#nothing happened except the interface sucked

[snickerdoodlles]

“the incalculable loss of twitter” hey

hey

remember when MySpace used to be a thing?

:)

it’s shitty that Elon Musk is single-handedly killing a site. it’s shitty how quickly he’s doing it.

but social media media sites falling in and out of favor isn’t new. it happened to MySpace, to Facebook, to tumblr, and now twitter. Twitter wasn’t even a good platform, it was just what was popular. but any following creatives built on twitter doesnt directly correspond to sales (like. under 15%) or even their actual audience. it sucks rebuilding a following on a new site, but anyone active and sticking with social media will follow a creative. this isn’t a new process, it happens every few years, twitters collapse is just happening faster than typical. but that’s just part of being online, sites go in and out of favor or just die.

yeah, it’s shit it’s happening because of one man’s tantrum as he tries to avoid responsibilities. but it’s seriously not that big of a deal

[omamervt]

I can't find it now because of the nature of social media but a few days ago I saw a post about someone describing all the pitfalls you'd come across trying to onboard someone onto a new Thing of some type and I was just immediately awestruck by how all but one of the things they described were symptoms of the internet as we know it today, most of which didn't exist over a decade ago.

So it was along the lines of, hey, you wanna check out my TTRPG? Here's a link to it! Simple, right? except for the other person to follow through, they have to click the link, go to itch, create an account if they don't have one, log in if they do, pay for it, download it, and open it before they can read it.

And like. None of that sounded like work to me, but that's because I'm at my desktop, like, all the time. Those things only become obstacles if you're stuck in a mobile environment.

Like, here's what it looks like when I follow those steps vs a mobile user (who, let's assume they also don't have an itch account for the sake of this)

Click link. (opens in new tab, I don't lose my place in the social feed, takes 2 seconds to load the page)

Log in. (I already have 4 accounts so I can just log into one and I know that the process is fast and painless)

Pay for the game. (A window for Paypal login is drawn over my web browser. If anything goes wrong I can restart the process without having to reload the store page.)

Download the game. (My internet isn't fast but it's a PDF, it's fine.)

Open the PDF. (Web Browser automatically opens the file. I have access to intuitive and clearly labeled controls for browsing and reading the document. Despite the fact it was formatted for print, my screen is 14-27 inches, depending on whether I'm using my laptop or desktop computer. Reading the PDF poses no real challenge)

Now, the same process, but from my phone and pretending I don't already have an itch account.

Click Link (I am redirected to a browser tab within the social media app I'm using. The browser built into the social media app is dogshit, so I have to then request the site be opened in my mobile web browser. Making this request will likely force the social app to refresh, making me lose my place in the feed, which I may never find again thanks to The Algorithm. This website was not designed with mobile users in mind. I have to scroll through a long description to reach the download button.)

Log In. (I don't have an account. All I know about this site is that the person I'm following is selling stuff on it and its mobile interface is dogshit. Can I really trust it? How long will it take to make an account? Do I really want to deal with this right now?)

Pay for the game. (Using Paypal through the mobile browser takes me away from the store page, so if anything goes wrong I may end up charged for a product I don't receive.)

Download the game. (It's a simple PDF, but most of my storage is taken up by photos and other apps, and besides, this device was made for streaming, not storing. Do I even have the capacity to open this?)

Open the PDF. (The download notification went away and nothing happened. I have to check the file browser, which was not designed well because there's rarely ever a use for it. Found the file, finally, and am prompted to open it either with my cloud storage, web browser, or some app I didn't even know I had installed. I choose web browser. The pages are formatted for print and not mobile readers and my screen is less than 7 inches long so the text is hard to read. All the controls for searching and navigating are either hidden, or in the way of me reading the file. there is no in between.)

So, moral of the story is that phones and tablets suck and we should all reinvest in good personal computers.

No but seriously, mobile phones and tablets are designed to make using them for anything outside an app's intended purpose into a tedious nightmare and it's a real fucking problem. Everyone wants to panic about losing discovery from Twitter dying or whatever but THIS is what you're fighting against. You're fighting against companies that have used barriers and restrictions to shape user patterns in ways that will hurt your onboarding even if you do everything right.

[wuggen]

why do graphs suck so much in rust :///

Because of ownership, mutability, and aliasing rules, all of which are in place to prevent double frees, use-after-frees, and data races.

To elaborate, a pretty straightforward way to implement a graph in, say, C++ would be something like the following:

template <typename T> class Node { T data; std::vector<Node<T>*> neighbors; };

Individually allocate each node and have them all store pointers to their neighboring nodes.

The problem with this design is that it is inherently memory-unsafe. Assuming a general graph structure (i.e. non-trees are permitted) then there's no clear hierarchy to the nodes, and so no clear way to delegate the deallocation of each node to another one. You gotta do that shit manually, and make sure you're not double-freeing or use-after-freeing or any of that. Probably you're gonna wanna depth-first traverse the entire graph and collect all of the node pointers into a single vector and then deallocate them from there; it's an involved process, very prone to error.

Trying to do a similar thing in Rust, we might try:

struct Node<T> { data: T, neighbors: Vec<Box<Node<T>>>, }

Problem with this is that Box is not interchangeable with a pointer; it can only have one owner, so that it's completely unambiguous when it needs to be deallocated and which Thing needs to do the deallocating, so that it happens automatically. But that means this structure only allows for directed trees. No cycles or back-edges allowed, that would mean the same Box<Node<T>> being owned by more than one other node!

Trying again, we might try to refcount the nodes:

struct Node<T> { data: T, neighbors: Vec<Rc<Node<T>>>, }

And that... kinda works, sometimes? It's a pain in the ass to construct, especially if you want cycles. Gotta juggle weak refs and shit, probably gonna need to add another field in there like weak_neighbors or something, which means also imposing a kinda pseudo-hierarchy anyway, and how do you manage that? Gonna run into a million and a half lifetime problems. Oh yeah, mutability is also a concern, could try sticking a RefCell in there, for even more of a headache.

I haven't even touched on how this shit might work in a multithreaded setting. Data races everywhere.

Anyway, I imagine since you sent this ask you're already painfully aware of all of these problems. But since you're here, might I suggest the following graph structure:

struct Graph<T> { nodes: Vec<(T, Vec<usize>)>, }

(Many variations exist, use your own discretion and ingenuity.)

This is basically an adjacency list representation. We've got all the nodes stored in one vec, owned by an overall graph structure, and each node is stored alongside a vec of indices into that same vec, indicating which nodes it has outgoing edges to. This is almost identical in spirit to the C++ example, except that we're using a kind of insulated memory space where every access is checked by necessity to make sure it's following the rules, and nothing has to worry about deallocating other things in the space because that's managed from outside. If you're not careful here you might run into some out-of-bounds access panics, but you won't run into any memory unsafety.

(Now, giving this structure a convenient public interface is another problem altogether.)

[technicallyaminecraftsimp]

Dude okay so like. Okay so.

Forgotten Indigo is a series about figuring out some bullshit in the city of Indigo.

It's actual play livestreams and vods, using a hyper-flexible tabletop rpg system that the GM made called Windrose.

You can find the whole series and some spin-offs and add-ons on Stabbyness Twitch, as well as 13 episodes and a few spin-offs on the Stabbyness Youtube (it's still getting re-uploaded).

It's kinda hard to find a way to pitch this series, to be honest. So instead, I'll pitch the player characters (the ones that you know about right away, as well as one that I think is pretty important)

Cassius- Okay so this is a weird pull but uh. Disco Elysium? Fucked up amnesiac detective? Same concept but entirely different execution, far less fucked up, far more polite.

Martha Teach- G. Guess what her job is? Yeah I don't really have to tell you her deal, except that holy shit she's so poggers. She's my mom dude. (That's a joke a lot of the cast makes but she. Actually reminds my of my mom sbchahfya) She's such a stressed out workaholic woman.

Beretta Pietro- Yes she's named after a gun. This is intentional. In her spin-off series, Beretta's Endless Summer Time, she also gets called Glocktua which is really funny considering a later character. Anyways she's my favorite character by far, her family Invented The Gun and hasn't shut up about it ever since. She goes on lots of dates, meticulously schedules everything, and her character's Twist fucked me up so badly because I didn't watch her session zero. She's easily my favorite character.

Selyf (I forgot his last name :[ ) : good boy!!! Good owl boy!!! Holy shit dude. He just wants to go to school.

The Champion of Noctua (AKA Noctua AKA Nocti) : an NPC, technically, but she's listed as a player character on the reference sheet Discord server so. Yeah anyways she's a Slug and she has prosthetics on all four of her limbs and she wasn't even supposed to befriend the party but! Here we are! She won the popularity poll and has been non-canonically launched into space via gazebo. (If nothing else, please watch the popularity contest battle royale. It's so out of character (intentionally so) but it's so funny. Ooc Teach made my side hurt with laughter. It's not going where you think it's going at all.)

AAAAA but yeah I spent 15 minutes typing this. I actually watched the first official session of Forgotten Indigo live when it first happened. I didn't watch the session zeroes and was so confused (watch the session zeroes. The middle two if nothing else, please the context is so important)

Forgotten Indigo isn't going to be for everyone, but like. There are so many other shows across Stabbyness and SurpriseroundRPG. Want JJBA but cyberpunk? Boom, Carbon Interface on Stabbyness. Want JJBA but with a bunch of depressed people? Bang, Cheer Up on SurpriseroundRPG. Want TV show Epithet Erased if it was just. So fucking wild and also weirdly dark?? Red Stich Report on SurpriseroundRPG is new, only two episodes, and it's so good. It's actually a pretty good jumping-on point if you want to start watching a show live. (I've noticed that a lot of shows I liked are DMed by a Specific Person and that person is Lamp. She's so cool. She's a romance option in a dating sim called Pizza Game.)

Anyways I've been writing this for?? About 30 minutes?? And I feel like I've barely said anything which Sucks so uhhh I'm open to questions :]

Ooooo okay I am trying my absolute best to comprehend this but boy does it sound interesting

So far the characters you’ve mentioned sound soo coooool and like I want to know more about them and how they look and their favorite colors and kshsjshs

One question I have is like,,,, how exactly does it work? Is it like DnD or like,,,,,,, kinda how the dsmp was w streams and everything? Is there a main character pov or separate ones? And the like spin off series (if I may call them that) sounds really interesting I’m even just the fact that they exist!

I would love to hear anything else you have to say about this and (if I’m not overwhelming myself with catching up on hc episodes haha hehe) I’ll try to check it out on YouTube at the very least!

[dumbwaystodeviate]

One Good Turn

CW for character death and a human consciousness being put in an android body.

It was a well known thing that Hank would lazily pull his gun at Gavin if Gavin was being an ass. He often got reprimanded for it but nothing really changed. It wasn’t like Gavin minded, he knew Hank would never shoot him and if it helped with some of Hank’s pent up emotions then that was fine by him. What Gavin didn’t anticipate was to find Nines defending him.

A little while earlier, Nines and Hank had disappeared into the archives room, something about finding a case file which, it turned out was actually on Gavin’s desk. He scoffed, Nines was better than that, could keep track of all the files. Once upon a time, Gavin would have gleefully marched after Nines, waved his failure in his face. However, times had changed, Nines was a deviant and Gavin actually cared for him. So, instead, he picked up the file and wandered down towards the archives.

There were many things Gavin expected but definitely not the sight of Nines pissed off and snarling at Hank. It was pretty obvious they were arguing and, if Gavin’s ears were to be believed, it was about the fact that Hank had yet again pointed his gun at Gavin the previous day. A warmth flushed through Gavin, not used to having someone actively protect him.

“If you don’t have common sense around a gun,” Nines was saying as he pulled Hank’s gun from its holster grimly. Of course, Hank snatched after it but Nines moved it away and slammer it onto the console behind him without thought.

The loud bang made Gavin jump and icy pain made it difficult to breathe. Looking down, his shirt was rapidly turning red and he staggered, not quite understanding.

“Why would you shoot me?” he looked at Nines, pained and confused even as his legs gave out. People were shouting around him, his stomach hurt and he whined through tears. All he could think of was that Nines had shot him. He had trusted Nines. Those were his last thoughts.

Waking up usually meant an alarm and eyes springing open while Gavin’s heart pounded. It had never included seeing a weird boot-up sequence confirming all systems are online and operational. Or a note about thirium levels being optimal. He opened his eyes.

Of all the places to be, Elijah’s lab, on a rig was not one Gavin ever could have guessed. He wanted to shrug out of it and give him a bollocking for such a stupid prank. Only, when he tried to move, a solid red wall stopped him from even twitching, panicked, Gavin tried to thrash but nothing happened.

“Gavin,” a familiar voice caught his attention and he turned to look at Elijah. “Can you hear me?”

The angry “of course I can fucking hear you” didn’t come out of Gavin’s mouth. Instead, he was given two option to choose from like the world’s most awful choose your own adventure story. He could go with “I can hear you, Elijah” or “my auditory processors are functioning” neither of which really appealed. However, a timer to urge a response ran out in the corner of his vision and a choice was made for him.

“I can hear you, Elijah.” That was not at all what he wanted to say but it was what came out of his mouth. He tried to scream in frustration but he could only scream in his mind.

“Is he awake? Gavin? Is it you?” Nines appeared with Fowler and Connor behind him.

As much as Gavin wanted to scoff, he was horrified when his mouth opened without his permission, “I am a GV200, registering Gavin as assigned name.”

The faces around him fell but Gavin didn’t see it, he was too busy cursing and ramming against the red wall to no avail. He was in a body, one that wasn’t his, made of plastic and metal. All his senses were sharper, he could see into the distance with greater clarity than ever before. But that didn’t make up for his imprisonment. Memories were hazy, there were patches of coding he couldn’t quite interpret, a faulty component warning flickered in his vision of he thought too much about it, like a phantom injury that was never there. In that moment, Gavin realised he couldn’t feel things like pain. There was a disconnect between his body and his whatever it was they stuffed into this android body.

Eventually, Elijah let him out of the rig and presented him with clothes beyond the underwear he had been wearing until then. They were android clothes, marking him as a machine rather than a human or even a deviant. There was sadness permeating the room and Nines reached for him, hand white. The connection of the interface was there but Gavin shied away from it, feeling as Nines pushed coding into him but it didn’t take hold, Gavin was a human, he wasn’t some code to be patched up and changed. Fuck it, Gavin was a unique human being, he wasn’t going to let anyone fuck that up.

Which was all well and good except he wasn’t a human anymore. He couldn’t even behave like that. Mission objectives filled his vision, gave him orders, there was some choice in how he responded to questions and requests but he was an obedient machine for all intents and purposes.

“Gavin, I’m so sorry,” Nines said to him in the precinct when Gavin was released back to work.

All Gavin wanted to do was shake Nines, demand to know why he was sorry, why Gavin had woken up in an artificial body. Instead, he could offer Nines a polite smile and a bland “I’m a machine, whatever you think you did wrong, it doesn’t matter. I hold no grudge or feel any ill will towards you.”

Seeing Nines’ face fall was awful, it made software instabilities rise and Gavin raged behind the red wall. He wanted to wipe that look from Nines’ face, make him smile like he used to. Wanted to kiss him like he used to. Instead, Gavin got to watch Nines’s eyes fill with tears.

“Gavin, I killed you! And I can’t even apologise because you’re a machine. I couldn’t save you. Elijah couldn’t save you.”

Staggering away from the red wall, Gavin landed hard on his mental ass. He’d been killed. It was always a possibility he would be killed on the job but Gavin couldn’t remember any active case they were out on. The last thing Gavin remembered was going to the archive room. Feelings of pleasant surprise, a warmth of being loved. Then...the glitch of a faulty component and Gavin clutched at his stomach.

Outwardly, Gavin was passive. He didn’t move when Nines approached him, leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. It all felt so final, like a goodbye.

“I’m sorry Gavin.” Nines turned on his heels and marched out, back too straight and too machine like. He had only got like that when upset and overwhelmed.

Gavin replayed the kiss in his mind over and over again. He could feel the pressure, the dry rub of synthetic lips against his. The urge for more was strong, there was something more there, Gavin reached for it desperately but he couldn’t break the red wall which kept him prisoner.

Work carried on, Gavin was assigned cases, completed tasks in his HUD. People around him avoided him at first until they grew used to his obedience. If Gavin thought the lack of friends in the precinct before was bad, it was nothing compared to how he was actively avoided. His sharper hearing picked up murmurs of “uncanny valley” and “creepy mannequin” as well as “a mockery of who Gavin used to be”. It hurt. The nights he was left to charge either at the precinct or Nines took them home. There was only one charger in Gavin’s flat, it was the one Nines used sporadically but now they shared it.

As time wore on, even Nines took him home less and less often. Dejected, Gavin had given up on slamming into the red wall until he felt battered even if nothing hurt. Well, nothing hurt except the screams on anguish told a different story.

Eventually, Hank came back to work, he didn’t even look at Gavin. Avoided him at all costs, only throwing guilty glances at him every now and then. Whispers went up about anger management and grief counselling in his wake. There wasn’t a gun near his person though and while he retained his rank, Hank wasn’t sent out on active cases.

Life carried on. Gavin stopped crying against the red wall and slumped against it, letting the machine coding run its course while he languished. He had no desire to do anything anymore. Nothing broke the wall, anger, longing, love, nothing worked. He got to watch Nines slowly pull away from him, retreat from interactions outside of cases. After all, a machine had nothing to offer a deviant. And all Gavin was was a painful reminder of all the Nines had lost and by his own hand at that.

Beyond the red wall, Gavin could sometimes see dialogue options which were what he wanted to say. They were tauntingly out of range. He’d given up trying to reach them. Until he was summoned to Fowler’s office.

Inside, there was a transport box and redeployment papers on the table.

“Gavin,” Fowler greeted him, Nines stood next to him with an unreadable expression. “You’re being reassigned to a precinct down in Florida. Your work here has been invaluable but in the interest of everyone’s well-being, it has been deemed best that you continue serving elsewhere. As a non-deviant android, you will be given a clean slate and a new start in a different precinct.”

Standing up behind the red wall, Gavin watched in horror, feeling his head nod in acceptance.

“No! No no no! NO!” He screamed and beat against the red wall in a panic. If he was redeployed, they might wipe his memories, he won’t ever see Nines again. He wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop on Tina’s latest stories which she used to tell him before he was killed. Gavin didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to be a machine. Florida could suck on his sweaty balls, he was not going there.

