#sample from mars

[maeamian]

Becoming deeply radicalized against the idea of crewed Mars missions, y'know how the Rovers keep sending back better and better data what if instead of that we made an even bigger one and devoted nearly 90% of its capacity to holding a guy in a bubble on top of it instead of sending back useful data, but wait! They'll eliminate like a half hour of latency and also almost certainly contaminate the landing site and possibly the entire planet, so it's not all downside.

[animemusicbrackets]

for the bracket, are songs using Synthesizer V vocals allowed? i know you said that utau was alright, but i just wanted to make sure before i put my submission in

yes synthesizer v is fine to submit

[michaelgabrill]

NASA to Explore Two Landing Options for Returning Samples from Mars

To maximize chances of successfully bringing the first Martian rock and sediment samples to Earth for the benefit of humanity, NASA announced Tuesday a new approach to its Mars Sample Return Program. The agency will simultaneously pursue two landing architectures, or strategic plans, during formulation, encouraging competition and innovation, as well as cost and schedule […] from NASA https://ift.tt/Kih0NYT

[kaijuno]

Doorbell camera footage captures first-ever sound of a meteorite hitting Earth as it struck couple’s home

Joe and Laura Velaidum found grey dust scattered outside their house on Prince Edward Island on a summers day last year, which left them rather puzzled.

Upon checking the security footage of their home, they were left shocked after watching a clip that appears to show a rock falling out of the sky and crashing to the ground in close proximity to their home. Take a look here:

Amazed by their discovery, Joe and Laura decided to collect samples of the rock and sent it off to the University of Alberta for further inspection.

Chris Herd, who is the curator of the university’s meteorite collection, was able to confirm where their rock had come from.

And to much excitement of space enthusiasts out there, Herd said the samples had indeed come from outer space.

“As the first and only meteorite from the province of Prince Edward Island, the Charlottetown Meteorite sure announced its arrival in a spectacular way," he told CBC.

“No other meteorite fall has been documented like this, complete with sound. It adds a whole new dimension to the natural history of the Island.”

The expert added: "It’s really awesome. It’s actually the first and only meteorite ever found on the Island, and what a way to make that discovery.

“Every time that this happens, it’s a new sample from space. It’s from the asteroid belt… between Mars and Jupiter, so it’s come a long way.”

Herd went on to tell CBC that meteorites typically travel at around 60,000 kmph (37,280 mph) before slowing down as they approach normal civilisation.

Therefore, the rock likely hit the ground at a speed of 200 kmph (124 mph), according to the expert.

[deep-space-netwerk]

So Venus is my favorite planet in the solar system - everything about it is just so weird.

It has this extraordinarily dense atmosphere that by all accounts shouldn't exist - Venus is close enough to the sun (and therefore hot enough) that the atmosphere should have literally evaporated away, just like Mercury's. We think Earth manages to keep its atmosphere by virtue of our magnetic field, but Venus doesn't even have that going for it. While Venus is probably volcanically active, it definitely doesn't have an internal magnetic dynamo, so whatever form of volcanism it has going on is very different from ours. And, it spins backwards! For some reason!!

But, for as many mysteries as Venus has, the United States really hasn't spent much time investigating it. The Soviet Union, on the other hand, sent no less than 16 probes to Venus between 1961 and 1984 as part of the Venera program - most of them looked like this!

The Soviet Union had a very different approach to space than the United States. NASA missions are typically extremely risk averse, and the spacecraft we launch are generally very expensive one-offs that have only one chance to succeed or fail.

It's lead to some really amazing science, but to put it into perspective, the Mars Opportunity rover only had to survive on Mars for 90 days for the mission to be declared a complete success. That thing lasted 15 years. I love the Opportunity rover as much as any self-respecting NASA engineer, but how much extra time and money did we spend that we didn't technically "need" to for it to last 60x longer than required?

Anyway, all to say, the Soviet Union took a more incremental approach, where failures were far less devastating. The Venera 9 through 14 probes were designed to land on the surface of Venus, and survive long enough to take a picture with two cameras - not an easy task, but a fairly straightforward goal compared to NASA standards. They had…mixed results.

Venera 9 managed to take a picture with one camera, but the other one's lens cap didn't deploy.

Venera 10 also managed to take a picture with one camera, but again the other lens cap didn't deploy.

Venera 11 took no pictures - neither lens cap deployed this time.

Venera 12 also took no pictures - because again, neither lens cap deployed.

Lotta problems with lens caps.

For Venera 13 and 14, in addition to the cameras they sent a device to sample the Venusian "soil". Upon landing, the arm was supposed to swing down and analyze the surface it touched - it was a simple mechanism that couldn't be re-deployed or adjusted after the first go.

This time, both lens caps FINALLY ejected perfectly, and we were treated to these marvelous, eerie pictures of the Venus landscape:

However, when the Venera 14 soil sampler arm deployed, instead of sampling the Venus surface, it managed to swing down and land perfectly on….an ejected lens cap.

[nasa]

Space Rocks!🤘But Also ️Space Rocks!☄️

Asteroids: they’re ancient, rocky, and way cooler than you might think. June 30 is International Asteroid Day, a global event to raise awareness about asteroids and what we’re doing to study them. Here’s why we’re obsessed with them (and why you should be, too).

What are asteroids?

Asteroids are leftover building blocks from the early solar system, orbiting the Sun like planetary time capsules. Most hang out in the main asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter, but some—called Near-Earth Objects, or NEOs—orbit closer to home. They range in size from 329 miles (530 kilometers) in diameter to less than 33 feet (10 meters) across.

Why do we study them?

Studying asteroids helps us unlock the origins of our solar system. 

In 2023, our OSIRIS-REx mission collected a sample from asteroid Bennu that could reveal whether asteroids delivered water and other ingredients for life when they collided with Earth billions of years ago.

Lucy in the sky…with asteroids? Our Lucy mission, which launched in 2021, is named for a fossilized skeleton of a human ancestor, which was in turn named for the Beatles song “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.” Lucy is the first mission to explore asteroids that share an orbit around the Sun with Jupiter.

A timelapse of the asteroid Donaldjohanson taken on NASA’s Lucy spacecraft. The images, captured approximately every 2 seconds beginning at 1:50 p.m. EDT April 20, 2025, show a white, irregular, elongated shape rotating slowly. Its surface is covered in small craters and has a rough, uneven texture. The asteroid appears bright against a black background. Credit: NASA/Goddard/SwRI/Johns Hopkins APL

What if an asteroid hits Earth?

NASA’s Planetary Defense Program uses telescopes to keep an eye out for asteroids and other NEOs, in case any get too close for comfort. Although a catastrophic collision is highly unlikely for the next 100 years or more, the telescopes detect smaller objects on a collision course with Earth a few times per year. No need to worry—these objects are just a few feet (meters) in size and cause no damage.

Rock on!

Hungry for more? Check out our asteroid portal for a cosmic crash course, or explore a real-time visualization of every known asteroid and comet classified as an NEO with NASA’s Eyes on Asteroids app.  

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Gackt - Vanilla 1999

Gackt is a Japanese singer-songwriter, musician, record producer and actor. He has been active since 1993, first as the frontman of the short-lived independent band Cains:Feel, and in 1995-1998 the visual kei rockband Malice Mizer, before starting his solo career in 1999. He has released nine studio albums and, with forty-eight singles released, holds the male soloist record for most top ten consecutive singles in Japanese music history. Besides being established in the modern entertainment industry and a pop icon, Gackt's music has been used as theme songs for video games, video game films, anime series/films, and television series. In addition to his music career, Gackt has acted and voice acted, including characters inspired by him in video games like Bujingai and Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII. He also provided the voice samples for the Vocaloid software Gackpoid.

Gackt released his second single "Vanilla", from his first full-length studio album Mars (2000), on August 11, 1999. "Vanilla" is one of his most popular and commercially successful songs. It peaked at number four on the Oricon Singles Chart and charted for ten weeks. With 248,360 copies sold, it was the 89th best-selling single of the year, and it was certified Gold by RIAJ. The single was later re-released in 2002. It charted for six weeks, reaching number twelve. "Vanilla" is a favourite among fans, particularly because of a live performance from Gackt's Mars tour, which contained a large amount of fanservice with Masa, his guitarist at the time.

"Vanilla" received a total of 72,5% yes votes!

[comatosebunny09]

risky | sylus

warning(s): cheating, p-in-v, female anatomy described, cunnilingus, hurt feelings, mutual pining, emotional sex, profanity, praise, not proofread, sylus is ooc & 🐱 drunk notes: i'm stuck on the dancer au, so here you go. i'm sorry, i'm not sorry. thank you for reading! ❤️❤️❤️ music inspo: die with a smile - lady gaga & bruno mars

“This is wrong,” you pant.

Yet you make no effort to fend him off as he hefts you onto your kitchen counter. How easily he slots himself between your thighs, tugging you closer by the crooks of your knees, and he siphons your breath with a kiss that leaves you reeling.

Breaking the seal of your mouths, he drags his lips down your chin, the side of your jaw. Open-mouthed, teeth scraping, nipping, claiming.

“I know.”

You don’t pose a fight when his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt, and he tugs it overhead, discarding it somewhere on your tiled floor. His mouth is on you in an instant once more, drawing pathetic little whimpers from betwixt your lips.

Your hands roost on his shoulders. You’re angling your head back, eyes shuttered, lips parted. Bowing into him, the hard press of his body grazing along the pucker of your nipples.

You don’t know if you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer. You want him to stop, but you don’t in the same breath. This game of push and pull is dizzying, much like the heat he exudes and the reverent glide of his hands along your skin.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” pinched from your lungs when his teeth acquaint themselves with your neck.

“I know.”

Your fingers find his hair. You comb through riotous locks of white, your mind a muddled mess, trained only to sensations and the sounds of his labored breaths intermingling with yours.

“It’ll destroy her if she finds out,” you say.

As if you both don’t know what’s at stake. The repercussions of being together like this when all he’d wanted to do was return your shoes to you.

Sylus halts his assault on your throat. He draws back slightly, eyes lidded, irises smoldering like the sunset against the ocean line. His mouth hangs open as he pants, brows furrowed. He looks something like a spoiled child, and you bite back an impulse to snicker at how adorable he is in this moment.

He presses your foreheads together, gazing down at your lips. Fights an internal battle of his own as you knead his scalp, his thumbs easing over the crease of your thighs.

