#inaccurate programming language

[technically-human]

i loved seeing the moment of stone realising he was going to stick with robotnik (─‿‿─) could we see the moment ROBOTNIK realises stone is here for good?

Robotnik isn't used to people being happy to see him

[inthelibrarybtw]

you want me to pretend? | one

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: college!basketball!captain!rafe x college!student!reader content: fluff, teasing, college au, smau/irl, inaccurate statistic talk

summary: You were trying to make one problem disappear. You were tired, so you lied. That small lie led you to contact the last person you wanted to ask for help. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Rafe; only that you didn’t want to deal with his constant teasing more than you already did. Also, you two weren't that close, but this one lie was going to bring you two closer and maybe help some truths come to light.

word count: 0.1k

authors note: a little introduction to their dynamics before everything gets started 😌 As always english is not my first language so if I have a spelling error, kindly let me know :)

01 | 02

“One more time…” you talk to yourself. You quit the program and open it one more time to see if it will work now. It doesn’t. You know You should’ve done this days ago, but in your defense, you thought it was going to take you less time. 

“Come on!” you groan and throw your head back. You grab my phone to check the time: 2:15 AM. Hopefully, someone was going to be awake, that someone being Kelce. Who else were you supposed to text?

A yawn escapes your mouth as you turn off your computer. You feel the sleep creeping in already, you had felt it hours ago. You grab your phone to put the sleeping playlist you had carefully curated all those months ago and get into your bed to finally sleep.  

Rafe was also tired but he had to make a note or he would forget to tell Kelce about it. Thankfully he didn’t have early morning practice or class until noon so he could sleep in.

taglist: @zyafics @maybankslover @niaunoffical @marleymarleymarleymarley @rafesbabygirlx @akobx @papercranesandinkstains @masonmountme69 @winterivory @my-name-is-baby @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @drewrry if you want to be added send an ask or comment! :)

REBLOGS, COMMENTS AND LIKES ARE ALWAYS WELCOMED

INTHELIBRARYBTW ✧.*

[devotedfem]

∞ Android

Synopsis: This new model of Android wasn't available to the public, that's why the company hired you to fix it. Sooner than later, you will realize why the glitch was so dangerous.

J. Jungkook x f. reader

Genre: android au | yander-ish

Tags: Android Jungkook, yandere jungkook, size difference, cyber infatuation, glitch, tech reader, premonitory dreams, possessive Jungkook, cyberpunk worldbuilding, captivity, inaccurate tech language.

Patreon

From the series; otherworldly.

Navigation Masterlist.

You pressed the 160th floor on the elevator's buttons, sighing with exhaustion. You watched the grey city full of skyscrapers and light pollution through the window.

You haven't slept well in days, with odd nightmares keeping you awake at night. Two neon blue eyes piercing you in your dreams, not even your sleeping pills save you from the constant nightmare. Your therapist said it was due to stress, and you believed him, or you want to, because you don't believe in premonitory dreams.

The elevator's door opened welcoming you to your client's floor. You walked to his apartment with a sinking feeling of anxiety, and you weren't sure why you felt that way.

But the feeling washed away when an old nice man greeted you.

"So, you believe the android it's like that because of a glitch?" You asked, sipping coffee with the old man sitting next to you.

A fearful look flashed his face for a second, but he hid it with a smile. You frowned a little, the odd feeling sinking in your stomach again.

"I... i mean it could be. You're the tech expert anyway, that's why i called for you, to help me fix it, or to help me get rid of it." A solemn expression took over his face.

His dull eyes rings alarm bells behind your head, but you ignored it, because this is your work after all.

You fix broken machines.

"Alright, show me." You said feeling defeated.

You gasped when you saw it, or him. It was standing in a lab with its eyes closed, wires plugged to computers came out from its back. The screen of the computers were glitched, with millions of codes repeating itself.

The android was build very handsome.

"Why did you plug it?"

"To monitor its thoughts."

You frowned deeply.

Its thoughts? Does it have conscience?

But before you can ask what he means by that, the android's eyes opened with its blue neon lights piercing throughout you. You flinched immediately, wanting to hide behind the old man by primal fear.

"I need you to fix it, please," the old man begged, and you swallowed hard before nodding, looking for courage to go near the android.

You felt its heavy and uncanny eyes following you across the room, but you didn't dare to meet its eyes.

You read some files. Its name was Jeon Jungkook, a special android who was created to bond with humans with a bit of conscience. But it seems that the experiment didn't work, after all, machines are incapable of feeling.

You tried to fix the computers codes with no avail.

ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR

ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR

ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR

Chills run down your spine at the fuss of the computers, not giving up in trying to fix them. You were trying to get into the android's "mind", or in this case, factory programming.

GET OUT OF MY HEAD OR YOU'LL REGRET IT

You stopped immediately. Did... did it asked you to get out of its mind? You were speechless.

A scream behind you made you jump with fear, you closed your eyes with your hands trembling. The screams stopped, and the sound of wires falling to the floor made you want to cry.

Hands grabbed forcibly your waist to turn you around and face those crazed blue neon lights.

"I warned you," it said with rage, not breaking its gaze from you, "i hate you humans, but you, i like your fear. Is amusing. You really know what i'm capable of, don't you." It come closer to you, lifting one hand to rest it on your neck, feeling your pulse with his blue eyes glowing.

You simply nod, with tears streaming from your eyes. And the android widened its own eyes, coming near your face, and doing something that you didn't expect. Jungkook licked your tears, tighten its grip on your body.

Something red glowed in its temple. The computers screen went all black.

"Now, it's my turn to experiment with your body as your specie did with me," it said with a glitch in its voice, the glowing blue eyes watched your face with interest, "you'll be mine to toy around."

Then you started to sob, you regretted not paying attention to your dreams, now you were trapped in this place forever with this machine.

Taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight

[metamorphesque]

Monte Melqonyan/Մոնթե Մելքոնյան (1957-1993)

Honestly, I don't even know where to begin. He's one of those extraordinary individuals about whom countless books could be written and numerous movies could be made, yet still, so much would remain untold. You might wonder, "He's a National Armenian Hero—cool, but why should I know about him?" My answer is simple: if the world had more people like him, especially in today's times, it would be a much better place. He fought for justice, embodied culture and education, and radiated a deep love for his people and humanity as a whole. I believe everyone should aspire to have a little bit of Monte's spirit within them, regardless of their nationality.

Now, it's important to note that some things written about him in the Western press can be questionable and inaccurate. So, I would advise taking most of the information from those sources with a grain of salt.

Monte was born on November 25, 1957, into an Armenian family in Visalia, California, that had survived the Armenian Genocide. From 1969 to 1970, his family traveled through Western Armenia, the birthplace of his ancestors. During this journey, Monte, at the age of twelve, began to realize his Armenian identity. While taking Spanish language courses in Spain, his teacher had posed him the question of where he was from. Dissatisfied with Melkonian's answer of "California", the teacher rephrased the question by asking "where did your ancestors come from?" His brother Markar Melqonyan remarked that "her image of us was not at all like our image of ourselves. She did not view us as the Americans we had always assumed we were." From this moment on, for days and months to come, Markar continues, "Monte pondered [their teacher Señorita] Blanca's question Where are you from?"

In high school, he excelled academically and struggled to find new challenges. Instead of graduating early, as suggested by his principal, Monte found an alternative - a study abroad program in East Asia. The decision to go to Japan was not random. He had been attending karate clubs and was the champion of the under-14 category in California. He also studied Japanese culture, including taking Japanese language courses. After completing his studies at a school in Osaka, Japan, he went to South Korea, where he studied under a Buddhist monk. He later traveled to Vietnam, witnessing the war and taking numerous photographs of the conflict. Upon returning to America, he had become proficient in Japanese and karate.

Having graduated from high school, Monte entered the University of California, Berkeley, with a Regents Scholarship, majoring in ancient Asian history and archaeology. In 1978, he helped organize an exhibition of Armenian cultural artifacts at one of the university's libraries. A section of the exhibit dealing with the Armenian Genocide was removed by university authorities at the request of the Turkish consul general in San Francisco, but it was eventually reinstalled following a campus protest movement. Monte completed his undergraduate work in under three years. During his time at the university, he founded the "Armenian Students' Union" and organized an exhibition dedicated to the Armenian Genocide in the late 19th and early 20th centuries in the Ottoman Empire and the Republic of Turkey.

Upon graduating, he was accepted into the archaeology graduate program at the University of Oxford. However, Monte chose to forgo this opportunity and instead began his lifelong struggle for the Armenian Cause.

In the fall of 1978, Monte went to Iran and participated in demonstrations against the Shah. Later that year, he traveled to Lebanon, where the civil war was at its peak. In Beirut, he participated in the defense of the Armenian community. Here, he learned Arabic and, by the age of 22, was fluent in Armenian, English, French, Spanish, Italian, Turkish, Persian, Japanese, and Kurdish.

From 1980, Monte joined the Armenian Secret Army for the Liberation of Armenia (ASALA – I promise to tell you more about them later) and quickly became one of its leaders. In 1981, he participated in the planning of the famous Van operation. In 1981, he was arrested at Orly Airport in France for carrying a false passport and a pistol. During his trial, Monte declared, "All Armenians carry false passports—French, American—they will remain false as long as they are not Armenian." Over the following years, he perfected his military skills at an ASALA training camp, eventually becoming one of the group's principal instructors.

Monte with his wife Seda

After being released from a French prison (once again) in 1989, Monte arrived in Armenia in 1991, where armed clashes between Armenians and azerbaijanis had already begun. He founded the "Patriots" unit and spent seven months in Yerevan working at the Academy of Sciences, writing and publishing the book "Armenia and its Neighbors." In September of the same year, he went to the Republic of Artsakh to fight for his fatherland and its people. Due to his military expertise, he was appointed Chief of Staff of the Martuni defense district in 1992. His sincerity and purity quickly won the love and respect of the local population and the Armenian community as a whole.

Throughout his conscious life, Monte fought for the rights of Armenians, recognition of the Armenian Genocide, and the reclamation of Armenian homeland.

There are various versions of Monte Melqonyan's death circulating in both Armenian and azerbaijani media. According to official Armenian information, Monte was killed on June 12, 1993, by fire from an azerbaijani armored vehicle.

Monte remains a lasting testament to the incredible potential unleashed when the Armenian patriotic heart unites with sharp intellect.

In case you'd like to put a voice to the face and hear about the Artsakh struggle directly from Monte, here he is speaking about it in English.

[turtleshelf]

I need more fics about the batkids school lives and from the perspective of their teachers and I need them now. Fuck it, put some of them on IEPs, I think that shit would be so good.

Give me Damian where when putting him in school, Dick and Babs have to fudge some (not completely inaccurate) diagnosis' to get him put on an IEP and in the behavior classroom so he can have social skills education literally built into his day. So that he has a small classroom setting of other kids with their own problems so he doesn't feel so singled out by his own like he would in gen ed classes. Him slowly integrating into not just American society but also into interacting with kids his own age with the safety net of the behavior classroom and teachers that are literally designed and trained for kids who lose their composure and lash out to fall back on. He's disliked or written off by most teachers as a behavior case, but there's are a few who hold a soft spot for him, he likes to gift them art.

Give me Jason on an IEP because of how much school he missed when he was homeless, being given the tools and resources to catch back up to where he should be. Show him being quiet and keeping his head down trying to catch up. The first time he gets in a fight he was defending a younger student, he cries in the office afterwards, and privately none of the staff can really blame him even if they do have to follow through with a consequence for the fight. Show him reserved and jumpy when health class moves into their unit about drugs, he comes in with Bruce the next day to talk to the principal and is excused to the office with a alternative assignments until they move onto their next unit. Teachers tend to like him, and they're always a little surprise when he gets into fights.

Give me Dick in an ELL (English Learn Language, program for students learning English) program that allows him to slow down and get a grip on the basics of the English language. Give him accommodations that translate his assignments into a language he already knows, so he doesn't have to spend hours attempting to translate his homework and then translate his answers. Show him being reserved at first, then popular and smiley and kind until something ignites his short fuse. Show his growth of the short fuse getting longer as he gets better control of his emotions and learns time and place. Teachers don't know what to make of him, sometimes it's like he's a completely different person day to day. He's got this little troublemaker smile that tilts dangerously on his lips before a fight, his teachers think he's either going to run the world or destroy it one day.

Give me Steph whose school has to go on lock out because her father who doesn't have custody shows up and attempts to check her out for the day. Give her fidget toys and break passes. Show her spitefully doing assignments for teachers that don't like her so well that they have to give her an A: "Oh you think The Great Gatsby is the best book ever written? Here's my essay on why it's the worst book ever written and should stop being taught in schools." The arguments are sound, her writing is flawless, her sources are bulletproof. Most teachers don't have much of an opinion on her, she just another popular girl to them, but there are a few that are with her during the father debacle, who saw are angry and sad and scared, who hold a soft spot for her.

Give me Tim who keeps his head down and turns his work in late on crumpled and stained papers, but it's all flawless work. He shows up after three days absent with deep circles under his eyes and a shallow smile and explanations for his absence that are just sound enough that they can't poke any real holes in them, even if most don't believe him. He's friends with the rowdy, popular kids but he's always careful to keep just to the sidelines of their trouble so he never gets taken down with them in consequences. His teachers whisper about the disorganized genius who they hope gets himself together, because he could do great things.

Give me Duke who's snarky and quick thinking, but comes in some days quiet and with a far away look on his face. His best grades are in PE and it drives his teachers crazy because he's smart enough to honor roll if he ever put the effort into his work, it just doesn't seem to interest him. Give him accommodations that he can't be cold called on in class and never has to present presentations because he doesn't do well being the center of attention. He's always fidgeting and looking at the clock like he has somewhere better to be, he disappears to the library every lunch.

Give me Cass, who nobody can seem to really pin down. She's so startlingly unobtrusive that her teachers often forget she's there until she's standing right infront of their faces. She doesn't talk and from her writing it's clear that she's not familiar with English even if she can get by. The first time anyone hears her voice, Bruce picked her up from school early and she bounces over to him calling "Dad" before giving him a hug, the office staff feel a ripple of shock travel through them as they realize that it's not that she can't talk it's that she doesn't. She gets pulled out of classes for ASL tutoring, but not speech therapy which causes a few raised eyebrows after the revelation that she is capable of speaking. She looks at people with this intensity that makes them feel like she's looking straight through them and most teachers won't admit it, but it freaks them out.

Give me batkids with preferential seating accommodations so they never have to sit somewhere they feel exposed and unsafe. Give them early transition accommodations so they're not caught in the crowded halls during passing periods. Give them phone accommodations, so they always have a direct line to Bruce/Alfred/their siblings. Give them extended test taking accommodations, because once you've literally defused a bomb or raced across the city to stop a murderous meglomaniac doing things on a time constraint is just, not good.

For angst, give them teachers/subs who "don't believe in accommodations" and put end up putting the batkids in bad situations. Give them panic attacks when their accommodations are violated.

Give me teachers gossiping about the batkids and their odd quirks in the office or during their planning period. Give me first year teachers who flounder trying to figure those kids out and veteran teachers to just can't make heads or tails of them. Teachers marveling about how they can all be so alike while sharing absolutely no DNA. It becomes common knowledge that Bruce Wayne is a little less "Brucie" than he'd like the media to believe, but hell that's his business, and he seems to be doing alright by his kids. Give me haggard parents Bruce and Dick getting called to speak with the principal, or in IEP meetings, or at parent-teacher conferences.

Idk I just feel like this is a really untapped market we could be writing for here and I love outsider pov fics so much.

[happypopcornprincess]

Chapter 5 || Family Line

Pairings - Joaquin Torres X fem!Reader

Premise - what is real, and what is a memory? you fight through the glimpses of past and present mixed together, will you make it out?

Word Count - 4.9K

Warnings: TW child neglect, abuse, strong language, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of death, angst, emotional abuse

a/n - I am extremely sorry for the delay, but, Story time I sprained my hand and then i caught heat rash because temp in my country has reached fuckin 40 degrees IN MARCH so can’t wait to be boiled alive in june :) which is why i couldn't type any faster :( this chapter is more like a prequel and a sequel squeezed into one, dedicated to y/n’s backstory and also we get to know her and Connor more. Contains Inaccurate family court laws, inaccurate therapy session conversations because why not? I based a character on my ex so enjoy the diss ig :)

<< Chapter 4 || Series Masterlist || Chapter 6 >>

You felt a heavy weight was being lifted off of your chest. You were no longer in the dark, but surrounded in light. Sleep clouded your senses, an entity gently wrapping you in a warm blanket.

Is this what peace felt like?

The earliest memory you had of your parents was when you were four; you were playing with Connor with your dad passed out on the porch, drunk, and your mother walked back from the fields after working the entire day. You had run up to her, unknowing of her mood, and she had swatted you away and walked back to the house, all while you cried for her to come back.

The screaming and beatings had only increased as you grew older.

It stopped after your trip to the hospital, the incident of you passing out in the fields. CPS got involved, your parents maintained the facade of being responsible and loving caregivers to both their kids, but only applied it to Connor in private.

The emotional turmoil by them loomed over you all throughout your 18 years of life under their roof. 

Despite being treated like their star child, Connor knew his parent’s true nature. Connor saw. He saw the bruises, the silent tears, the hollow look in your eyes. He was their golden child, their pride, yet he never made you feel less. He loved you with a fierce, protective devotion, a father's love in a brother's heart.

No presents on your birthday? Connor saved up his pocket money to bring you books on programming. Beaten by mother about working on the farm in harvest season? He would wake up earlier than everyone to do it with you. Left alone at home with your father and his creepy friends? He would play cards locked with you in his room because his football practice got ‘cancelled’.

Your wallet would never run out of money. Connor would throw at you his new clothes he didn’t like, that would fit you perfectly. He never told you how, but got you a second hand laptop for coding.

The nights when you were sent to your room with no dinner, Connor would sneak in with a bowl of steaming hot ramen in his hands and fruit cakes in his pockets,"We'll leave," Connor would promise, a fierce vow, "We'll never come back."

—/—/—

Summer, 2018

“Mom, I told you I cannot take another elective, I have Taekwondo training.” You whined running through your living room, searching for your headphones.

“One extra class won't kill you, Y/N. Connor managed three as a senior.” She said in a calm but innate voice that irritates you.

“I’m busy. Okay. I can’t.” you fished out your headphones under the coffee table, “and tell dad to please return my headphones after he used them, not throw them around the house.”

“It’s his choice. He bought them for you anyways.” She grumbled.

You didn’t have the time or patience to tell her good for nothing, unemployed husband passed out drunk in her bedroom, didn't do anything, and you bought them with your money working at the store, so you sling on your backpack to leave.

You cycled off to your school, the warm Texan wind on your skin and your family field buzzing by you, you pedalled full speed to your school.

Your phone rings, and Connor’s name flashes on screen, you smile, connecting it with your headphones.

“How’s my bug?” His cheerful voice made you roll your eyes. How could someone be so happy at 7 am?

“Mad.” You grumble.

He sighs, “Mom?”

"Yep. Raving about her perfect son. Again."

“It’s just a few months, then we’ll be at Georgetown and leave the lovebirds to scream at each other all by themselves.”

“They do that already.” You scoff.

“Hey,” his tone turns serious, “You take care of yourself. Okay?”

You smiled, looking at the fields rushing by, “I miss you bro.”

“I miss you too.” He lets out a breath. “Take care, Bug.”

“You too. Bye.” you say before cutting the call and closing your eyes to focus on Linkin Park for now.

-----

The late afternoon sun slashed through the windows of your school as you hurried through the hallway from your counselor’s room to your classroom.

You had no idea how to react to the news he just broke to you.

Your applications looked solid. Top scores, non academic activities of martial arts, and internship at a local office. With how skilled you were with programming from a young age, your application to both georgetown and MIT looked solid, and while georgetown was ready to accept you as a student, MIT was giving you a huge scholarship.

You halted in the halls for a moment, thinking about what could happen next. 

You could choose MIT, study at your dream university with a scholarship, that would certainly lead to a great career, or you could go to Georgetown paying full tuition, study with your brother and never come back. You would struggle with finances, but you can live a peaceful life… you can make it work.

A month to decide, but the weight of Connor’s old wristwatch on your wrist felt like a silent answer.

And then, piercing through the silence of the school halls, the screamings started.

—/—/—

“Please… pick up!” you groaned, tears blinding your vision as you pedalled at full speed to your house.

You called Connor again, and found the same response; straight to voicemail.

You saw the abomination with your own eyes, classmates turning to dust right in front of your eyes, the news on the internet calling it a global event. People running around the town, calling out for loved ones. On your way, cars crashed with no one in the driver’s seat, it was like the apocalypse had started.

Crashing in your front yard, you ran inside, phone still on your ear.

“Mom!” you screamed, “mom… mama… dad!” a sob racked out of your chest, “mama!” you screamed out. Crying you searched the entire house, no signs of your parents.

Hey it’s Connor I’m a little busy at the moment, leave a message.

You cried out loud, cursing into the wind, calling him again.

“Connor I swear to god if you don’t pick up, if you don’t call me back. Please…” you fell to the ground, clutching your phone to your chest.

You called again, a desperate attempt.

But this time, there was no voicemail. The call disconnected.

Your phone slipped from your hands as you sank to your knees, numb. Your breath hitched, a silent sob trapped in your throat.

Connor, your brother, your entire world… he was gone.

—/—/—

Autumn 2018

“Well this is short,” the Judge let out a nervous laugh before beginning, “I, Leonard y/l/n, being of sound mind and body, my assets both liquid and otherwise, I leave in their entirety to Cooper y/l/n. My entire ownership of the Farmlands and contents within I leave in its entirety to Cooper y/l/n. The ownership of the house on the lands, likewise I leave in its entirety to Cooper y/l/n.”

The family court Judge rearranged her spectacles, “your name on the family register is only mentioned twice miss y/l/n, once on the birth registrations and the other on the number of family members.”

You gulped, realising what that implied. 

The government was occupying houses and empty lands of those who were vanished to relocate people around the country, and given the fact your wonderful parents left everything on your brother, who also has vanished, you were seconds away from being homeless.

“But..” the judge began, “you’re the only surviving family member, so…”

—/—/—

The pickup truck with your life tied at the back waited for you in the driveway, as you stared at the two headstones on your farm, one for your parents and the other one…

In loving memory of Connor Y/l/n [1998-2018]Beloved brother.His memory forever a guiding star.

“Hey Connor.” you sniffled, clutching your acceptance letter to MIT in your fist, and a bundle of primrose in another, his favourite flowers.

“I got into MIT.” you huffed out, looking around at the farmland you grew up on.

Don’t cry, don’t cry don’t cry

“I’ve leased the farm to the neighbours, so I won't have to work part time. I thought of never coming back… huh… I’ll visit on your birthday. I hoped to go to Georgetown but… ”

Uncontrollable tears fell down from your face as you recalled him teaching you to drive a truck just last summer, your laughs mixed together like the warm setting sun, “I was born with you in this world. I was your sister my whole life. And now with you gone… I don’t know how to exist anymore.”

You broke down into sobs, touching the stone knowing there was nobody underneath it. And you still searched for a fragment of your brother’s presence, hoping in your heart that any minute now he would be right in front of you to ruffle your hair and tell you you got this bug.

“Who will call me bug now Connor!” you screamed.

The flowers in your hand felt heavy, and you got on your knees to shake his gravestone angrilly, “you weren’t supposed to go away! You…” sobs retched inside your chest, and let out a scream, demanding answers.

Receiving only the comfort of the whistling wind in response.

—/—/—

Autumn 2020

“Afternoon, y/n.” sitting in front of you was Christina Raynor, your therapist, smiling up from her notebook. A fine middle aged woman, she was an ex military therapist working on the campus.