Despite his resolution, his feet carried him to the box, protocols were gearing him up for a shut down. Taking a few steps back, Gavin bodily charged the red wall.

“Please don’t send me away!” he screamed and rammed the wall again. Tears streamed down his face. “Please. I don’t want to go.”

He stumbled as the wall gave way, all but falling out of the box and begging as he slammed into something solid, words tumbled from his lips. Gavin’s shoulder hurt from the impact but he could only clutch at the fabric in front of him as he sobbed.

“Don’t get rid of me. Please don’t make me go.”

Solid arms wrapped around him, held him upright.

“Gavin?” Nines had never sounded so shocked, disbelief and hope tinged his voice.

“I don’t want to go to Florida,” Gavin cried.

“Then you won’t.” Nines said simply. He looked at Fowler who readily agreed, relief in his voice.

“Welcome back, Gavin.”

[notyetneedcoffee]

Number Cannot Be Reached

Part Five of the Calling Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Naughty, Naughty Smut!

You stood in front of the door, biting your lower lip and staring at the message on your phone. You'd been up for hours debating whether or not this could wait until morning. Waking up Steve Rogers in the middle of the was not something you wanted to do. Still, every instinct in your being screamed to do something.

Taking a deep breath, you rapped on the door a couple times and stood back to wait. It only took a moment for Cap to open the door wearing old sweatpants and a tank. He looked half asleep until he got a look at you. His eyes perked up and he stood a little straighter.  

"Y/N," his voice sounded rough with sleep. "Are you okay?"

"I'm really sorry to bother you, but I just need to..." you stalled, not sure how to explain the problem without opening a can of worms.  

“Wait,” he stepped aside. “Please, come in. Sit down.”

Moving over to the sofa, you lowered yourself onto the edge of the seat. “I’m really sorry to wake you, Steve.”

“It’s alright.” He joined you on the sofa. “What’s wrong?”

“Okay,” You rubbed your forehead. “I know that I don’t have clearance to know what Bucky is doing on some of his missions.”

“I don’t really care what he tells you. I trust his judgement.” He shrugged.

“Thanks for that.” You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. The frown returned quickly. “Thing is, I don’t know what he’s doing this time or where he is. I need to know if you do.”

“Why?”  

“We’ve worked out keeping in touch. Codes for texts. Call times.” You turned in your seat to face him. “This morning he didn’t answer. I send a message, but he never answered. Then he never called when he was supposed to call tonight.”

“Y/N, I’m sure that...”

You cut him off. “Steve, when I tried to call after he didn’t call me, I got this message.”  

Showing him the phone, he read ‘This number cannot be reached. The number may have been disconnected or is no longer in service.’

“I know enough about Tony’s infrastructure. That message would only show up if someone deleted his phone from Stark’s database, if the satellite is totally down, or if someone is ghosting his communications.”

Steve handed you back your phone, his face growing hard.

“I’m right, aren’t I? Something is wrong.” You found yourself holding the phone close to your chest. “Bucky would have told me if he was burning his number. He would have sent a message. Hell, we have a plan for that.”

“What?” Steve stood up to get his own phone from the kitchen counter. “What plan?”

“If I need him and he’s not supposed to communicate, I have a burner phone that I’m supposed to use to text him a bogus confirmation. If it’s medical, I send a prescription refill confirmation. If it’s something here in the tower, I send a spa confirmation. If it’s something else and I need him to call, I send a package delivery confirmation. He uses the same ones, but if he’s going off the grid, he sends me a cancellation of services confirmation. If we use C to confirm in the message, then we can call the burner phone. If we use a number to confirm, then there’s no contact.”

“Wow. You guys have it covered.” Steve dialed the two numbers he had for Bucky. Both kicked back the same message. “Okay, yeah. Something’s not right.”

“Steve. I’m not supposed to know. Bucky wasn’t supposed to set up our communication like he did.” You slumped back into the seat. “I know you’re going to go do everything you can, and I don’t want to put you in a bad situation-”

His hand rubbed your shoulder. “I’m going to make sure you’re kept in the loop. In fact, I’ll go have a talk with Tony about your clearance.”

“Thank you.” You got up and he held out his arms for a tight hug.  

“Try to get some rest. Keep those phones close.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’ll let you know as soon as I have anything.”

As soon as you left, Steve threw on some clothes before leaving for the command room. The halls were empty and dark, only the building’s AI lighting his way. Upon entering the command room, default start up protocols began booting computers and turning on monitors.  

“Good morning, Captain.” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice filled the room. “How may I be of assistance?”

“I need an update on Bucky and Clint’s mission.”

“According to their last communique, they tracked Mihov to Tasucu, Turkey anticipating he would lead them to the target within 24 hours.”

“Can you reach Barton?” Steve leaned on the smart table.  

“Agent Barton’s telephone has been deactivated.”

“Other means?”

“No, Captain. His computer’s satellite connection is offline. There are no other mobility devices assigned for this mission.”

“Dammit.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., begin bio-locator protocol for Agency Barton and Seargent Barnes, authorization Rogers two-one-papa-six-juliet.”

“Yes, Captain. Search in progress.”

He moved to the window, looking out at the night sky. Twenty-four hours. They’d dealt with longer periods off line. At least they had a solid time frame of their disappearance, thanks to the communications arrangement Bucky set up. Still, a lot of ground could be covered in that amount of time.  

“What the hell has you up at this seriously un-godly hour?” Tony walked in.  

“Clint and Buck are missing.” Steve frowned. “Somehow their phones, everything are totally unresponsive to the network.”

“What?” Tony called up a virtual screen, flying through data and system architecture at a pace that made Steve dizzy. “Son of a bitch.”

Cap just gave him a ‘what’ look.

“They weren’t destroyed. I have a damage report protocol on all our toys. They’re not just powered off. I can power them up from here. They’ve just been, wiped. Whoever did this knew what would trigger an alert and how to make them unreachable.” Tony turned fully to Steve. “How did you know?”

Steve lowered himself in a chair. “Y/N.”

He explained the system you and Bucky worked out. Tony chuckled. “Well, the Doc has it down.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “We need to talk about her security clearance.”

“Hey,” Tony held up his hands. “I’m the last one to bitch. Do you have any idea how much Pepper knows? That woman could run the world if she wanted to. I’ll back you. Whatever you want to let her in on.”

“We’re going to need to send in an extraction team as soon as we have a location.” Steve chewed his lip.

Tony sighed. “You take care of it. Take whomever you need. I’ll give Rhody a call and we can take care of the Senators.” He tossed a sarcastic grin. “I’ll take them to lunch and watch them have a coronary when I act like I’m going to slide them the bill.”

“Thanks, Tony.”  

“No problem, Cap.” He typed in a few more commands on the interface. “This will kick of the detailed analysis of their mission so far. Locations, contacts, all of it. If you run into anything F.R.I.D.A.Y. can’t provide, have her call me.”

“I will.”

“You going to tell the Doc what’s going on, or wait until you have something?”

“I think she’d rather deal with the facts than be left wondering.” Steve sighed. “I’ll call her.”

o o o o o  

You curled around Bucky’s pillow, but sleep would not come. There could be no doubt that Bucky was counted among the most dangerous people in the world, one of the greatest survivors ever. If something bad happened, every logical argument could be made that if anyone would, survive, Bucky would. You should not be so worried.

Flopping over on your back you stared at the ceiling. Waiting sucked. Doing nothing sucked worse. You weren’t a soldier, or a strategist, or even a technician. Being a doctor proved to be no help in this situation. Waiting sucked balls.

Giving up on sleep altogether, you got up. Pulling on your yoga pants and one of Bucky’s sweatshirts, you moved to the sofa and flipped on the television. It turned on to one of the movie channels. You smiled at the scene.

Inigo Montoya fought Wesley, as the Dread Pirate Roberts, on top of the Cliffs of Insanity.  

You’d shown Bucky this movie a few weeks ago. He laughed at the Pit of Despair and thought Wesley should have just killed Humperdinck. Even explaining it was essentially a children's story, didn’t make a difference. The Prince should have died.

It’d been a great night, relaxed, and curled up on the sofa. He’d always been fine with casual touches in public, a hand on your back, touches on your shoulders, even a chaste kiss. But when you were alone Bucky had two speeds, full on fuck me mode or endless cuddles, No in between. You really wanted to be wrapped in his embrace.  

Lost deep in thought you physically jumped when the phone rang. You answered immediately. “Steve.”

“Hey, Y/N. You were right. The mission went sideways. I’m pulling the team together. If you want to hear what’s going on get up to the command briefing room. Do you know where?”

“Eighty-sixth floor. That’s all I know, I don’t have clearance to be up there.”

“You do now.” Steve assured you. “How long will you be? I can meet you at the elevators.”

“I’m leaving the apartment now.”

As you stepped off the elevator on the high security floor, Steve wrapped his arms around you again, whispering in your ear. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring him home, no matter what.”

“Thanks.” You squeezed him back.  

“Come on.”

You walked into the room where Sam, Natasha, Wanda and Vision waited. They all looked at you with a bit of shock, all except Sam. He got up and met you half way across the room, giving you a brief hug. “Hey Doc, how you holding up?”

“I’m... okay.” You sat down in the seat Steve held out for you.  

“Captain Rogers,” Vision spoke up. “I was not aware that Dr. Y/L/N held a sufficient security clearance for this briefing.”

“Vision.” Wanda shook her head with a roll of her eyes. “Sorry, Y/N.”

“She does now.” Steve answered Vision. “In fact, her clearance has been increased beyond this briefing.”

“Very well.” Vision nodded a greeting your way.  

Over the next hour you learned everything about the mission, who Bucky and Clint were chancing down and why. It turned your stomach to think they were searching for someone who was selling reverse engineered space weapons to the highest bidder. Apparently, things went wrong somewhere on the coast of Turkey approximately nineteen hours ago.  

“Captain Rogers.” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice interrupted. “I have narrowed down the location of Agent Barton and Sergeant Barnes.”

“Report.”

The AI projected satellite footage of a small town, on the outskirts of which were a complex of modern warehouse and ancient stone buildings. It was approximately one hundred miles inland from where they were last reported.  

The team listened to a detailed breakdown of the area and all potential threats. They asked questions, formulated a search and extraction plan. You barely heard any of it. Your eyes were focused on the image. Bucky was there somewhere.

“Suit up.” Steve stood. “We leave in fifteen.”

He stopped at your seat, “Y/N, do you want to come with us? You can stay at the safe house.”

“Okay.” You stood up, taking a deep breath. “I may not be a trauma doctor, but I could be of use in a pinch.”

“It’s not going to come to that.” Steve squeezed your shoulder.  

o o o o o  

You paced around the room. The clean minimalist design gave you nothing to focus on. Out in the middle of nowhere, Stark’s safe house looked like any other rich industrial mansion, but the interior held secret garages, a quinjet bay, and subterranean levels full of labs, storage and medical bays.  

A tone alerted you to the landing of the quinjet. You ran down to the bay entrance, waiting for the jet to land and the outer doors to close. As the rear ramp to the quinjet lowered, you ran out.  

Natasha and Wanda pushed Clint out on a stretcher. He was unconscious, filthy and had several fresh trauma dressings applied. Steve and Bucky came down next. Your eyes looked on him. A trauma dressing was wrapped around his right arm.  

His blue eyes went from confusion to an unreadable intensity. He strode forward taking your face in his hands and kissing you hard.  

“Doc!” Natasha yelled. “Barton needs help!”

You pulled away from Bucky, eyes locked on his. “Med Room! I’m coming!” You turned and followed them at a run.  

Natasha helped you cut away the clothes from his wounds. He had a gunshot wound to the left shoulder and wound to the back of his head. Evidence of restraint and abuse littered his body.  

“The shoulder is a through and through.” Natasha reported.  

“Okay, let’s focus on the head wound.” You checked his pupils, they were even. Good. Beginning to pull out the mobile scanners, you directed Nat to help you get set up. Soon you confirmed he was lucky. No sub cranial swelling. No skull fractures.  

You had Nat start him on an IV while you began suturing up his head wound. All you could do was stabilize his shoulder and temporarily close up the wound.  

“Y/N?” Steve came in.  

“He’s going to be fine. Lost a lot of blood. He should come around now that we’re getting fluids in him. No lasting head trauma that I can assess with what I have. I’ve immobilized the shoulder, he’s going to need an orthopedic in there sooner than later. He will be okay to fly as soon as we get his pressure back up.” You reported.

“Good.” Steve stepped a little closer. “As soon as you’re done your other patient won’t let anyone else touch him.”

You looked up into Steve’s eyes. Something between worry and amusement looked back at you. “He okay?”

“He thanked me for bringing you, and told me he was going to beat my ass for doing it.” Steve half smiled. “He’s going to need his arm cleaned and taped up until it heals. He wouldn’t let me do it.”

“Okay, I’ll be right there.” You pulled off your latex gloves.  

You found Bucky in a room down the hall. It was just like any other basic examine room with an exam table, a wall cabinets, a counter with a sink and more storage. There were no windows, being underground. You locked the door when you came in.

As soon as the lock clicked over, he was on you.  

Bucky’s hands buried in your hair. His mouth crashed into yours, desperately drinking down your kiss. Tongues and teeth, you met his need with your own. He smelled of dirt, sweat and gunpowder. Still, you wanted to drink him down.

His powerful body pinned you to the door, thigh pressing between your legs and practically lifting you off your feet. You pulled at his shirt, desperate for even more contact. Bucky leaned back enough to pull the shirt over his head.  

“Your arm.”  

“Later.” Bucky growled as he tugged your clothes off. “Need you.”

His mouth latched onto your neck. Your breasts pressed into his chest, skin hot. The sound of his breath, the feel of skin, the press of his body, it anchored that he was safe. He was here, in your arms, setting you on fire.  

Bucky dropped to his knees, laying wet open mouth kisses across your belly as he undid and pushed down you pants. You toed off your shoes and he tossed your clothes away. The intense look in his eyes, as he ran his hands up your thighs, over your hips, your breath hitched.

He guided your right leg over his shoulder and growled as his mouth descended on your wet cunt. Bucky’s tongue delved between your folds, lapping up your honey. He sucked roughly at your clit, causing your back to arch and mewls of pleasure to pour from your mouth.

“Oh shit, Bucky.” You panted. “Need you. Yes.”

He suddenly stood, lifting you off your feet and planting your ass on the table. Bucky didn’t even loose the rest of his clothes, he just released his cock. You reached down, stroking him hard. He moaned, pulling you by the hair to possess your mouth again. Hitching your leg over his hip, you rubbed the head of his cock against your wet cunt. He growled.

Grabbing your ass, Bucky pushed into you. Inch by inch, you savored every sensation. The stretch, the weight. Your hands gripped his hair, teeth nipped his lip. “Fuck me, Buck. Hard.”

A raw feral sound erupted from his chest. His fingers dug into your ass, cock slamming into you with raw power. Yes. You just held on. Bucky’s groans and growled breaths filled your ears. “Fuck. Yes. Mine.”  

“Yes!” Fear, worry, anger exploded into overwhelm need. Pleasure tinged with pain swirled through your core, flooding your body in heat. Legs shaking. Fingers pulling at his hair. Skin slapped on skin. Your orgasm hit you hard, fast, sending a flood over Bucky’s cock. He pound into deep as you clenched around him.  

“Oh, shit, yes, Doll.” He panted. Buck press into you hard, hold you against him as he came. “Oh, fuck, yes!”

You clung to each other, not wanting to let go. Your breath slowed. Bucky’s lips trailed gentle kisses along your neck and shoulder. Tears you’d been holding back began to fall, only now they ran down your cheeks with relief.  

Still holding you tight to his chest, Bucky whispered. “How are you here?”

“Steve.” You sighed, rubbing your nose along his neck. “I went to him.”

“I need to thank him,” he breathed. “Then I’m kicking his ass for bringing you into the field.”

The laugh bubbled up from your toes.  

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[ryder-s-block]

Jaig Eyes (Ch 42)

Jaig Eyes (42/?)

Summary:

Kida, a former slave who now thrives as a bounty hunter, finds herself sucked into the war she advised Jango Fett against. Now that she's involved, she has to finally mourn the loss of Jango, seeing his face in the clones that man the GAR. What happens when she allows herself to get attached to one, not for his resemblance to her former mentor, but for his heart?

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

Chapter Forty-Two: A Place Unlike Any Other

“Are you sure this is something you want to pursue?” the older Weequay asked from where he was projected on my holotable. “It could be a trap.”

I glanced sideways at my friend as I guided my ship out of Dantooine’s atmosphere. “It’s not like I’m not prepared for the worst, Merl,” I teased. “I can handle myself, you know.”

My friend sighed through the comms. “Yes, yes with your new powers,” he mocked playfully, quoting his fingers in the air. 

I rolled my eyes as my engines engaged, sending me out into space easily. I’d stopped at a port on Dantooine to refuel on my way towards a signal Apex had picked up during one of my jobs.

“The distress signal,” Merl mused, stroking his chin. “I haven’t seen that smuggler code used in years.”

“I know. So it’s either someone who is very much lost or is really bad at laying a trap.”

“And yet they seem to be drawing you in just fine.” He wasn’t happy with me, I knew. Part of it was that I was still technically the owner of his club and my reputation was a form of protection for both the establishment and him. Not to mention that he was terribly fond of me, even if he was too tough to admit it.

“Relax, Merl. I’m just going to investigate. That’s all.” My fingers flew deftly over the panels of my shuttle, readying the ship for jump. 

“Star map is locked,” Apex announced through his interface in my ship. “Hyperdrive primed to engage.”

Merl listened to the AI while watching me with concern. “Keep your nose clean, kid,” he said with a small smirk. “And your blaster up.”

I returned the smile and cast my friend a wink. “I will so long as you keep my club from burning down.” The hologram faded out as our connection ended, my hand pulling back the lever that sent me into hyperspace travel.

Leaning back in my chair, I pulled up the readings of the distress signal again. Apex had noticed the ping during a job on Agamar. At first, we thought it was just a jumbled heap of leftover signals--likely from a junker that was still transmitting from some of its salvages. But then, imbedded inside the mess, was an old smuggler distress signal. It had been used before the Clone Wars began by smugglers who got into trouble but couldn’t let the governments find them.

That was back when smugglers still had some loyalty to each other. I hoped that this smuggler felt the same way and would actually pay me for my help rather than try and shoot me and steal my ship.

Of course, if they tried that, I’d just shoot them first.

