#and i just have to think there was no way they gave up their unethical blood collection

[muzzleroars]

you know now im thinking of a lot of implications. why do the new peace era machines still run on blood? is it because after 200 years of war, the most advanced technology humanity has is so firmly rooted in persistent violence? how does v2 get its fuel, how do the streetcleaners get theirs, how do the terminals, even, if we choose to believe they are also blood-powered machinery? are there blood donations by people willing to give? or is it taken by force like their earliest predecessors? is it all so deeply entrenched in a culture of violent conflict that humanity couldnt even begin to find alternatives?

YEA YEA REAL......i really love how much information we got about the war in this update, and its implications really are. insane. I KNOW IT'S ALL BEEN TALKED ABOUT BUT. i'd have to think humanity truly is just too deep into this technology to change it, particularly with how fast they seemed to have needed to force the new peace. like i keep thinking about this massive timeline that has consumed humanity for generations...how it was 200 years. v1's final firmware update was in 2112, the guttermen fought in trenches, and the earthmovers, massive beings with an incomprehensible amount of technological advance, were its end. that's mindbending when you try to conceptualize just what a people would be like by the end of it. i know this takes place in an alternative timeline, but this war has been humanity. it began in TRENCHES and ended in machines capable of leveling a city in a single blow, machines the blotted out the sun with their rampant destruction. i've thought about this idea with the new peace for a long time, but it's becoming more and more likely that this peace is built on blood just the same. it's 200 years. it's all the technology they have. and their world is dependent on machines (i'm almost beginning to think their industrial revolution, if there is an equivalent here, was robot-based), they can know no other way forward. unfortunately for them, it was tech all based in centuries of war and so it must carry forward. the new peace was a veneer imo large-scale atrocities ended because they had to, because people could live only on the earthmovers, and they were dying. but blood was still needed, just like when the guttermen were made, and i'm increasingly sure it was harvested just as unethically. anyone that proved any kind of "threat" to the peace could be used in this capacity with little push back- civilians this embattled, desperate for security yet now inherently bloodthirsty (hah), would be easily against those deemed malcontents. so the machines go on, powered as they always were...i just have to wonder what finally did them all in

#i am SO happy to learn more about the war!!!! #i adore the lore violence dropped the earthmovers mean the world to me..... #and i just have to think there was no way they gave up their unethical blood collection #like really would they even....consider it wrong at this point #their morals and values would be so twisted maybe keeping the machines going was reason enough #after all they have peace! that's good! how they get it doesn't matter any more #it's not even a thought because violence is that ubiquitous #cake answers #ultrakill spoilers #uk spoilers #ultrakill violence spoilers

[mncxbe]

ANNE DONT MIND ME PLS you write so good and reading these drabbles made me want to request one of my own !!

imagine professor!dazai giving u an extra lesson after class 🤭 it's 12 from the list btw <3

CHIYO MY DEAR♡ i'm so happy you requested this one. hope you like it. I made Dazai a literature professor👀♡

12 — Professor!char giving you an extra lesson after class

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: lowkey unethical, sex toys, semi-public space, creampie

"Keep reading, bella, you're halfway there."

Your professor's voice carried a hint of mockery as he soothed your thigh with a hand, pushing the silicone toy deeper inside you. You winced at the sensation, shooting Dazai a desperate glance over your shoulder.

Osamu Dazai was the new literature professor at your college– some prodigy kid who finished his PHD by the age of 25 and whose novels sold like hot cakes and now everyone was singing him praise. Frankly, you weren't too impressed by his accomplishments, but he was the only professor in the whole faculty who actually encouraged you to write something different, out of the norm; so you did anything to stay on his good side.

Even if it meant helping him around the office and fucking him from time to time. Not that you'd complain, Dazai was incredibly good looking and knew how to please a woman.

So naturally, when your professor asked you to come to his office after class you expected a quick fuck, as usual.

But the smug bastard had you bent over his desk with your panties lowered mid-thigh and a vibrator shoved up your pussy, making you read the assignments your colleagues turned in while he made snide comments on the side.

