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dearharriet · 8 months

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Whatever; Steve Harrington 🌓

summary: they say you’ll meet every person in your life twice. the second time you meet steve, you’re in college, and he’s very different from what you remember.

word count: 3.2K

warnings: fem!r, mentions + content of previous bullying, ex-bully!steve, alcohol consumption, some unresolved emotions, angst, hurt/comfort

a/n: i swear im alive i’m just stupidly busy. hope y’all like this one xxx

You circled back to Steve so quickly that a lick of embarrassment flamed at your cheeks, but really, you couldn’t have stopped it. His presence was fascinating, and like a passerby can’t look away from a car accident, you couldn’t resist inspecting Steve.

The house was very dark and humid, crowded with people that went to your university, and people who didn’t. Steve, for example, who had appeared—now for a second time—seemingly out of nowhere. Two weeks ago you’d spotted him at a party across town that a scene band threw, but he’d disappeared before you could talk to him. Tonight, he wasn’t so lucky.

To your relief, he received your sudden presence very gracefully, almost sheepishly. He was bowing his head and his broad shoulders shrunk together carefully. You wanted to say something very bold, something to grab his attention like fancy meeting you here, but the totality of your unfamiliarity made you hesitate.

“Where’ve you been?” you shouted instead, hugging your chest to feign casualness. It sounded, you realized, like you were inquiring as to where he’d been five minutes ago, not indefinitely post-graduation. Steve didn’t seem to mind.

“Hawkins,” he replied, matter-of-fact. “You?”

“Hawkins?” you repeated, ignoring his courtesy. “That’s not like you.” In truth, you probably knew very little about what would be like him and what would not, so you tacked on, “Not to be presumptuous or anything, sorry.”

In school, you and Steve saw very much of each other yet spoke next to never. In the spring of your sophomore year, Tommy Hagan’s father made him walk about the neighborhood and offer to mow lawns for money—something about growing hair on his chest, forming a sense of responsibility—and your mother had just broken her wrist, so she gave him a five dollar bill every Saturday for three months to help out. Tommy was awful at it, and he loathed you, and when you returned to school in September he’d dragged Carol and Steve with him into his loathing.

One day, you couldn’t recall what date—or even what month—but you remembered the three of them had come to find you after classes were done after you’d stayed late. You missed a question on some test, or there was something about a project, whatever. You knew it was late because the halls were empty, and your recollection of that relied heavily on the memory of Carol’s chilling laugh echoing down them, which you never forgot.

“God, Tommy, you’re sadistic.”

They prowled closer, just around the bend. Tommy and Carol were chortling and you could imagine them hanging all over each other the way that they often did. Steve cut in abrasively, something frenetic in his tone.

“I’m telling you, she’s not here, man.”

Steve’s voice bounced down the corridor and sounded back, like radar pinging around and around, detecting movement.

“Relax, Harrington, what’s the rush?”

“Rachel’s waitin’ on me, that’s what,” Steve replied. “And I still gotta drop you two assholes off.”

“Your gal-pal can wait, Steve,” Carol sneered, and you thought her voice was edged with something sharper than exasperation. “Besides, this’ll be fun.”

They turned the corner, and you realized then that it was likely you they were looking for, and it was suddenly too late to turn and hide. You froze, bag heavy on your shoulder and damp starting to form on your brow.

“Ah-ha! Just the girl we wanted to see,” Tommy sang, his voice already lilting meanly. You took a step back, wondering if they’d really chase you if you bolted. Carol had heeled boots on, and you were certain Tommy and Steve wouldn’t hunt down a girl no matter how twisted they were. A guy, sure, but you?

It didn’t matter, because you didn’t run, which you could only blame on yourself and your tendency to petrify under pressure. Anything you chose seemed the worst option, which made the logical solution to do nothing.

“She looks about ready to run,” Carol peered as they came closer, which was very astute for her, all things considered.

“Yeah, maybe.” Tommy grinned. “You wanna play, goodie-two-shoes? Me ‘n Steve’ll give you a head start.”

In retrospect, the roles of Tommy and Carol and Steve, and even you, are played by their fully grown versions. Of course you all looked very young, sounded very young—being fifteen at the time—but it all comes back as if it happened yesterday. It’s warped by everything that happened after.

“Yeah, why don’t you just get it over with, save us all a little time?” Steve picked, his expression almost bored.

You pressed your lips together. Carol stepped behind you, prodding at your bag, and you recoiled, backing closer to the lockers.

“Nah, she’s too chicken-shit,” she hissed, and then ripped your bag from your arms. When you lunged for her, Tommy pushed you back into the metal wall of lockers, and your shoulder blade landed hard on a dial-lock.

“Jesus H Christ, Tommy,” Steve laughed awkwardly, “could you have pushed her any harder?”

“Whatever, man,” Tommy waved him off, watching as Carol dug through your satchel. “You’re soft.”

Steve’s features tightened then, all of a sudden like a switch had been flipped. He took his hand out of his hair and strode over to Carol, taking your bag and emptying its contents onto the linoleum. Notebooks and pens, highlighters and, embarrassingly, a heap of pads, all washed over the floor. Carol had your journal in her hands and Steve took that too, discarding it with everything else.

“I’m fuckin’ tired of this shit,” he muttered, “let’s go.”

“Boo,” Carol complained, “what a wet blanket.”

“Yeah, why don’t you stay here with the teachers’ pet,” Tommy gibed, gesturing at you, “since you both love being L-A-M-E.”

He spelled the word out, holding a backwards L on his forehead that Carol copied.

“Yeah, and who’s gonna drive you home, Tommy?” Steve challenged. Tommy clenched his jaw, rolling his eyes petulantly. Carol’s hip popped as she dropped her hand, lips smacking. “That's what I thought.”

Steve brushed past them then, properly regal and entitled, and they followed him begrudgingly, swapping resentful glances until you couldn’t see them anymore.

In the minutes it took to gather your things back into your bag, you couldn’t resist the cloudy thought that Steve dumping your bag felt like a mercy. In the company of many rabider dogs, his offense was almost magnanimous, and, despite it being your things, felt more targeted at Tommy and Carol than at you. On your way home you decided that that was stupid, and that you were likely feeding into a fantasy that would eventually hurt you.

It wasn’t until after graduation that you realized they were bullying you. At the time it obviously hadn’t felt friendly, but you’d been so fictile then that you assumed most of the blame. When your mind changed, the word bullying alone felt too childish to bear, so you decided it was fine and that you were over it.

Standing before you at the party, Steve was folded in on himself. The memory juxtaposed so coarsely against how he looked now.

“Not like me?” he repeated.

“I just mean,” you continued, “I would’ve thought you’d go to school. Here in Chicago, maybe. I don't know. Indi, at the least.”

He shook his head, cradling his damp beer can closer.

“Yeah, well, I'm not smart like you,” he answered. “I didn’t really get accepted anywhere.”

Steve’s cheeks pinked with embarrassment, but he didn’t look all that dejected. You were sure that was the nicest thing he’d ever said to you, and the added element of self-depreciation threw you off-kilter.

“You still talk with Carol and Tommy and stuff?” It wasn’t much of a question, but Steve looked profoundly confused.

“What? No, I um—“ He licked his lips, looking down. “They ditched me when Hargrove came into town. You don’t remember?”

“Oh,” you said. “No, I must’ve missed that.”

“Yeah, that’s uh. S’ probably for the best. You shouldn’t have been caught up with us anyways.” It sounded like an apology, though not direct enough for you to accept in any way.

“Well it’s not like I never saw Tommy H. and Carol again,” you said, admittedly sour. “I figured you were off with Nancy or whatever. Where is she anyways?”

“Nancy?” You nodded. Shrugging, Steve said, “I wouldn’t know. We broke up in 1984.”

“Oh,” you jolted , “sorry about that.”

“Nah, don’t be.” He looked very sorry about it himself, like he was still wishing it away.

“Well, I am. I always thought you two would get married or something. She seemed like she knew how to keep you in line.”

Steve smiled softly, vaguely.

“Yeah, Nancy’s like that.”

His sentence ended there and didn’t pick back up, and you felt terribly anxious about what to say next. As often as you denied it, you did want to see people from school again, if only to show them they didn’t win. You wanted to happen upon Steve The Hair Harrington, or Tommy H. or Carol Perkins or anyone at all just to affirm that, yes, you were doing significantly better than they expected you to. You wore shoes with heels and makeup and you were just like them, only you could writhe in shameless glory because you were never a prick.

“So what do you do? No school?”

Steve leaned closer then, apprehensive as he brought his mouth to your ear.

“D’you wanna talk outside?” He asked, and then pulled back to gauge your expression. “I can’t hear very well,” he explained, some level of shame coloring him. You nodded tolerantly, following him out to the porch.

It was clear and cold in the Chicago suburbs, like a freshly opened bottle of coke, and you could see Orion’s Belt. You had on a white leather jacket that kept you just warm enough.

“You seem to like it better here,” Steve observed. Your earlier question stood forgotten from the journey outside.

“In a way,” you agreed.

“People are nicer?”

You pinched your brows thoughtfully.

“I wouldn’t say nicer, no.” Fiddling with your jewelry, you looked at the sky. “People have been rude to me here before, but it’s…it isn’t like Hawkins.” You swallowed a freezing breath, wondering if Steve was really standing next to you. “I can leave at any time if it gets to be too much. Or, like, tell them to fuck off if I wanted to. In high school I just had to sit there and take it, and then come back the next day for more.”

Blowing out a stiff laugh, you looked back to Steve. His eyes were downcast, face crumpled, and it looked like he would eat his own mouth before he said a word in response. It was painfully silent, so silent that the wind and your racing heart played a spoilt song together at Steve’s inattentive audience.

Your face felt warm with humiliation. Conversation had grown on you, or so you thought, enough that you wouldn’t become carried away into overzealous speeches to people who didn’t care. You cleared your throat uncomfortably, frowning.

“Do you like Chicago?” You asked Steve, and it turned brittle in the air, like a wisp of ash from a fire.

“I’m so sorry,” his aggrieved response came, and it carved your chest open to hear, in a way. It was something you imagined, a moment you craved, a fantasy you knew would never occur. Now that it had, you felt a million miles away, like he’d said some magic word and hypnotized you, stealing your present mind and leaving you cavernous and vulnerable.

“It’s really okay, Steve,” you said hoarsely. “We were kids, and you were as stuck as I was.”

“I was not,” he sternly denied.

“Sure you were,” you insisted, “it was eat or be eaten. I can’t blame you for not wanting to be picked on.”

“Because I would have died from being unliked,” he retorted sarcastically. You gave him a look as if to say that’s not fair, but you knew he was right. It would have been a different kind of unlike for him. If he’d forfeited his social standing, all of the cruelty and indifference he got would have been directly his decision, and his courage would have been gratifying enough to sustain him.

“Well,” you stammered persistently, “I still think you’re okay. I forgive you.”

“Look, I’m—“ Steve huffed, scrubbing at his hair anxiously. “I’m not trying to fish for compliments. Really. I just have this terrible feeling that you convinced yourself that it’s okay, what all happened in school. But it’s not okay. It’s not.”

He looked into your eyes hotly, a wild turn to his features, and you felt oddly nauseous. You looked at your shoes to avoid his stare, slim heeled boots that all the pretty girls wore in school, and you wondered how you’d feel about those girls if you’d never slipped them on, never had a guy take you home because you looked so good in them.

“What do you want me to do, then?” you asked.

Steve was silent for a moment.

“Whatever you feel,” he replied, “what I want is besides the point.”

“Not to me,” you mumbled, and then regretted it instantly. You pulled your jacket tight around you and shivered, said: “I don’t know what to do.”

A tear tracked hot and shameful down your cheek, dancing with the porch light and the stars and Steve’s eyes. You felt like the whole world was watching you flounder and choke like a fish on a dock. You sucked in, and air stole down your throat in three distinct parts, stuttering and painful.

Steve reached for you then, taking your arm into his grip and crushing you to his chest. Through teary eyes you could spy into the house where the party still thundered. It looked shockingly vibrant and warm inside, a world away from your moment with Steve on the frigid veranda. He was holding your head gently and rubbing at your back, and you could only think of how much you’d been craving this. How you’d yearned over intellectual conversations and counseling sessions for something as real as this moment, here, with Steve. He knew you better than anyone inside, anyone in Chicago, even, and you could not fathom how that had happened.

Pressing into him, you sniffled pitifully and hid your face.

“Sorry for crying,” you said, “I really didn’t want to.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Steve said, for the second time that night. You liked the way he said it, with a soft sternness that left no room for argument. He even went on further to say: “It’s okay if you want to cry some more.”

You rubbed his sleek jacket between your fingers and looked at him.

“You won’t tell anyone?”

Steve laughed, and you knew then that he wouldn’t, like you knew he wasn’t laughing at your expense.

“Who am I gonna tell?” he asked genuinely. You thought about it.

“Tommy or…” Steve shook his head. “No, right, you said that.”

You pretended to think some more, but you had nothing. You said, “I don’t know,” and then expected Steve to give you a name, like you were playing a guessing game and you’d lost. Instead, he drew his arms tighter around your shoulders, so that your chin was trapped on his chest as you looked up at him.

“I won’t tell a soul if that’s what you want,” he admitted, a shiny frond of his hair escaping the fray to sway between you two. “I think I’d do whatever you asked, actually.”

He seemed very affronted by that fact, as if he was only discovering it as he told you, right then.

“Would you—” You licked your lips. Looked at Steve’s. Asked: “Would you kiss me?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed, “‘course.”

He kissed you then, acerbic ale transferring from his lips to yours. The stray hair caught between your foreheads, doing what your noses could not and flattening. Steve’s hands held you firmly, at the back of your neck and on your upper arm, and it made you shudder. He was kissing you dizzy—not nearly the first you’d ever had, but certainly the first that felt worthwhile, the first that felt good and right and deserved.

As you pulled away shyly, Steve kept his eyes closed, his jaw working and his breath uneven.

“Steve?” you called.

“Hm?”

“Did I do something wrong?”

Steve hummed negatively, tapping his forehead back onto yours and finally blinking his eyes open.

“No, sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be sorry.” You smiled, and Steve grinned knowingly, like he could tell he’d be hearing that a hundred times a week from then on. You asked him what he was thinking and he fiddled with your jacket collar nervously.