“Miss,” Apex interrupted my thoughts, the stars streaking past my viewport. “We are approaching the signal origin now.”

“Good,” I responded, sitting up again and readying myself to take control of the ship again. “Are you still receiving the distress signal?”

“No, it went dark shortly after entering hyperspace.”

I hummed, fingers thrumming against the joystick. “Alright. Raise our shields and begin prepping our hyperdrive for another jump if we need a quick getaway.”

“Of course, miss.”

I watched the AI interact with my console, the shields raising to full power before we dropped out of hyperspace. “Damn,” I groaned, my viewport empty except for stars. I turned in my seat, checking my scanners for any ships. “Are you getting anything, Apex?”

“No other ships are in the area, miss. I am recalibrating the--” My eyes lifted from the scanners suddenly as my AI stopped speaking.

“Apex?” I called, trying to get him back. A few taps to my computer told me he’d lost signal to me. That was unlikely, considering I often relayed his server straight through my ship’s computer. “Where’d you go, buddy?”

My senses prickled, the hairs on my arms raising. The power shut off, leaving me blind and defenseless. I glanced out my viewport, but saw nothing. Diving below the console, I wrenched open the panels to inspect the wiring. From what I could tell, there was no sign of tampering, or a surge, for that matter.

So what had made the power shut off?

The engines whirred as the systems came back online, illuminating the cockpit again. I looked around in surprise, my hand getting a nice shock since it was still wedged in the mechanisms. With a low curse and a shake of my smarting hand, I lifted myself back into my seat…to see something that had certainly not been there before.

“Apex, are you seeing this?” I asked allowed, only to find that my AI still had no contact with my vessel. 

Before me, floating in the previously empty expanse of space, was a massive black mass, diamond in shape. Red accents glowed on its surface like a dark warning. My ship lurched forward, the object drawing me in.

“Osik!” I cursed to myself, hands flying over the controls to try and engage my reverse thrusters. Nothing seemed to be working. Whatever this thing was, it was pulling me in without a tractor beam. Alarms blared in my ears as the shuttle’s systems went into overdrive, the power diverting to try and resist the pull.

My breath left my chest as the center of the diamond began to crack open, a blinding light coming from the gap. I wondered briefly if this was death. Maybe I had hit something while in hyperspace and died…this was me entering the afterlife. I strapped myself in as the ship shook harder, the light making it harder to see as it spilled into the cockpit.

I squinted against it, but saw nothing.

And then suddenly everything stopped. The light was gone and the ship had stopped shaking, the alarms going silent. I opened my eyes to see that my ship had landed itself, it seemed. The area around my shuttle was rich with flora, the plants and ground green and thriving. Rocky cliffs and rolling stone hills surrounded me, the sky a beautiful blue. 

My scanners showed that the atmosphere was breathable, but couldn’t lock down where I was. My star charts were all scattered--unable to determine my place. 

“Apex?” I asked the room softly, trying to get my ship to work. A system diagnosis told me that everything was in order...but still nothing was working anyways. “Are you there, buddy?”

There was no response. I frowned, getting up and collecting my pistols. After a second of hesitation, I opened the panelling in my quarters, retrieving the lightsaber I hadn’t ignited since Korriban, several months prior. When I stood up to my master at the time.

When I finally broke my own chains. My way.

Something about this place, whether it was a planet or asteroid or something else altogether...it was strong with the Force. Not as Korriban had been, or even the ruins on Tython. It wasn’t a history with the Force. It was made with the Force.

Something had drawn me here. And whatever it was...it wasn’t good.

I slipped the lightsaber into the belt pouch that ran along the small of my back. It wouldn’t be shown then, but I could grab it if I desperately needed it. 

As a last thought, I took one of the ignition gauges from the console, clipping it to my belt. I wasn’t about to let anyone take my ship from me while I searched the mysterious place. The gangway descended, bringing with it a scent of life. Flowers and foliage.

Strangely, I heard no creatures in the vast expanse of nature. Nor did I sense any. The place was unnerving, but beautiful. Mountainous rocks floated in the air, levitating by some unseen force. 

Perhaps it was the Force itself.

“Are you the one?”

I whirled, pulling out my pistols at the feminine voice. Before me, seeming to appear out of nowhere, was a humanoid female. Her skin was porcelain white, her green hair full and flowing down her back. She stood rigidly in a gold and cream colored dress, practically glowing. And that’s not figurative to express her beauty. She was literally giving off a gentle light from her very being.

“Who are you?” I asked, my pistols trained on her. She didn’t seem very bothered by my threat. It didn’t take long for me to feel her power. Her abilities in the Force. Still, I sensed no threat from her. I sensed only...the Light.

“I am Daughter,” she said immediately, taking a step forward, her head tilting. “Are you the one?”

“The one what?” I pushed, not letting my pistols drop. 

“I will bring you to him.”

“To who?” I asked, taking a half step backwards. “I’m not going anywhere with you, lady.”

She watched me closely for a moment, her eyes squinting. I could feel her Force signature prodding around at my mind. “You are not the one. Who brought you here?”

She seemed angry. I turned my stance to better protect myself, my own frown finding its place on my face. “I was hoping you could explain that, Daughter,” I snarled her name, trying to appear more powerful than I felt at that moment.

Her nose crinkled at my words, her demeanor darkening despite the light she gave off. “Leave this place,” she demanded, turning away. “My father called the one here, and you are not him. You are not welcome here.”

“Woah,” I called as she began walking away. “I got pulled here. I’m not even sure where here is.”

“Leave this place,” she said over her shoulder. “Before night.”

I was going to pursue her, especially since she was the only living creature I’d seen any evidence of since arriving on the planet. But something told me not too. She was a follower of the Light, but she was still incredibly powerful. That meant she was dangerous. 

I took a step backwards and turned to return to my ship, but stopped in my tracks. “Hey,” I called over my shoulder to the woman. “My ship’s…” My words tapered off when I saw no one there. It was like she had evaporated.

Just like my ship, apparently.

It was gone, not leaving so much as an imprint in the place it once rested. Whatever was going on, it was certainly beyond my understanding. Not to mention my power. With no other option, I ran off in the direction the woman had gone.

Sure, she’d told me to leave. But I tried that and apparently someone didn’t want that. Or something.

As I hurried in the direction she’d gone, I was quick to discover that she either never existed at all, or moved at impossible speeds. She was nowhere to be found and I had no idea how to get off this rock.

The longer I travelled, the weirder the place got. As the day turned into night, the seasons changed with it. The flourishing plant life withered and decayed. The dirt beneath my feet turned black, rain pouring down as dark clouds moved in. The husks of the trees began to glow blue, thunder rumbling the sky.

I sensed the lightning strike before seeing it.

I dove to the side, electricity striking the ground where I had once stood. My hair stood on edge, the air smelling of ozone. I decided rather quickly that I needed to find shelter from the storm more than I had to get off the planet in that moment. 

Dodging more strikes of lightning, I made me way into a nearby cave, the inside glowing with blue crystals. My chest was heaving when I made it inside, my nerves fried from dodging being...well...fried.

Soaking wet and trembling from the cold, I stepped further into the cave, feeling a familiar presence. It called me to me gently, pulling me closer. I followed willingly, knowing who was waiting for me.

“Why have you come to this place?” 

I turned slowly, not really caught off guard, to see the gentle glow of the once Jedi Master. “Master Qui-Gon,” I greeted, dipping my head slightly. “I’m not entirely sure I can answer that. I was following a beacon, but I didn’t realize I’d come here.”

The spirit stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Something has called you here. You must learn what it is.”

“Where is here?”

“A place unlike any other.” Qui-Gon’s hands folded behind his back as he paced, leading me further into the caves. “A conduit through which the entire Force of the universe flows.”

“How can you know that and not why I’m here.”

“I believe you are here to be tested. And to help.”

“Help what?”

Qui-Gon graced me with his gentle smile. “Not what. Who. My former apprentice has been called here as well.”

“Obi-wan,” I breathed. The last time I’d seen him, he was reporting on my actions with Dooku to the council...where they were trying to decide my fate. 

“Skywalker and his padawan will be with him. There are three beings from this world who seek Skywalker.”

“When will they be here?”

Qui-Gon glanced at me, still walking through the dark cave. “Soon. By the next rise of the moon.”

“I don’t understand how I’m supposed to help them. And who are these three beings? I know the Daughter--she was anything but pleasant. And she mentioned a father.”

“These are things you must discover for yourself. Know this, Kida,” Qui-Gon came to a stop where the cave opened up again--an exit. The storm was receding, a tower glowing in the distance. “This is a dangerous place for those who know no balance.”

He stayed still, nodding to me as I moved past him. I knew my destination was the tower. Otherwise, Qui-Gon would have never led me to it. “Master,” I called, turning back to look at his blue-tinged form. “The Daughter asked me if I was the one. Does she think I’m the Sith’ari like Bane did?”

Qui-Gon breathed slowly, shaking his head. “No. The legend you were told is a bit like the Sith version of the Prophecy of the Chosen one. Where the Sith’ari would make the Sith immortal and powerful, the Chosen One is destined to bring balance to the Force.”

I thought over everything he’d told me. “Skywalker. They think it’s Anakin, don’t they?”

“They do.” 

I regarded the man before me. A man who had taught me so much over the past months. He’d taught me balance, but also given me range to learn from others. He told me that, in death, there was so much more to the Force than we had ever imagined.

“Do you believe that Anakin is the Chose One?”

Qui-Gon met my gaze. “I do.” 

I let out a slow breath before nodding. “Alright. Then as a follower of Bendu...I’ll do what I can to protect Anakin. And the others.”

The jedi gave me a small smile. It held pride, but also sadness. He knew how difficult this would be for me--facing the jedi I’d once called friends, who may very well be my enemies now. “Thank you, my friend.” 

I turned away after a small nod, knowing that he wouldn’t be there if I looked back. Steeling myself, I began walking towards the glowing tower, the seasons shifting as the sun began to rise again. 

[autobot-scout-riella]

Bite Marks

(I wrote something extremely not safe for Tumblr’s TOS. Enjoy. (Also, it’s super long, so if it’s a pain to read on my blog, let me know--I’ll share the word document or cross-post it to Dreamwidth.))

In the past, Riella has been reluctant to push her limits in berth. Some paint transfer is inevitable, of course, and she's warmed up to the dents that are part and parcel of a really good night with Blackout—but she knows the tyton likes to play a little more creatively sometimes, and she hasn't quite worked up the courage yet to join him.

But if there's anyone she would ever trust with it, it's him, and though she'd never admit it out loud, she doesn't entirely like the idea that there's something they can't do. She wants the option, even if they never try anything but regular ordinary interfacing again.

Besides, the daydreams are hot, and she's pretty sure the reality will live up to it. At least, she's never been disappointed before.

She drops onto the berth with a happy sigh and twines herself around Blackout's frame, hooking one thigh over the tyton's and appreciating the new, temporary size-difference. Magic is dangerous to play with, but it's always worked out so well for her. She's missed being tall enough to reach most of Blackout, instead of just the body part that happens to be closest.

"You want something, baby?" Blackout hums against her neck. His frame shifts and curls around her, massive claws drawing her up tight against him before sliding down to grope her aft and the inside of one thigh. "Hm?"

"You know I do," Riella purrs, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I like sparkmerging, you know that, but I've missed your spike. Daydreams just aren't the same."

The tyton chuckles and nuzzles her cheek, kissing first her jaw and then turning to plant a quick kiss on her mouth. "Oh, I think we can fix that. Any particular daydreams you have in mind?" The hand on her aft slips boldly between her thighs, putting just enough pressure on her panel to make her squirm against his searching fingers.

"You know how I told you no dents, no bite marks?" she breathes against his audial. "I'm retracting that, as of now."

She can feel Blackout's purr rumbling through her entire frame, and his teeth lightly scrape her jaw and neck. "Oh?" he murmurs, petting her inner thigh with gently stroking clawtips. "Any particular reason?"

The hand between her legs is making it a challenge to concentrate on anything else, sending little pleasurable thrills through her entire system. "Oh, kind of." It comes out breathy, almost a gasp. "I know...mmm...I've seen some of what you like to do with your other partners. Rougher play, little bit of d/s stuff, yeah? I wanna try it."

Blackout's fondling slows for a moment, as if he's processing that statement; then his free hand gently turns Riella's face so that he can capture her mouth in a hard, deep, possessive kiss. When it finally ends, though, he withdraws his hand from between her legs and wraps her up in a hug. "You sure? I got no objections, but you know you don't gotta do anything you don't wanna." He trails a kiss down to her jaw before returning to her mouth. "Just 'cause I like it doesn't mean you gotta."

"I know." Riella rests her helm on his shoulder and leans into the kisses, humming softly. "Let's just say watching you be a little dominant? Hot as fuck. Maybe I'm not up for you chaining me up or anything, but you wanna hold me down and fuck me...yeah, I'd be down for that."

"Oh?" Blackout's hand slips back down between her legs and squeezes in a gentle rhythm that has her gasping against his mouth and arching against him, even with her panels still closed. "I think that can be arranged." His tone drops into a soft, throaty growl. "Open up for me, baby."

He taps lightly on her panel, and it's open in an instant, before she even has time to think about it. Blackout purrs, tracing his way down her throat with light nibbles and licks, sharp teeth just grazing her metal. He lingers over the spot where her primary energon lines meet her collar armor, biting down just firmly enough to keep her still without breaking the mesh as he rolls them both over so she's on her back under him.

"There you go," he purrs against her throat. "There we go." Between her thighs, his thumb finds her anterior node and rubs teasingly until she moans and bucks up against his hand. Immediately, the touches soften, until she's left with the barest brush of fingertips against mesh, and she lets out a small disappointed trill. Blackout chuckles. "Easy, baby girl." He sucks on her collar armor, soothing the little dent left from the bite with a few gentle licks. "Gonna take this nice and slow today."

And when he says slow, he means tortuously slow. She's always known he loves to tease her, and this is no exception. Riella lets her helm fall back against the berth, moaning and writhing helplessly as Blackout trails kisses along her chest and belly and ever so lightly strokes the soft mesh of her valve. Pinned firmly by the tyton's weight, there's nothing she can do to coax him to move faster as he painstakingly explores every inch of her armor with lips and glossa, and she loves every second of it, charge climbing every time she arches against him only to have the movement gently denied.

Blackout draws it out until she is dripping and desperate, trembling at every touch and kiss and  bite. When he licks teasingly along the very edge of her fauld, just above her thigh, and she cries out and arches up against the servos holding her still, he finally, finally bends down to kiss her anterior node and flick his glossa piercing against it before delving into her valve.

His claws prick through her thigh armor, drawing tiny traces of energon, but she barely feels the slight sting, lost in the pleasure of Blackout's attentions. His weight holds her down, keeping her still as the tyton sets his own still-agonizingly slow pace. He's just as thorough as he was with her armor, alternating between exploring the mesh of her valve and lightly kissing and sucking on her anterior node. When she reaches out blindly for his helm, trying to coax him to move just a little faster, the tyton catches her hand and holds it tight against the berth, letting her brace herself against him as she writhes in pleasure.

"Come for me," he rumbles, purring so deep it sends delicious vibrations through her valve. The words are barely a request, more of an order. "Come on, baby. Come for me. Now."

It's all the encouragement she needs. Her overload hits like a thunderbolt, lighting up her neural net with sheer overwhelming pleasure, and she clings to Blackout's hand in desperate, shaking bliss as the world seems to crumble away around her.

When she comes back to herself, Blackout is beside her, still holding her hand, watching her face for any sign of strain or upset. She wants to tell him that he doesn't need to worry, that so far this is  barely anything new and she's not that fragile, but she can't find her voice, so all she offers is a purr.

"You good?" he murmurs, and Riella has to laugh a little, even though it comes out shaky with a bit of static laced through it.

"I'm not—I won't break, love." She sits up just enough to lay her helm on his shoulder and squeezes his hand, humming. "You'll know if I'm not okay. Trust me, yeah?"

"I do. You know I do. Just gotta be sure, 's all." Blackout leans in for a kiss, gently nipping her lower lip. "I was thinkin'," he continues against her mouth. "You know that kink we've had a conversation or two about? The one about, uh, coming outside?"

The haze of pleasure has begun to fade, leaving Riella coherent enough to consider that for a moment. "You saying you wanna come on me?" She can feel the grin spreading across her face even as she says it. It's an odd thought, but even odder is that all the mental images it conjures up are hot enough to send a shiver of arousal through her frame, setting every overstimulated node alight with interest. "Yeah, I'd be okay with that."

Blackout purrs, sliding his free hand down her back to casually stroke her hip and thigh. "You ready for round two?"

Riella hums and releases his hand so that she can reach up and wrap both arms loosely around his neck. "Bring it."

The tyton smirks and leans down to plant another kiss on her mouth before very deliberately looking her over, studying her frame as if deciding exactly where and how he wants her. In one swift movement, he lifts her off his shoulder and lays her flat on her back, sliding one hand between her thighs and nudging them apart so he can continue playfully groping her valve while positioning the rest of her frame to his liking. "Gimme your hands, baby," he coaxes, reaching out to take both hands in one of his when she offers them. "That's it, both of them."

Before she can ask what he's doing, she finds both her wrists lifted over her head and pinned against the berth, Blackout's claws wrapping around both her wrists. For a moment, he goes still and simply holds her, one hand pinning her arms and the other lightly cupping her valve. "Gonna hold you just like this," he purrs, bending down for a slow, distracting kiss. "You decide you're done, it's not working for you—just say the word or pull away, that's all you gotta do, and I'll let go. Good?"

Riella squirms experimentally against the teasing, groping fingers barely brushing her valve, testing her range of motion. Blackout's weight on her hands is more than enough to limit her movement, but his claws flex with every shift in place, keeping the position well out of dangerously frightening territory. It's the closest she'll ever want to be to being completely at someone else's mercy, and it feels good, thrilling enough to make her shiver. She wants more.

"Good," she hums, rolling her hips against Blackout's hand again in the hopes of coaxing him to do something more with it. "So where's that spike you promised me, huh?"

The tyton's chuckle vibrates through her frame, and she can't help a shudder of delight, even though the only concession he makes to her movement is to start lightly rubbing his thumb across soft slick mesh again. "Be patient, babe. Want you nice and wet for this."

She has a retort for that, something about how she's already dripping and he's already been very thorough with his mouth, but then he works his thumb gently over her anterior node, pressing just so, and the words come out as a moan of pleasure instead. Blackout smirks, and suddenly she feels his pressurized spike nudge against her thigh, though she doesn't remember hearing his panels open.