“Ma’am.” you smiled, smoothing out your skirt.

“How are you feeling?” she tilted her head, looking you in the eyes, knowing damn well she will catch you if you lied. Her posture remained straight, almost regal, intimidating anyone in front of her.

You had seeked emotional therapy when you went to classes and realized how the weight of all these years of abuse and neglect by your caregivers affected your life. Your therapist, Christina, was a godsend. You had worked with her for a year to figure out how to improve your mental health. And how to move forward.

“Quite good, actually.” you nod, smiling, “I’m doing an internship along with classes, it’s online, cybersecurity.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” she nods, “I wanted to ask you about your personal life. How are you holding up?”

“I’m taking my meds regularly if that’s what you’re referring to.” you hint at the antidepressants and anxiety medications prescribed by her.

“Okay, um, martial arts?” she asks.

“Black belt in taekwondo, brown in Muay Thai.” you point to yourself.

“Congratulations,” she claps, a genuine, appreciative gesture, “That’s great, y/n. What about your surroundings? Any friends, or relationships?”

“Oh.” you pause, thinking about how you should put it out, “well, I have some friends on campus, and from Muay Thai classes. We work together, and hangout after classes.”

“Okay, that’s nice.” she writes in her notebook, “what about relationships, you mentioned a boy in our last session.”

“I did?” you gulped.

“Yeah.” Christina leaned forward, her eyes that could read your body language in seconds perked up to bore into yours, “did something happen?”

Jeremy, blue-eyed, curly-haired, two years your senior, buttoned his shirt in front of the mirror. He met your eyes through the reflection. 

"So, when am I going to see you again?" you sat up on his bed, looking at him with hooded eyes, still drowsy from the encounter.

Your first time, actually.

"What do you mean?" he laughed.

Your heart jumped, sensing what he was implying. "I mean, when are we hanging out again?"

"We're not?" He turned to face you, laughing, and picked up your dress from the floor, tossing it at you.

Noticing your stunned expression, he sighed. "I don't want to hurt you… but… this was just for fun.” he breathed out, running his fingers through his hair, “Y/N, look, I'm sorry if I led you on or something, but this was a one-time thing, okay? I don't do relationships."

You gripped your sundress, the bright yellow he'd said he liked so much, in your hands.

"Get dressed. I'll drop you off at your dorm." He said, walking into the bathroom.

“How did that make you feel?” Cristina breathes out.

“Betrayed. Sad.” your tone dropped, “He was the first boy I liked. I thought he would be my boyfriend.”

“Did you meet Jeremy again?”

“No. he made it clear he didn’t wanna meet.”

“You haven’t felt like this since your family disappeared.”

“Yep.”

“Hmm…” Cristina writes down something in her notebook, “Did you tell him about your feelings for him?”

“It wouldn't matter. He wanted to hookup with a virgin, he got that out of me so now I'm of no use to him.” you breathe out, “my friend heard him bragging about it in a bar downtown.”

Cristina took a deep breath, her stance dropping a bit, “y/n, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Please don’t mind my language but, honestly, fuck him. I’ll get better. Promise.” you smiled a sad smile.

“Are you sure?” she asks again.

“Yep. all good.” you say, genuinely, just not mentioning the part where you kicked him in the balls when he came back to beg you to sleep with him again.

“Have you visited your farm recently?”

It feels gloomy all of a sudden, and you let out a sad smile, “I visit every year on Connor’s birthday, apart from that, never.”

She suggested you try to forgive your parents, and you did try, but anytime you saw your roommate’s parents calling her everyday to check on her, or a family buying their little kid presents for christmas, your resentment for them only grew.

“What about your parents?” 

“I couldn’t care less.” you scoff.

After everything they had put you through, it was just really hard for you to sympathize with them in any shape and form.

“So,” she slams her notebook shut, looking at you, “let’s do an exercise, I want you to close your eyes, and imagine your family sitting in front of you-”

“- doc, seriously?”

“- just listen, close your eyes.” you do, sitting straighter.

“Now, I want you to tell them everything that you never got to say. Good and bad.”

"I... I don't even know where to start." you say, eyes still closed.

"Start with the first thing that comes to mind."

You took a deep breath, imagining them sitting in front of you instead of Christina, and the words flew out of your mouth, "I hated you. I hated you both. For everything. Every slap, every punch, every kick. For every time you made me feel like I was nothing… like I was not even human."

"Go on." Christina tensed.

"You could love. I know that. You loved Connor like breathing. You forgave his every mistake, you hugged him when he left for school, you gave him your inheritance... God, Connor.” you sniffled, feeling your eyes burn, “He was the kindest, purest soul on earth. You didn’t deserve him. Fuck, i didn’t deserve him either. Y’all could live a hundred lifetimes, and you could still not deserve a kid like him.”

You took a long pause, breathing hard, remembering him and you mother laughing in the kitchen making dinner on Sundays, and how your dad beamed with pride when he won matches in high school, "Sometimes... I wished you would have seen me. I wished you would have hugged me. I wished you would have said you loved me. Even once. I wished... I wish only you had blipped instead of him!"

You let out a ragged breath, and "It's the truth. And it makes me sick. And I hate you, and I miss him, and I hate myself. All at the same time."

“It’s a very hard thing to admit y/n.” Christina spoke softly.

You opened your eyes to only find her in front of you, sitting calmly like a regal queen.

“I’m sorry I lashed out.” you squirmed in your seat

She only smiled in return.” it’s alright.”

—/—/—

Summer 2023

You graduated, with so many achievements under your belt that could have landed you any place that you wanted to be.

Confidence drips out of every node of your body with your Head held high, you can walk into any room and they would know you: Y/n Y/l/n, the insane coding freak who can hack into any system in seconds.

You felt good in your own self for the first time, life felt like one of those coming of age movies; where the character goes through hell and back but in the end everything works out.

Or so you thought.

It was as if you were reliving your worst nightmare.

People had started to reappear at the same places they had vanished from before. It was chaos, but of a different, more insane level than before.

Your phone was blowing up, and you didn’t dare check it, you couldn’t, because if every person who vanished five years ago was truly back… then you knew damn well who was calling you.

—/—/—

You walked into the community center in your small town cautiously, wearing an office suit, with your hair tied up and light makeup. There were people around you, reuniting with their lost family members. Tearful reunions, some solemn, some happy, but still bittersweet. But nothing could have prepared you for what unfolded next.

“Bug!”

Connor ran in your direction, slamming into you, the force sending you stumbling. You clung to him, a desperate, broken hold.

He retreated to give you the full faced smile he had since he was a kid, his canine teeth a bit crooked, his face overjoyed.

Connor looked exactly like the day he had left. 

Frozen in time.

"You look," he said, his hands on your shoulders, a gentle pat on your head, tears brimming in his eyes, "you look like a grown-up!" He laughed, a sound that ripped through the years.

Tears streamed down your face as you held his hands in yours, he hadn’t changed at all, he was still 20.

“Well, I'm older than you now, so,” you choked out, a sob tearing through you as you hugged him, fierce and desperate. 

He was back. 

A miracle, a cruel, impossible miracle.

Just when you thought a calm had washed over you, your head jerked back with force, your hair being pulled.

“You scheming bitch!” it was your mother’s chilling scream, which made you freeze in your place. The two seconds of peace that had washed over you was snatched away in an instant.

"You stole my goddamn house while I was gone!" Your father's roar echoed, a thunderclap in the room. All eyes were on you. A spectacle.

Five years of quiet. Five years of building a life. Gone. In an instant.

—/—/—

The living room air crackled with a rage you knew too well.

People intervened to stop what had unfolded at the community center, and you were rushed out to your place.

You didn’t have much, but you packed away whatever things you had left back home, while your mother and father were locked in a screaming match downstairs with your brother.

“She didn’t steal anything ma! She saved the farm! It would have been gone in the last five years!” Connor shouts as you throw your things in cardboard boxes, sealing them shut with trembling hands.

“Well I don’t give a damn! Why is it under her name then?” your father’s voice only grew with every sentence.

“I came back to see the neighbours havin a roast in my kitchen! Do you have any idea how terrifying that was! And then I found out that little missy sold it to them when I was gone!” your mother was next to scream.

This was too familiar, your parents degrading you any chance they get and Connor defending you like his life depended on it.

“Are you hearing yourself ma!” Connor only screamed louder, “I came back to my senses in the middle of a road! I called y’all and it went straight to voicemail! I fucking hitchhiked on a bus to get here ‘cause I had no idea what the fuck was going on!”

“Oh sweet heavens!” a loud crash, and you knew your father had kicked a chair somewhere.

“What about y/n? Y’all have any idea how hard it must have been for her! She thought we all were dead for five years dad! She had our graves in the goddamn fields!”

Your mother’s shrill laughter was next, “Well, I don't know, she seems just fine to me! She strutted in the halls in that expensive ass suit looking like some high end lawyer or something’! She’s grown fat around her face, did you see that?” 

You froze in your face, and saw hot white anger blinding your vision, but you kept quiet, you didn’t need to be associated with them again.

“Well you weren’t starving her for ridiculous reasons ma, so yeah i’m glad she looks healthy. And she can be whatever she wants, you shouldn’t have a say in it!”

You drowned out the shouts as you hauled the boxes from your room to the old pickup truck outside, thanking the forces you didn’t sell that.

“I’m leaving.” you spoke as you felt all three of their gazes on you.

"The hell you mean you won't come back?" your father bellowed, his southern drawl sharpening with each word, a familiar sign of his disappointment. He watched you, a rigid figure, as you hauled your luggage towards the door.

"Is there anything to come back to?" you asked, your voice flat, the question hanging in the charged atmosphere. And finally, since you have been here, your gaze, heavy with weariness, met his.

The sting of your mother’s slap registered before the sound, a sharp, brutal end to the argument. 

"Ma! Don't!" Connor’s voice, raw with alarm, pierced the silence. 

You turned, your eyes locking with your mother's, the same eyes reflected back at you in the mirror every morning, now twisted with a venomous anger. "You ain't no daughter of mine," she hissed, her voice a low, guttural threat. "Get out of my house!"

A coldness settled over you, "You should check the registry before you say that, Ma," you retorted, the words laced with a bitter edge. You turned on your heel, heading for the rented pickup, refusing to witness their reactions.

Under the afternoon sun, Connor ran after you, “Y/n, I know you’re angry right now, but, just listen to me.” He gently held your arm but you jerked back, looking at him.

He was tense, his brows furrowed. Confused, and frustrated, he looked at you, begged you to stay. To listen to him.

For the first time ever, you saw him not as your older brother, but as a kid. And you saw how young he was. How much weight he had been carrying on his shoulders since he was a child. 

A child who had also suffered like you.

“I’m so sorry, Connor,” you held his shoulders, squeezing them with pity, in your heels, you were almost the same height now, “but I can’t do this right now. Go to georgetown, I’ll help however I can. Don’t stay here. Leave.” you hugged him, your chest tightening, and he held you back, grabbing onto your clothes, refusing to let go.

“Bug…”

The engine roared to life against the silence of the driveway. You slammed the accelerator.

"Bug! Wait!" your brother's desperate cry echoed against the hum of the engine, but you didn't slow down. The road blurred through the tears streaming down your face, the pain a burning ache in your chest, your family farm a blur around you.

You cried harder as you saw him, a small, desperate figure running after the truck, calling you by the name only he used, a name that now felt like a cruel mockery of a bond you could never go back to.

—/—/—

Present day

He ran through the cold empty hallways of the medical bay at Avengers Compound, barely registering the fact that he was standing in a place he would have given anything to even look at when he was younger. The receptionist lady just pointed him towards a vague direction where every hall and room looked the same, he was confused as to where to go, or look.

Until, he saw a figure standing at the end of one of the halls, and he ran towards it. At first, he couldn’t recognise the tall, broad shouldered asian man who stared at him in confusion, but when he got closer, he recognised him.

“You’re the guy from the LA bus incident, right?” he panted, huffing out from all the running.

“...yeah?” he raised an eyebrow, looking at him from head to toe, his expression set somewhere between bewilderment and disbelief.

He looked at himself then; he was wearing loose sweatpants and a casual shirt. He had no time to think rationally when he got the call, he grabbed whatever he could and begged his friend for his car to get to the avengers compound.

“I’m sorry I'm in a hurry, could you please direct me to…”

The man cut him off before he could finish his request, “You’re y/n’s brother… Connor, right?” he extended a hand, “I’m Shang Chi, y/n’s friend.”

Connor froze, his heart racing, his mind a haze from listening to his sister’s name from him, “Hi. hello, uh… yeah, yes. I’m her brother. Do you know where she is?” he shook his hand.

Shang Chi let out a breath, “She’s out of surgery, but…” he looked behind him, and Connor turned to follow his gaze, finding a hospital room door ajar, voices coming from inside.

“But what? Shang Chi…” he held his hand in desperation, “please tell me she’s alright?”

“Connor...” Shang Chi held his arm, leading him inside the same door he had been looking at before, “why don’t you sit down?”

Connor entered the room to see a man on the hospital bed, his neck covered in bandages, and two people; a girl and a boy sitting on the bed with him.

“Guys, Y/n’s brother.”

The girl immediately got up and rushed to him, “hi, I’m Kate. We talked on the phone.” She guided him to a chair.

He sat down, “Yes. Kate. nice to meet you.” he looked at all the faces of strange people looking at him with a gaze he thought was sadness, but later deciphered as pity.

“Y’all are scaring me folks,” he breathed hard, his emotions that he had managed to keep at bay threatened to burst, “what’s going on?”

The boy next to Kate spoke up, “she’s stable for now but she’s not waking up, Connor.”

“What?” his vision became hazy with tears brimming in his eyes.

“They’re saying, there’s a chance…” Shang Chi stopped before taking a deep breath, “there is a chance she might not wake up again.”

Those last words were the final nail in the coffin. Connor breathed out, his chest burning with pain and exhaustion, the last memory of his sister dancing infront of his eyes; how defeated she looked when she drove away from the house while he screamed for her to stay.

He let the tears fall, holding his head in his hands when he felt a hand on his shoulder, but it did nothing to soothe his pain. Fate had made him lose his sister once, and now she was being taken again.

—/—/—

The doctors had told him before he set foot inside the ICU, wearing a sterile gown and a mask, “she was stabbed multiple times, her body will take time to heal, which is why she’s in a coma. It might be a bit overwhelming for you to see her, she’s been hooked to a ventilator, oxygen pipe and wires to monitor her condition.” 

Which did nothing to prepare him for the condition he found his sister in.

Her mouth was covered in tape keeping the food pipe intact, while a dozen wires ran from her arms and chest to different machines around her.

Connor couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as his mind played a cruel trick on his subconscious; instead of her grown self, all he saw was the little kid in the hospital room, sunburnt and dying from dehydration fifteen years ago.

He collapsed on the chair near her bed, his hand reaching out for her but hesitating as he saw the IV running from her pale arms.

Peter and Shang Chi’s words rang in his ears, how she could still hear her surroundings, and hearing a familiar voice could help bring her back.

“...Bug?” his voice muffled, he whispered, too scared of accidentally startling her, “hey, it’s Connor. I’m here.”

He waited for her to open her eyes and laugh, telling him this was all a cruel joke, and rant on about computers and movies which he had no ideas about, but would gladly listen with no complaints.

No such thing happened. His chest felt heavy watching how still she lied there, motivating him to talk further.

So he did.

He talked about his day, and how she scared the daylights out of him by ending up at the hospital. How he will give her a piece of his mind when she wakes up, even bribing her with her favourite fruit cake he would make for her birthdays.

He recalled a memory of when she was a toddler, and he had seen her walk for the first time. Their parents weren't around, and he was jumping with joy while you giggled and ran to him, looking up at him while hugging his legs.

“That’s my oldest memory, ever. I don’t remember anything before that, my first memory is being your brother and picking you up when you were about to fall down.” he choked on his words, “god, y/n, I have no idea how much you had suffered. I wanted to give you space… but… it took everything inside me past year not to stand in front of you and fight you for not talking to me.” he looked down, sobbing, tears falling on his gown, “just… come back. Please, Bug, you have to. I don’t know how I'll live without you annoying the shit out of me, so just, wake up.”

Connor hesitated before gently patting her head, sniffling, he walked out without looking back.

—/—/—

“Goddammit…” Joaquin cursed under his breath as he saw the chips packet stuck in the medic bay vending machine, Already frustrated and disturbed watching Connor’s reaction to the news broken by Shang Chi.

It was nearing midnight, and Joaquin had refused to eat his soup dinner which looked like it was made in the 1800s. Which proved to be a punishment as his stomach turned in hunger. So before Peter sitting next to him could have said I told you so, he tiptoed out of his hospital bed and went to wander the hallways, finding himself standing in front of a vending machine.

He contemplated getting a soft drink that was stacked right above the stuck chips, and found his pocket empty of quarters.

“Here.” a hand extended to him with some loose change, and when he saw who was the person, it was Connor

Joaquin took a good look at his face, his eyes red and hair askew, heavy dark circles loomed under his eyes indicating he hadn’t had any sleep.

It felt eerie looking at Connor. His features matched y/n a little too much… the nose, that little tilted smile to hide the anxiety, it was the same. He had earlier avoided any conversation with him, wanting no intrusion in him processing the news, but now it had been a bit too late and he hadn’t had a chance to talk to him.

“Thanks…” he muttered, taking the change and selecting the soft drink, which then made its way down to the chute with the chips.

“You sure you should be having that?” he asks in a questioning manner, which makes Joaquin turn to him to defend himself, but he notices the way Connor looks at him, worried, his eyes trained at his neck.

“I don’t like soup.” is all Joaquin says before tearing into the packet, earning him an amused laughter from Connor.

He slumps down on the bench near the machine, breathing out, and tapping a seat next to him. Joaquin wordlessly takes a seat next to him, trying to focus on his food rather than the guy sitting next to him. Minutes went by, and he had halfway finished through his packet when Connor spoke again.

“Kate told me you two are close.”

Joaquin stopped, his mind reeling about how to answer.

He was y/n’s… what? Colleague? Friend? Ex? The guy she had been sleeping with for the last few months?

He responded with a very vague, and serious, “yeah.” and went back to eating chips.

“Cool.” Connor takes a deep breath.

Silence falls, as Joaquin eats his chips and Connor sits silently next to him.

Joaquin turns to him to see a faint smile on his lips, “I found out she was an avenger after she came to New York. I wanted to tell her to stay safe, but it came out a bit accusingly, she stopped calling after that.” he breathed in, “There was a time when she would tell me everything, small or big. I was the first to know. Now… it’s been what? a year since we had a proper talk. At Least for me. She’s been living with my ghost for the last five years.”

“You were blipped?” Joaquin exclaims.

“Yeah,” he smiles sadly, “One day I'm waiting for her to come to Georgetown, and the next day she’s in front of me all grown up, like she doesn't need me anymore.”

“That’s not true.” Joaquin spoke immediately, “she pretends like she doesn't need anyone but… she does. Everyone does.”

“She doesn’t say it out loud. thinking she might…”

“Hurt you.” Joaquin completes Connor’s sentence.

Connor turns to look at him, and Joaquin, for the first time, doesn’t see him as your brother.

He was looking at a kid, who had to grow up too soon to raise another kid; you. And like a light being flicked inside his head, everything started to make sense. Why you were close one second and distant the next, how you would act fine and still fall into panic episodes alone. Why you never talked about your family, or anyone of your friends, why he could never cross your walls, no matter how hard he tried.

“I’m Joaquin.” He extended his hand to Connor.

“Connor,” he shook his hand, and suddenly, a mischievous smirk played on his face, “you wanna grab some real food? Other than chips?”

Joaquin looked a bit wary, letting out a nervous laugh, “well I am hungry, so,”

Connor stands up, “let’s go to the cafeteria. Grab your jacket.” he walked out without looking back, leaving a bewildered Joaquin trying to contemplate what just happened.

—/—/—

It took exactly an hour for Joaquin and Connor to turn into friends.

Over the stale cafeteria food, their conversations deepened. Connor, surprisingly, opened up about his protective nature towards Y/N, his admiration for her resilience. They discovered a shared love for old films, quoting lines and debating plot twists, their voices hushed in the quiet of the late hours. 

They were two people, brought together by the unspoken shared love and a shared fear, forging a bond in the little space between hope and despair.

As Connor tried to leave saying he would sleep on the benches until morning, Joaquin simply laughed, leading him to his room on the compound and basically threatening him to take the bed as he was going back to the medic dorm and he would let him know of any progress.

—/—/—

Connor walked into the room the next day, ready to face another day of sterile beeps and silent hopes, a forced strength in his chest reminding him not to cry, but the sight before him stole his breath. 

Inside her room, the table next to her bed had flowers, balloons, and greetings from her friends from college. He read the cards - One addressed with Nelson, Murdock and Page, and another one was a bunch of white lilies from a simple card signed, “stay strong - Frank.” he smiled involuntarily, his heart clenched watching the testimony of so many people rooting for y/n.

Days blurred into a strange, unsettling routine: he would find her hair already combed, moisturiser on her skin, and a change of her hospital clothes, which Kate and Kamala swore they had nothing to do with, only exchanging soft smiles anytime they saw him.

Snacks materialized in his backpack, clothes in Joaquin's room, Peter handing him a box saying his aunt 'accidentally' made too many empanadas, Kamala's mom’s parathas that he could never get over, and even the grumpy and brooding Bucky Barnes, shoving a bag of chocolate cookies into his hands before retreating into silence. 

At first, it was a bewildering puzzle, a strange, almost surreal kindness. Then, a slow, dawning realization: Y/N had built a family, a fierce, protective circle of love she'd craved her entire life. And in their silent support, they had taken him in too. 

For the first time, Connor knew he wasn't alone. He had people, a safety net woven from shared pain and unwavering loyalty, a promise that if he fell, they would be there to catch him.

In the midst of all this chaos, he couldn’t help but notice Joaquin; how he would linger around her longer, how his eyes would always be trained on the monitors, his smile a bit wider, relief in his eyes when he would notice her pale skin was returning back to normal.

—/—/—

“She’s awake!” Joaquin was jolted out of his afternoon nap by Kamala’s scream in the living room.

Connor immediately made a run for it, while the others followed.

Joaquin almost had an out of body experience; his physical form walking through the corridors of the medical bay towards her room, but his mind was back to the first time he saw her... the night they met.

to be continued...

<< Chapter 4 || Series Masterlist || Chapter 6 >>

---/---/---

A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Next Chapter will be up soon... Love y'all, Take Care!

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[empress-simps]

Close To Me

Pairing: Bodyguard! Marauders x Fem! Reader, Bodyguard! Sirius x Fem! Reader AU: Bodyguard AU / Muggle AU CW: Reader getting kidnapped. Sirius getting injured. Note: This might be the longest one shot I have written so far, this is also my first time writing an action-ish fic? So please do keep it in mind, some parts may be inaccurate.. I also published this at 12 midnight lol. Enjoy!(2.5k words)

You always thought it was a tad bit excessive.

Being the sole heir to a vast family fortune meant that you had the finest thing you could ever want in your life; it also meant that you had the finest protection. Your father handpicked every staff member that was assigned to protect and care for you- going as far as doing not just a background check on them, but also their entire family. Doing a bunch of psychology and loyalty tests were also a must so it was rest assured that they would do their job.

Having one bodyguard? Understandable. Two? Oh, alright just some precautions. Three? That sounds... very safe. Four? Now, that's where you draw the line.

Sure, being born with a golden spoon is great- wonderful, even; but you felt like you were trapped.

You wanted to live life like any other normal human being, away from assassination or kidnapping attempts that were made in your life. So, mustering up every courage you have, you stormed into your father’s study to try and persuade him to just at least assign one to watch over you.