“Just about you. In Chicago and everything. Where that puts us.” Steve scrunched his face in a sort of wince like that might upset you. “I mean, not that there has to be an us at all—if that’s not what you want, or if I’m getting ahead of myself.”

He says the last bit like a question, like a request. Like: Please say I’m not getting ahead of myself?

“No, I wouldn’t say you are,” you assured him. “I didn’t even think about the distance. Does it bother you?”

“Yeah,” Steve said without hesitation, but a small abashed smile played on his lips. “But I meant what I said, whatever you say goes. Whatever you want me to do.”

You looked him over, from the tallest strand of his styled hair down to where your chests met, taking in his moles and the fibers of his shirt.

“Do you have anyone at home that you’d miss?” you asked, and Steve’s face said everything, even as he shook his head stubbornly.

“Baby, whatever you want. Ask me to move up and I will.”

Smiling, you kissed him curiously, the feeling so novel and thrilling. His responding squeeze on your arm shot through you to your very center.

“I still have my family in Hawkins,” you told him dazedly. “I go home every holiday. We can visit. And it’s only a year and half before I graduate, and then we can figure something new out.”

Steve smiled dryly, perhaps anticipating a different answer, but ultimately you knew it’d be best not to rush anything. You were content, all of the excitement and adrenaline seeping from your body and making you feel soft around the edges. You shivered a touch, and Steve rocked you both to and fro.

“Do you wanna go back inside,” he asked, his mouth on your hairline. You shook your head, stuffing your face in the junction of his neck and shoulder.

“Can we stay here just a little longer?” you pleaded.

“‘Course we can,” Steve granted, soothing his fingers through your hair. “Whatever you want.”

thank u for reading xx

masterlist

#stranger things #steve harrington #reqs open #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #king steve #steve the hair harrington #kisses

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starscabaret · 7 months

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☆Meeting Yandere! Vincent ☆

pairing: yandere! Vincent x fem reader

summary: Meeting Vinny <333

warnings: n/a

authors note:

Vincent had brushed into the small town a few months earlier on a contract for his engineering firm. The job paid well and he had little to no attachment anywhere so he made the move. He lived in an upscale condo about 30 minutes out from the actual town he’d be working in. Paid for by the company of course.

He had a routine, call mom once a week, send a letter once a month, go to work every weekday, go to the gym every weekday, grocery shop on Sundays, and get a haircut every 3 weeks. Not much changed for him really unless it was necessary.

He liked it that way, in his free time he drew, invested, and dabbled in a few books and tv. He wouldn’t call himself the happiest man alive, but he was getting by, and his mom was doing well. That’s all he ever wanted.

Just like any other day on the job site Vincent set in his small office inside the mobile trailer going over blueprints and whatnot. That is until you came banging on the flimsy trailer door. Vincent thought the damn police were here. Lo and Behold when he opened the door there you were in pajamas, and slippers, and sleep still in your eyes.

As soon as the door opened you spoke, “Look man, I really was nice at first and didn’t say anything but do y’all have to be so loud at 7 am? It’s waking me and my son.”

Vincent stood there deadpan he didn’t know what to reply. There was nothing he could really do to delay construction in the early hours without derailing the whole project. And normally he would have slammed the door in your face had it been anyone else. But you, you made his heart beat fast and he blanked on a response. Besides the fact that he was a man of very few words.

“Come in.” He said as he pulled you into the office like trailer.

“You seem to be the boss sir, is there anything you can do?” You said while rubbing your eyes.

“You must live in the house a few acres over, what’s your name?” He spoke low and grumbly.

“Yeah I do, it’s a family house but no one gives a shit anymore. All moved off to the big city, scared of the water. Oh, Im f/n l/n” you replied in an annoyed tone.

“I can’t tell them to halt all work in the morning is there anything I can do instead?” He asked, wanting to remedy this. He didn’t want to upset you. You were alluring to him. This was also the most he had spoken to anyone in days.

“You come to explain to my son why you’re disrupting his sleep!” you said with irritation in your voice.

When Vincent got to your home to apologize to your son, he was met with Ben. Ben was a 3-year-old beautiful Doberman.

Vincent was a bit relieved it was a dog and not a child, as he was already daydreaming about how he would give you your first child.

Vincent didn’t speak much or have the best social skills but he knew that his interest in you wasn’t normal. Nor did he know how to express such interest.

Good thing you found him handsome, and took interest in his quiet reserved demeanor. You had to know more, you had to dig past the surface. You were bold and willing to take charge and make the moves. You had never seen a man like him in your town before, or anywhere for that matter.

You were happy you went and complained that morning. Who said complaining didn’t get you anywhere?

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iireneleee · 1 year

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MY FAVOURITE PLACEMENTS FOR EACH SIGN (with explanation of course 😚😚)

remember, don’t take this too seriously cause this whole thing is fully based on my own personal opinion so im sorry if I didn’t mention your placement(s). don’t be offended okay?! MUAH I love all of yall 💋

Aries: I’d probably say 50% venus 25% moon 15% sun — honestly this is kinda hard for me cause my best best friend is an Aries moon and I get along very well with Aries moons however… this one girl that I broke off all contacts with cause she was obsessive ( she still hasn’t stop💔💔 even though we stopped talking for 2 years, super creepy) 50% venus because omg literally almost every single lovely person I know has that placement it’s mad. maybe it’s bc my venus conjuncts theirs (I’m also an aries venus) they express love in a way I adore so 💕💕 for aries sun, 25% because I’m only close with one aries sun but she’s literally so fly I love. but she says some weird stuff occasionally though she’s too unfiltered HAHAHA love that.

Taurus: definitely taurus moon 50% and taurus mercury 50% — taurus moons are literally the cutest people ever. idk why but all of y’all are like little hamsters in my eyes. taurus moons remind me so much of hamsters. many of you are probably leaders and I love being around you guys. super sweet and always there when I need y’all muah muah. people always stereotype you guys as lazy people but every single taurus moon I know are the most hardworking people ever. super admirable individuals 😚😚 those who have natal taurus mercury people are the funniest. y’all are like LOWKEY old souls. very good people to be in a group project with cause they always voice out the best opinions and ideas. they are also really relatable individuals they say things that many people would like relate to idk how to describe it, meme worthy i guess?? I love y’all so much. sometimes they ignore people when they say stupid stuff but whatever they’re literally one of the best people so they get a free pass.🤫🤫

Gemini: mmmm I’d say 50% gemini suns and 50% gemini risings. honestly, I haven’t met many gemini placements 😭 my sister is a gemini rising so i might be a little biased HAHAH sorry my bad my bad. i love gemini risings they always give me one of the best first impressions. i tend to get along really well with gemini risings and tend to gravitate towards them hehe. also for gemini suns, most are pretty cool. i realise that gemini suns tend to be really nice and grounded when you meet them but when you get closer to them they’re little devils IN A GOOD WAY hahah. all my interactions and memories with gemini suns are actually really good. they always promise a good time 🙏🙏

Cancer: CANCER VENUS🔥🔥 for sure cancer venus. omg i love them. they give really good hugs LOL. super sweet individuals. i love the way they express their love it’s so cute especially when you’re the recipient of the love literally so 😍😍. one of my friends have this placement and oml she gives such meaningful gifts. she is the reason why I have high expectations for gifts LOL. i really hope i get to befriend more cancer venuses 💔💔 they’re really thoughtful people who take initiative very very lovely 🫶

Leo: leo moons 🙏🙏 y’all are so chill. literally are the 😐 people ITS SO FUNNY . I love y’all so much I always have ‘beef’ with leo moons lol literally tom and jerry but it’s so fun. bickering (affectionately) I know I lot who don’t study but r really smart or at least all of y’all tell me you don’t study😐😐 I know a lot of you guys who r dancers too and omg really pro dancers srs srs. super fun people but they lowkey about it.

Virgo: definitely virgo sun + virgo venus I have so many virgo sun babes (aka friends) they’re so so sweet. im always having a fun carefree time when im with you guys. never a dull moment. you guys are like my babies srs srs you guys just gave me that youthful feel and it’s so refreshing omg🫂🫂. virgo venus people are so funny idek why they’re so underrated. they’re also very big mouth literally tell them something humiliating that happen to you and if it doesn’t sound like you’re very bothered by it trust people around you probably also know about it BUT it’s okay cause they cute, I can never get mad at them. also very playful people. 💋💋 i love talking to them but at the end of the convo omg we are like probably fighting / arguing (affectionately) LOL i don’t get many gifts from them honestly but they LOVE to give food. hehe 💋💋 to my virgo venus sweethearts

Libra: libra suns + libra moons so 50 - 50 hehe libra suns are really helpful people. they’re like honestly very libra idk why. they’re so so sweet, always there to listen to you ramble. my mama is a libra sun and omg she’s always listening to me ramble and rant ITS SO FUNNY. sometimes you guys are too nice to people that they tend to take advantage of your kindness so always be on the look out and know your worth 😚😚 . libra moons ARE SO FUNNY. i love you guys, y’all always make me lose my breath over your jokes. super random people who talk about out of pocket things but it’s so unique and fun with you guys that I can’t help but laugh everytime i see yalls face. also pretty smart people. you guys always do your best in things that you’re passionate about and it’s really admirable however, when y’all dgaf about stuff man all that quality work is gone LOL but it’s okay me too. best people to have around y’all remind me of those circus seals. 🔥🔥firee

Scorpio: scorpio venus — I really love scorpio venus individuals omg. they’re always there for you and always ready to attend all your big moments without fail. I had this one friend who has a scorpio venus and she take time out of her own busy schedule to train me for my interview and we stayed at the place until like the sunset it was so wholesome. not only did she do that but she was with me when I got my interview results like I was so shocked I thought she stayed cause she also had something to do afterwards but turns out she had nothing to do and she planned to wait for me and leave right after omg i literally melted. I treasure her so much and because of that I’ve always had a good impression of her. super sweet individuals. little cinnamon buns, warm and sweet. they also really are big on physical touch cliché I know but it’s real HAHA. everyone should have a scorpio venus friend or significant other 😭😭💋💋

Sagittarius: sagittarius moons — out of all my close friends in my click, half are sagittarius moons, it’s literally mad. they’re such unique individuals all of them have different personalities even though they have the same moon. but one thing they all have in common is that they find the weirdest stupidest unfunniest jokes funny. it’s mad. I can pull out a photo of a cat on the ground holding a fish and they’d be cracking up like mad. they all really enjoy being around positive and responsible people, people who are like them. they always burst out laughing idk y they try to hold their laugh but they never laugh normally. I love them though it’s always so comfortable around them MUAHHH💋💋

Capricorn: capricorn moons + capricorn mercury 50-50 — omg my baby capricorn moons, they’re so athletic, or maybe it’s just the capricorn moons I know but omg they’re so competitive when it comes to sport. they’re actually really reliable people even though they may seem quite playful and reckless. they tend to be good at math. love food. they also like to make handmade things for their friends and it’s really random. sometimes I come out of class one day and they just ask me if I want a cookie. LOL and one of my friends gave me a piece of paper that she doodled and drew on FOR ME it’s so cute and random but makes me physically like become the 🥺 emoji. love u guys. for capricorn mercuries y’all have the most underrated humour YALL ARE SO FUNNY LOL. you guys make the funniest jokes with the straightest faces like this face, 😐. MAKES ITS EVEN FUNNIER LOL. y’all tend to text a lot and are quite talkative actually. love you guys cause you guys never hesitate to make the conversation about the other party rather than yourself LOL JOKING ( but FR though you guys make me feel like the main character whenever I’m talking to u ) 🫂🫂

Aquarius: mmm i haven’t really befriended many who have aquarius placements so this may not be relatable😭😭 sorry!! but I’ll have to go with aquarius moons. — I tend to get attracted to aquarius moons cause they seem really fun. idk why but they all seem like a ball of sun to me. they remind me of fluffy cows HAHAH. they’re really cool individuals and they’re really kind. super sweet people who are always willing to help you and take initiative LOVE THEM💕💕. wish I get to know more aquarius moons, they’re just so loveable and reliable. 🫶🫶😚

Pisces: pisces moons 50% + pisces risings 25% + pisces mercury 25%💕💕💕 — OMG pisces moons BRUU literally my babes. I love them so much. they’re always there to help. they’re really responsible people even though they like to have fun. best people to have for group projects. they’re also really good at putting themselves in other peoples shoes hence making them very good at comforting others. very good friends that would do anything for you. they tend to radiate the same energy you give them so always give your best to them for you to receive the best💪💪 for pisces risings, I just really like they’re features. they all give like a reserved energy and many people would think that they’re really high achievers and admirable people with a cute face HEHE. they’re really sweet and awkward at first but once you get to know them omg it’s a huge difference they’re little devils LOLOLOL (in a good way🤫🤫) I tend to have many pisces rising friends maybe cause their rising is in my seventh house but 😚😚 whatever. they’re little choco pies, random ik but it just fits their whole persona . pisces mercuries are really chill people who like to talk. I love them so much cause like tend to relate to one another a lot and i just love to talk to them because they’re so easy to talk to. just pull out a random topic and they would prob be able to talk about it, very versatile speakers. also, they don’t really share their opinions at times. like sometimes i want to eat something with them but their whole face writes “no that looks disgusting” so I ask them if they’re sure that they’re fine with the restaurant and they say that they’re fine but they’re not really fine LOLOLOL they’re so cute HAHAH love them. they always put others before themselves.

made by: @iireneleee

#astro observations #astro posts #astrology #astrology notes #astrology observations #astrology placements #iireneleeeastro💕#astro placements #astrology community

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starlightkun · 4 months

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⇢ word count: 13.5k ⇢ warnings: past unethical experimentation, you have to accept the premise of a single human empire in space in the future with colonies and a military and not think deeper about that, multiple needle/injection mentions, main characters are morally gray, and oh yeah cursing ⇢ genre: sci-fi, set in the near-ish future, humans and aliens and robots, black op mission, captain kun, ?????? reader, slow burn, fluff, dash of angst, ft. wayv as the crew of the vision ⇢ extra info: took a lot of obvious inspo for this one from isaac asimov’s robot stories, specifically his concept of positronic brains & the three laws of robotics (and if you’ve read any of his stories, you’ll probably be able to see some other places too) ⇢ author's note: holy shit, this is finally it. the last part. THE last part. im literally vibrating rn y’all, im so excited for you to read this one, i hope you’ve been enjoying this fic im so so proud of it and love it so much ⇢ series masterlist | prev.