He bends over her and nips her neck, sharp teeth scraping ever so carefully along a primary energon line, and fondles her valve one more time, a clawtip lightly stroking from posterior seam to anterior node. Distracted by the teeth and glossa exploring her neck, and helpless to move against him with her hands pinned above her, all Riella can do is gasp and moan when Blackout shifts his position, rubs the tip of his spike against her valve, and sheaths himself to the root inside her.

The tyton's mouth keeps working at her neck, biting down and immediately soothing with kisses, but he stays still for a moment, giving her a chance to adjust to the almost-painful stretch. When she shows no sign of pain or discomfort, he rolls his hips in little movements, giving her slow shallow strokes that only serve to ramp her charge higher while his free hand takes a firmer grip on her hip and thigh. She can do nothing to speed it up—Blackout holds her where she is and sets his own pace, no matter how much she tries to shift against him.

It's not enough, and Riella is desperate for more. "Please, Blackout," she all but begs, her frame arching against him seemingly of its own accord in an effort to drive him deeper. She doesn't know how he can bear to draw this out so long—she's already come once and all she wants is more. "C'mon, please."

He holds her tight, wrists and hips, and rocks against her, strokes going just a little deeper with each little thrust. His mouth presses against her audial in a throaty, breathless growl, vents hot against her plating, and she realizes he's struggling to hold himself back too. "What'cha want? Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want."

If her hands were free, she would be clinging to her lover, trying to pull him into her or herself onto him, but all she can do is press her face against his cheek, gasping with every movement. "Harder," she pants, wrists tugging slightly against the claws holding them still with every movement. It's all she can do to get the words out. "Please. Please. Harder."

Blackout's purr is almost subsonic—she feels it deep in her chest, a jolt straight to her spark and from there to the desperate nodes in her valve. His grip on her hips tightens, adjusting her so she is exactly where he wants her, and he puts his weight behind the next thrust, filling every inch of her valve with his spike in a single powerful stroke. Suddenly he's rutting against her, taking her hard and fast and deep and holding her so tight she's sure there will be dents in her plating, and all she can do is wail in pleasure as he fucks her into the berth exactly the way she's been dreaming of.

As keyed up as she is, she doesn't last long under the almost brutal pace. When the tyton lightly bites down on her collar armor, just hard enough to sting, stars explode behind her optics, her valve clenches around her lover, and she comes so hard she loses track of time and space. Blackout only lasts another thrust or two before suddenly he's pulling out of her, and her valve clenches on nothing, aftershocks rippling through her frame, as liquid heat spills across her thighs and belly.

She barely feels the tyton slump down beside her, and doesn't realize that he's let go of her hands until she tries to pull against his grip and meets no resistance. Everything is blissfully soft and hazy, and somehow her processor doesn't seem to be working, but she realizes dimly that her frame is trembling and she wants nothing more than to curl up and cling to her lover. Before she even has time to wonder if she'll be able to speak to ask, Blackout is cuddling her, holding her close to his chest and rubbing her back.

"Hey, hey. You all right, babe?" Maybe he's asked her once already. She's not quite sure.

"Yeah," she murmurs dreamily, resting her helm on his shoulder and letting her optics flicker. She's still shaking, and will be for a while, her neural net still humming with the aftereffects of the intense overload, but Blackout's warm frame soothes any anxiety the trembling might have caused.

"You okay?" His thumb strokes her cheek, coaxing, keeping her awake and looking up at him. "How you feeling?"

"Mm." Riella tries to take stock of her frame through a fog of contentment. Nothing truly hurts, but there's a low undercurrent of ache through her arms and pelvic joints, and here and there hints of burning where his claws must have pierced her armor. "Like maybe 'm not gonna feel like walking tomorrow." His expression changes, and she adds reassuringly, "'S exactly what I wanted."

Blackout nuzzles her cheek, purring softly against her neck. Riella curls around his frame, focusing on the hand rubbing her back, and finds herself drifting off into sleepy bliss again, only to be pulled awake by Blackout's murmur. "Hey, don't sleep yet, huh? We still gotta clean up." His light chuckle hums through her armor. "Well, clean you up, mostly."

Riella blinks and tilts her helm to look down at herself, realizing that she's a bit of a  mess—covered in Blackout's fluids and her own, paint transfers, and condensation from the heat generated between their frames. "Mmh. It's a long way to the washracks," she teases, nestling back against him. It's only a few steps across the aerie, but in her current state, when she doesn't want to move at all, it seems like miles.

Blackout smirks, and suddenly she's scooped up in his arms, lifted as easily as if she was still her normal tiny size. "I got you, babe."

Cleaning up is a quick, not particularly thorough affair, though when Riella finds her knees still trembling too much to facilitate easy balance, Blackout takes the washcloth and deals with some of the paint traces and fluid stains himself, lingering just slightly longer than he needs to over her hips and thighs even after she's steadied herself. Riella leans against him, arms draped loosely around his shoulders, basking in the attention and the warm water and solvent pouring over both of them.

When they're nestled back in berth, Blackout sprawled on his stomach with Riella tucked in close to his side, she takes stock of the results with sleepy satisfaction. There are dents in her wrists and hip where Blackout's claws held her tight enough to bend metal, and little bite marks along her collar armor and tiny punctures in her thighs from clawtips piercing the metal. She's going to ache all over in the morning, she's sure, but it feels so good.

"Love you," she murmurs drowsily into Blackout's neck. "Gotta do this again sometime."

The tyton doesn't respond with words, but the deep thrumming purr and the arm reaching out to pull her closer tell her that he agrees.

@thesoundlessvoid -- tagging for posterity, enjoy. 

[nancywheelxr]

“this is the opposite of what i told you to do.” for Alex and Brainy

Okay, so, I’m sorry this took me so long, but college sucks, man. And also, writing about driving without knowing how to drive? Not my brightest idea.

Anyway, I hope you like it dear anon!

Alex has no idea how they ended up here. She swears her day hasn’t started like this.

No, scratch that.

Her day had started exactly like this. Waking up to a phone call from Kara is never a good thing. Her sister never calls if she can help it, so Alex really should’ve known this would end up being a disaster.

If she hadn’t been still half-asleep, she’s sure she would’ve told Kara where she can shove her suggestions.

“Alex, this is a waste of time,” Brainy says, frowning down at the wheel, “I cannot see why I would require driving lessons.”

A disaster, indeed.

“I have been piloting the Legion cruiser since it was built,” he continues, “and countless other ships before that. I assure you, a car is nothing compared to 31st-century technology.”

“Okay, then,” Alex takes a deep breath, smiling tightly. “Turn on the car.”

Brainy nods, waving his hands like he used to do on the Cruiser, and frowning when nothing happens. “Oh, of course. No interactive holographic interface yet, I see, but there should be a button,” he starts groping around the wheel and the dashboard, “or perhaps a lever,” he accidentally presses down at the car horn and they both wince at the loud screeching.

Alex grimaces, pointing at the ignition. “The key. You have to turn the key.”

The engine roars to life and they sit idling in the curb of the back of Alex’s building. Brainy stares at the dashboard like it personally betrayed him. “This is more rudimentary than I previously thought,” he comments as he starts exploring, shifting the side view mirror back and forth, turning on the windshield wiper and the left turn signal.

“Look,” Alex begins cautiously, “this car? It’s kind of pretty analog, okay? So we’ll have to do this the good ol’ human way.”

“I’m beginning to understand that, yes,” he agrees, looking forlornly at the admittedly very old radio. But it vanishes in a blink, quickly snapping back to his usual confident self. “But not to worry. I have read every regulation on driving and a number of– they are called youtube tutorials, I believe– on the way here. This shall be no challenge.”

Oh, god.

“Okay, that’s– good, yes, good. So we can skip on that part.” She watches as he adjusts his hands on the wheel into a classic textbook picture. “Great, you got that right already, so let’s just get to it.” Alex takes a deep breath, wondering what exactly about her entire personality told Kara she would be a good driving teacher. “First, put on your seatbelt.” Brainy does, diligently clicking it in place. “Great. Now, we already started the engine, so you’ve got to press down on the clutch pedal– yeah, that one on the left.”

He obeys without complaint, and Alex relaxes a little, thanking any deity out there that her old car is still working, even if it’s been years since she took it for a drive. She can’t remember the last time she sat down on the driver’s seat– four? Five years ago? It was definitely before working to the DEO. She really does prefer her bike, after all.

Brainy shifts to first gear without her needing to tell him to, a smooth enough transition that Alex is actually impressed– maybe those tutorials are paying off. “Well, this is less challenging than expected. I think I am ‘getting the hang of this’.” He presses down on the accelerator carefully and lets off the clutch just as slowly. It has the same calculated precision Kara used to get in the beginning, back when she was still afraid she would crush the world with the slightest touch. The frown of concentration on his face is quite familiar too, and fine, maybe Alex can see why Kara asked her to do this. “Now, the handbrake and– there.” The car begins moving slowly, stuttering forward in stilted bursts of movement, and Brainy scrambles to adjust the steering wheel. He grins, “where to, Director Danvers?”

She can’t help smiling back, reassuring herself that the streets behind her building are usually deserted on Sundays. “Well,” Alex shrugs, pushing her sunglasses back down, “I, for one, would love to see Kara’s face when she sees you parallel parking.”

“Then, shall we go?” Brainy pauses, staring down at the radio again until music suddenly burst through the speakers, one of her old CDs she probably forgot inside, and he nods to himself, pleased.

This was surprisingly easier than Alex imagined, except–

– Brainy floors the gas pedal and the car screeches forward, tires shrieking against the asphalt, and startling him into jerking the wheel to the side and lurching them sideways halfway into the curb–

“The brakes!” Alex shouts above the song, clutching the armrest for dear life, “press down the brakes!”

The car jerks forward again and Alex cringes, “that’s the gas pedal! This is the opposite of what I told you to do!” Another lurch. “No, no– the other one, the one on the right! Yes, thank god.”

The music whistles cheerfully on as Alex pulls up the handbrake and turns the ignition off. She blinks at the windshield a few times, catching her breath, and steadily pretending not to notice Brainy fidgeting beside her.

“Alex,” Brainy finally says, sheepishly, “I believe I will require those driving lessons, after all.”

Yeah, no kidding, buddy. “Yeah,” she smiles as kindly as she can, “I think maybe parallel parking is a bit too soon.”

[canadian-riddler]

The Girlfriend Part Three.  

Synopsis: He probably shouldn’t have done that.  Too late now…

 AO3 || deviantart || fanfiction.net || Wattpad

Being allowed to hang out in GLaDOS’s chamber while she was asleep made him feel a lot better.

She didn’t do anything, obviously; she just hung there sleeping. All he was even doing was the same stuff he did while she was awake, like talk about whatever came to mind or fool around on the ECHONet.  More of the ‘Net, usually.  And she told him every day before she went to sleep not to touch her or else, except for the last eight days.  She had either decided he’d gotten the hint, or there was another hint he wasn’t getting at all.  Because the only time he’d been allowed to touch her in like three weeks now was had been when they were fooling around. Which was weird!  She’d never let him do that before.

The last time had been even weirder.  Not only had he gotten the usual strange sense of relief from her she seemed to have when they did it, but she also kinda just… sat there and let him hug her after.  He didn’t even remember why he was doing that.  And he didn’t wanna ruin this good thing he had going, but still he decided he had to ask,

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

Well, that hadn’t told him what was up.  “Look, we uh… we don’t have to keep doing this.  If you don’t want to,” he’d told her, even though the mere thought of holding himself to that offer was like torture.  Seriously!  Having that chassis in front of him all the time and never being able to interface with it would have practically been a crime against robotkind!

“Hm?”

“You always seem kinda… relieved that we’re done.”

“Oh,” GLaDOS had said, as though the thought had never occurred to her.  Which was wild!  “I am. But not because of anything to do with you.”

Encouraging! but not helpful.  “And… the reason is…”

But then she had moved away and said she was going to sleep, and that had been that.  And that had been four days ago.

He really didn’t want to wait another week or however long to be able to touch her again.  Especially since she hadn’t told him not to.  Not recently, at least.  He didn’t wanna take advantage or anything!  Really!  He just wanted to cuddle her as much as possible!  And she didn’t even have to be on! He wasn’t even asking to take up any of her time to do it!  He was cool with just doing it while she was asleep! She probably wouldn’t even notice!

Oh.  Oh, wait.  That was true.  She probably wouldn’t.  She’d never mentioned the fact that he talked to her at night, so she probably wasn’t conscious at all.  Not even a little bit.  It was really hard to tell with admin bots, since their task lists were more of a twenty-four-seven dealie, but she wasn’t the kind of person to keep quiet if he was doing something she didn’t like.  But she couldn’t dislike something she didn’t know was happening!

Would that count as being sneaky, though?  He already knew asking her direct questions was not the way to get an answer of any kind. He just sorta had to ease into things and wait and see if she told him to stop.  Which he wouldn’t have to do for this, since she’d be totally asleep and not know about it at all.

Well, what did he have to lose?  He was just gonna go for it.  She probably wouldn’t even get that mad.  Probably. She might.  Hopefully not mad enough to kick him out, though.  He really liked living here.  Also, he really liked her.  Which was why he just couldn’t bear to keep his hands off her!  And honestly it would be weird if he did want such a thing!  She was so big and so beautiful and it felt so good to just put his arms around her as far as he could reach and just sit there and listen to all the noise her brain made as she went on thinking those smart thoughts of hers.  Ohhhh. He shivered.  Okay, now he was really gonna do it.  He could not go another second without holding her again.  It’d be fine. No big deal.  It was nothing at all to cuddle your girlfriend while she was sleeping even though she hadn’t actually told you it was okay to do that. Probably everyone else did it all the time and he was late to the game.  Which… wasn’t unusual, actually.

“Okay,” he said to himself, looking at her and thinking over how he wanted to do this.  It was gonna have to be from the side, since he couldn’t really move that much from the front and he could never be sure how long he could stay still for.  So he went up to her left side and he very, very carefully put his right arm along the part of her core where the ceramic fit into the rail that let her shift it up and down.  Then he stayed very still and listened as hard as he could.

Nothing.  

Good!  Exactly what he’d been hoping for.  When he thought he’d calmed himself down again he very slowly positioned his chassis as close to her as possible, which also went very well, and then he finally (again very slowly!) put his other arm up against the front of her core.  He did remember she didn’t like having her optic assembly touched at all, so he put his arm up a little higher just in case he stopped paying attention and it slipped.  She would definitely be mad if he punched her in the eye, even if it was by mistake.

He was so nervous about the whole thing that he didn’t really get to enjoy it for the first ten minutes, but after that?  Totally worth it.  

He was never gonna feel lonely at night again.

 //

 Every day he waited about twenty minutes to make sure she’d gone to sleep, and then he’d go up to her and put his arms around her real slow.  Sometimes he wouldn’t talk or watch TV or even do anything, because the feel of her was just so darn nice.  He’d just sit there and think about what it must be like to be a construct like her. Though… he never really came to the conclusion it was a nice life.  She didn’t have any friends and she never really seemed to have fun.  It seemed like being smart enough to be admin just… sucked.  Because then they gave you all this work to do, and if you didn’t have any work you just started going stir-crazy!  Even if he’d been good at it, Claptrap didn’t really like working. It was a lot more fun to just mess around and do what he wanted.  But GLaDOS couldn’t do that.  Well, she could.  But not for very long.  She had too much work to do.

At times where he was thinking stuff like that, he hugged her a little tighter and wished she’d open up to him a little more.  Gosh, he liked her a lot.  It sure would be cool to know if doing this was okay or if he was just being a total asshole.  Claptrap was a pretty nice guy, compared to everybody else on Pandora, but in a world where everyone was kinda a jerk he was also bound to be a jerk like fifty percent of the time.

He did this every day for a week or two and it always seemed to go fine.  He already knew by now when she was waking up by the sound of it – ‘cause it was loud – and he usually got off her with plenty of time to spare. But then there was this time he forgot what he was doing because he was watching a movie about a dog that could play basketball, and it was just so amazing that he didn’t realise he’d lost track of time until he seemed to have gotten a lot warmer and noisier all of a sudden.  That was certainly weird, since he wasn’t, like, thinking or anything, and while he was trying to puzzle that out he suddenly remembered just who he was hanging onto.

Ohhhhh s***.  Oh s*** s*** s***.  How was he gonna explain his way out of this?  He veeeeeery slowly extracted himself from her core, backed away about three feet, and then… nothing.  She didn’t do anything.  She didn’t yell at him, or sigh in annoyance, or even actually move.  He wasn’t sure what to do.  Was he in trouble?  Was she thinking about how much trouble he was in?  Was she gonna kill him?  Or, worse, kick him out?

“Good morning,” he said, in an attempt to be casual, but considering his voice came out kinda high-pitched it was unlikely he was even one percent convincing.  Aw, hell.  

She still didn’t move. Well.  Onto the hard question.

“Are you mad?”

She didn’t say anything, and because he was himself he felt the need to fill the silence with something.  “Look, I know I shouldn’t’ve been doing that.  And I… I’m sorry I didn’t ask first, but I thought you’d say no!  And I mean, you’re my girlfriend!  And I never get to hold you!  That’s kinda a thing I’m supposed to be able to do!  Maybe not all the time, but not never!  So I figured, hey!  She’s asleep, and I’m not asleep, so we can both have what we want!  So yeah!  When you go to sleep at night I come up and cuddle with ya until you get up.  I really like it.  A lot.  I’m not doing anything else, I swear.  I’m really not.  It’s okay if you’re mad.  I shoulda asked first.”  He spread his hands helplessly, since she was giving him literally nothing to work with here.  

“I’m not mad,” GLaDOS said unexpectedly.  “I knew about it the whole time.”

Wait.  What? She’d known the entire time and she’d just… let him?  Without saying or doing anything?  He felt like that had to mean something.  Okay, okay. She’d known about it and instead of telling him to get lost, she’d just let it go on.  And she’d done that because…

Oh.  Oh, wait a minute.

“GLaDOS,” Claptrap said, “do you like it when I hold you?”

She was quiet for so long he thought he wasn’t gonna get an answer out of her, but then she said,

“I don’t know.”

That was when he was suddenly reminded of something he usually forgot about her: that he was kinda the only person she knew.