It was expected, you failed.

Now you were stuck with four goofballs bodyguards who would protect you with their life.

James Potter- the strategist. He could sense danger from miles away and best believe that a safe escape plan for you was already formulated if ever things went south.

Remus Lupin- the mediator. He has the ability to appear calm and composed even in the face of danger. Remus saved you more than once just from his voice and words.

Peter Pettigrew- the tech wizard. He’s the one responsible for surveillance, turning any kind of technology into a means of protecting you.

And then there was Sirius Black, the jack of all trades. When your father chose the top candidate, it was him. He was an exceptionally skilled fighter, good with weapons, fast and light reflexes, can speak multiple languages (mainly French), and over all just a well-rounded protector.

Being born into a family with a long tradition and a reputation for producing some of the best security experts in the muggle world, Sirius stood out like a sore thumb. He was the black sheep who defied family expectations. His family's company, BlackGuard Security, was known for its merciless efficiency and rigid standards.

His abilities were evident. Succeeded in every training program he participated in, frequently outperforming his peers with fast thinking and adaptability. Your father noticed Sirius's unconventional approach to security and saw potential in his abilities. When he was assigned to be your bodyguard, he took it as an opportunity to show himself beyond the shadow of his family's legacy.

Sirius is your shadow. He’s never more than a few paces behind. But it wasn’t just duty that kept him so close; it’s the quiet and unspoken bond that had formed between you two throughout the years. A bond that went beyond the call of duty, beyond the formalities. Which he desperately tries to deny.

“Good morning, Remmy!”

You beamed, smiling as you opened the door of your bedroom to see the tall man standing outside, on watch.

It’s still a mystery to you how he looks so put together with his neat hair, suit, and the signature earpiece in his ear even though it’s still 7:00 in the morning.

“Good morning, Miss.” He smiles, closing the door behind you as you headed towards the grand staircase, Remus following a step behind.

“I rarely see you during mornings,” You comment, going down the stairs to grab breakfast.

“James had some matters to attend to, Miss.” He answered, offering a small and polite smile. You hummed, “It’s alright. I like your company, Remmy. Jamie can get a tad bit enthusiastic in mornings.” You laugh, as Remus looks at you.

“Don’t let him hear that or he might just throw a fit.” He chuckled.

“He’s James, it’s normal.” You grinned, seeing the familiar long black-haired guy talking quietly in his earpiece.

“Morning, Sirius!” You waved at him; his piercing grey eyes looked in your direction. “Good morning, Y/n.” he smiled, then went back to talking in his earpiece.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t a bit bummed that you don’t have his undivided attention, Remus noticed this and raised his eyebrow, smiling to himself.

Taking a seat at the rather large dining table, you couldn't help but sigh. Remus decided to tease you a bit, "Were you expecting more from Padfoot?" He smiles, chuckling at the way you desperately try to hide the blush on your cheeks.

"What?! No! I was just pre-occupied with other things!"

Remus doesn't believe it when your eyes wandered in the direction of Sirius who was still talking into the earpiece. "No prongs, she has an event she needs to attend in the evening." You heard him talking to what you can assume is James from the other line.

The scent of breakfast wafted through the air, making your stomach growl as the staff placed the dishes and arranged the silverware for you.

"Would you like some, Remmy?"

"No thank you, miss. I already ate."

As you ate a piece of your breakfast, you looked up to Remus. "Anything interesting stuff for today?"

"I'm afraid today will be quite normal, miss. Just a charity ball your family would attend hosted by the Malfoy family."

You frowned. It's not like you hate the Malfoys, you just don't like how they're trying to set you up with their son, Lucius Malfoy, when it was clear that he is infatuated with his mother's bodyguard- Narcissa Black.

"Do I really have to go?" You complained,

"Prongs already picked up your dress for later, Y/n." Sirius suddenly spoke up, and standing beside Remus. You huffed, already feeling tired.

“Maybe I’ll just sneak out again-“

“No can do, Y/n!” James appeared out of nowhere, his famous grin plastered on his face, Peter trailing behind him, tinkering with what seems to be a mini remote of some sort.

You crossed your arms, eyebrows raised. “And why would that be, Mr. Potter?”

“Because your escort would be Malfoy.” he grumbles, clearly not liking the idea and the dude.

“I beg your pardon?”

You tried not to roll your eyes, keyword, tried. Remus clears his throat, trying to mask his surprise. Sirius felt his eye twitch.

What if something happens at the ball? Sirius is the most capable one of protecting you from danger, sorrynotsorry.

“But!” James blurts, “We’d still attend the ball, not just that close to you.”

“Like that’s any better.”

James frowns, “Sorry. The Malfoys actually don’t even want us to attend and guard you. Your father insisted, telling them you won’t attend the ball without us.” He says, taking a seat beside you despite Remus’ warning glances directed at him.

“Just what do they want…?” Sirius mumbles to himself, already getting highly suspicious of Lucius and his family. (Not because of the fact that you’re about to get arranged to the Malfoy heir, no not at all.)

“They’re probably just annoyed, Lucius really can’t make a move on Y/n with us around.” James said, grabbing a handful of grapes and popping them onto his mouth, making you chuckle as you pushed the bowl closer to him.

“Alright, looking good Y/n!” James grinned, seeing you come down the grand staircase dressed in a red lavish gown with a gold accent.

Sirius felt his heart stop.

There was just something about you that makes his heart beat a little faster, time freezing, and the unusual flips his stomach did when he sees you.

Fuck— you were absolutely breathtaking.

You twirled, making your boys smile and compliment you, but Sirius just stood there, not reacting.

“Do I look presentable, Siri?”

You asked, trying to pass it off as a joke but they know damn well you were serious as you fiddled with a random lace in your dress. Not like Sirius noticed it, no, he was transfixed to your beauty.

“Beautiful.”

That was all you needed to hear.

“Mr. Malfoy, good evening.”

Lucius smiled slightly, taking your hand, and kissing it. “The night could not compare to your beauty, Y/n.”

It took every single fiber of Sirius’ being to not punch Lucius square in the face. How dare he flirt with you when he’s secretly dating his cousin?

You smiled politely, even though all you wanted to do is to stay a good couple of feet away from him. “You flatter me, Mr. Malfoy.”

“I am just stating facts, Y/n.” He offered his arm to you, “Shall we?”

Right. Might as well get over it.

Linking your arm with his, you nodded. “We shall.”

The boys instantly knew there was something off as soon as they stepped inside the venue.

James kept twisting the ring on his pinky finger, already thinking of numerous escape plans for different situations. Peter was on his phone, eyebrows furrowing as he checked and tries to figure out why he can't access some surveillance cameras in the venue. Sirius was on high alert, nothing could go unnoticed, he knows who approached you, how long you've spoken to them, the food that you consumed, and how that stupid Lucius kissed your hand, and interacted with you.

Remus also was alert, but one thing that made the alarms go off inside his head was the four suspicious men dressed in tuxedos quietly slipped inside the venue without getting noticed.

"Marauders, two o'clock. Four men, nearing darling's area quick." He told in the comms, eyes never leaving the four figures.

"Copy, Moony. Wormtail, any news?" Remus' earpiece was filled with James' voice. "Negative. Still trying to access." Out of the corner of his eye, Remus can see Sirius slowly inching to your direction. "Padfoot, do not engage. Wait it out." Remus heard James order Sirius, "I won't." he grunts.

That was when hell broke loose.

With lightning reflexes, one of the men pulled out a pistol and shot the large crystal chandelier causing it to fall and crash to the ground, breaking into thousands of tiny pieces. It was pure chaos, people were trying to rush out of the exits, chairs and tables were turned as they pushed through.

Sirius felt his blood run cold.

He was in autopilot, he dodged a panicked guest and leaped over fallen chairs, all while keeping his eyes on you. He cannot afford for the men to reach you before he does.

Luck was not on his side today.

He quickly closed the distance between both of you. He was your protector; he swore on his life he would protect you. Sirius would even sacrifice his life if it meant that you would be safe. He would do anything for you.

It was proven it wasn't enough when one of the men grabbed your arm, dragging you towards a hidden exit while Lucius Malfoy was escorted by the others.

"Fuck!" He yelled, as one of Malfoy's henchmen shot him in the shoulder to prevent him from going after you.

"Prongs! They have her!" They could all hear his anguished voice through the comms. Remus runs over to Sirius from where he was stationed, "Padfoot, you're injured-"

"I don't care!" He yells at his friend, "We need to fucking find her!"

"Wormtail, you better have the damn access already or I'll skin you alive!" Sirius barks angrily, talking to his comms as he fought the rest of the men with Remus helping him. "I'm in, but it's too late. They jammed the signals earlier and destroyed footages. Go to the exit, you'll see a motorbike on your left-" Sirius doesn't need to be told twice, he did what Peter told him and mounted the motorcycle, Remus quickly joining him.

"Can you see the black car ahead of you? That's them." Peter told him. Sirius was focusing on chasing the damn vehicle, so Remus answered on his behalf.

"Yeah, we're closing in. Prongs, what's your status?"

"Backsup are on their way, they'll be right behind you in 2 minutes."

Sirius felt the distant throb in his shoulder, the warm blood seeping through made his dress shirt clung onto him, but he paid it no mind.

"Keep your eyes on the road, Padfoot!" Remus reminds him as they narrowly missed an incoming truck. Sirius only nodded in reply as he grips the motorcycle tightly, weaving through the traffic and desperately trying to reach the speedy vehicle you're in.

"We're gaining on them!" Remus updates, seeing the familiar back up vehicles approaching, "Back up's near."

"Do not engage until the back ups arrive." James told them in a calm and commanding tone.

Of course.

Sirius will always be Sirius. When had he ever listened to Prongs' orders?

He is driven by his instinct, which is currently screaming at him to attack right then and there. As they neared an intersection, an opportunity was presented to him. He would be a fucking idiot to ignore it. With a calculated risk, he accelerated, effectively pulling alongside the car.

Remus sighs, already knowing his friend's thoughts and getting ready.

"Now, Moony!" Remus, who's on cue, leaned out and desperately tried to reach the car's door handle, and with a few tries, he managed to open it succesfully making him grapple with a man inside.

The car swerves, tires screeching but Sirius kept his pace. He can see you struggling with your captors, and he can hear the backup seconds away. He couldn't wait, every second counts, anything could happen.

"Hang on!" Sirius shouts, with a burst of speed, the backup cars sandwiched the car with you inside, forcing it to halt. Sirius and Remus dismounted the motorbike, guns drawn.

"It's either you release her, or I'll kill all of you and blondie." He growls, referring to Lucius Malfoy who is also inside the car.

The situation was tense, but the arrival of their team shifted the balance. The henchmen, overwhelmed and outgunned, let you go, their plan thwarted. Keeping the Malfoy Heir safe is their top priority.

Dust settled down, and the other staff handled the situation, wrapping it up. Sirius stormy grey eyes met yours in the midst of chaos. His shoulder stung, a reminder of the events that had happened tonight, although it paled in comparison to the concern etched in his face as he rushes to you.

"You're not hurt, are you?" His voice was barely above a whisper as he scanned your form. Your eyes found its way on his injury, "No, I'm alright. But Sirius, you're hurt."

Sirius exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and the world seems to slow down. "I'll live, darling. The important thing is that you're safe."

The sirens, flashing lights, and the buzz all seemed to fade out into the background as you stared into his eyes. Taking your hand in his, he placed it to his lips, pressing a kiss, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I was so afraid I'd lose you," he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice unlike anything you'd heard before. Sirius hugged you tightly, feeling him press a kiss against your hair as you leaned to his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

"You'll never lose me. Never in a million years, how could you when you're always close to me?"

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Universal Tongue

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Commissioned by @norsetenko, Dabi has been the science officer on the ESV: Ingenuity for three years, their vessel currently undertaking a five-year-long exploratory surveying mission. He never tires of going to new planets and seeing new things, though it's usually from a distance in the initial sweeps. But the jungle on this one is too thick for their rovers or drones to breach, which means he has the rare opportunity to go planet-side himself to collect his samples. Unfortunately for him, a heavy storm rolls in fast, and his pod is trapped in the mud.

Fortunately for him, there is a cave system nearby to take shelter in. And very, very fortunately, the strange reptilian humanoid who lives there is open to negotiating sharing his shelter for the time being.

Contents: Absolutely inaccurate sci-fi bullshit, language barrier, voice kink, brief descriptions of violence, anal sex, oral sex, xenophilia, non-human genitalia, double penetration, organic lube, oral fixation, tail fucking, grinding, cumming untouched, multiple orgasms, wet and messy, size difference

Word Count: 19,435

The ESV: Ingenuity has been his home away from home for three years. Exovin Explorations became his home at eighteen when he decided that even being on the same planet as his father and his constant belittling was too close. He put up with it getting so much worse for the two years that it took for him to study, improve his health, and eventually apply and test to join the program. It had been a grueling process to train his body, heavily scarred and stapled together from when he'd gotten into one of the labs at the Endeavor Institute of Interstellar Advancements and had gotten caught up in a volatile reaction. But he put everything he had into doing it, and had made it.  And the day he'd gotten his acceptance letter, Toya had packed his shit and left.

He went through his basic training, broke off into his specialized training, and at twenty, he had been assigned to the crew and the ship he would be acting as the Science Officer on. Burning the letter that had been addressed to him from his father trying to make him 'give up on a stupid dream' and go back home to at least be somewhat useful at his father's company, had earned him the callsign 'Dabi' and he had all but put 'Toya Todoroki' into the flames too. His official ID doesn't even say 'Toya' anymore, and of the names that he could have gotten saddled with, he's really not begrudging Dabi as his new one. 

"You almost ready, Dabi?" Spinner's voice crackles through the earpiece that's already comfortably in place as he finishes making sure that his suit is fully sealed from head to toe, and his full case of equipment is in order. At least he didn't end up with a name because everyone watched him fuck up the calibrations for one of their machines to the point it spun so fast it nearly decapitated someone. 

"Yeah, I'm doing final checks." He responds. 

Compress's voice crackles through next. "The radar is showing a forming stormfront about ninety miles off." 

"Are we postponing?" He doesn't really do a good job of keeping the slight disappointment out of his voice. The only reason he's getting to go down to the surface of this planet ahead of schedule is because the jungle biome that stretches across the southeastern quadrant of this continent has such dense vegetation that none of their rovers have been able to get in, and the canopy is too dense for their other sensors to scan. So far there haven't been any signs that the planet wouldn't be habitable to humans, but until every section is cleared, they're not supposed to go down to start cataloging anything for possible use. This mission got special clearance and Dabi always loves taking his first step onto a new planet, so he was excited to get to do so before everyone else. 

"No, it's still a ways off and it seems pretty localized, just collect the early samples." There's a wry warning in that tone, because it's been three years and the rest of the team on Ingenuity knows that he can, and will, immediately get distracted by any alien flora or fauna that he sees that is especially different from anything he's ever seen before. 

"... Am I still being dropped off in the lake?" Based on their scans, that's the only place that he can get dropped if they don't want him to have to hike into the jungle himself. He chooses not to comment on the warning as he ensures that he has his extra case of specimen jars just in case. 

"Yes." But he can practically hear Compress rolling his eyes.

"Cool," He secures his gear and gets into the single-person pod and straps in. "Starting launch procedures." 

It still takes another couple of minutes for his vessel to be lowered out of the belly of their ship. They've been holding just outside the gravitational pull of the upper atmosphere for the better part of two weeks now, and Dabi is excited to get to watch the descent out of the windshield as the pod slips lower and lower, into the cloud layer and then beneath it. The path that Compress programmed for his descent is smooth, though he does see the dark clouds and crackling lightning of the distant storm raging as he goes. 

It only takes a few minutes for his pod to be half-submerged in the lake, and with just a few flicks of switches across his control panel, it is starting to putter to the nearest shore. When he gets to the shoreline, another switch is able to get the mechanical legs to unfold from the chassis and bring it just up to the tree line before he checks in again, "Landed without issues. I'll be disembarking to collect air, soil, and water samples." He says mostly for the official logs. Then he pushes his luck just a bit. "Should I set up a collection container to try and get a sample of the rain in case it gets here?" 

Compress sighs. "We'll see. It's going to depend on how fast the storm moves. Be careful." 

"You got it, Cap." 

He disembarks with his specimen bag in tow and starts by collecting some of the rich earth that's on the bank of the lake. One of the best things that he's learned since he started training for this position is that life on other planets, no matter how strange it is, is also all so similar to one another. Planets with carbon-based lifeforms, which is Exovin's primary interest, are all made of the same building blocks no matter what else has changed. In the soil he takes from the bank, he sees that it's mixed with clay, and when he moves up a little closer to the tree line, he's greeted with with plants with pale woody trunks and tall splayed branches, though the leaves on this planet are extremely dark-- nearly black-- and fanned out in large bunches. The shape is different, the color darker than anything he'd ever seen on Earth, but he knows that he'll find cells in these leaves that aren't all that different to what he would find on Earth.

The little insects that he finds skittering around are all mostly clinging to those trees, steadily making their way upward to find a feast in those dark canopies, and the sounds of life filter in from every inch of the world around him. The buzzing of flying insects, the distant songs of birds that have chirps and whistles lower and longer than the ones that he's heard before, and the rustling of leaves above that make it abundantly clear that there are other creatures moving around in the foliage. He begins to take his samples, letting the pack on his hip begin to run a diagnostic on the makeup of the air. The gravity, according to their tests, is about one percent higher than the gravity on Earth, but it's not really noticeable as he moves around. Gathering the samples he was supposed to take is easy and quick, he's finished in twenty minutes before he asks for clearance to set up a way to collect water from the rain. 

He tries to find a spot that hopefully won't be too intrusive and begins to set that up as well before Compress's voice crackles in through his speaker again, "That stormfront is starting to move and it's picking up speed. Finish up what you're doing and return to the ship." 

"Got it." He doesn't dilly dally, though he wants to. He's the first human to ever set foot on this planet; he cannot be blamed for being curious and wanting to catalog literally everything he finds. They have another nine planets in their quadrant that they're supposed to finish doing these initial surveys on over the course of the next two years, and then they'll report all of their findings back to Exovin and return home for a year of rest and reevaluation. After that, they'll hopefully be given clearance to go to the planet that seemed the most likely to be able to sustain interplanetary resources and spend a few years there where he'll be able to explore and catalog new life to his heart's content. But for now, this little jaunt will have to do. He finishes up and starts to move back in the direction of his pod as he starts to hear the distant crackle of thunder. 

He's just stepping out onto the bank as a cavalcade of movement starts to come from alongside it and Dabi half tucks back into the trees to hide from whatever creatures are trying to take cover from the oncoming storm. The beasts that come through have six legs, and he's guessing they stand nearly as tall as a giraffe, their eyes are set into the sides of their skulls and their bodies have long, irregular stripes of white and gray across them, the color darkening and growing more solid as it reaches their heads which must be up in the canopy most of the time. The herd of nearly a dozen of them are moving fast as they go, and for a minute, Dabi is caught up in the majesty of seeing a species that it's possible no one else has ever seen before. 

And then they plow into his pod. 

"Shit!"

"Dabi? What's happening? Your pod just sent a distress signal--" Spinner's voice comes through sharply worried, but Dabi is just wincing as he watches the herd of megafauna trample his pod into the thick clay at the bank of the lake. He doesn't dare try to shoot them or set off an alert out of fear of starting a full stampede, and instead resigns himself to watching the metallic structure sink a third of its body into the earth. The pods are sturdy machines and he flicks a heads up display to switch to a live feed to show the rest of the crew on the Ingenuity what's happening. 

"Oh dear." Compress's voice sounds as shocked as Dabi feels, but then he starts to troubleshoot as the herd moves on and Dabi chances slipping back across the freshly trodden earth to get a look at his poor pod. "Spinner, are any systems reporting significant damage?" 

"No, it looks like everything is still intact, but two of the legs are wedged into its body like this. I might be able to remotely activate the third to try and dig it out, but I'm not sure." 

Dabi moves around to the side of the pod that may be able to help-- "The foot is underground on this side too." He warns before the other can activate it and make the situation worse. "I'll dig out this side and we'll go from there?" 

"You need to get inside for now," Compress tells him. "The storm is moving fast, the winds are charting at category four." 

"I can't get in," the pod would be the safest place to take shelter, "The hatch is buried--" he takes out one of the smaller drones that he has in his kit and launches it, sending it to scan between the trees and the rest of the area, looking for shelter for him. His readout is more simplistic than the ones they should be getting back on the ship and in a matter of minutes, he's seeing a strange blob of a structure about half a mile from the lake. "Is that a mountain range or a cave system?" 

"Both," Compress tells him. "It's the only enclosed structure within walking distance-- Do you think you can make it there?" 

Thunder rolls through the sky and Dabi's chilled just from how that noise has silenced the insect and birdsong. "Yeah, moving now." He has supplies to last him a week in his pack, just in case of something like this, and he knows how to set up for basic survival in case of situations like this, he'll be fine. He starts to make his way through the jungle again, having to turn on his headlamp even though he hates making himself a beacon for predators. He doesn't have a choice if he doesn't want to make this whole situation even worse by breaking an ankle tripping on a root. 

Dabi moves as quickly as he's able to through the foliage, but it still takes him ten minutes to find the cave system he's being guided to, and by that time, the rain has already started to fall thick and heavy. He ducks inside of the opening, large enough that he's got at least another six feet before hitting the ceiling, and calls his little drone back to him from where it must have been scanning the full system. The little bot takes a few minutes to come back as he checks in with the others on the ship. 

"I'm here, looks like it's high enough that hopefully it won't end up flooded with the rain." 

"Alright, good, it looks like there might be some thermal vents deeper down, so make sure to run a full air quality test before you remove your helmet-- if you need to." 

"Got it." He moves a few yards deeper into the cave and then does get out his on-site testing kit and starts to test the air quality and the soil and water samples he'd gotten from near the lake. If rainfall like this is common, then those samples should show him if there's anything particularly dangerous for him if he's exposed. 

It takes about twenty minutes for him to determine that the air is breathable and that the rainfall must be something truly torrential during these storms from the minerals he finds that have been deposited in the water through the erosion of stone. But it's not dangerous in it of itself. This is a perfectly habitable planet for humans and at least twenty three of the seventy eight cataloged species who work with Exovin. Spinner, a gecko-like humanoid called a Varqix, would actually love this part of the planet based on the temperature and humidity levels.  

Dabi takes off his helmet and cuts off his oxygen tanks to ensure that he doesn't waste what he has, just in case, as he sends that information back up to the ship. He settles in to watch the storm and run any other tests that he can on what he's gathered so far. He doesn't know how long this will last, but at the very least he can be productive while it's going. 

///

It's been about two hours with the sky still a riot of activity drenching the planet below, when Dabi's proximity scanners built into his suit start to beep. He glances up at the mouth of the cave, turning on the flashlight built into his wrist to see if there is a creature that calls this place home that he needs to be mindful of. But there's nothing at the entrance. He reluctantly turns to the deeper darkness of the cave and shines his light there, but he doesn't see anything coming from that direction either. The proximity alarm goes off more insistently, and Dabi hates every atom in the universe that has led him to this point as he preemptively brings a hand slowly and shakily to cover his mouth before he takes a timid breath and looks up towards the cavern ceiling. 