“I know.” A hint of anguish resides in his husky voice. Regret swims in the under-notes. But he’s too far gone.

You both are.

And you know there’s no turning back when he hauls you into his arms again after a beat of searching each other’s eyes. Wraps your thighs around his hips, and your arms unconsciously snake around his shoulders. You pepper his neck and jaw with frantic kisses whilst he walks you to your bedroom.

Once inside, he tenderly lays you amongst your sheets, and he’s silhouetted by the coppery glow of the moon when he pitches back to rid himself of his shirt.

He’s reminiscent of something beastly when he prowls over you. Pelvis fits like a jigsaw piece between your legs, and he sweeps in to kiss you anew.

He ruts himself against the apex of your thighs. Growls low and throaty into your mouth. You don’t deter him, your heels finding the divots of his back, stitching him to you.

Sylus drags his lips southward towards your collarbones, and you ruck your hips up against him, tossing your head back when he finds a pebbled nipple and licks it into his mouth. He pays the same homage to the other, and his eyes find yours through the lustful haze of your bedroom.

You can’t look away when he eases down the sprawl of your body. Kisses and licks, tastes and samples. Tugs your sweats and panties down as he settles his face between your legs. And he kisses the inner curve of your thighs, trailing lips at a snail’s pace to the place you crave him most.

You tangle your fingers in his hair. Nod at the silent question his gaze poses, and he needs no further goading when he spreads you nice and open with a flattened tongue.

Your legs quiver, thighs mechanically locking around his ears, your head pitched back in the pillows. He takes his time drawing his name from your lips. And you sing so beautifully for him, that sparkling rush of endorphins slowly brewing between your thighs.

You’re bereft of his mouth when he’s had his fill. When he’s brought you near that slurry edge, but he doesn’t keep you waiting. He peers down at you through his hair that’d fallen into his eyes, sluggishly undoing his belt buckle and the buttons of his trousers.

You watch with bated breath from your elbows. Suck in a breath when he reveals himself, and he’s heavy and swollen and red, his dick bouncing against his abs.

You lick your lips. He’s beautiful. Just like you always imagined he’d be. And somewhere far off, you wonder if she’s seen him like this and pondered the same.

You don’t get more time to mull over it before Sylus grips your thigh, the fat of it cratering between his fingers. He bites his bottom lip as he stickily taps his dick against the milky mess of your pussy.

There’s one final question in his gaze. One last offering, one more out. You don’t contest him. You’ve both come this far. You might just die without having him inside you tonight.

He feeds himself into you. Inch by delicious inch. Catches himself on his hands propped near either side of your head, and he releases a relieved hiss. He feels so good pushing into you like that. Filling you. You wonder what your life was like prior to this point, so drunk off the feel of him nestled deep.

You share a breath out when he’s fully slid home. He bows forward, burying his face into the hollow of your shoulder. You welcome him with open arms. Cross your ankles behind his pelvis, and he knows that he’s done for.

Once you’ve adjusted to his girth, he moves. Slow and steady like the gentle drag of a tide, eliciting pretty sighs of his name from your mouth. Graduates into something more intense, the clop of skin on skin saturating the darkened air of your room.

“You feel so good,” he sighs, all hot, wet, and choppy against your neck.

You can do nothing but moan in reply, sinking your nails into his shoulder blades.

He fucks you like he’ll never see you again. Whispers the sweetest, most vile things against the shell of your ear, and the hot rush of tears spring to your eyes.

Vaguely, you wonder if he’s fucked her like this. If he calls her his good girl, too. If he says he can’t imagine a life without her at his side. That he was so fucking stupid for thinking he could ever give her up.

As a tear scorches down the side of your face, that sparkling rush of ecstasy brews between your legs. And he feels it, too, groaning like a wanton slut through grit teeth as your walls quake around him.

He peels back from the safety of your shoulder to gaze into your eyes. Twines your fingers together overhead, his hips moving purely on instinct now. Your throat constricts around a silent sob, molten tears sliding unbidden down your face.

His mouth parts as you cum, and the world slides into white. You drag him into his own release, hot spurts of cum painting the inner trajectory of your thighs.

When you float back into your skin and breathe, you erupt into a fit of giggles intermingled with sobbing. He laughs alongside you, pressing your foreheads together, settling his weight atop you. His fingers smooth along your cheeks, swiping away your tears, and he stipples your face with apologetic kisses.

And somewhere in the onslaught—maybe it’s your brain all saturated with endorphins playing tricks on you—you could swear you heard him mutter,

I love you.

Sunlight creeps through the slits of your blinds. Bathes the pair of you in yellow, candied stripes, and you stir in the arms wrapped so tenderly around your middle.

Wordlessly, you creep from his embrace, wrapping yourself in a throw you’d snatched from your armchair.

You try to tip-toe to your bathroom to prepare for your day—you’ve got another gig/mission tonight, and you intend to spend the afternoon scoping out the venue—but his raspy voice halts your escape.

“Stay here,” he says, tugging at one end of the throw.

You turn to face him, truly incriminated, and the sight of him makes your chest swell. He’s half-awake, hair unruly, eyes heavy with sleep. Unguarded but needy, and he’s propped on an elbow, giving you a beseeching look.

“Stay with me a little while longer. Please.”

You relent with a forlorn smile curving your lips. Silently crawl back into bed with him, his arms instinctively winding around your hips, tugging you back against the hard press of his body. He settles his chin into the trough of your shoulder, murmuring something incoherent before falling silent.

There’s no harm in staving off the day a little longer. You don’t want to disrupt the spell the night cast over you, and there’s no telling when you’ll get another opportunity like this with him again.

He’ll have to face her—confront this web of muddled feelings—eventually. But you’ll gratefully stay in the circle of his arms like this until that moment comes.

limerence | masterlist

[megalony]

No One Helped- Part 3

Thank you all for the lovely feedback on this little Bobby Nash series, I hope you will all like this next part.

Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05 @creat1venat1onn @devilslittlehelper @darlingcharling-blog @bear8585 @nickie-amore @elliott-calls @person-005 @mbioooo0000 @amara-mars @shypy92 @nikfigueiredo @sabsthedoll

911 taglist: @teenwolfbitches28 @mandmilovehim @jooniesbears-blog @riywasu @amy2265 @buckandeddiesverison @forestsandgrimoires @peteparkersbug @btskzfav

Bobby Nash Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: Following (Y/n)'s injuries, there are repercussions for the 189 station after how they treated her and failed to help. And Captain Harper isn't happy about it.

Enjoy.

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

Reaching out to her left, (Y/n) picked up the small paper cup that reminded her of something that was handed out in shops to give people taste samples of new food. She tipped the cup to her mouth and downed the two little tablets held inside.

Choking the tablets down made her grimace, and she knew that she had another three weeks left of taking these meds. They were to prevent any blood clots and aneurysms which she was prone to after the bleed on her brain. The last thing she needed was any complications that would bring her back here.

She was being discharged from the hospital in a matter of hours, after today she only wanted to be back here for the CT scan she would be due to have before she would be allowed back on shift.

(Y/n) couldn't be on shift while she was on this new medication. It worsened the dizziness she was still experiencing and it made her a liability. If she got knocked over or bumped into or had any other bump to the head she could land herself right back here. And she wasn't feeling well enough to be back to full duties yet anyway.

Once the medication had finished she would have her CT scan which was mandatory for work and if given the all clear, she would be back with her own team next month. Back where she belonged. Back to the team who looked out for her and actually cared for her and her wellbeing. Back with her family.

The team had been up to the hospital yesterday to check in on her and see how she was doing, and (Y/n) knew each of them would be dropping in on her when she was back home. They knew she would be bored not being with them at work, even if she was still feeling tired and disorientated.

(Y/n) tried her best to resist the urge to reach out for her phone and check the time. Knowing what time it was wouldn't help when she didn't have a specific time for when she could go home. All she knew was the nurse would get the discharge papers ready sometime this afternoon.

But (Y/n) was already dressed and her little bag of essentials was packed and waiting to go. She just had to stop by the pharmacy down near reception to get her three weeks worth supply of meds, and then she could be back home. Back to sleeping in her own bed in her own safe place with Bobby.

Bobby would be back soon. He had been at home last night and this morning but he'd messaged to say he wouldn't be long because he knew (Y/n) was desperate to go home. And when he arrived he might be able to sweet talk the nurse into getting the papers done quicker.

Relief bubbled up in (Y/n)'s chest when there was a rapid knock at the door. It wouldn't be Bobby as he wouldn't knock, but it might just be a nurse telling her she could go home now.

She sat up straighter on the bed and her fingers began to drum against her thighs but every inch of her body froze over when the door barged open and she watched who waltzed in.

Captain Harper.

Oh God, why was he here? What did he want? Why had he bothered to come all the way down to the hospital, couldn't he have waited until (Y/n) was discharged and back home or back at her own station? This couldn't be anything good.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed as her nails dug deep enough into her thighs that she started to scratch through her leggings and pierce the skin. Her back straightened up and her elbows imbedded in her waist as she stared at Harper with a mixture of displeasure and unease.

She didn't want to be talking to him. (Y/n) didn't want to be anywhere near Harper, let alone shut in an empty room with him where he might decide to do something rash and use more than just words to get his point across. (Y/n) wouldn't put anything past him.

Her eyes followed Harper as he walked round until he was stood one foot away from her. His arms were folded over his chest and there was a strange, quipped smile on his face as his narrowed eyes bore into (Y/n) like he was searching for something in her expression.

The look made (Y/n) lean back out of instinct and her hands moved to press down into the bed as she tried not to shudder or look too intimidated.

"How are you?"

His question was surprising, but Harper's tone showed he didn't truly care what the answer was. In his mind, she was clearly recovered as she was sat up and alert and talking. Much how he thought she had been after her fall from the truck. He assumed that since she had been talking and just about able to stand on her own two feet, that she was perfectly fine.

(Y/n) looked Harper up and down as her nerves got the better of her and made her shudder. "Recovering. Why are you here?"

There seemed no point beating about the bush and pretending to have a polite conversation. There was clearly a reason that he was here and (Y/n) knew it couldn't be a good one. She wanted to know what he wanted and then get him to leave. She didn't want him here, no matter what was running through his mind.

It was almost fitting that Harper was still in his work uniform when he came to visit her. He was wearing his usual black trousers and dark blue shirt with the station logo in the corner.