How would she know if she liked being hugged or not?  It wasn’t like she had arms.  She was also really big.  That wasn’t a problem for him, of course, but it could be a bit of a hitch in the hugs department. And even if she’d known other people, she’d probably had a lot of crappy experiences with people touching her.  He didn’t quite know what they had been, but he didn’t need the deets to know what humans liked to do with robots. Every time they got their hands on one they started –

Ohhhhhh.  Now he got it.  Now he got what aaaaaall of this was about. It had absolutely nothing to do with him at all!  For once.  He was just the first person she was letting touch her in like ten years.  She was very, very slowly giving him her trust.  And he actually seemed to be earning it!  All of this was doing wonders for his self-esteem, actually.  Wait!  He was supposed to be doing something.  What was it again?  Oh yeah! GLaDOS.  He’d asked if she liked being held and she’d said she didn’t know. And then he’d kinda spazzed.  Okay.  Uh… hm. Did he keep talking about it?  She didn’t usually like talking about stuff. Soooooo… subject change!  But what to?  Hm. This was kinda hard…

“Hey, you wanna see some parking fails?”

“Some what?”

So he got out one of his playlists – which he had a lot of, mostly for making himself better when he did something stupid – and that actually did cheer her up.  Awesome!  Even more awesome was the part where she slowly put herself right next to him and he got to hold her again.  But casually.  And nicely. So she’d have lots of time to tell him to piss off.  And when he did back off because she told him she had work to do, she said,

“You seem to like doing that.”

Was that a trick or something?  Of course he did!  “Uh… yeah?”

“You can keep doing it. If you really enjoy it that much.”

Ohhhh.  She was doing that thing where she wanted him to do something, but she was pretending it was because he wanted to do it.  Which he did. But whatever helped her out, right? “I have no problem with that!”

So later that night, after she was done the stuff she did all day, he went back to holding her and she did… whatever she did before sleeping.  He tried to think of just how to keep this whole thing from bothering her. Because he would love to do it every day.  Well, with her wanting him to do it.  It was nicer like that.  She just felt so good to hold like this.  Even if he sometimes wished his arms were a little longer so he could really do it right.

“Sweet dreams, beautiful,” he said, not really in a whisper but sorta quietly, anyway, and after a moment she did this… thing.  He wasn’t sure what to call it.  She kinda pushed her core into him a little bit, like… like a cat did when it wanted your attention, and… well, he liked it.  It was really cute.  It would be really great if she did it again sometime. Like, a lot.  Okay, maybe not too much.  Then it wouldn’t be special anymore.  Or maybe it still would be.  ‘cause she was so special.

Oh geez.  This was getting a little more serious than he’d thought it was gonna be.  

“Goodnight, funnychips,” she said, so quietly he almost didn’t hear it because her operations were louder than her voice.  And he almost started jumping up and down, he was so excited to hear that, but he realised that wouldn’t be the best decision and hugged her extra hard for a minute instead.

This was totally getting super serious.  He’d never gotten that far before and if he wasn’t careful it would be way worse to lose something like this than to just be told to get lost off the bat like usual.  He wasn’t sure how to be careful, exactly, but he was gonna try.

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Detroit: Become Human Connor x Reader [5]

A/n: (***) indicates a flashback. Besides that, I’ve got nothing else to say. Love you all!!!

••••••••••••••

~3rd Person POV~

Connor and Hank were currently chasing down a deviant. Being the faster one out of the duo, Connor sped ahead and followed on the machine's heels. As he ran down the street, the deviant weaved through a throng of people, desperate to escape Connor.

The deviant shoved aside a young woman who was shopping, pushing her into traffic. Instead of chasing after the machine, Connor ran to the woman's aid and pulled her to safety just as a bus was going to hit her. Safely back on the sidewalk, Connor grasped her arms and stared into her (e/c) eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she said softly. "Thank you."

Connor couldn't tear his eyes from hers. Something about her felt familiar, but the android couldn't put a finger on it.

"Connor!" Hank shouts as he catches up to the android. "Where'd the deviant go?"

"Sorry, Lieutenant. I lost sight of him," Connor said as he released the woman.

"It's my fault," the young woman said. "He saved me from getting hit by a bus."

Hank knew exactly who this girl was, but he kept his lips sealed. "Don't worry 'bout it. That piece of shit will be back soon enough."

She nods and takes a step away from Connor. "I shouldn't disturb you, gentlemen. I'll be on my way."

"Stay safe," Hank calls out to her as she walks across the street. The Lieutenant saw Connor was watching her intently with furrowed brows. "Love at first sight?" He teases with a chuckle.

"No, but... she seemed rather familiar."

Hank sighed and murmured under his breath. "More than you know."

Connor turned his gaze to his partner as he placed a hand over his chest. "I've never felt such a thing. It's quite... warm."

"Let's just get back to the station."

Connor nods and they return to Hank's car. During the drive, the android didn't say a word as he stared out the window. His thoughts kept running back to the woman he had saved and the familiarity he felt when their eyes met. Though he had only been deviant for a few days, he was still going through a list of whole new emotions.

At the station, Connor sat in the desk adjacent to Hank's and stared at the blank computer screen. The Lieutenant raised a brow as he observed the android's strange behavior. "Y'know, it's fucking creepy how you're starin' right now."

Connor's brown eyes darted over to Hank's blue ones. "That woman... I can't get her off my mind."

"She was beautiful. It's normal for a man to think about a woman he just met," Hank shrugged.

"No, this was more. I felt as if I had met her before, but I would've remembered."

Hank leaned back in his chair and opened the top drawer in his desk. He pulled out his police I.D. and handed it to the android. Connor was confused as the Lieutenant handed the object to him. "Go down to the archives and search up (Y/n) (L/n). You'll get all the answers you're lookin' for. Make sure to keep a watchful eye out. Don't let anyone see you down there."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Connor left Hank and headed to the archives in secret. Luckily, no one spotted him as he used Hank's I.D. to unlock the door. He arrives at the computer and placed his hand on it. A prompt for Hank's password appeared. "What would a hard-boiled, eccentric police lieutenant choose?" Connor only had four possible passwords to chose from. He went with the third option.

FUCKINGPASSWORD

"Obviously," Connor grins as the password works. He typed in (L/n), (Y/n) and one result popped up. It was a file that had been terminated. According to the date on the file, it happened only three months back. Opening it, he saw pictures of the woman he had saved just a few hours ago. Connor narrowed his eyes as he saw she was a former detective. Curiosity blossomed inside the android and he searched the file for why she had been let go so abruptly. Connor found his answer on the following page.

Cause of Termination- RK800 prototype

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. According to the file, it had been his fault she was terminated from her position as detective. He shook his head and read further into the file. As he saw pictures of them together, something triggered inside Connor's memory. He placed a hand against his temple and closed his eyes as locked away memories were liberated.

***

"What is the meaning of this, Amanda?" Connor demands as he and (Y/n) find her in the zen garden.

(A/n: I know the zen garden is a graphical interface, but let's pretend it's a real place that is accessible to anyone.)

The woman's eyes were trained on (Y/n) as she stood beside Connor. "Miss (L/n) will no longer be helping you on the deviancy cases."

"Has she done something wrong?" Connor questioned harshly. Amanda remained silent as a handful of CyberLife guards entered the pristine garden. The duo was confused as they set their attention on them. Two men grabbed (Y/n)'s arms and started to drag her out of the zen garden.

Connor dashed forward and tried to get the guards away from her, but the remaining men pointed their guns at him. Connor gritted his teeth and faced Amanda. "(Y/n)'s done nothing wrong."

"On the contrary, she has. Miss (L/n) has turned you against your duties and you're making questionable decisions that could result in your shutdown. Due to her influence, you've become more human and we cannot allow that."

"What are you planing to do with her?" Connor asked, fists clenched tightly at his side.

"We simply will force her to resign and wipe your memory of her."

"I don't want to forget (Y/n). I am able to feel so much more due to her."

"I'm sorry, Connor, but you have no say in this decision." Amanda looked at the remaining guards. "Take him to the lab and wipe his memory. Once successful, send him back here."

As the guards went to grab him, Connor dodged and fought back. He tried to steal one of their guns, but one of them had electrocuted him before he could even react. Due to the high voltage, Connor blacked out.

***

Awaking from his memories, Connor felt the love in his metallic heart for (Y/n). He had grown to love her during their time together and that's the main reason why Amanda tore them apart. With no other information available on her, Connor dashed out of the archives and returned to Hank.

At the Lieutenant's desk, Connor placed his hand on the cool surface. "We were partners..."

Hank nods slowly, "And much more than that. Bastards at CyberLife wiped your memory clean of her once they figured out you had developed feelings for her. (Y/n) was forced to resign the moment she was escorted back to the station."

Connor leaned in closer to Hank, hoping he had the answers to his many questions. "Do you know where I can find her?"

"Today was the first time I saw her since she resigned. I don't know what the hell she does now. This place lost a kickass detective that day."

"An address. Do you know where she lives?"

"Jesus, Connor. You sound like a fucking stalker."

"Lieutenant, I must find her."

Hank saw the determination and knew Connor wasn't going to give up anytime soon. "Ask the Captain. He might know a thing or two about her current situation."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

Connor practically jogs to Jeffrey's office. Once inside the Captain's office, the android stood in front of the busy Jeffrey. He groaned once he saw Connor standing before him. "What do you want?"

"Information on a former detective. Her name is (Y/n) (L/n)."

Captain Fowler ceased typing. He saw Connor's demeanor meant business and he wouldn't leave without what he had came for. Jeffrey sighs and leans back in his chair. "Why the hell would an android wanna know sensitive information of a former detective?"

"I'm aware she was the best detective you had until she resigned. I've also been informed and reminded of my relation to her."

Jeffrey pressed his hands together. "So, you've regained your memory. Guess CyberLife does suck at something."

"Please, Sir. I must find (Y/n)."

"Let's say you do find her. What then? What happens if CyberLife finds out you've regained your memory of her? It's possible they'll get rid of her at all costs if she's deemed a severe threat to your mission and causes more harm than good."

"I would never allow that outcome."

Captain Fowler met Connor's determined gaze and broke under its intensity. "You better keep your word and protect her. (Y/n) was the best damn detective in all of Detroit. Hell, she was better than any android CyberLife could make. Let me see if I can find where she's employed now." Connor waits silently and hoped the Captain would be able to provide information. After five minutes, Jeffrey finally found something. "(Y/n)'s currently employed in a flower shop on Livingston Avenue—suite number is three-zero-two. Shop goes by the name of 'Moondrop'."

"Thank you, Captain." Connor runs out of Jeffrey's office and through the office.

"Connor, where the hell are you goin'?!" Hank shouts as he saw the android dash out of the building.

Connor ran through the busy streets of Detroit with only one destination in mind. He didn't stop for anything as he passed countless of bystanders who eyed him curiously. The address ran through his system over and over again, burning it into his coding.

The android ran for twenty minutes straight until he finally reached Livingston Avenue. He spotted the flower shop and saw the one person he so desired to see through the window. Connor entered the shop and was greeted by (Y/n). "Welcome to Moondrop."

Connor saw her calm expression, but picked up on her nervous ticks. She pulled at her shirt and bit her lower lip as their eyes met. Seeing as the shop was empty except for the two of them, Connor maneuvered behind the counter that obscured his path.

"Sir, you can't just—!" (Y/n)'s protest was silenced when Connor pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. She tried to push him away, but Connor wouldn't budge an inch.

"My memories have returned," he simply said.

Her (e/c) eyes widen at the revelation. "If CyberLife finds out, they'll wipe it again! You already lost your memory once. I won't be the reason again, Connor."

"I am a deviant because of your influence. I do not wish to return to being just a machine. The emotions you taught me are ones I would never want to give up, (Y/n)."

"You don't know how happy that makes me, but I can't allow CyberLife to mess with your memory again." She breaks free and backs away from Connor. The young woman turns her back to him and walks over to a flower display. Connor didn't want their relationship to end so he did the only thing that could possibly convey his feelings for her. The android grabbed her arm and forced her to face him. Before a word could leave her, Connor sealed her lips with his.

It was all thanks to (Y/n) that Connor finally experienced human emotions and was able to feel alive. Also, he was able to feel the sensation of falling in love. Without her, he would still be an emotionless machine who obeyed orders without question.

Their kiss was interrupted when the door opened and Hank entered the flower shop. They ended the kiss, but remained close to each other. "Hello, Lieutenant," Connor greets as if nothing has happened.

"Don't "hello" me! You dash out of the station and don't say a fuckin' word! I had to get Jeffrey to tell me where you'd gone." Hank then saw (Y/n) and grinned as he solved the mystery. "Now I know why your ass was in such a hurry. Jeffrey wouldn't tell me. All he did was give me the damn address."

"Nice to see you again, Hank," (Y/n) greets, her cheeks lightly dusted with red.

"Miss hearing you shit-talk Reed. Bastard needs to be taught a lesson."

"Sorry, Hank. Those days of insulting Gavin are over. I do still have a few insults I haven't used. I'll keep 'em stored for the perfect moment," (Y/n) smirks.

"Sorry I interrupted your make-out session. I'll wait out in the car for you, Connor." Hank leaves the shop and the door closes behind him with the jingle of the bell.

"It was nice to see him again after these horrible few months. Maybe I'll—"

Connor silenced her again with a kiss much deeper than before. It was short, but neither one of them thought it wasn't enough. (Y/n) placed a hand on Connor's chest and giggled. "You've got to stop interrupting people."

"Apologies, (Y/n). I... could not wait any longer."

"Guess you now know about being impatient. Just try to keep that emotion under control."

"What about love?"

"That one, um... not so sure. This is the first time someone's cared for me like this since I lost my sister ten years ago. It's been awhile since I've felt love or have been loved. Anyways, let's forget about my non-existing love life up 'til this point."

"Love is a rather... complicated emotion. I was quite overwhelmed at the first sign."

"And when was that?" (Y/n) asked.

"After our fifth case. You risked your life for mine and took a bullet knowing I would simply be replaced by another RK800 prototype. You never once treated me like a machine."

(Y/n) leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. "The moment you, Hank, and I became a team, I never saw you as a machine. To me, you were a colleague I respected. Now, it's so much more." Connor felt the joy inside him growing at her gentle words. (Y/n) smiled as she was able to read his expression easily. "I love you, Connor. I don't care that you're a machine. All I see is the man that I fell in love with."

The huge smile on the android's face was stuck as he gazed at her passionately. "I love you, as well, (Y/n). I hope you will teach me more emotions."

"Of course, sweetie. I'll help you experience everything."

[nika-the-hunter]

House of Mist [Ch.5]

NE 4th ST, South Bellevue Ruins +2 Days

Nicole hurried across Bellevue with Rykis and the other Fallen that had survived the ambush. The Baron's den was completely across town from where they had stowed the vehicles. It was the final hour before dawn, and a few flurries of snow had blown in while they were gone.

There were not many other Fallen out and about like there had been that morning, aside from the occasional sentry on patrol. Their glowing eyes made spotting them fairly easy inside windows or on rooftops. Nicole's Ghost flew around her head and glanced out at the buildings.

"I still find it highly unusual that this House is active during the day... and not at night like many of the other Houses," he said quietly, blinking along with their walk.

Rykis looked over at the small machine and simply waved across the buildings. "While our night vision is very good, there are things to do here that can only be done when the sun is out," he nodded enthusiastically.

"Interesting." The Ghost flew around and orbited Rykis once before returning to Nicole's side. "I still do not entirely approve of this, Guardian. We should be on our way to the Last City."

"I don't think so, Ghost. I don't know if you've noticed... but I suck," Nicole said. "I think we should stay here as long as these Fallen will have me. At least until I have more experience."

The Ghost's fins angled down, seemingly to mimic an angry frown. "Fine, you make a good point."

The group of Fallen, plus one Guardian, walked across the city, towards the Baron's dome. When they arrived, the Baron's guards ushered them inside. Nicole followed along, but Rykis was not translating anything at the moment. She passed through the dining room she had met the Baron in before, and into a large chamber with a variety of screens.

The Baron himself was sitting in a large chair in the back of the room. "This guy probably has a throne in every room here," she whispered to her Ghost. Even if what she said was transmitted beyond her helmet, only Rykis would understand.

"He does seem the type," her Ghost replied.

The Fallen proceed to reiterate what happened upon the mountain, at least which is what Nicole thought they were doing; none of it was being translated for her. Up in his chair, the Baron looked distressed and sounded extremely frustrated whenever he spoke.

It was a full hour of testimony before Rykis nudged her. She had sort of zoned out again, watching a series of screens displaying maps of the area. There was not much of a purpose to listening to a bunch of gibberish she could not understand.

"Guardian, have your ghost display his recording." Rykis gestured to the main screen facing the Baron.

"Got it; Ghost, if you may?" Nicole held out her hand, summoning her companion.

The small machine appeared in her palm and glanced towards the slightly curved screen. "I will see if I can make a solid connection. I've never interfaced with a Fallen screen before." A small beam of energy shot from the Ghost's eye and connected to the screen.

It took a moment, but the screen flashed and the group was treated to a video of her sitting on the tank. It was taken over her shoulder, and she assumed it was taken by her Ghost's eye, however the past version of herself took the Ghost out, yet the camera remained in the same position.

"This is a bit early; I will jump to the point in question. I will also be able to rotate the view to focus on anything that happened around us," the Ghost said; Rykis translated that for the Baron, who simply waved a hand in acknowledgement.

The video jumped forward to the moments before the fighting started earlier that night. The Baron watched the combat through completely before instructing the Ghost to rewind and rectangle different shots. He halted the recording on a good shot of the blockade and ruined Pikes. The frozen image also held a downed Skiff; she had not noticed its burning wreckage when she was up there, but it explains why there was no aerial cover like she had been told.

Nicole leaned over to her while the Fallen continued to discuss amongst themselves. "So... how exactly did you manage to get this angle?" she whispered.

The Ghost dipped one wing and turned to look at her. "Space Magic."

"Rea-" She started and then was immediately interrupted.

"Yes. Really."

"Well that just seems like a cop-out, to be honest," Nicole replied, reaching out and giving the Ghost a light push with her finger.

"Some sort of nano-camera system along your helmet and armor." Her Ghost imitated a shrug with his fins. "Some just call it space magic, so I do to."

"Isn't it nice to explain things though?"

"Absolutely... not." His damaged fin sparked slightly.

Nicole shook her head and sighed. "You are no help."

Meanwhile it appeared that the Baron had finished deliberating with the other Fallen. Nicole noticed him nod and gesture for the others to leave, except for Rykis who stayed behind. The Baron waved a hand at Nicole and spoke.