You looked down at his hand, then back up at him. “Do you want whatever a robot’s love is?”

“Here’s the engine room,” Ten announced, pushing open a door. Inside were multitudes of pipes, tubes, and wires. On your tour with Kun, he had only pointed out the door to you, not taken you inside.

You looked around with interest, following the pilot further in. He was walking towards a large cylinder set lower than the floor, about the same height as him. Thin bands of white light wrapped around the body of it, stopping where it tapered into a blunt end. Ten stepped down into the inset, now a head shorter than the cylinder, and jerked his head for you to follow.

You dropped down as well, looking up at the contraption.

“This is the slipdrive,” he gestured to it grandly. “Brand new.”

“It’s smaller than the second gen,” you observed immediately, looking around the engine room. “The dimensions of the prior model would be… twice as large?”

“Correct.”

“The Vision was built before the new slipdrive, it’s meant to use the prior model, which has a completely different energy signature. How are they compatible?”

“You’re fun,” he declared with a grin, resting a hand on the side. But the explanation he seemed about to launch into stopped short, as the smile fell from his face and turned baffled. “Well that’s not right.”

“What?”

“ZEN?” Ten called out for the AI. “There isn’t something wrong with the slipdrive, is there? You’d tell us.”

“Of course, Sergeant,” ZEN’s voice confirmed, though his avatar didn’t appear. You figured he might not have a terminal to project himself from down here.

“So it’s just… idling?”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“Why’d you turn it on idle?”

“Captain Qian’s order.”

“Should’ve figured. Thanks, man.” Ten just looked even more troubled.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Captain apparently ordered ZEN to suspend us in slipspace…” He crossed his arms thoughtfully. “I’m assuming you know the difference between turning off a slipdrive and idling one?”

“Turning off a slipdrive drops the ship out of slipspace. Idling it suspends it in slipspace.”

“It’s not exactly putting it in park. The longer we’re in slipspace, the more the slipdrive and the ship’s systems have to work to hold its position outside time and space. Not an ideal position to be in for a protracted amount of time.”

You gulped, following after Ten as he started towards the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to ask the captain why he suspended us in slipspace,” he said simply.

Ten seemed to barely register you accompanying him to Kun’s office, or at least didn’t mind if he did notice. The door was open when the two of you got there, and Ten knocked as he walked in.

Kun looked up from where he had been staring rather listlessly at his desk reader displaying some report. He dismissed the document as he went to give his greetings, “Ah, Ten, Y/N. How can I help you?”

“We were just down in the engine room, Captain,” Ten started. “I was showing Y/N the new slipdrive, when I noticed that it uh, it wasn’t set to propulsion.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“Why did you suspend us in slipspace, Captain?” His words, despite their bluntness, held no hostility or malice, they clearly weren’t accusatory or suspicious, just curious, inquisitive.

The captain sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. You chewed on the inside of your cheek nervously. After far too long of a pause to be comfortable, he replied, “There is… a matter that needs to be resolved before we arrive at UHN Main. Do you trust that you do not need to know anything further at this time?”

“How long will it take to resolve?”

“I don’t know, unfortunately.”

“Just making sure we’re all on the same page about the slipdrive idling.”

“It’s brand new, and the newest model. Not to mention ZEN is monitoring all the systems. If an immediate danger becomes present, I will obviously reevaluate.”

Ten seemed satisfied. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, yeah?”

“Thank you, Ten.”

“Alright, Y/N, have you seen the armory? I bet you could trick out a blaster like you did the coffee machine.”

Before he could take you back out of the captain’s office, however, Kun cleared his throat. “I wanted to have a word with Y/N, actually.”

“Gag, okay.” Ten headed for the door alone. “I’ll find a manual for the blasters, Y/N. Find me when you’re done. Bye!”

And then it was just you and Kun. And ZEN, presumably.

You turned to Kun, fidgeting with your fingers. “I didn’t say anything about you suspending the slipdrive, Kun. He was showing me the engine room because he knew I had read about the new slipdrive model, and he noticed it was idling all on his own. ZEN told him you suspended the ship.”

“I’m not angry, Y/N,” Kun reassured you gently. “Apparently Liu has been doing some thinking, about the headache you got yesterday.”

“…Right.”

“He wants to take another look at your head, to see if he can figure out what was causing the pain. And ideally, disable it.”

The mention of a painful headache made you shift your weight from foot to foot. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew what he was talking about, but it felt like it happened to someone else, not like your own memory.

“Okay, sure,” you agreed.

In Yangyang’s lab again, he had you lay down on one of the cool metal counters this time, and you felt startlingly like an autopsy cadaver as you stared up at the sterile white light above.

“Well?” Yangyang prompted the captain pointedly, holding his hand out palm-out.

“Well what?” Kun snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“My positronic Allen key that you stole yesterday. I need it back now.”

“I don’t have it.”

“Don’t tell me you destroyed it in some noble, romantic gesture, or so help me, Captain—”

“I have it, Yangyang,” you interrupted, digging into your pocket to bring it out. You offered it out to the roboticist. “Here.”

“Ah, thank you, Y/N,” he beamed, accepting the coin into his hand. “Now, unlike last time, I’ll be putting you into repair stasis. You’ll lose muscle tension, kind of like when you’re asleep, except you’ll be awake. Hence why you’re laying down. That’s so if I were to test out anything that caused unexpected movement, you wouldn’t injure yourself or break anything. But I won’t be messing with any of that, promise. I’m just going to be looking around at how your head’s constructed.”

“Like… opening my head?”

“I don’t think yours does that.” He shook his head with what looked like a nearly disappointed frown. “I’m no human doctor, but from what I remember of your x-ray, I’m pretty sure your positronic brain is encased in mostly human stuff. At least, stuff that doesn’t look like metal on an x-ray. Bone, skin, who knows? I’ll be doing live imaging with some robotics tools this time to try to look at what’s inside.”

“Got it…”

When he held the Allen key up to your head this time, the side that faced you had a glowing pentagon in the center rather than a triangle. Yangyang talked as he slowly slid it around your forehead and temple, “The receiver to turn on repair stasis is usually around the same area as diagnostic stasis, but not always.”

“Holy shit…” Liu breathed out as he moved the sensor over your forehead, continuing to develop the image on the small handheld screen in his other hand.

Captain Qian tensed. “What? What’s going on?”

“I was kind of right. Y/N’s head wasn’t exploding so much as ripping itself apart from the inside.” The roboticist squinted at the parallel, jointed strips of metal at strategic points around your positronic brain casing. If they were to expand, which it definitely looked like they were meant to do, they would not only rip the casing apart, allowing the organic, wet human fluids like blood into the carefully aligned positronic brain, but fracture and break your skull from the inside out.

“Well fix whatever did that!” The captain snapped.

“I can’t.”

“What kind of roboticist are you?”

“A fucking good one,” the lieutenant shot back, the tension in the room finally getting to him as he bit back at his superior. “Because I can tell that nothing is faulty, Captain. It’s a failsafe. If certain parameters are met, the failsafe is triggered, and her entire positronic brain is permanently destroyed.”

He sighed, looking over the mechanics again. They were almost too familiar to him, rudimentary, but effective. They were widely considered cruel to use on robots nowadays. His roboethics professor was the first vocal opponent of such failsafes, especially when the topic of sentient robots was brought up. A human ordering a robot to destroy itself was one thing, a direct order, a choice, a decision. But installing failsafes for a robot to destroy itself, entirely unaware of what was happening to it was different. You weren’t even just a robot, you were… something else. A person, regardless of what percentage of you was organic matter.

“I doubt she’s doing it consciously,” Liu added, as if that made it any better.

“But you said someone either took all her data or destroyed it already, then ordered her to forget everything! What the fuck would this failsafe even do?” The captain was still demanding answers, insisting on reason, on anything less than the brutal reality in front of them.

“Presumably destroy the last thing left from whatever shady thing was happening down there.” Liu nodded to you, laying limp on the counter, eyes closed, almost looking peaceful, if one could imagine that you were sleeping.

“I hate to ask… but why keep her like this in the first place? Why not just destroy her when they abandoned Aegeum? Why do all this to her and not just trigger the failsafe? It’s just… cruel,” Captain Qian said, his voice hoarse. The lieutenant didn’t need to look at him to know that he was staring at you. They both were.

“I wish I knew, Captain. I wish I could tell you anything.”

“It registers as pain for her?”

“She remembers being human a lot better than she remembers being a robot, those might be the only words she has for it,” Liu offered up an explanation, then another, “I also haven’t seen a model exactly like her… I don’t know how much of her is organic. She could have nerves, pain receptors. If she says it hurts, then I believe her as much as if you told me you got a boo-boo.”

“Is there any way you can take the failsafe out? Or deactivate it at least?” The captain asked, voice near pleading now.

Liu turned away from you to shoot the captain a look, retorting, “Without accidentally triggering it or turning her into a positronic vegetable in the process? Fuck no.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“God, what the hell went on down there?”

“The more I learn, the less I think I want to know.”

“You’re going to have to tell the rest of the crew. You know that, right?” The roboticist said bluntly, leaning his elbows forward on his knees to look the captain in the eyes.

Captain Qian ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “I know…”

“I won’t blab. This is between you and Y/N. We all trust you to tell us what we need to know when we need to know it. But I think they need to know this for Y/N’s sake.”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t want them accidentally triggering the failsafe or ordering her to do something.”

“Or another flying knife incident.”

“Fuck, that too…” He swore, looking up to the ceiling as he tried not to imagine your head randomly exploding at mess one morning. The captain focused back on his crewmate. “Are you about done with her like this?”

Liu stood up, setting the positronic Allen key onto the countertop next to your head. “Yep.”

“See you at mess, Liu.” The captain nodded to him as the roboticist moved to leave, closing the door behind him.

The captain picked up the Allen Key, gently lifting and turning your head to be able to access the base of your skull. He slid the key into place as he’d seen Liu do twice now, pressing the side with the pentagon to your skin until the coin buzzed twice against his fingertips. Setting the key aside, he delicately placed your head back down.

This time, you could tell that time had passed. Kun was standing above you, in the process of letting your head go, so tenderly, and you didn’t quite remember him grabbing it, but you didn’t not remember him grabbing it. You blinked slowly, eyes following him as he stepped back politely.

“Y/N?” He said your name quietly, holding your gaze. “You with me?”

“Yeah, Kun,” you replied, slowly sitting up. “I’m here…”

“How much of that were you actually hearing?”

“All my systems were operative but not talking to each other. I could hear you guys, but I wasn’t actually processing what you were saying.”

“Sounds like Wong in our briefings,” Kun joked dryly, and you let out a half-hearted chuckle. When tense silence fell over the two of you, he cleared his throat and continued, “Anyway, Liu thinks we have to be careful with our words when discussing certain things about your amnesia or Aegeum, and that the headache is a failsafe is to keep us from prying too far.”

You tried to argue, “I can deal with a headache if it helps—”

“Y/N, it’s not just a bad migraine. It’s a self-destruct button. And pushing it wouldn’t help us at all.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So we’re going to leave it alone, alright?”

“No picking at the scab.”

The corner of his lip twitched. “Exactly.”

“I-I think I’d like to go back to our room,” you said weakly.

“I’ll go with you.”

When you woke up from your midday nap, you weren’t expecting Kun to still be in the room, honestly. But there he was, sat at the desk with the paperback book from Aegeum, having turned the chair around to face the bed. As you stirred, he dog-eared his page and set the book aside. You yawned and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes for the second time that day.

He stood up and moved to sit on the edge of the mattress, offering you a tentative smile. “Hey.”

“Hey…” You echoed hesitantly.

Kun inhaled through his nose, then exhaled through his mouth before drawing his eyes up to meet yours and setting his shoulders. “Whatever kind of impulses and signals fire in me that my brain interprets as love, I don’t question those. If the best word you have for what’s going in you is love, it’s not my place to question that either. I’m not the gatekeeper of the word.”

You held his gaze steadily. “Do you think I only love you because of the First Law?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Can you live with yourself not knowing?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m sure this has been a lot for you too, I won’t push you for an answer right now,” you said quietly, slinging your feet over the side of the bed to stand up.

As you made your first step towards the door, hand outstretched to grab the handle, Kun spoke up, “I…”

You stopped, your hand falling back down to your side as you turned back to look at him curiously. “What is it?”

“Never mind.” He rushed to shake his head.

“You were going to ask something, weren’t you?”

“It’s okay. You were going.”

“You can ask. I know the difference between question that I can say no to, and an order.”

He still hesitated.

“You’ve seen me say no, haven’t you? Even to you, when there was no danger. Think.”

Kun finally nodded. “You’re right.”

“So?”

“I want— Could you… Would you mind… staying, for a little bit? You don’t have to… you can sit over on the other bed, or at the desk, or leave, or whatever you want, but…”

“I want to be around you too, Kun,” you said the words that you knew he couldn’t bring himself to for fear of it being too forceful, sitting back down next to him, closer than before. “Even if… you don’t know what to do about it.”

He swallowed thickly, and you saw his jaw tighten. You held your hand out for him, watching as he slowly put his on top.

You woke up first in the morning. From where your head rested on your pillow, you could see Kun’s own sleeping form in the bottom bunk of the other bed. Yesterday had been a bittersweet time: he told you about the book he was reading, you shared what you’d learned about the latest subject you’d been perusing, you gave him his injections, and the two of you had been unable to leave each other. Until it was time to go to sleep, and then Kun wordlessly got under the sheets on the other side of the room.

Slipping out of your cabin, you started down the halls of the ship. You had no particular destination in mind, thinking that maybe you’d go to the observation deck before eventually meandering over to the kitchen for mess, but more-so wanting to stretch your legs and let your mind ruminate. Your positronic mind. Even that thought alone was something you were still turning over.

As you passed by the robotics lab, however, you weren’t expecting to see light coming from under the door. Stopping, you gently turned the handle and pushed it open, finding it unlocked. Yangyang—or who you assumed to be Yangyang, as their face was completely covered by a welding mask—was at one of the workstations, welding something together as sparks flew up around his hands, and you squinted, covering your eyes against the brightness.

“Hey, Yangyang,” you announced your presence.

He perked up towards the sound of your voice, and waved his hand that was holding the robot piece in it. “Oh, hey, Y/N.”

“Are you busy?”

“Does it look like I am?” He gestured to the materials in front of him.

