#voice-controlled robot dog

[petoiusa]

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[lay-z]

cotton candy clouds | 6

Synopsis: Due to his rank, status, and many combat achievements, Lieutenant Riley is assigned an emotional support hybrid by the brass; whether he likes it or not.

Pairing: handler!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x dog!hybrid!fem!Reader Warnings/Info: 18+ MDNI | Reader is a purebred Samoyed (dog)hybrid. Despite ears, tails, and their adapted nature/instincts/personalities, hybrids have human features. | bimbo!Reader; hypersexuality; slow-burnish; heavy smut; tw: past (sexual) abuse/manipulation; cussing; fluff/domesticity; humour; angst; hurt/comfort; eventual romance; strangers to lovers; dub-con elements (Mind the warnings for each chapter!)

☁ ccc; masterlist

It’s barely seven in the morning and Simon is already on his third steaming cup of black tea after yet another night of barely any sleep, where he instead indulged in his most primal urges for the first time in what felt like ages.

Two more times he’d done it after his steely resolve had crumbled at last. His balls feel lighter than ever but his cock, now sore and more sensitive to the slightest touch, makes him wince and clench his teeth whenever it chubs against the fabric of his underwear.

Worse than that though—it’s a reminder of what he’s done, just as much an evidence of him losing control of himself as his cum-stained hoodie still neatly folded and hidden behind a couch cushion until he’s able to bury it between his other dirty laundry.

He hasn’t thought about it before, but when the door to his bedroom creaks open, announcing that you’re awake, Simon becomes all too aware of the heavy, gut-wrenching knot of guilt now lodged in his intestines. How the bloody hell is he supposed to look you in the eyes after what he’s done?

When the sound of your bare feet padding along the floor reaches his ears, Simon doesn’t know what to do, how to behave, and he quietly curses Price, curses the brass, and curses the whole bloody universe again for continuously putting him in situations out of his control and comfort zone. He didn’t ask for any of this, doesn’t want to end up treating you like everyone else previously has—though he certainly didn’t ask for you like they obviously did.

“Good morning, Simon,” you chirp entering the kitchen, your voice still husky from sleep in a way that makes his hackles raise like a mutt’s.

Lifting his tea up to his lips, he mutters a gruff mornin’ into the black ceramic mug, not bothering to face you yet. He clucks his tongue, suddenly feeling like he owes you an explanation. “Didn’t ah–Didn’t know if ya eat breakfast, so I… didn’t make any.” Bloody Christ, Simon thinks, I just sound fucking daft at this point.

“I do like to eat breakfast,” you reply with a soft chuckle and he nearly jumps like a skittish kitten when your arm comes around him to rest low on his hip, your warm palm pressing lightly to urge him to move aside, away from the stove—your touch scorching his skin even through the fabric of his sweatpants.

Simon moves stiffly like a robot, grip tightening around his mug while he grits his teeth and wills his blood from rushing south again. So goddamn sensitive, he bites the tip of his tongue, afraid he might groan if he doesn’t stop himself.

“How did you sleep?” you ask casually enough to pull his mind out of the gutter as he finally manages to look at you while you continue talking. “I slept fine, but your bed is… oof… something else.” As if to emphasize your slight discomfort, you lift your arms and clasp them together above your head, stretching thoroughly with a yawn while your sleepshirt—still his bloody shirt—rides up high, exposing the front of your white cotton panties—and just like that, he loses control again, glances down, and gets a full view of the thin fabric perfectly moulding itself to your mound.

Simon curses under his breath, and right then, he fears he might faint from how fast his blood is rushing down to his cock. He grits his teeth, slams his mug down on the counter hard enough to make you flinch, causing you lower your arms at once while your ears flatten at the loud noise.

“Yeah, it’s… shite,” he rumbles in reply, furiously ignoring the questioning look in your doe-eyes, the furrow of your brows coming from the fear that you might have done something wrong again—it makes his mind cloud with anger and disappointment at himself, but it’s not enough to quench the throbbing arousal building deep in his gut.

“…‘scuse me,“ he mutters gruffly, already pushing past and fleeing from the kitchen before you can begin to say another word to him, though he can feel your eyes staring at his back as he retreats, internally cursing his cock currently straining in his pants again.

Shame seems to follow him throughout the day—whenever he catches sight of you, it turns out, and the flat that seemed perfect while he was alone, seems even smaller now that you’re here. There is nowhere to hide. You’ve marked your territory too well at this point, he figures, when he walks into his bedroom and finds your scent clinging to his bed sheets.

Subtle yet sweet like candied fruits with a hint of your natural musk—and his pupils blow like a shark catching a whiff of fresh blood in the depths of the ocean.

A shiver goes through the entirety of his spine, the phantom sensation pooling at his tailbone—uncomfortably familiar whenever he gets particularly excited or agitated—and a horrific reminder of what he is and which abhorred parts of him you bring forward so easily.

Eventually, he picks up his pillow and glances over his shoulder, guilt already clawing inside his chest while he listens to you still cooking breakfast in the kitchen, blissfully unaware of his degeneracy, before he takes a cautious sniff, then buries his nose deeper into the soft fabric before he finally smushes his whole face into it with a low, guttural groan.

His cock throbs harder in his briefs, painfully sensitive now, and his fingers twitch with restraint, digging harder into his pillow as if short from ripping it apart, when he feels the meagre excuse of a knot at the base of his shaft begin to swell, too.

Synapses start firing in his brain and something ancient awakens in himself—a primal instinct that urges him to possess, and protect, and claim you. It makes his gums and canines itch with the need to bite, makes him snarl into the pillow while his mouth starts to salivate, and he squeezes his eyes shut as the tiny, still normal part inside his brain screams at him to get a bloody grip!

It’s your melodic voice cutting through the fog in his brain that drags him out of his pathetic frenzy. He drops the pillow haphazardly, cheeks flushing and shoulders heaving as he tries to control his ragged breathing.

“Simon? Breakfast is ready if you’d like some,” you call out again, all soft and unsure, causing Simon to hate himself even more fiercely.

Simon enters the kitchen with his mask of stoicism fixed in place and his boner gone once more, though the scent of you, all warm and sleepy, keeps lingering in his nostrils, taunting him. It mixes with the mouth-watering aroma of a proper English breakfast and a fresh mug of tea next to the perfectly arranged plate—for him. You’ve cooked for him, again. He didn’t ask for this, didn’t have to, and you did it anyway.

When he sees you standing in front of the sink, scrubbing a pan in soapy dishwater, still only clad in his shirt while the morning sunshine peaks through the kitchen window and casts you in a soft, golden glow, it’s a vision of unfamiliar domesticity that makes his chest feel tight and his mouth go dry with emotions he dares not to name.

The chair scrapes over the floor as he pulls it back before taking a seat and staring down at the plate. His stomach growls on cue and Simon’s eyes flicker up to glance at your back again, noticing how your tail lifts the tattered shirt up, exposing your rear to him without a single care in the world—as if he wasn’t just a stranger to you, but a man you trust already.

And in this moment, Simon Riley makes a secret vow to himself.

“Thank you,” he says, meaning it genuinely, and he expects you to turn around, to flash one of your warm smiles at him, but you don’t though the light wagging of your white tail is telling enough.

Catastrophe strikes, when Simon returns home from the base gym in the early evening, secretly hoping for another homemade dinner, but finding his flat eerily quiet and cold instead.

The sun has already set and the temperature along with it. His thick hoodie clings to him like a second skin despite the sweaty tac shirt he’s wearing underneath, and with his balaclava still securely in place, he lets his gym bag drop to the ground, leaving it by the front door after locking it behind him.

His footsteps are measured and silent as he stalks into his living room—only to find it empty with a heavy sigh.

Did you leave while he was gone? No, highly unlikely. You know that’s against the rules, against the bloody hybrid law, actually. Simon shakes the thoughts from his head, ignores the tiniest flutter of panic in his chest and decides to simply call out your name instead—like a big boy.

“Since when are ya hidin’ from me?” he quips uncharacteristically, having pictured you greeting him with a wagging tail and sparkling eyes when his mind had slipped again on his short walk from the gym to the apartment complex, though he’s reluctant to even admit it to himself.

When he finally finds you, Simon freezes in the doorway to his bedroom, blood running cold with a whole-body shiver while his eyes widen comically behind the safety of his mask at the sight that greets him.

He’s been through hell and back multiple times, has witnessed—and done—the most horrific shite in both his military career and cursed childhood, and yet none of it could’ve prepared him for this.

You, sitting at the end of his bed right across from him, clutching his  painfully obvious cum-stained hoodie from last night against your quivering chest like it’s something precious instead of his despicable dirt, fat crocodile tears shimmering in your eyes as they flicker up to meet his.

For once in his life, since crawling out of his own grave, Simon Riley is too stunned to speak.

Why? Why? Why?! Why are you doing this to me?

“Simon,” you sniffle pathetically, sitting there clad in your pretty white knit dress. “Simon, do you–do you h-hate me?”

All air rushes from his lungs with a harsh exhale as if punched in the chest at the sound of your meek voice asking him this. Hate you? Bloody hell, he really should.

However, his mouth merely opens and then closes with something akin to a choked complaint, though it’s muffled by the black cloth covering his face. He’s thankful for it as he feels the searing heat of embarrassment creep up and settle on his cheekbones.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he curses under his breath before lunging forward in a fit of panic to snatch his hoodie out of your grip while his heart thumps violently against his ribcage. “Gimme that!”

You let out a high-pitched whine and duck your head submissively as he towers over you briefly, but Simon ignores your reaction in favour of his own quick retreat—not a Special Forces soldier but a coward falling back in this very moment as he swiftly turns to leave again, get as much space as he can; clutching the fabric tightly so he won’t end up punching a wall on his way out—and potentially scare you even worse.

Shame sinks and settles deep into his bones along with the freezing cold engulfing his flushed body once he steps out into the darkness, leaving the apartment complex behind him after throwing the wretched fabric into the nearby rubbish skip next to the large building.

Rucking his balaclava up over his nose, he puts a cigarette between his cracked lips and lights it methodically before taking a greedy drag on his way over to HQ—your file now safely tucked under his left arm.

[coldfanbou]

Clinical

Hi Everyone! Here's the piece for the week. I mentioned that I felt like I could make it a series, but I'm still not a hundred percent sure about it. So, I'll wait for some feedback on it. Anyway, prepare some time with Karina that involves a little rough sex and some breeding.

Length 2K

Karina X Mreader

In what could best be described as a hospital room, Karina pursed her lips and considered how the night would go. “Depositor entering the building,” A robotic voice says. Karina stared at the light by the door to her room; if she were chosen, it would light up a bright green. She had been on the list for a long time and wanted it to be her turn to finally get the chance to be bred. She recoiled as the shining light turned on. The door to her room opened immediately afterward; a nurse walked with a carefree smile. 

“Today’s the day, Karina. Would you like the shot?” 

Karina nodded, “It’ll be easier like that, right?”

“A lot easier. Just consider that it’ll be hard to control yourself for the day after. You’ll be like a dog in heat.” The nurse responds with a slight chuckle, having experienced it herself. “Do you still want to take it?” Karina agreed to it, and the nurse prepared the injection and Karina’s arm. “This is going to sting a little.” The nurse presses the needle into Karina’s skin, puncturing it and injecting the serum into her. “The system will notify you and your partner when you’re pregnant.”  Karina felt her body heat up as those words were spoken. She rubbed her legs together; they became slick with her juices in moments. Her breathing became heavy, and her nipples hardened, rubbing against her skin-tight outfit. She moaned lightly; her body was becoming incredibly sensitive. The nurse quickly cleaned the wound, applying a bandage before heading out. She pressed a button on the wall and left with the door shutting behind her. 

“Serum applied. Toys have been unlocked.”A voice says before a cupboard opens, revealing a myriad of toys. Karina eyes one of the dildos and goes for it. She moves the bottom of her one-piece to the side and pushes it inside as she bends over the counter. 

“Mhm, Ah,” Karina groans as she pushes the dildo inside her cunt. A thin layer of sweat develops on her skin as she fucks herself. Karina’s walls squeezed down on the toy as she moved it. Karina needed more, though. She grabbed at her breasts, shaking when her nipple rubbed against the cloth of her one-piece. She groaned but continued to play with herself, licking her lips as she imagined a real cock fucking her. “Fuck,” the dildo wasn’t enough for Karina. She needed more; dropping the dildo, she scoured through the cupboard until the door to her room opened.

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

“Thank you for your selection. Please proceed to the next room immediately,” the robotic voice of the vending machine says as it spits out a plastic card. You walk forward, scanning the hall as you head to your room. “Please scan your card.” You do so, thinking of the ridiculousness of having to scan the card it just gave to you. The metal door slides open, shutting behind you as you step inside. To your left was a screen that played a video you had seen dozens of times at this point. You sat down on the bed in the room and watched it. It seemed like nothing would happen until it finished. You were a little anxious about it all but happy about being chosen. Not many got that opportunity, much less with a selection as popular as you had. “Your partner is approaching; please remove your clothing,” says the same robotic voice of the room intercom. You follow the instructions and sit on the bed, waiting for your partner. 