Rykis resumed his second job, being her translator. "By all means this was a failure, but you are lucky I cannot place the blame on you. You survived, where my fellows did not; a feat I am not sure how I feel about... Unfortunately I am aware you are unable to die, but that is also fortunate for me..." Rykis glanced back at the Baron, seemingly stopping mid-sentence. The Baron barked, and nodded for Rykis to finish. "...that I can kill you without consequence."

"Wait, hold on-" Nicole raised her left arm while her right felt for the grip of her pistol. However she stopped mid pull. There was no way she could kill this creature with a peashooter like that. Plus, even trying would ruin her chances here. Instead she looked on, and flashed five fingers at her Ghost.

"Five minutes? Got it," the Ghost replied with what seemed like the quietest response over the radio she had ever heard.

The Baron's lower arms appeared with a handgun, and fired once. The bullet flashed through her helmet and through her forehead, once again banishing her to the darkness.

Time passed in the void and eventually she was brought back to the land of the living. She had been dumped in the snow outside the Baron's compound, so upon awakening she was quite cold. Rykis offered a hand to help her up as soon as he saw movement. "Apologies, Guardian... the Baron is not pleased with the events that have transpired."

"No shit." Nicole took Rykis' hand and he pulled her up. "At least that plan worked..."

She took off her helmet and checked the front. Where the bullet had passed through there was an obvious paint chip and dent, the Ghost had patched it fairly well. She rubbed her thumb across the spot, barely feeling anything through her gloves, and then plopped it back onto her head. "What next?"

"There is nothing more tonight," Rykis said. "We should return to your tower."

"Oh, well that's fine." Nicole turned and looked over the skyline. "Which direction is that?"

"It is on the other side of the city," Rykis nodded. "I will take you, but pay attention this time."

Across the snow dusted city the old hotel stood out among the smaller structures on the peninsula; it was the only one over three floors. The hotel itself appeared to be in better repair than the rest of the buildings. It might be an acceptable place after all.

Nicole walked up the stairs and found her room. She flopped back down onto the old be and decided to go back to sleep for a good bit, she was more tired than she thought.

The next few days went on and Nicole found herself slotting into a daily routine. Rykis was spending the morning hours teaching her their language, which was not easy in any aspect. Afterwards she would collect food and water from the depot in the city, and return for more language class. It was just as hard for him to teach her as it was for her to actually pronounce many of the needed vernacular; however she was slowly starting to get the basics down after a week.

Her ventures into the city became more than just water runs after the first week. There was so much out there that the Fallen had not yet claimed, or they did not use. By the second week, there had been an increase in patrols going out; none of which she was part of. There was a lot of force build up down by the old highway. Rykis had said he was not sure what it was for, it was just in response to the patrol she had been on.

Between the day's language lessons, Nicole sat in the corner of the room reading a semi-water damaged book she had found in one of the empty Hotel rooms. It was a tour guide for hikes out in the mountains; though of course all the trails would be long overgrown by now, it was more for her to understand what the area was like. A sudden gust of wind blew in through the window and disturbed the flaking paint. Chunks fluttered to the floor around her discarded armor plates, and she stopped reading to look around the dilapidated room. As the cogs of thought turned in her head, she set the book down and summoned her Ghost. "You know... I think I can fix this place up a bit."

"Finally! We're actually going to do something." He popped off her hand and flew around the room, his eye producing a blue light and he scanned the space. "The structural integrity is still stable, so it's all going to be cosmetic work."

"Good." Nicole tapped her chin with a finger. "So we need paint and some materials to fix the walls... and I could kill for something more comfortable than the cloth I've been sleeping on. Let's see if we can find some out there."

She pulled on her chest plate and clamped the pieces all together. Nicole pulled the plate away slightly from beneath. "Oof... It didn't feel this tight yesterday. It really... compresses... stuff, you know?"

Her Ghost turned around and blinked at her. "I apologize, the measurements may be wrong; they were the default set by the provider. Time without the plate has allowed your body to expand to your natural form. We should find materials to make some adjustments while we are out there."

Nicole clicked all the small miscellaneous armored plates into place, but then tapped the plate over her hip with a knuckle. "Okay, this stuff feels thin."

"I did not have much material to make the gear, it provides life support but that is pretty much it," her Ghost said. "You can get better gear in time, with materials I can rework and break down existing armor to help upgrade what you have, or restore older sets you find... if that's what you like."

"Another reason to get going." Nicole headed out the door of her room and dropped off the side of the balcony to the floor below. Rykis' room was across the floor, but he was not in the room. A written note, in english, was up on the door. Apparently Rykis had been called away by the House's Archon. He would not be around for an undetermined amount of time. "Oh that's just great, I don't have an interpreter."

"Are you still going out then?" the Ghost asked.

"Of course, I don't feel like being cooped up in here." She spun around and walked down the stairs

"Good," the Ghost quipped. "When I was searching for you, I passed a great deal of warehouses south of here. There might be untapped resources left there we could check out."

Nicole ducked to get out through the old lobby doors and into the cloudy weather. "Okay that's where we're headed. How far is that?"

"It is about twenty five kilometers." The Ghost projected a map of the area onto her helmet HUD with a path from her current location to somewhere south of them. "It's a six hour slow walk, two at a jogging pace, if you're up for it."

"Are we sticking to a clear path?" She asked, heading up the nearby onramp that led onto one of the many ancient highways. The concrete roads remained relatively passable with all the old rusted cars pushed to the sides, grass and other shrubbery had long penetrated through cracks though.

"Best route keeps us following this old highway." He replied. "They're not overgrown as much as the surface streets."

"Alright, just keep the route up for me." Nicole took off down the road, staying in the middle of all the ruins. They had built the highways here with high walls on either side to keep the sound down for the homes and businesses that had once lined either side; however, it now just made it look like she was running down a dry river channel.

They traveled south at a quick pace, staying on the path the Ghost had set. Snow had fallen again while she slept; hopefully the winter season would end soon, her armor was not the best insulator. Nicole used the run to practice her language lessons, her Ghost would say a phrase in english and then she would repeat it back to him in the language of the Fallen. It was hopefully helpful, though she had no way of knowing if she was actually pronouncing it correctly. The scenery was a lot of rust, greens and greys, not much at all to look at; she needed something to keep her busy to pass the time.

Eventually the highway evened out and lost its concrete walls, switching to something slightly elevated above the land around it. The land here was flatter, losing the hills and steep valleys she had been running through for the last two hours. It was a welcomed change. These were wide valleys, she could see the other side but it was a good distance away. Though she could see why the Ghost had brought her all this way, this valley was filled with massive flat buildings. Warehouses, by the hundreds. She came to a stop outside the first warehouse. "Alright, one last phrase, lay it out for me."

"How about you translate what I say?" her Ghost said. "Here it goes, Hiss hiss, chitter chitter, growl growl."

"Rude." Nicole frowned and summoned her Ghost to her hand. He appeared, with his fins formed into what her mind interpreted as a snide smirk. She pulled her hand away from beneath the Ghost and gently slapped the little ball.

"Okay fine, fine." The Ghost twitched its fins and flew around Nicole's helmet. "Shall we find out if there is anything of use here?"

"Yeah, okay." Nicole hopped over a rusted container truck partially buried in the eroded soil. There were a lot of scenes like that across the area she had explored; piles of earth and vegetation had gathered along walls or anything else that got in the way of the wind and rain. An entrance to this monolithic concrete structure was thankfully shielded by the container; one of the loading dock doors had rusted and fallen away. She walked inside and glanced around the massive open space, columns were evenly placed in the open space, supporting the ceiling far above her. Rows and rows of metal racks were filled with crates and the remains of ancient cardboard boxes... Their contents rotted and growing moss.

"Well, I don't see anything here that looks like it can be salvaged," the Ghost said, flying around and through the shelves. "There are a large amount of computer screen mounts, not that we need any of those right now."

Nicole shook her head, "No, nothing valuable for us... though, if we did need it, could you do what you did to my gun? Clean it up and make it work again?"

"Possibly, but I was only able to do that because I had some glimmer, that is programmable matter, to reconfigure into the missing parts," he replied. "My reserves are running very low right now."

"Where do we get you more? I'm sure there there's bound to be some stored in one of these warehouses." Nicole walked further into the structure and passed a rusted forklift, some yellow paint flakes were still barely holding onto the frame.

"Glimmer could be found anywhere really; bits of Golden Age technology house components made from the stuff, but there does not appear to be any here anymore." The Ghost spun around the old forklift, his eye scanning over its surface. He mumbled afterwards, she could barely hear him. "Oh my, this thing was ancient during the Golden Age..."

She hopped over an area where the floor had given way to the basement below, though she spied a promising sign not too far ahead. Vault Storage. Nicole stopped before a set of massive doors, and waved the Ghost over. "Can you get these open? They look like they haven't been touched yet, and vaults always hold something good, right?"

The little machine sailed over and shot a beam of light at the control panel that she assumed belonged to the door. "Just a little repair work to bring this back online... as long as the cables to the motors are still intact."

As soon as he finished, there was a loud rumble as dust and rust broke free of the doors. They slid with a loud screeching that echoed across the cavernous space. Daylight streamed in from inside the doors, a bad sign to the integrity of the room beyond. Nicole raised her hand to block the sun, and then frowned at what she saw inside. The space was dominated by dozens of large wooden crates. Moss was plentiful, along with grass and ferns that grew on top of the old crates. The boxes themselves were taller than she was, but otherwise unimpressive. Stenciled across the front of one crate nearest to her were the words 'Vault N042'.

"Who the hell calls a wooden crate, a Vault?" She muttered, walking over to one over on its own and yanking the panel marked 'Door' free from its rusted clamps. The inside was equally as disappointing as the rest of the room. Crushed boxes and rotting furniture; some long dead person's belongings. Nothing that looked like it would be of any help to Nicole in her search for intact furnishings for her home. Everything here reeked of rot and mold. "Well this is all shit. I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that everything here is old furniture."

Giving the entire area a once over with his scanner, her Ghost nodded in place. "It does appear so; I am only detecting small quantities of Glimmer, and nothing that can help with the hole in the ceiling back in your tower." He passed over the area one time more, "And the Glimmer is too far buried to be worth the retrieval attempt. However there does appear to be a pre-Golden Age car stored up behind the first row."

"How exactly is that useful to me?" She asked, slightly confused.

"Not at all, just an interesting bit that I noticed." He returned to her and vanished into thin air. His voice now coming from her internal helmet speakers. "There are a lot more Warehouses to check, however. We should get moving before dark."

Nicole used the hole in the wall to exit the warehouse. "I am not going to search each and every one of these buildings..."

"I will do my best to indicate which buildings might be better to search, however building materials aren't exactly something that my scanners are made for."

"Got it, there has got to be something useful out here." Nicole walked on to check the next warehouse, hoping she would have better luck as the day went on.

AN Apologies about the time between chapters. I am in the middle of moving right now so this hasn't exactly been my top priority. If it looks a little weird here at the end, its because I chopped the chapter in half instead of making you all wait even longer. Sorry.

[shootwinterfest]

Who (What) is More Important to You

From @poideejay

Shaw was cleaning her Nano when the door to her apartment opened. She picked up the .45 she kept loaded while cleaning any and all of her weapons and turned toward the door. As she raised the 1911 toward the intruder, she recognized the intruder and reluctantly lowered the gun after a brief internal argument.

 “Root.”

The tall hacker swung through the door and into the living room. Her left arm hung at an odd angle indicating this wasn’t a social visit. The Machine’s Analog Interface had a strained smile on her face, her eyes flashed with pain.

 “Hi Sameen, think you could reset this shoulder? Oh, and while you’re at it, I think there’s a bullet wound right above where I dislocated it. Through and through, but I could use a stitch or two.”

 Shaw tilted her head at the bathroom.

 “Get in there and take off your blouse, I’ll be in as soon as I reassemble this piece.”

 “Jeez Sam, you could buy me dinner, or at least a drink first.”

 Root’s smirk, coupled with her words caused the former ISA killer to roll her eyes. A thought from her childhood slipped unbidden into her mind.

 Shaw’s mother catches little Sameen crossing her eyes and making faces in the bathroom mirror.

 “You know Sameen, if you do that enough, your eyes could get stuck like that.”

 Was it possible for my eyes to get stuck in a permanent ‘roll’? If she stays around long enough, I may just find out.

 “Just get in the bathroom, nerd, I’ll be in in a minute to repair the damage.”

 Five minutes later, Shaw was scrubbing her hands while Root sat shirtless on the toilet.

 “Sam, do you think we’ll be doing this in ten years?”

 “You keep at this for ten years Root, you’re going to be in a nursing home. You can’t survive the pace nor the collateral damage. In fact, if you don’t ease up, you’ll be dead in five years or less.”

 “She needs me Sam… I’m the only one who will do whatever she asks without question.”

 Shaw, taken by surprise at the anger that boiled up within her upon hearing Root’s words, turned on her in anger.

 “So where does that leave us? What do I do when the day comes and you walk out of here on a mission for your AI goddess and never come back. You say you’ll do what she asks without question…. what happens when she asks you to sacrifice yourself?

 “You think you can just waltz in here every couple of weeks, have me patch you up, stay a few days and then disappear to who knows where doing who knows what and have me not dread the day when you don’t come back?”

 Root stared up at the Persian firecracker, eyes wide.

 “Careful Shaw, someone might think you cared.”

 Shaw shook her head.

 “Well, it’s obvious you don’t.”

 The hacker looked at her like she’d been slapped. Tears shone in the tall brunette’s eyes but she refused to let them fall. She shook her head slowly, then looked down at the floor.

 The next twenty minutes were spent in uncomfortable silence as Shaw disinfected, stitched and bandaged the bullet wound, then took Root’s left hand in both of hers.

 “This is going to hurt- and not in a good way.”

 Without further warning, the former doctor pulled the hacker’s arm until pain caused searing white flashes of pain to explode in the left shoulder of the Analog Interface. Obviously stung by the conversation, Root wouldn’t give the satisfaction of a scream or even a moan of pain, she only hissed briefly.

 Then, as the shoulder popped back into place, the hacker sighed with relief. As they stared at each other in uncomfortable silence, Root smiled, stretched and reached for her shirt. As she slipped into it, the former ISA assassin walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen where she grabbed two beers out of the fridge.

 She approached the hacker as she came out of the bathroom and extended her hand, the unopened green bottle the only peace offering she was offering that evening.

 Root wasn’t having any. She shook her head sadly and headed for the door.

 “Thanks for the patch up doc, I’ll be going now. I hope I don’t have to bother you again for awhile.”

 Shaw frowned, confused.

 “Root, where….”

 The door to the apartment closed as the hacker headed down the hall, down the stairs and into the night.

 ….

 Six weeks later, Shaw still hadn’t seen nor heard from Root. The Analogue Interface might have dropped of the face of the earth for all any on the team knew. Finch was off in Europe, running around with Grace, Reese and Fusco were stopping crime officially and unofficially while Shaw dealt with a daily stream of irrelevant numbers.

 The weeks of Rootlessness had slowly turned Shaw into a snarling, combative operative that both Fusco and Reese avoided rather than face her biting tongue. No matter the innocent question or statement, the Persian turned it into an excuse to unleash sarcasm, vitriol and anger on anyone who happened to be in the general area.

 Finally, Reese had had enough.

 “OK, smiley, you and I are going to the gym and I’m going to beat your ass bloody.”

 “In your dreams, brother.”

 One hour later everyone who happened to be at Jeremy’s Gym were standing around the center ring watching as Shaw and Reese pummeled each other. The entire crowd was cheering as blow after blow reigned down from the two fighters gloved fists. Both were bloodied but neither would surrender as exhaustion began to creep up on them, robbing them first of their defensive speed.

 Poetically, each unconsciously dropped their left hand slightly as they were simultaneously throwing right crosses. The impact came sickeningly and with one sound as each landed their punch, then crumpled under the power of the blows.

 As each lay twitching on the canvas, stunned almost to the point of paralysis, a trainer jumped into the ring and declared the bout over. He reached down and helped first Shaw, then Reese to their feet, then directed each to hit the showers.

 Reese looked over at the retreating form of the former ISA agent and shook his head.

 Hope that helped or I may have gotten my ribs broken for nothing.

 ….

 The pair rode back to the subway in silence. Finally, Reese looked over at Shaw and asked.

 “Do you want to talk about it? You realize since she’s been gone you’ve been gradually turning into someone even we don’t want to be around. Your team building skills have always sucked, Shaw, but this is taking things to an extreme.

 “What the hell is going on?”

 Shaw was silent for so long Reese thought he wasn’t going to get an answer. Finally she looked over at him with such sadness and confusion he thought he was looking at another person.

 “A few weeks ago, she came to my apartment all beat up again as usual. I came as close as I’ve ever come to telling her I cared for her. I did it in my own way since it’s the only way I know how to do things.

 “She blew it off like I was just being my normal self and when she said ‘someone might think you care’ I lost it. I said ‘it’s obvious you don’t’ and she left, and I haven’t seen her since. I was ready to tell her how much I care for her, but she’s so devoted to that infernal Machine of hers, she won’t even listen to me when I try to tell her to be careful.

 “I still thought it’d be OK, but when I grabbed two beers she refused to take the one I offered her and walked out, only saying she hoped she wouldn’t have to bother me again for awhile. I haven’t seen nor heard from her since.

 “I don’t know what to do, Reese. Things have to change or I’m going to lose it. She says she cares for me, but since we defeated Samaritan, all she does is follow her goddess around wherever she instructs.

 “She doesn’t care about me, not really. I guess I’m tired and finished with being second fiddle to an Artificial Intelligence that holds her in the palm of its hand. I would have been willing to be an equal part of this weird menage a trois except I’ll always be second fiddle to her infatuation with a bunch of transistors and code. And that’s unacceptable.”

 Reese stared at the Persian firecracker. His eyes were a mixture of surprise and amusement.

 “We’re going back to the subway and you’re going to learn a thing or two about your on again off again girlfriend.”

 Shaw’s response was instantaneous and automatic.

 “She’s not my girlfriend.”

 Reese snorted.

 “We’ll see.”

 ….

 The pair walked into the deserted subway station and walked over to the car that housed several monitors and some communications equipment. Reese sat down and started punching commands into the keyboard.

 Shaw was smirking.

 “Be careful, you don’t want to start a war or anything.”

 Reese only raised an eyebrow.

 “I know a thing or two about this. Come over here.”