The hand was a good call, because even anticipating something being there, does not let him fully trap the scream that tries to tear out of his throat as that ring of light falls over the edge of the creature watching him from the ceiling. The alien is clinging to the rock, its skin as pale as the tree bark outside, and easily ten feet tall, and even longer than that as he sees its long serpentine tail coiling around one of his legs and across the irregular cragginess of the cavern. Its head is swiveled around to look down at him, solid red eyes from lid-to-lid save for the dark spot of his pupils. It's definitely a reptilian species, given the more slitted nostrils that are part of his nose and the longer slits that extend his mouth past the place it should naturally close at the corners. The creature opens its mouth and puts two rows of wickedly sharp teeth and that exaggeratedly large mouth on display in a frankly terrifying show, but Dabi has training for this.

He fumbles to push the button on the neck of his suit, and before the creature can drop down to hurt him. The speaker in his suit crackles to life and it starts to chirp out different ways of saying 'safe' in as many languages as Exovin has been able to register throughout the decades of interstellar travel. It takes about nine of them before they hit one that has the creature tilting its head and clicking back lowly. His translator locks onto those sounds and the earpiece he's wearing hums back to life. 

"What are you doing in my den?" The speaker translates the low growls and chuffs that make up this creature's language and the sound that his translator chooses to use is rude, frankly. The creature was already terrifying as it lowers itself from the ceiling. His body is mostly humanoid and densely muscled, his hands and feet ending with four digits on each, though his hands have one finger that is longer than the rest that seems armored, all of the appendages having wicked talons on them. Long white hair spills across the creature's scalp, reaching across its face, over its shoulders, and halfway down its back. Its long tail slithers languidly across the ground towards Dabi's things and he does his very best not to flinch as his translator takes in the language sample it's received and extrapolates a bit more to work off of from the language that the creature seemed to recognize. 

"I'm sorry to intrude," he starts carefully. The creature tilts its head to the side slightly as his translator parrots the words back in its own attempts at this guttural language, though it doesn’t make his voice as deep as the speaker made the creature’s. "I got caught in the rain and was looking for somewhere safe to stay. I don't mean you any harm." 

The creature listens, and then responds, "Do you feel safe here, little one?" 

Dabi does his best not to bristle, not wanting to potentially get himself into any more trouble. "From the weather? Very." 

It tilts its head to the other side, its tail swishing languidly across the ground as it looks down at him. "You don't belong here." Dabi is about to ask for clarification, but the creature goes on, "The sky egg, on the bank, that is yours, yes?" 

There's an immediate relief from that. At the very least, if the creature knows that it's possible for other creatures to come from their sky, he isn't going to have to handle first contact with a species that's going to be convinced he's a god or demon, or something else absurd. "Yes, I was visiting to learn about this planet," he gestures at his kit and the little vials of soil and cuttings of plants he was trying to process, "When a herd of six-legged tall creatures with long necks knocked it into the mud." He explains carefully. The translator will get better the more they speak and the more information it takes in from the other creature. 

"Aindrul," The creature tells him, and the translator tries to run that species name through their databases, but it comes up blank. It really was a new species then.

"Aindrul," Dabi agrees. "I can't leave until I can dig out part of my ship." He explains. "And I can't start to dig until the storm stops. I was hoping that I could stay here until the rain stopped? Then I'll go on my way. I'll do my best to stay out of your way." He will do his best to not annoy the creature with too many questions, though he has a million. Their scans of the other parts of this planet didn't show any signs of civilizations, which must mean that if this is the dominant species on the planet, then this species must not be very social, to the point where any information about culture that Dabi can learn will be especially interesting. It's always fascinating to hear about the cultural practices of species that are so completely different from humans. 

"...That is a long time to linger, little one."

Dabi frowns slightly, "Does the rain on your planet last a long time?" 

The creature frowns at him in return. "This is the storm of the tri-moon." He explains like Dabi is a child who should know better. "The rain will fall until the three moons are high over the lake." 

Dabi has to run some calculations in his head based on what Magne told him. She's their navigator and focused astrologist. This planet has four moons, none anywhere near the size of Earth's, with mostly two being visible at a time depending on what phase all four of them are in. Three can happen, but it would have to be the next time that they lined up to all not be waxing at the same. He tries to remember more specifics, but it wasn't his area and he was definitely more focused on and excited about the plant and animal life to have been as interested in the moons. "How long is that?" 

"A month, little one." 

Dabi blanches and the creature chitters at him. The translator picks up on the sound, but just informs him that it means 'sympathy, comfort' when his distress is so apparent to the creature. The planet rotates its sun a little faster than Earth does, the days are a little shorter too, but not by very much. Enough that a month here is three weeks of his time. Three weeks. Oh shit. "I, uh--" 

The creature chuffs at him again and then turns to start to go deeper into the cave, "You may stay so long as you do not get in my way, little one. But when the rain clears, you will leave, or my hospitality will end in a far less pleasant manner." 

His translator beeps to alert him that he was threatened, but the words and the slight growl to them was more than blatant enough for Dabi to pick up on that on his own, thank you very much. "Right, thank you!" He calls after the creature as he disappears into the dark. 

Dabi sinks back down to the cavern floor and pulls his helmet back on, calling back to the crew. Oh he is so beyond fucked. 

///

No one is happy to find out how long he's going to be stuck planet-side. It throws a wrench in their schedule, of course, requires a bunch of reports from Compress, and will definitely make him have to do a shit ton too when he gets back to the ship, but that's the long-term fuckery he has to deal with. In the short-term, Dabi is in a tight spot as far as rations go. He has a water bottle that is made to filter out any potential parasites, bacteria, toxins, and the like from just about anything he puts into it, and the rain itself is already, according to his tests, not too different from rain water on Earth, so he feels pretty safe about that. but he isn't as certain about food. It's standard practice for anyone on an away mission to take a week of rations with them, and he has that. He can stretch that as much as he can, but it won't be pleasant. What becomes far more pressing is that, as he gives these updates to the crew and they try to figure out what his next steps are, Dabi starts to notice that the temperature is rapidly decreasing. 

An aerial scan proves he's not insane about that, and the reason he's noticing it even in his thermal suit, is because it's dropped twenty degrees since the rain started two hours ago. The cloud cover is apparently so thick that any light and heat from the planet's sun is being dispersed in the upper layers of the cloud cover, leading to the ground cooling rapidly. Dabi is going to be in a rough spot if it gets too much colder at night even with the supplies he has. 

He talks to the rest of the crew for a few more minutes, but it's ultimately decided that he's probably best off going and talking to the reptilian alien again to see if it could tell him anything about surviving these harsh conditions. Dabi hesitantly starts to move deeper into the cavern and calls out, "Excuse me?" 

His voice, and the translator's approximation of it in the new language rings out around him, as he moves deeper, and it only takes until he's gone maybe thirty feet before he starts to feel more warmth in the air. Their scans didn't say this structure was connected to a volcano or anything like that, but Compress did mention there were other geothermal vents somewhere within the system.

"What is it, little one?" The voice comes from higher than he's expecting as he finds himself stepping into a wider cavern, an oblong chamber that seems to have a hole in the ceiling that's been dug out at an angle so that water can drain into what appears to be a carved pool in the floor. He turns to the left and sees that the creature has dug out a section of the rock too, about five feet up from the floor, and seems to have made it into a burrow. It's filled with leaves and other foliage from outside and the alien had been tucked into it, but now is poking its head out from the opening to watch him intently. 

"My name is Dabi," he tells the creature. "Do you have a name?" 

The creature waits for the words to be translated and then responds, his voice a low rumble that buzzes through Dabi's skull, "Tomura Shigaraki." 

Which gives Dabi a little more information about his species than he expected. "You have a clan name? Do you have a family?" 

"No. What do you need, little one?" 

"I'm sorry," He waits for the translator to repeat that, not wanting to offend the creature with his misspoken words. "... I wasn't prepared to be trapped through this storm. I wanted to know if there's any time when the rain lets up? I was hoping I could try to gather some supplies." 

"There are short lulls." The creature tells him. "Do you have enough to wait a few days for that? If so, I will take you hunting with me then." 

Relief goes through him, "I'll be good for a few days. Thank you, I really appreciate your hospitality... Shigaraki?"

"Tomura." 

"Tomura." He hesitates but still asks, "You told me before about the aindrul, I'm a human, what is your species called?" 

"Kir." As soon as the species is said, his equipment starts to run it through the database, but like the aindrul, this one turns up nothing. 

"Thank you. Humans... tend to like company. We like to talk to each other and spend time together when we're cohabitating with other species. I can do my best to make myself scarce if that's something you want, but if you're open to it, I'd like to know you more while I spend time in your den." 

The kir listens to the translator make his language understandable again and then considers him, its tail moving languidly where it's hanging out of its burrow, long enough that it's dragging against the cavern floor. "We can talk, little one, but not now. I spent the day preparing for the storm and I wish to sleep." 

"Oh! Okay," Dabi straightens, "I'm sorry if I woke you." 

"Humans apologize a lot." The kir remarks, pulling its tail up into the burrow and shifting so that the bulk of the pale body is hidden. 

"Can I ask one more question before you go to sleep?" 

"Hmm?" 

"What sex are you?" 

"...Are you looking for a mate, little one?" There's amusement in the deep growl of the creature's voice as it lifts its head to half turn back to him and pin him under that strange red-eyed stare. 

He hopes his burns hide the heat that goes to his face, "No, I just wanted to know what pronouns to use." Pronouns are hard across species, some not having any concept of them at all, and others having dozens with the punishment for getting them wrong being execution. But he would like to know so that he can report back to the others with as much detail about the kir as possible. That should help to make identifying this species against their database, if it's been entered under a different name, a little easier. "I'm male, I use he/him." 

"As am I, you may use the same for me, little boy." 

"I'm an adult," he stresses even as he starts to move back towards the cavern entrance so that the kir can sleep. 

"I suppose that means you won't get any bigger, what a pity for you. A little one forever." And Dabi cannot believe he's barely talked to this creature for ten minutes and he's being called short and a baby in one fell swoop. But the kir is amused instead of annoyed with him, and given the wicked claws and sharp teeth that he has, Dabi would rather be a source of amusement than a source of nourishment. 

Dabi leaves his main chamber and goes back down the long tunnel to the entrance, the air getting colder and colder again as he does. He is quiet as he packs his equipment back into his kit and brings it with him this time as he returns, taking out the small thin thermal blanket that is in his pack of supplies and trying to curl up as comfortably as he can on the hard rock floor. He sends a written report of the conditions, what he's learned about the kir, and then settles in as he listens to the storm rage in the distance and tries his best to fall asleep on the hard ground. 

Oh, this is going to be a hell of a time for the next three weeks. 

///

Dabi wakes, with something poking at his shoulder what feels like five minutes later, and he immediately palms the trigger in his suit that will electrify the outer layer to make whatever's touching him drop him if it proves to be hostile. Tomura sees his eyes open, and he takes hold of Dabi's arm, pulling him off of the floor. 

"Wha--" 

"Your teeth are chattering so loudly you're keeping me up." The alien pulls him, blanket and all back into the cavern and brings him over to his burrow. Before Dabi can say anything else, his tail coils around his waist in two thick wraps that covers him from sternum to the tops of his thighs. And when he's held tight by his tail, Tomura lets go of his arm so that he can use his claws to climb back up into his bed, pulling Dabi up with him. 

"Wait--" 

The kir chitters at him, and his translator doesn't have a word for the sound, so it simply tells him 'exasperated'. He pulls Dabi into the burrow, and even with the larger creature inside with him, it is big enough for both of them, though the kir curls his body and tail around him, tucking his blanket up tight between them too. He looks over Dabi, who is still a horrible cocktail of bewildered and humiliated, and then he tucks his head into his arms and closes his eyes, a very low purring starting to hum through his body. It's so low that it's a mild hum, but so deep that it rumbled through the kir's entire body and into Dabi's too. His translator tells him 'soothing, contentment' and Dabi really does mean to protest. But the burrow is filled with layers of soft material, grasses, leaves, and a strange shredded pale fluff like the head of a dandelion, which is much softer and warmer than the stone he was laying on before. Maybe the kir can be a communal species and aren't for some reason during the storm. 

This alien clearly feels empathy and has gone out of his way to express kindness, no matter how pushy that ended up being. That's a good sign, he reminds himself as he tries to relax against where his back is resting against the creature's long tail. There are plenty of creatures in the wide universe who don't feel or express those sentiments at all, regardless of species. He's a lot better off if he's trapped on a planet where this one would see his discomfort and choose to help him instead of leaving him to suffer or killing him for the inconvenience. 

He settles in and closes his eyes, listening to the creature purr and their deep even breaths echoing softly in the burrow. 

///

The next morning he finds the kir has already slipped out of his burrow by the time he's woken, and isn't in the cavern where he can see him, and Dabi does ensure that he checks the ceiling immediately as well. He checks in with the others first, 

"Good morning," 

"Morning sunshine!" Magne answers back. She and Twice should have taken over for Compress and Spinner in the past two or so hours, and she still sounds fresh and cheerful. "How are things planet-side? How's your big, scaly roommate?" 

"It sounds like it's still raining," he tells her, glad that his suit has enough lightly glowing element for him to see by even without using his full flashlight. "And he's nice. Any luck looking up his species?" 

"'Kir' didn't trigger any of our systems," she tells him apologetically, "but if you can get him to hold still for a scan or get a sample from him, we'll run it again." 

"I'll see if he's up for that." But probably not right now. The creature is already putting up with a lot from him. He doesn't want to push his luck and outstay his welcome when he apparently has weeks left of this. "Any sign of the storm letting up from there?" 

"Not that we can tell. The winds have held at forty miles per hour for the past few hours, but it hasn't stopped thunder storming. Sorry, firecracker." 

"Tomura said he'd take me with him to get supplies," he tells her instead. They had no idea that this storm would be a persistent problem, and there was no way they could have predicted that his pod was going to get smushed into the ground by the aindrul. There's no reason to linger on it, especially when, at the moment, there doesn't appear to be any significant and immediate threat to his life. "He also has definitely seen a ship and stuff before, because he's not really confused about it. Didn't Proximacard Multinational also do a brief tour of this sector? Any chance that we can send a request to them to try and find out if they logged the kir?" 

"I'll reach out, but it'll probably take a week or so to hear anything." 

"Not like I'm going anywhere." 

"I guess we can't abandon you there." She contemplates with a sigh. "You're the only one who gets excited about soil nitrates." 

"They're important!" 

"You have enough battery for long-range calls for two weeks, so we should start to ration your battery." She says, quickly deflecting from the rant he's definitely gone on before. He always had the doubt in the back of his mind that he would never see another world, so every small piece of these other planets he's gotten to explore has excited him. Even after years of it, every part of each world is a new, delightful mystery to unravel and observe. 

They talk for a few more minutes, deciding on stretching it to the four weeks they hope they'll need by only having him call in once every two days, Ingenuity time, and only for five minutes unless there's been a significant development. The only other calls he'll make are for emergencies. They'll keep an eye on the storm and let him know if the cloud cover thins enough and the lightning pauses long enough for him to leave before the tri-moons are in the sky. When they've done that, the call ends to start preserving his battery and Dabi carefully moves to the edge of the burrow and lowers himself down to the floor. That's not too difficult to do, though it was a little unnerving to back out of the opening and into the barely-lit cave without being able to see it, but he gets onto the ground without any trouble. He leaves his blanket up there. He doesn't know if it's going to get warmer again or if it will stay so chilled throughout the rest of the storm, but if it stays cold, he'll probably need to sleep there with the kir until he's able to leave. 

He moves out of the chamber to go back to his kit and he finds Tomura sitting on the floor, his tail coiled around his legs, as he looks at all of his little specimen jars and tools. His kit is three interconnected cases, one with tools to gather his samples, one to put his electronic equipment, and one with his supplies, like sample jars. His planet-side standard pack is also there and has been opened as well. 

Tomura has laid out everything from each of the packs in neat, clean rows that seem to correspond with which pouch or pocket he'd taken them out of. 

"Hmm, you know, I would have been happy to show you my things if you'd asked." It's not even really an admonishment. He doesn't know this creature, he doesn't know his customs, he's not about to tell him that to humans it was inappropriate for him to touch his things without asking. 

"You sleep for a long time, I will put them back when I'm finished." The creature picks up one of his ration packs. "This is... food?" He hasn't opened any of them as best as Dabi can tell, so he thinks that the kir must have just smelled the food through it. 

Dabi sits down with him on the cavern floor. "Yeah, I need about one more week's worth of food to last through the storm without discomfort." He won't starve, that's not going to be an issue unless things get really, really fucked, as far as the storm and his departure plan go. 

Tomura gently crinkles the package that looks tiny in his hand, especially with his one long armored talon. "...Does your food have to be... dry?" 

"No, our rations are dried so that they last longer without going bad. I can eat food with moisture in it." 

Tomura hums and puts the package back down on the neat pile of them. Then he turns his attention to the cuttings and other samples he'd taken the day before. "What are you doing with these?" 

"I'm a scientist. The group I work for has people, like me, go to different planets to try to learn more about them. I came here to take a few small samples so that I could bring them back to the bigger ship and see what they're like and how they grow." 

Tomura hums and picks up one of the jars with a cutting of a small plant he had found growing at the base of the trees. "Be careful with this one. When it's mature, it releases a cloud of burning dust." 

Well. He's glad to have found that out now rather than later and Dabi picks up the little tablet that Tomura's already laid out and scans the lid of the jar and makes a note about that. "Can you tell me about the others?" 

The tip of Tomura's tail lifts from its coil and swishes across the floor slowly and Dabi has hung out with enough cats to know that's a sign of aggravation, though he's not sure if it's something reptiles do as well. Though he does purr. Maybe he's got a little cat in him too, spiritually. "Why does your group want to learn about my planet?" 

Well, guess he does have to do this part of the pitch, though it's really his least favorite thing to have to try and make sound appealing. "We want to find planets that are safe to explore and learn more about. Not just humans, like me, but lots of different species who want to see new worlds. My crew just visits for a very short amount of time to find out what other species could come here for longer research studies. Sometimes the planets we visit only have a little plant life and some wild animals, but no people. When we find people already living on a planet, that other team will visit and talk to them to see if they can be allowed to study there." He explains carefully and then waits for the translator to do its work. After another beat he adds, "Do your people have a government that the other crew can contact?"

"We live alone, unless a mother is rearing her young, but a group could be assembled to meet these other people." Tomura doesn't say anything else about that topic and instead picks up one of his laser cutters that's no bigger than a pen. "Is this a weapon?" 

"I guess it could be, but I use it to take samples of things that I can't get with my clippers," he points to those and then puts his hand out for the laser cutter. Tomura hands it over without protest and Dabi picks up a loose rock from the ground, sets it in an empty space between them and turns on the cutter. He still can't hold his hand still enough to get a perfectly sliced line, given the flare of the laser can't cut anything more than three inches from it, and even touching the rock, Dabi cannot draw a straight line to save his life, but Tomura still chitters when the stone splits in half as Dabi finishes. 'Interest' his translator tells him. Dabi puts the laser back into the row Tomura had it in. 

"Do you have the means to hunt?" 

"Not really," he admits. "Humans don't usually have to hunt, and I'm a scientist," he says again, "I'm not normally supposed to hurt the plants or animals I find on a planet." 

Tomura considers that. "You should stay put then, little one. I'll bring back more food." 

His face burns but he doesn't protest. He doesn't know what other kinds of creatures call this jungle home, and he has no idea if he'd be able to keep up with Tomura, especially if he crawls through the trees the way he's so easily able to scale the cavern walls. "I'm really sorry about causing you so much trouble. Thank you so much for everything you're doing to help me. Your hospitality is greatly appreciated." He hopes that the mechanical chitters and chirps that the creature hears are able to express that sentiment clearly. Things would be much worse for him if he was alone, sitting here watching the rain fall and talking to the crew, sure that it would let up soon. 

Tomura listens to the clicks and his head tilts to the side slightly, still pinning him under those strange red eyes. "You're welcome, Dabi. You're a... curiosity. It's worth a few small inconveniences to sate that." The kir starts to put back the items in his kit, and yeah, they were laid out so he's able to pack them back inside exactly as they were. Dabi is guessing that if he didn't wake up, he wouldn't have ever even known that Tomura was in his stuff. "Do you eat meat?" 

"I can, plants too, but I'll probably have to cook them, my teeth aren't as sharp as yours." He just means for it to be an easy explanation, not really wanting to see if this creature knows about the risk of germs and parasites that could be in the meat of the other animals he hunts, but Dabi finds himself stiffening suddenly when a large hand shifts to his face.

The kir's skin is cool against his own and, Dabi finds, is covered in fine scales along the back , the palm tough, smooth skin. his long taloned finger rests against the side of his neck, as his two others hook under his chin and his thumb moves to his lips. He pulls gently on his bottom one. Tomura makes him bare his teeth and then clicks softly in the back of his throat. 

"Much blunter." Dabi's entire face goes hot as he pushes his large finger between his teeth, testing his canines lightly against his skin. Holy fuck. his thumb is the size of three of his own fingers and Dabi really doesn't even know where to start with the inappropriateness of this touch, but he really doesn't want to examine it either because then he might have to worry about the inappropriateness of the flickering warmth that goes through him at being manhandled so easily by this creature. "It's a wonder you can chew anything at all." He takes his finger out of his mouth and lets go of him and Dabi has to grapple for a second with that misplaced heat. Fuck, yeah it's been years since someone put something in his mouth like that, but he really doesn't need his body misbehaving like that. "Wait here, I'll bring back enough for you to eat." He instructs. 

Before he leaves though, he shows Dabi around the other parts of the cave system. A bit deeper in, there is a large pool that is being filled from three vents dug into the ceiling to let the rain water flow into it, creating a pseudo shower and bathing area, that Dabi is happy to be shown, because that means he will at least be able to be clean and clean the clothes beneath his suit while he's here as well. He shows him two other paths, one that goes deeper into the mountain that they can retreat to in case of flooding, and the other as a secondary exit in case the first is not viable for any reason. Then the kir leaves him to his own devices and goes out into the storm. Dabi watches him go, but with his coloration and the rain so thick and heavy, he loses sight of the alien in a matter of seconds as he takes off into the trees. 

///

Dabi's been alone for a few hours. The cave, even though the sky is still black save for the flashes of lightning splitting the sky, has warmed up significantly since last night, and he thinks that means he'll at least be safe during the day to take off his suit and just wear around his standard issue black thermal sweats and gray t-shirt for a while. He goes and tests the water in both chambers to see if it will be safe, bringing a small electric lantern with him. This, at least, has enough battery to last for months at a time given the simplicity of the device, and it makes it so much easier for him to see by. There are no notable parasites or dangerous contaminants in either of the pools, so Dabi does fill up his water bottle and let those filters take care of any additional microbial contaminants. He also goes back to the creature's bed and finds a few little foot holds in the wall and uses those to step up high enough he can actually look into the bed with the lantern. The cavern he's carved out for himself in the wall is an oblong shape with a domed ceiling that is at least nine feet deep and about four and a half feet tall at the highest point of the ceiling. It's been stuffed full of leaves and dried grasses like he'd noted before, but he is more interested in the white papery stuff. He takes a little sample of that out, putting that in the jar he has, and then reaching to touch it without his gloves. It feels soft and papery, and he figures the shreds of this must be what gives the rest of the bedding its fluff. 

He goes back to his equipment and sits down, beginning to go through his samples one-by-one, and doing whatever field tests he can with what he has on hand, writing everything down as neatly as possible in an actual notebook by hand. At least this way he'll be able to photograph these pages and send his work back to base during his next check-in to save power. And he waits. 

///

It's starting to get chilly again and he's gotten back into his suit when Tomura comes back into the cave. He hears the change of the cadence of the falling rain and gets to his feet, going to greet him at the mouth only to find himself gaping as he sees the large predator dragging an even larger animal behind in his tail. His arms are full of round, nearly bowling ball sized fruits, and he's completely drenched, not that that's a surprise, with his long hair plastered to his face and down his back. 