The door slides open, and your partner for the night, Karina, stumbles through. She was wearing a skin-tight, high-waisted metallic one-piece and nothing else. Karina’s stiff nipple poked through the one-piece, and the one-piece itself was pulled high; her lower lips were completely visible, and her thighs were coated in her juices. The first thing you heard from her lips was a moan. Her eyes remained on the ground as one of her hands went to cunt, rubbing it roughly as the other squeezed her heavy breast. You knew how this worked. In making conceiving easier, the women were given the option to take a unique concoction that raised their libido and the likelihood of getting pregnant. Karina slowly raised her head, her eyes became glued to your cock, and she rushed to you. She dropped onto her knees and rubbed her face against it. Her tongue poked out from between her lips and ran along the underside of your cock, “A real cock,” Karina moans, dragging her tongue along it again before wrapping her lips around the tip. The slippery warmth of her mouth makes you groan; adding to your pleasure was the sensation of her tongue running back and forth over the tip. Karina placed her hands on your thigh as she pushed herself down on your cock, reaching the base. Karina’s eyes roll into the back of her head as she slobbers over your cock, her low groans flowing as she facefucks herself. You place your hand on the back of her head, forcing your cock down her throat. You feel it flex around your shaft, tightening around you. 

You push Karina away from you, knowing you are getting close to cumming. Her mouth is stained with saliva; her eyes are teary. You catch her rubbing her cunt through her swimsuit.  While you had pushed Karina’s mouth away, you hadn’t stopped her hands. They gripped your cock tightly, running along your shaft and stroking you. Your cock began to throb in her hands, and your strength left you. Karina pushed her way back to your cock, wrapping her lips around the tip and lapping at your cock. You lay back on the bed, trying to last a little longer, but it was useless. Karina’s muffled moans are all you can hear as she drinks your cum, placing her tongue at the tip and milking your cock by jerking you off. You look at her, watching as she revels in the taste of the salty liquid. 

Karina jumps on you a moment later, “I need more,” She mumbles as she grabs your cock, and points it to her cunt. She moves the bottom of her swimsuit to the side with her other hand. A moment later, Karina sinks onto your cock, filling herself. Karina squats over you, bouncing on your cock with enthusiasm. She bends over, running her tongue along your nipple. “I want your cum. I want you to put a baby in me.” She repeats with every bounce. Karina works the muscles, tightening her cunt around your cock. Her slippery walls had coated you in her nectar and made sliding further inside easier. The pleasure was overloading you, and you could barely move as Karina had her way with you.

Your body clapped as she pressed her weight against you. “Karina, I’m going to cum,” You groan.

“That’s okay. I want you to fill my needy pussy with your cum.” She whispered into your ear as she impaled herself on you. Your cock was beginning to throb inside her. Karina felt it and moved quickly, slamming herself onto you. “I’m so close. I’m so close.” She said, her saliva dripping onto you. As you near your climax, you watch her bouncing tits; they are hypnotizing. You reach out for one, cupping it and giving it a soft squeeze. “OH fuck!” Karina shouts dropping herself onto your cock. Her walls clamp down on your cock and force your climax. Karina remains seated on your cock as a torrent of your baby batter rushes into her fertile womb. Karina grinds against you as you calm down from your climax. You get into a seated position and run your hands along Karina’s back, unzipping her one-piece. She follows your lead, pulling her swimsuit off her body. Karina’s heavy tits swing as she forces the top half off her body. “I want more,” she groans, rubbing her clit. “I’m not pregnant yet.” 

You roll Karina onto her back and pull off her one-piece, leaving her completely naked. You spread Karina’s legs and rub your cock along her slit. You remember the videos and find Karina’s swollen clit and flick it. She throws her head back and roars. The sensation made her toes curl, but it didn’t end there. You pushed your cock inside her cunt, slipping inside with ease. Karina holds onto the bedsheets as you begin thrusts.  “Shit, fuck me,” Karina says through gritted teeth as you play with her body. You reach over with your other hand and pull on the hard nub of her left tit. Karina cries out in pleasure. Her sensitive nipples were being toyed with now, and she loved it. She wrapped her legs around your waist, using her feet to push you in deeper. Playing with her tits and clit was having its effect on Karina; she began to babble as you have your way with her. You lean over Karina, attaching yourself to her other nipple. You bite down on it and pull back, stretching her flesh and making her roar. 

You feel her walls tightening around you, her nails digging into your skin and scratching your back, marking you. “Cum,” Karina whines, struggling to get another word out as you drive your cock against her womb. Each thrust drags some of your cum out of her, and it pools around her.

“I’m going to cum too.” You moan as your cock begins to throb inside Karina. 

She feels it and pulls you in close. “Cum inside me, give me a baby!” She whines. You continue to slam against her pussy, her walls gripping you, trying to keep you inside.  Every movement pushes you and Karina closer to cumming. You shut Karina up with a kiss and roughly squeeze her tit as you bury yourself inside and dump another load of your semen inside her. You feel her body shake as she goes through another orgasm, and her mind goes blank. You give her a few soft thrusts, enjoying the way her cunt gripped you before pulling out. Cum leaked out from her, dripping onto the bed. 

“Congratulations, pregnancy secured.” The robotic voice blares through the room’s speakers. “Candidate, please proceed into the next room,” it follows. You grab your clothes and move to the next room, your eyes watching Karina before the door separates you. “Thank you for your participation in creating the next generation. A nurse will be with you soon.” The voice said. You didn’t know whether to put on your clothes, but before you could start, another door opened, and a nurse walked through it.

“Allow me to clean you up, sir.” She says before kneeling before you. You read the nametag on her as she wraps her lips around your cock and begins to clean you up. 

“Thank you…Taeyeon.” You groan; her deft tongue slithers along the underside of your cock, before moving along the sides. She slowly pulls back, kissing the tip before inspecting her work. She glances up at you and smiles, opening her mouth to show you all the cum she collected before swallowing. 

Taeyeon slowly rises to her feet. “You’re free to leave now, sir. Should something happen to your partner’s baby, you will receive a call so you can impregnate her again.” She says before leaving the room. You get yourself dressed and leave the clinic, hoping you get to return in the future.

Taeyeon was right about the serum's side effects. Karina could hardly control herself after the breeding was done. She was kept in a secluded room on a fuck machine. Bound with some chains, Karina was given orgasm after orgasm. The toy pumped her full of fake cum at certain intervals, helping satisfy that need. Her belly was bloated, and cum flowed out of her with every thrust, but she still wanted more. 

Once the serum wore off, Karina returned to her usual self and was given a tape of the experience to watch if desired. She couldn’t help herself and watched it that night. Seeing herself be nothing more than a beast in heat turned her on. She rubbed her lips, masturbating as she watched her time in the clinic.

[morgan-va]

Ena x G/N Reader HCs: An Ode To Isekai (Or, How You Destroy Her and Moony’s Sandwiches)

One moment, you were choking on a pickle that the employee at your favorite fast food restaurant neglected to remove. The next, you were plummeting through a swirling mess of distorted colors, shapes shifting around you like a broken computer screen. Gravity twisted in ways it shouldn’t, and just when you thought you’d keep falling forever—

THUD.

“AAAH! OUR BEAUTIFUL, PEACEFUL PICNIC! DESTROYED! TRAGEDY! WOE IS ME!”

The voice was loud, dramatic, and oddly robotic, and as you groaned, struggling to push yourself up, you realized you’d landed right on top of a checkered picnic blanket… and two figures. One was an angular, multi-colored humanoid flailing her arms wildly, and the other was a round, moon-faced being staring blankly at you.

The nausea was instant. The sky was glitching, the grass beneath you was pixelated, and the entire world meshed together with low-poly graphics. Panic clawed at your chest.

“Oh! How fascinating! A new specimen! A new friend! A LOST SOUL!” The colorful girl’s tone flipped in an instant, her arms outstretched as if you were some grand discovery.

You barely had time to react before she yanked you upright with alarming strength. “Salutations! My name is Ena! And you are…?”

ENA is immediately, intensely curious about you. One second she’s mourning the loss of her sandwiches, the next she’s staring at you with her face way too close to yours, inspecting you like you’re some rare artifact.

“How peculiar! You have skin! And your eyes—so full of FEAR and EXISTENTIAL DREAD! Adorable!”

The one apparently named Moony, still sitting on the ground, tilts her head. “You look sick. Don’t vomit on my blanket.”

You do, in fact, feel sick. The ground beneath you doesn’t feel real, and the sky keeps shifting between daytime and nighttime. Your body feels out of place in this world.

“Oh nyo, my new chum is feewing siwck :c dis is allll my fauwlt” Ena cries, polygonal tears falling out of her eyes and literally bouncing off of you. However, she notices your shaky breathing, and she seems to pause her breakdown. Then her tone shifts into something oddly clinical. “Ah. I see. Overwhelmed. Confused. Rapid heart rate. Nausea. Ah, yes. Yes yes yes. Yes yes. Expected results.”

“Do not worry, my fleshy, fragile companion! I, Ena, shall teach you the ways of this realm! Perhaps you shall THRIVE! Or perish horribly. But no! I shall ensure your survival! HOPEFULMISTICALLY!”

She switches between exaggerated theatrics and cold, matter-of-fact, and often bizarre statements at random, which does not help your anxiety.

At first, her advice isn’t very helpful, or well, maybe it is, at this point you aren’t sure of anything anymore. “Do not drink the water from the drinking fountains. Or do. It might turn you into a dog. Or erase your mouth. It’s a gamble! And you know what God says about that!”

Eventually, though, she starts learning how to help in a more… normal way. She slows down when she notices you trembling, and after a long pause, she mutters, “You feel like you don’t belong here, don’t you?”

It’s the first time her voice sounds completely even. No wild swing, no emotional outburst, Just quiet understanding, as if both of her sides are coequal in their understanding.

She places a hand on your shoulder. “I know that feeling. I still feel that way, most of the time.”

“But,” she continues, suddenly perking up, her yellow side taking control again, “I have ADAPTED! And so can you!”

You’re not entirely convinced. But the way she begins doing a strange dance around you like you’ve already won something makes it hard to stay hopeless.

“Besides! You have me now! A trusty, glorious, questionably competent guide! Let us find you STABILITY! Or at least, a divine snack.”

Moony finally chimes in again. “... You still crushed my sandwich.”

Ena gasps. “And a REPLACEMENT SANDWICH! Quickly, to the food vendor! Or the wishing well! Maybe we’ll be lucky and summon a perfect BLT (Barely Legible Tomato) from the void!”

[b1asho]

Some noises/stuff on their voice:

As said in the image, Prectikar all sound like theyre masculine to humans when speaking through their nose. Only male prectikar have a larger throat sac and special flaps in it to make their shrieks/barks/etc, females can only really do like a dog bark noise or the grumbles and soft-speak. As for the animals I included, Prectikar can't roar (yes that means they can purr) but they make a lot of other bear-like chuffs and snuffles. They can shriek and snort (which kind of sounds like a horse) bellow (similar to an alligator in noise, occasionally more like a cassowary or other rattite) and bark (similar to a seal), and if pushed the right way they can make a sort of elephant trumpet noise through their nose (also similar to an elephant are their deep-throated noises) They can also make some hoots and grunts that sound like a howler monkey or gorilla.

Rossetians sound like they have a stuffy nose to us (which doesn't help disperse their nerdy erm actually reputation). They make a lot of teeth clicks and tongue noises when speaking, and I included a marmot because they can make a noise around the pitch of a rossetian whistle. I also included a tapir for reference of some of their other squeal noises. They can also kind of moo like a cow but I forgot that.

Kixeli are very good at mimicry but occasionally will slide into more creaky and whistly speech instead of mostly human tones. They croak like toucans do, and also make a lot of other bird-ish chirps and beak claps. They make a lot of loud repeating noises like a kookaburra, and that jabbery/laughy noise is the vibe for how a lot of their vocalizations sound to the untrained ear. The African Gray's voice is close to what they sound like when not trying super hard at human speech, and can get more precise and even make inanimate object noises like a starling. Look up any monkey (macaque, gibbon, etc) screaming/hooting video if you want to k ow what they sound like when scared or very excited.

Cerest speak in short, controlled bursts, usually in a monotone. An almost electronic hum and buzziness is always a part of their natural voice, usually to the point where they're unintelligible. They can make some small trills and mews like a cat, or yowl if they align their throat right. Screaming like a mountain lion is a sundyne thing, drecu screams are like that but more like a cicada if that makes sense. Some of their other misc noises that come from airflow or just them moving their mouthparts and beak are like locusts, mole crickets, click beetles, and the capuchinbird. Depending on the quality of their artificial voice, they can sound either on a Miku level or shitty off-brand robot.