"Was that supposed to be a metaphor? 'The mist of the summer evening' what's that supposed to mean? God, I swear these texts are getting worse and worse..."

"Ngh– 'samu please" you whined, shifting your hips "Can't we just do this later?" The ache between your legs was almost unbearable, you needed him inside you, not that stupid toy.

"Sorry, bella, I have to grade this paper by 6. The kid's coming to discuss it" he mused, watching your walls clench around the toy with keen eyes. God, your pussy was divine– his pants were tightening just by looking at you.

Reaching a hand towards you, Dazai touched your folds, gathering your slick and smearing it all over the inner part of your thighs. "My, my, you're dripping, dear. Better hurry up and finish reading if you want me to fuck you properly" His deft digits found your bundle of nerves and gave it teasing flicks.

Your mind was starting to get foggy, the sentences melting into a jumble of letters as you struggled to read the last paragraph out loud. It was painfully embarrassing, the way your body jolted up as he drew slow circles on your clit with his thumb, how desperate you were to have him inside you. All the while, Dazai was toying with you, playing with your pussy like it was his favourite toy.

The second you were done with your paper you let it fall on the desk next to you. "Done, I'm done." you huffed out, looking over your shoulder to see Dazai's teasing smile.

"Good job, bella. I think it's worth at least 60 points. I mean, it's a progress from the last assignment he turned in. What do you think?"

I think you should stop messing around and fuck me already– you wanted to say back but all that came out of your mouth was a breathy yes, sir. i'd say so too.

The man got up from his chair and slowly ran a hand through your hair. You could hear him unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper of his suit pants, your hips swaying in anticipation. "You're such a pretty girl" he hummed, removing the toy from your pussy with a wet pop and alligning himself at your entrance "And obedient too. I think you deserve a reward ah shiit—"

A broken whine slipped from his lips as he slammed himself inside you, the grip he had on your hips growing fiercer. Fuck, your cunt was basically sucking him in. You were so damn perfect he swore he could spend all day fucking you and it wouldn't be enough.

Your moans filled the tiny office, the smell of your arousal lingering in the air, fueling the man's need. His hips snapped against yours, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. "Y-you're so tight bella think 'm gonna– fuck i'm gonna cum soon"

"Me too me too 'samu" you mewled as the tight knot in the pit of your stomach snapped and you came around his cock, soaking it in your juices.

It wasn't a surprise you came so fast, he'd been edging you for hours and you were so sensitive. Even now as your walls pulsed around him, Dazai's fingers found your puffy clit and your body jolted up. "W-wait 'samu you can't I just–"

"Want you to cum again with me, donna. Can you do that for me?" he huffed out and your pussy fluttered at the sound of his breathy, whiny moans, pressure building up in your core again.

When the two of you reached your high again, his hips halted flush against yours, his milky cum shooting deep inside you. The man's breath was ragged and he hissed when he slightly pulled out, watching the sticky substance form a ring at the base of his cock as it dribbled out of your hole.

Something sparked inside him at that moment and he quickly flipped you over, caging you between his arms as he leaned over your frame. Droplets of sweat clung to the tips of his hair as he pressed his forehead against yours "Can we do it again?"

"But Dazai we just–" you wanted to protest but he cut you off with a deep thrust, making you choke out a moan.

"Don't care bella you don't understand what you do to me I can't get enough of you" he sighed, slowly, almost lovingly, rocking his hips against yours, his lips ghosting over your cheeks, jaw and down the expanse of your neck, making you shudder. You'd lie if you said that his confession didn't stir something inside you too.

Before you could answer, a knock on the door snapped both of you out of the intimate moment you were sharing. "Um... professor? You said I could come by at 6 so we can discuss my paper"

𐙚prompts closed

#𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑ #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd smut #dazai bsd #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai smut #bungou stray dogs dazai

[corazondebeskar-reads]

of rage and ruin - chapter one

of rage and ruin series

chapter one

series masterlist | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 3.1k

summary: Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He turns into a much different kind of monster than he expected, though.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, torture, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, gore, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), death, murder of innocent people, typical raider/hunter behavior, mention of cordyceps, angst, no y/n, reader is able-bodied and afab with no specific descriptions, viewer discretion is advised

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

This is a werewolf omegaverse fic that uses traditional and non-traditional elements of the genres. It largely ignores TLOU canon.