You looked over the countertops that seemed more cluttered than normal, welding tools that he was actively using, and robot part that was still in his hand. “I mean, yeah, kind of.”

“Nah, come in.” He waved you in, setting his tools and project down as you stepped further in. Still aware of how early it was in the morning, you shut the door behind you. The roboticist took his welding mask off, putting that aside and mussing his hair up with his fingers. “I really am sorry about the other day, by the way. Giving you an order.”

“Oh, that’s not why I’m here.”

“I didn’t think it was, but I still wanted to apologize. I needed to do it, but it was still a shitty thing. So I’m sorry. I’d do it again, to save your life, but I’ll apologize after every time.”

You tilted your head curiously. “Then what’s the point of apologizing?”

“Because you deserve one,” he said sincerely, firmly.

“Well, thanks. For saving me, and apologizing, I guess.”

“So, what do you need?” He changed his tone, throwing on a bright smile.

You took a deep breath, pulling up another stool to sit across the counter from him. “Do you think I can love?”

“From a robotics standpoint, I don’t know enough about how you’re constructed to be able to say much about what you can do.” He leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the tabletop, lacing his fingers together over his stomach. “But that doesn’t matter. Ever since humans invented the idea of love, we’ve been debating about if it’s real, what it is, trying to study it, sell it, whatever.”

“Sounds like you don’t think it’s real.”

“Sure it is. As real as any abstract, undefinable concept is,” he shrugged. “Humans like to think they’re special. It was only in recent human history that we even learned that we weren’t the only intelligent species in the universe. And even then, there were some people who said that surely what sets us apart from them is that humans are the only species capable of love. And when we finally got translators proficient enough and could talk to them and we found out that they had the concept of love too, then it became that humans are the only ones capable of real love. Whatever that is.”

“The other species might’ve been thinking that about humans, too.”

“True.” He tapped his thumbs together thoughtfully, then continued, “My old roboethics prof, he used to say something: There’s no true metalman.”

“What does it mean?” You asked curiously.

“It’s a play on ‘no true Scotsman,’ which is a logical fallacy. The fallacy itself is kind of irrelevant. But it means there’s no such thing as a pure robot, free of human influence. That no matter how hard a roboticist may try, they’ll unintentionally leave some trace of themselves in whatever they create. There is always some human choice to be made at some point in the process. Some cases are more obvious than others, like early robots that had more limited built-in vocabularies talking like their creators, or a roboticist making seemingly arbitrary aesthetic decisions for a robot’s head features then his buddy walks in and jokes that it kind of looks like the first guy’s ex-wife.”

You blinked. “Did that really happen?”

“It’s an ‘everyone knows a guy who worked with a guy who…’ kind of thing,” he explained. “Anyway, my point is that I don’t think it’s so hard to imagine that a species so obsessed with love might, intentionally or not, make something that loves too.”

You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, thinking about the difference in Kun from before and after you went into repair stasis. “Is that what you told Kun?”

“What?” Yangyang’s confusion seemed genuine.

“I don’t know, I figured he would’ve talked to you about it,” you mumbled, looking down at your hands.

“No, he hasn’t.” After a moment, he added, “For what it’s worth, I think if he was to be taking my word about if you can love over yours… that wouldn’t be a great sign?”

You let out a choked laugh. “What does it mean that I’m asking you that then?”

“You’re someone who knew so little about yourself in the first place and now feels like you’ve had all that turned on its head. You’re doing what you’ve always done: Asking questions. I think that’s perfectly fair.”

“You don’t think I’ve completely lost what little sense of self I had?”

“I think you might feel like that—I can’t read your mind—but this doesn’t make the Y/N we got to know on Aegeum a figment of our imagination. You weren’t pretending to be our friend.”

“You don’t think that was the First Law?”

“The flying knife and the ceiling, definitely First Law behavior,” he conceded. “But I’ve met some rude, unhelpful robots before, trust me.”

“When did you know?” You asked. “That I wasn’t completely human?”

“I suspected something from when they found you untouched with no memories. I thought you were an android with a busted memory core. But then you bled.”

“I thought androids didn’t exist.”

“They don’t, but it’s the best I could come up with. No way was I expecting that they had actually developed a functioning humanoid before the first android.”

“Maybe they did but they didn’t survive.”

“Oh, you see, now that’s sad,” Yangyang clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Don’t make me think about that.”

“Sorry,” you chuckled a little, then went to change the topic. “So what were you working on?”

As Yangyang began explaining the personal project he had been tinkering with when you walked in, you let your seemingly ever-present problems fade into the background, eagerly listening to his enthusiastic words.

After breakfast, you took an extra plate of food to Kun’s office, knocking firmly on the closed door. When ZEN had called him for mess earlier, the AI reported back that he didn’t want to be disturbed, and the other six of you were to eat without him.

“Come in,” he voiced from within.

You entered, spotting him at the desk, hunched over reports with his head in his hand. “You missed breakfast.”

“Sorry, I… thinking.”

“About?” You asked, setting his food on the only empty space left on his desk.

“Thanks,” he took the food, moving some of his papers aside to put the plate front and center. “The Skippers that were on Aegeum, we still don’t know why they were there.”

“No, we don’t. Or why they were flying Fishead pods instead of their own ships.”

“I was just re-reading this report from the Admiral from before we entered slipspace. List of attacks by Fishead pirates, but there’s something off about a couple of them. The targets are all UHN scientific sites, not military vessels or trade outposts, and nothing was pillaged. Just destroyed.”

You tilted your head thoughtfully. “Were any K’llor spotted at the attacks, or only their ships?”

“It looks like they were just aerial attacks, cannon blasts. So, it would seem like a no.”

“If we assume those weren’t K’llor pirates driving those pods, and were actually more Skippers looking to destroy rather than plunder…”

“Two’s a coincidence, three’s a pattern.”

You sat in one of the chairs across his desk from him. “Were the facilities bigger or smaller than Aegeum?”

“Sites, not facilities,” Kun corrected you. “They weren’t even buildings. One was an unmanned space station in orbit around a meteor. It was ran entirely by robots, so it had no defenses. The other was a solar farm installed on a colony planet. They left the city it was powering alone.”

“So… no fatalities?”

“None. The city that lost their solar farm is running on back-up generators until the solar farm gets fixed.”

“If they were all Skippers, and they were all together, then what the hell happened on Aegeum?”

“They may not be in the same faction. Or they may have been at some point, then diverged only recently because of… differing ideals.”

“Still makes you wonder how they ended up at Aegeum in the first place…” You mused. “Doesn’t seem like a place you could really stumble upon accidentally.”

“No, not particularly.” Kun shook his head. After a beat of silence of him pushing food around on his plate and you silently mulling over what you had just been talking about, he changed the subject, “You got up early this morning.”

“Yeah, I was thinking, too.”

“…About?”

You shifted forward in your chair, resting your elbows on the desk in front of you and folding your arms together. “I understand that you’re worried about my having a lack of… choice in the matter, when it comes to this. And I can appreciate the sentiment, Kun, and where that concern stems from. But don’t you think, that in unilaterally ending our relationship supposedly for my own good, that also takes away my agency? The thing that you’re so worried about me keeping through all of this?”

Kun’s fork stilled over his food, and he swallowed as he held your gaze steadily. He slowly nodded, the weight of your words clearly resting heavily in the creases of his forehead. “I-I didn’t think of it like that. I’m sorry.”

“Do you trust me to make my own decisions? Even about this? Or do you really just think of me as a mindless, obedient robot?”

“No, I don’t think of you like that. God, Y/N, of course I don’t,” he denied, his voice troubled.

“Then you have to trust me to make decisions about us, too. You can’t just make them for me.”

“I…” He opened and closed his mouth, momentarily at a loss for words. “Can I digest this? Think, before we keep talking?”

“Of course,” you agreed, well aware of the gravity of your questions. Hopefully, your next ask would be lower impact, “Yangyang asked me to stop by the shop after breakfast, I’d like you to come with me, if you can.”

Kun gave you a small smile. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“No, she’s not something for you to experiment on,” Kun rejected Yangyang’s idea as soon as he had started pitching it, his voice biting.

“She’s all we have left of what they were doing,” Yangyang replied, gesturing to you zealously.

The captain stepped in between you and Yangyang, his fists clenched down by his sides. “Exactly. Don’t you think Y/N’s had enough people studying her? You’re not going to put her under your microscope next.”

You looked at your friend from around Kun, shaking your head for him to drop it for now. Yangyang held his hands up and started backing away towards the door of the lab. “I’m going to grab a juice…”

Kun watched him leave, his chest heaving with deep breaths.

“Kun… what’s wrong?” You asked calmly.

“What?” He looked back at you.

“You’re shaking.” You gently picked up one of his trembling hands.

“I’m angry,” he answered shortly. “Why aren’t you?”

“He’s trying to help.”

“Did you see his face? Liu’s just found a new toy. You’re not just some… specimen to be studied.”

“This is his field of study, he’s allowed some interest, I think. And I don’t think that’s all he thinks of me.” You watched as Kun started pacing, running a hand through his hair, visibly agitated. “You’re thinking about your program, aren’t you?”

He sighed bitterly. “We weren’t people to him. Especially not the discards.”

“That makes me angry.” Your blood simmered just hearing him talk about himself like that, so casually, as if it were an objective truth. “You’re not… disposable, Kun. You hold your crew together, and I… treasure you.”

“God…” Kun looked up at the ceiling again, and it was then that you saw tears forming at the corners of his eyes as they reflected the lights above him.

“Yangyang is not Dr. Yoon,” you said firmly.

He stopped his pacing, hung his head, then nodded. “No, he’s not. He’s a good kid.”

“Exactly.”

“Y/N…” He said your name weakly, desperately, looking up from his feet to your face. You saw the tear tracks on his cheeks.

“Yes?”

“It’s true, that you were created by Dr. Yoon. I wasn’t letting myself think about that earlier. But I don’t hate you.” He didn’t falter in his words in the slightest, determined, resolute, his mind made up. “You are probably the only good thing that has come out of that man’s existence.”

“I might’ve done awful things, back at the lab,” you said, warning him.

“Yeah…” He shrugged one shoulder almost sheepishly. “And I work for the head of Intelligence at the UHN, right now. Do you think my hands are clean?”

“I’ve never thought they are.”

“You’ve always been able to just see me. I’m sorry I was refusing to see you before, but I’m looking now, I promise.”

“Can you live with yourself? Not ever knowing… if it’s the First Law?”

“Roboethicists and robopsychologists can talk themselves to death on that, I don’t care. You were right. I wasn’t giving you any sort of autonomy by making a decision like this for you. So…” He inhaled softly, but in the dead quiet of the room, you could hear every rustle of fabric, every breath, every step he took closer to you. Kun held a hand out towards you. “I can’t offer you anything close to a normal life. Or really anything at all. Other than me.”

“That’s all I can give, too. Myself. You can accept that I am in love with you, whatever that means to me, just as I accept that you love me, however that reality presents itself to you. But…” You looked down at his hand, then back up at him. “Do you want whatever a robot’s love is?”

“You are more than enough, Y/N,” he pleaded.

You took his hand. “So are you.”

“All of you, how you were made, what you very well could have done, what you are… You are more than enough,” he repeated like a prayer, pulling you in closer at the same time that he stepped forward and wrapped his other arm around you, as if he hadn’t seen you in several lifetimes, holding you to him with a crushing strength that you hadn’t experienced from him before. You hugged him back as tight as you could, so he knew it was real, that you were real, and that you were here.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your cheek. “I’m sorry—”

“No, Kun,” you hushed him. “We both needed time. It’s okay. Thank you, for trying to do what you thought was best for me.”

“Are you sure about this? What Liu wants to do?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You pulled back from Kun’s embrace to look him in the eye. “I’m the proof. I was built there, and if we want to know what they were doing, we have to study me. I wouldn’t trust anybody more than you guys to do it.”

He cradled your cheek. “You’ll tell us as soon as your head hurts? You cannot push through the failsafe, Y/N.”

“I will, I promise,” you agreed, wiping at the drying tears on his cheeks. “I like my head in one piece.”

He stroked his thumb over your skin gently. “Yeah, me too.”

“Alright, ZEN,” you called out to the AI. “Can you get Yangyang back here?”

“Lieutenant Liu has been loitering outside the entrance for the past two minutes,” ZEN informed you.

“Of course,” Kun sighed, stepping away and turning towards the door. “Liu!”

Yangyang traipsed in, a nondescript juicebox in his hand. “Reporting for duty, Captain.”

“Explain your idea again, please.”

“Right, so, every robot’s positronic brain has a unique imprinting of positronic pathways,” the roboticist started. “New copies of the same model that are fresh off the assembly line might be nearly identical to begin with, but as they’re exposed to new stimuli, learn new things beyond their base impressions, those pathways will diverge and change.”

“So kind of like a fingerprint?” Kun asked.

“If your fingerprint changed after you learned trig for the first time, sure.”

“You want to look at the pathways in my brain closer,” you said. “Will you be able to figure out what I was imprinted with and what has been… divergence?”

“That’ll be a little bit of trial and error,” Yangyang replied regretfully. “I mean, I can assume that you were imprinted with knowledge of Outspacer, and obviously you’ve had to learn who we are… and using your brain’s positronic flows from those, I can start building a functional image of your pathways.”

“How will you access her brain?” Kun questioned. “You’re not going to open her skull, surely.”

“No, no,” the other man shook his head. “Y/N, still got that positronic Allen key on you?”

You reached into your pocket for the tool that Kun had returned to you yesterday. “Had a feeling we might be needing this. Diagnostic stasis or repair stasis?”

“Diagnostic. Sorry. But, I’m hoping you have a secondary active diagnostic stasis. If not, doing a functional positronic pathway image will be pretty much impossible, since you won’t be able to respond to any stimuli.”

Kun narrowed his eyes. “What’s the difference between this and the repair stasis, then?”

“Loss of muscle tone and level of awareness.” Yangyang took the tool from you, then grabbed a nearby notebook and pencil. “An active diagnostic stasis will keep you pretty much frozen in place unless you’re executing an order, Y/N. And you’ll be fully conscious. You ready?”

You sat up on the countertop. “Yeah, ready when you are.”

“Woah, wait,” Kun interjected before the positronic Allen key could be brought anywhere near your head. “What sorts of orders will you be giving her?”