"Because I had a visit from the Chief, I'm sure you know why." His tone was sickly sweet and his smile morphed into something frightening as he leaned closer when (Y/n) shook her head.

Trying to feign confusion didn't seem like the right thing to do because Harper's smile faded and his lips curled in clear distaste and aggravation. He took another step until their feet were almost touching and he was close enough to hover over (Y/n) like some kind of angel of death.

"I'm suspended, pending investigation."

There was something dangerous in his sneering tone that made (Y/n) shiver and had her blood dwelling in her stomach rather than going down to her hands and feet. She barely felt like she had any blood going to her head that was filling up with air and becoming too heavy to hold up.

Oh dear.

(Y/n) knew this would happen. Once the Chief came back to speak to her and ran through everything, he explained what would happen next. He said they would do a formal investigation into Harper and his team, they couldn't take this lightly when (Y/n) had been seriously injured. And (Y/n) could file a complaint or a law suit, not that she would, but she had every right so the department had to look into this and do everything by the book.

They were more afraid of Bobby kicking up a stink and filing the complaint than (Y/n) and they knew Bobby would be watching and breathing down their necks. If they didn't do things thoroughly and get evidence of Harper's wrongdoing, Bobby would go and do it himself. And they didn't want that.

She could feel her stomach twisting in knots, threatening to throw up her lunch and her head started to pound and ache when she looked up at Harper. He was glaring at her like she was the Devil, like she was nothing more than an inconvenience that he wanted to get rid of.

"I got hurt on shift, they have to investigate-"

His crude laugh cut off the simple explanation (Y/n) tried to give and made her feel like a child lost in a world she didn't understand.

And the truth was that she didn't understand what this world was. (Y/n) didn't understand why Harper and his team had to be so cruel and petty with her. She didn't see why they had to tease her for who she was in a relationship with when it had no bearing on her work or her ability to do her job. She didn't know why Harper denied her medical attention or why no one in his team thought it fair to try and check her over and make sure she was alright.

There was nothing about that situation that (Y/n) could fathom or understand, and Harper's attitude just made her even more confused and frightened.

"They had to investigate, that's funny." The crooked smirk on his face made him look somewhat like the Grinch and he ran his hand along his jaw as he nodded mockingly. "Especially when some little pet starts telling lies about me and my team."

Lies? Was he being serious?

Clearly Harper didn't know how much trouble he was in and how much damage he had caused (Y/n). She hadn't lied about anything and she had evidence to back herself up. And she figured that Eddison would back her too because he had been the only one on Harper's team who tried to help her, and (Y/n) made that clear when she talked to the Chief.

Eddison was the type who would tell the truth and admit that his team had been wrong and that (Y/n) had been hurt and denied medical attention. He would back (Y/n) up and that would prove her point, along with her injuries and the call she'd made to Bobby saying she had to go home.

She hadn't lied about anything.

(Y/n)'s arms bound around her chest and her jaw dropped as she stared up at Harper, as if waiting for the punchline or for him to explain that he was joking. But he just stared at her like he wanted her to crumble into a million pieces.

"I'm in the hospital, I had surgery, do you still think I'm being dramatic or attention-seeking?"

Could he not see that she was in the hospital? Didn't he realise that if she was simply being dramatic or if nothing was wrong with her, the doctors wouldn't have kept her here. They would have discharged her the moment she was well enough, the fact that she was still here proved she hadn't been seeking attention and making things up.

"I think you got up just fine after your little tumble and you're looking for someone to blame. Or maybe you're trying to help your Captain climb the ladder and bringing me down is the way to do that."

Harper leaned forward until he was close enough that (Y/n) could feel his breaths on her skin and the darkness in his eyes was all that she could focus on. His right hand planted down on the bed beside her hip like he was caging her in and it caused (Y/n) to shuffle back on the bed.

She didn't want to be anywhere near him, she didn't want to be close to him or within his grasp in case he decided to reach out and grab at her. She had no idea what was running through his mind right now or what he might resort to.

She could feel tears welling up in her eyes and her breaths were starting to become fast and shallow.

Couldn't he just leave? Couldn't he give in and tell the truth to the Chief and accept whatever punishment he would be given? Trying to intimidate (Y/n) was only giving her more fuel against him and it wasn't going to make her back down. The damage had already been done and the blame was solely to be laid at Harper's feet, no one else's.

"I had a brain haemorrhage. If I stayed on shift with you I could have gotten permanent damage."

"Don't blame me-"

"You didn't let me get checked out!" Tears cascaded down (Y/n)'s face and trickled onto her jumper as she shuffled back until she could scramble to her feet on the other side of the bed. Keeping the bed in between them for some scrap of safety and security that was quickly beginning to fade.

Her hands planted down on the mattress but her eyes followed Harper as he rounded the end of the bed to try and get in front of her again.

"It's your fault, who else should I blame?" Tremors ran through (Y/n)'s system but her voice came out coarse and brittle.

Who else deserved the blame? Harper was in the wrong, why couldn't he see that? What did he expect her to do? He had denied her help, he would have kept her on shift and made her work until she collapsed or bled around her brain and sent herself into a coma or death. He would have pushed her and kept her on shift and ignored her when she told him she didn't feel okay. This was his doing. Who else was she supposed to blame for the troubles he had created?

Her words infuriated Harper and (Y/n) found more tears drenching her face because he just wouldn't give in. He wouldn't back down, he wouldn't accept the truth. He was still trying to fight her on this when he had no leg to stand on.

"My fault?" He echoed as if her words were complete ludacris and he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

(Y/n) tripped over her feet when Harper stormed towards her and she realised that she had backed herself against the wall. She would have to push past him to get away when the door was across the room, behind Harper.

Another rendition of 'my fault?' seethed past his lips before he was suddenly reaching out for (Y/n).

She raised her arms up in front of her but she gasped when he clutched her wrist and yanked her closer by her arm that twinged in shock and discomfort. Her eyes blew wide and her shoulders pulled in as she tried to hunker down and pull away from him but her body froze in shock when he shoved her back towards the wall and leaned in close.

"I'm not losing my job to some little slut who's clearly trying to sleep her way to the top."

Whatever Bobby assumed he would be walking into when he came to pick (Y/n) up today, it had nothing on the scene he saw when he headed into her room.

He thought she would be sat with her bag, desperately waiting for him to take her home. He assumed she would either be holding her discharge papers or that she would rush up to him when he arrived and beg him to talk to the nurse and take her home.

Not once had the thought of Harper crossed his mind. Bobby hadn't considered walking in to find Harper pinning (Y/n) to the wall and spitting insults at her. Bobby heard what he'd called her, even if he wished he hadn't. He heard, and it infuriated him.

Every muscle in Bobby's body tensed to the point they were threatening to snap in two and it felt like he had cramp all over his body, but it didn't stop him. His boots pounded against the floor as he stormed forward and latched his hands around Harper's shoulders so he could wrench him back.

The action caused (Y/n) to stumble forward and she quickly bound her arms around her waist as fright took over her features when she realised who had entered the room.

She didn't have chance to say anything or take one step before Bobby made his move.

His left hand stayed clenched around Harper's shoulder and as soon as he turned the slightly shorter Captain to face him, Bobby reeled his right arm back and punched him.

(Y/n) had never seen Bobby lash out at anybody before. Once on a call she had seen him raise his voice to someone, and another time she had seen him shout and give someone a shove, but he'd never resorted to violence before. It wasn't who he was. Even when Bobby had every right to be angry and infuriated and upset, he never lashed out like this. He was calm enough to use his words and persuasion, and sometimes a few threats if necessary. But never his fists.

Harper's lower back hit the bedframe when Bobby let go of him and the force of the punch knocked him back. His knees bent out and his elbows slammed into the bed, trying hard to steady himself and prevent from falling onto his backside on the floor.

The way he stared up at Bobby with a slacked jaw and wide eyes was a look that (Y/n) tried to commit to memory, because she had never seen Harper look so uncertain and dumbfounded before. And the little trickle of blood leaving his nose was an added bonus.

When Bobby reached down to try and grab at Harper again, (Y/n) surged forward. She bound her hands around his bicep and bumped into his side until she was almost knocking him onto the floor with how she pushed her weight onto him.

"Bobby don't." Her lips pressed against his shoulder and her hands tightened around his arm that was now pinned against her waist and abdomen.

He could feel her fingers twitching against his skin, moving out of nervous habit and complete panic and Bobby had to steady himself when (Y/n) leaned further on him like her legs were about to give out.

He turned his head to look down at her and a flash of anguish crossed his face when he saw her trembling. He didn't want to upset her, but he didn't want Harper to think he could get away with threatening and calling her like that.

(Y/n) wouldn't have Bobby risk his career for her. He wasn't on duty right now which went in his favour, but he was Captain. He couldn't be seen fighting a colleague, another Captain no less. He could get reprimanded for this and (Y/n) wouldn't have that happen on her behalf. Bobby was the good guy and they didn't need to give Harper any ammunition to use against them.

Harper's hand raised to his nose and he wiped the stream of blood on the back of his hand while his lips curled into a grimace and he huffed as he looked up at Bobby in shock.

"I- I could get you done for this, Nash."

"You look fine to me." (Y/n) couldn't help the snarky tone to her voice or the sneer written across her face. He would be fine, he wasn't injured and for all anyone else knew, they could say he'd had a nosebleed or a little fall.

His threat was hollow and they all knew it, especially Harper as he adverted his gaze down to the floor and continued to sniff and brush his sleeve against his nose.

"What do you think you're doing here?" Each of Bobby's words were punctuated and spat with venom as he stared down at Harper with anguish in his eyes.

Why was he here? Why did he think this was appropriate? He had been suspended, Bobby heard it through the grape vine. And with (Y/n) being the one to accuse him, Harper had no right to be here intimidating her because it only worked in her favour and went against him.

But to be here and actually threatening and trying to intimidate (Y/n) wasn't something Bobby thought Harper would stoop so low to do.

"I was trying to ask her the same thing."

The wind seemed to have disappeared from Harper's sails. His lips curled into a grimace and he looked Bobby up and down like he was trying to build himself up and remain calm and in charge, but he could see this was going to be much harder. He wasn't going to win any fight he picked against Bobby. The suspension was only the beginning of his downfall, he had a long way to go yet.

"Well you shouldn't be here intimidating her, should you?"

