Can I help? They fucked up the carbon dating program as well."

"How do you fuck that up?"

"Ask them, not me!"

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[resident-sentinel]

Marlena's Shop: Sign the waiver.

Marlena's Shop.

The first shop ran by humans in the biggest hot spot in space. The Citadel. When humanity first came into the picture, it was very... very hard to find a place to get food, clothing... anything that's safe towards a human in general. That doesn't even include, the fact that most if not, majority of shops refused to sell towards humans.

To the point, that many would purposely sell faulty items, foods human cannot eat without the risk of dying and so on... That only caused rising tensions between humanity and every other species that reside in the Citadel. So... a lonely human, followed every protocol, bribed, haggled, (there was a murder, but no one was able to blame the human) and even having to play nice to the biggest er... yes. Many things had to be done for this lone human to open up an albeit, small shop in a rundown area in the Citadel.

The main items were mainly preserved foods, some clothing, random household items and... whatever the owner is able to get flown in to sell. They were items that were asked by the first customers. All timidly walking in, hoping the prices are over marked or not there, with no hope of ever getting a necessary item for who knows how long...

"Yes, we have that."

"Hm...I do have it, but it's not fresh. It's canned... Of course! I'll save you a dozen!"

"I'm sorry, I do not carry that at the moment. But I'll make sure that to add it into my order list!"

"Ms. Shepard! Your order of gravy mix has arrived!"

And this is only the be...

"Ah yes, a new customer? A krogan a-If you wish to buy, eat or do something with that, please sign this waiver. That item... is even dangerous to humans too..."

"Then why sell it then?"

"We enjoy the pain and the extra spiciness it brings to our foods.... and humans in general are stupid."

Mixing in Mass Effect and Humans are Weird/Deathworlders.... I love both fandoms.

[fluffle-writes]

Twisted Wonderland - Alien Abduction AU

Alien AU where Yuu/Reader is a human who accidentally gets abducted by aliens when they land on earth. The human end up staying with the TWST cast for a while because the guys who accidentally yoinked them were barely able to make it past all of the galactic patrols keeping aliens away from earth (the death world) in the first place

The 'humans are space orcs' trope can be applied to this - aliens not having adrenaline or resistance to caffeine etc.

Some aliens are scared of the deathworlder human creature hanging around, some want to challenge them to a battle for glory, and some just wanna poke and prod at them to see what makes them tick (gestures wildly towards Jade and Rook)

Some of the guys (like Riddle, Epel, and Lilia) are species that are much shorter than others whereas some of the taller guys (Idia, Malleus) are larger species etc. which makes the height differences between characters more pronounced

Everyone can sort of be in the same space station for research work - the resident human helps with heavy lifting and small tasks around the station like cleaning etc. Whereas the twst cast all have more specialised areas of work.

There are seven main branches of the space station, along with a smaller group of general leaders, dedicated to different sectors within the station; Heartslabyul, Savannaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diassomnia, and the Administrators.

Riddle is the head of Heartslabyul and is in charge of training newer members to investigate and explore new planets to search for useful materials and interesting flora and fauna that can be documented.

Trey and Cater are a duo who work on high-profile exploration jobs such as scouting for planets with life that can be approached.

Ace and Deuce are trainees with a penchant for trouble. They're probably the ones who accidentally landed on Earth and let a human wander onto their ship before they flew off again.

Leona is head of Savannaclaw and takes charge when it comes to defending the main space station and training the residents in his sector in both ranged combat and hand-to-hand combat. there's often at least one member of Savannaclaw accompanying Heartslabyul in excursions as protectors.

Ruggie is the most skilled marksman on the station and Leona's right hand man - he's the quickest to react to danger and man the laser cannons on the station in the event that there's a aggressive life form threatening the station.

Jack specialises in hand-to-hand combat and is higher in ranking than some of his fellow members of Savannaclaw despite being a newer recruit.

Azul is the head of Octavinelle, which acts as the main commercial face of the space station - managing the amount of cargo, where it's sold or sourced from, and managing the bookkeeping for the station. He's always precise in his work and never lets a single number out of place

Jade is Azul's right hand, standing in for him at meetings and conferences if he is unable to make it due to having other plans, or a sudden influx of work. His large stature and carnivorous ancestry makes it easy enough to intimidate business partners into working alongside the space station, preventing Azul's job from being more difficult than it needs to be.

Floyd works mostly within the station, assisting Azul in preventing any interference with the money or cargo within the station - such as investigating issues that may have revealed themselves in Azul's calculations or tracking down someone who hasn't paid back what they owe for any under-the-table 'deals' that Azul makes.

Kalim's sector, Scarabia, works closely with Octavinelle by providing a more direct face to the trade of goods - managing stores, warehouses, and stalls wherever the station decides to dock. His experience as the son of a wealthy merchant know widely across the galaxy makes him perfect for the position!

Jamil is present on the station to keep Kalim safe and on top of all of his responsibilities, meetings, and paperwork. He's the one who's kept Scarabia running so smoothly all this time - working in the background as he always does.

Vil leads the Pomefiore sector, focused on science and discovery - from learning more about newly discovered species of fauna and flora, to synthesising medicines or cosmetic products from unique properties found in resources they find. Vil manages the labs alongside an apprenticeship programme where he hand-picks promising students to train in the lab.

Rook is Vil's most trusted co-worker and the first person to have passed his rigorous training to work in the labs with him. He's particularly fascinated by creatures captured on different planets for study and re-release, with the more dangerous encounters being his favourite.

Epel is the newest recruit within the Pomefiore sector, and Vil's only current apprentice. While he dislikes being cooped up in a lab instead of being able to explore new planets or work alongside security, he is quite skilled in the sciences and thrives under Vil's tutelage.

Idia is the head of Ignihyde, the sector that manages the servers and intranet aboard the station, along with cybersecurity. His job is to make sure that the station can connect to other spacecrafts, stays safe from any hacking attempts, and keeps an eye out for potential up-fuckery in terms of digital security - protecting the money in the space station, and any sensitive information that's best kept from potentially dangerous individuals.

Ortho is an advanced robot created in Idia's likeness, who attends all in-person meetings in his stead. He is constantly connected to, and aware of, the statistic of the space station servers, intranet, and connectivity status - and will be able to not only notify his brother of any issues, but even deal with them himself if necessary.

Malleus's sector, Diassomnia, is quite odd in the sense that it has two jobs - both healing and combat. Members of the Diassomnia sector are in charge of managing the infirmary and dealing with any injuries, as well as assisting Savannaclaw against outside enemies through the use of strong fighter ships and weaponry.

Lilia is Malleus's right and and specialises in combat - often holding training sessions with any of the employees aboard the station, regardless of sector or species, on how to fight an enemy who may have infiltrated security and boarded the station.

Silver works mostly in the medical part of Diassomnia, often being found in the infirmary. While he's seen sleeping quite often, as is a quirk of his species, Silver is always quick to rouse if someone needs medical attention from him. He's also trained in rescue, able to carry injured people away from combat areas safely and swiftly.

Sebek, as the newest Diassomnia member, splits his focus evenly between both responsibilities of the sector. He's often seen training in different offensive and healing skills - aiming for mastery of both fields to try and serve Malleus as well as he possibly can.

Map of the space station from the Bottom floor (F1) to the top floor (F4) - subject to change (I'm bad at floor plans)