DISCLAIMER: A plotline of this story involves unethical medical care and human experimentation re: vaccines. It may give anti-vax vibes. This is NOT an anti-vax story and I do not want any related discourse please and thank you. This is about FEDRA being the absolute worst, not about the real world in any way.

In a rare moment of lucidity, he thinks he used to be human, once. 

He’s partially transformed more often than not. Almost never fully, unless he’s under the sway of the moon. His real keeper. 

These raiders may think they own him, but he knows the truth. 

But lucidity is rare, and most of the time, Joel Miller is more beast than man. 

Most of the time, he doesn’t even know he’s Joel Miller.

No matter what, though, he’s a nearly uncontrollable force of nature. 

That’s why they keep a shock collar around his neck and tasers at their waists. That’s why they never turn their backs or leave him unrestrained. He fought like hell for a long time until he broke. 

No shame in it, he knows. Everyone breaks eventually. 

As the years have gone on, though, he’s been getting restless and snippy, less cooperative. And the pain doesn’t really matter anymore. 

Nothin’ really does when you’ve given up.

On the last new moon, when the wolf was quiet and the man was loud, he’d tried to refuse. He sat, buck-ass naked, on the gritty wood floor of the house they were raiding. 

He did not sniff out treasure like some fucking metal detector. He did not tear the humans limb from limb. He did not feast. 

He paid for that night and had the receipts to prove it, laid into his back from the silver-tipped whip. 

He should have tried harder to die at the start. 

He hadn’t understood right away, when they took him. It, frankly, didn’t even cross his mind that they’d know. Laura, the woman in the woods, had been so sure it was secret. 

He got it when they shot him in the leg with a BB gun, though, and the silver shrapnel burned. They were prepared. Silver-coated chains and cuffs, silver-tipped batons and whips and knives. Cattle prods and electric collars. 

They’d been hunting him. 

They tried to break him easy, first. They were looking for a wolf; didn’t know they’d find Joel Miller. They left him chained in an abandoned suburb, giving him just the minimum food and water to keep him alive. 

It worked to weaken him, but they didn’t want him weak forever. Not a very good guard dog or weapon if he can’t lift his head. So when that didn’t work, when he didn’t beg and plead or bend the knee, they gave up and bulked him back up slowly. 

So they tried pain next. 

He came to know the healing as a curse. They avoided the silver, at least at first, since it’d leave damage. But when they found out they could break his bones over and over and over?

That’s when he started to wish he was dead. What was the point, anyway? He couldn’t go back to Boston. Couldn’t risk himself around Tommy and Tess. 

Couldn’t kill himself if he tried, but they could, with their arsenal. 

Didn’t matter what he wanted in the end; his brain wouldn’t give in. It overrode his silent pleas, and it fought and fought and fought.

So they took him on a raid. Starving, chained under the full moon, and they waited. He couldn’t go far, but he didn’t have to. 

They brought the food to him.

“You’ve no control over it, huh?” Cheryl said after, leering into his “room.” They send her to play nice, but he knows she’s the worst of them all. They just think he’ll smell pussy and roll over. “We didn’t need you to kill them. You just need to scare them and help us find what we’re lookin’ for.”

They had him. He knows, he knows, he knows. He’d have done anything to stop it from happening again. From devouring tied-up families who dared to say “no” to Jim and his crew. From throwing up blood and bones and bows. 

He can’t kill himself. They won’t kill him. He had no choice. 

He broke.

This new moon, they don’t take him out to scavenge. No, instead, they drag him outside and spray him down with the hose. This, in itself, is not unusual. But when they force the muzzle over his snapping teeth to scrub at his skin with precious lye soap and a rag, he starts to get concerned. 