Using their non-host voice, Muttreazik range from microwave humming noises to ear bleeding high pitched shrieks or organ shuffling low pitches. I didn't really know how to draw that so no worms in this post yet again

[siggyhunt]

Fic wip: Dogman actually can talk, he just chooses not to, because of numerous possibilities and a multitude of reasons. But because he chooses not to, nobody knows that he actually can in the first place. So it's especially jarring when he finally does.

It's the weekend, and Petey and LP are out on the town, bonding during one of Petey's rare days off. Dogman is at the station, filling out some leftover paperwork that he's been putting off. It's nice and relaxing, and the cat duo are having a wonderful time just hanging out, father and son, eating gelato at the park. Petey takes and sends pictures so that Greg feels better, knowing how he hates being left out, and the dog finds it so cute how his kitties think of him during their day together.

So imagine his surprise when the updates suddenly stop.

He doesn't worry at first; it's their day after all, they're probably just having fun. But as time passes, he gets more and more worried. What on earth are they doing? Are they okay, what happened? It gets to the point where so much time has passed, that he's completely abandoned his papers, and his eyes stay glued to his phone. Chief walks out of his office, having noticed Greg's drifting attention. But before he can actually say anything about it, alarms start to blare, and a voice rings out:

There's been a kidnapping at the park.

And Greg has no idea how to prove it, but he knows, that deep in his soul, in his heart of hearts, that it's his family that's been taken.

A growl rips out of him, and it's the loudest anyone has ever heard from the usually happy dog. Even louder, more emotionally driven, than during the worst of Petey's villain days. A rage like none other billows off of him, charged with the fear that only a man about to lose his family can possess.

His phone is tight in his hands, and he rushes out of the building, dialing Petey's number, hoping that either the cat will pick up, or the kidnapper will. He can already feel the vibrations in the city; yet another Mech made to cause him grief, and he would roll his eyes in annoyance if he wasn't so fu- fricking terrified right now. Chief hops in a car, and Greg high-tails in after him, continuing to call while the sirens blare.

While the cops are screeching through the streets, Li'l Petey and Petey are tied up in a warehouse, Piggy snorting maniacally as he controls the giant Mech in front of them, having apparently learned his lesson on not actually being in the robot this time so he doesn't immediately get arrested. Dr. Scum sets up a camera, pointing it at the two cats, and hacks into the radio waves, broadcasting their feed onto everything, along with the news stations.

On the screens not showing the livestream, Sarah stands on the street with the giant robot, footage showing the destruction going on, and taking cover behind a fallen slab of concrete, a bridge not far behind them. Suddenly, Chief's police cruiser arrives at the scene, and the two cops tumble out, Chief immediately clearing the way for civilians to escape.

Dogman stares for a few seconds, analyzing the situation, his face contorted into a terrifying rage. Apparently noticing something that nobody else does, he looks back at Sarah, and points away from the bridge, telling her to leave in case it falls.

And before anyone else can say anything, he tears back into the car, tires squealing as he turns around and drives away.

A few seconds of absolute silence, Piggy and Dr. Scum staring at the news feed in shock, before howling laughter leaves the two villains. Dogman, leaving the active crime? How ludicrous! And that fear on his face? He must've been scared out of his mind! That'll teach that mutt not to mess with us! Did you see that, Petey? Your precious Dogman isn't going to save you!

A few more seconds of laughter, and a few more seconds of destruction, before the quiet sounds of a roaring engine start to pick up on Sarah's microphone. It's being broadcasted on the news channel, and it's heard by the two villains who have the station pulled up with their ransom feed, and their laughter pauses. Right as the robot is about to run into and knock down the bridge, Dogman peals down the road, swerving off the side of the bridge, and ramming right into the head of the machine, the momentum knocking it down onto the empty street, with the car landing on the robots chest.

Shock and awe all around, and Greg kicks the door open, stepping out on top of the robot. Some small cheering is heard down below, before it quiets at the snarl on Greg's face. The news feed zooms in as he pulls his phone back out, dialing Petey's number again. The hacked on footage of Dr. Scum and Piggy is silent, the two scientists standing in shock, before it gets broken by the sound of Petey's phone.

Silently, Piggy grabs it and sends Dogman to voice-mail, and let's the phone call out the missed contacts.

“You have: 25, New messages, from: Gregory”

“You have: 32, Missed calls, from: Gregory”

“You have: One. Voice-mail. From. Gregory.”

“Would you like to listen?”

Piggy hits accept.

“PIGGY. PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE. YOU STUPID BITCH. WHERE THE FUCK IS MY FAMILY?! WHERE ARE THEY?! PIGGY, I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME. PICK UP THE PHONE. GODDAMMIT!”

“End message. Would you like to call back?”

[altin-studies]

Bangladeshi female student having a seizure in shock of being beaten in University of Dhaka

It's been 240 hours. I keep watching as my country turns into those dystopian fantasies I love reading about. Except there's no happy ending, there's no epic good vs evil fight.

It's my government, my police, my law enforcement units beating and killing my fellow students without any remorse, any judgement.

I love my country. Without any kind of doubt. I have been taught patriotism since my childhood. But how can I love my people and motherland any further when all it wishes to do is to kill, kill, kill.

Police throwing tear shells in University of Dhaka from tanks

We live in a dystopia. Our law enforcement is here to kill brilliant students, students that want to make changes, students who speak up about their rights, students who build drones and robots. Our mainstream media wants the police to shoot at students so they can get exciting videos.

And they can get away with it. If social media is the only centre of our voice, then they'll block our internet. If the roads are where we protest, they'll order curfew.

Students attending funeral (without bodies) for the students killed by police shootings

My university wants nothing to do with us. They're above student protests, they're above having any ounce of responsibility for the death of so many of my brothers and sisters. "It's out of my control", our vice-chancellor says. And our chancellor? Well the president has had speech disorder for years now. He'll be back for convocation and cutting ribbons soon.

They'll end the curfews soon enough. They will tell us to go back to the campus they drove us out of with gunfire and tear shells. But how will we do so while we have a conscience? How can I step over the blood shed by my fellow students? How will I go back to classworks and labs and hangouts when there have been dead bodies in those streets merely weeks ago?

Injured dog (presumed dead by now) at the University of Dhaka campus

But it doesn't matter. This world does not care about genocides of millions of children in Palestine. Why would it care about 500 innocent students in such a small country like Bangladesh? My country, where equal chances at jobs and education needs a bloodier movement than establishing our language. Such a primitive land, isn't it?

The green is gone. It hasn't been here for such a long time. I'm sorry for being so hopeless and useless and helpless.

[slashyrogue]

Will sometimes pretended to be asleep.

It wasn't all the time.

Just sometimes.

The whole thing started when he'd heard footsteps in the dark one night. It was only him and Hannibal in the house, the dog hadn't yet entered their lives, and he'd wanted to see what Hannibal would do.

He did nothing.

Seconds turned to minutes, then minutes became hours, and Will actually did start to feel sleepy again just waiting for him to leave. He felt an odd sensation begin to spread when Hannibal's warm breath was suddenly just there, teasing his mouth, and he could smell Hannibal's cologne.

Will felt heat fill him the longer he just stood so close and was grateful for the blanket to hide his arousal. He expected something, anything, but when Hannibal just left it felt oddly like rejection.

And then realization.

This wasn't the first night.

And---it wasn't the last.

Hannibal came to his bedroom several times a week, sometimes lasting an entire week before he couldn't resist, and Will always knew. Will began to track the days, the amount of time, and how much closer he got each visit.

The closeness never changed.

Hannibal never touched him.

He just looked.

The two of them had been building up camaraderie the past few months after the fall, talking more often in jest and even sometimes poking fun at their past. It felt nice to be friendly again, he'd missed him, and he pushed aside other things.

Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes. But do you ache for him?

Will wasn't ready to answer that question.

Really, he wasn't.

And yet, he kept pretending for months.

It excited him, knowing Hannibal might come, waiting sometimes all night to be disappointed in the dark.

This lasted nearly a month before he finally broke.

Their daily lives hadn't changed, not even a little, though Will did notice some things more about Hannibal he hadn't. How Hannibal's gaze would linger on his hands, his mouth, and sometimes even on him as he walked away.

He noticed how Hannibal would wait patiently for him to take the first bite at every meal, his face lighting up when Will voiced his pleasure, and how nearly every time they sat close his hand on the table looked ready to touch Will's own but just....didn't.

Hannibal's control what it came to his feelings seemed almost robotic.

And it pissed Will off.

That night he was on edge in the dark, tense, and the minute Hannibal stepped foot into his room he opened his eyes.

"Will, I----"

"Don't," Will sighed, "Just....just don't. Come here."

Hannibal hesitated before he came to sit on the opposite side of Will's bed. "You're angry."

"I'm not angry."

"Every part of your body is taunt, and your eyes are filled with anger. I know your angry expressions, Will. I know your....I know when you're not angry and this is not one of those times."

He sighed and put his hand over his eyes.

"Ok, I'm a little angry."

"How long?"

"Months."

Hannibal was quiet.

"How long before I...."

"Since that first night."

Will moved his hand. "Really? Why?"

Hannibal's smile was sad. "Will, you know why."

He bit his lip, chewing almost painfully, and Hannibal looked away.

"We have danced around our feelings for one another since the first day we met. I would never force you to be anything other than my companion, even if I wish for more, and you....."

"What if I do too?"

Hannibal turned around fast. "What?"

Will moved closer, their fingers brushing, and Hannibal's hand was trembling as he entwined their fingers. "What if.....I want more too?"

"Will...."

"You've been coming in here for forever, and I've only.....the first time I was curious, the second I was surprised, and after that.....I got excited."

Hannibal climbed on the bed then slowly and squeezed their hands together. "You must know what this would mean if you agree to....more."

Will laughed. "Obviously," he teased, turning so fast then he was able to get Hannibal down in seconds, leaning over him, "I've known....I knew you had feelings for me before, I just.....you're.....god you're shaking."

Hannibal blinked back tears. "The man I love is touching me with intent to.....to perhaps....."

He smiled, their lips closer now, and Hannibal let out a soft sigh.

"To perhaps what, Doctor Lecter? Kiss you?"

"Will...."

Will traced his finger across Hannibal's lips, watching his eyelashes flutter as he let out a low moan, and his own cock twitched in response. "Oh."

"Will what....."

"You're so responsive," he whispered, swallowing, "You....you really want this, huh?"

Hannibal glared at him. "Will, you are the one who----"

Will kissed him then, couldn't not, and the minute their lips touched Hannibal melted under him. His hands came to Will's hair, running through as he messed it, and Will ached knowing who was touching him.

Hannibal.

Hannibal was kissing him.

Hannibal was touching him.

Hannibal....loved him.

Will felt tears fall down his cheeks as he pulled at Hannibal's shirt, needing to touch moremoremore, and when they were skin to skin they couldn't stop. He pulled back, panting as he lifted his over his head, and watched the desire fill Hannibal's eyes.

"Will, you're...."

He reached up to touch Will's face, surprising him, and Will put his own hand there as he let out a long sigh.

"A little ugly but...."

Hannibal's eyes narrowed. "Your scars make you mine, Will. Every inch of you remembers our moments together, every....." he pulled him down, kissing Will again, "....touch....." he kissed him, "Taste....and....sound....you make.....makes you the....." he stopped, lip quivering, and smiled, "The man I would tear apart the world for. There is no part of you that is ugly. The world is ugly. Life is ugly. You...." he pulled him down till their foreheads touched, "You are the most beautiful creature on the face of the earth."

Will closed his eyes. "Jesus Christ, you don't do anything by halves do you?"

Hannibal laughed. "I think we've established that several years before now."

Will laughed, kissing him again, and soon they were lost in each other. He couldn't remember sex ever feeling so tender, so loving, and even when they were biting at each other's skin he felt whole. They held each other after, still catching their breaths, and when Hannibal moved to get up he tightened his hold.

"No."

"Will, we're both quite filthy."

"I don't care."

Hannibal sighed. "You will care in the morning."

"No, I won't."

Will woke up the next morning completely cleaned and alone. He frowned, a little hurt, and went to move just as Hannibal pushed in a very large cart.

He blinked. "How did you get that up the stairs?"

"With great difficulty."

He laughed.

The cart carried breakfast.....and a rather large red box.

"You had time to clean me off, make breakfast, and get me a present? What time did you wake up?"

Hannibal kissed him before he sat beside him with the box.

"Five o'clock."

"You're insane."

"Obviously."

Will grinned, then saw he had no plate. "You're not eating?"

"I ate already, Will, I assure you. Though I would like you to open the box first."

Will blinked. "Um, ok?"

He put the box down, the elaborate red paper almost too nice, and he pulled the bow which made the whole box open like magic.

There was a pink dog collar in the middle of the box and nothing else.

Will looked up. "Hannibal...."

"She is coming tomorrow."

He shook his head as tears filled his eyes. "We can't get a dog."

"We're safe here in Havana, Will," he said, taking the collar to put it into Will's palm, "I promise you."

Will kissed him, his chest tight as the thought of a dog entering their lives became real, and when they pulled apart he touched Hannibal's cheek.