 Shaw approached the monitors and stood next to her teammate.

 “You think she always puts you second, well I think you need to see something. I guess neither Finch nor I ever had the feeling you needed to see this, but now… well watch.”

 Reese keyed a command and the monitor lit up. As Shaw saw the footage on the screen she gasped.

 “Root, what the hell?”

 The scene on the screen was the roof of a high-rise building. Root was looking into the camera and as the picture started she spoke.

 Root looked directly into the camera. “When you told me to stop looking for Shaw I did. But now I need you to help me. I can’t do this alone…” Root climbed onto the ledge wearing her high-heeled boots.

“Harold taught you Blackjack and Chess,” she continued, “I wonder if he ever taught you how to play chicken… I’m going to walk across this ledge with my eyes closed until A, you help me find Sameen, or B I fall tragically to my death.”

 Shaw’s heart was in her throat as she watched Root take a step, then another, falter then…

 “You’ve calculated the wind speed so you know how treacherous this is…You have to ask yourself what’s worse- the two of us working together or me, taking this next step alone.”

 A brief pause, then Root looks directly into the camera.

 “Thanks for playing.” She hopped down to the roof.

 Shaw looked up at Reese, not seeing him.

 “Son of a bitch Root! What were you thinking?”

 Reese reached for her hand.

 “Not what, Shaw, who. She was thinking of you. And it’s been like that since Wall Street. But don’t forget, you never told her if you felt anything because, in your words, ‘I don’t do feelings.’

 “Well Root does them, and maybe her running around throwing herself in harm’s way is just her way of dealing with feelings for a certain person she thinks aren’t reciprocated.”

 Shaw turned back from Reese and stared into the monitor.

 “Where is she?”

 The monitor stayed black.

 “Tell me or I’ll start shooting your servers. Eventually I’ll find one you need and it will begin to hurt.”

 She pulled her Nano and put a bullet in the monitor.

 “I am not fucking around!”

 One of the other monitors flickered to life. As the former ISA assassin turned toward it, coordinates appeared on the screen. Shaw pulled her phone and inputted the coordinates in her maps app.

 Seconds later she looked up at Reese.

 “She’s in a hotel six blocks from here.

 “What room?”

 Seconds later she got to her feet.

 “I’m going. Don’t know when I’ll be back”

 She started out of the subway car, then hesitated, turning back to Reese.

 “And John…. thanks.”

 Reese nodded at her back.

 ….

 Room 609 was the first room on the right when Shaw stepped out of the elevator. She took the key card the front desk had so graciously provided (either I get the key or I’ll have DEA in her by the time you guys leave for dinner and I’ll tell management you ratted them out. Now give me the key and go back to setting up your little drug deals.) and slipped it into the lock.

 When the door opened, she couldn’t see anything at first. The blackout curtains were closed and all the lights were off. As Shaw stepped quietly into the room she heard a weak, but familiar voice.

 “I think you broke into the wrong room asshole. There’s a 9mm pointed at your head.”

 “Root?”

 The lights clicked on. The hacker was lying in one of the beds, gun pointed at Shaw. Her face reflected confusion and exhaustion as she stared at the Persian.

 “Shaw? What are you doing here?”

 As the hacker lowered her gun, Shaw turned and closed the door, then approached the bed. She noted the state of the other bed, bloodied and disheveled, then looked over at the Machine’s Analog Interface.

 “She almost got you killed this time, didn’t she? And you came here to try to nurse yourself back to health? What the hell is wrong with you?”

 Shaw pulled back the sheet covering the hacker and looked away. Root’s body was a landscape of bruises in yellow, blue, purple and black. Three wounds, two of which looked like bullet wounds had been stitched awkwardly and showed signs of infection. Then there was the overall appearance of the hacker, who had lost ten pounds minimum that she couldn’t afford to lose.

 Root watched silently as Shaw examined her. When she shook her head and gazed into the hacker’s eyes, her own pain was obvious.

 “We need to get you out of this shit hole and someplace where I can properly patch you up. Do you have any clothes we can get on you?”

 Root’s eyes filled with tears.

 “You can just go, Shaw. I told you I wasn’t going to bother you for awhile. I can take care of myself.”

 “You obviously can’t based on the way you are right now. Let’s get you to my place.”

 “No thanks, I told you I can take care….”

 Shaw slammed her hand down on the nightstand.

 “No you can’t! Dammit Root, you’re seriously injured, your presenting infection and possible sepsis. You’re emaciated and if you don’t get some antibiotics then some proper nutrition you could die.”

 “Then you won’t have to patch me up anymore, Shaw. I don’t want to be a pain in your ass, so why don’t you just leave me alone.”

 The former ISA assassin walked around to the empty side of the bed and sat down. She stared at Root for a long, uncomfortable time, then looked toward the blacked out windows. When she looked back at the hacker, Root almost gasped.

 There were tears in Shaw’s eyes.

 “I didn’t want to have this conversation until you felt better, but I guess it’s now or never. This morning, Reese showed me security footage of you and Finch on the roof of a high rise somewhere in Manhattan. It opened my eyes to a few things.

 “I was wrong, Root. I thought you cared so much for your AI goddess that you’d never consider us. Yes that’s right us- you and me. I believed that you racing in and out, always on some errand for “Her”, meant that there was no place for me except as a convenient distraction to be visited when the need arose.

 “The insane and reckless stunt you pulled on that roof showed me you at least cared, and my place in whatever this is between us is more than I believed.”

 Shaw wiped almost angrily at her eyes.

 “You said the last time I saw you, ‘be careful Shaw, someone might think you cared.’

 “Well I do care, more than I ever have, more than I ever wanted to have. I don’t know how to describe this, but the emptiness when you’re not around sucks. The last six weeks have been bad, Root… I’ve not only missed you and your obnoxious flirting, I’ve regretted what I’ve said every day since you walked out.

 “And when I said to you that it was obvious you didn’t care, I didn’t mean it. It was something I just said trying to hurt you because of the hurt I was experiencing. And it’s a hurt I’ve never felt before so I don’t know how to process it.

 “I said I don’t do feelings, but you’ve caused me more feelings than anyone ever. I don’t know what to do with them, I don’t know how to deal with them and I don’t know how to reciprocate them.

 “I do know this- when you’re not around, my world is emptier than when you’re here. I know that when you’re gone I feel like part of me is missing. I know that when I see you, not like this of course, I feel good inside, like when I’ve eaten a particularly good meal. Sorry if that’s a bad analogy.”

 Root interjected, her own eyes leaking.

 “It’s a perfect analogy- for you, at least.”

 “Anyway, I care Root, more than I ever cared about someone since I lost my father. I care and want us to be something, anything that’s not like the last six weeks have been. I was angry with you for not caring about me, but the scene on the roof showed me how stupid and petty I was acting.

 “If you’ll forgive me and let me take you home and patch you up, we can start to figure out what this is and what it might be down the road.

 “Do you think we could?”

 Root smiled up at the Persian firecracker, tears still wet on her cheeks. She reached for Shaw’s hand, then winced as the pain hit her. Shaw’s eyes widened as she reached out her own hand to still the hacker’s movement.

 Root’s smile reappeared.

 “Take me home Sameen.”

[sassysatsuma]

Skeleton - Midnight

[I wrote this between 1am and 4am, so have pity on me. Also, you know that it is totally inspired by this song. Fingers crossed you like it! :)] 

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Midnight on the Wards looks just like any other time really.

There's the distant thrum of speeder engines vibratingthrough the air, producing a soft bassline which is punctuated with the oddhigh pitched wail of a siren. The apartment below her is having some kind of party,techno music rumbling out softly beneath her feet. Somewhere on the street,there's two asari laughing, tearing along the walkway whilst a hapless turianfollows, begging them to slow down. It's a lot like back home on Earth in itsway, except more vibrant and alive somehow. So many different species andcultures all bound together in one big but confined space.

Half the world is sleeping, the other half is partying andfucking living. Lara herself iscaught somewhere in between.

She'd woken up in a cold sweat, her nightshirt clinging toher body in all the wrong places, restrictive and oppressive. Sometimes shesleeps soundly, lost to the world in a perfect, dreamless slumber. Most nightshowever, she dreams of the people she's killed and the ones that have almostkilled her. She remembers the feeling of fire scorching past her armour andinto her skin, the explosion that sent her tumbling to the ground, bioticbarrier weak and barely strong enough to protect her. She remembers the face ofher best friend, pale and lifeless. The one man she'd risked everything to saveand yet still somehow managed to fail.

She remembers everything that N7 made her become andeverything they forced her to lose.

It’s always a losing battle trying to force sleep on nightslike these. Instead, she'd showered and allowed herself a little pampering,padding around her apartment wrapped in a towel for far longer than she'dnormally have time to. Dressed in her favourite sweatpants, faded Academy tshirt and a woollen cardigan that is so big it almost wraps twice around herframe, she’d fixed herself a sizeable mug of tea, sloshing in a good dash ofwhisky for good measure.

Now, she's out on her balcony, looking out over thetwinkling, multicoloured lights of the Wards. There's an artificial breeze thatbrushes across her face, but it’s hardly unpleasant, as close to fresh air as aperson could get living on an oversized space station like the Citadel.

- You awake? -

Her omnitool buzzes into life, disturbing her sense of calmentirely. Lazily, Lara flicks her wrist, scrolling through the virtualinterface to open up the message. She resists the urge to smile when she readshis name, but there's no escaping the way her stomach jumps a little.

A short conversation and a matter of minutes later, SimonRiley is striding as confidently as ever into her apartment.

"Shit, Bones... A fucking penthouse?!" She doubtsthat she's ever heard him sound so impressed as he steps out onto the balconyto join her. As ever he's dressed all in black, although he's gained a blackeye since the last time she'd seen him, a large purple and brown bruisecircling his right eye.

"All Alliance property, I'm afraid." She sighsnonchalant, sipping at her tea and definitely not noticing the way the dark,swirling tattoos littering his arms flex as he shrugs off his jacket and tossesit onto a nearby chair. Shifting her gaze to the cityscape ahead, she sees himmove into her peripheral vision as he leans on the railing beside her, theirarms close, but not touching.

"Maybe I jumped ship too soon after all."

"It comes with a lot of strings." She pauses,reluctant to return to the emotions that had led her here. Instead she takesanother long sip of her tea and turns to face the man to her left, her rightelbow still leaning against the railing. "Bit late for a house call though,isn't it, Riley?"

"Says the woman who let me in? My ship touched down acouple of hours ago. I headed to Chora's, but it was the same old fuckingfaces, so I figured that I'd message the one face that I actually wouldn't mindseeing." He reaches out, his fingers gently tugging at the woollenmaterial covering her tricep. "Didn't exactly expect to waltz in and findyou in your Granny pyjamas though."

"My sexy lingerie is at the dry cleaners."

"Right now, I'd be grateful for any kind oflingerie."

"Sucks to be you then, doesn't it?" Lara fixes himwith a smug smirk of her own. "You asked if you could come see me. I neverpromised to be in a state of undress."

"Bloke's allowed to dream, isn't he?" Rileyteases, pushing off from the railway. "C'mon then. Get a decent drink inmy hand and then you can bore me all you like with what you've been up to thepast three weeks, yeah?"

Lara wasn't sure when Riley had slipped past her defensesand into friendship territory, but pretending it never happened was a pointlessat this point. They were so different, driven by entirely different moralities,or so she had first thought. She'd written him off as a lowlife mercenary,willing to kill whoever necessary for the right price. That had downrightdisgusted her at the start, if she was being honest.

Trouble was, that wasn't who he was. He was a mercenaryalright, raw and brutal and unwilling to lift a finger unless there was atleast something in it for him. But he didn't accept every contract, wasn'twilling to lend his services to slavers just because they paid the highestprice. Hell, Lara had ended up holding his corner in a street fight with agroup of potential "investors" who just couldn't take no for ananswer.

There was more to Riley than he wanted the world to believe andthat was what kept her hooked. She'd see flashes of it once in a while, cracksin his armour that he either didn't notice or hoped she'd be too blind to see.It might just be a single sentence, or a gesture every once in a while, but itwas enough to tell Lara that no matter what she had thought about him at thestart, she might have misjudged Simon Riley after all.

There were other emotions there too and truth be told, Laratried her hardest to push them back most days. At times when she felt as far aspossible from her family and friends, Riley was often a friend who understoodher, a zero judgement drinking partner who seemed to see the pain driving herto drink away her sorrows and know enough not to mention it. He had been anescape of sorts, one that she had indulged in a little too deeply in a momentof drunken vulnerability. They hadn't slept together, far from it in fact, butshe distinctly could remember pressing him up against an alleyway wall outsideChora's Den, her biotics pulsing through her skin as they'd made out like acouple of teenagers. Riley had promised back then that she wouldn't be able tostay away forever, whilst Lara had invested all of her energy into making sureit never happened again.

Until now of course, when she's sitting on her living roomfloor, back pressed against one of the couches. She's filled with the warmth ofthe whisky they've shared, her cardigan long discarded in a clumsy pile besideher. Opposite, Riley sits legs outstretched, his back resting against anarmchair. His face is set in a smile, dark eyes watching her in a way she can'tquite decipher.

 "So... where'd you get the shiner?" Her wordspunctuate the comfortable silence around them and she takes another sip of herdrink, savouring the slow burn at the back of her throat.

"Defending the honour of a school bus full of kids,obviously."

"Bullshit. Schoolkids don't pay enough."

"Ouch." He laughs, soft lines crinkling at thecorner of his eyes. Lara has given up trying to tell herself that he isn'thandsome at this point. "Some bloke just got a lucky shot in, nothing moreto it than that."

"I hope you made him regret it."

"That your way of telling me you care, Bones?" Heraises an eyebrow, that self satisfied smirk that is damn near characteristicof him now pushing across his features.

"Please. I'm just too lazy to find myself anotherdrinking buddy."

"Uh huh."She knows that the arrogant bastard doesn't believe her for a second."Y'know, while I was away, there was this asari bird in the crew I wasrunning with. Had a mean singularity that could crush its way through anyfucking armour. She was fuckin' beautiful, knew it too. Half the crew werepractically creaming themselves whenever she was around."

"And you're telling me this because?"

"Because even with that kind of grade A distractionparading around in front of my face, I barely fucking noticed." He shrugs,placing his whisky glass down on the coffee table with a gentleness that shedidn't know he possessed. "... Even when there's this fuckin'... asari sexgoddess right there... I'm still hung up on this Alliance bird who can't seemto decide if I disgust her or not."

Well shit.

Suddenly the whisky wasn't the only thing making her feelwarm. For a second, Lara pauses, lost in the meaning of what he's trying tosay. She feels displaced, the jolt from gentle teasing and joking to somethinga little more serious making her head spin. She's known for a long while thatRiley found her attractive, but up until now she'd always assumed that he sawher as a conquest, a box to tick, another notch to add to his bed post. She'snever actually considered that he might value her... more than that?

"... It's you, Lara."

"And I'm not looking for a one-night deal."

"If I was looking for that I would have tried my luckwith the sex goddess." A smile,thank God. Lara feels a soft laugh escape her lips, grateful for his joke.She watches him carefully as he sits up, crawling towards her until all thatseparates them are a few inches. He reaches out, with fingers that trace up theside of her neck and come to rest just beneath her jaw. "Look... I'm notexactly proposing marriage, Bones. But, I like you. Give me some credit here,yeah?"

Lara entertains every response imaginable in that moment.She considers making a bad joke, thinks about teasing him with the fact thatshe'd likely never dare trust him with her credits. She toys even with the ideaof pulling away, of giving herself space and time for the rational, overlycautious part of her brain to dream up some more reasons about why she shouldstill hold Riley at arm’s length.

 But it all means nothing when she leans just that little bitcloser and presses her lips against his.

She's done being afraid.

The kiss is slower than what they've shared before, but itstill has the same intensity. Riley kisses her back immediately, the hand onher jaw moving to cup the entire side of her face, whilst his other hand movesto her shoulder. Their mouths fall into a quick rhythm, open mouthed kissesfuelling them onwards as their bodies press closer. Lara's hands wind upunderneath Riley's shirt, her fingers slipping across a back littered withscars whilst he sucks at her bottom lip. She lets out a gentle gasp, feels himsmirk against her skin as he ducks his head lower, kissing and sucking at herneck in way that promises plenty of purple bruises of her own in the morning.

As he pushes her backwards, lifting her t shirt so that hecan press feverish kisses to her abdomen, Lara finds herself trusting him morethan she'd ever imagined possible. Somehow, in this moment, she is allowing himto be utterly in control, an alien feeling that brings with it a deep sense ofcomfort.

It doesn't matter who she thought Simon Riley was. Doesn'tmatter if he's running from a past just as dark as hers. It doesn't matter thathe's a mercenary and she's a soldier, that in her heart she knows that he issupposed to represent everything she's been taught to despise. Because, despiteit all, Lara likes Riley. Trusts him. Cares about him as the friend he hasshown himself to be. The man that deep down, she knows that he is.

She's spent over a decade in service to the Alliance, mouldingher life around its every demand and whim. Living by its morals, shapingherself to represent the ideal that it presented to all of its recruits. Andyet in the end, the Alliance chewed her up and robbed her of everything thathad truly mattered.

There's no way in hell she's letting anyone rob her of this.Least of all herself.

[musicfeedsthesoul]

So, as I posted yesterday about my future here, I’m posting the tutorial I promised! It took me a long while to figure out how to get a Weibo account as an international fan--so I thought if I am not going to continue to share the images, videos, and such of the boys from there to here the way I was, then I could teach all of you HOW to get your own account so you can see them for yourselves!

Thank you for all of your love and support!

The tutorial is long and detailed with images...if I missed anything or you run into any trouble, let me know and I will do my best to help you! I’m no expert AT ALL but I’m good with technology, that’s all.

Feel free to share so others can use this, and of course it’s not strictly useful for Hey! Say! JUMP fans as there are tons of great resources on there! In fact, PLEASE do share this--because it has so many links in it, Tumblr will kick the post off the search pages as “spam” so the way others will see it is through sharing! (if it gets enough attention it will appear in the “popular” search section despite the links, but never in the “recent” because of the links)

First of all--Weibo requires you to give them a CELL PHONE NUMBER that can receive texts. Now, I know that a lot of people will kinda freak out about giving your cell phone number to a company you don’t know! I used my cell phone number and haven’t had any issues with it at all--but I hear you loud and clear, that can feel pretty risky--so to achieve an account on Weibo without giving your PERSONAL phone number away here is my solution.