His suspicions are confirmed when they take him back inside. 

The only time he’s left unbound is here, in his room. Well. It meets the vague requirements for a room, but it’s also reinforced with silver-plated steel and concrete. Cheaply so, but enough to mute his senses and hopes. 

Usually, they wait until the grate is shut to unclip the lead. They wait until he kneels and offers his hands to unlock the shackles. When he’s been good, of course. 

But not today. Today, they chain him tight to the wall at the far end of the room. 

They’ve had this theory that he hates to admit is not without merit. Looking for another way to control him, they’ve tried to find him an omega. 

The first few times, they just forced him on them out wherever they’ve raided. Usually, he’s too out of control, and they don’t survive the encounter. 

The most recent time, they dumped one in his cell. But the poor thing still smelled of his alpha, having only lost them hours earlier. 

Joel didn’t react well. 

They’re trying something new, now. 

That he’s here while they clean his room is deliberate. He knows this. They’re purging all his scent from it, and they want him to watch, want him unsettled.

He growls when they remove his mattress completely. It’s a pathetically small, thin, hole-ridden thing, but it’s his. 

Before they drag in a new one, a flat pack of grated metal is tossed in the corner. Two of his captors go to work on assembling the contraption, and another leaves for a while, only to return with a sawed-off portion of his mattress. 

It fits neatly inside the cage. For that’s what they’ve constructed. It’s silver-coated, of course, but pathetically weak otherwise. If he truly desired, he could snap the bars as easily as bone. 

He’s not keen on having burnt hands, though. 

Just inside the front of the cage, they clip up a bit of cloth. He doesn’t need to be told what it is, knowing immediately after it’s extracted from the airtight glass Tupperware. 

They tell him anyway. “Got a new toy for you to try, if you’re good. For now, this is all you get.”

The heady scent of omega soaked into the panties permeates his room. 

He’s salivating a little by the time they finally release him, but he waits until the heavy footfalls echo from down the hall to give in. 

They smell divine. He can’t resist tasting, lapping at the tiniest hint of musk and omega under his elongated tongue. 

“Told ya he would have shredded her,” Jim says to Cheryl when they come in the morning with his breakfast. Joel’s in his mind enough to feel a little shame, back of his neck burning, when they see the tattered fabric. 

It’s clear they anticipated it because, along with his tray, he’s given a new pair. 

They’re not so appealing this time. The sweet scent is cut by acidic fear like vinegar through molasses. He ignores them in favor of his meal. 

He eats better here than he ever did out there. He’s worth more rations to the raiders than to FEDRA. Robust meals full of meat and eggs and potatoes. 

They need him strong, after all. 

It’s not until a few hours later that he’s drawn back in by the underwear. It’s not so acrid anymore. Or maybe it is, and he’s just in the mood. Either way, he buries his face in them while he strokes his cock and uses them to catch his cum when he finishes. 

There. That’s better. The mix of him with… whoever you are. 

When they bring him lunch, they make him put the panties on his old tray before pushing it out to them. He doesn’t burn with shame this time; no, he almost feels proud. Like a peacock fluffing out its feathers. They know now. They must. 

Whoever you are, you’re his. 

The next day, they bring back the same pair. He wolfs out a little at the fresh layer of you over his cum. It’s all fear and tears and disgust, but it doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter at all, not to him, not to the wolf. 

All that matters is how his head fills with static when he licks across the gusset and howls. 

Cheryl’s looking pretty smug on the other side of the door, but for all that she’s pleased with the results; they still threaten to turn on the collar if he doesn’t eat quickly.  

He’s nearly fully wolf, gobbling down the food and returning to his treasure. He snarls as he strokes his cock, the head angry and purple as he tugs. He doesn’t spill onto the panties this time, not wanting to cover up the perfect combination of your scents. In the end, they’re shredded anyway, as his fingers stretch and break into claws. 

In his full glory, his senses are even sharper. Sharp enough that he can hear a faint sobbing across the building and Cheryl’s sharp laughter. 