The feeling of (Y/n)'s hands tightening on his arm stopped Bobby from trying to wrench his arm back and throwing another fist at Harper. It took all of his effort to unclasp his hands from Harper's shoulders and take a step back.

He found his hands clenching into fists at his sides, fingers continuously flexing and curling to try and rid some of the nervous energy he felt and to regulate his system. Each breath Bobby took was harsh and deep and he could feel his shoulders rising and falling with each breath. If it weren't for (Y/n) still holding onto his arm, he would have lashed out again by now.

"I shouldn't be on suspension either. You think it's fair I lose my credibility over this? Over her?"

The way Harper raised his hand and flung in (Y/n)'s direction made her chest tighten and her teeth sank down into her lower lip to stop herself from making a crude remark in response. He didn't deserve a response or a rise out of (Y/n). She hadn't done anything wrong. Harper didn't deserve any credibility to begin with, he was losing it because of what he had done, not because of anything (Y/n) did.

This was a fallout of what he had caused, he had no one but himself to blame and intimidating (Y/n) wasn't going to make her change her mind. She had already made her complaint. Harper was suspended. This was out of their hands now, it was down to the Chief and the disciplinary team to decide what happens now.

(Y/n) couldn't take any of this back no matter how Harper tried to frighten her and turn her hand.

Something akin to a smile flashed across Bobby's face and his lips quirked as he shook his head and looked down at Harper.

Was he being serious?

Bobby shook his head and pushed down a laugh as his hands moved to clasp down on his hips and his head angled to one side. He couldn't believe the nerve of this man. Allowing someone to get hurt on his watch, on his shift, when he was supposed to be in charge was one thing. But to blame said person for everything and not take responsibility for their actions was something else entirely.

Being Captain meant being responsible for the safety of everyone under his watch. It meant looking out for them, it meant keeping them in line and making sure if they were hurt or suspectedly hurt, they got seen to. It meant assessing risks and minimising those risks for everyone involved.

Harper couldn't be Captain if he couldn't take care of his team, which included anyone working under him on any shift. And he couldn't be Captain if he couldn't take responsibility for what he had done and for the actions of his team.

"You have some nerve to deny (Y/n) medical treatment and then try and assault her when she tells the truth about you. Whatever credibility you think you had, you lost when you let her get hurt."

"You weren't there Nash, you didn't see anything-"

"I saw the aftermath, Harper. I had to carry her unconscious into the emergency room because of your lack of supervision. So you'd better believe me when I say I'm gonna make sure you don't get to govern any station after what you've done to my girl."

Bobby wouldn't stop. If Harper somehow managed to wrangle his way out of this, Bobby would go on the warpath. He would harrass the Chief, he would send emails and letters. He would make surprise appearances to the 189. He would warn any new recruits and he would have choice words with each of the 189 team so they all understood that they weren't getting away with this.

He wouldn't relent until Harper was taken off his role as Captain. He had no right to hold such a title and Bobby wouldn't allow him to continue. (Y/n) had been hurt, and someone was going to pay for it.

"Now get out before I have you done for harassment too." Bobby wouldn't be opposed to calling the Chief and making him add a complaint of harassment to Harper's growing list of wrong-doings.

He wasn't allowed to be here, he would have been told after his suspension that (Y/n) was the complainant. He would have been informed that having any contact with her wasn't an option and he would make his case worse if he spoke to her even just in passing. He wasn't allowed.

He was openly ignoring that and breaking those rules to be here to try and threaten her into backing down. And it wasn't going to work.

Harper's hands were curling into fists and he jerked his shoulder when Bobby tried to nudge him towards the door to give him the incentive to leave. But the look in his eyes when he turned to glare at (Y/n) over his shoulder was maddening, frightening even.

"You're making a big mistake-"

"And this is a hospital. If you carry on I'll give you a reason to be admitted."

Bobby gave Harper another rough shove until he was stumbling into the door and swinging it wide open to get out. He couldn't stand here and continue to try and belittle and threaten (Y/n). Bobby wasn't opposed to starting a fight or knocking Harper down a flight of stairs. At least he would get quicker medical attention than (Y/n) did when she had a legitimate need for help.

The moment Harper was gone, Bobby let out a deep breath he didn't know he had been holding in. And he felt himself starting to relax when he felt (Y/n)'s hands leave his arm in favour of binding around his torso. He felt her face pressing into his back and each shallow breath she took fanned through his shirt.

His hands moved down to hold onto her wrists against his lower chest and he squeezed tight while his head angled to the side.

"Are you okay?"

"Thank you." They both knew she was avoiding the question, but it didn't really matter. She was alright now that Bobby was here and they would both be leaving soon.

And a tender grin pulled at Bobby's lips when he heard what she mumbled into his shirt.

"Can we go home now?"

***

The further they walked, the tighter (Y/n)'s hands became around Bobby's arm until she was almost cutting off the blood supply to his hand. Not that he cared at all, but he was starting to feel more concerned the more (Y/n) clung to him.

It wasn't very often that (Y/n) had cause to come into the main office. This was for people kike Bobby, for Captains or heads of departments or for people doing work training or exams. This wasn't a place (Y/n) ever came to unless she had to do mandatory training. The office was somewhere she associated with complaints and concerns, not a good place on all accounts.

But she didn't have a choice. Chief Simpson asked her to come down, to discuss the investigation into Harper and the outcome, as the disciplinary team had clearly decided on something.

If Bobby wasn't here with her (Y/n) wouldn't have come down, but he was here for moral support and he could see that it was clearly necessary.

Bobby knew the way to Simpson's office, he had been here often enough so (Y/n) let him guide her up the stairs and down a few corridors.

But confusion and a mix of panic coursed through Bobby's chest when (Y/n) suddenly stopped walking. He turned to the right and looked down at her with narrowed eyes and his free hand moved to gently grip her wrist, silently asking what the problem was. He turned his head to see what (Y/n) was looking at, but he didn't recognise the man stood a few paces ahead down the hall.

"Thompson." His name passed (Y/n)'s lips in a breathless huff while she felt like her lungs were starting to seize up.

This couldn't be a coincidence. He had to be here because of the investigation. They must have brought him in a few times to get his statement and ask his views. And if he was here now then that had to mean they were reprimanding him as well, or in the least, they were cautioning him if he was here because of what had happened with (Y/n).

He wouldn't be happy if he saw her. (Y/n) had a sudden urge to turn and flee, to drag Bobby along with her and disappear into an adjoining corridor or venture into a vacant room so Thompson wouldn't see them.

"Who is he?" Bobby kept his voice hushed as he leant down and hovered his lips against (Y/n)'s hair, but his arm jostled when (Y/n) tried to pull him and get him to retreat.

"Bobby please-"

"(Y/n)?"

The moment Thompson's eyes set on her, (Y/n) felt like she had set alight. Her legs turned to steel and rooted her to the spot and her nails started to dig into Bobby's bare arm as she coiled it to her chest. As if she were seeking some sort of protection like he was a suit of armour.

"What have you done?" His voice was coarse and the way his eyebrows knitted together made him look infuriated.

She couldn't help the way she winced at the tone of his voice but she hated how Bobby tensed up and took a step forward. She didn't want Bobby to get dragged into this. (Y/n) didn't want Thompson to start a fight or be angry with her or for Bobby to have to argue with anyone else on her behalf.

Bobby's eyes assessed the man walking their way before he turned to look at (Y/n). "Is he from the 189?"

He didn't need her to answer, he could see the answer in her expression despite the way she nodded her head.

When Thompson got close enough, Bobby held out his free hand until he could give him a light push in the chest, preventing him from getting any closer. He wouldn't have another person try and intimidate (Y/n), especially not here in the office.

"What do you want?" There was a certain tone to Bobby's voice that gave away how tired he was or this mess. He didn't have the time or the patience to try and play nice. Thompson either stated what he wanted or he let them walk past without a fuss.

"Me? I want an explanation. I've got a bloody record of action on my file because of you, why would you do that? Those things stay there for life."

Thompson leaned around Bobby to talk to (Y/n) almost as if he wanted to pretend that Bobby was invisible and no longer part of this conversation. He had been called in about the investigation, he gave his account and answered their questions. And now he was brought back in to say that they were taking a record of action out against him.

He needed to undergo more mandatory training, he would be reviewed every month for six months almost as if he was back on probation. And a record wouldn't come off his file, it would stay there until he retired or transitioned to a new job. And any new job would find out about this, it was like a black mark against his name.

"I only told them what happened, I didn't choose their course of action." (Y/n) shrugged as she spoke, and she slid one hand down to interlace her fingers with Bobby's.

She had complained about Harper and his team in general, that included Thompson. But she never asked them to file a complaint against him in particular, and she didn't decide what, if any, punishment anyone would get. (Y/n) had no say in that matter, they could just have easily let Thompson off without so much as a warning and (Y/n) wouldn't be able to do anything about it or change that.

"You started this mess, why'd you have to bring us all into it?" The genuine hurt etched into Thompson's face made (Y/n)'s heart thunder in her chest.

He was looking at her like she had cursed him, like she had done some great wrong to him when that wasn't her intention or even what she had done. If he helped her, if he did his job instead of following Harper's bullying tactics then none of this would have gotten so out of hand. He had played a part in this too.

"Thompson?" Bobby uttered his name with an air of confusion before it seemed to click in his mind, and he straightened up. "You dragged (Y/n) up after the fall… are you a medic?"

Thompson's breath caught in his throat as he glared at Bobby, looking him up and down with an upturned nose. "Yeah?"

"A medic who didn't assess a concussed person and forced them back on shift? That's why you've got a record against you, it'll be for negligence. You're lucky they haven't pulled you or given you suspension, so take that attitude down before I have to do something about it."

He had dragged (Y/n) to her feet after the fall, he didn't check her over and he said she was fine and helped Harper force her back on shift. He had been negligent in his duty as a medic, they couldn't let him get away with that and as far as Bobby was concerned, he had gotten off lightly. He was lucky, and he needed to realise that and back down before he got himself into deeper trouble.

"I- I didn't… Harper told you to get back on duty, he said you were fine-"

"And you didn't disagree or do anything to help me. What do you want me say? Eddison's the only one who tried to be kind." (Y/n) knew for a fact that Eddison was the only one out of them all who wouldn't be getting reprimanded.