“I won’t be giving any,” Yangyang answered defensively. “Just having her react to stimuli. It’ll look like we’re having an interview, kind of. Or a conversation.”

You gestured to one of the stools that was nearby. “Kun…”

He seemed to get the idea, pulling it up closer to your side and sitting down. Yangyang, meanwhile, rolled his stool in front of you, bringing with him his notebook, pencil, and the Allen key.

“I’ll probably have you help me, Captain, if that’s alright with you,” your friend kept talking as he flipped open to a new page, then leaned in towards you with the Allen key. “I’d love to map what the positronic flow of love looks like.”

This time, he found the spot at the base of your skull with precision, lining up the Allen key deftly. Kun watched the movements of his hand closely as he responded, “Just… having a conversation?”

Their voices faded out as your muscles froze up for a moment, then faded back in, before Yangyang drew his hand away from you and sat back in his stool. You still couldn’t move, but you could listen in on their conversation once again.

“…nothing weird, Liu,” Kun finished whatever warning he had been giving.

“Of course not, Captain,” Yangyang grinned, then turned to you. “Hey, Y/N. So you’re in active diagnostic stasis right now. We’re going to get started. Can you tell me your name?”

“Y/N,” you replied automatically.

“Great.” He sketched something onto his notebook, then grabbed a tablet from the counter. After a few taps, he turned it around to show you the screen. “Can you read this for me?”

It only took you a moment to read the Outspacer glyph. “Grain.”

“Cool.” He swiped, then showed you another. “This one?”

“River.”

“This?”

“Emergency communication.”

He set the tablet aside, grinning as he looked back down at his notebook. “Fantastic.” Then, he asked, “What did you have for breakfast today?”

“Oatmeal.”

“Who sat on your left at breakfast?”

“Corporal Wong Kunhang.”

“And who sat directly across from you?”

“Lieutenant Xiao Dejun.”

“Who did you meet first? Corporal Wong or Lieutenant Xiao?”

You were quiet, unable to formulate your response.

“Y/N?” Yangyang said your name. “Do you understand the question?”

“It’s unclear.”

“That’s okay, I’ll rephrase: Who did you encounter first in your life? Corporal Wong or Lieutenant Xiao? Regardless of if you knew their identity at the time.”

“Corporal Wong.”

“And who personally introduced themselves to you first? Corporal Wong or Lieutenant Xiao?”

“Lieutenant Xiao.”

Yangyang nodded, his pencil never stopping once while you were talking. “Great. What’s my name?”

“Lieutenant Liu Yangyang.”

“And where did you meet us? Myself, Corporal Wong, and Lieutenant Xiao.”

“Aegeum.”

“Who are the other members of our unit?”

“Staff Sergeant Ten Lee, Captain Qian Kun, Professor Dong Sicheng, and ZEN.”

“I’m going to have Captain Qian talk to you for a minute now.” Yangyang rolled out of your view.

Kun scooted into your vision, offering you a soft smile as he met your eyes. “Hey, Y/N…”

“She needs a more direct prompt if you want her to respond verbally, Captain. Either a question or an order,” Yangyang said.

“Shut up, Liu,” he responded through gritted teeth. After taking a deep breath, he addressed you gently, “Uhm, do you remember the story I told you about my parents? What my dad built for my mom?”

“A greenhouse, because your mother wanted to grow strawberries, but the climate on Dura-Jil was too cold.”

“Yeah, and—”

“I read about greenhouses.”

That seemed to catch Kun off-guard. “Wait, really? Why? We have ag bubbles.”

“I wanted to understand what love means to you.”

“Because I said when I think about what love is, I think about him building her a greenhouse.” He nodded in understanding.

“It’s an involved process, requiring a lot of thought and planning. Your father must have had to go to great lengths to get many of the materials for it on Dura-Jil.”

“My dad was an architect. I don’t think I’ve told you that, have I?”

“No.”

“That’s why we were one of the first families on Dura-Jil, he was overseeing the construction of the buildings. He was a civilian contractor with the UHN.” Kun cleared his throat, then said, “Liu has a few more questions for you, okay?”

Then Yangyang was back in front of you. “What other topics have you read about while you’ve been on the Vision?”

Kun brought the positronic Allen key down from your head, his eyes watching your face very carefully. You blinked, readjusting in your spot and rolling out your shoulders. You could recall your entire lengthy conversation with them, thought the memories felt slightly hazy, as if you had been half-asleep the entire time.

“Alright, I’ve—”

“Sorry, would you mind if I stood up while you talked?” You interrupted Yangyang sheepishly. “It feels like I’ve been sitting for a while…”

“Yeah, of course.”

Kun helped you off the counter, his hand hovering over you cautiously as you stood, until he seemed sure that your muscles would support you. Your limbs felt just fine, no aches in them, but you felt the need to move your joints around again.

“So I’ve got your positronic pathways mapped out,” Yangyang announced giddily, gripping his notebook with two hands.

“How could you even measure that though? All we did was talk, you didn’t have anything attached to me, and you couldn’t see my brain,” you asked curiously, grabbing one of your arms to stretch it across your chest.

“You were indicating the positronic flows with your fingers.”

“Wait, really?” You looked down at your hands.

“Yeah, it looked like you were playing the piano on your knees the whole time,” Kun replied, his brow furrowed. “You didn’t feel that?”

“No, I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

Yangyang’s face lit up. “We should totally do this again with a piano under your hands! Hearing the positronic pathways as music? That’d be so cool!”

“Liu, focus,” Kun said sternly.

“Right, anyway. Here it is!” He turned the notebook around for you to see what he had been sketching.

You couldn’t tell what you were looking at. It definitely didn’t look like a human brain, or even what the components on the x-ray had looked like. If anything, it looked like some combination of abstract art and quantum physics. Intersecting curved lines, straight lines, circles, the occasional indication of a charge or other scientific symbol, some numbers. It was fascinating to look at, and sort of beautiful in a strange way, but you definitely wouldn’t be able to identify it as a brain, much less your brain, without being told that.

“…What was the point of this?” Kun asked frankly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It looks very complex,” you added. “What does it tell you? And what will you be able to do with it?”

“Well, first of all, the degree complexity is interesting. You see these more condensed areas?” He gestured to a few areas on the page where the drawing was more congested with information than others. “We call those nodules. Some robots’ impressions will only have two nodules: The Three Laws, and then whatever their pre-programmed job is. Those are basic robots, meant to do one thing. You have a lot, as well as sub-nodules, but I also watched you gain a sub-nodule in real time as we were mapping.”

“What sub-nodule?”

“When you were talking to the captain, he gave you new information about himself, about his dad, his family,” Yangyang rambled on with enthusiasm. “What a thrill… Anyway, you’re very dynamic.”

“Uh, thank you?”

He laughed. “You’re welcome. But also, that means something when it comes to positronic brain construction. You’re able to construct new nodules and sub-nodules on your own, as well as modify or combine existing ones when presented with new information. Pretty advanced stuff. You obviously weren’t designed to be a one-trick pony. You don’t have the most nodules I’ve ever seen in a positronic brain, but you had all your non-impressed knowledge wiped, to be fair. By my estimate, you’ll surpass that other brain in… a couple weeks maybe?”

“How old was the other brain? With… more nodules?” You asked curiously, hoping you were using the jargon correctly.

“Several years old.” He beamed. “And, I was able to confirm that you were ordered to wipe everything that wasn’t impressed. You see, when data is wiped from a robot, the data itself can be entirely erased. However, it’s like leveling a house. The house may no longer be there, but the foundation is still in the ground. The positronic pathways from when the robot did have that data still exist, sort of.”

“You can see the pathways from the data that I wasn’t impressed with, but you can’t tell what that data was?”

He nodded. “The pathways are there, but since they haven’t been used, they’re degraded.”

“We have no clue what the house looked like just because we can see the foundation,” Kun sighed.

“Exactly.”

“This degradation,” the captain continued. “Is it bad? For her?”

“No.” Yangyang quickly shook his head. “They weren’t for any sort of sort of critical functions, as those would’ve been in her factory impressions, and they won’t spread to any other pathways that are currently being used.”

“Good.”

“Did this tell you anything about Aegeum?” You questioned nervously.

The roboticist tapped the eraser end of his pencil to his paper. “This is one of the most advanced positronic brains I’ve seen, and I’d love do another mapping in the future, if you’d let me.”

“Why does it sound like you’re hedging, Liu?” Kun cut in.

“But… I can only learn so much under the current circumstances.”

“You’re not opening her skull up.”

“That’s not what I was going to say!” He defended himself. “I meant… she’s not a robot. I can’t study her like one. I’m not even 100% what parts of her are flesh and blood and which aren’t, other than the positronic brain.”

“Do you think we should call Dejun here too?” You suggested.

Kun hesitated. “Why?”

“Well, we know I have a positronic brain, but the field scanner and the infirmary scanner thought I was plenty human enough when he tested me. And, I obviously bleed, sleep, and eat too.”

“She’s right. We thought we were on the trail of… something else down on Aegeum. Getting a doctor’s second opinion on the fleshy parts couldn’t hurt,” Yangyang offered his support.

Kun approached you, holding your gaze seriously. “Are you sure about this? The more people know…”

“I trust Dejun,” you affirmed. “I trust all of you.”

“Go get him, Liu,” Kun directed. ZEN had been put on a blackout again for the actual mapping, meaning that he couldn’t just ask the AI to page him.

“On it!”

“You’re fucking with me,” Dejun deadpanned.

“Nope.” Yangyang shook his head, feet kicked up on one of his workbenches, having just explained why he’d dragged the doctor to the robotics lab.

“Y/N doesn’t get Earth humor, fine. But how did you get the captain to go along with this weird as fuck joke, Liu?” Dejun pointed to where you and Kun were standing off to the side.

“It’s not a prank!”

“She bleeds!”

“I know.”

“And breathes! And sleeps! And eats! And has vitals that can be picked up by diagnostic scanners!”

“Those only look for the presence of an illness or disease, right? Or abnormal heartrate or breathing?” Yangyang pointed out.

“Yeah…”

“So, an absence of certain things wouldn’t register. She’s got a heart and lungs, as best I can guess.” He continued, “Positronic brain confirmed. Everything else… we’re a bit less certain about.”

Your friend looked over at you, squinting in clear confusion, then back to Yangyang. “I… Huh?”

“Need a consult, Doc,” Yangyang grinned.

You sat down again for Dejun to start his exam. He brought over a few things from the infirmary, one of which was an ordinary stethoscope. He put the earpieces in his ears, then held the other end up to your chest. Everyone was silent as he listened.

“Yeah, okay, heartbeat. It’s… normal. Normal resting heartrate,” he murmured. “I’m going to listen to your breathing now.” He moved it to another place on your chest and paused again. After a moment, he switched it to his other hand and gently touched the back of your shoulder. “Forward.”

You leaned forward for him to reposition the stethoscope, and at the same time out of the corner of your eye, you could see Kun tense up and unfold his arms.

“Xiao,” Yangyang said urgently.

“What?” Dejun paused, sounding annoyed to have been interrupted.

“The Three Laws. Careful with your requests,” the roboticist reminded him.

“Don’t order her around,” Kun said more bluntly.

Dejun blinked and looked down at you, clearly startled out of his usual routine for an exam like this. “Oh. Right, sorry. Forgot you were… Sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s fine, Dejun,” you reassured him. “I didn’t… It didn’t process like an order.”

“I need to listen to your breath sounds. Can you take a few deep breaths for me?” He requested, looking between Kun, you, and Yangyang hesitantly, as if to see if he had said that correctly. When you felt him place the stethoscope on your back, you breathed in then out, deeply, as he had asked. After a few breaths, he said, “Okay, and normal breathing now?”

You evened out your breathing again, and he listened for a few moments, then drew back. Dejun took the earpieces out and hung the stethoscope around his neck, putting his hands on his hips.

“Well?” You prompted him.

“Those were definitely lung sounds. And I mean, you’ve already breathed into my field scanner, so I don’t know if it would’ve made more or less sense for you to not have them,” he declared. Next, he tested all your reflexes, then contraction and dilation of your pupils. “You have a heart, lungs, a circulatory system of some kind, and immune system, since you haven’t been bleeding uncontrollably from that cut you got. I’ve personally seen you eat, drink, sneeze, cough, and at least a dozen other normal, involuntary human reflexes.”

“Oh, about the cut…” You grabbed the end of your bandages, quickly unwinding them and taking off the pristine gauze that was underneath. Turning your hand, you displayed your unmarred palm.

Dejun took your arm to look at it closer, then looked at your other one as if to double-check that he was looking at the correct one. He held it up closer to one of Yangyang’s table lamps, running his fingertip over where the cut should have been.

“No scar?” He pushed on it with his thumb in disbelief. “Pain? Tightness? Muscle or tissue damage?”

“No, nothing. It’s been like this since the day after I cut it. I don’t know exactly how fast it healed, but it was less than a day.”

“Seriously?”

“I saw it when I went to change her first bandage. It was like nothing ever happened,” Kun confirmed.

“That’s…” Dejun trailed off and sighed. “Again, I don’t know if that makes more or less sense than her healing at a normal speed.”

“My turn,” Yangyang stood up, walking over to the x-ray machine that had started this whole thing. “Since the captain made me destroy the last image I took—Y/N, you mind?”

“Oh, sure.” You followed him.

“This is why you took my portable head x-ray machine?” Dejun asked incredulously as Yangyang got you situated, then went back over to his computer. “I thought you were just being a weirdo and wanted x-rays of your own head!”

“Xiao…” Kun’s voice held an air of warning. “Next time Liu is ‘being a weirdo’ like that, let me know.”

The process was as quick and painless as before, and you all gathered around Yangyang’s screen as the images processed and loaded up. Despite knowing what it looked like, somehow, you were still as baffled as before. Like there was still some part of you expecting a human brain. You didn’t know if it was the old order conflicting with your personal knowledge, or if you just couldn’t believe that that was your brain that you were looking at.

“Holy shit,” Dejun breathed out.

“Positronic brain,” Yangyang declared, as if it weren’t apparent enough to the doctor that he wasn’t looking at a human brain.

“Alright, I believe you now.”

Kun cleared his throat. “Liu—”

“Yep, deleting right now,” Yangyang quickly erased all the films he had just taken.

“Who knows?” Dejun asked you.

“Just the people in this room,” you informed him. “Even ZEN’s knowledge is somewhat limited, he’s on blackout right now.”