"If this is what I get the first time we have sex, what the hell are you gonna get me for our first anniversary gift?"

Hannibal blinked.

"Hannibal?"

"You....you expect us to have....such a milestone?"

Will touched his cheek. "You don't? You honestly think now that I have you I'm letting you go? You can even think of letting me go?"

"No, Will, but----"

He put his finger across Hannibal's lips. "Then shut up, and think about all the presents you're gonna buy me, ok? So many presents."

Hannibal smiled. "I have always wanted to spoil you."

Will smiled. "I know."

Hannibal did end up spoiling him on their first anniversary.

He got a boat.

That was, of course, after all the other anniversaries before it.

Will didn't mind.

Not one bit.

Though sometimes, still, for years after he'd pretend to be asleep.

And Hannibal would pretend he didn't know.

But he did touch him.

Every single time.

[guardian25]

Short stories of sahsrau inspired by @suiana thanks for the permission to write this and if you read it I hope you enjoy.

CW: bad grammar, blood, mentions of death

You ran wincing at the pain of the of the cuts on your skin from the count less attempts and blisters on your feet for running for so long. You didn’t know they were real nothing in the game suggested they were anything but fictional characters. If you had known you would have never touched the game, spend so many hours fighting the same monsters and bosses over and over again. Yet here you are running from the characters you loved and cherished, that gave you a distraction from the darkest moments in your life hunting you down like a rabid dog, A parasite that needs to be purged. Your body ached for rest yet you couldn’t stop running with stelle being distracted by the other members of the astral express you had no one to protect you. So you ignore the stinging cuts, the bleeding blisters, the mud clinging to your skin, the constant body aches and the distant yelling of characters…no people you cared about wishing you a slow painful death.

As the bright sun dips into the horizon and night falls you were able the slow down the cover of night was always a comfort to you. It was harder to see at night and people who were up at night like silver wolf couldn’t hurt you. Not because she didn’t try when she saw you but because Elio’s script didn’t allow it so at not it was a game of strategy to not get caught unlike the morning which was more like temple run. As you walk through the brush of the woods covered in mud and your own blood you manage to find a place to rest on the forest floor you body crying out in pain and exhaustion. you look out at the stars and the distant planets filled with people who hate you people who want you dead. Tears roll down your face as you watch the galaxy from the muddy pit you were in.

After a few short hours of not restful sleep you woke up to the sound of yelling close yelling of voices you recognized Himeko, Welt, voices from members of the IPC, the Loufu, and Belobog. This was it they caught you even if you could run they were to close you could never run fast enough to get away. Your body cried in pain refusing to move and as they walked up to you all you could do was cry soft as the world around you seemed to collapse in all around you. Their anger voices sounding so distant despite being right in front of you and as you watch you all take aim ready to finally kill the dog they have been chasing for weeks but just as they got ready to strike just as the got as you finally accepted you would die a painful death something seemed to happen freezing them in place as a voice booms from what felt like all directions

“I knew we should have stepped in early! They were about to kill darling god! she helped them become stronger enough to defeat their enemies and guide them through challenge after challenge and this is how they thank them!” the voice masculine dripping with rage. “Fine I concede nanook, I believed the people who followed my path and who I gave my power to would be smart enough to not during harm to the only being that truly had only their best interests at heart.” The voice the responsed was robotic giving no emotion but what sounded like disappointment but even that seemed artificial. “We could always get rid of them start new with creatures that will treat them as the merciful god she is” the voice continued to speak to each all different names Nanook, Aha, fuli, HooH, Lan, Mythus, Nous, Qlipoth, Terminus, Xipe, and Yaoshi. The names of the voices. The names of the aeons that are said to be in constant war to gain control over the entirety of universe agree to put all of that aside to kill all living things that ever spoke ill of you that wished harm on you that wish you dead.

“WAIT!” you yelled standing with your last bit of energy. Your yelling silencing the voices of the aeons “Don’t hurt them I’ve seen enough pain. I’ve caused them enough pain for a lifetime. I treated them like pawns in a game but in my world it was a game if I had known they were alive that I locked them in place when i logged in that they felt even hit from the countless fights I put them through I would have never played the game.” Your eyes start to water more as you speak begging the aeons to spare the people who you hurt the people who tried to kill you. “I could never forgive myself if I let they all get killed because of me not when I used them as a distraction from my own world”

The silence was tense uncomfortable every part of your body to just collapse into sleep “darling are you sure you don’t want us to get rid of theme for you” yaoshi spoke with slightly shock in their voice “yes don’t hurt them please” the aeons not wanting to go against their darling gods will agree to leave and not start the universe a new leaving you with the silent characters they had gutted you for weeks but you let them leave even if it might that after the aeons lift you could be killed and as the watch you collapse all they could do is stare at your weak unconscious body on the ground. After that those who tried to hurt you avoid you you made it easy for them since you would run for them if you saw them. But watching you interact with those who were kind to you play with children and animals they started to see you differently and maybe one day they’ll come up to you to talk.

[charliedawn]

Hey! How would Kevin react if his crush's father, Eddie Gluskin, wanted Morgan to be the one his daughter was with? What would he do if Morgan actually did like the same woman he did?

Kevin leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, trying to control the fire simmering inside him. His crush had just left after some visit, but the conversation still echoed in his mind, gnawing at him like a wild animal. It wasn’t her words that stung—it was her father’s.

Eddie Gluskin, that her dad Eddie Gluskin, had voiced his preference quite clearly.

"Morgan would make such a fine match for my daughter," he had said, almost offhandedly, during a casual conversation at the dining table. Kevin had felt the words like a punch to the gut.

Morgan ? Morgan ?! That pompous bastard ?!

Kevin's jaw clenched as he glanced toward the living room where his brother sat, casually reading one of his medical books, completely unaware—or uncaring—about the storm brewing inside Kevin.

Eddie's words swirled around Kevin's head: Morgan is responsible, reliable, a "good man." Kevin’s fists tightened. And what the hell was he ?! Dog poop ?! What was it about Morgan that people always preferred ? Sure, Morgan had that cool and mysterious intellect, the polished mannerisms, the perfect doctor charm that seemed to attract anyone and everyone in a 5 miles radius��But he knew his brother. Underneath that cool exterior, Morgan was a cold and selfish first-class asshole—a damn robot compared to him !

And now…now Morgan was threatening to steal the one thing Kevin had truly ever wanted for himself.

Kevin stormed into the living room, the sound of his boots slapping against the floor echoing in the air. He wasn’t the kind of guy to stew quietly—he was a force, and when something got under his skin, he had to let it out. And right now ? There was that little cockroach he unfortunately had to call brother that was reading a book while pretending not to notice him that he had to take care of !

"Morgan."

Morgan barely glanced up from his book. "Yes ?"

Kevin could hear the irritation in his brother’s voice, and that only fueled his own anger. "Did you hear what Y/N’s father said today ?"

Morgan raised a brow, finally lifting his eyes to meet Kevin’s. "I assume you are referring to his comment about me being a good match for his daughter ?"

Kevin’s eyes narrowed. So he HAD heard that. That prick…THAT A-graded member of the backstabbing club ! "Yeah, that. What the hell, Morgan ? You know I like her."

Morgan gave a small shrug, as if this was nothing more than a trivial conversation. "It is not like I asked for his approval. He was simply making an observation."

"That’s not the point !" Kevin finally snapped, stepping closer, his voice low and dangerous. "You didn’t even care about her before. Now, suddenly, because Daddy Gluskin likes you, you’re interested ?"

Morgan closed his book, finally giving Kevin his full attention. "Kevin, I am not trying to steal her from you. But if I happen to like her as well, there is no rule saying I cannot pursue her."

The casual tone of Morgan’s voice was enough to make Kevin’s blood boil. No rule ? Kevin wanted to laugh. Of course Morgan would say that, with his clinical, emotionless way of handling things. He probably thought this was some sort of logical chess game, where feelings didn’t matter.

"She’s mine, Morgan !" Kevin hissed. "And you—"He jabbed a finger toward Morgan’s chest. "—you knew that. That’s the only reason for that sudden interest. Besides, you don’t even know how to feel anything ! You think you can make her happy ? You think you can be what she needs ? Look at you, mate. You wouldn’t stand a chance against me !"

Morgan stood up now, towering over Kevin, his calm demeanor never wavering. "Right. I forgot. You’re the funny one. And you think that would be enough against me ? That it would be enough to make her happy ? With your impulsiveness ? Your lack of control ? Do you really believe you’re what’s best for her ? Come on, little brother. You may look like a man, but we both know the truth. You are still just a boy."

Kevin’s fists tightened at his sides, his entire body tensed. He could hear the smugness in Morgan’s voice, that damn superior tone that always made Kevin feel small, less important. He wasn’t going to let that happen this time.

"Maybe you’re right," Kevin said, his voice low and his eyes glaring daggers at his so-called brother. "Maybe I’m not the perfect guy. Maybe I’m not as polished or as stable as you. But at least I feel something. At least I’m not some emotionless robot who thinks relationships are just about compatibility."

Morgan’s gaze darkened, but Kevin didn’t back down.

"You don’t know her the way I do," Kevin continued. "You don’t get her. She’s creative, passionate, unpredictable—she deserves someone who can match that, someone who’s not afraid to take risks. And that’s not you."

For a moment, the two brothers stood there in tense silence, the weight of their rivalry thick in the air. Kevin could feel his heart pounding, the adrenaline rushing through his veins. He wasn’t going to let Morgan take this away from him. Not this time.

But then, to Kevin’s surprise, Morgan’s lips curved into a small, cold smile.

"We’ll see," Morgan said quietly, his voice calm, yet dripping with condescension. "Maybe she’ll make the choice for us."

With that, Morgan turned and walked away, leaving Kevin standing there, his chest heaving with frustration and anger. His fists trembled, the urge to punch that prick until his smile was gone rising inside him, but he held back, knowing it wouldn’t solve anything.

Morgan’s words echoed in his mind. Maybe she’ll make the choice for us.

Kevin gritted his teeth. No, he wasn’t going to leave this up to fate. He wasn’t going to let Morgan win without a fight. If Eddie Gluskin wanted Morgan to be with his daughter, Kevin would show him—show them all—that he was the better choice. He stormed outside, needing to clear his head, but the fire in his chest didn’t die down. If Morgan wanted to play this game, Kevin was more than ready. He wasn’t about to let his brother—or someone like Eddie Gluskin—dictate who was best for you…

This was war now.

And Kevin wasn’t planning on losing.

Meanwhile with you and Eddie in the car:

The atmosphere in the car was tense as the engine purred quietly beneath you. You sat in the passenger seat, fingers lightly tapping against your leg as you looked out the window, trying to avoid your father’s intense gaze. Eddie Gluskin was never one for silence, but right now, the air between you felt heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Eddie, driving with one hand on the wheel and the other drumming against the center console, finally broke the silence. His voice, smooth yet firm, cut through the quiet.

"So," he began, not even glancing at you, "Morgan Hannibal, huh ?"

You turned slightly in your seat, biting your lip. You had noticed your father’s subtle approval earlier, but you hadn’t expected him to bring it up like this. You cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice neutral. "Yeah, he’s...nice."

Eddie hummed thoughtfully, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "Nice," he echoed, as if the word didn’t quite capture what he was getting at. "He’s more than nice, sweetheart. He’s stable. Intelligent. A doctor, no less." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "He could offer you a very...secure future."

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, though it was hard. You knew exactly what your father was getting at. Eddie always had a way of making his opinions sound like carefully thought-out observations rather than forceful suggestions, but you weren’t fooled.

"He’s a little too...serious for me, don’t you think ?" you ventured carefully, trying to steer the conversation in a direction that wouldn’t cause an argument.

Eddie glanced at you briefly, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Serious is good. Serious means he’s focused, reliable. Someone you can count on. Don’t you want someone like that ?"

You sighed inwardly. You knew this was coming, the whole ‘Morgan is the perfect match’ conversation. And sure, Morgan had all those qualities Eddie admired—stability, intelligence, the whole doctor thing—but that wasn’t everything. Not to you, anyway.

“Well, Kevin’s a good guy too, Dad," you said, your voice a little firmer than before. "He’s passionate, creative and warm—kind. We get along really well."

Eddie’s smile faltered slightly, but his expression remained composed. "Kevin is…a very nice boy," he said carefully, as if testing the word. "But that is exactly what he is. A boy. Unpredictable. Impulsive. Thoughtless. You never know what you’re going to get with him. And he doesn’t exactly scream security."

"And that’s not a bad thing," you countered, folding your arms over your chest. "He’s exciting, Dad. He’s fun. He makes me laugh."

Eddie’s fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel, and he cast a sidelong glance at you. "Fun doesn’t last forever, darling. Passion fades. What matters in the long run is who’s still there when the excitement wears off."

You bit your lip, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. You loved your father, but sometimes he could be so frustratingly narrow in his thinking. You weren’t blind to Kevin’s faults—he could be impulsive, sure, and sometimes his temper got the better of him—but he had a good heart. And you knew him in ways Eddie couldn’t understand.