Maybe he didn't stick his neck out on the line and demand (Y/n) get help, maybe he didn't assess her either. But he tried. He tried to stay with her, to ask if she was alright. He hadn't joined in with the jokes and the teasing, he hadn't done anything to (Y/n).

Thompson began to lock his hands together in front of him while he sighed, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He was clearly trying to calm himself down and stop from causing an argument, and (Y/n) wondered if maybe, he knew deep down that he had been in the wrong. He might think his punishment unjust, but he might also understand why he had to get reprimanded.

When he lifted his head, there was something burning within his eyes that made (Y/n) curious yet fearful.

She didn't like the smile that pulled at Thompson's lips. It was sorrowful, broken, hollow. And all of those emotions looked to be aimed at (Y/n) when he lifted his gaze to meet hers.

"Well I hope you know what you're doing, because Harper's a vindictive guy and you've helped end his career."

"What?" (Y/n)'s hand moved until she was scratching the back of her neck and her stomach twisted and churned like a cement mixer.

What was that supposed to mean? (Y/n) didn't have any choice in this, why did none of them see that? Why were they blaming her when she was the one who had been landed in hospital and mistreated? Why did they think she could control any part of this mess?

"He was here earlier, nearly bust a window on his way out. They've pulled him as Captain, he can't govern any station and he's still on suspension. If he wants to come back, he has to be one of us with a gross negligence mark on his file. He quit."

Pins and needles broke out through (Y/n)'s skin and she took a step back, and another, and then another until she managed to turn herself around. Her head began to shake and both hands clutched at her neck, scratching deep indents into the skin as she felt herself becoming lightheaded.

He'd quit. Harper didn't seem like the kind of guy who would do that, who would back down and accept his losses. He had threatened (Y/n) in the hospital to try and salvage what was left of his job. Throwing it all away defeated everything he tried to do.

But he wouldn't want to stay when he would have very little left. He couldn't Captain any team, they wouldn't let him rise through the ranks anymore. If he wanted to stay on the job, he would of had to become a simple fireman. He couldn't be shift lead, Captain, Chief, he couldn't rise up and be a head of department or head of communications or anyone of significance here in the office.

And that mark on his file wasn't going to disappear even if he quit. When he got a new job and they asked for references, that incident report would be stuck to his file. Every job opportunity would see that he had been charged with gross negligence after the investigation. He couldn't run away from that.

(Y/n) wasn't sure where she was going or which way she was trying to aim for, all she knew was that she wanted to get out of here.

This was why the Chief had asked her to come in, he wanted to tell her the results of the investigation. He wanted to say that they knew Harper had done wrong and they were holding him accountable for it. They wanted Bobby to be reassured that this had been dealt with through the proper channels and that he didn't have to go on a crusade for justice.

Bobby looked between (Y/n)'s retreating frame and the man stood in front of him who was starting to resemble a kicked puppy, feeling sorry for himself.

And he found himself sighing. "You got off lightly and you still have your job. Do yourself a favour and move on, if you resent it you'll end up like Harper and if you hold this against (Y/n), then I pray that you never get hurt on the job and need help. Because you won't deserve it."

Bobby didn't wait for a response. He didn't hang around to see whether Thompson had listened to him or if he agreed. He turned and walked away, speeding up to try and find out where (Y/n) had got to.

The rest of the 189 had gotten off lightly with records of conversation or actions against them. That was like a slap on the wrist compared to Harper's comeuppance. Thompson could still do his job, no one was going to treat him differently or hold it against him and he hadn't lost anything out of all of this. Stewing and being angry was only going to make him a monster like his former Captain.

And Bobby would hate for him to continue blaming (Y/n), because then he truly didn't deserve or fit in this job. If he could start blaming someone who was a victim then he couldn't be objective anymore and he couldn't help people. And he wouldn't deserve any help if he got hurt one day on a call and no one treated him fairly.

"Sweetheart, slow down."

(Y/n) was almost at the stairwell when she felt Bobby's hands on her waist, reeling her back towards him. She broke out in trembles when he kissed the back of her head and she turned to sludge when he carefully reeled her back towards him and took a few steps to the left.

She let him ease her down onto a small sofa in the hall and once he sat down next to her, (Y/n) dropped her head onto his chest. Her arm shakily slung around his middle and she leaned into him like she thought she was going to pass out.

"It's okay." He murmured into her hair while his arm looped around the back of her shoulders and his hand started to feather up and down her arm. "This is good news."

"Then why do I feel guilty?"

"Because you're a good person. If this was anyone else who got hurt, you'd of told them to report it and do the same thing. You don't have to feel bad sweetheart, you haven't done anything wrong."

Tears welled up in (Y/n)'s eyes that she tried hard to push away, but she couldn't. She couldn't stop them from cascading down her features and soaking into Bobby's shirt. And she couldn't stop her breaths from becoming shallow and making her head feel lighter than air.

She was the reason Harper was now out of a job. She had set the ball rolling. She had messed up that station and they were all going to blame her. If they ever came on a scene with the 118 they were going to be hostile, they might try and put in complaints against (Y/n) to get even. Everyone was going to be furious with her and see her as a traitor.

Would her own team feel like that? Did they think she had done the wrong thing by complaining? Should she have just let it go and move on?

"I've fucked up that whole station," A sarcastic laugh tumbled from her lips as she burrowed deeper into Bobby's chest.

"And what would of happened if you didn't? If they learned you were in hospital and you didn't complain, Simpson would still have looked into it because you were hurt on duty. And Harper could have spun it and said you were negligent on the job. He could victimise someone else. You got hurt, he was responsible and he got his comeuppance."

Bobby didn't care what anyone in that station said, or anyone in this office. He only cared that the people responsible for letting (Y/n) get hurt were now paying the price. He cared that Harper couldn't do this to anyone else, he made Bobby and all the other station Captains look bad, he set a bad example and he let his people get hurt. That wasn't acceptable.

If (Y/n) didn't complain or if Bobby didn't push the Chief to look into this, Harper could have spun a lie. He could of said that (Y/n) wasn't doing her job properly, that she fell because she was negligent or doing something wrong or not aware in the situation. He could have blamed her and gotten (Y/n) into unjust trouble.

If she didn't say anything, this could of happened again to someone else. Another transfer, another new recruit who didn't fit in. Anyone could have gotten hurt or bullied or pushed out and Harper would get away with it. This had to be done. It was the right thing.

The feeling of Bobby's lips pressing to her temple made (Y/n) relax slightly in his arms and she tightened her hold around him, wishing they were back home and that none of this ever happened.

She felt Bobby murmuring "You did the right thing," against her skin, and she wanted to smile. But she couldn't.

No matter what anyone said, (Y/n) could still feel that guilt dwelling in the pit of her stomach.

[s0s1mple]

Vampire! Enhypen

TW: Blood, innuendo, abuse, death, violence, unhealthy relationships, humans as commodity.

(Rest of the members below the cut)

Masterlist

Heeseung:

Heeseung was turned about forty years ago, which is relatively young in vampire years. A young adult equivalent. But despite his age, he’s a natural when it comes to getting the hang of the world he’d been brought into. He was able to quickly harness his strength, speed, and- most importantly- hunger. In fact, he’s much better than even some more seasoned vampires, a fact that makes him a little alarming to many other vamps. Point is, nobody wants piss off Heeseung, which is a task in itself.

He’s unserious, using his unlife to party and explore the world, charming those as he goes and indulging in activities that would kill humans easily. With his thirst easily held at bay, a particular vice of his is going to human auction houses and sampling those for sales. The warm slide of blood down his throat, that euphoric rush, and then he was on to the next event.

He’d never buy someone of course, not so much opposed to the morality of it- Heeseung isn’t really prone to thinking heart-first on account of not having a beating one- but more so the responsibility of it.

The prices for a premium blood source were outrageous in his opinion, especially factoring in the upkeep of such a fragile creature. No, Heeseung would rather just take a sip, pretend to consider it, and dip.

But at a particular auction in a particular country, Heeseung inexplicably beelined to your cage. A flick of his eyes to yours, your thoughts sounded out clearly in his head. Just a whisper as you curled in on yourself. “I don’t want to die.” Not an unfamiliar thought, no, but one that slithered through his mind like an infection. He tilted his head.

The auctioneer, happy to see someone that seemed to know everyone in these circles, rushed over. He banged on the bars of the cage harshly, a sharp contrast to the smarmy grin he shot Heeseung. Hesitation, and then you obeyed. Your trembling arm, marred with bruising bites from vamps who sampled and hadn’t bothered to heal them, stuck out from inside. He eyed your arm, thin and bony. What a poor excuse for an auction house. These purchases were meant to be long-term investments. The least they could do was feed them and keep them healthy, right?

But still Heeseung dipped down, grasping your arm, and ghosted his mouth over your forearm. He picked a clean spot close to the crook of your elbow, licked his lips, and pressed them to your flesh. Your skin was soft, so soft that it felt like his fangs were sliding through butter. One second out, the next pierced deep into your arm.

One swallow, two, and then another, and another, and Heeseung didn’t feel like he could stop. The thick liquid spread like honey over his tongue, lingering everywhere and spreading a pleasant buzz over his nerves. He huffed into your skin, eyes flicking up to meet your wide, pained ones. “Please stop. Please stop drinking. I’m dizzy. Or maybe keep drinking so I don’t have to be conscious through this hell.” Your thoughts were rushed, jumbled now.

Heeseung slipped his fangs from your skin. Somehow it felt so much harder than sinking them in. He laved his tongue over your forearm, from wrist to the crook of your elbow, and leaned back. The wounds were closing now, black and yellow splotches fading, and something inside him preened. He grinned that charming, perfect heart-shaped smile at you. The auctioneer leaned in. Heeseung’s eyes cut to him and he tilted his head curiously.

“How much?”

Jay:

Jay didn’t care to stand out. Once upon a time, maybe, he’d derived joy from being perceived. From being praised, or being looked up to by other vampires. Once upon a time he’d been important, a figurehead in vampiric society. Now they just thought he had lost his mind. Why else would someone give all that up? Why would a vampire stop drinking from humans? How could they manage it?

Jay asked himself that sometimes. Why was he still sticking to this diet, this thing slowly poisoning his body? He’d pulled himself down to the level of a mere house cat, scavenging for prey at the edges of forests and buying excess blood from the local butchery. Sometimes it felt like a challenge he’d just decided to put himself through, other times penance for the suffering he’d needlessly caused when he’d first turned. Jay wasn’t sure, ultimately. But he was nothing if not stubborn and he wouldn’t break. Forty years sober from human blood changed him. Allowed him to live amongst humans without viewing them as food, allowed him to get to know them, to watch as they came and went and learn all of their unique stories.