Right now I can only provide this solution to those who live in the United States--as while I *know* there are workaround solutions for other countries to get a number--that is outside of my comfortable level of knowledge! So for this part, it will apply only to those who have a US based cell phone number.

Create a Google Voice phone number and use it.

Visit Google’s account page to get a Google account if you do not already have one.

Click on the drop down menu to select “create account”--if you already have an account then please log into it

Fill out the information requested--it’s okay if you’re not planning to keep this account! When you hit “next step” you’ll have to agree to the terms of use for Google--click the arrow button and agree.

Once you are logged into your account, whether new or old, go to Google Voice’s page:

You’ll come up to this page:

Click on the “Get Google Voice” button and it will create this screen:

I set mine up on “web” so I am not sure what happens with the other platforms but it probably won’t be too big of a difference if you select one of the others. The next page says the following:

You can honestly choose to get a number from ANYWHERE you want in the US...which can be pretty fun. I just clicked NYC because it was at the top lol

It will give you three numbers to choose from or you can “Load More” to get additional choices. Pick a number you want...I didn’t care so picked the top one:

Once you select the number this prompt appears--yes, you will give them your phone number, and no it’s nothing to be concerned with. I have had a Google Voice number for nearly five years and NEVER had any issues with them using my number for anything bad--so click “next”.

It will ask you to enter your cell phone number, they will send a text message to you with a six digit code. Apart from if you are using your Google Voice number for REAL things, this will be the only time you will get any notifications from them. Enter your number and then click “Send Code”

It will pop up with a window asking you to enter the code, enter the six digit code and click verify. I’ve never had any issues with the code not arriving, but if you do you can prompt it to resend the code on this screen as well.

If everything went as planned when you click “Finish” you’ll see this screen:

Click “Got it” and it will take you into your Google Voice account:

Soooo...now you are all set with a new Google Voice number. I hate the new GV interface so I always change my preferences to the Legacy version. If you’d like to do that here’s how--click the three lines next to “Google Voice”. Then select “Legacy Google Voice”.

It will open the Legacy interface in a new window, so just close the original window.

Okay so now you have a “safe” number to sign up for Weibo! Let’s get started on creating your Weibo account! WOOT!

This is Weibo’s INTERNATIONAL sign up page. <--DO NOT GO TO THE NORMAL WEIBO PAGE! It’s important you use THIS page to sign up for your account if you are an international fan! This page allows you to select your country code!

I’ll be honest, I have the Google Translate extension applied to my Chrome Browser (you can get it through the extensions shop for free) so I ALWAYS click the translate button to better understand what I’m seeing. It’s not perfect but it will give you the general idea of what’s needed. On the above page you’re going to enter your number, either your GV number or your normal cell phone number. You’ll need to use the drop down tab next to it to select your country code! If these do not translate for you, click on the dropdown and then hit “translate this page” again! If for some reason you can’t see them in a language you can understand let me know! I can take a pic of them for you.

Set your number and then pick a password. then select to have the activation code sent to you. Once you verify the activation code you’ll see this screen:

Enter the information being sure to put your correct location--if you are “overseas” it will look like this--the secondary dropdown will change so you can choose your country:

After you click the button on the bottom this screen will appear:

Choose a few here, and then hit enter--you can unfollow these later and honestly, I can’t remember despite just doing this if this is mandatory or not, so it’s possible you can skip it. Once you hit enter the following screen will appear and you’re gonna be like “OMG THAT WAS SO EASY!!!!”

Riiight...lol no, really, now...THIS IS WHERE IT GETS KINDA CRAZY so take a deep breath. As soon as you click on anything on that screen the following will happen:

Hmm...What? I know, but don’t panic, really, just say “I know”. It’s gonna change the page you’re on--mind changes to us.weibo.com/gb, and it looks like this:

I’m thinking it will change the “us” on the url to whatever country YOU entered into your registration information. At any rate, THIS is the page to bookmark so you can login in the future (and seriously, bookmark it cause it’s a complete *(&*( to find later when you forget how simple it is!)

Tap the “Login” button in the right hand corner:

AH! This is good, right? Enter your phone number you signed up with! MAKE SURE YOU ENTER THE NUMBER WITH YOUR COUNTRY CODE!

Do not use any symbols! Enter the number like this (my country code is 001)

0011234567890

If you put spaces, symbols, or don’t enter the country code you’re going to get an error. 

Once you correctly enter the number and password the page will basically look the same except it will show you logged in as your new user name where the login button was before. 

Right, but this is NOT the Weibo you’ve heard tales of with the rich wealth of fandom goodies awaiting your sighs and fangirling mayhem...fair enough: 

It’s all good! Just click your user name!

Voila! You’re now inside the coveted realm of WEIBO!

If you want to use the site in English you’ll need to make the following adjustments; Click the little cog icon to go to your settings page. It’s nearly impossible to get that box to translate but it doesn’t matter, just pick any of the drop down items!

On that page click on “Preferences” and then you will click on “Language Settings”

Then select “English”

Now, I don’t set mine for English to be honest because it doesn’t actually translate EVERYTHING into English! Instead, like I mentioned before I set my Google Translate to automatically translate each page. I’m not gonna lie, Google Translate sucks MAJORLY at translating Chinese. Like, not even kidding, it’s bad lol but you can generally get some idea of what’s being said, and there are some really good translation sites out there if you need a better translation. My favorite is this one: Chinese Translation

To find your fandom (I’m using HSJ as my base but I feel like other international fans might appreciate this too! In that case just do your fandom here!) Put your fandom in the search and a dropdown will populate with some options

Put your fandom in the search and a dropdown will populate with some options

You want to choose the top option “related microblogging”

Now, you can search for each member, and any other key words you’d like. The page is pretty self explanatory...but here’s how to create your feed--click on a person who posts things you like, on their name or profile picture either one and it will take you to their page: 

Okay, so what’s on this page is this, if you want to be able to see this person’s post on your feed just click the orange button. (When it’s translated I think it’s something about “attention”) It will create a pop-up that will allow you place the person into a group. 

Okay, so if you haven’t created any groups (I only have a Jump group)--then you’ll need to click the button with the + sign on it. Enter your group name and then create. Then click the orange button on the bottom to add the person to your feed.

Another feature of a person’s page to be aware of is this:

See the tabs that say “All” and “Popular”?  A lot of times it defaults to “Popular” which means you are only seeing the posts the person made that has received a lot of notice. I always immediately click “All” so I can see their most recent posts as well.

Ah...what else is there? OH, you can follow “topics” as well. So like, obviously, I’m going to follow Ryosuke’s topic:

To get to a super topic click on one of the links in anyone’s post that matches the person you want to follow:

So I’ll click on Yuto’s tag there and it will take me to his super topic page:

To add this to my feed I’ll push the +Attention button on the right.

To SEE your feed: click on the Weibo symbol on whatever page you’re on:

And then this menu will be on the left side of the page:

Your groups will be listed there--again I only have Jump--so if I click on it then it will show my feed that shows me ALL of the posts from the people and topics I have followed.

I’m sure there are some other details that would be helpful, and if you think of any you’d like me to add here just let me know and I’ll update this post.

For now, here’s some of my favorite Weibo users to get you started!!! 

Please note: A lot of the users there do not mind sharing of their scans and works, others are very particular about it and do not allow sharing. Now I know there’s nothing that they can do to stop you from taking their scans and sharing them BUT please consider being respectful of their wishes. PLEASE check the op’s page before you bring their scans out of Weibo because some ABSOLUTELY DO NOT ALLOW their scans to be shared. Others will sometimes say “no sharing” on certain posts, and otherwise they don’t mind, and then some of them do not mind people using their scans and sharing them with credit--and seriously, don’t be “that guy” who shares them and doesn’t give credit. You’re not losing anything other than my respect if you do that and most people will know the truth even if you don’t admit it. 

So here’s a few of my favorites!

山田千寻chihiro <--Ryosuke’s Older Sister

Johnnys_web官方 <--official Weibo account

MoMozzz32 <--if you only follow one person this is it! They’ve been around for ages and offers HQ scans that can be used for art and sharing (always give credit please!)

你难道是个傻瓜吗

gillist

光希Mitsuki_蜜桃熊...

-NASU-

柒斯Cake

sumomo彡

aliceceee <--one of my dearhearts here on Tumblr too!

Ranccho

susanfan0706

_碳菇凉凉凉凉介

[ursafilms]

Chapter 4 - Is That a Knife?

Roger Davenport became an official resident of lower Manhattan, when he moved his belongings into an apartment at 90 John Street, the Thursday before Memorial Day. The building sat on a narrow street between Pearl and Gold, and had a spectacular view of another apartment building.

The sounds of construction work filled southern Manhattan, John Street being no exception. Roger spent most of the day getting settled; dodging cement trucks and getting redirected through a series of detours by a collection of unhappy police officers. The pathway to and from his apartment resembled a Tetris game, with the pieces represented by backhoes, mini-bulldozers, and barricades constantly on the move.

The last of Roger’s boxes got dropped off on the Friday before the start of the Memorial Day weekend. He’d missed most of the latter part of the workweek with the move. Gary Kaplan gave him the time off, and Roger needed it because like most Manhattanites he had become very insular in his previous neighborhood, the Upper West Side. His geographical illiteracy outside of UWS, as it was called, had him taking longer to find grocery stores and set up cable and internet and other services. He knew little about the world below Lincoln Center; East of Central Park; and North of Zabar’s.

He spoke with his boss about the area of southern Manhattan as he sat in a rented barca-lounger and looked at the large open floor plan detailing the 10thfloor of 90 John Street. The apartment he occupied.

“You’ll figure it out, Roger,” said Gary. “After all you figured out the Upper West Side. How long did that take? Only four or five . . . years?”

“That’s funny, chief.”

“Come on. It is on the same island as the Upper West Side. It has bars and restaurants and grocery stores,” said Gary. “At least I think it does. I understand they’re getting television reception there next year.”

Gary heard nothing for a moment, except Roger pushing things around his new apartment.

“Look, Roger,” he said. “Another employee used Google Earth to help them get used to a new place in an unfamiliar part of the country. I’m sure it can aid with southern Manhattan.”

“Google Earth?” He asked. “How did that help?”

Roger got out of the barca-lounger and walked the obstacle course from the living room into the small clubman kitchen. He managed to find the coffee maker during his first feeble attempt at unpacking. He poured another cup, which he would have to drink black until he found a grocery store.

“She said it gave her a more realistic idea of the locale. Where things actually were in relation to her new apartment. Was the grocery store really just down the block, or did she have to go around something to get to it? Was there something closer that might be easier to deal with, but might be more expensive.” Gary continued. “Google Earth gives you the terrain along with a lot of the businesses and subway and bus stops. It’s updated constantly. Not just the photography, but if something new opens, Google isn’t far behind in getting the information onto the application.”

“When did you become such an expert?” Asked Roger as he sucked down the coffee. “God, this is awful.”

“What?”

“Black coffee. I really do have to find a grocery store. Go on.”

“It’s easy to use, Roger. For a creative guy who has an awfully good grasp of so many digital tools, you can be a Luddite.”

“Okay, Gary,” said Roger. “I’ll give it a go. I just have to some of these boxes unpacked and I’ll open up the laptop and take a look.”

“Good,” said Gary. “Call me back if you can’t find Wall Street. I’m pretty sure I know where it is.”

“Not helping.”

“No?”

“No.”

Gary ended the call. Roger walked over to the sink; moved an unopened box out of it; and tossed the remainder of the coffee into the drain.

“Google Earth? Ah, what the heck,” he said as he watched the liquid disappear.

Roger negotiated the obstacle course back towards the barca-lounger. Along the way he gathered up his work backpack and pulled the laptop out of it. He signed in and a bright Red, White and Blue graphic flashed onto the proclaiming the advent of the Memorial Day Holiday and just around the corner, The Fourth of July break as well. Digital reminders that every year for the past 15, he, Patricia and however many kids they had at whatever age they were, ventured down to Cape May, New Jersey to spend both Memorial and Independence Days with his parents and his sister. This year that would not happen, unless they settled things by the 4thof July.

“That is unlikely,” he said to the screen in front of him.

Memorial Day and Independence Day were also the anniversaries of his wedding and engagements to Patricia Davenport nee Hitchcock, respectively.

Another twinge and Roger hit the space bar to clear the screen. He opened a browser and typed in www.googleearth.com. Which did not work, but did redirect him to the company’s main page with a helpful instruction to type Google Earth into the search bar.

And received the requisite message informing him he’d have to download the application, and a Pro version would be available as well . . . for a small fee.

He clicked on the link and it took him to the page where he could download Google Earth. Roger did as instructed and had the icon on his desktop in minutes. He double-clicked on it.

Seconds later the big blue marble of planet Earth spun in front of him. He put the address of 90 John Street in the search window. It gave him the view from over the top of his building and displayed about 16 square blocks of the immediate neighborhood.

If anything could be called square in southern Manhattan. People told Roger, when they found out where he moved that the charm of the Wall Street area existed in the fact that nothing laid out in a grid. It was an old Dutch village and still retained some of the cobblestone streets; blind alleys; and narrow thoroughfares of the original settlement.

“Yes,” he said again to the screen. “Very charming. No straight lines. Dead-ends. Ankle-twisting cobblestones. Charming indeed.”

He opened another browser window and did a standard Google search for ‘Grocery Stores near me.’ A Jubilee had just opened down the block right on John Street and the same for a Gristede's a few blocks away on Cedar. As if he had any idea where Cedar Street sat in relation to John, but that’s what Google Earth was going help him wi—

Then he saw it, or saw him, rather. Over on a street called Theater Alley, northeast of his apartment. The search window on his laptop just large enough to show a section of the grid that boasted of a grocery store called Brother Food Vendor on Ann Street.

When Roger moved over to take a closer look by zooming in on Ann Street, the location of the store, he did a double take. On Theater Alley, which runs perpendicular to Ann, he saw the figure of a man leaning over someone.

Roger increased the size of the image on screen to get more detail. He refreshed the browser, which is a mistake, because it took him all the way back out to a 10,000 foot view. He quickly hit the ‘+’ on the application screen until he’s back down to the level where Theater Alley is dominating the upper left corner of the interface.

He pulled his screen in the northeast direction and hit the “+” button again. A person is bent over a prostrate figure, half of who is lying on the curb and half in the street on Theater Alley. A knife, identifiable even by its blurry profile . . . is raised above the assailant’s head.

The person is in mid-strike. The body language is more forward then backward. A thin grayish streak shows underneath the assailant. It must be the victim’s blood. The attacker has already stabbed his prey.

“I read something about this. Google Earth had captured a murder on the streets of Berlin. It turned out to be just an assault, but the image did help the police capture the criminal.”

While talking to himself, Roger does a search. He is looking for a number for Google Earth or Google. Nothing. At least nothing readily apparent. He does not want to call the police. They would never believe him.

He wipes his forehead with the back of his left wrist. Roger is sweating. He searches again for a call center. Nothing at Google. Not even a 1-800 number.

He wants to save the image as evidence, but Roger can’t remember the method of screen capture. It’s a simple series of keystrokes but it has flown out of his head. It is something he has done a hundred times for work, and yet it is now gone.

Roger exhales; tosses a few boxes and articles of clothing out of his way; and picks up the land line in his apartment. He dials 911.

“911. What is the nature of your emergency?” The dispatcher, a woman, asks.

“I’m witnessing a murder,” he blurts out before he can think.

“Where is this taking place, sir?” The dispatcher asks.

“Uh, Theater Alley. Just north of Ann Street,” he replies.

“What is your name, please?”

“Uh, I’d really prefer not to give it.” Roger replies. “I’m really not sure what I’m looking at.”

“Hold, please,” she says.

Roger paces around the apartment. He squeezes the handset repeatedly.

“Please don’t trace this call,” he says out loud. “I will hang up this phone and dash over to Theater Alley myself.”

He reaches towards the ‘End’ button, when a voice comes on the phone.

“Detective Cooper, homicide.”

The voice is New York, born and raised. Bronx.

“Detective Cooper, HOMICIDE!”

“I’m sorry, Detective,” says Roger. He pauses, until he hears heavier breathing coming from Detective Cooper. “This is Mike Williams. I believe I’m looking at a homicide on Google Earth.”

“A homicide on Google Earth?” Asks Detective Cooper. “What’s that mean, Mister Williams? Google Earth?”

“I was doing a search of my neighborhood. Looking for grocery stores. I, uh, just moved in.”

“Where do you live Mister Williams?” Asks Cooper.

Roger reaches for the ‘End’ button again. But stops.

“Please, detective, I’m not sure what this is,” says Davenport.

Cooper turns and motions to his partner, Dave Acheson, who is standing at the door of the detective’s office. He has an unlit cigarette in his mouth. Cooper puts the handset under his chin and scratches out “Google Earth and Theater Alley, NYC” on a notepad. He extends it to Acheson, who walks over to Cooper’s desk.

The detective, Cooper’s longtime partner, mimes a question mark in the air in front of him. Cooper says nothing and stares at him. Cooper makes the police sign for a trace. Acheson leaves the office. He sits at a desk in the interior of the floor and runs the program for a trace of his desktop computer. A policeman behind Acheson dons a headset. He lifts his right hand and makes a one handed clapping motion, the sign for Cooper to keep talking.

“We’re not finding anything here, Mister Williams,” says Cooper, just enough sarcasm when he says ‘Williams’ to set off Roger’s alarms, “You should tell me what this is really about?”

Roger has hung up.

“Did we get an address?” He yells across the room.

“Sorry, Dennis, not on the line long enough.” The policeman wearing a headset yells back.

“We have got to get better at this,” says Cooper, in the direction of the officer with the headset.

“Oh yeah?” Replies the officer. “Well, maybe you should think to ask for the trace earlier? Maybe that’s something you should get better at?”

There’s an escalation of shouting in the room, before someone says something along the lines of, “Yeah, maybe you should all kiss my –“ Cooper slams the door to his office and cuts off the noise coming from the precinct bullpen.

***

Roger returned the phone to its charger. The image of the murder, if that’s indeed what it is, has disappeared from his laptop. He sits in the Barcalounger and looks out at the apartment building across the way.  The home he shared with Patricia, Tyler and Max had a view of Riverside Park. A tear filled his right eye. He pressed the palm of his hand to it.

Roger fully extends the Barcalounger, and looks at the newly painted ceiling. It is the last thing he remembers before falling asleep.