Dejun’s eyes strayed over to the captain.

“I’ve suspended us in slipspace and haven’t reported a word of this to Admiral Lee,” Kun answered his unspoken question, clearly bristling at the implication. “Nor do I intend to. Our story stays the same: We found a human survivor on Aegeum with amnesia.”

“I’d like to take some samples, if that’s alright.” Dejun’s focused back on you. “Blood, cheek swab, nothing invasive.”

“Sure,” you agreed.

Dejun took the cheek swab first, then prepared your arm to take the blood sample. Unlike the field scanner, which just needed a pinprick from your finger to get a quick rundown of your vitals, he apparently needed a bit more for the tests he wanted to run this time.

“Y/N, what you were saying earlier, about not processing Dejun telling you to sit forward like an order, what do you mean by that?” Yangyang asked as Dejun wrapped a band around your upper arm.

“I mean, I guess I knew that it was a request and not an order? Like, it didn’t shut me down like the order you gave me. I did what he asked, but there was no reason for me not to, you know?” You explained, trying your best to articulate the difference between the two experiences.

Yangyang tilted his head, his eyes once again glittering with that studious fascination. “How did you know it wasn’t an order?”

“I mean, his tone of voice, and the context? He was giving me directions for the exam, but it wasn’t really an order, right?”

“Oh my God…”

“What? She’s right. I wouldn’t have forced her to lean forward if she said no for some reason. I definitely didn’t think I was ordering her around,” Dejun scoffed, preparing the needle and collection tube. “Y/N, small pinch.”

You felt when the needle pierced your skin, but your focus was still on Yangyang, who was now pacing the room and gesturing furtively.

“Well, early robots did everything that any human told them to do, usually very literally. No room for sarcasm, no nuance. All orders were of the same level of importance. Then, they started being able to prioritize based on who gave an order, as they were given capabilities to create hierarchies of people in relation to themselves—only for the Second Law.” He then pointed to you. “But Y/N is the first I’ve heard of not only deciphering tone and context, but also then using that to determine if she was actually given an order or not.”

“So… what we do? Understanding social cues?” Kun arched an eyebrow, seeming unimpressed.

“That almost sounds like she doesn’t have a Second Law. Or at least not a very effective one, if she can think her way around it,” Dejun added skeptically. Having finished, he held a cotton ball to the site as he untied the band around your arm. “Here, I’ll get you a band-aid.”

“I don’t think you need to,” you reminded him quietly.

Dejun tentatively lifted up the cotton swab, and sure enough, there wasn’t any indication that you had just had a needle in your arm. No bruising, no blood, no small pinprick hole to be found. He silently nodded, turning away and bringing his materials with him.

Yangyang continued with his explanation, “Okay, think of it like this. We’re given a command, and based on tone, context, word choice, and other social cues, come to the conclusion that it’s an order. Despite knowing it’s an order, we can still choose not to obey it. Y/N, on the other hand, once she determines that she’s been given an order, she has to follow through. Like she said before, the Second Law shuts down her other systems until she’s executed it.”

“I’m not sitting there thinking it through like that… but yes, I think so,” you agreed.

“It all happens in less than a millisecond, like it does for us.”

Kun rubbed his face thoughtfully. “So she still has a Second Law, but what other robots might interpret as an order, and would therefore trigger their Second Law, Y/N might not interpret as an order, and wouldn’t have her Second Law triggered?”

“Exactly. Makes for much more natural interactions, especially if you want to treat the not-quite-robot you’ve made uh, not like a robot.”

“So, you guys think Y/N was… made there? On Aegeum?” Dejun asked, wincing over the word ‘made.’

“That’s the… working hypothesis,” Yangyang answered tentatively.

“So, she’s the proof of concept, then? Of the robot-people?”

You touched your forehead instinctively as a dull, familiar pain started up in your head again.

“Y/N?” Kun rested a hand on your back. “Your head?”

“Yeah…”

“We’re done,” he declared forcefully. No room for arguing.

Dejun looked between Kun ushering you to your feet, and Yangyang, who was watching the two of you somberly, with bewilderment and concern. “What’s—”

“I’ll explain in a minute, Xiao,” Yangyang said quietly. “Let the captain get Y/N out of here first.”

In your cabin, Kun sat you down on the single bed. He cupped your cheek to lift your gaze to him as he stood in front of you, eyes tracking over your face. “How’s your head?”

“Better,” you assured him, placing your hand over his. “You can’t be mad at Dejun, he didn’t know.”

“No, but I can be worried, and afraid of your head… of the fact that you have a self-destruct button that we can’t disarm.”

“I’m okay, Kun.”

“This time,” he added bitterly. “I get why you hate what I’ve been doing, with my enhancements degrading. The way I was acting. Why you called me a pathetic idiot. I don’t like seeing you like this either, especially when it doesn’t have to be happening.”

“You should tell the others, about me,” you said. “What I am, orders, the failsafe, everything.”

Kun sat down next to you. “Are you sure?”

“We didn’t know enough before. It would’ve been too much, for everyone. But we know enough to be able to tell them something, and to tell them what we don’t know. And you need to tell them everything. So nobody accidentally triggers the failsafe or gives me an order. Or asks why we aren’t at Earth in a week.”

He nodded with a resigned agreement. “And I have to tell them…”

“So you can speak candidly and they can ask whatever questions they need to. Without worrying about my head.”

“That’s not fair to you,” he stated.

You reached over to take his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “But it’s what will keep my head in one piece, isn’t it?”

Kun looked at the time on the wall clock above your cabin door. “There’s still a few hours before mess… Can I do it then?”

“Sure,” you chuckled. “Can I make a request in return?”

“Of course.”

“Will you sing for me?”

He looked at you with genuine shock. “Excuse me?”

“When you and Yangyang were talking about the piano earlier, I realized… I’ve never heard music.”

“God damn it… Hold on.” Kun moved around until he was sitting up against the headboard, then gestured for you to come closer. “Come here.”

“What?”

“I’m not going to do this with you looking at me. So—” He once again motioned for you.

Reclined back against him, your head against his chest and his arms around your waist, you definitely could not see his face from this angle. You were looking out at the desk and the dresser, in fact.

You half-expected him to try to dissuade you again, as he cleared his throat from behind you. But instead, the next thing you heard was the quiet, uncertain beginnings of a hum. He slowly added more words to the tune, every so often dropping back into a hum. His voice never rose above a quiet murmur right beside your ear, a performance just for you. It was a simple melody, only a few notes, and repeated over the few verses. But you found yourself enthralled the whole time, never wanting it to end.

His soft singing faded out, and he cleared his throat again, signaling the end of the song.

“Can you sing it again? Please?” You didn’t dare look back, not wanting to startle him from fulfilling your request, but you grabbed his hands tightly, hoping to pass along your enthusiasm through your touch.

“Really? It was just a nursery rhyme my mom used to sing. I don’t think I’m even a very good singer…”

“I liked it.”

“Alright,” he sighed, a tinge of fondness in the word as he leaned forward to press a featherlight kiss to your cheek.

So far, this wasn’t as big of a shitstorm as Kun had been expecting, really. The crew who didn’t already know were understandably shocked, but ultimately, let the other three finish briefing them with minimal interruptions or questions.

“So Y/N’s a…” The Professor trailed off, looking to Liu to fill in.

“Humanoid,” the roboticist offered tentatively. “So far the only robotic part we’ve found is her brain.”

“You say that like she has a prosthetic pinky toe,” Ten retorted. “It’s her brain.”

“Ten, come on, dude. It’s Y/N,” Wong scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“I’m not saying we deactivate her or throw her in a cell or anything. I’m just trying to make sure we all understand the gravity of the situation.” The pilot sat forward in his chair. “She’s clearly the proof of concept that they were trying to preserve by doing a partial scrub. The question is what use is to she to them like this? No offense to her, Captain, I’m not calling her an idiot, I’m saying they erased her memories and convinced her she was a normal human. Whatever she was doing for them before the partial scrub, she doesn’t know how to do it now.”

“Maybe she has some component to whatever they were doing there that’s vital enough to risk her being discovered,” the Professor suggested.

“Right, Liu said they could have backed up her data externally. Maybe they were planning on this being temporary. They knew they were about to be found out for whatever they were doing, and had to get out, but couldn’t bring Y/N for whatever reason. So they make an external back-up of all her sensitive data with the intent of putting it back in later and, you know, picking back up where they left off. But they wipe it off her memory banks so if she’s found in the meantime, whoever finds her has nothing.”

Kun interjected here, “I’m telling you, Y/N didn’t—”

“You think they just kept one of the most advanced robots—sorry, humanoid—Liu has ever seen around a top-secret, illegal, unsanctioned lab for conversation?” Ten retorted, then seemed to catch himself, and added as an afterthought, “…Sir.”

“Captain, we all like Y/N…” Liu assured him.

“She’s one of us, just like ZEN,” Xiao jumped in to defend you as well.

“But that doesn’t mean we can ignore the fact that she was definitely involved in whatever was going on in that place. Somehow,” Ten argued.

“We don’t know how. Or if,” Kun reiterated forcefully.

The Professor quickly tried to smooth over the rising tensions in the room, “You’re right.”

“I mean, I just think it’s crazy that they took her memories from her—her entire life—and you guys are assuming that there’s going to be proof she did all this awful shit in there!” Kun was on his feet now, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stay in his seat another moment, not when a righteous anger was electrifying every inch of his being now.

“And you’re assuming that it’s going to be the opposite.” Ten remained seated, but no less impassioned then before.

“No, I’m saying we don’t know! So we can’t just treat her like a criminal because we’re assuming she’s going to be one!”

“Nobody’s doing that,” Wong tried to placate the captain now. He repeated, “She’s one of us, Captain.”

“She’s not here. We’re talking about her without her. That doesn’t seem like she’s one of us,” Xiao stated bitterly.

“Right, so you want her head to rip itself apart from the inside?” Liu reminded him.

“I would have preferred to be able to have Y/N here as well, but we needed the ability to discuss this openly without risking her safety,” Kun said regretfully.

“I hate this,” the doctor announced.

The captain sighed. “So do I, Xiao.”

“Uh, I feel like we’re all forgetting something here?” Wong spoke up hesitantly.

“What?” Kun asked shortly.

“Y/N’s a robot… kind of. The First Law? She can’t hurt a human.”

“She could’ve not known what they were doing,” Ten immediately proposed.

“Then that blows a hole in your whole theory that she was crucial!” The captain retaliated.

“There’s been loopholes found in the First Law before. Robots who were convinced some kinds of people weren’t humans. Robots who were convinced that hurting individual humans for the greater good of humanity was okay. And then of course, we have robot surgeons,” ZEN gave his own incredibly helpful input at that moment.

“Did I ask for a fucking encyclopedia article?” Kun snapped at the AI.

The Professor waved his hands to get everybody’s attention, declaring, “This conversation is getting us nowhere.”

Kun stood up straighter and rolled out his neck, taking a deep breath to recenter himself. This was not the level-headed leader he wanted to be for his first crew. “The Professor’s right. This isn’t productive. I wanted to debrief you all now since we know more, and also for Y/N’s safety.”

“Yeah, what was Liu talking about her head ripping itself apart from inside?” Wong asked, clearly concerned.

“The failsafe, that we had mentioned earlier,” Liu took over explaining this part. “Specifically, the mechanism is in her head, and the best that we’ve been able to figure out, it’s to prevent anybody who may have found her in her amnesiac state from finding out too much about the experiments they were doing, while also having her, uhm, intact.”

“She gets headaches, usually around stuff having to do with the people-robots on Aegeum. That’s the failsafe. If you’re talking to Y/N, or within earshot of Y/N, and her head starts hurting even a little bit, shut the fuck up. Talk about anything else,” Kun instructed, deadly serious.

“So it’s like a game of hot or cold of if we’re on the right track?” Ten tilted his head curiously.

“A game that we’re not fucking playing,” Xiao smacked his teammate’s arm. “Because winning means Y/N’s head exploding.”

“Why do you people assume the worst of me? Fuck…” he grumbled, rubbing his bicep. “I was going to suggest that we could try to reconstruct what was being talked about when Y/N got her previous headaches. Not give her new ones.”

“ZEN, look through your archives,” Kun instructed. “Next: Orders. Do not give her a direct order.”

“Y/N’s really good at distinguishing what’s an order, or direction, or suggestion, or question,” Liu clarified. “But so far, it seems like the word ‘order’ triggers her Second Law.”

“So like, what can we say to her? Like, if I’m fixing the coffee maker—” Wong got interrupted by incredulous sounds from the others. “—and she’s closer to the wrench, can I ask her to hand me it?”

“Yes, you can say ‘Can you hand me the wrench?’” Kun affirmed. “Just don’t be demanding, and don’t use the word ‘order.’ Third: No flying knives.” He was practically boring holes into Wong with his eyes.

“I haven’t done any knife tricks since that happened!” Wong defended himself.

“That goes for everyone. No doing stupid shit that could get you hurt around her. I don’t care if you’re willing to risk slicing your finger off because you’re spinning a knife around, unless you’re also willing to risk slicing Y/N’s finger off, don’t do it.”

“First Law. She will intervene,” Liu added, in case they had somehow forgotten about your positronic brain the past ten seconds.

“Uh, Captain…?” The Professor tentatively raised his hand. “We’re on a pretty dangerous mission. Does this mean you've changed your mind about keeping Y/N aboard?”

Kun’s brows were furrowed as he evaluated the options in front of him, none of which seemed like good ones. “Leaving her somewhere else in order to keep her safe in regards to the Second Law would require briefing whoever she went with about what she is, which would put her in an entirely different kind of danger.”

“So she’s staying?”

“I wish there was a better option, but yes.” The captain watched the uncertain glances that his crew were exchanging. “I’m not asking that this affect the way you do your job. However, outside of the mission, when you’re around Y/N, don’t be doing stupid shit you don’t need to be doing. She’s not made of metal. If it’ll hurt you, it’ll hurt her.”

There were murmurs of agreement and head nods, and Kun let out the breath he’d been holding unwillingly.

“Any questions?”

After everyone else filtered out to go to mess, Kun remained on the bridge, sitting in his seat at the head of the table. He held his head in his hands as a hologram of a green cube materialized in front of him. The captain didn’t even react, continuing to stare through the transparent projection.

“I think that went well, Captain,” ZEN declared. Kun couldn’t tell if the AI was taking pity on him.