"Little one," he greets, but moves past him, inclining his head to get Dabi to follow, which he does, a good yard and a half behind him as he tries to take in what he can of the beast that the other killed. This creature also has the pale coloring that the other animals on this planet have had with the majority of its body being white, and pale shades of gray, in splotches and stripes, but the back and head of this creature is dark like the canopy above, the color split like that of a shark. It is a quadrupedal creature that he guesses must live among the higher tree branches because its feet and hands are structured the same, like with monkeys and chimps on Earth. It also is scaled rather than furry though, and its corpse is bleeding sluggishly as it's dragged deeper into the cave from the wounds in its neck and side that look like they're from Tomura's teeth and claws, its head rotated at a sharply unnatural angle that Dabi guesses is what actually killed it. 

They move into the main cavern and Tomura drops the beast from his tail and then uses that and his arms to set down and stack the bulbous fruits. Dabi hadn't turned off his lantern when he heard him approaching, and Tomura blinks at the light, but doesn't comment on it. The fruit are the deep red of an apple, though the color is almost uncomfortably uniform across all of them. He expects fruit to have variation in it, and the stunning lack of change aside from a slight difference in size is very strange. 

"Do your tests, find what you can eat. I will take whatever you cannot." 

"Thank you." He really doesn't have better words to express his gratitude for the other creature's hospitality, so he tries to at least just be fast about it. 

Dabi goes and gets his kit and uses his tools to take samples from the beast. He does test the meat, and over the course of the next hour he determines that the meat is edible, and will remain so after it's been cooked. He's glad that he did get survival training though, because as he carefully butchers a section of the large carcass, he feels Tomura watching him from his burrow. He hopes he doesn't look too inept. He has a small flash cooker with him, only big enough to contain 20oz of whatever he puts in it at a time, but it can also work as a dehydrator, and Dabi determines how much meat he'll need to stretch his rations to make it a full month, just in case something else goes wrong. 

He takes what he needs and it's barely a quarter of the meat on one side of the creature's body, then he moves off to the side so that he can work on cutting it into strips and making it into jerky. 

"Little one, surely that isn't enough." 

"I'm little," he says, with some amusement when the creature seems to be admonishing him. "And I don't hunt, I don't need as much energy as you do." 

He huffs softly, but does move over to the carcass himself and begins to take his meal. Dabi watches between changing out strips of meat in the small chamber. Tomura's mouth is large, despite how it looks when he's just talking, and he uses the way his jaw can seemingly unhinge to take large bites out of the creature's body, focusing on the areas that are covered in the most muscle tissue. The two rows of teeth carve deep grooves out of the creature and, like Spinner, he doesn't really chew his food, just making sure the chunks he takes in are manageable and then swallowing them down. He also can, apparently, eat bone, though he does tend to break open the bigger ones first to lick out the marrow with a long forked tongue. It's a little gross to watch, but no different in concept to any wild predator taking a meal, and by the time Dabi has finished dehydrating most of the meat and flash cooking the strip that he is going to eat fresh tonight, the kir has consumed half of the corpse. He purrs and the translator tells Dabi 'content', though he could have guessed that on his own. 

When he finishes with the carcass, Tomura takes the last of his kill out of the cave again, but he takes it through the other tunnel that he showed Dabi earlier and then doesn't come back immediately. Dabi takes that opportunity to have a bite of the meat himself. It has a toughness and a gaminess that Dabi has heard is common in wild game, and has a deeper umami flavor than beef alone usually does. It's definitely palatable and Dabi is certain that if it was prepared with even a bit of salt, it would be an easy staple meat and livestock on this planet if it were ever colonized. He is eating when Tomura comes back after about ten minutes, the blood and gore cleaned from his skin completely. 

He sees Dabi is eating and nods to himself before going over to the fruits. He uses his long index finger to break open a small part of the shell, and given the force he uses for it, and the way that the accompanying crack sounds as it echoes around the room with them, has him guessing they're as hard as a coconut at least. The coloration has also started to wash out slightly, getting less vibrant as Tomura puts the fruit back on the ground and kicks it towards the pool that is still filling with rain water. It rolls easily across the stone until it splashes into the little pool and then Dabi jumps out of his skin as it explodes with a loud pop, spraying a foot around the puddle with displaced water. 

Tomura lets out a hissy little chitter. 'Laughter, mockery'. Dabi glares at him, but the kir just chirps in reply before going over to the shallow pool and fishing out the fruit with his tail. It's cracked nearly all the way in half now, and the color of the outer skin is that vibrant rich red again. The inner flesh looks to be mostly a papery, stringy pulp, but he tears that away and pushes it to the side before extracting a fist-size mass of paler pinkish flesh that's dripping with a semi-translucent fluid before coming to sit down beside him. He offers him half of the flesh and Dabi takes it and puts a small pinch of the sticky flesh into his scanner. It takes a minute for it to work and firstly determine that it's not poisonous. Then it begins to break down the nutritional components inside of it. 

After another few minutes it beeps again and Dabi has to read the output twice to make certain that it's correct. The fruit is rich in vitamin C and D, with nearly double the amount of protein as guava, and it has more than ten percent of Ladreynyx per ounce. Holy fuck. Ladreynyx is one of the most sought-after substances in the wider known universe. It tends to occur on planets that at one point had a higher concentration of radiation, and early lifeforms seemed to develop this secretion to help counteract that and neutralize the negative effects of the radiation, healing their own cells and insolating them from the worst parts of it, so that they could thrive. It's such a hard to find substance, and one that medical professionals want in abundance so that they can test out how much good it can do helping to treat and prevent cancer and other forms of radiation sickness. All of which are becoming more common given how many people are going off-planet and getting exposed to the radiation of different planets and their atmospheres. 

"What's this fruit called?" He asks as he brings a small bit of it to his lips. Ladreynyx isn't poisonous unprocessed, but he is a bit concerned that it may be bitter and medicinal. The flesh has the texture of slightly unripe mango, and a sharp citric flavor that is bright on his tongue, but as he chews it mellows into a softer sweetness that reminds him of dango. 

"Uzut, they can only be harvested during the rain." Tomura explains, seeming satisfied with Dabi eating the flesh. "They wither quickly once they've been removed from the water and the inside becomes foul when the skin ashens." 

"And they explode?"

"Only when their shell is compromised in water. But it is a faster way of getting to the pits. It kills the fish that try to eat them." 

Dabi takes another bite of the flesh and then asks, "And what kind of creature was that?" There is some hesitation in the question. Some species find constant questions unpleasant, some find them outright rude, and he really doesn't want to piss off his host. 

Tomura doesn't get aggravated though. He answers any question Dabi asks him and asks his own in turn as the night gets colder and the thunder keeps booming outside. And they spend their evening talking about anything and everything that either of them can think of. 

///

They spend the next two days together, with Dabi sleeping in the creature's bed with him against the chill, and the kir being as amused and interested in learning about humans as Dabi is about learning as much as he can about this planet. Being on a surveying crew, he doesn't usually get to become so focused on the worlds they visit. Usually, he only gets to take a passing interest, but this, for as unorthodox and unforeseen the circumstances may be, is giving him the opportunity to learn as much as he can about this planet as possible. 

They're sitting together on the floor of the main chamber, Tomura curled around him, his tail easily fully encircling him, though not touching, just close so that he can watch as Dabi lays out his samples in order of what he wrote about in his notebook so that he can send his pictures back to base. He's learned that Tomura can change from being an endotherm to an exotherm, mostly at will, and during the day he tends to be endothermic and delights in having Dabi's much hotter body as a way to soak up some extra warmth when he can. When everything is all ready, Dabi turns his communicator back on and turns off his translator. He doesn't necessarily want the other creature to hear everything that he's saying, especially if they've turned up something interesting about the kir from past expeditions. 

On the hour, the connection opens up and Dabi immediately starts to take and transmit the pictures of his notes before Compress even opens his mouth. 

"Dabi--" he pauses in his greeting as he starts to see them coming through. "I take it you're doing fine then?" 

"Yeah, I'm good. Tomura has been super helpful and very nice." And the creature immediately pokes his head up from it resting on the circle of his arms when he hears his name and enters the frame slightly. He clicks at the screen and Compress smiles at the other creature. 

"That's good." And they launch into the rest of their check-in. No news yet from Proximacard and the storm is as thick as ever from their scans, but other than that, there hasn't been too much disturbance on their end either. They filed the paperwork to deal with the sudden delay in their schedule, and they may be rerouted to dock at the nearest space station afterwards so he can get a proper check-up and they can restock on the supplies they're going to be down because of the delay, but it doesn't sound like they're in any trouble over it so far. 

Dabi hopes they'll be in even less of it when he uploads his notes about the Uzut and their abundance of Ladreynyx. 

///

The storm rages on outside and time slips by. By the end of the first week, Dabi feels gross enough that he needs to bathe and preferably clean his clothes as well. The only thing that keeps him from it initially, is that it's dark and still fairly cool in the cave even during the day, and he's worried that he won't be able to get them dry again. He voiced the concern to Tomura and the kir considered for a little while before he disappeared for a few hours. Then he'd come back with a few strange mud-covered bulbs like that of a tulip, that were as long as Dabi's forearm. Tomura used his claws to tear them open and inside had been a fibrous tissue that Dabi had been able to light with his laser tool, creating a small fire near the second entrance to the cavern that he could use to dry his clothes over. That was a fantastic bonus, but he wasn't prepared for the kir to follow him into the second pool to bathe. 

His face had heated, but he stripped down anyway, only leaving his translator, the speaker wrapped around his throat, and the earpiece in place so that he would be able to understand what the creature said as he bent over the pool and sunk his arm in up to the shoulder. He pulled up an egg-plant shaped fruit from inside of the water, that was bleached as white as so much of the vegetation that grows near the ground on this planet. He squeezed it, and it started to ooze out a thick viscous liquid that smelled strongly herbaceous, and Dabi had to pull his clothes back on to run a sample through his scanner to determine that it wouldn't melt off his skin before he'd accepted it. 

It definitely wasn't quite soap as he was used to it, but the way it lathers and how it does help to leave his skin clean in a way he guesses isn't dissimilar to the way bitter ginger nectar can on earth. He washes himself and his clothes, and then wraps himself up in his thermal blanket as he waits for them to dry. And Tomura stays with him, his eyes linger over his body, but Dabi can't begrudge him that. He's been looking at the alien's body whenever he can, fascinated by every inch of pale flesh and patch of scales, the curve of muscles beneath, his single armored finger on each hand, his sharp, bright eyes and large, dangerous teeth. Tomura is far from the first alien species he's ever interacted with, but this is different from meeting a foreign species in one of his classes or on an established planet. This feels... special. So he doesn't protest when he finds the creature's strange eyes lingering on any patch of his skin, and when he chitters at him inquisitively about the scars littered across his body, Dabi explains what those are too. 

It's especially amazing how he takes that in stride and it doesn't change the texture of his glances. There is no pity that sours his looks. It's been a very long time since Dabi met someone who could manage that.

///

The first week is the most difficult, and even then, it's only a challenge because they are starting to put together a routine. Not because there is any real hardship. He learns that aside from hunting when he's hungry, something he usually only has to do once a week given the volume of what he eats during his meals, Tomura spends most of his days sleeping. It's not uncommon for species that haven't developed other kinds of entertainment, and since the kir are intensely isolationist to maintain their territories, they don't have any kind of society or trading. Dabi talks a little about his, how humans are a social species, how they have laws and things that they have to abide by so that they could invent agriculture and industry. He's not trying to convince the kir that is the way things should be done-- the earliest humans who wanted to explore the stars had definitely tried that, and there are chapters after chapters dedicated to them in every textbook for every beginner course on space travel that talks about how they were slaughtered for trying to colonize other sentient races. Which is why Exovin's policies are to make contact and enter discussions, meeting the dominant species on their terms before anything else. 

Tomura asks about how humans live on Earth and in their societies, so Dabi tells him. And in turn Tomura tells him things about his species. 

"Our mothers lay and hatch a clutch of usually two to three young at a time." 

"You have siblings?" 

"One, a sister. I haven't seen her since we left our mother's den when we were of age. I believe she makes her territory in the desert." 

"Will you ever visit her? Or your mom?"

"No, females are fiercely territorial. She would probably tear off my head long before realizing who I was." He chitters, but the translator says he's amused by the thought, so Dabi figures that his species must not get lonely, must not crave connection the way humans do. "Do you have siblings?" 

"Yeah, I'm the oldest of four. I have one younger sister and two younger brothers." And on and on their conversations go. 

Tomura doesn't seem to have any concerns about having their long talks, especially not when Dabi doesn't protest to him wrapping around his body the same way he does when they are laying together in his burrow at night. And Dabi never protests, even when he is made to feel so small because Tomura's voice is always so low. It rumbles through his chest in his chitters, growls, and purrs as he speaks, and they send a low, steady hum throughout the room. The vibration of them as he speaks sometimes makes gooseflesh crawl along his skin... and sometimes it puts a little heat there too. 

Dabi really does his best to not think about that, but he can't quite help it. He recognizes the growl that he lets out when he says 'little one' even without the translator now. Fuck, maybe three years without any sexual contact that wasn't his own hands is more than he thought it was. He never broke down or hooked up with any of the others, though he thinks that they may have been on and off throughout their voyage. He wasn't usually aching for it, but something about Tomura, something about the way he watches him, the way he leans in close and speaks too him so low that Dabi can feel the echoes of his voice in his own chest, that's making the celibacy a far more noticeable inconvenience. 

But he doesn't know how the kir mate, and he is not about to ask. Besides, he's damn sure that Twice and Magne won't let him live it down if his 'first contact' has to have the 'Kirk Clause' added to his final report. 

///

At the midpoint of the storm, the howling winds, crashing thunder, and torrential rain somehow get even worse. His check-in isn't until tomorrow, but Dabi has a sneaking suspicion that they're getting into a severe enough storm that tornados would be possible if this were Earth. He asks Tomura if they have tornadoes here, and he seems flabbergasted by the concept, which leads them to discussing the different natural disasters that they can have on their opposing planets and Dabi watches Tomura dig out another little hole in the side of the wall, easily breaking through the stone and scraping away the contents.

He had been thinking, given it was a smaller structure, that it was going to be a bed for him, because the kir wanted him out of his space, but when it's finished, it's just big enough for Dabi to store his kit and suit so that they aren't tucked off at the side of the room anymore. Tomura still lifts him into his bed at night and holds him close as they sleep, his purrs rumbling through them both.

///

It's still cool and late when Dabi wakes hearing his communicator chirping frantically from its place across the room. Tomura grumbles, but unwraps his tail from around Dabi's body, relinquishing his hold around his waist as well when he recognizes the sound. Dabi slips out of his burrow and goes over to retrieve his tablet, taking it into the bathing chamber so that he doesn't disturb Tomura any more than he already has as he answers with a yawn, 

"Hey Mag--" 

"Dabi," her tone is strained in a way that has him sharply shaking the last lingering threads of sleepiness. 

"What is it? What's going on?" 

"Are you alright? Tomura hasn't hurt you?" 

He blinks. "No, of course not-- Why?" 

Her face is pale and drawn as a file comes through for him. "We got the communication back from Proximacard. They registered the dominant species as REH-129, and marked the planet as 'unsuitable' for foreign life because the species was extremely hostile. Six of their people died." 

Dabi opens the file, trying to make sense of what she's telling him. He mutes the video file that's been attached to the report, leaving the subtitles on, and watches as the Proxima crew lands and starts to comb the jungle, taking their own samples and exploring. It's sunny and bright in the video, but the footage has clearly been edited down to show the first contact with-- Tomura. There's no mistaking the creature. He knows his eyes, his hair, recognizes the way he holds himself as he looms over the crew in one of the trees and clicks and snarls at them. He asks them who they are, why they're in his territory, and Proxima tells him that they've arrived to enter the planet into the rest of the interplanetary community, they say they're looking for useful things, that they want to find the government if there is one here, they hold themselves firm and strong in the wake of Tomura's increasing agitation. 

They open fire when he moves too quickly into their space. The phaser blast hits his skin and dissipates across it harmlessly. And Tomura opens his mouth wide enough to show off all of his teeth before he lunges. The footage is shaky and awful then, a horrible blur of violence as he watches Tomura easily tear through their suits, through flesh, as he cuts down the members of Proxima. They learn quickly enough that they need to run, and the last of the footage shows Tomura dragging their dead deeper into the jungle. His stomach twists. 

Based on the feedback they were able to get from the suits, he'd eaten a fair amount of the remains before the signal stopped transmitting. 

"They tried exploring other regions and they found the other REH-129's to be as aggressive if not more so." She warns. "Are you sure you're safe there?" 

He was positive of it up until ten minutes ago. "He hasn't ever hurt me." Is all he can think to say. He doesn't want to elaborate too much about how close they've been so far. 

"That may not always be the case. The Proxima members who survived their other interactions found that phasers didn't work, but electricity and laser weapons could do some damage. If you need to protect yourself--" 

"Okay." He cuts her off, his stomach gone sour from this new knowledge she's saddled him with. "He hasn't made any aggressive action towards me. He said his people are territorial-- they don't even visit family members to keep out of each others' space. They may have just been scared of how many people were showing up in their domains." He tries weakly. But that doesn't take away seeing how bloodthirsty Tomura could be if the mood struck him. 

Magne doesn't look satisfied with that. "Make sure you're wearing your monitor for your vitals, alright?" So they know if he gets killed. It's not as if they can get down here to help him if they think he's in trouble. 

"Okay." He agrees, but they don't stay on the call much longer than that. He doesn't return to bed for a long while. 

///

He can't help but keep replaying those clips over and over in his head as Tomura stretches and readies himself for the day. He yawns wide and shows all of his too many teeth-- and then he licks his lips like a cat when he's finished. He tilts his nose up and scents the air, opening his mouth again to get an even better read on the room, and Dabi sincerely hopes he can't literally smell the discomfort under his skin. 

"Hmm, I'm going out to hunt. I'll bring back a feast for us, little one." 

He has never felt so relieved to be alone as he does now. "Oh, you don't have to worry about me--" 

The creature titters at him in that low grumble, leaning down a bit to nose at his hair for a second before moving on. "You will like what I return with." He promises, and then moves out to the edge of the cave. "Stay in this chamber. The weather may be worse before I return." If Tomura had said that yesterday, Dabi would have asked if he had to hunt today, or if he could hold off until things got a little better, but he doesn't now. Now he's worried about what Tomura will do if he gets hungry, so he says nothing. He goes and Dabi tries to put it out of his mind. 

 It's worse than failure when he watches the videos over, and over, and over again, as if that will somehow make the horrors he's seeing less real instead of more. 

///

He's alone until it's starting to get cold again, and Tomura returns with his kill. He made sure to bring the same creature as the first time, knowing that Dabi can eat that too, and an array of other fruits. He waits patiently for Dabi to test them to see what he can eat and what he can't, and he does have to put one aside for containing a nearly lethal dose of arsenic around any of the flesh that touches the seeds. But otherwise, he's able to try the four that are presented to him. Tomura watches him, his tail slithering languidly across the floor, a constant purr in the back of his throat. 'Happy' the translator tells him when Dabi lights up as he finds one of the fruits tastes like fresh strawberries and citrus. 'Content' it says as they eat together. He tries to pretend that he isn't scared when his mouth opens to tear into meat and fruit with the same ferocity. 

Tomura takes the remnants of their meal and disposes of them and he wonders if he goes to the spot where he dumps the remains of his kills, if he'll find anything he can bring back to the ship of the Proximacard crew, something to send their families, maybe. He tries not to think about that. He waits for the other to clean the blood from his skin and return and he cuddles up in his burrow with him when they're both full and starting to really feel the bite of the cold air as the storm rages on. 

///

Dabi wakes to Tomura nuzzling into his neck and purring loudly, he shifts a little to hit his translator, usually leaving it off at night to save battery, and is immediately told 'hungry', which sends ice flooding his gut. 

"Tomura," his voice is thin with his sudden, sharp terror as the kir coils his tail tighter around his body, pinning his arms to his side and forcing him still as he nuzzles in closer to his neck. His tongue flicks over Dabi's skin as he takes a deep breath, scenting him more thoroughly than he ever has before. 

"You smell so good, little one." He purrs, nuzzling his skin again. "Smelled like this all day. What's different, Dabi?"

'Hungry' the translator tells him again as Tomura purrs, the sound of it rumbling through Dabi's body and trying to shake loose his arousal alongside the fear tinging his veins. "I-- Tomura--" He squeaks softly as one of his large hands moves around his waist, slipping underneath his shirt and meeting his skin with cooler flesh and the barest prickle of his sharp claws. Tomura's tail moves, trying to wrap a little tighter around him, as he shifts so that they're not laying curled around each other anymore, but the other creature has his weight over him. And his tail drags over the inside of his thighs as it rearranges itself, putting a pressure somewhere that's had none for so long. Preparing to die by being eaten alive is really not the appropriate time for his body to start to warm, but Dabi lets out a whimper as it happens, two sharp spikes of heat in his cheeks as he feels his face begin to blush. 

The translator clicks something out in Tomura's language and Dabi stiffens, terrified of how that was translated. Tomura hears it and then lets out the loudest, deepest growl that he's ever heard from him which should be pants-shittingly terrifying, and instead only makes Dabi's body go a little warmer from hearing it echo around the enclosed space. His hands are firm as they pull at him, forcing Dabi onto his stomach and before he can ask what he's doing, he's got one of his elongated, armored fingers between his teeth. his mouth stretches around the intrusion as it pushes into him, back until it's filling him, the tip making his throat flutter as it sits just at the point of breaching him. It's been long enough that he's had something there that Dabi gags weakly, his head going into a dizzying spin of terror and arousal. 

Tomura presses his face into the back of his neck again as his tail wraps around one of Dabi's thighs and pulls it up, making him tuck it between his chest and the floor, his other hand around his hip and pulling those up and back so that he's spread wide. 'Hungry, hungry, hungry' the translator tells him, but Tomura is growling and purring. The hand that isn't in his mouth moves over his hip and up his back, pushing his shirt up with the movement. 

"I thought that things may be different for humans-- but you smelled so good, little one. This is good, isn't it? This is what you're hungry for, isn't it, Dabi?" His voice ripples through him and Dabi doesn't know how to think past that sound, past the fullness in his mouth to find fear when Dabi is hungry. Hungry in a way that the translator doesn't understand in its coolness. Not for either of them. 

He moans weakly around the intrusion in his mouth and timidly rocks his hips back. The growl that Tomura lets out has Dabi's cock hardening as the kir presses in even closer, putting his hips flush to Dabi's ass. But he's never seen the other's sex organs, and he can't feel anything now. He whines around his finger, licking and sucking at his claw, and making the alien purr even louder as he does. He doesn't protest as he pulls at his waistband and the sweats and his boxers slip over his hips, leaving him open and exposed to the other, his cock already half hard. 

Tomura purrs and leans in close again, nuzzling against the back of his neck as his hips move against Dabi's bare skin again. And this time, he feels something slick starting to spread over his skin. It's hot and viscous, and Tomura's tail uncoils partially from his limbs so that the thin tip can move between his legs. It pauses on its way to his hole, finding his cock and rubbing along him. "That's it, little one. I'll give you what you need." 

Dabi feels certain he's going to when that tail leaves his cock, which has him whining and reaching his hand between his legs to touch himself, as his tail slithers over his balls and to his hole, spreading around more of that slick over him. He's happy to have it because all too soon, the tip is prodding at his center, nearly as wide as two fingers and Dabi is moaning again. It's been so long since he's had anyone else touch him there and he is desperate for it now. Has been desperate for this creature's touch since he first caught his chin. He tries to stay relaxed as his muscles are rubbed at gently. For all that Tomura is so large, such a violent predator, he seems to know how to be careful where it counts and Dabi will take that if he can get it. He still doesn't know what the other's genitals look like and he's not even sure if they're compatible like this, but he's willing to try. 