You turned to your father, your voice softer this time. "I know you like Morgan, Dad. And I get it—he’s everything you think a good partner should be. But Kevin’s more than just fun. He cares about me, and he’s not afraid to show it."

Eddie’s brow furrowed slightly, and for a moment, the car was quiet again, only the sound of the tires against the road filling the space.

"I just want what’s best for you," Eddie said quietly, his voice laced with genuine concern. "You deserve someone who can give you everything. Not just the good moments, but the stability and security you need."

You felt a pang in your chest at your father’s words. You knew he was only trying to protect you, but you wished he could see things from your perspective. Kevin had always been there for you. He was the Hannibal you had met first and who had made your days less boring and far more enjoyable than anyone else. You barely knew Morgan. He was almost a stranger to you, and he wasn’t exactly warm or welcoming. He had treated you with nothing more but complete indifference since the day you had met…What was your Dad expecting from this union but for you to spend your days indoors and bored out of your mind ?

"I know, Dad," you said softly, your gaze drifting back to the window. "But what if what’s best for me is someone who’s a little messy, a little unpredictable ? What if I want more than just stability ?"

Eddie didn’t respond right away, and you wondered if you had finally said something that gave him pause. The silence stretched between you, not uncomfortable, but heavy with the weight of your differences.

Finally, Eddie sighed. "I trust you, sweetheart. You know that. But...just think about what I’ve said. Morgan could be a very good choice."

You nodded, though your thoughts were already far from Morgan. You weren’t going to let your father’s preferences dictate your feelings. Kevin might not be perfect, but there was something about him that drew you in, something that made you feel alive in a way Morgan’s polished perfection never could.

"Yeah," you murmured. "I’ll think about it…"

[hope-to-hell]

Electric (when you're near) part three: the ol' switcheroo. Agent Stone x Ivo Robotnik. Once again, no warnings (although I swear there will be in future parts). They have their moment of realization: something has Gone Wrong. Story masterlist here.

------

Time is meaningless. Linear time was invented to satisfy the innate human need for order, to quantify and contain one’s surroundings. If, for example, one were to say meet me for coffee at nine o’clock, the meeting would be placed in a neat box in which arrival— and presumably departure— occurs at a specific point agreed upon by both parties. There’s none of the leeway given to a meeting as nonspecific as meet me for coffee tomorrow morning. That would require everyone involved to have an instinctive understanding of a) what counts as morning, and b) the optimal time to sit on the terrace of their favorite cafe and feel the caffeine slowly prying open their veins.

All this is to say that Stone has no fucking idea how long he’s been out. When he groans to wakefulness, the lab is lit only by dull red emergency lights; he’s sore from tits to toenails and has the absolute worst headache. The fuck happened? Even his voice sounds wrong. Doctor? Are you alright? For one horrifying, endless moment there is no reply, no sound but that of the blood pounding in his ears.

Gah. Did anyone get the number of that bus? Oh, thank the stars. Halfway across the room, Ivo staggers to his feet; he swims in and out of focus, surrounded by iridescent haloes. What are those things called again? Sun dogs? Sunbows? Whatever they are: those things that shimmer like oil slicks on high clouds. That’s what Ivo looks like.

Must’ve hit my head. Everything feels off-kilter. Displaced. Doctor? We should get you to a hospital. That much electricity can’t be good for the human body.

Fuck your hospital. I just need a nap and some tylenol and I’ll be good to go. Grab the baby and let’s get out of here. Deathbot 9000 waits in the antechamber, its main optic sensor trained on Stone in what almost seems like concern as he staggers into the room.

Of course it’s not real concern; however advanced the Doctor’s creations might be, they’re just robots. Machines. Bad time to be anthropomorphizing you, little fella. Daddy says it’s time to go home.

Stone peels off gown, goggles, gloves; his hands are pale, fingers trembling. Hands— pale? As in, pale enough to see blue veins traced between the tendons? Oh, that’s not right. That’s not right at all. Wait a second. Was he even wearing any of this equipment before? No, he hadn’t needed to; he was in the control room until— Oh shit.

Stone? What’s taking so long? Don’t tell me you got lost. Ivo approaches from the clean room, still unsteady. Stone’s voice emerges from Ivo’s mouth; wide-eyed, faced with the growing realization that there’s something wrong beyond simple electrocution, Ivo reaches up with a trembling hand to touch his lips. He finds only skin and a short beard instead of his beautiful mustache. Stone? What’s wrong with me? But now he’s close enough to see into the antechamber despite the dim light. He stops, frozen, hand still on his face. Agent Stone? I, ah. I think I’d like to go home now.

[stevebattle]

Gronk by Keith Paul and John Hughes, Ontario, Canada (1978). "Robbie the robot, who weighed some 50 pounds and stood over 5 feet tall, caused the uneasy feeling that if it dropped a wheel off the edge of a walkway, it would topple over, crushing a small dog, child or Volkswagen. This led to the development of Gronk, the second robot, smaller and less threatening. … Physically short and squatty, about 40" high and 22" in diameter, is more robotish in the popular sense. … Practically speaking it resembles a large domed can of spray deodorant. Actually the outer skin is a 40 gallon (Imperial) hot water tank cover chopped down to 26". The machine is cylindrical, and weighs 50-60 pounds. The metal skin is covered with a felt material, which gives it a warmer appearance plus color. This skin is removable for gaining access to the drive motors and electronic controls. … At present Gronk has the following features: 1) Moves forward, reverse, left, right, counter clock-wise and clockwise about its vertical axis. 2) Flashing collar lights (marquee style). 3) Modulated voice light (color organ principle). 4) Smoking ears." – Robbie and Gronk, by Keith Paul, Interface Age, April 1978.

[kdogreads]

Y/n is close with Abby like the mom figure to Gibbs being her dad figure. Gibbs and y/n have only ever had words in passing They are always friendly with a flirt now and then. One day Gibbs uses Abby's cot to get some rest he wakes up to y/n and Abby talking about blind dates.

"Y/n I'm gonna find you a companion in life. Just do one more date"

*y/n sighs* "I'm just not the type of person people are looking for and that's ok"

*as she leaves the lab* "Abs some people are ment to be alone"

Gibbs comes out telling Abby that he will be taking y/n on the next date.

This is such a sweet idea!! I’m sticking it with this request bc I feel like they just fit together so perfectly. I hope that’s okay by both of you 🥹 thank you so much for the love!

Jethro Gibbs x f!reader

TW: alcohol, a smidge of angst (reader thinks she’ll be forever alone), mostly just a heap of fluff

A/N: I’ve never been able to use any of my nerdy lab knowledge in a fic before so sorry if I went a little overboard lmao (I’m a pre-analytical training coordinator and spend my days teaching people to be labbies basically). Thank you so so so much for reading! ❤️

Just before you left for the day, you decided to head down to the lab check in on Abby. It was quality control week, meaning she had to got to run test patients on all of her instruments, confirm the results are what they should be, order biological indicator tests to make sure no foreign bacteria snuck its way in where it shouldn’t have, then do it all over again a dozen or so times to make sure the results match up.

Not that Abby is anything less than capable of completing the quarterly checks, it just gets very tedious, and Abby is not a fan of busy work.

“Hey Abs,” You greeted her sweetly.

“There is no Abby, only QC’s,” She quipped back in her best robot voice.

You only chuckled in response and grabbed a pair of gloves without another word. You started resulting the tests in her queue, a feeble attempt to help the boring task move along faster.

The two of you worked quietly on opposite sides of the lab for another half hour until you moved the last tube into the “finished” tray.

“Wanna grab some dinner?” You questioned, removing your gloves and heading over to the sink to wash your hands.

“No, thanks; already ate,” Abby responded without looking up from her work, “Hey! How did that date go last night? I can’t believe I forgot until now! Tell me everything.”

Abby turned towards you excitedly, her eyes bright and body fidgeting in anticipation. You swear she was more invested in your love life than you were sometimes.

You started to shake your head “no” and Abby let out a loud groan.

“Ugh! I had such a good feeling about this one,” She spoke in disappointment.

“You said that the last time, too, Abs,” You leaned against the counter and crossed your arms lazily, “He asked me to meet his mom. On the first date!”

Abby visibly cringed and put a hand lovingly on your bicep.

“I’m gonna find you a companion, I swear it!”

You let out a sound that’s half laugh, half sigh before you speak, “It’s okay, really. I’m just not the type of person anyone is looking for, and I can’t find the person I’m looking for. It’s just the way it is, Abby.”

She sent you a sympathetic look, squeezing your arm in reassurance. Abby pulled you into a tight hug, like she was trying to will a new love life into you with her bare hands.

You sent her a loving smile when she finally pulled away from you.

“Well, I’m gonna head out. You sure I can’t drag you away for something to eat?”

“No, no. I have too much to get done,” She motions to the empty tubes behind her, “Don’t lose hope, Boss Lady. Your perfect man is out there.”

You headed towards the door before turning around to tell her goodbye, “Some people are just meant to be alone. It’ll be me and the dogs forever,” You smiled slightly, “Goodnight, Abs.”

You made it almost out the door of the NCIS building before you realized you left your purse in the lab. With a huff, you begrudgingly dragged yourself back into the elevator, down to the lab, and right up to the doorway. The surprise of two distinct voices coming from within stopped you in your tracks.

“Gibbs! You can’t sneak up on me like that! I didn’t know you were using the cot.”

“Sorry, Abs. You often set her up on blind dates?”

“Yes! I am determined to find my wonderful boss’ soulmate somewhere in the greater DC area.”

Jethro chuckles.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it before now! She’s just your type, Gibbs, and she’s so fun and cryptic just like you and—“

“Abby,” He paused, “Way ahead of you.”

You decided now was your chance. Knocking gently on the doorframe, both of them turned their heads to see who was there.

“Hey Abby; Jethro,” You smiled, trying not to act like you just heard their whole conversation about you, “I just, uh, left my purse.”

Abby looked around and spotted your bag, handing it to you with a cheeky grin on her face. You all stood there in semi-uncomfortable silence for a beat before Gibbs spoke.

“Have any plans tomorrow night, Red?”

You straightened up a bit at his question and the playful nickname. You are just his type.

“Um, no. I don’t. Not yet, anyway.” You tried to keep an even tone, but the nerves and excitement were practically seeping out of your pours.

“My place, 7 o’clock,” Gibbs said in his nonchalant tone, “Casual. Hope you like bourbon.”

He winked at you and walked out of the lab before you could even exhale the breathe you hadn’t known you were holding. You looked at Abby, your eyes wider than ever before.

“Eee! I’m so excited!” Abby squeals and flings her arms around you.

You couldn’t even put any thoughts together. Your heart pounded out of your chest and your hands must’ve been shaking, the adrenaline of the situation just starting to wear off.

“Come on,” Abby said while sliding her jacket off the back of her chair, “I’ll finish up tomorrow. We have to plan your date. With Gibbs!”

You let out a laugh and wrapped an arm over Abby’s shoulders, heading out to grab something to eat.

You nervously sifted through your tops, trying to find something that felt “casual,” as Jethro had requested, but still nice enough for a date.

Oh screw it.

You grabbed a plain olive green hoodie, the big white letters reading NCIS. You figured if he asked for casual, he would get casual.

The drive to Gibbs’ house went quickly. You’d been there once before, when Abby insisted Gibbs needed company one New Year’s Eve. You didn’t end up staying very long, but he left an impression on you. After the visit, Gibbs started stopping to say “hello” in the hallways at work, or bringing a coffee up your office every now and then.

One detail you remembered from your brief visit is the front door was never locked, so you didn’t bother to stop and knock.

Walking through the doorway, your eyes immediately gravitated to the only light on in the house — the one leading down the stairs to the basement. You took this as your sign to invite yourself downstairs.

The stairs creaked slightly as you made your way down, the sounds of sandpaper meeting wood filled your ears.

“You found the place,” Jethro’s strong voice greeted you as you stepped into his workspace.

“How could I forget?” You teased back.

Jethro let out a honey-soaked chuckle and offered you a stool to sit on. He poured you two fingers out of his half-empty bottle of bourbon, then did the same for himself. He tipped his glass to you and you tapped yours against it with a slight clink.

You shut your eyes as the amber liquid burned down your throat. Instinctively, you leaned back against the counter and let out an exhale.

“Long day?” Jethro joked, but you could see the genuine care when you opened your eyes to meet his gaze.

“Long week,” You responded before taking another sip, “Abby’s up to her eyeballs in evidence to examine, plus all this QC crap takes so much time. I just feel bad I can’t help her more. I didn’t realize taking the lead forensics position would take me out of the lab so much.”

Jethro nodded in understanding, one corner of his mouth tilting up slightly as he poured more into your already empty cup.

“Abby’s the best of the best,” He said with confidence, placing a hand reassuringly on your knee, “She’ll get it done.”

You smiled and nodded back at him, placing your hand over his as a silent thank you.

You were surprised when Jethro broke the comfortable silence first.