“If the crew can survive this, I think we can survive anything,” Kun stated, not sounding very optimistic about the chances. Shaking himself out of his despondent spiral, he asked, “Where’s Y/N? At mess?”

“I let her know the meeting was over and she thought it best to wait for you, Captain. She’s in your cabin.”

“Thanks, ZEN. I’ll go see her.”

Mess wasn’t as awkward as you had been expecting. Sure, the crew had some questions, especially when you took your first bite of food, but they were all pretty tame, and seemed to come from genuine curiosity, not suspicion.

“What else needs to be done before the slipdrive can be reactivated, Captain?” Ten asked between bites of food.

“Xiao, how long will your tests take?” Kun turned to the doctor.

“Should all be done by tomorrow,” Dejun answered.

“Liu, anything else pertinent that we need to take care of before arriving on Earth?”

The roboticist let out a puff of air as he looked up at the ceiling, thinking. After a moment, he brought his eyes back down and shook his head. “Nah, all clear here.”

“Pending the results of the tests that Xiao is running, we’ll be turning the slipdrive back to propulsion soon.”

That got them excited again, one step closer to shore leave, the crisis of the evening almost completely pushed from the crew’s mind. Almost.

“Hey, Y/N,” Kunhang got your attention, mischievous grin on his face. “Xiao said something about how you’ve got super-healing. You up for a drinking contest on Earth?”

“You’ve watched way too many old superhero movies, Wong,” Dejun scoffed. “You think she’s going to have a superhuman metabolism and not be affected by alcohol, right?”

Ten, meanwhile, was laughing. “She’s probably never had a drink! She’s going to be a lightweight!”

And of course that set them all (including the Professor and Yangyang) off into a debate about, theoretically, based off what they did know about your physiology, whether or not you’d process alcohol like an average human or not. You looked over to Kun with amusement, and found his eyes already on you. Quirking an eyebrow up at him inquisitively, you didn’t receive a verbal reply, but instead he reached over to briefly squeeze your arm before dropping his hand back down to his lap.

“What’s Earth like?” You asked Kun as you prepared his injections that night.

“Tired of hearing about Dura-Jil?” He teased, settling in on his front.

“That isn’t the only place you’ve lived,” you pointed out. “And we’re on our way to Earth. I’m curious.”

“I didn’t go to Earth when I was 15. I went there after.”

He didn’t say it, but you knew where he had been in between Dura-Jil and Earth. The program.

“When you enrolled in the Academy?” You disinfected the injection area.

“Yeah. Couldn’t believe how blue that sky was…”

You aligned his first injection. “Is it a similar color the sky in the ag bubble?”

“Sometimes.”

Click.

“But Earth has weather, and clouds,” Kun continued, humor in his voice. “Central, the city that UHN Main is located in, it’s got all four seasons. I think we’ll be coming back in late summer. I kind of wish you could see snow. It’s got a big military population, Central, obviously, but the city’s so huge that if you can get a few blocks away from the UHN Main building itself, you can kind of forget that. As long as you don’t see a solder in uniform.”

As you listened to Kun gradually and sporadically paint you a picture of Earth, you could feel the soft, persistent smile on your lips, even as you had to switch out his med-pod, which didn’t make him falter or stutter. He was telling you about a restaurant within walking distance of UHN Main that he used to frequent when he was on Earth between missions when the second med-pod clicked again, signaling it had finished. You disposed of the materials and sat back down next to him, up by the pillow he was resting his upper half on.

To your pleasant surprise, he didn’t immediately roll over or sit up this time, simply looking at you over his arm. You ran a hand over his hair, dropping it down to rest it on his shoulderblade.

“I can’t wait for you to get your adjustments,” you sighed. “How long is the procedure?”

“An hour or so,” he informed you. “I’ll have Xiao wait with you.”

“Dejun should be able to enjoy his shore leave with the rest of the crew.”

“I’m sure he’ll want to wait with you anyway. It’s what friends are for.”

You stretched a finger out to trace his cheek with your fingertip. “Does it hurt?”

“No, I feel fine,” he promised. “Still doing good on two med-pods.”

“I meant the adjustment.”

“Oh, I’m under anesthesia for it. Don’t feel a thing.”

“And after?”

“A little stiff for a day or so, but after that, good as new.”

Before you could respond, there was a rapid-fire series of knocks on your cabin door, and you exchanged a bewildered, concerned look with Kun. You stood up as Kun slowly began shifting himself into a sitting position.

Dejun was on the other side, and you didn’t hide your confusion as you looked him up and down in his pajamas as he stood in the hall. “Uhm, hi?”

“Can I come in?” He requested quietly, his brow furrowed deeply, a look of worry cut deeply into his features.

“Sure.” You stepped back, opening the door further for him to enter.

“This couldn’t have waited until morning, Xiao?” Kun asked flatly, clearly disgruntled at the nighttime disturbance.

“I’m not Wong, I take no joy in this.” He gestured wildly to his surroundings and the three of you. “But no, this felt rather urgent.”

The captain sighed, “Go on…”

“The tests I was running. A few of them came back. I also ran another test on the sample from the lab on Aegeum.”

“I thought you already did all the testing you could with that sample. It was human, right? The other results were largely inconclusive.”

“Yeah, yeah. But I realized I could run another test, actually.” Your friend was clearly agitated about whatever it was, fidgeting, unable to stand in one place.

“And?” You prompted him.

He met your gaze, face clearly filled with regret and a deep want to not be saying this to you. “It’s a partial DNA match for you.”

“Partial? Like she’s related to it somehow?” Kun questioned.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a familial connection… I sequenced the genes and they’re almost identical.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, the differences in these genes wouldn’t come about from the natural shuffling of genes that happens during reproduction, or even familial variations. It looks… more precise.”

“Genetic modification?” You guessed.

“More like genetic design.”

“So Y/N and the sample you found…” Kun trailed off, and you weren’t sure if he didn’t know how to finish his own sentence, or didn’t want to.

“Same base DNA, different modifications,” Dejun did it for him anyway.

“Clones?” You could feel your eyebrow shoot up.

Dejun rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “If you want to be crude.”

“And what’s the not crude way to say that, Xiao?” Kun snipped.

“I’m just saying, we don’t call identical twins clones…” The doctor replied levelly. After a beat of you and Kun still wrapping your minds around the information, Dejun cleared his throat and added, “The sample was all undifferentiated cells—stem cells—it wasn’t… developed like you are, Y/N. Uhm, for what’s that worth.”

“Oh, okay…” You said just to say something, grabbing your upper arms and holding yourself tightly.

“Anything else, Xiao?” Kun asked tersely, already getting to his feet.

“Nope, nope, I’ll show myself out,” Dejun scrambled for the door. “Sorry, goodnight, and uhm, sorry again.”

You heard the door close behind you. Looking up at the ceiling, you could feel the tears gathering in your eyes before you even knew why they were there. They easily eked out the corners of your eyes and slipped down your cheeks.

“What are we going to do, Kun…?” You whispered, your voice coming out as a nearly unrecognizable squeak.

“ZEN, set the slipdrive to propulsion.” Kun’s stern command made you turn your head towards him in confusion. But his brow was set with determination, just like it had been when he’d suspended it in the first place.

“Are you sure, Captain?” ZEN questioned an order from Kun for the first time that you’d ever heard.

“Yes. Then go on blackout.” After a beat, the cabin was quiet, save for your shaking breaths, and the sound of Kun’s feet as he padded over to you. He wiped his thumbs over the wetness on your face, holding your gaze steadily as he answered your question, “We’ll be arriving on Earth in two weeks. The crew will go on shore leave. I’ll give my full report to Admiral Lee about Aegeum, the human survivor we found there with amnesia, and Dr. Yoon being alive. I’ll get my tune-ups. If we have time, I’ll take you to a concert to see some real music, live. And then we’ll go where the Admiral sends us.”

Keep going. Don’t pick the scab.

You gulped. “What if he sends us to find Dr. Yoon?”

You weren’t sure if you ever wanted to see the man who made you, whose experiments, in one way or another, got all those people killed on Aegeum, who did what he did to Kun…

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” His voice stayed steady.

“You said Admiral Lee has never lied to you. Why are you willing to lie to him, for me?”

“I already told you. All I can offer is me. You’re the first person who I got to choose to give that to.” Kun smiled bittersweetly with his words, still cradling the side of your face, giving him the perfect view for when your tears rose back up. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“I was just thinking about your program again. And Aegeum…” You admitted, bringing your own hand to your damp undereyes. “Do you still think you’re… not human?”

“I’m certainly an experiment that they didn’t plan on living this long. But I did, which let me meet you. So whatever I am, I’m lucky.”

“Then we’re two experiments, created for something, and choosing each other instead.”

Kun chuckled softly. “You know, I actually think I like that a lot better than cyborg or humanoid or clone or whatever else.”

“Me too.” You wrapped your arms around his waist to hold him closer. “I love you, Kun.”

“I love you, too,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead.

⇢ series masterlist | blog masterlist

#kun x reader #wayv x reader #nct x reader #kun imagine #wayv imagine #nct imagine #kun #qian kun #wayv #nct #i: kun #f: frankenstein complex #fc: 4 #writing #text #mine #bias tag #kunkun

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fictionalcharactergraveyard · 5 months

Note

The gang + Shepards x traditional goth reader whom everyone thinks is a witch, and there are rumors about her

Ponyboy

low-key thinks about you a lot

at first it’s pure curiosity

then it turns into daydreaming

and when he hears you’re a witch

he’s like “…that’s hot.”

“what?”

“NOTHING.”

ofc you 2 get paired up for a project

You guys like some of the same books

And stargazing

And Pepsi

After Darry and Sodapop find out about his crush they tease him and low key set you two up for a date

it’s so fun

You guys see a horror movie

And when you get jumpy you cling to him

And he does the same to you

And then you two share kisses

All is fine until he gets home and finds out he has black lipstick marks all over his face

And gets “use protection” talk from Sodapop while Darry tries not to laugh (Soda doesn’t wanna become an uncle yet guys)

Johnny

he’s in the lot and sees you walking

He low key panic until you say hi

And he’s obsessed with your voice

You 2 end up talking a bit and you joke about how people think you’re a witch

He says “I believe it.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, how else can someone be so beautiful?”

You fs paint his nails

And play with his hair

You each end up scaring each others bullies off

You love kissing his scars

Dally

Hits on you

And when you get mad he just laughs

“Whatcha gonna do? Curse me?”

“I might.”

Then you walk away

He plays it cool

But he’s low-key like

“Wtf did they do-“

You two run into each other again at a party

Buck threw and and your friends with his cousin

He sees you and starts to flirt

You flirt back bc why not

“Damn Dally, you going for the wicked witch now huh?” One of the guys there says

Man almost got punched

You found it hot

Darry

You found him very hot

Daddy issues/j

Yet you didn’t want to flirt

He fs has a partner

Or so you thought

Man is STARING

Loves how you look

You catch him staring and he tries to recover

Tries

You “accidentally” bump into him

And nearly fall in the process

He grabs your waist and holds you

Omg he’s stronggg

You act start stammer and are like: “jfc he thinks I’m so stupid-“

And then he just asks you out

Right then and there

And you say yes

🤭

Sodapop

You go to the DX

And get some snacks

Sodapop is like “huh, there’s that witch chick”

And then when you check out and smile

It’s over

He needs you NOW

He needed you yesterday

He gives you free things

“I can pay-“

“No need. I don’t need to be jinxed now, do I?”

You giggle

Man has a goofy smile

Yaps abt you sm oml

Y’all are cute FR

Two-Bit

Says sm jokes

Like omg

“Hey! Heading back to the cemetery?”

“You got any voodoo dolls on ya?”

“Did you drug me with a love potion, or am I just falling too fast?”

You try not the laugh but you do

When you 2 kiss man is COVERED in black kiss marks

And doesn’t wash it

“TwoBit clean it -“

“But how am I supposed to show Im under your spell?”

You make a joke or two and he DIES

Y’all are so sweet oml

Steve

You 2 meet in October

“Ain’t it a little early for Halloween costumes?”

“Ain’t it a little early to wear Frankenstein masks?”

After a brief starting contest you 2 laugh and you get your slushie in peace

You go to a Halloween party and see him

He’s not really dressed up

Youre a sexy vampire COUGH

You decide to join in ‘spin the bottle”

And you land on Steve

You guys kiss

And again

Then you decide “fuck it” and head to his car to make out

Tim

Man’s cat calling

It’s an art to him at this point (thanks to dally)

You tell him to shove it

And he starts walking beside you

“Ain’t your eyes supposed to glow when you’re mad?”

You just stare at him

Then you kick him in the nuts and run

He gets mad respect for you after that

Turns out you guys like the same songs

You guys do (very bad) karaoke

It’s fun

Curly

Met in detention

You punched a chick

He jumped a soc

You guys started talking

And got on like a house on FIRE

It’s scary oml

You two make out a lot

Pony wants to die

Y’all PDA

When he’s in reform you visit and send letters

He tries to write letters back

And make them as nice as yours

He can’t tho

Angela

puppy crush FR

She thinks your so cool

And pretty

And when you ask her out she’s like

“I’m in heaven”

After a threatening “conversation “ with Curly and Tim they’re fine with you hanging out

You 2 do each others make up

And go shopping together

And scream to music

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #dallas winston #johnny cade #two bit mathews #sodapop curtis #darry curtis #tim shepard #curly shepard #angela shepard #fictionalcharactergraveyard.writing.answers

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kinktae · 6 months

Note

Will you continue too tempting or should i delete tumblr (I’m still only here FOR YOU)

I ACTUALLY SCREAMED OUT LOUD PLS TELL ME UR KIDDING AND IM NOT THE ONLY REASON UR STILL HRE 😭😭😭

I have no intentions on leaving that project unfinished!!! But I cannot say when I will finish it 😞 my priority rn is graduating this year and then I will allow myself to post on tumblr :D I honestly still write I just keep it in Google docs so trust when I do come back back, I’m flooding y’all with fics 🫶🏼

#ask #anon ur hilarious

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we-are-inevitable · 1 year

Note

from the burdened prompt list: “i know it’s selfish. but i wish someone would just take care of me.”

davey struggling, having to work longer hours bc his family needs more money this month and jack finds him and davey accidentally lets this hidden “selfish” desire slip out

respectfully y’all are SO jacphobic if you don’t leave a comment on ao3 for this one (im joking (a little))

i hope you guys like this one !!