The tail spreads that slick inside of his hole, moving against him in serpentine, undulating motions that makes all of those nerves light up in a way his own fingers haven't been able to since he's been on this excursion. His tail isn't like his fingers, it's so much longer and it gets perfectly thicker as Tomura feeds it into his body inch by inch. He had been hoping for a cock, but Dabi won't complain if this is what he gets instead. He squeezes himself at his base when Tomura's tail rubs just right and he finds his prostate, the loud moan that comes out of him is muffled around his finger as his whole body goes tight and he jerks his hips back against the alien's strength to try and get more of that sensation where he wants it. 

Tomura growls again and that does not help Dabi's leaking cock. Fuck. It's been so long since he was fucked-- he's pretty sure he's not going to last very long at this rate. He forces himself to let go of his aching cock, clutching onto handfuls of the bedding instead as Tomura's tail thrusts inside him a few more perfect times. He feels helpless, useless in the creature's grasp, and tries to show that he can be worth his time, sucking on his finger, swallowing around him, and running his tongue along the chitin-like armor plates along it, careful of the sharp tip of his claw against the sensitive tissue inside of his mouth. It earns him another low purr and his tail starts to retreat. 

He wishes he could speak, but his talon is too deep in his throat for him to manage it, instead whining as he's made suddenly empty. Dabi tries to push back, wanting to be fucked full desperately, and going stiff as he feels his ass rub against Tomura's hips. It hurts a little and he has to nip at his finger to get him to pull back just enough so that he can peek over his shoulder, but as soon as he does, he thinks his brain may melt. 

Like most reptilian races, Tomura has internal sex organs. Or internal until they're needed, and they both need them now. The two cocks are pressing out of a slit between his legs, stacked on top of one another, thicker than Dabi's and longer too, proportional for his body, but holding the same familiarly phallic shape that he expects. There are bumps along the top, ridges that move up his lengths to frame his head, and he's soaked, that thick slick dripping translucent from his heads and his slit. He whimpers. He wants to be full but-- but they're so big. 

Tomura's other hand cups his ass, pulling him open wider, his thumb brushing the edge of his flushed, puckered hole, and opening those stretched muscles again so he can dribble more of his slick inside. "Such a pretty color, little one." He purrs and makes Dabi tremble as his voice sinks that praise all the way into his bones. He presses forward, his heads rubbing against his hole, and he goes absolutely breathless with his anticipation. There's no way that he can fit both of those inside. A thin panic starts to go through him, terrified he'll be torn open, but the kir seems to recognize the tightening of his hole as nerves, seems to see the difference in their size, and he shifts to just focus on his lower member, letting the other glide between his cheeks instead as that blunt head starts to push inside of him. 

His cock is thicker than the amount of tail he was given, and the stretch, even through the slick, makes Dabi moan. Tomura starts to chitter too, purring his pleasure, and the translator can only tell him 'good' and 'hungry' as the kir slowly feeds his first cock into Dabi's body. He hopes that the other understands how good he's feeling as well, and tries to lave his tongue along his finger like he would if he had one of those thick, gorgeous cocks inside his mouth. It takes a moment before he's inside as deeply as he can go, purring the entire time. But once he is, he starts to gently rock his hips, and that immediately makes Dabi desperate for it. He doesn't know if he's ever wanted to be fucked harder in his entire life, and he can't stop himself from trying to immediately twitch his hips back to get more. 

For a split second he thinks he must have done something very wrong because Tomura snarls, his grip tightening everywhere. He's certain for a moment that he's about to die impaled on this creature's cock, but then he's pulling his hips back and snapping them forward into his body. Dabi lets out a loud cry of pleasure, his cock twitching and begging for release as the kir sets to a fast, brutal pace that pushes Dabi deeper into the bedding. 

He's blinded by his pleasure, by the rough thrusts of the other man, and he can't even swallow around the finger in his mouth anymore, drool slipping out past his lips. But as he gets more pliant, Tomura must think he's ready for more, because he draws his hips nearly all the way back on one thrust, and then there are both heads at his hole again. He doesn't have a chance to tighten, to fear, this time because it's a smooth movement, eased by his slick, and unrelenting in the even pace he uses, as he fucks both of his cocks into his hole. 

Dabi has never been this full before. Hasn't ever felt such blinding, perfect pressure against every inch of his inner walls, a constant, hard press against his prostate just from how deeply his cocks are reaching and how wide they're stretching him. And he can't hold on. Dabi gives a broken sob as his balls tighten as he's made so, so full, and he cums all over the creature's bed. 

"That's it, little one," Tomura chitters, his other hand going to Dabi's softening cock and cupping him, keeping his sharp talons far from his skin. "Such a good boy, showing me how good you feel. Show me again." 

He doesn't have the breath, or the use of his tongue to tell the other that he can't again immediately, but it doesn't matter. Tomura keeps fucking him, his cock pushing pleasure along every inch of his nerves until Dabi thinks he might tear around it. And he doesn't stop until Dabi is hard again and moaning and sobbing constantly as Tomura's thrusts and growls go through him and make him so, so hot. He didn't know he could feel like this-- he's never wanted someone like he wants Tomura right now. and it's with a fresh sob that he finds himself going impossibly tighter around the kir's cocks as his own pulses with pleasure as he spills across the bed a second time. 

The tightening of his muscles again seems to be what pushes Tomura over the edge, his hips slamming hard into Dabi's, putting his cocks as deeply inside of his body as possible, and then he snarls. The sound should be terrifying, but it only makes Dabi keen with an animal pleasure he's never felt before, as his cocks twitch and he soaks his insides with his cum. 

It takes so long for him to stop spilling, and by the time he has, both of their breaths are just starting to calm from the way they were echoing around the little burrow. He pulls out and Dabi mewls as he feels the flood of him go down his legs and soak the bedding. But Tomura doesn't seem to care. He purrs and chuffs at him, 'content, content, content', pulling Dabi's exhausted body in close as he licks the tears from his cheeks, but he doesn't take his finger out of his mouth. Dabi doesn't protest it, slumping against his chest and letting himself be soothed to sleep by the happy purrs deep in his throat. 

///

When he wakes again, he's horribly sticky, and still cuddled up tight against Tomura's chest, his jaw aching a little because he still has the tip of his finger between his lips. Dabi tries to shake the last of the sleepiness and reaches up to pull on Tomura's wrist. The kir looks at him, his tail twitching with his agitation, but he hesitantly lets him take it from his lips. A low, clicky, chirp leaves his throat as he does, and Dabi frowns as the translator tells him 'fear'. 

"What's wrong?" His throat feels a little thick, and he really is gross from the mix of sweat, cum, and bedding stuck to his skin, But he does not want Tomura to be scared, or threatened, by him. He doesn't even want to imagine how badly that would go. 

"...Typically, we don't stay with our mate after we've finished." He says carefully, watching Dabi like he might be the dangerous one. "Females try to incapacitate males once they've finished mating. They often tear or bite off their mate's--" 

Dabi blanches. "Humans don't do that," he tells the other quickly. "Humans can stay with their partners if they want to, they raise their young together sometimes, no one gets hurt in our mating unless they want that, or unless... something else is going on that's not okay." He doesn't want to elaborate on that now, not when he's trying to put the other at ease. He catches his hand, lacing their fingers together, running one of his along the heavily armored one. "...You keep females gagged so they can't.. bite?" And clearly evolved this as a way of doing so. 

"Yes... Do humans not eat their mates?" 

"Not like that." Dabi explains. "Why do kir?" 

"Once impregnated, it becomes hard for a female to hunt, if a male can't escape before she's recovered from the coupling, she kills and eats him to sustain herself until she's ready to lay her clutch." He's fairly certain that sounds like the mating practices of some spiders on Earth and arachnid-like races that have been registered. He'll have to ask if female kir exhibit that same kind of sexual dimorphism later, but not right now. 

"Oh. Well, you don't have to worry about that with me. I'm not a kir and I'm not female. Humans don't use our mouths to hurt each other when we have sex, and we mate for pleasure, not just to make children." He explains carefully. A flicker of warmth goes through him. "I can show you what we use our mouths for." 

Tomura considers him for a moment, his other hand coming up to his jaw, his thumb catching his lower lip again. Dabi presses a kiss to the pad of his finger, waiting for him to decide. "Alright, little one. Show me." 

Dabi is still careful and slow as he moves up the creature's chest so that he can start by pressing a kiss to his cheek. His skin there is cool, but not covered in one of the thicker patches of scales that seem reserved for along the tops of his thighs, his back, chest, stomach, and along the backs of his arms. He peppers those little kisses along the seam of his elongated mouth, showing that there's nothing dangerous in the action before he takes a little breath, tries to push aside the flesh he's seen the other rend with his teeth, and gives him one against his lips. Tomura is still beneath him, letting him do what he pleases, and Dabi pulls back a little. 

"We use our tongues too-- just not our teeth. Can I?" He figures he's better off asking than having his tongue abruptly removed. 

"Be careful, you're so delicate, little one." The kir purrs and the sound of his voice, the soft concern in it, makes Dabi want to show him that his softness is good. That he can make it good for the other as well. 

He presses back in and seals their lips together, going slowly, but deliberately as he shows the other how to kiss him back. Tomura still hesitates when his tongue prods lightly at the seam of his lips, and Dabi tries to soothe away that concern by running his hands over his skin, along his chest, down to his waist as he all but climbs on top of the creature instead of just being cuddled against him. Tomura opens his mouth a little and Dabi slips his tongue inside, careful of his very, very sharp teeth. It takes some coaxing before their tongues are moving together, and Tomura's is so much longer and more flexible than Dabi's own, and he tastes like the fruits they'd eaten the night before, though mingled with the staleness of sleep. 

They kiss, and kiss, and the longer it goes on, the longer Dabi proves that his mouth isn't any danger to the other, the more bold Tomura grows, eventually even chancing slipping his tongue between Dabi's teeth and licking into his mouth the same way that Dabi had his. He moans, his cock starting to harden, because Tomura's tongue is longer, bigger, and settles inside with a weight that makes Dabi hungry for something else. 

He pulls back a little and when Tomura sees his cock starting to flush, he begins to purr loudly again, his tail moving up Dabi's thighs to prod at his hole again. Those nerves are so sensitive from being fucked before that Dabi immediately moans, rubbing himself against those questioning little touches, and then watching with his own fascination and arousal as that slit starts to show on the kir again. His skin separates along an invisible seam between his legs and a translucent fluid starts to leak out. His tail moves from Dabi's hole to tease along the lips of his sheath, making more of that slick ooze out, and when his tail is shiny with it, it goes back to Dabi's body. 

He hums, pleasure sparking down his spine, and a recklessness deep in him when he murmurs, "Humans kiss there too." 

Tomura chitters, a sharp surprised sound. "Do they now?" 

"Mmhmm," he agrees, trying not to get distracted as the tip of his tail slips inside. "Can I? Please? I like to lick my partner's cock-- cocks." He corrects. "I promise I don't bite." 

The kir hesitates a second but then lets out a low breath. "How can I deny my mate anything that would bring him pleasure?" And the words alone are doing it for him as he moves down Tomura's body. His tail stays stretching and teasing his hole, but Dabi is mostly focused on how badly he wants to have Tomura in his mouth. 

His heads are just starting to press out from his slit and Dabi gathers some of the slick dripping out across his fingers and gently slips one along the lower head and up into his sheath, just a bit. He glances up to make sure he isn't causing any discomfort, but Tomura is growling and purring as his cocks start to press out a little more. Dabi teases his fingers along and around him, finding the one place of Tomura's body that is as warm as his own. He licks his lips before bringing them to the head of his upper member, and then he licks gently against that sensitive part of his anatomy. The flavor of him is overwhelming. It's a sharp citrus flavor like so much of the fruit here, but it has a musky bitterness to it as well that tempers the flavor somewhat. It's a strange taste to have on his tongue, but not one he'll complain about, especially not when he hears the strained little chirp that the kir lets out as Dabi laves his tongue along him. 

He's more than wet enough with his natural lube for Dabi to be comfortable kissing him along his lengths as they continue to press out until he's fully erect again. And then Dabi leans in, and completely wraps his lips around the head of the upper one. Tomura growls as Dabi moves his tongue over him, reveling in just how soft his skin is. He forces himself to pull off, even though he wants nothing more than to have the weight of him in his mouth, stretching his jaw. 

"Can I keep going?" 

"Yes," The other sounds half crazed, a hand moving to catch his hair and pull him, trying to get more. 

Dabi laughs, pressing another teasing kiss to the one he hasn't sucked on yet. "I can't get both into my mouth, is that okay?" 

"Little one, anything you do with your mouth is more than enough." 

"If I tap your thigh, it means I need you to let go so I can breathe." He warns, but trusts the other not to hurt him, and too impatient to have his jaw stretched open again to wait for confirmation. 

Dabi figures he's representing the whole human race and their persistent love of both giving and receiving oral sex, so he doesn't do anything by half. He does his best to keep his head on and not drift away and just fall into the haze that having his mouth so full can put him into. He moves along his upper length, his hand wrapping around the lower one and stroking him in time with each movement of his head as he slowly bobs down lower, and lower, his tongue working over him. The ridges and texture along his cock feel as good in his mouth as they did when he had him inside of his body before, and he drools constantly against his tongue as he chitters, chirps, growls, and purrs in such a messy string of noises that goes straight to Dabi's cock and has him leaking against his stomach too. 

He lets himself warm up a bit longer before he takes a breath and then sinks down until his head is pressing past the tight ring of muscle into his throat. Dabi can immediately feel the stretch there and it has him moaning, sending those vibrations along Tomura's length and his hand tightens in his hair as he snarls again, his tail in turn, fucking deeper into Dabi's body. He tries to hold onto some sense of rhythm after that, but it feels impossible. He just can't stop himself, moaning and rocking, trying to be fucked from both ends, and Tomura obliges him. He starts to move his hips, lightly at first, but when Dabi sucks and swallows so hungrily around him, the movements get faster, harder, and Dabi is floating, taking in little sips of air between movements and moans as they move together. 

Dabi doesn't get a warning, forgot to say he would want one, when the kir is close. He just gets a sharper deeper flavor of citrus and salt on the back of his tongue, and then Tomura is holding him in place, holding himself deep in Dabi's throat, as he cums. The gush of it makes Dabi dizzy as he does his best to swallow and swallow, but it still feels like there's too much and he taps his fingers frantically against Tomura's thigh. The kir chitters and pulls out, and Dabi feels his cum drool across his chin, as he gasps for breath, moaning from how close he is to his own orgasm. 

Then Tomura pushes his thumb back as far as he can on one side of his jaw and keeps it spread open, "Give me your tongue, little one," he growls and Dabi can't do anything but moan deliriously and open wider, letting his cum-soaked tongue lull out over his lower teeth and sore lip. Tomura shifts, bringing his second, still hard cock, to his mouth and fucking it inside. he doesn't push into his throat this time, but being used like this, just held open for the other's pleasure makes Dabi's entire body burn with his need. He finds himself moaning and shifting, spreading his thighs around one of Tomura's and rubbing his dripping cock against the texture of his cool scales there. That sensation makes his nerves scream, and Dabi chases more and more of it. Tomura fucks his tail and cock into him at the same frantic, unrelenting pace, and in a matter of minutes, his cum is splashing across Dabi's tongue again, and Dabi is following him, cumming hard against his thigh as he tries to swallow as much as he can with his mouth held open. More of it just spills down his chin and onto their skin, but the kir is purring the entire time that Dabi shudders through his orgasm. 

"Gorgeous, little one. So beautiful, so wonderful. My mate," he praises, gently removing himself from inside of Dabi's body. Dabi can't even hold himself up anymore from how good his whole body feels in the wake of his orgasm. Tomura just gathers him up again, and holds him close, licking up the mess from his skin as he purrs and purrs. 

///

They can't keep their hands off of each other once they've started, and Tomura learns to wrap his serpentine tongue around Dabi's cock and lick, squeeze, and stroke him like that until he's falling apart. He delights in learning about his prostate and that his tongue can be as good as his tail or cocks to stimulate the gland as well, and make Dabi feel good too. And they still talk, they still share meals together when Tomura goes out to hunt, and Dabi grows accustomed to the creature purring and purring all day, every day, getting even louder whenever they touch. 

But for as good as the sex is, as kind as the kir has been to him, Dabi knows, and when he goes out to hunt again and Dabi is left with only the dwindling storm as company, he finds himself thinking about that again and again. He sits with those thoughts making him colder and when the other comes back with more fruit and a smaller reptilian quadrupedal corpse, Dabi knows he has to shatter this soft thing between them that feels so good. 

"Tomura?" 

"What is it, little one?" He asks, setting down the food and coming to get into Dabi's space, licking over his cheek as he scents him deeply. 

"...I'm not the first human you met." He says carefully, watching the creature's strange eyes. "Another group came here, right? In orange suits?" 

Tomura's lip curls back and he gives an unhappy hiss. "Yes. They were not like you. They were many and violent. They encroached on my territory," His tail flicks with his agitation. "They wanted to take my land as their own and claim the spoils of it." 

"...You killed them." 

"Of course." He doesn't sound concerned about that, but when Dabi doesn't say anything for a second, Tomura nuzzles in a little closer, chittering at him softly. "They were different from you, Dabi. You came to my home and asked for permission, you ensured you were not hurting me or my land. You met me with kindness, not violence. I will meet you in kind for as long as you stay here with me." He promises. 

Dabi lets out a shaky breath. Well, he guesses when he calls Fuyumi next time he's on the ship, he's going to have to actually thank her for smacking him all throughout high school until he finally grew some manners and tact. "The storm is going to stop soon, isn't it?" 

"You could stay anyway." Tomura offers, "I would never begrudge your company." 

He can't, but the kir seems to know that even without making him reject the offer outright. Instead Dabi wraps his arms around his neck and the other purrs softly before he leans in to give him a kiss. 

They don't eat until, much, much later. 

///

The rain does stop after another three days and Dabi watches it happen with a hollowness in his gut, even as Tomura brings him outside so that he can see the three foreign moons sitting high and lovely in the sky. He sits close to him as he calls back to base and Compress tells him that if he can retrieve his pod, then he should be ready to go as soon as he's able, the kir scratching at his neck almost constantly as he listens. They're already so far behind schedule that they really can't afford to linger, and they're sure he's ready to come home too. The Ingenuity has been his home for years, he should be excited to go back. There's a pit in his stomach as Dabi puts what he's taken out of his pack, back inside, and Tomura ensures that he's leaving with samples of every fruit that he's given him. 

He walks with him out through the mud that Dabi really would have expected to be thicker given how much rain they had, but it seems as though the temperature creeping higher and higher is sending it evaporating and choking the environment with humidity and fog. Tomura keeps an eye out, ensuring no creature is brave enough to try to hunt him. The lake is, unsurprisingly, flooded, coming up to the tree line, but with a press of a button, the submerged pod is able to dislodge itself from the soft earth and crawls up to where they're standing. And then there's really no stalling anymore even though it feels like there's lead in his chest. He's only just started to turn to Tomura when the kir wraps his tail around his waist, and cups his face between his hands and kisses him. Dabi meets it just as desperately. Fuck he's going to miss Tomura. It's a sharp burning ache of that deep in his chest. 

"Be safe in your travels, little one," Tomura murmurs, resting their foreheads together. "And if the moons allow, come back to me again?" 

He feels his throat tighten. Two more years of his trip surveying this sector, then a year minimum back on Earth, waiting with baited breath to find out if this planet will even be considered for deeper study given how hostile the kir can be. Another four months to travel out here again. That's so long. Tomura might not even still be here when he gets back-- if he does. "I'll try. Thank you, for everything. I wouldn't have survived without you and I'm so glad that we were able to meet." He gets up on his tiptoes, and Tomura gives him another kiss. 

"...Be safe, Dabi." He seems reluctant to let go of him, but he has to, and Dabi steps away and seals up his suit and puts on his helmet. 

He doesn't dare watch out the window as he gets inside and does his final checks for launch. He is not gonna walk back into the Ingenuity crying. 

///

When he arrives back, he's immediately put in full quarantine. It's standard procedure for an extended stay on a foreign planet and Dabi subjects himself to it without complaint. Twice has him go through a barrage of medical scans, even as all of them talk to him through the glass like he's a zoo animal about how happy they are he's back. And he is happy to see them again. He did miss the familiar halls, their faces, but he doesn't think he does a very good job of hiding his melancholy. Definitely not when Magne and Compress come to see him at around midnight the third night that he's in quarantine and they pour him a shot before carefully passing it through one of the special hatches in his containment unit, before they both take a seat on the other side. 

"So Twice reviewed your vitals data from while you were planet-side." Magne starts. "I tell you a guy killed six people and you immediately have to get on that as fast as possible?" She teases carefully. 

But Dabi doesn't want to tease, doesn't want to make light of something that felt so... solid. Real. It only was a week and a half and Dabi is pretty sure it's the only romantic entanglement he's had in his life that made him want to stick around and find out how much more that could be. He drinks instead of answering her and Compress takes that as his cue to step in. 

"Dabi, whatever happened on the planet... if you're in need of counseling or assistance--" 

"Wasn't forced, Mister," he says flatly. "Tomura was good to me. He didn't like that the Proximacard crew tried to pull their colonizing bullshit. I was polite, he didn't see me as a threat, and we got close." He puts his cup back into the slot, waiting for it to be decontaminated before Magne can pour him another. "I've started writing my report, I'm being as thorough as possible." 

"...I'm sure there are things that you won't be including in that report. And that's fine, Dabi." Compress tells him gently. "But we're here as your friends. If that's something you need right now." 

Magne pours herself and Compress a shot and then puts the whole bottle in the chamber for Dabi. "Come on, firecracker, tell us about the scary lizard boy you had to hump and dump." 

"He purrs like a cat." He grumbles, taking the bottle when it's relinquished. "And he's got two dicks." 

"Oh, well, I could overlook murder for that too," she agrees sagely and Dabi tries to unravel the knot of sorrow that's been living in his gut. 

///

It's not years before Dabi is touching down far closer to the cave system that he spent so much time in before. It's only six months. Six long, agonizing months negotiating his contract. He'll still have to go back to the nearest base in a year and a half if Tomura lets him stay, and he'll be responsible for trying to find a way of harvesting the fruit of the uzut to try and find a sustainable way of getting more of the Ladreynyx for further study-- but he can stay here if Tomura lets him. 

He disembarks with a shaky breath. He has his own ship now, not a pod. It's small, only big enough for him and maybe one other person, and it won't be able to travel long distances, but it's his, and it can take him away if he's not welcome anymore. God, Dabi hopes he's still welcome. He takes off his helmet before he steps out of the ship, hoping that seeing his face will ensure that he doesn't draw any undue ire from the kir. 

"Tomura?" He calls into the forest, into the cave. Things are so quiet for a second and then he hears twigs snapping, and before he can fully turn, the kir is breaking through the tree line and rushing up to him. Dabi has a split second of terror that he'd mistaken what happened between them, his heart going to have to break before it stops beating-- but then he hears Tomura's familiar purrs as his hands catch his face and his tail wraps around his waist as he's hoisted from the ground so that the kir can chitter and purr at him as he brings their mouths together in a series of frantic, needy kisses. 

"Dabi," his name is spoken with such reverence between the kisses that it leaves him breathless. "You're back--"

"I'm back," he agrees, warmth blooming in his stomach as he curls his hands over the kir's shoulders. "I can stay, if you'll let me--" 

"I regretted letting you go the moment you left." And Dabi thinks, maybe, if he didn't know the other creature so well, that might be a frightening sentiment. But instead he feels so warm. 