“You know she thinks the world of you, Red,” He said with a look in his eye, one that almost looked like pride if you had to guess.

You felt your cheeks get hot and you looked down at your shoes, unsure if the liquor or his sweet comment made you blush.

You took another sip before lifting your head back up and responding.

“Same goes for you, Jethro,” You reached out to grab the hand that rested on your knee just moments before, “I think if she had time to write a book about how much she adores you, she would.”

He laughed, a full laugh, glazed in honey and bourbon and it warmed you to your core. You thought that sound could end wars, cause the devil himself to crack a smile. You would have melted right there if he didn’t jolt you out of your trance a moment later.

He took the glass from your hand and whispered a quick, “c’mere.”

He took your hand and led you over to the boat he was building. He showed you a few small hand tools and gave you a quick explanation of their use.

Before long, his hands were resting over yours, your back pressed gently against his chest as he showed you the different sanding techniques he used. Though every inch of his body was pressed against yours, you’d never felt so free, so held and yet, so comfortable.

It was a quiet few minutes before he spoke, his lips inches from your ear.

“You ever done this before?” His breath tickled your neck and sent a shiver down your spine.

“Never,” You breathed, trying your hardest not to just melt into his strong arms.

“You’re a natural then.”

He slowly peeled his hands back from yours, allowing you to keep sanding on your own for a moment. You felt his strong hands slide down your arms, your sides, before settling on your hips.

Your eyelids fluttered, suddenly aware of the effect he had on you. Your movements halted and Jethro raised a hand cautiously to your chin, turning your head to face him.

“This okay?” He questioned gently, a worried look settled into his furrowed brows.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, turning your whole body to face his, your arms sliding over his broad shoulders to rest at the back of his neck.

“Only if you intend to kiss me, Jethro,” His name danced from your lips in a whisper.

A soft smile spread across his face, the worry melting away in an instant.

“Yes, ma’am, I do.”

Before you could comprehend, the hand that was still on your chin drifted to hold you just below your ear, and his lips melted into yours in a sweet, slow kiss.

He tasted of bourbon and something you were sure was just distinctly him.

You leaned further into him as your lips met over and over again. His presence wasn’t demanding, but invasive. You felt Jethro in every inch of your body; his taste, his smell, the way his fingers gripped into your hip like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

The seconds felt like hours before you separated your lips, both of you desperate for oxygen. Your chest heaved slightly as he drew small circles onto your lower back absentmindedly; his forehead leaning down to rest on yours.

“Do you bring all the girls down here and make out like teenagers?” You teased, still slightly out of breathe.

He threw his head back in another honey-glazed laugh. It invaded your sense just as his kiss had.

God, you though, I could listen to that forever.

“No,” He huffed, a wide smile still spread across his face, “Only the special ones.”

“Ohh,” You exaggerated, “So I’m special, then?”

He only growled an Mmmhhmm before his lips pressed into yours once more, this time slightly quicker than the time before.

“Hungry?” He asked simply, prying his lips from yours, a slight groan falling from your lips as he pulled away.

“Starving,” You replied without missing a beat.

He raised an eyebrow and leaned slightly further away from you, letting him see your full expression.

“For food, sweetheart,” He jested, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“I know!” You squeaked, swatting his shoulder playfully in protest.

He chuckled that charming laugh and nodded his head towards the stairs.

“Well, come on then,” He spoke after pressing a quick peck to your lips.

You followed Jethro upstairs where you enjoyed a delicious homemade dinner and spend the rest of the evening basking in each other’s company.

You sighed as you reached the top of the stairs, just outside your office. Since you rarely locked the door, you turned the handle and swung it open. You were surprised to see the light already switched on. A pit formed in your stomach as your eyes scanned the room before—

“Jesus, Abby!” You found her sitting at your desk chair, literally shaking in anticipation, “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” She quickly approached you, taking your bag out of your hand and setting it down in the desk, “Sooo? I’m dying to know! Tell me everything!”

“Ab,” You smiled at her an tilted your head slightly in a playful manner, “A girl should never kiss and tell.”

Abby squealed in excitement and pulled you into a hug, clearly understanding that it went well enough for you to kiss him.

“Please tell me you’re seeing him again. Please, please, please,” She practically begged with her hand folded in front of her.

“Tomorrow, after work,” You smiled as she squealed and pulled you into another excited hug.

“This is the best day ever!” She declared and sat in the comfy chair across from your desk, determined to get all the details from your life-changing first date with Jethro Gibbs.

[that-house]

can you tell us more about dronestrike & the campaign theyre from?

just read thhe post about it & immediately became obsessed

(context: Dronestrike is my warrior cats OC, an american imperialist robot cat the size of a horse and equipped with enough firepower to wipe out the clans if it seems like they're at risk of falling to communism. in the oneshot he accidentally fired a nuke at the city of LA and blamed "every other country" in a phone call with Bidenstar to avoid getting in trouble)

it wasn't a campaign, just an 11-person oneshot in the single most chaotic discord voice call I have ever been in. so i haven't played him since then, nor will i ever play him again

i can provide you a variety of facts about him i came up with after the fact though because he's a funny enough character that i can't stop thinking about him:

his brain is composed of three parts with an equal amount of control over his actions: the soul of a vietnam veteran, an AI replica of a cat, and every single super bowl halftime commercial

he comes armed with combat knives for claws, a machine gun in his mouth, a high caliber sniper rifle built into his spine, a pistol that he somehow uses with cat paws, and a douglas air-2 genie air-to-air unguided nuclear missile

transition could not save him because all trans people are godless communists who bully him on twitter

Dronestrike acknowledges every independence movement if only so that America has more countries to eventually colonize

he has read Marx so he can misuse quotes and flex on any marxists who haven't read theory

his greatest wish is for america to have won 'nam

doesn’t really have any physical possessions because he’s a cat who doesn’t have pockets or a permanent residence. he does however have $8.6 million in Shell oil stock

Dronestrike if he played League of Legends: only plays champs who have america-themed skins, but doesn’t actually own the skins because that would be giving money to a chinese company. plays all of them jungle to poor results. iron 4 two thousand games this season

has no mouth but wishes he did so he could taste the burgers that honest Americans have died to defend

Dronestrike's dream world is world war 3, with the stipulation that there is an american flag superimposed over EVERYONE'S vision instead of just his

if he had 24 hours to live he would start a “second american revolution” by attacking England

he isn't a good kisser: no lips, he's a cat, and also george washington famously said that romantic connections weaken your spiritual link with The State

response to being trapped in a maze of mirrors: breaks through the mirrors without noticing, but also can’t recognize his reflection. Thinks he has to fight these teleporting commie clones of himself to save the United States of America

he's on Santa's naughty list

on Halloween he dresses up as George Washington and “trick or disappears” journalists

Dronestrike hates the reds, the brits, women, and most importantly, himself

prefers fundamentals over schmovement

favorite board game is Monopoly because watching people go bankrupt or be imprisoned is one of his hobbies

his happiest memory is his first glimpse of an amazon packaging facility and the horrible conditions of the workers

favorite season is summer: 4th of July babey!!! the holiday where you're allowed to blow shit upppp!!! he also frequently sets off fireworks in the off season to scare dogs and people with anxiety

doesn’t date but he sends tech billionaires unethically farmed flowers sometimes

doesn’t play video games but he has a simulated CoD lobby’s chat going at all times in his head. they call him slurs whenever he misses a shot

relates strongly to Patrick Bateman

he was in ShadowClan. they picked which clan he would be deployed into by having him take the official "which clan are you" quiz

sometimes he doubts that he has the heart of a true warrior

[nebula1734]

I’ve been freaking out about this for almost a week now, WE’RE GETTING THE ADEPTUS ARBITES IN DARKTIDE!

This was announced last Thursday (May 22nd, 2025 CE) during the Warhammer Skulls event. The DLC is coming out June 23rd, and I cannot wait. We have very little information on it, but I will talk about what we do know:

This is an entirely new class. Unlike the Enforcers cosmetics, this will be an entirely new class with a new talent tree, abilities, and weapons.

You will get to control a cyber-mastiff. Unclear what this means or how it will work, but… robot dog.

You will be able to launch a speaker to demoralize and weaken enemies. No clue if this will act like a stun grenade, the zealot’s relic, or a general debuff.

The Arbites will be the first class to have a defensive ranged weapon! They are supposed to have assault shields, but based on the description, you will be able to choose between a maul and a shot-pistol.

It sounds like the Arbites will primarily bring using their shotguns for their ranged weapon slot, but they will be able to choose from various types of special ammo depending on play style and preference.

For character customization, we will be getting 6 new voices (3 personalities, each personality will have a voice option based on body type you choose), as well as cosmetics for your character, your weapons, and your cyber mastiff

I am super hyped for all this stuff will be probably be posting some of the Arbites themed/related projects I work on in anticipation for the release.

I have well over 400 hours in Darktide, and while I enjoy the familiar parts of it, it’s going to be nice to get some new and interesting combat mixed in with the old stuff I have run 15 million times.

[sunnydayaoe]

{This isn't Normal}

[CCCC FIC] Contains: Platonic Soul and Mind [~6,000 words]

CW // attempt at romance [no actual romance], uncomfortable kissing [they figure out they don't like kissing and talk it out]

As if sensing the fact it was thinking of him, Mind tightened his arms in his sleep. Usually the robot tried not to be so grabby, but in its sleep it seemed to have no such reservations. It was almost cute, like every daydream Harmonia had ever had about a partner. Soft and domestic, downright cozy. {The idea of Mind in that dream made him want to puke.} - Or, Soul VS. Amatonormativity; considerations on what friends should act like

Fic under cut! or on AO3

{This wasn’t Normal}

The sun was freezing cold, leeching any warmth he had like the parasite he’d always claimed they were. Somehow, he couldn’t summon any of the vitriol that would have accompanied that thought mere weeks ago. His Mind, comfortable and healthy and There in his arms. It almost felt like blasphemy to feel the moment could be perfect, if he let it.

As if sensing the fact it was thinking of him, Mind tightened his arms in his sleep. Their legs were already tangled, its hooked around his, and its arms were twined around his waist, but it still tried to worm its way closer. 

Usually the robot tried not to be so grabby, but in its sleep it seemed to have no such reservations. It was almost cute, like every daydream Harmonia had ever had about a partner. Soft and domestic, downright cozy.

{The idea of Mind in that dream made him want to puke.}

So why wasn't it perfect? What about this set off so many red flags in his mind? Was it the way it drooled a little, fast asleep as it was and mouth parted in a little smile, utterly relaxed? The way it had decided that, regardless of all that he had done, this was what he deserved?

Or was it the fact that Soul had just noticed how close it was. Did friends sleep so close together, snuggled together in bed?

He shook his head, that was - this was - irrelevant. He just needed to get to sleep. Just had to accept this was supposed to be ideal. He just... had to ignore the nagging voice at the back of his mind. There was nothing to worry about- It's just- {his skin was starting to crawl-}

Mind rolled onto the mattress with a muffled thump, still sound asleep, now on its side. The half marked by their cacophony. Exposed teeth stretched into a rictus grin, a smile carved free from its face, even unconscious. Cute, the way an ugly dog was. It hadn’t noticed Soul sitting up {flinching back}.

{Soul hadn’t noticed a lot of things either. Like a boiling frog, he’d been oblivious to the slow shift in their relationship. When had he started letting it sleep in his bed? Getting so close to him?}

He... why was he freaking out. This wasn't new. {And wasn't that the problem? Why did he let it go so far?} He needed to get over it; what would Mind think, if it woke up tomorrow and Soul... was acting like this. Surely it would be worried. Stress during Concord; he didn't want to be the cause of that.

He needed to get back to... what had become the status quo. He reached out a clawed hand, thumb against its pulse point, testing. Cold, even still, but relaxed; wholly within his control. Safe.

It remained un-tense at his prodding, a lamb before a butcher. Nothing was wrong here, he reminded himself. {He should be gentle, but} His hand tightens, unconscious as the creature beside him. Its throat felt so malleable, under its hands. Delicate, like if he squeezed-

The whir of a fan stopped him. A furrow had found its way onto Mind's brow. Lips and teeth parted slightly as if to breathe more easily, a near silent pant, wheezy, starting up. 

Taking in a breath, deeply, slowly {an attempt to get away from that blistering confusion}, he shifted his hand from throat to shoulder. A safer place. It brought his attention back to the present moment. 

His Mind leaned in, like he hadn't just been choking it. {And hadn't that been their whole relationship? Him, hurting it, and it crawling back, forgiving him for things it had no right to.} He couldn't bring himself to let go. {He shouldn't be enjoying this, the gentle give of its skin, the cool emanating from it even through its shirt.}

It had always burned, like dry ice. Why not tonight? {Not quite a lie, but not the full truth either; he hadn't felt the skin crawling sensation anytime they'd done... this.} Would it even stop him, if it did? Mind, a purposefully apathetic grin on his face, image ruined by a blue blush dusting its cheeks. No new bruises, skin clean of cuts. Awkwardly, stiltedly, asking for some time together. Would he say no to that, even if it burned? {He knew he would. Selfishly.}

He lied back down, on his side, facing his Mind. Closer to it now. He was reaching out before he'd even considered what he should be doing. Cupping the back of its head with its one free hand, {tangled into its hair, thumb gently --because he needed to remember to be gentle-- pressed to the side of its neck, feeling the cold, sluggish pulse}, he tipped its head back. An almost instinctual action he had from checking bandages, even months after it had fully healed.