————

For the Jacobs boys, nights at the lodging house are a rare treat.

They always start the same. One of the boys at the lodge would tell Les about a game they were playing, or an event that everyone was chipping in on. A birthday, most often; birthdays at the lodge were apparently a big deal, since it was the one joy some of these kids might have. The boys who could afford to would offer up a few pennies to buy something nice. A dime novel, maybe, for the boys who liked to read, but usually the gift would be as much candy as a few quarters could buy.

Les, ever the social butterfly, loves being a part of these nights, and always tells their parents at the dinner table. Esther usually allows him to donate a penny or two, especially if this birthday was for one of the littles or a boy around his age. It wasn’t always like this, of course; the first time Les asked to stay the night, it took a long discussion before Esther and Mayer agreed, and they only agreed if David would stay, too. It was a little easier to convince them the second time, and again for the third, and fourth, and fifth, and now the boys don’t even have to ask: if they have a free night with no work at home to be done, they can go, but only if Esther and Mayer know ahead of time.

Once Mayer is cleared to go back to work, though, nights like those are few and far between.

As promised, as soon as their father finds a new job that will be easier on his health, Les and David are back in the classroom, learning literature and arithmetic as though their summer hadn’t been taken over by the strike. David had considered it a miracle, and Les had dreaded it since the start, but school was in session and David finally had structure back in his life.

That was what was missing, right? Structure. A clear plan. No roadblocks, no mishaps— a guidebook to the rest of his life, one he had made up when he was far too young to worry about such things. To David, school is structure. School leads to college, and college leads to a career, and a career means that David can provide for his parents, and his eventual family, and he will never have to worry about not doing enough or not being good enough because he will be enough and things will work out in his favor.

School is structure, and structure is uninterrupted, until it is.

When Esther pulls David aside one morning before he’s supposed to walk to school, David feels his stomach drop. “David,” she starts, her voice ever soft, calm, “Dear, your father and I have been thinking.”

“About?”

“Your schooling. We know how important education is to you, but, darling… You’re a smart young man, so I’m going to be honest with you. With your father’s new job, we’re still struggling to make ends meet. It doesn’t pay as much as his old job, and—“

“Do you need me to stop going to school? So I can work?”

“Oh, dear, we would never ask that of you,” She assures him, gently cupping his cheeks. “You have a brilliant mind, son. You are going to do amazing things one day, I’m sure… I want you to understand that we- your father and I- hate asking this, but,” She pauses, and David can see her frown pinch like she’s in pain, like asking this is hurting her. David hates seeing this expression on his mother. She closes her eyes for a moment, then meets his gaze with a sad smile. “Would it be possible for you to go to school, then sell the evening edition? Just until we can get back on our feet?”

Against his better judgement, David says yes without even thinking it over.

His family needs him. He can manage this. He’ll still be in school, and he’ll be making money, and it doesn’t matter that he already comes home from school dead on his feet because he’s so tired, because this time he’s helping his family and doing something for himself to make something of himself, and isn’t that the point of all of this?

Besides, it works.

It works for three weeks, at least. For three weeks, Does it, no problem. He goes to school and rushes through work so there’s less to do at home, and he’s still getting good marks on most of his assignments. Once school is done, he walks Les to the halfway point between the tenement house and the lodging house, tells him to take his bookbag and put it next to the door, and to give Ima and Aba a big hug for him. He watches Les walk for about a minute or so, just to make sure he’s okay, and when Les rounds the corner of the block, David takes off like a shot to get to the lodge in time.

That’s his every-day for three weeks. He doesn’t make much money only selling one edition, but he’s helping- he can see that he is. His parents aren’t as stressed anymore, and he’s still getting an education and holding down a job, and surely that means something, even if he comes home from work late and misses dinner with his family often and rarely ever talks anymore because he heads right to bed after eating.

Three weeks, and Esther finally sits him down one Friday morning before school.

“David,” she says softly. “Why don’t you stay at the lodge tonight?”

David it’s his head, brows pinching together. “You’re sure?”

Esther nods, and squeezes his hand, something she’s done since he was a child. “I don’t want you having to worry about walking home so late, darling. Besides, you don’t have any school tomorrow, and you haven’t stayed over in a long time— I insist, really. Have some fun with your friends.”

“…Okay,” David says after a moment, nodding. “Okay, I can do that. I won’t have to get up so early for the morning paper tomorrow.”

“Skip it,” Esther say, and runs a hand through David’s hair. “Take a weekend off, baby. Please?”

“But—“

“But nothing,” She interrupts. She has that look on her face: a mother’s look of concern, one that says she knows he’s overworking himself, but it’s not like he can just stop now. “You’ve been such a big help, dear, but you’re still a kid. Have fun, and be with your friends. Don’t worry about work.”

And David knows she’s right. She almost took it back, saying that David could work and go to school, after the first week— David was the one who said that he was fine, that he’d keep it up until winter and see where they were financially. If they were well off, he would stop working after the winter holidays. If not, he would continue. Mayer had said it was a good idea. Good work ethic, his boy; that’s what Mayer brags about to coworkers, and that’s the praise that David keeps square in his chest. Good work ethic.

Good work ethic.

That being said, David is appreciative of being given the weekend to be a teenager again. Everyone has been asking when he’s going to stay over again, and he hasn’t had an answer for them, but now he’ll be able to have a good night again.

The evening headline is a good one, too. Something about some bigshot in Brooklyn being killed. David knows that Spot Conlon and her girls are going to have a field day with this one, that’s for sure, but David is just happy that it was a big enough of a deal to make Manhattan’s news too. The papes sell fast, and David gets to the lodge even faster. Walking through the doors, he’s immediately met with the familiar chaos, and it brings a smile to his face.

“Dave!”

The voice comes from his left, and before he’s able to turn, he’s wrapped in a hug by Racetrack. It only lasts a few seconds, but David laughs and rolls his eyes as Race shoves him almost immediately after.

“Where’ve you been?” Race says with a grin, raising a brow. “You ain’t been here in ages.”

“I just spoke to you an hour ago,” David reminds him. He had seen Race walking back to the lodging house while he was selling. From the looks of it, Race had been walking back from Brooklyn, so odds are that he had been selling across the bridge all day. “I’ve been busy with school, but I’m stayin’ here over the weekend.”

Race nods his head, that signature mischievous smirk reappearing on his face. “Ya don’t say,” He says, teasingly. “Y’know, Dave, Jack’s been throwin’ fits without you bein’ around here so often. You should go talk to him. Does he know you’re stayin’?”

“Not yet,” David replies, shaking his head. “Is he okay? Have I missed something?”

“Oh, no, he’s fine,” Race says quickly. He pulls his cigar out of his shirt pocket, then the lighter from his pants pocket; he offers them up to David, but David shakes his head again and Race nods to himself. “He’s just been missin’ you, I think. He ain’t ever gonna admit it, but…” He trails off, giving David a knowing look, and, yeah, okay.

Okay, maybe Jack and David have a thing going on. There’s nothing really there, not yet, but the chemistry is undeniable; David had at first assumed he was making it all up— he’s never really understood this romance thing— but then Race pointed it out one day, and since then, David has gone to him for every burning Jack Kelly issue his mind could think up. How he wants to kiss him, but he’s never kissed anyone, but Jack has kissed a lot of people so what if David isn’t anything special? Or how it’s unfair that Jack can look so good in nice, tailored clothes, since he has that big job at the World now, you know, so he has to look nice and it kind of drives David mad, and how—…

And how David hasn’t really been here in weeks. And how David has only been selling, then heading home immediately after selling his last paper. And how he can’t remember the last time he had a good conversation with Jack, who should probably hate him by now.

David takes a deep breath. “Where is he?”

Not even five minutes later, his hands land on the last rung of the ladder to the rooftop, and Jack Kelly is there in all his glory: laying on his back, basking in the August sun. Once David has both feet solidly on the roof, he sees Jack’s eyebrow quirk up, though his eyes never open. “Crutch? You good?”

David clears his throat. “Uh— Yeah, but I’m not Crutchie.”

Instantly, Jack sits up, eyes flying open. His look is nothing short of delighted, and he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet. “Davey! What’re you doin’ here?”

An oddly chipper reaction, considering they haven’t actually talked in a while. Back over the summer, David and Jack were fast friends, and even faster… whatever they are now. They sold together nearly every day, played cards between editions, sat next to each other during every meal, talked for hours and hours on end without ever tiring. They were a package deal.

“I’m staying the night,” David says with a nervous smile, pushing down the thought of this is ruined and he hates me. “It’s been a while, so I figured I could come back for a bit, if that’s okay? I have enough to pay for a bunk, I just—“

“You’re kiddin’ me, right?” Jack asks, walking closer. “Dave, this might be one of the last nights we get on the rooftop ‘fore it gets too cold. You’re stayin’ up here, with me,” He says, and that smile— god, that smile— shines full force. “C’mon, sit down. How’s school been?”

David follows Jack’s lead, eventually sitting next to him on a pile of blankets near the outward corner of the roof. “It’s been alright,” David answers, leaning back and bracing himself on his palms. “I’m still no better in math, but grammar is kind of fun. My teacher thinks I’m ahead, though, whatever that means.”

“That’s good, though, right?” Jack nudges David gently with his elbow. “Means you can take it easy.”

“I guess,” David nods, and lets out a soft sigh. Taking the easy road, it’s never been David’s strong suit. He supposes Jack is right; he can take it a little easier in school and not push himself so hard, that way he can pace himself while selling. Maybe he wouldn’t be as tired then, but… “I don’t think so, though. I’d rather just get school over with so I can focus on working.”

Jack is quiet for a moment. David stares straight ahead, resting along the ledge behind him, until he feels Jack’s hand on his shoulder. “Dave,” He stares, tilting his head. “What’s goin’ on? I thought you loved school.”

“I mean, I do,” David says quickly, though he doesn’t meet Jack’s eyes. “I want to continue my education so I can be a- a doctor, or a business man, or something, but right now… My family needs me right now. If I go faster with school, then I can help them, and—“

“Is that really fair to you, though?”

The question stops David in his tracks. Is it? Not really, no, but then again, what is? If life was fair, his father wouldn’t have gotten hurt. If life was fair, his father wouldn’t even have been working in that damned place anyway, and instead he’d be rich and successful like he had always been working towards. If life as fair, David would be able to focus on school, and wouldn’t be mocked and ridiculed all day for working a job. David knows he’s better off than the rest of the newsies, but at school, it doesn’t feel like it. Most of David’s friends don’t even have to work a job. They get new shoes every year, too, instead of waiting until the old pair gets too small or falls apart. If they rip their clothing, they can mend it and make it look seamless, not patchy, or they just buy new clothing all together. David doesn’t have that luxury. Life isn’t that fair.

He takes a deep breath, then says: “No. It’s not.”

Jack nods. The silence between them is uncomfortable, but only until Jack gently slings his strong arm around David’s waist, pulling him closer. David sinks into his touch, letting himself relax, letting himself lose the rigid tension running along his spine.

“I wish I could help,” Jack says softly, and shifts, allowing David to lie back with his head against Jack’s chest. “But, hey… soon, you’ll be outta school, and you ain’t gonna have to worry about that anymore. Right?”

“Until I decide to go to university,” David amends, “but at this point, I don’t- I don’t know if I can afford to go. My teacher is telling me I should, but it’s going to cost $150… I don’t have that kind of money. None of us do. And- And maybe I could save it up, but not when all of my money is putting food on the table— I can’t just… focus on myself right now. I have a family to feed.”

Jack rubs circles against David’s hip with his thumb, and sighs. “You deserve the chance to focus on you, Davey…”

What breaks David’s heart is that he knows. He knows he does. But it’s not in the cards, not now. David stays silent for a long while, and Jack does too; they listen to the sounds of the city bustling beneath them, the boys’ laughter filtering out from an open window, music playing in the distance.

Neither of them say a word, until David sniffs, and wipes his eyes. “I- I know it’s selfish,” He starts, his voice barely above a whisper, “but I… I wish someone would just take care of me. I know that’s not- it doesn’t work like that. I know. I’m supposed to take care of everyone else, but it’s so fu-fucking hard to just… push myself to the side.” As he speaks, his voice catches, and the next thing he knows, he’s wrapped in both of Jack’s arms. Jack’s hand rubs his back, and David finally allows himself to let go. Not a sudden outburst, no; this is a gradual accumulation of tears until David’s shoulders shake, but he’s silent, because outbursts are unappealing and sadness should be polite.

Still, David finds Jack’s voice grounding him.

“I know, I know… Let it all out, Dave, you don’t gotta be strong right now. I’ve got you, I’ll take care of you… You’re safe to let it out.” And how Jack always knows exactly what to say, David will never know.

David will never know how Jack knows just how to hold him, just how to run his hands through his hair and just barely tug on the strands to reign him in. He’ll never know how Jack knows to kiss his temple, his forehead, his cheeks, all while squeezing his hand or wiping away his tears. He’ll never know how Jack knows that humming calms him down, whether it’s his mother’s Hebrew lullabies or the melody of one of Medda’s songs from the last show she put on.

What David does know, though, is that he’s safe, and he doesn’t have to shoulder the weight of the world. Not around Jack.

When David calms down, he’s still resting against Jack’s chest, letting out a few heaving sighs. “Thank you,” he whispers, tilting his head up to look Jack in the eyes. “I— I didn’t mean to cry, but… thank you.”

“You don’t gotta hide from me, Davey,” Jack murmurs back, tucking a strand of David’s hair behind his ears. “You don’t gotta explain yourself, either… When you’re here, my job is to take care of you, okay?”

“Jack, no—“

“I’m serious,” Jack cuts him off, raising a brow. “You got so much on your plate, and you know that. Right? … So let me help, wherever I can. I want to.”

David takes this in for a moment, before sighing softly and nodding. “Okay. I… I appreciate it.”

Jack smiles gently down at him. For a moment, they stare into each other’s eyes, and as soon as Jack cups David’s cheek, it’s all over. David leans up and Jack closes the gap, and the kiss is short, but sweet, and good, and right.

The weight of the world isn’t so heavy after that.

#this is very long sorry #newsies #davey jacobs #david jacobs #jack kelly #livesies #newsies musical #newsies live #newsies 1992 #west endsies #ask a jac !#jac writes #javid #javey #javey newsies #javid newsies #newsies fic

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