Jay didn’t want to become that creature of the night again. He didn’t want to take someone’s child from them if he accidentally nicked the wrong artery. So much suffering only for a full stomach. No, Jay wouldn’t do it, even if the pains and aches in his body worsened by the day.

Under normal circumstances he would not have slipped back into old habits. Wouldn’t even let himself be in the same room as human blood. But he didn’t really have a choice in this instance, because you’d just fallen down the stairs in the office building he was visiting and fuck- you were going to die if he didn’t do anything.

Jay held your head in shaking hands, eyeing the deep laceration on your temple. You were a stranger… why was he doing this? Was he really this soft now? His fangs ached, his brain fuzzy, but he forced himself through the burning need. He pressed his tongue to your wound, the taste like a flashbang to his senses. The effect was sluggish, but he could feel your wound begin to close up. He’d done his job. He could pull away now.

He should pull away now.

He should-

Jay groaned low in his throat, lapping at the crimson that had gushed down the side of your face. He could feel his body shudder, his talent surging back in full force. Had it tasted this good before? How had he ever given this up? Jay clenched his jaw, releasing you abruptly in favor of grabbing something else. The steel railing crumpled beneath his grasp, splintering and twisting, and Jay stumbled back. Fuck, it had been so long since he’d had to manage his strength, so long since he’d had this power. He’d have to get used to it again.

His eyes finally drifted back down to your form, limp and unconscious. He swallowed thickly. He could still taste you, still smell your scent, and he yearned. He felt like an addict jonesing for his next hit. A wave of disgust hit him.

Jay leant down, carefully picking you up, fingers clasped as lightly as inhumanly possible so he didn’t bruise you. “I’m sorry for that. I’ll- I’ll make sure you get better. I swear it.” He whispered.

Jake:

Turned less than a decade ago, Jake’s still pretty new to this whole undead thing. He’s not terrible at it, he thinks, but he’s certainly not good either. Especially considering whatever vampire gods are out there- do those exist?- decided that Sim Jaeyun would be a good idea to bestow a fire talent onto. It has been a little over five years since he’d been turned, but still Jake had trouble with it. Got a little too excited? Someone’s hair was in flames. Upset? His shoes began to melt. God forbid, aroused? He was lucky if the whole place didn’t go up in an inferno.

So Jake tried to keep to himself. Even if his hunger was pretty well managed for his vampiric age, he stuck to the vampire owned businesses around his local city. It was his college town, something he’d still gone ahead with and finished. He’d yet to go out and explore the world past the bounds of it, more content to keep to familiar things that didn’t raise his blood pressure.

But there you were, waltzing into his favorite cafe. Human, as some customers sometimes were, and immediately handed the human-friendly menu. Muffins and danishes and drinks free of that precious nectar they sourced from the hospital’s extra reserves. As ethical as you could get with a human-based vampiric diet. He distinctly remembers watching you order the cheese danish and a latte before you sat down at the table next to his and pulled out a book.

His own book, some novel he hardly remembers the name of now, began to singe at the end. Frantically he patted it out, but the smoke only began to rise faster, so Jake shoved the rest of his muffin in his mouth and dashed off.

What the fuck was going on, he wondered. What had triggered him? When he saw you again, your scent invading his too-sensitive nose, he came to the conclusion that he’d been excited. Jake, knowing the dangers now that he was aware of what you triggered in him for some reason, should have starting going to a different cafe. You’d decided you liked his usual one and became a regular, after all.

But he didn’t. He kept going, slowly forcing himself to get more used to you, until finally his fingers felt like their normal undead coolness instead of heated and alive. And each time he saw you, he learned more. The types of books you read, the coffee you drank, the friends you ran into… humans, of course. So despite getting more used to you, it was surprising when he realized he’d actually somehow become more affected by you.

He began to seek you out outside of the cafe, following your scent like a bloodhound so he could see you whenever he wanted. Easy considering the size of your town. From college- you were around his age when he’d died- to your folk’s house, to the gym and to the cafe, to the grocery store and then right back to your house. Like clockwork a lot of the time. You’d take that little alleyway passage between the hardware store and his favorite cafe to get back home and-

Someone couldn’t keep their fangs to themselves. You struggled and cried and hit at their shoulders. Jake could literally smell your fear, the emotion souring the edges of the scent he’d begun to love so much. Jake’s fangs descended as he rushed forwards and tackled the assaulter to the ground. Punch, hiss, snarl… they were older than him, stronger physically, but as Jake shoved their face away with an enraged growl their skin smoldered and melted with the force of the heat rolling off of him. Yowling screams. They fled, leaving him with you, smoke curling from the street.

Jake heaved in a breath he didn’t need. Your fear on his tongue, his flames lessened from a roar to a warm furnace. He crawled over to your shaking form where you crouched against the wall. Hands held delicately to your face, Jake lapped at the wound on your neck.

Euphoria. He barely managed to pull away, the inferno inside roaring all over again.

His hands tightened and he pressed his forehead to yours with a shaky breath. “I’ll never let you out of my sight again. I promise.”

Sunghoon:

Sunghoon liked humans. Liked feeling like a god amongst them. It was a passive feeling, a superiority that settled deep in his bones, as people fawned over him and commented how he looked just like a vampire prince.

Funny, only one of those was right, not that they’d ever know unless he decided he wanted a snack. They’d never tell anyone though, because Sunghoon wasn’t in the business of having his perfect position as a handsome bachelor go down the drain. He was no charmspeaker, after all. Much better to suck them dry and sell off their remains.

All of that was to say that while Sunghoon didn’t go out of his way to be cruel for the sake of it, he wasn’t opposed to venting some steam through what he generally viewed as little more than entertaining window dressing. An employee who stepped the wrong way at the wrong time in his presence could very easily find themselves at the bottom of the Han river, that was just how it was. And Sunghoon would smile and flirt while they sank, those same fangs that took their life on partial display because his lovers loved them so much.

But then you figured him out. Connected the dots, noticed the signs, pulled everything back to his alias at the time. Sunghoon had actually been surprised when, for the first time in his two hundred years as a vampire, he’d been cornered in his penthouse with a stake aimed firmly at his heart. You two stared at each other for a long while. You cautiously, never one to take taking a life lightly, and him appraisingly. You had a fire in your eyes though, a tension in your shoulders more akin to predator than prey.

Sunghoon tilted his head, interest flaring at the back of his mind. Somehow, you didn’t register as every human did, your presence stark and different. He didn’t have a whole lot of time to process the sentiment before you lunged. The resulting fight was quick but furious. You barely missed his chest a couple of times, he boxed you backwards, careful not to hurt you too badly, until your wrist was pinned painfully to the wall. Sunghoon, despite the genuine threat to his unlife, was surprised to find himself grinning at you. Something inside him was thrilled by the exchange.

You glared at him, fear absent from your gaze, and bared your neck. “Get it over with.” You hissed. Sunghoon chuckled and leaned in; he scented your neck instead, curious. A unique aroma, just as intriguing as the rest of you. Then he leaned back.

“Why hunt us?” He found himself asking. You seemed surprised. Honestly, he was surprising himself.

“I hunt the ones like you, not everyone. The ones more animal than human.” You spat back, disgust coloring your voice. “You’re just masquerading as a human, that’s all. Pretending to be docile.” Sunghoon let his fangs slide out with his smile, almost taunting.

“That makes two of us, doesn’t it? I think we’re more similar than you’d like to admit.”

“Fuck you.” You tried to headbutt him. Sunghoon clicked his tongue, mirth welling up. Oh, you were interesting.

“We should get to know each other first. Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time for that.” His eyes flashed, fingers tightening. A purr threatened to emerge from his throat. “I think I’ll keep you, hunter.”

Sunoo:

Sunoo was one of the upper echelon, a vampire that sires of sires of sires would mention offhandedly. He’d been around for innumerable years, watching the world change in wonderful and horrible ways. The familiar became unfamiliar, and then familiar once again. People came and died, vampires rose and were desecrated. Sunoo didn’t form many personal attachments anymore. What was the point when they never seemed to stay safe, to take care of themselves? In the blink of an eye they were always gone.

So Sunoo kept his cards close to his chest. He explored cities he’d been to many years ago to see their improvement, marveling at the progress of society, before retreating to the countryside to bask in the warm glow of the natural world. Sunoo didn’t stay close to people, sure, but his love for the world itself? The flora and fauna and the unpredictable patterns found in the ground outdoors? Infinite.

And when he did interact with others, whether human or vampire, he was kind. He retained his personality from all those years ago, a feat nearly unheard of for vampires his age, though it was certainly through trial and error. Decades of sadness, of rage, of crushing pain as loved after lover disappeared. But he’d found peace and regained that part of him that started this all; the part of him that had helped an old man out of the way of a carriage, only to be killed and turned for his generosity.

Even when Sunoo was irked, or when he was forced to deal with something less pleasant than his calm existence- whether it be an irritable situation or a young upstart who thought killing someone of his pedigree would be good street cred- it was hardly difficult to deal with. Charmspeak harnessed over years and years was impossible to break, after all. And if he was unable to speak? They would soon discover that it took a little more than a stake to kill a vampire like him.

So that’s why when Sunoo awoke to a stake pressed to his heart, he was unfazed. He blinked at you, tilting his head. “What’re you doing?” You seemed upset at his nonchalance and pressed it harder.

“You killed my mother, leech.” You hissed. The pain in your voice was palpable, rage doing little to disguise it. Intriguing, but hardly something to dwell on for someone who’d seen and heard it all. Sunoo sighed.

“I don’t kill anymore. Decided to go vegetarian.” He muttered. He could feel your stare on him.

“Liar.” He wasn’t lying. The stake pressed through him, a tingling sort of pain. There was a beat of silence. Sunoo smiled ruefully and sat up, sending you scrambling back in surprise.

“Alright, you can believe what you want. You were brave to come after me though.” He pulled the wood from his chest with a click of irritation. “So I’ll do you a favor. Never forget your mother, but be at peace with her death.” The worlds slithered from Sunoo’s mouth, imbued with magic.

You paused. He expected you to apologize, your hatred a mere memory, but instead… you scowled. Snarled, even. “Be at peace? Fuck you. Fuck you, you monster. I’ll find a way to kill you if it’s the last thing I do!” Oh. How interesting.