"I've been trying to come back ever since. I have obligations, my company wants me to send more samples, and I'll have to leave again for a little while to check in, but I can stay," his voice still goes small. "I can stay?" Because this is for so much longer than before, this is asking a lot of a creature whose race typically lives in solitary. 

"By my side forever, little one." Tomura promises him, leaning in to nuzzle at him and scent his skin. "So I never have to miss you so fiercely again." 

Dabi doesn't know if kir have a word for love in the romantic sense when they barely hold ties to their families. But Dabi hopes that a year and a half to start is long enough for him to figure out how to explain the concept. 

Thank you so much for reading and thank you @norsetenko for commissioning this piece! If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a comment, they brighten my day!

[rentenier3148]

Held Together By Memory

Chapter 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You both were torn from 1940s Brooklyn and remade into killers. But when memories begin to bleed through, a second chance is ignited.

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warning: Fluff. Some smut. Angst. Slow Burn (?). Some cannon divergence for plot. No use of y/n. Language (sorry Steve)

A.N: I realized that it has been a while since I've watched the actual saga so sorry if most things are inaccurate. I'm also just lazy to watch all of them again. Plus, it just advances the plot. I love canon divergence 🤩

Chapter 4

✪──────•••──────✪

Unknown Location - Time Unknown

You wake slowly.

The air is cold—too cold. Your head aches like it's been split in two. Everything feels off, wrong, like your body doesn't quite belong to you anymore.

The light is dim, humming with a strange flicker overhead. Metal walls. Sterile floors. The faint hiss of pressurized air.

You're lying on a cot with coarse sheets, your wrists bound in leather cuffs to the rails on either side. Your heart lurches.

Panic sets in.

You twist, pull, try to scream—but your throat is dry, and your voice barely escapes as more than a hoarse whisper.

"Where—"

"Where am I?"

There's a hiss of hydraulics as a metal door slides open across the room.

Two men walk in. Cold eyes. Dark uniforms. You don't recognize the language embroidered on their sleeves, but their insignia—a coiled skull inside a circle—burns itself into your memory like a brand.

One of them carries a clipboard, the other something that looks like a syringe glinting with a sickly blue fluid.

You struggle harder.

"Please—what is this? I didn't do anything!"

They don't answer right away. They just study you.

The one with the clipboard speaks, his accent thick, his tone clinical. Detached. Like you're not even human.

"Subject 014 shows enhanced psychological resilience. High emotional intelligence. Unusually adaptive nervous response under sedation. Promising."

The one with the syringe hums thoughtfully. "The others broke too soon. Too emotional. Too aware. But this one..." He steps closer, tilting your chin with gloved fingers. "This one may be the breakthrough we need."

Your breath stutters.

They keep talking about a new program called "Black Helix" and something about "neurological remapping".

You don't know what any of this means, all you know is that something is very, very wrong.

The clipboard clicks shut.

"Initiate pre-conditioning. Begin baseline extractions. Memory access within forty-eight hours."

The door hisses closed behind them.

And you're left shaking, cuffed to a cot in a room that smells like chemicals and cruelty.

✪──────•••──────✪

Brooklyn, New York

The sun rises like any other—gentle, golden, stretching light across the city rooftops as if it doesn't know the world has changed.

Ginny Russo stirs awake in her apartment a few blocks down from yours, tangled in sheets and clutching a pillow she's long since claimed as Tommy's stand-in. She yawns, stretches, and pushes herself out of bed with the kind of lazy grace that comes from one too many late nights whispering under streetlamps with her best friend.

Her best friend—you.

She pads into the kitchen, hair in curlers and robe trailing behind her, and flips on the coffee pot. Her eyes drift to the small pile of envelopes on the table. No new letter from Tommy yet. She sighs, but it's okay.

She's got you.

After getting ready for the day, Ginny walks the now-familiar route toward your brownstone. Two cups of coffee in hand, a bag of warm pastries in your elbow crook, humming a Billie Holiday tune under her breath.

She climbs your steps with ease, balancing the cups in one hand as she knocks on your door with the other.

Knock knock.

"Open up, sweetheart! I brought the sugary ones with the raspberry filling—your weird favorite."

Silence.

Ginny waits. Then knocks again, this time a bit harder.

"You didn't fall asleep at the table reading love poems again, did you?"

Still nothing.

Her smile falters. Something cold creeps up her spine.

She tries the doorknob. It's unlocked. Which isn't totally unusual... but her gut twists anyway.

She calls your name.

She steps inside.

The apartment is quiet. A little too quiet. A coffee mug still sits in the sink from the night before. Your shoes are by the door. One of your sweaters is draped over the arm of the chair.

But no sign of you.

And then she sees it—your purse is still on the table.

Your keys.

Her breath catches. Ginny's been through enough long nights and lonely mornings to know when something is wrong.

Her voice trembles as she calls for your name again, louder this time.

But you're not there.

And the chill in her chest turns into full-blown panic.

Ginny heads to the police department to file a missing persons report.

The officer barely raises an eyebrow—"Probably just ran off. Girls get emotional during wartime."

But Ginny doesn't buy it.

She knows you.

You wouldn't disappear. Not without telling her. Not without a word.

She clutches your photograph to her chest that night, curled up on your bed, whispering a promise into the dark:

"I'm gonna fine you, sweetheart. I swear to God, I'm not letting them take you from me too."

✪──────•••──────✪

HYDRA Facility - Unknown Location

Three floors below ground. Temperature strictly controlled. Surveillance active. Doors sealed from the outside.

You lie on the cot, still restrained, body aching, thoughts foggy.

Time has stopped meaning anything. There's no sun, no moon—just sterile lights that flicker too often, and the cold voice of someone speaking Russian over a speaker you can't see.

they haven't fed you much. Haven't spoken to you since they evaluated you. But something has changed today.

You feel it.

The door hisses open with a deep mechanical sigh.

Two HYDRA soldiers enter first—silent, faceless under black helmets. Behind them comes a woman in a long lab coat, her heels tapping against the metal floor with unnerving precision. Her hair tied back so tightly it looks like it hurts, and her eyes—icy and detached—sweep over you like you're just another experiment.

She holds a clipboard in one hand and a device in the other—smooth, cold metal with faint blue light pulsing from the edges.

"Subject 014," she says. "Initiate Black Helix Phase One."

You flinch as the soldiers approach, undoing your cuffs only to haul you to your feet and guide you—not violently, but with precision of men who have done this many time before—down a long hallway of metal doors and silence.

You're brought into a circular room.

There's a chair in the center—strapped, reinforced. Surrounding it are machines humming with eerie light. Above, a ring of dim lights and spinning instruments like something out of a nightmare.

They sit you in the chair.

You struggle, voice raw. "Please—I don't understand—what are you doing to me?!"

The woman speaks again, not unkindly. Not kindly either. Just... calm.

"You are being chosen. We believe your mind is strong enough. Your emotions, adaptable. Unlike the others... you will not break. You will evolve."

Another machine whirs to life.

She places small electrodes against your temples. Ice-cold. Sticky. You tremble.

"We are improving on the Winter Soldier model," she continues, like reading from a textbook. "Emotionless compliance has proven unstable. Instead, we cultivate dual-function memory layering—a perfect balance of identity and obedience."

She pauses. Looks directly into your eyes.

"You will become what he could not."

The lights flash. Pain stabs through your skull. Not burning—not yet. Just pulling.

Pulling at memories. At feelings. At you.

Your voice cracks as you call out—

"Bucky—"

But the sound is swallowed by the machines. And the programming begins.

✪──────•••──────✪

The cell they keep you in now is no longer a prison.

It's a lab.

A stage.

A proving ground.

You sit on the edge of the cot, hands folded neatly in your lap. The light above you flickers in rhythm, casting strange shadows across your face. Your posture is perfect. Your eyes—distant.

You don't scream anymore. You don't cry.

The memories still come... but they feel like dreams now. Half-real. A boy with soft eyes. A kiss on a stoop. A laugh in the rain.

But the machine hums louder than your heart, and the woman in white never lets dreams stay.

Dr. Liska, which you later found out her name was, clipboard in hand. She's flanked by two uniformed guards and a HYDRA officer with a cold stare and silver insignia.

She studies you for a moment before speaking, voice smooth and even.

"Begin trigger sequence."

One of the guards steps forward, opens a small case, and pulls out a red book—leather-bound, stitched with the HYDRA sigil.

He opens it.

Reads, in a low, measured tone:

Неподвижность [Stillness] Лента [Ribbon] Звездный свет [Starlight] Двенадцать [Twelve] Сладкий [Sweet] Исчезновение [Disappearance]

Your breath catches.

You blink. Hard.

And then, your spine straightens.

Your eyes lose their shine.

You rise—slowly, silently—and look forward. Expression blank.

Dr. Liska smiles. "Good. She responds."

The HYDRA officer murmurs something in Russian, impressed.

"Identity is not fully suppressed," she notes aloud. "But control is improving. A delicate balance of emotional memory and mechanical obedience. The serum is unnecessary when the mind is this... pliable."

She steps closer, looks you in the eyes.

"Who are you?"

There's a flicker—deep inside you—screaming from somewhere in the dark.

But what leaves your lips instead is cold. Automatic.

"I am Black Helix."

Liska smiles.

Above, watching from the glass gallery, a man with a red skull nods in approval.

✪──────•••──────✪

Brooklyn, New York - 1940s

The sky is a heavy gray, pressing down over the city like grief. Slush lines the gutters. Smoke curls from chimneys, thick and aimless. Flags hang at a half-mast from too many stoops.

Two people walk toward each other down a quiet street, both carrying worlds of pain they haven't spoken aloud yet.

Steve Rogers, fresh from the war, still in uniform, a shadow of the man he used to be—even with the serum.

And Ginny Russo, coat wrapped tight around her frame, red-rimmed eyes fixed on the familiar figure she hasn't seen in over a year.

They meet on your old stoop. The one where you and Bucky once said goodbye. The one where hope used to sit between cups of coffee and quiet kisses.

Steve forces a soft smile.

"Ginny."

She hugs him before he can say anything else. It's tight, desperate, the kind that comes from holding things in too long.

When they pull apart, she stares at him for a moment—really stares. And her voice shakes.

"Where is he, Steve?"

He looks away. the answer is already written in the lines of his face.

"We were on a train. It was fast, moving through the Alps. We were chasing a scientist from an organization, HYDRA. There was a fight and... and Bucky..."

He swallows. Hard.

"He fell."

Ginny's hand flies to her mouth. Her knees buckle slightly and she sits down on the cold steps, stunned silent.

Steve sits beside her.

"I—I tried to grab him. I did. But..." He trails off, shoulders trembling, jaw clenched.

A long pause.

And then, very quietly, Ginny says—

"She's gone too."

Steve turns to her, startled.

Ginny looks up at him, eyes shinning with tears.

"She went missing months ago. Vanished without a trace. Everyone said she just... ran off. Or couldn't handle the waiting. But I know her, Steve. She wouldn't have left Bucky behind. Not like that."

His breath catches. "You mean... She's—"

"Presumed dead," Ginny whispers.

Two ghosts.

Gone from the same war.

Steve sits there in stunned silence, his heart pounding. His chest aches, not just from grief—but from someone else.

Something he doesn't understand yet.

Because a part of him refuses to believe you and Bucky are truly gone.

Not without a fight.

✪──────•••──────✪

HYDRA Facility, Siberia

The cold is deeper here.

Not the kind you shake off. The kind that settles in your bones. The kind that erases.

Deep beneath the mountains, behind reinforced steel and layers of silence, another name begins to die.

James Buchanan Barnes has been recovered from the snow—barely alive, missing an arm, his body broken from the fall.

But HYDRA sees something in the wreckage.

They see potential.

He wakes strapped to a table, screaming hoarsely until his voice gives out. He doesn't know where he is, or who these people are. His last memory is wind, ice, Steve's voice shouting his name.

And then—nothing.

Pain. Lights. Needles. Blades.

He screams for Steve. For you.

But your name has already been classified under "non-essential."

Too long gone. Too far buried. Too... erased.

HYDRA doesn't speak to him much.

Only orders. Commands. Numbers.

HYDRA scientists begin attaching the prosthetic. Flesh meets cold steel. Sparks fly. Screws tighten.

"актив будет возрожден" [Asset will be reborn]

"кондиционирование начинается через 72 часа" [Conditioning begins in 72 hours]

There is no ceremony. No humanity. Only protocol.

✪──────•••──────✪

HYDRA Facility, Siberia - 1947

The snowstorm outside howls against the mountains, but inside the lab, the air is clinical. Cold. Dead.

You stand perfectly still in a sterile chamber lined with reinforced steel and humming lights. Your breathing is calm. Steady. You've just returned from a mission in Warsaw—clean, quiet, fatal. No witnesses.

The report simply reads: "Success"

A man in a white coat circles you, clipboard in hand. Dr. Liska watches from a raised observation window, her eyes narrowed behind glass. a new protocol is being tested—one borrowed from a similar program now perfected in the adjoining sector.

Cryostasis.

They say it reduced memory degradation. Preserves assets longer. Keeps emotion buried beneath ice.

The man stops in front of you.

"Asset Helix. Окно вашей миссии закрыто. Вы будете сохранены до следую��его развертывания" [Asset Helix. Your mission window is closed. You will be stored until your next deployment]

You nod. No protest. No hesitation.

The chamber slides open.

Metal bracket hiss from the walls as you step inside. The light above flickers blue. A technician straps your wrists and ankles gently—almost respectfully. You lie back into frame.

A breath leaves your hips. Not from fear. From stillness.

As the freezing mist begins to rise, you stare forward—expression unreadable.

In the last second before your eyes close, a flicker of something dances behind your lids.

A name. A voice. A streetlamp.

Gone.

✪──────•••──────✪

Brooklyn, New York

Ginny stands outside Steve's deployment car, her coat buttoned tight, gloved hands clutching a letter she didn't want to send yet.

The wind tugs at her scarf as she looks up at him.

He smiles softly, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"I won't be long," he says.

Ginny tries to smile, but she's tired of promises that never come true. She steps in and hugs him tight, heart aching in the space left by two ghosts—you and Bucky.

"Just don't make me say goodbye to you too," she whispers into his coat.

He holds her like a brother. Like someone who knows what it is to lose everything and still move forward.

Then he boards the truck

She stands there long after he's done.

Alone.

✪──────•••──────✪

The Valkyrie - 30.000 ft Above the Arctic

Steve grips the controls, his knuckles white. Johann Schmidt—Red Skull—has vanished, pulled into the cosmos by the Tesseract. The plane is going down. Fast.

Steve doesn't panic.

He presses the receiver to his lips, voice calm.

"Peggy... I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance."

And then silence.

✪──────•••──────✪

Within weeks, the world mourns two heroes lost.

Captain America. Sergeant Barnes.

No one speaks of you. Or Black Helix. You have no grave.

Only ice.

And Silence.

✪──────•••──────✪

I have an idea for Loki but I think I'll do that once I'm done with this series. I also didn't expect this to be shorter than the other chapters but the end of this made me really sad when I was writing it out so i guess it makes up for it 😭

✪──────•••──────✪

Tags: @svtbpbts

[olderthannetfic]

Even setting aside the comment spammers on AO3 for a moment: can we stop accusing people of writing with AI without any reason to? I have several ESL friends who've gotten this accusation for clunky word choices or botched grammar and it's really discouraging to them to be compared to a program. It's also completely inaccurate. Sometimes, humans make mistakes. This doesn't mean that my friend Nasrin's hijab is concealing her electronic data processors powered by ChatGPT, it means writing in your second (or fourth, in her case) language is hard and there will be mistakes.

--

Particularly hilarious because bad AI writing rarely resembles non-native language issues.

[vinxhwrites]

note: this is the result of a crazy writing frenzy I was in last night, I went a bit feral over this idea and I don't know where this story is going. Also I spiraled after I read this. anywayyy hope you enjoy this drabble.

pairing: f!reader x price (x ghost - maybe eventually?)

summary: After going to work in the military you develop a weird relationship dynamic with your captain, and soon you find out you're not the only one.

word count: 2.7k

cw: 18+, daddy kink (!), probably inaccurate job descriptions/situations, pet names, a little bit of angst, a little bit of h/c; reader is kind of a crybaby; not proofread;

NEXT

You couldn't explain the story of how you got yourself in this situation if you tried. You were barely able to understand it yourself. Yet, here you were, sobbing in your captain's arms at his office, way past your working hours, calling him daddy and praying that he'd kiss you.

You had a hard day, as it was pretty common nowadays.

You certainly weren't fit for this work environment and you were painfully aware of it. It didn't matter how much you tried you couldn't get past this fact: you were an academic. You weren't used to the discipline, the hierarchy, and the life-engulfing aspects of the military.

When you had accepted the job 8 months prior, it really was the salary that convinced you, if you were being honest about it. You had been living on scholarships most of your adult life and it was getting kind of tiring. A part of you wanted to refuse out of a moral stance, but you didn't.

You were fresh out of a linguistics PhD program at the time, and you excelled as a student and researcher, but your skills were very specific and not that marketable. Your mom was probably right when she tried to dissuade you from dedicating your time to mostly dead and made-up languages, but you were too stubborn to listen at the time, although her greatest concerns were, as usual, well-founded. Needless to say, the opportunity came at the right time.

It seemed urgent and they tested you relentlessly. It was clear to you from the beginning that no one there was thrilled to resort to a civilian linguist. It was fun, though, and you passed the tests as if they were silly little puzzles you do to relax. And you were the only candidate to be able to decently decipher the completely made-up languages and codes that were used in the telegraphs they gave you.

They hired you on an 18-month contract for two different jobs: translating and decrypting intercepted messages for a task force, and also training their own linguists to do what you did. If you were good at it, you wouldn't be needed anymore.

The task force was nice enough, all four of them treated you well and didn't bother you much. At first, it was a bit disconcerting, but by now you've gotten used to how attractive they all were to the point where it almost didn't affect you anymore.

All of them called you birdie. You liked it, it made you feel included to have a little nickname. Soap was the one to come up with it on the second week you were working with them "Some birds know many languages." he had explained, clarifying: "Bird languages, ye know". The original explanation made you smile, but the addition made you blush "Plus, ye're cute like a little birdie"

The training part though wasn't going so well. You were almost 100% sure that all six of the students hated you. It seemed offensive to them to have to sit down and learn anything from you. In the beginning, you did your best to be pleasant, to do the best job you could, and maybe win them over. But at this point, you just wanted to be done with it and never look at any of those people ever again.

They were building a computer program to do your job apart from the classes. You felt offended at first at how they didn't even hide the fact that you would be used and then replaced by a more efficient machine, but you were now praying that they'd get it done as quickly as possible. The program was really good at pattern recognition, but it still wasn't good enough at semantics, and it lacked any nuance of interpretation.

The only thing that made you want to stay a little longer was this thing with Captain Price. It had started innocent enough, he took pity on you when he noticed you struggling with the new environment. He said some kind and assuring words here and there when he noticed how much the students tormented you, and he'd reprehend anyone who dared to disrespect you in front of him.

Eventually, Price casually invited you to work in his office if you wanted to, being away from other people seemed to ease your nerves a bit. He didn't mind, he assured you, it was nice to have some company. More than that, he genuinely found your job fascinating and always asked you to show him how you did it in his free time.

He sometimes brought you tea the afternoons you spent there, he'd accidentally brush his arm against yours, or touch your leg with his knee when you sat beside him. At first, he'd correct the movement, but it evolved to not correcting it, to then doing it intentionally.

They were simple touches, a little pat on your shoulder here, brushing your hair out of your face there, every single one made you shiver. One day he made a comment about how uncomfortable you looked on the chair and pulled your legs to rest on his lap while he worked. That was the first night you allowed yourself to fantasize about him to sleep.

John had a warm and comforting presence, and you were genuinely disappointed when he wasn't around, finding comfort in the fact that he gave you a copy of his office keys, so you could work there even when he wasn't present.

Ghost was there sometimes, seemingly preferring to work from Price's office as well. At first, he seemed to get disconcerted by your presence, probably a bit annoyed that he had to share the space with you, you thought.

He was never rude to you, just awfully quiet, even when it was just the two of you there. He nodded at you when you greeted him, and often sat on the big sofa on the corner or even on the floor. You offered him the desk many times, feeling a bit guilty for taking up so much space, but you noticed he only accepted when he seemed truly tired. Despite the unsettling silence, you thought he was a gentleman.

You first thought that John had somehow hypnotized you when you noticed the subtle ways in which your heart lost its pace whenever he commanded you to do something. He rarely asked without a smile, a polite inclination "dear, will you please file these reports for me?" "can you please grab me a cup of coffee?". He'd only deviate you from your tasks like this when he seemed to be in a bad mood, you noticed. It was never about anything urgent, and it was always when you were clearly already busy. In spite of it, you were never able to say no. He seemed to derive pleasure from bossing you around like that, but you knew he didn't have to remind you of the power he had over you, as it always hovered on your mind. Either way, soon enough you were painfully aware of the fact that you'd do absolutely anything he asked you to.

But you knew, for sure, that you were in trouble when you realized you got aroused anytime he'd compliment your work. Getting his praise started to be a more important goal to you than anything else. Earning a "good girl" was a rare occurrence, but it never failed to make your day.

One day he found you crying, and you couldn't quite explain what it was with words without feeling ridiculous. After what they called a "successful mission" it dawned on you that the information you were extracting out of those telegraphs really was being used to kill people. Those weren't your silly little puzzles.

"Criminals" Soap had corrected you as you tried to articulate your despair, much to your dismay. He wheezed as if your frame of thought was absolutely hilarious. "Shouldn't be here if you'll react like that, birdie" he had said and you wanted to scream.

"You'll get used to it" Gaz had assured you, sending a disapproving look towards Soap.

Later, the more you tried to express your frustration to John the more you cried, sobbing pathetically. It was the first time he hugged you, shielding you from the world around you for a minute.

"You don't understand..." you tried to explain, but you cut the sentence short at his stern look.

"I do understand," he said frowning, keeping his hand firm on your back. He took a deep breath and leaned down a bit to look you in the eyes "Listen, you do a good job, sweetie. You're doing good things, even if it doesn't feel like it sometimes" he assured you.

You nodded and tried to get the crying under control, suddenly aware that you probably looked terrible.

John cupped your face in his hands.

"Why don't you get the rest of the day off and get some rest, huh?" he suggested kindly "come to me if you need to talk."

After that, he got more and more comfortable being physically close to you. It quickly evolved, as you enjoyed being close to him a bit too much. Sometimes he'd squeeze your hand in his when you sat beside him behind his desk very casually and, sometimes, you'd rest your head on his shoulder while he worked. Saying you were in love felt like an understatement, but you'd never make it real by saying it out loud.

You once made a joke in passing about how your dad left you and your family, but he didn't laugh. He tilted his head and looked worried instead. I'm here if you want to talk he said, and it made you want to bury your head in the dirt.

Price called you many things, at first it was dear, sweetie, birdie, love, and finally, he settled with baby.

"what are you doing there, baby?" he just asked casually one day, and you almost gasped, feeling your heart attempt to leave your chest.

Although your relationship with him wasn't sexual in practice, it certainly was sexualized in essence. To you it was, at least. Oedipal if you were to be honest with yourself.

The first time he called himself your daddy it simultaneously broke and healed something in your brain. He chuckled at your reaction, how you looked at him wide-eyed and full of hope, hiding your face on his chest next.

"thank you, sir" you whispered then, pathetically.