Ugly scars marred its throat; stretching from its cheek to its collarbone, blue lined circuits exposed with the scars. It didn't even stir at this, seeming to have, even unconscious, grown used to the motion just as much as Soul had. A level of trust that just couldn't be deserved, earned. 

They... shouldn't be doing this, should they.

He shook his head; He couldn't be having these thoughts at 12 AM. He should at least wait until morning before bringing up any of these topics. Waking up Mind now would only only make it grumpy and difficult about it; he should push these issues aside for the future. [He knew he'd probably never bring it up, push it off until it loomed on the horizon like an approaching storm.]

All his shifting had untangled their legs, had dislodged Mind from its comfortable place pressed against his side, his own panic ruining their little slice of harmony. It would definitely notice, if it woke up like this, that Soul had not slept soundly. More and more undue stress inflicted upon it, like he had not done that enough during cacophony. 

If it woke up in the same... general closeness it had fallen asleep in, it would probably be fine. The best option, if he wanted not to worry it. {and not, of course, because he wanted to be closer, to have it back in his arms.} He would not be spiraling tonight. It was just a bit of cuddling, just returning to their flawed status quo. Nothing wrong with that. {May Harmonia forgive him.}

He let his eyes drift to its throat, still bared, still trusting. It would be... fine with this, he supposed. Just settling it back into where it had been when it fell asleep. He was sure it wouldn't protest this. {He wondered who it'd blame if he went too far. He knew it wouldn't blame him.}

He inched the smallest bit closer, gently tugging it in turn. His arm sled down its back, feeling the sharp, metal ridges of its spine, the slight rubbery give around it. An action that all the world looked like someone soothing a partner. {He knew he was the only one getting soothed by the action.}

Gentle, cautious, one hand tugged its face to his neck, tucking it flush against him, while the other inched across its back. Something so cold shouldn't be so enjoyable to cuddle, yet Mind felt almost perfect in his arms. He hooked his leg around its, tangling them back together under the covers, the gentle creaking of metallic joints humming at all the movement.

It snuggled closer against his neck, movement in its sleep, exposed teeth pressed against him; gross, but he didn't mind as much as he thinks he should have. Another tally in the mess he had become with Mind. He tightened his arms, he doesn't want to think about it.

Cold and heavy, like a weighted blanket, perfect for a night like this. He thinks that was why he let it sleep in his bed with it, or... what he'd told himself he was letting it do this for. Sitting under the covers with it snugly held in his arms was downright pleasant. He reminded himself he was doing this to reinstate the status quo.

He could hear its breathing, so close to his ear. No dreams, good or bad, seemed to plague his Mind, breathing smooth and uninterrupted; sometimes {and how long did he have to spend sleeping beside this to note?} when it dreamt, it seemed to forget all the damage that had been inflicted onto it. Every breath pulled in a bit stilted, like it couldn't remember how to around the unfamiliar damage. He supposes maybe in its dreams it was unbroken. 

He could feel himself relaxing further into it, relaxing in the haziness night brought. Maybe... this could be okay. For the purpose of not stressing Mind out, of course. 

Feeling along its back, he felt the mechanical engineering it had reduced itself to. Even through the shirt, the robot had a unique feeling... Digging the slightest bit between each ridge of its back, he felt it shudder in his arms. Curling towards him and arching its back in equal measure. Under the covers its tail was wagging, the slightest bit. Its breathing had gotten a bit snuffly too... was it having a good dream now? 

Cute, he thought. He tucked his face right over its shoulder, as if it could see his reddening expression if he hadn't, even fully asleep.

He must have paused, because it squirmed in his arms a little. Soft noises, softer motions, how could he deny it a little more affection? Just to placate it, of course. 

He let his claws skin over its back, dipping along the soft ridges of its spin and the relaxed muscles of its back. His other arm curled around its waist, hand splayed across its lower back and rubbing small soothing circles. 

It stopped its movements, falling limp once more {he ignored how similar that drop felt to when it passed out from the pain, months before}. 

Confidence renewed, and perhaps a bit chastised by its reaction to his stopping, he let himself get a bit more intense with his actions. He dipped his claws into a groove of softer skin along its spine, just below its shoulder blades, feeling the way it let out a little noise at the action; the reaction should have stopped him, even thought it wasn't a negative one. 

He continued anyway. His second mistake. {his first was letting it get this close in the first place}

Humming a satisfied note, he held it close, cool against his warm body. Maybe he could get to sleep like this, ignore the wrongness. Of course, that was when it had to wake up.

"Enjoying yourself?" Groggy, but still teasing. It could tell what he was doing, hugging, cuddling it like a doll. He froze, hearing its voice, but only for a moment. He didn't get this far by showing fear, weakness. He spread his hand out, cradling it, before pulling it closer, chest flush against his own. It could fight back now.

"Quite a lot," he hummed, ear twitching in distance when he heard the way his voice cracked; he didn't know why. He wasn't lying, after all. He was enjoying himself, half asleep and enjoying the comfort of his third against him. Now though, he was brought back to reality; it didn't seem angry at him now, but he knew it would be. How couldn't it? 

He could tell by the slight narrowing of its eye, even half-mask with drowsiness, it had heard his voice shake too. Idly, {to avoid thinking of other things} he wondered what it must assume that meant. Lying? Exited? Too many things for his precious Mind to ascribe meaning when there wasn't. His body was just being... uncooperative.

He didn't allow it the satisfaction of a glib remark; blunt claws traced along the soft spots by its spine, letting them dip further into the soft plastic between metal he knew could get him a reaction. Mean, he knew. 

The choked off whine that turned straight into a growl was his reward, amusing as it was nauseating. At least one of them was enjoying this. Its hands reached out to weakly paw at him before sliding up to his shoulders, blunt nails digging in. It didn't seem to know what to do with all the affection, especially since Soul usually didn't get so handsy. {A sure sign he probably shouldn't be doing this.}

"What are you doing?" it huffed, pulling away from his neck and revealing its face, stained a dark indigo. "You're acting.... odd."

Clearly it didn't like how... affecting this was; Soul would have to note where exactly he'd sunk his claws, for future reference. Of course, there would be no "future" to reference this in. He was already stepping over lines, to continue doing so in the future... a recipe for disaster. "Nothing, my Mind. Can't I be in a cuddly mood? Just for tonight."

"Bullshit."

"I assure you, it's not," he grinned, eyes crinkling and mouth tilted just right to match Harmonia's smile on the left. Perfect, angelic: it must have clashed terribly with how he let his claws dig in, "Plus, you seem to be enjoying it."   It shuddered a bit at his actions as it let out another whiny growl. It sounded distinctly like a dog, the way the sound rolled into a deep low rumble by its modulator. It recovered much quicker, this time.

"Fuck off," Mind didn't believe him, pushing off him the moment it could and sitting up till' it loomed above him. It seemed like it wanted to take up all his vision. He guessed it wanted to feel in control. "You're not acting yourself."

He averted his eyes. {Was this what Heart felt like, accused under that sharp, whited out gaze?}

The glass of water on the nightstand was looking rather interesting, half-empty; he thinks Mind drank it. Lights were off too, dark except what the moon, his moon, illuminated through the window. {He didn't want to look back.}

It seemed he wasn't going to be allowed to look away though, his Mind not allowing it. His face was grabbed and his eyes dragged back to Mind. It was breathing through clenched teeth, {He'd fucked up, hadn't he.} Even still, it was hard not to immediately relax into its hands; would that calm it down or stress it out further? Clearly it was disquieted with his strange attitude tonight, and finding its touch anything more than Tolerable would certainly set off some red flags.

At this point though... he doesn't think he can stress it out further. Surly it won't notice. He relaxed into its hands. Sighing and leaning its cheek into the touch. Its fingers curled, tensed; he ignored that.

"Do we have to talk about it?" Quieter than he meant to say it. He closed his eyes, knowing Mind wouldn't let him look away. Still, he could perfectly picture it's expression. Eyes narrowed, mouth pursed, shoulders tense like it was ready for a fight; it always looked so much less relaxed in an emotional confrontation over a physical one.

Blissful silence, for just a moment. "You know I can't just leave it, if there's something wrong with you, we should... endeavor to fix it."

"And if I don't want to think about it?"

"Well... that is my job, I could handle it."

That startled a laugh out of him. The startled satisfaction on its face certainly let it know it was on purpose. He knew the other wouldn't be dropping this anytime soon. Not when he'd acted so... erratically; he had to talk about it. "You know what we have isn't normal."

"What do you mean?"

Soul reached up to drag Mind down with him, face pressed to its sternum. He didn't want to look at it for this, didn't even want it seeing his expression. "What we're doing. What we've Been doing. This.”

It was silent at that, probably unable to think up a rebuttal. Conceding when someone else was right...? Strange of his Mind. Maybe it was going through the same realization Soul had gone through, that this wasn't okay. He tightened his grip, not wanting it to leave even though they both knew they shouldn't be doing this anymore. Selfish, but what had he not been.

He could feel it swallow, eerily human,  "Why would you think that?"

"You're the smart one, can't figure it out? What, think this is normal? That "friends" cuddle every other night? sleep in the same bed? dress up and play dog?"

"Soul." It tried to pull his face away from its chest. He refused; he didn't want eye contact again. Couldn't look it in the eyes. He heard it sigh overhead. Resignation, probably: tired of dealing with his shit, definitely. He shouldn't have snapped, if there was any chance of this getting shoved under the rug, it was gone now.

"I shouldn't want this." Curled, tucked against its chest, cuddling it like a stuffed animal, it was obvious what "this" he was talking about.

"And if I want this too?"

He laughed against its chest. A new route his Mind had never taken; genuine manipulation. Normally it at least believed the lies it was saying. "You just want to make me feel better."

It let its head dip down and rest on the crown of his skull, cheeks pressed to his horns. It huffed, though didn't fight him on the point, "I do."

His face burned. Mind was probably tired, he'd just woken it up, after all. Probably from a good dream, definitely something that would leave everything tinted a bit pink. It wouldn't be saying this if it was thinking straight. Emotionally repressed, faking apathy, distanced from the two of them; its Mind could not be the one more emotionally present of the two of them right now.

"Friends can't do this." He repeated, refusing to follow up.

It was impossible to see its face from where he was, but he could almost Feel the eye roll it was doing. None of them could be anything but difficult. He wished it could just accept his words, just once.

"Okay than, how about... we not be friends for this."

"Like... partners?"

"..." It was silent for a moment, and just as he was considering the possibility that he'd fucked up, that he'd over stepped and suggested something strange- "Yeah... like partners."

That... could work. It would fix all the problems he'd found; friends couldn't cuddle every night, couldn't sleep in the same bed, couldn't ... couldn't do all the things he'd done with Mind. {And hadn't he compared this to daydreams his Harmonia would have had? It was perfect.} But this would Fix it all! {His skin was starting to crawl.}

He laughed, relieved. "Yeah? You'd do that for me?"

It froze a little, arms tightening around him, it seems like it didn't know how to react to that. 

"...For you, my Soul."

He finally leaned back, allowing it eye contact. Its expression softens at his smile, though its brown remained the smallest bit furrowed.

"That's great! that's... that's great." He laughed again, giggly with the deflating tension. His hands wound right back around to its back, hugging it. It relaxes further, untensing in his hold; perfect, he decided. Really this makes it all finally, *finally*, make sense.

He grinned, he couldn't Stop grinning. Too much energy, he could tell by the way it slowly blinked down at him. The adrenaline drop definitely affecting it.

"So- ah, does this... ah... we're... together?" He didn't want to jump the gun too much, {and maybe a little voice at the back of his head really wanted it to say no.} even though that is what Mind had implied with its decision. Best let his Mind decide, this was its idea after all.

His Mind, his, of course. It would explain its... everything, if he looked at it through that lens. It had always been a bit, well, Odd about him, odd in the way he was odd about it. {It had to. It had to explain it all. Otherwise, he'd have to confront he wanted things he really shouldn't.}

It smiled, awkward. He guessed it had filled it's quota for emotional intelligence for the day, the night. Whatever. It was cute {and he could finally think that without guilt!}. Mind hummed, drooping into the bed, his arms, satisfied with its problem "solved." Soul really had been stressing it out... but that was okay, it was all fixed now. He could make it up to it.

"Sure... sounds good,"

"Now what? Now that we're... more than friends." The phrase left an odd taste in his mouth, but maybe that was because it was new. He'd get used to it.

"Do we have to do anything?" It asked, clearly ready to go right back to sleep. After a searching look, it relented. {Did he really look that bad...?} "Fine. I think... people usually kiss, when they're... Like that."