If he’d had a heart, it would have stuttered in surprise. He could feel a phantom warmth under his skin. Finally, finally something new. Sunoo straightened up and cocked his head, a slow smile stretching over his face. Up and up until his cheeks bunched up in the way his mother had so loved so, so long ago. He giggled. “You’re mad? This is so interesting! I’ll have to keep you around, won’t I?”

Jungwon:

Jungwon had been around the block a few times. Enough times to make enemies and friends, and certainly enough time to build up a decent bit of apathy for humans. Once you lived long enough, immeasurably more powerful that the creatures you were forced to live on, it was only natural one would begin to compare them to livestock. Granted, Jungwon wasn’t cruel. He took no pleasure in killing humans, so he kept to feeding from them instead. A transaction, something like looking after humans like livestock. You didn’t kill a cow when you wanted milk, did you?

Because of that fact, Jungwon surrounded himself with vampires. It wasn’t really a conscious superiority thing, but it felt natural. No needing to hide, no needing to temper his hunger, and plenty of opportunity to meet coven leaders to get advice. Jungwon was ambitious after all. A coven of his own sounded more and more like a good idea by the century.

Interacting with these powerful coven leaders came easiest when they were buzzed, high off potent alcohol and blood at their lavish parties. Jungwon himself wasn’t the biggest party person, more of an introvert actually, but he did attend ones he was invited to for the connections. It was at one of these parties that he encountered something interesting.

Upon searching for the smoke room so he could find a particular someone he was looking to chat with, he stumbled into someone’s private chambers. There you were, sitting in the corner with a chain wrapped around your ankle. You were small, shivery, a collar around your neck. It was nothing lavish, starkly contrasting the gold and sequins of the room, and you looked at him owlishly. Jungwon tilted his head curiously. What on earth were you doing in here? A human blood bank purchased on the black market wasn’t foreign to him, though he wasn’t the biggest fan of them, but for you to be locked up back here despite the party outside? Normally the host of this party would be all too happy to strap you to a table and have you act as a buffet.

“Hello?” Jungwon hummed. You blinked at him, then tentatively waved a hand. You were thin. Not malnourished, but definitely not healthy either. “Who are you?” He decided to ask. Who are you to the owner of the home, he meant.

“Master’s.” You said shortly, voice cracked at the end. You looked worn out, eyes rimmed with dark circles. Jungwon slowly nodded.

“A pet?” You scratched at your arm- they were lined in bruises and cuts, not bites, Jungwon noticed- jaw clenching in response. He took a deep breath he didn’t exactly need to take, foot tapping. Something about this rubbed at him wrong. Made him want to run and keep running until his talent was all worn out and his body wasn’t humming with this tension. “You’re hurt.”

“Yeah.” It was a calm comment, something you were used to. Jungwon’s muscles felt tight. He wrinkled his nose. Even animals didn’t deserve to be treated like this, bruised and small and beaten down. As much as Jungwon wanted to learn more from his elders, as polite as he was, as inhuman, Jungwon was at the very least humane. A flash and he was in front of you. You flinched back like you thought he’d take your head off. Jungwon sighed.

“Let’s get you out of here, hm?” He pulled at the metal, bending it slowly and prying it open. You watched him, confused, and Jungwon shot you a dimpled smile. It seemed to soothe you, to his relief. Why was it relieving, though? Jungwon wasn’t sure. What he was sure about was choice to hoist you onto his back and speed through the mansion so fast nobody even had time to realize what had happened. “I’ll take much better care of you, I promise.”

Ni-ki:

Newly turned vampires were much like newborn animals. Instinctive, confused, in need of guidance. When they awoke for the first time, fangs bared and mind jumbled, it was only natural they would quickly find someone to latch onto. The neck of some easy prey, first of all, and then someone they felt they could trust- another of their kind, more than often. That was why sires took responsibility for them even if there were no plans to add them to their coven; it was simply an understood norm. You wouldn’t leave a child unattended, would you?

But there were always bad parents. Ni-ki was extremely unfortunate to have run into both an irresponsible and even more unfortunate vampire when grabbing groceries late at night. One second he was fiddling with his phone to take a picture of a neighbor’s cat, and the next he was being drained by a panicked vamp. In a rush, they gave no care to keeping their venom out of his system. As Ni-ki crumpled to the ground, vision hazy and body turning cold, he watched as his attacker was speared through by a well-placed stake. The hunter took one look at Ni-ki, decided he looked like he was dying properly, and fled the scene with a whispered apology.

When Ni-ki woke again, it was with a burning hunger in his veins, painful thirst clawing at his neck. Everything was too loud, too sensitive, the male stumbling through the tight alleys of his hometown, a terrible throbbing in his skull. Then a warm body. Ni-ki hardly remembered descending upon them, tearing their throat out accidentally because he was just so fucking hungry.

He’d later awaken properly, sated though still confused, to cold skin and crusted blood drenching his chin. Reasonably, he’d panicked. Ran off, fabric clutched to his face and squinting against light that seemed way too harsh all of a sudden, only to stumble into a department store. He swiped a change of clothes off the hangers in the back and found the nearest restroom.

Ni-ki furiously wiped at his face in a mirror that wouldn’t reflect him, peeling his lip up to feel at gleaming fangs he couldn’t fucking make go away, and tried to figure out what to do. What would he tell his parents? How would he live a normal life now? God, why did the blood on his lips taste so fucking good? Tears of panic welled in his eyes, the male hardly noticing the way shadows seemed to climb up the walls around him, suffocating and thick like molasses.

The door creaked open amongst his panicked breaths. The shadows dispersed in an instant. His neck snapped to the side to see a figure in the doorway.

You.

A mere store employee confused at what someone with bloodstains and- holy shit, were those fangs?- was doing in the worker’s bathroom. You two stared at each other for a long time before Ni-ki stammered out some fake story. Your eyes trailed to the mirror, then back to him. Ni-ki tensed. You spoke. “You’re a vampire.”

“I- uh- I’m not evil- I mean, I don’t think I am…” The male managed weakly. His eyes had latched onto your pulse. You clicked your tongue.

“Eyes up here, fangs. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Ni-ki stumbled back, startled, as your smaller form crowded him into the bathroom and began wiping at the blood he’d missed. You muttered under your breath about not getting paid enough for this, about how your sibling would freak if they knew vampires existed for real, and Ni-ki slowly relaxed. Something in his mind seemed to slot into place, like a puzzle piece finding its home. You were… strange. Nice, but strange.

And Ni-ki really, really needed someone nice right now, even if they were human.

I’m really curious if you can tell who my bias is, mwahahah. Lemme know!

[radawaycunt]

Saw you were taking Lucius Verus requests 👀

Perhaps something along the lines of Lucius rescuing reader from trouble. Hurt/comfort? I just know those biceps could hold me all day…

(if you write this can you tag me pls)

Oooooh thanks for requesting!!

(For the sake of this scenario, let’s say Lucius was allowed to walk the streets of Rome. Tw // mild violence)

————

“Fifteen denarii? For this?” You raised your eyebrows at the textile merchant, pointing at the swath of fabric you’d been sampling. “You must take me for a fool."

He frowned, his screwed up face uglier and even less friendly than before. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"For the quality, this is ten at best! And that’s being generous!”

"How dare you!" He spat, causing the stall's guard to take a menacing step forward. "This is genuine Tarentum wool!"

"I own such wool, and it doesn't feel nearly as coarse as this," you scoffed, tossing the fabric back at him. "You are scamming people with fakes."

"You forget yourself, woman," the guard said, his voice gruff.

He raised a large, meaty hand with the intent to strike you across the face and you flinched, trying to cover yourself with your hands. You grit your teeth in anticipation...

But the startling pain never came. You dared to look up as you heard the guard's confused grunt, and you saw that another man had caught his wrist.

"I would really advise against that," the man said, a dangerous edge to his tone.

"And who are you!? This does not concern you!" The merchant said, turning his glare away from you. "She was trying to tarnish my business!"

"Not without good reason, I suspect."

The guard tried to shove him off, but the man swiftly spun away from from his reach and punched him square in the face. You clambered backward as a full on brawl broke out between them, breaking the table where all the different pieces of textile were displayed. Your first instinct was to flee, but as you turned to run, a hand caught your arm.

"And just where do you think you're going?" the merchant sneered, his grip tight enough to bruise. "Look what you have caused!"

He backhanded you harshly, and at your cry, your savior knocked the guard unconscious and whirled around. There was fury in his gaze as he saw you cradling one side of your face with your free hand, and he took up the fallen guard's sword.

"Let go of her," he said slowly, pointing the tip of the sword at the merchant. "Or I'll cut off your hands."

Begrudgingly, the merchant let you go, and your savior nodded at you to get behind him. You hurried towards him without a second thought, instinctively holding onto his tunic. The two men stared at each other for a tense moment, poised to strike.

"I should cut them off anyway, so you may never strike a woman again," he spat, but lowered the sword.

"Get the fuck out of here," the merchant growled, his teeth clenched. "If I ever see either of you around here again, I'll have you killed."

Your savior did not even react to the threat, instead glancing at you over his shoulder. "Come on, let's go."

He tossed the sword on the ground and led you away, hovering close behind you to make sure no one else tried anything. Out in the busy street, he stopped you so he could examine your face, frowning. His thumb traced your cheekbone ever so lightly, which was just beginning to turn faintly purple.

You looked at him more closely, as well, pinned in place by the concern in his crystalline blue eyes. He was handsome in an almost divine way, like the personification of the god of war, Mars. He certainly fought like him, too, an undercurrent of violence under the flex of his muscles.

But you were not afraid of him, instead just awed that he had done it all in your defense.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his eyes meeting yours.

You shook your head. "Just a dull throb now. Won't look so pretty for a while, though..."

"You needn't be concerned about that," he said, his hand retreating.

You swallowed hard, your face heating up at the insinuation. "I--Thank you for saving me, um..."

"Lucius, he said. "Lucius Verus."

"Thank you, Lucius," you said. "Surely I would be worse off if it hadn't been for you. Aren't you afraid he might call the Praetorian guard?"

"He won't. He would have to answer too many other questions that I'm sure he would prefer not to, especially about his business practices..."

You nodded, letting out a breath as you felt a little more relieved. You felt the urge to hug him, but instead you took both of his hands and squeezed them appreciatively.