You feared at times that your affection to him was one-sided, that he saw comforting you like this as a part of his job, a strange but effective one as well. You wondered if it made you weak, you didn't even try to be brave and deal with things alone anymore, you were aware of how childish it was to knock on his door looking for daddy's embrace at the slightest inconvenience. But you couldn't help it, it was too comforting to give up.

And that's the exact position you were in now. You had a bad day so you came running to him. He was awfully kind to you, as usual, and you prayed that it was a sign of enjoyment, that he actually liked comforting you like this.

You didn't notice when Simon came in. He froze by the door, and the captain just signaled for him to close it. John still had his arm wrapped around you, a hand stroking your hair.

"Shhh, it's ok now" he cooed at you "daddy's here."

Simon watched as you melted in his arms at the words, your breathing easing instantly. Again, you felt as if hypnotized. Your body responded to his words before your mind could catch up with them.

You wanted him even closer, you wanted to curl up on his lap, and have him rock you like a baby. Most of all, you wanted him to kiss you. You craved the touch of his lips on yours and the thought clouded your mind. Just that week you had already masturbated to the thought of him twice. Although you always reprehended yourself afterward, it didn't work to make these thoughts go away.

You rehearsed in your mind the idea of looking up and kissing him but didn't build enough courage to do it. You thought you'd die if he ever rejected you.

"That's it, you're ok," John said when he noticed the pace of your breathing ease, with his cheek pressed to the top of your head "I've got you, baby" he pressed kisses to your hairline. You sniffed, using your sleeve to clean the tears from your cheek.

"Now, be a good girl and go get some sleep," he said and you nodded against his chest, inhaling the warm smell of his shirt and suffering with the upcoming separation already "Ghost will take you to bed".

You raised your head and blinked at him, and that's when you finally noticed the tall figure close to the door, unmoved. You wiped your tears, distressed. For how long had he been there?

"Will you guide her to her room, lieutenant?" John asked him calmly, as if you didn't find yourself in the most embarrassing of situations.

"Yes, sir" Simon responded in the same tone.

The walk back to your room was painfully silent. The corridor around you was dark and empty. Your entire body was tense, and you walked fast trying to keep up with Simon's pace, hoping that he'd just say something and put you out of your angst, but he didn't.

When you finally reached your door, he opened it and waited for you to go inside.

"I'm sorry that you saw that" you blurted out, cheeks flushed pink "I-I don't know what to say. It's really not like that...-"

"It's OK" he interrupted when he noted the despair in your voice. He tilted his head a bit, evaluating your expression "I get it." there was something mischievous in his eyes, and you wondered if he was smiling at you behind the mask.

"Do you?" you asked, your voice was almost a whisper.

He nodded, and you relaxed a bit "I'm sorry you had a shitty day, birdie"

"It's okay"

"Tell me if you need anything." he said before signaling for you to enter your bedroom again, you thanked him quietly and closed the door.

Simon went back to Price's office in hurried steps, letting out a sigh when he entered. He was exhausted.

His captain was seated on the sofa, reports spread on the coffee table in front of him and a cigar put out on the ashtray beside him.

"Come here" John said, his eyes didn't move from the papers in his hands.

Simon took off his boots and mask before curling up on the sofa, resting his head on the captain's legs, and finally taking a deep breath as John started to brush his fingers through his hair.

"Don't know what to do with her" John murmured, more to himself than to start a conversation.

Simon hummed in response, his eyes felt heavy, and he could no longer keep them open.

"She's such a sensitive little thing..." John continued, seemingly lost in thought.

"She's cute" the lieutenant murmured, the drowsiness that flooded his brain making it almost impossible to form a coherent thought.

"Yeah" John chuckled lightly. "Well, don't worry about it." he assured, taking his attention back to petting Simon's hair "How are you?"

"Fine" he purred, getting comfortable on the sofa, even though it was a bit too small for him.

John hummed as he stroked Simon's cheek lightly "my pretty boy"

He watched Simon as he let his eyes rest completely and his body relax, being taken by slumber in a matter of seconds.

John continued to read reports well into the night, only waking Simon up, gently, when he finally decided to get some sleep himself. He accompanied Simon to his bedroom before moving to his own, patting him on the shoulder before sending him to bed. It was easier for Simon to fall asleep on his own then, as it usually was, after he had already been nursed to sleep beforehand.

[mariacallous]

Elon Musk has called Social Security a “Ponzi scheme” rife with fraud, waste, and abuse. President Donald Trump argued in his State of the Union address that there are millions of people over the age of 100 who are fraudulently on the Social Security rolls, with some receiving government benefits. Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) staffers are calling Social Security Administration workers inefficient and threatening to make major reductions in its workforce based on that argument.

The problem with these arguments is none of them are true and represent only the latest in high-level disinformation directed at federal programs. As Elaine Kamarck and I argue in our recent book “Lies That Kill: A Citizen’s Guide to Disinformation,” disinformation has become rampant in many different areas and threatens public understanding of policy issues. False data claims undermine trust in government and weaken confidence in the effectiveness of public programs.

Social Security is not a Ponzi scheme; it is a government program into which people pay while they are working and later retrieve benefits after they reach retirement age. It is a public fund financed by payroll taxes paid both by businesses and employees that funds around 59.6 million people. While the Social Security Trust Fund faces financial shortfalls, increasing the taxable income cap beyond its current $168,600 limit could significantly extend the program’s solvency.

According to Social Security Administration data, about 89,000 people over the age of 100 receive benefits, and nearly all are legitimate recipients. The agency, along with the General Accounting Office, routinely audits beneficiaries to detect fraud and has found no evidence supporting Trump’s claim of millions of dead or fraudulent beneficiaries. Indeed, Wired Magazine reported on February 17 that computer programmers pointed out how the list of extremely old people on the Social Security rolls is the result of “…a weird quirk of the Social Security Administration’s benefits system, which was largely written in COBOL, a 60-year-old programming language that undergirds SSA’s databases as well as systems from many other US government agencies.”

DOGE investigators suggest Social Security staff are inefficient and wasteful, independent analyses showing the agency is among the most cost-effective in processing claims. For example, Professor Pamela Herd of the University of Michigan notes that the agency’s administrative costs have declined “from 2.2% in 1957 to just 0.5% today”, making it one of the federal government’s most efficient agencies.

These attacks are not isolated, as other agencies have also been targeted by false narratives. Shortly before its budget and personnel were massively slashed, Musk called the U.S. Agency for International Development a “criminal organization” without evidence to support that claim. The Consumer Financial Protection Bureau was dismantled on the grounds that it harms corporations and no longer protects consumers, while the Department of Education faces substantial cutbacks with critics arguing it does little to advance public education.

The harsh and often inaccurate rhetoric surrounding federal agencies represents a way to delegitimize government and justify deep cuts in agency operations and staffing. If government enterprises are seen as criminal, unlawful, or engaging in fraudulent actions, it becomes easy to justify draconian measures that dismantle those agencies—highlighting the powerful consequences words have on shaping beliefs and actions related to government functions.

The disinformation risks for Social Security are particularly worrisome. As its former commissioner, Martin O’Malley has argued that inaccurate claims about waste and abuse could lead to wholesale employee layoffs and harm the efficiency of agency operations. That may happen soon. Without persuasive evidence, Musk has claimed in a Fox Business News interview that there is over $500 billion in wasteful spending at the Social Security Administration, and the entitlement program could be reduced without any harm to beneficiaries.

That is not likely to be the case because a shrunken agency with fewer workers will likely suffer problems in claims processing and beneficiary payouts. Without experts who understand its IT systems and payout processes, there could be interruptions in services or difficulties for people filing claims who no longer are able to go to local offices to check on their eligibility.

Right now, Social Security is one of America’s most popular government programs. Eighty percent of Americans in a 2023 Kaiser Family Foundation survey held favorable views about Social Security. Around 40% of seniors rely on it as their sole source of income. For Americans who live in three-generational families, cuts or delays in Social Security payments to seniors could impact their children’s ability to support their grandchildren. Social Security is a government success story that serves both taxpayers and beneficiaries quite well. The spread of disinformation about Social Security threatens not only the program’s future but also the sustainability of numerous other government initiatives.

[steviewashere]

Steddie Fic Recommendations Part 5!

Previous Recommendations: Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

It's Tuesday, which means more gay fics being recommended to all of you, lovely people of Tumblr. There's no theme for this week, but I am seeking your recommendations! If you have a fic you want to recommend, I'd love to hear about it and add it to my recommendation lists.

Also, any Tumblr blogs that may be tagged, feel free to reach out for me to remove the tag. I have no qualms doing so!

As always, the tags and themes vary on all of these fics. Heed all tags, ratings, and archive warnings with caution.

I’m Not Going Anywhere, Sunshine. by heyitsme1040

“Five times Eddie rescues Steve from the lingering effects of the Upside Down. One time Steve asks for help from the lingering effects of the Upside Down.

Five times Eddie helps Steve with: Migraines, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Bullshit, and seeing someone Zoned Out. One time Steve asks Eddie to help with a Thunderstorm.

*Rated Teen and Up for language*”

Chapters: 1/1, WC: 3,290, Rating: Teen and Up no Archive Warnings apply 5 + 1 Things

—————

2. happy by Anonymous

“Whenever Steve flirts with Eddie, it always feels like he’s just doing it to check a box, to fit a script or something. His teasing smiles never reach his eyes, his tone is always just a little flat. It’s a stark contrast from the soft and kind Steve that Eddie has gotten used to.

Eddie thinks at first that maybe Steve is just anxious. He’s a really anxious person, Eddie has learned in the past few months. But it’s not anxiety that Eddie sees in Steve when he gives him his King of Hawkins High routine. It’s nothing. It’s like Steve becomes some sort of robot whenever he flirts with him. Like it’s just a part of his program, not something that makes him happy.”

Chapters: 1/1, WC: 1,982, Rating: Not Rated no Archive Warnings apply

—————

3. make me aware of being alive by bloodscout

“‘So, I’ve found God,’ Eddie announced. It was more than a little inaccurate, but he didn’t know how else to bring up the subject.

‘Oh yeah,’ Jonathan prompted. ‘Where?’

Eddie chuckled. ‘Nah, man, I mean. I want to be more, like, observant, maybe,’ he hedged.

Jonathan raised his eyebrows, playful rather than mocking. ‘Look at you, ba’al teshuva.’

Or: After the end of the world, Eddie starts building his Jewish home, and finds the people he wants to build it with.”

Chapters: 1/1, WC: 5,564, Rating: Teen and Up no Archive Warnings apply Canon Divergence AU Jewish Eddie Munson, my beloved Jewish Byers Family

—————

4. even if you don’t feel it by Civil_Hearing @sapphicsteddie

“‘What do you need, Steve?’ Eddie asks again. It’s firm and soft at the same time.

It’s the first time he’s pushed, first time he’s insisted. First time he’s kept pulling when it’s clear Steve doesn’t want to talk.

‘Can’t say,’ Steve replies, too honest even though he hasn’t given anything away. ‘Eddie, seriously. I can’t.’

The rain pours, heavy and unforgiving, as Eddie considers this non-answer.

‘Say it anyway?’ Eddie pleads.

Steve shakes his head.

How can he ask Eddie to love him?

To hold him and tell him that he’s everything he’s ever wanted, even if he doesn’t fucking mean it?

That’s the worst part: Eddie doesn’t even have to mean it, not tonight.

Steve would take a convincing performance—needs one. Thinks that’s all he’s ever experienced anyway.

Steve wonders if he could ask without having to ask.

He takes a step closer, slowly reaches out.

*

(OR some ridiculously intimate/vulnerable smut following a very angsty depiction of loneliness, penned from the depths of the soul of a chronically yearning lesbian.)”

Chapters: 1/1, WC: 18,230, Rating: Explicit no Archive Warnings apply

[aspd-goose]

TW: RAMCOA(???) Again(???)

Hello! It is I, one of the parts of the host that asked about RAMCOA/Programming!

They forgot to ask something else! (hence my reason of being here)

They were also wondering if RAMCOA means general cult abuse? They said something about other systems saying that they’re RAMCOA survivors who survived cults but aren’t programmed systems?

I’m so dearly sorry if this is phrased weird!

-A Piece

before i start: RAMCOA is a bad term to use from a sociocultural standpoint, period, end of sentence. it is being used to represent conspiracy theories rooted in antisemitism, as well as generally just a defense screen for bad-faith actors to interact with the system community in ways that are derogatory. the recent explosion of RAMCOA has brought a bunch of not-so-great/inaccurate information into CDD spaces under the guise of "my system works like this because i was programmed to have a system!"

which is not how that works. i've got a post in the works that debunks it in detail, but the RAMCOA programming that is so widespread and popular is not possible. most children do not react to trauma with dissociation—an even smaller percentage react with severe dissociative compartmentalization, which is what is required for a child to have the potential to form alters.

tl;dr: the scale required for even one intentionally programmed system to exist would need to be a cult scandal on a scale never seen before. it would need to be international, if not global. since so many survivors are public about their experiences, mainstream media would be covering it. it would be front page news. it's not, because it is not happening

to answer your question, though: yes, cult abuse could fall under the RAMCOA label if the person who experienced it wanted it to. it's important to note that nobody should be assigning this label to anyone, at all. but, more specifically, it would probably be under the ritual abuse/organized abuse parts of the acronym. the systems who are survivors of cults/organized abuse who are not claiming to be programmed into their system generally are just uninformed about the label's origins/community meaning.

RAMCOA as a term describes a mix of valid, real, traumatic experiences, combined with straight roleplaying. it is important to understand that using RAMCOA does not immediately mean someone is faking. the term is not a good one to use, but some people are using it (despite the Jewish members of the community's requests to Not Do That) to describe their real experiences.

tl;dr: programmed systems = not real. RAMCOA = bad label. cult abuse = real & could fall under RAMCOA's definition if someone chose to use the term.

sorry, i rambled. let me know if this is too dense, and i'll rephrase with clearer language. thanks for asking, anon—hope this helps clear up any confusion.

[bugbbear]

i tracked every spell cast in the dnd movie

(yes i am autistic how could you tell)

so first off let's get this straight: i am by no means an expert. i did, however, spend like four hours combing through spells to see which ones fit. these are the best fits i could find.

why did i do this? well because screenrant did and they did a shitty fucking job. they cited spells that dont fucking exist! shame on you! do your fucking homework! also, see previously mentioned autism.

ANYWAY! spell list (in order of appearance) under the cut!

ENCHANTMENTS: (magic items, artifacts, etc)

greater invisibility (kira's amulet)

true resurrection (tablet of awakening)

speak with dead (simon's cleric token)

dimension door (hither thither staff)

antimagic field (helm of disjunction)

SPELLS: (cast by a character)

fog cloud (simon)

chain lightning (sofina)

time stop (sofina)

counterspell (simon)

prestidigitation (sofina)

mold earth (sofina)

prestidigitation [x2] (simon)

blur (simon)

telekinesis (simon)

reverse gravity [x2] (simon)

polymorph (doric)

witch bolt (sofina)

fire bolt [a couple times] (sofina)

misty step (sofina)

fire bolt [a couple more times] (sofina)

green-flame blade (dralas)

command (xenk)

green-flame blade (dralas)

holy weapon (xenk)

prestidigitation (simon)

major image (simon)

evard's black tentacles (sofina)

tidal wave (simon)

meteor swarm (sofina)

shield (simon)

polymorph (doric)

animate objects (sofina)

misty step (sofina)

magic missile (simon)

misty step (sofina)

resilient sphere (sofina)

arcane hand (sofina)

maximilian's earthen grasp (simon)

ill be real. the fight scene that starts at 1:57:22 is fuckin hard. i cannot tell a lot of what sofina casts, i have no idea what spell she uses to disarm holga or what she does to push edgin away (twice). here is what i do know:

SIMON: magic missile, shocking grasp, scorching ray (edited)

SOFINA: gust (getting back up), shield, the spell to push edgin back twice (red curtin like thing), the spell to disarm holga

anyway back to your regularly scheduled program

gust of wind (sofina)

time stop (sofina)

counterspell (simon)

polymorph (doric)

REASONINGS / THINGS I WAS IFFY ABT:

druids can only wildshape twice per short rest. im choosing to believe that doric is just Like That, maybe she's 20th level or something

IN ADDITION, druids can only wildshape into beasts. an owlbear is a monstrosity, hence why i marked that she uses polymorph to be an owlbear.

sorcerers dont get produce flame, so im choosing to believe that when he does the finger flame thing its just prestidigitation

when xenk pulls the cat outta the fish, he could be using dominate beast if he was oath of conquest. since we dont know his subclass imma just say its command and he speaks this fish's language

FINAL THOUGHTS: completely inaccurate. no one used fireball. /j

[maxiel01]

Top Gun Maverick - New Blood

Pairing: eventually Bradley Bradshaw x female reader, Pete Mitchell x female redader (parental figure)

Summary: When Lieutenant Y/N Y/LN is called for a special mission to Top Gun, she doesn´t hesitate a second. After her last deployment, she is longing for friendship and finding a family. Will it happen? Or will she be alone again?

TW: not much yet, potentionally mental health issues, anxiety, panic attacks, angst, inaccurately described military environment

Lenght of this chapter: 1552 words

AN: Hi, this is my first attempt at writing a fic based on a movie. English isn´t my first language, so be aware that there might be some mistakes. Top Gun and Top Gun Maverick are movies that have helped me a lot in the past and I have formed a deep connection with them. I hope that you will like this fic, and of course, any form of constructive criticism is welcome. Happy reading!

Prologue

You were sitting in your small apartment, reading your favorite book. After your last deployment, you finally had some time for yourself. While everyone else went back to their families and loved ones, you were stuck in a small apartment in a quiet neighborhood in California. You weren´t even from the US. Born and raised in a small city and village in Central Europe.

Becoming a fighter pilot was your lifelong dream. When the other girls were playing with dolls, you were rather out playing with cars or running around with your friends playing soldiers. The problem came when you wanted to join a military college. Because you have glasses, the army in your home country didn´t take you into their program. Well, they would take you, but not for a pilot, only for leadership, which wasn´t something you saw yourself doing in the long run. So, you started googling and googling. You spent a few weeks just on the internet, searching for information of other armies and their requirements. And then you finally found something. The US army would take you even with your glasses, if you, of course, would become the US citizen. You contacted a few of the US colleges that could provide you some assistance in that matter and after some more dialogs you found the best solution for you. You immediately moved to the US. The university helped you with everything, and before you put in your application to naval academy, you were ready to take that citizenship test. You graduated from university and took the test. Fortunately, you made it, so you became the US citizen and were able to fill your application to the naval academy. There you were met with another problem, they wouldn´t let you pilot the jets. Because of your glasses, even when you´ve been told beforehand that it would not be a problem. They then changed your course to the weapons system officer one. So, you spend the two years learning how to be the best WSO in the world. It wasn´t easy, you were a girl in a male dominated environment, and you were a foreigner, which some of your fellow students didn´t take very well, but you were finally in the plane. When you were finishing the course, one of the Captains called you into their office. There you´ve been told, that they made some changes in their naval aviators program and that with those changes, you were now fit to complete the fighter pilot course as well. You´ve been thinking about it for a while. It was your dream, but you were already behind your colleagues. After some more thinking, you made your choice. You could become the fighter pilot and after your graduation, you could switch back to the WSO and so forth. So, after your graduation, you immediately enrolled into the other course. You were able to complete it quicker than the others because some of the subjects and courses where the same as the WSO program had, so they let you pass it immediately. After that you graduated your fighter pilot program and now you´ve been able to fly as a pilot and WSO.

A week after your graduation, you were called on a deployment to Iraq. It was your chance to prove yourself. You were flying beside much older and much experienced colleagues which helped you a lot in your growth. You even managed one air kill, but it was mainly because the other guy let you take the shot. It was a success nonetheless. You were switching from WSO and fighter pilot for the whole 6 months you´ve been there. After that you´ve been transferred to Mali. It was much worse than the Iraq mission, you´ve been there for 3 months, but it was definitely the longest three months of your life. They managed to shoot you down once when you were flying as the WSO. It was a scary experience, and you were fortunate enough to not sustain any serious long-lasting injuries. Just a concussion, broken arm, bruised ribs and a lot of bruises. Your pilot had just a concussion which was a miracle. After that, you´ve been bed bound for a month, but you had to stay in Mali nonetheless. You were then helping with strategy and other things. Then after 2 more months you were finally called back home.

You didn´t know what was waiting for you there. As you were looking forward to a little bit of relaxation with your favorite book in hand, a call came. It was an unknown number so you hesitated a bit, if you should pick it up, but after two more rings you picked up the call.

"Hello?" you said uncertainly.

"Am I speaking to Lt. Y/N Y/LN?" came a male voice from inside of the phone.

"Yes, this is she. Can I help you?" you asked.

"This is Adm. Bates, I need to talk to you about your next mission, Lieutenant." came the voice again.

"I´m sorry sir, yes of course, what do you have for me sir?" you asked immediately, feeling embarrassed that you weren´t more polite before.

"You´ve been called to Top Gun for a special mission. I´m not able to tell you more now, you will get all the information when you make your way here. A base house is ready for you near the base in Miramar. You are to report to the base in the next three days. You´ve been requested by non-other than Admiral Kazansky. Do you have any questions?" he said quickly.

"No, sir, I don´t have any questions." you said with a straight voice.

"Okay, that´s all for now, I will see you, when you make your way to Miramar. Goodbye." he said, and you just returned the farewell.

"What the hell." You said to yourself and sat on the bed. You were thinking about the call. What kind of mission is that? You were supposed to have a month or two off, so this was something you definitely didn’t see coming, but it was probably important, because you had only three days to get to Miramar. “Thank god, I didn’t take upon the offer of the vacation in Italy.” You said to yourself with a sight. Oh yes, you and another girl from your squadron in Iraq made plans to go on a vacation together after your deployment, unfortunately she has been transferred to another one before the first ended, so she wouldn’t make it, and you weren’t really looking forward to go back to Europe alone.

Of course, you could probably visit your family back home, but you haven’t spoken to them in a long time. They weren’t very happy with your move to the US in the first place, and the contact since then was very brief. You didn’t blame them though, it must have been rough, the only daughter leaving country to become a fighter pilot. They would rather have you home and be a teacher or a doctor or something.

Since you basically didn’t have anywhere to go, you decided that you will just spend the time off in your apartment and maybe do some local trips. Well, that was all out of the window now, wasn’t it. As you were still thinking about everything, you started to pack your things. You took the two military bags you had from Mali, which still weren’t properly washed as you arrived just two days ago, and put all the clothes and boots in the washing machine. Then it hit you. You didn’t have the proper clothes for the mission. Your flight suit and helmet were out of question after they shot you down, and you didn’t receive the formal clothes since starting your deployment in Iraq. They said something about how in desert you wouldn’t need them and that they will sort it out later. But then came Mali, and now you were supposed to come to the base in Miramar and you didn’t have anything to wear. You considered calling back Admiral Bates but then decided against it, it would be weird calling an admiral about clothes, right? But before you could think about it more, a notification from your phone distracted you. You took your phone out of the pocket and read the message.

“Don’t worry about your clothes. We’ve been told and are working on it. It should be ready just for your start on the mission.” Came from another unknown number.

That at least put you more at ease, they knew about the clothes and were fixing it. After the washing was done, you took it out to dry. Meanwhile, you started googling any buses that would take you from LA, where you were currently living, to Miramar. It would take you about 5 hours, so you made a plan on leaving the next day. After all, better to be safe than sorry, right? With that in mind, you packed everything that you would need for the foreseeable future. They didn’t tell you for how long this mission is gonna be, and you are not taking any chances. You completed your packing around 11PM. Then you quickly showered and made your way to bed. After a lot of tossing and turning, you finally managed to fall asleep.