The words came out awkward, and he giggled at it. It phrased it like it was talking about a particularly odd thing it had seen online, not it's actual life. "Like that?" He repeated, teasing.

It groaned, annoyed, "Like *this.* Whatever. Do you want to?"

"... Maybe."

"That's not really an answer."

"No. Yes. Maybe" he waffled, like he always did. They should make indecision his middle name.

He really didn't know. It was... well it felt like what he was supposed to be doing; they'd already settled that this would fix their little "Normal" vs "Abnormal" equation. So if he wanted to keep everything else, he probably should get used to everything else that came with it.

Mind narrowed it's eye, clearly already over their little late-night emotional breakthrough. That was its thinking face, and he wondered what solution it was going to drop all its eggs into. "How about I do it?"

"The kissing? I think it's a two person activity."

An eye-roll, more a tip of the head than anything else- his Mind didn't really have pupils to roll, after all. Still, it got the idea across.

"Not on the lips, obviously." It gestured vaguely to the rest of its face, "I'll just... try it out elsewhere; perhaps some applicable data could help you decide."

"That is the nerdiest way I've ever heard someone ask for a kiss."

It turned away, embarrassment painting its face a faint blue and highlighting its freckles, "yes or no."

"Fine, yes, give me some new "data," my Mind."

The robot didn't seem to know what to do now that it was given the go-ahead. Did it think he'd say no? {Should he have said no?}

Hands settled back on his shoulders, and it leaned in closer, closer. It paused right before his face, and he couldn't help the amused snort he let out; his Mind always spoke a big game, but had awful follow through.

It growled at him, muttering something he could only hear because of how close it was, "I'm trying to be considerate."

"More like hesitant. I've already said yes."

It huffed, but finally made contact, pressed gently to his cheek.

He doesn't know what he expected. Fireworks? A rush of energy? An orchestral swell of music, perhaps?

All he got was teeth and skin. Getting kissed by someone with half a face, of course, meant teeth. Sharp and cold, like silverware, and slightly damp. Definitely a bit gross. Not unbearably so, though.

Its lips were similarly chilled, but soft against his cheek. Not the ice cube of its teeth, but comfortably cold. Really not as unexpected as he felt it was.

Mind pulled back near instantly, brow furrowed but unspeaking, worried for his reaction, probably.

He hummed, considering, "Not bad... could you try without shoving your teeth into my skin?"

"Not my fault."

"Well, the way you use those things definitely IS."

It narrowed its eye at the jabs, but leaned back in for another gentle kiss, slightly to the right of the first. Less teeth, how kind of it.

It really wasn't all that bad. He liked how gentle it felt, considerate of him in a way he'd started to enjoy in the last couple months. Sweet, if he had to describe it.

He let his eyes fall shut, humming at the sensation. It was nice; not the way he'd expected this to feel, but certainly not Bad. He wondered when it would start to feel the way others described it, though.

Seeming to take his relaxation as approval, it continued. Gently peppering his cheeks in little half kisses, it seemed like it was trying to make up for the fractured lips with twice as many pecks.

{He wondered if his face would end up covered in blue lipstick by the time they went to sleep. He guesses there wasn't anyone to see it.}

It drifted slightly closer to his lips, pressing one final kiss to the very edge of his mouth before pulling back.

"So... that enough data?" It coughed, clearly struggling not to look away. Its face was a bit blue, and he knew his was definitely tinted red, but his Mind seemed determined to look at this as "logically," as it could-a habit it had started to break in concord, but he guesses everyone had their ways of dealing with new situations.

He rubbed his cheek, it felt burning, warm from all the cold kisses. "Yeah..."

"Yeah?"

"Impatient, much?" He teased, trying not to let it show how much he... didn't know if he wanted to go further than that. The kisses were nice, very nice, even, but the idea of going further than innocent pecks...

"I want to go to sleep." it said, "We can stop here, if you want. Figure this shit out tomorrow."

"No, no," sitting around doing nothing, waiting for his problems to be solved rarely got him anywhere, and trust him, he'd Tried. "We can kiss now, if you want."

It hummed, like it hadn't actually considered Soul agreeing and didn't know what to do now that he did. "Yeah... lets."

There was an awkward moment, where both of them waited for the other to make the first move. Mind had done it first, but shouldn't that mean Soul should have his turn as well? or does that mean it should just continue what it had started. 

Seeming to care more about the prospect of getting to sleep after the deed was done than it was with the slight tension that had entered the air, Mind went for the kill.

It was, in a word, awful.

Mind went in a little fast, and Soul couldn't say he wasn't to blame either, leaning in when he saw it moving forward. Teeth against skin, lips mushed together in an uncoordinated mess. He thought concord was supposed to make them on the same wavelength, but clearly that was a critical misunderstanding of their newfound harmony. It was bad in a way independent from the physical sensation, like he was doing something against his vary nature. Like a wider example of all the little doubts he'd had about this "solution."

He powered through for only a moment longer, before it became very much unbearable. It burned, and not in any pleasant way: like someone had shoved mercury under his skin, blood lit up in a horrid prickling wrongness.

He pulled away with a shudder, and opening his eyes he could tell Mind didn't seem to have enjoyed it either. Fuck. Really bad. 

It was silent between their breathing, neither wanting to admit fault or mistake. Trapped between the urge to suggest a do-over, to try it again, that really it shouldn't have been that bad, and the bone-deep need to pull his skin off, he couldn't say a thing.

Mind never was able to shut up though.

"That was... an experience."

"No shit," He hissed, voice beckoned by Mind's nothing observation.

"I take it that wasn't to your liking either, my Soul?"

"How could you tell?" Snappy, yet again. 

It just looked at him. He stared back, for just a moment, before tearing his eyes away. He couldn't deal with this right now. The worst part was that it wasn't just the kiss though, that was just highlighting the problem. His Fix wasn't the golden path he'd decided it needed to be, and now he was left to deal with the problem once more. They weren't normal. 

It reached out, gentle as it could be half metal, "Hey, we'll... figure something else out."

"How?" and his voice came out split, like two people were speaking at once. He dragged in a shaky breath, he shouldn't be snapping at Mind, it had indulged him in his wild frenzy for answers tonight, had done nothing wrong so far. Oh Harmonia did he want to get angry at someone though. Another sin to add to his tally.

It brought its hand right back to itself, hesitant to be touching him now that he'd gotten himself into a mood. Probably for the best, he doesn't know how he'd handle more of that cold against him.

"We'll figure something out."

He didn't think they would. It didn't look like it thought they could either; shoulders tense and jaw clenched. Nervous. Lying.

"You don't believe that." He barely kept it from turning into a snarl.

It cringed back, probably unhappy with its lie called out. It took a breath, a rebuttal already coming out, it really couldn't shut up, could it? "Soul-"

He turned around, back to his Mind. He couldn't get mad at it, he reminded himself; it was only trying to help. Ineffective, but he had to forgive it. Harmonia would forgive it. Hands clutched to his ears, knees pulled up to his chest, he could hear it spluttering behind him.

"That is so-" it stopped, but he knew what it wanted to say: childish. Why stop itself? It would be saying the first truthful statement of the night, if it didn't.

He curled up further, not wanting to listen, to care. Freaking it out, earning its ire, having convinced it to go alone with his horrible horrible ideas... he didn't know if he felt more shame or anger. Which was safer? Which one was he supposed to be feeling?

There was a sigh, tired, from his Mind. He tried not to take it personally. A second more of shifting, moving blankets. Was it leaving? That would make the most sense. {He ignored the voice in the back of his head screaming to stop it. He didn't want to be alone.}

Before he could stew too long, a blanket was dropped over his shoulders, a barrier between him and Mind. Considerate of it, though he doesn't know why it would do that, he was entirely capable of tucking himself in when it lef- He startled as it settled against his back.

He couldn't feel the cold through the covers, only the pressure, the knowledge. Arms draped over and chest to his spine.

He couldn't cry right now. That would send the wrong message. It was pushing his buttons, he'd made it very clear he was trying to avoid even looking at it and yet- It wasn't touching him. It was trying. Fuck.

He didn't want to cry right now.

"That may have been a... misguided attempt to fix the problem, but there must be a solution. We just haven't found it."

"Don't think so..." He muttered, barely audible.

"Well I don't care."

That startled a laugh from him, wheezy and a bit choked up. "Wasn't this whole thing supposed to be about making me feel better? You can't say "I don't care""

He could almost feel the smile the laugh gained him, the way it relaxed even through the blanket. He stared intensely at the wall, not wanting it to distract him from the issues at hand.

Its next words were soft, going after the small opening in his defenses, "We figured it wasn't romantic. That can just be... a starting point. We know its not romantic, at the very least."

"Fine... okay, I concede we at least learned a little from that..." He paused, considering his next words carefully, "Most of the kisses were fine, really, just... not on the lips."

There was silence for a moment, and he worried that maybe he'd fucked up, said something he shouldn't. Maybe it hated that part too. Maybe it just hated him.

Shifting behind him, than a crackling voice, "ah... me too. That's good, yeah? More information to work with."

He hummed an agreeing noise, "I guess."

It settled its head on his shoulder, another inch closer to him. He didn't push it away, and it relaxed into him, taking that as permission. He shouldn't be letting this happen, not when they still didn't know what This was.

"We don't want our relationship... romantic." The word came out a bit awkward, like it didn't even want to acknowledge they'd tried to go in that direction at all, "And you've decided it can't just be a friend thing-"

Soul huffed, "what do you mean, "decided?" I thought you agreed. Use your logic, my Mind."

It growled behind him, clearly unamused at being interrupted, "Well the romantic angle definitely didn't pan out, and while I see your misgivings about it being wholly platonic... I am beginning to think they may be unfounded."

"Well, good thing your not the emotional interpersonal relationship third, because I don't see reason to heed those misgivings."

"Heart wouldn't give a shit about whether we were calling it romantic or platonic and you know it."

That stopped Soul in his tracks. The words were definitely only meant as a glib comeback, a way for his Mind to have the last laugh but they struck a cord with him. Heart probably wouldn't care whatever Soul and Mind called their relationship, as long as all three of them could live happily.

Was this... another false construct? He thought he was over this, that he'd excised all the rot from his worldview. He couldn't tell.

It just made Sense for there to be things friends shouldn't do. Logical sense, except his logic was cuddled against him and clearly not against being friends through it all.

Awful. He needed to think. He couldn't just... He didn't want to have to throw away more of how he viewed the world. So much of it he'd come to realize was holding him back; the thought that there was still more he hadn't figured out felt sickening.

"My Soul...?" It had gotten all soft again, the teasing air disappearing as quick as it had appeared. He'd probably been silent too long, destroying the moment.

"Sorry, sorry." He mumbled, suddenly nervous all over again. "I just... can friends really be like this?"

It hummed a considering thought, "A friend is someone who is not an enemy or who is on the same side: a familiar or helpful thing. That definition doesn't exclude a bit of... cuddling and kissing, I think."

"..." He narrowed his eyes, ears twitching, "was that a dictionary definition of "friend?""

Silence.

"Cute. When did you even look that up? You can't have done that tonight."

"Ah... near the start of concord."

He laughed, "Why didn't you pull up that definition sooner?"

It tucked its face into his neck, as if to hide it. Ironic, because Soul couldn't see it's face either way, but now he could definitely feel the way its face was steadily getting colder. Blushing. "I... may not be firing on all cylinders. It's late. You woke me up in the middle of the night."

He couldn't help a laugh, "I thought your logic was absolute, yet you can't handle a nighttime conversation?"

"Well I don't see you handling this much better."

"I'm not the one who suggested the first faulty solution," Haughty, like he wasn't at fault for that same suggestion failing.

An indigent sound from behind, like it didn't know what to do with that, "Well excuse me! I wasn't the one having a little crisis he needed his Mind to try and fix."

That got him to turn around, squirming around the blanket until it had fallen off his shoulders and freed his arms. Using the newly acquired mobility, he gave his Mind a little shove, playful, "shut up, you"

It grinned, victorious, and grabbed his arms before he could pull back and dragged it into a hug. Still, it was gentle, or at least as gentle as the mechanical limbs could be, something he could easily struggle out of. All his squirms were token though, and he let himself be dragged into the embrace. 

He huffed, "Was that a ploy, my dear Mind? I thought you over such petty tactics." There was a grin in his voice, one he didn't want to admit was there.

Its smile just widened, "All is fair in love and war, my Soul."

"And so what is this? Love or war?"

Another question he shouldn't have asked, but it answered without hesitation, like it had been planning to it before he'd even finished his question. "Love."

Letting out a laugh, he tucked his face against its chest, "Yeah? That still fit your definition of friend?"

Its arms wrapped around him, steady, safe. "Of course."

"Sure, fine, I'll believe that." He didn't know if he fully did now but... maybe he could. Another day, another week, month, maybe even year but... maybe he could. 

"That's all I ask." Sleepy, content. The stress finally leaving it; a cause enough to pretend to believe it, at the very least.