"May the Gods bless you always, Lucius Verus."

He squeezed your hands back and smiled, inclining his head graciously.

"And you," he said, then glanced around at the busy crowd of the market. "I should like to be your personal guard for the rest of the day, if you'd let me escort you."

Your smile widened. "Well, I would never dream of declining such generous offer."

-----------

[psychicpinenut]

while i love the martian movie it seriously downplayed how utterly fucked mark watney is. need to get pathfinder? no problem he just hops in the car and gets it. what do you mean it took mark weeks to even get to it? he has a whole separate place to make his potatoes! he doesn't have to farm the entirety of his Hab and additional pop tents at all!! when the airlock explodes and separates from the Hab, he can just duct tape over the crack in his helmet and it's good as new. doesn't have to literally cut off the arm of his EVA suit to seal the crack and he's not rapidly losing air in the airlock. he makes a silly quip about NASA telling him to 'drill a bunch of holes into the top and hit it as hard as he can with a rock' but doesn't say that it takes him almost a week to do it because the drill he's using was made for taking soil samples. oh btw while he was working on this he fried the circuit in the pathfinder, cutting off all communications with earth. and he definitely didn't have to go around a sandstorm and didn't tip the mars rover over.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

hey, could I request a fic for ena dream bbq? Ena x reader who's a slightly funky version of a mars rover.

They look like the spirit/opportunity rovers for the most part, with the whole robot head and solar panel wing thing going on. But, their wheels are floating just a little off the ends of their leg thingies, and they can separate into individual pieces making up hands/feet, and their body and legs are a bit more articulated, so the reader can stand up in a more humanoid shape if they so choose.

And on their head, they have a small screen near their cameras, which they use to show emotion using emoticons, because it's a low resolution screen that pretty much only displays a few characters of text. So they just kinda go :] <:D >:/ :P BJ X0 ;3 ':2 c: D8 ',:) :7 (individually not all at once) when they are talking to people. Sometimes they display a word or a few symbols instead tho, like "there's a 37 percent chance of that happening" and their screen says 37%, or they go ??? When confused or something.

They usually stay in regular rover form while traveling, driving on their wheels, and go humanoid when they need to carry something, talk to people, or generally are in a situation where hands are useful. They do have one arm that isn't one of their wheels, but it has somewhat delicate scientific equipment in it, so they don't use it as much for everyday stuff. They also turn off their screen when they aren't actively trying to convey emotions, so usually only when alone or around people they know well and trust.

theyre working together with ena, and on the side just casually taking soil samples and pictures of interesting things. Write whatever you feel like, one shot, hc, anything, whatever you feel inspired to write. Preferably platonic, but if you wanna write a romance I won't stop you. (If you wanna add any other characters like coral glasses or Kane or something that could also be fun, even someone from the series like classic ena or shepherd, but that makes things more complicated so you very much don't have to)

Have a nice day! :D

(sorry this ask is so long and probably goes into unnecessary detail, im a rambler and decided to give a whole character description for some reason ':∆. You don't need to write this if you don't wanna)

This is a cool concept! I don't mind the extra details! Hope hcs are alright

..........

While you don't recall when or where you were built, you do know your purpose: take pictures of intriguing subjects, steal soil and rock samples, etc. etc. Everything you've once done in space, you do here on this world.

But it felt less like a job and more like a hobby. Something that stimulated your circuitry and allowed you to experience "joy" (which you once thought was strictly reserved for living organisms) in everything you found.

Your creators have long since forgotten you...or maybe they all died and didn't think you'd outlive them. You had no orders to follow. No signals to relay. No real mission to accomplish.

So you took it upon yourself to join Ena and Froggy's group, wanting to have some sort of directive, even if it meant helping them accomplish whatever business called for them to do.

Some days, you'd be in the Hub, assisting Coral Glasses with her work regarding the Horse Door, faxing her blood samples and other interesting specimen you've picked up, or she might print a picture of something bizarre she found and ask for your input.

You weren't programmed with a voice (which she doesn't mind since she's not a fan of social interactions and lengthy chats). Instead, you communicate through a screen next to your cameras, which display a variety of emoticons, emojis, and symbols. It's not the greatest resolution, but it gets your point across.

Some icons are indicative of approval, some of disdain, and others...would be confusing for the average person to understand.

For Froggy? He tends to mistranslate what you're trying to say and has the nerve to ask why you made a >:( face.

For Kane? He gets it half the time.....but he's more worried about getting his coins stuck in your wheels again.

For Ena? It's no problem. She knows exactly what you mean every time, acting like she's been there since your construction, while also respecting your autonomy.

When your new and current directive became "eliminate the smoke", you thought the tasks leading to its completion would be simple.

But with Ena, it turns out to be anything but that.

In the Lonely Door, you noticed that the Uncanny Streets had a dry deserted terrain. You had a phobia of dust storms and your wheels getting stuck in sand traps, but thankfully the conditions here don't permit such occurrences. And your solar panels are always keeping your batteries charged, as it never gets dark, either--so in short, travelling around would be the least of your concerns.

While your screen initially displays nothing as you scan the environment, Ena somehow knows what you're thinking and pats the top of your head.

"This will be a great opportunity to gather vital intel and ask invasive questions!" Salesperson grins. "I can smell the opportunities from up here, my friend. Don't you?"

":U....<:)"

"That's the spirit! I couldn't have said it better myself! I vow to get to the bottom of this mysterious Gen--bAthR00M."

"🚽?"

"Ew! I didn't need to see THAT!!!" Meanie pretends to retch. "Go take 300 pictures of that cloud for me, you hunk of metal!!"

Funny enough, you don't take her demands as an insult. Your storage is like a bottomless pit, so you could hypothetically take 300 pics of one singular cloud if its shape and placement in the sky intrigued you enough.

But you'd rather stick with her and assist her with the different jobs she's been given.

You can shift between your primary vehicle mode and your more humanoid one for easy interactions with folks--although you being taller than Ena in that latter form leads to Meanie pouting and grumbling under her breath when she thinks you can't see her.

Too bad for her, as your camera/eyes can see 360.

While she talks to people (which is really them messing with her and claiming to be the boss, insulting her species, and eventually giving her something to do), you're just taking pictures of things like the giant melded into the building, the black tree without leaves that's wandering about the outskirts, or the alienlike Wanderers in the sky.

Rescuing Shoryo's pets/babies is easy, as you're able to maneuver around tight spaces and let them rest on your platform, driving them back to the horselike entity.

He felt flattered that you "delivered them to [him] on a silver platter"...which left you wondering if he intended to eat them.

Before you can question it, there's an explosion and you see Ena and the Shaman outside of the now-destroyed Seal House.

After she's given the humanboard, you discover fertile soil deposits around the streets, learning that the head can grow into a full body and help her reach higher places.

The ribcages buried within the dirt intrigued you, but oddly enough...she didn't want you to take any bone samples.

All you wanted to do was perform a light brush, a gentle abrasion on the surface. Just enough to get a microscopic calcium extract so you could determine how old it is.

You had no idea what overcame Ena when her clawed hand latches onto your delicate arm unexpectedly, threatening to damage your analyzers, drills bits, and other scientific equipment embedded into it.

It sets off internal alarms, red lights flashing across your vision, but you silence those in favor of staring at her. "🦴❌?"

"I just....don't want you to do that. It might hurt him.." Meanie's voice drops into a low whisper, something extremely uncharacteristic of her, as her mitten hand trembles and cradles the humanboard closer to her chest. Like some maternal instinct had overtaken her. "Please.."

Your screen goes dark, but you comply and leave the soil alone.

Perhaps not everything needs exploration.

[writeyouin]

TF-One Megatron (D-16) X Reader - The Creature From Another World Chapter 2 Sample

A/N - This is a rough draft, and I just thought I'd share a bit of it. Even made a nice lil GIF for it since those are still slim pickings

Megatron held you as per your request. He didn’t know why you wanted to be up, only that you did and he was only too happy to comply, and that he had to hold onto that feeling. You were the only thing he had left to bring any shred of joy. Everything else what a toxic poison coursing through his body, leaving only hate and anger.

You stood in Megatron’s palm, trying to see the D-16 you knew before. He used to laugh and relay stories back and forth to Orion. Now, he mostly frowned. His optics were a violent red, leaving no trace of the warm amber glow his eyes used to have.

You reached out to touch him, you hand falling to his chassis where a brand new Megatronus insignia had been branded into him, covering over the one Sentinel had burned him with. He had claimed the symbol, owning it for the new Decepticon army.

Megatron vented a soft gust of warm air, wondering what you were thinking as you pawed at his insignia. He wished that you could see it as the symbol of a new age as it was supposed to be, but he guessed that you would always remember the one that Sentinel had marred him with.

---

After disappearing on his life-changing quest with Orion, D-16 had worried about you, but he figured that the other miners would take care of you. Then, when they had been told that Orion and he had died, they had apparently panicked, scared that they wouldn’t be able to help you leave the planet since they were the lower class. So, one of them had taken you to Sentinel, explaining what you were and coming up with a cover story for how you had gotten to Cybertron.

Sentinel, having guessed that you were once a Quintesson prisoner, pretended to believe the story, and reassured the bot that he would see that his top-bots found you a way home.

After that, he kept you prisoner in a gilded cage, his pet now since you wouldn’t give him any information.

When D-16 and the High Guard were captured, you met D-16’s eyes and he became even more furious, wondering how you had gotten there and what Sentinel had done to him. Before that, you already admired D-16, but your admiration turned to complete adoration and contrarily, fear as he kept standing up in the face of adversity. He wouldn’t be kept down, no matter what they did to him. You cried a lot that day but you didn’t scream or do anything to draw attention to yourself, afraid that if you did, Sentinel would torture D-16 further.

[mindblowingscience]

There's less water in the mantle beneath the farside of the moon than in the mantle on the nearside, according to studies of the precious lunar samples brought back to Earth by China's Chang'e 6 mission. Furthermore, the findings bolster the theory that the moon formed when a giant, Mars-size protoplanet slammed into the young Earth about 4.5 billion years ago and sent a cascade of debris into orbit that coalesced into the powdery gray orb we see today. "We believe the new result is in line with the giant impact hypothesis of the moon," HU Sen, a professor at the Institute of Geology and Geophysics at the Chinese Academy of Sciences, told Space.com.

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