“I don’t know,” she’s drawling when he tunes in. “He sounds pretty excited to meet you.”

The soft sobbing turns raw and cracked. He can smell the salt and phlegm, can practically taste it in the air. He’s aware of Cheryl, but nothing is louder than the way your heart is tripping over itself.

When Cheryl’s words sink in, when he realizes he might actually get to have whatever delicious creature they’ve gotten him, he howls again, a long, aching sound that creeps down your bones like frost.

Later, when he’s a little more present, he realizes they didn’t shock him either time he howled. It’s usually a guarantee. 

Whatever game they’re playing, it doesn’t bode well for you.

Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He wasn’t even worried when it happened. They’d been heading back to the QZ, him and Tommy and Tess, when a wild dog attacked them. 

Or, well. A wolf. 

Tommy had gotten a bullet in its head, but it had Joel’s arm in its jaw at the time. Its teeth had rent through his jacket like a spoon in a banana split. 

FEDRA would shoot him without a second thought, so they doubled back to the little cabin and hunkered down. Figured they’d lay low long enough for it to be hideable before sneaking back in. 

Tommy went out at daybreak for the carcass—it’d be leagues better than what they had in their bags. When he came back, he was faint and empty-handed. 

“...don’t make any sense,” he kept muttering, pacing the tiny kitchenette. 

Joel and Tess exchanged a glance. 

“Probably a bear took it,” she suggested.

Tommy ran his hand through his hair, shook his head, and did it again. When he looked up at them, it was through wild, unpredictable eyes. “Wasn’t a wolf. It was a man.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Joel said.

“C’mon.”

They followed him through the thicket, and sure as shit, in the same place the wolf’s corpse had lain was a man with a bullet through his skull. He was completely nude. 

“Gotta be a coincidence,” Joel muttered.

Tommy turned to him, eyes wide and hands shaking. “What kind of fucking coincidence is this?” 

There was a rustle, and they all turned, guns raised, as a woman peeked from behind a tree. 

She put her hands up and waited. Tess jerked her head to one side, and they lowered but did not stow their weapons. 

The woman was in a ratty cotton dress with no shoes; autumn leaves crunching underfoot. 

“That’s, um. That’s my husband,” she said softly. 

“Apologies, ma’am,” Tommy said, his face soft and sad. “But—I think he attacked us.”

Her green eyes grew wide, pupils dilating and breath catching in her chest. “Did you get bit?” 

Tommy and Tess instinctually looked at Joel. 

“What’s it to ya?” he said.

“Did you get bit?” she repeated.

“Was he Infected?”

“Not with cordyceps, no,” she says. She avoids looking at the body but flinches when she brushes a foot against a blood-soaked leaf. 

“What does that mean?” Tommy said. 

“I think it’s best we go someplace and talk.”

Against better judgment, they follow her through the words to her home. She claims to have two kids alone there, four years and six months. 

It turns out to be true. She gets them both down for a nap and serves hot stew. They try to refuse, but she insists. 

Tommy feels a little sick eating the food of a man he killed. They all listen, rapt, as she begins to speak.

“It happened a year ago. But it wasn’t an accident.”

When the full moon is two days away, Joel is nearing the furthest from himself. Same shit, different month, but his reactions to your scent are getting, well, feral. 

They’re bringing him strips of cloth, now. He gets a new one with each meal. He doesn’t destroy them anymore. Oh, no. When he’s clearer, he wishes he did. 

But no. He smells and licks and then jerks off with them. If only that were the worst of it. He’ll come to be mortified during the waning, but he starts to add them to the cage. It’s fairly saturated with the smell of him from his old mattress, but it pleases the beast within to line it with the sweet mixture soaked into the torn sheets. 

You’ll understand, then, the wolf thinks. You’ll know it’s safe for you. Somewhere he’s made, a den all your own where he can keep you. 

But you won’t know, because what you know is very little. 

When FEDRA started asking for volunteers to test vaccines, you didn’t hesitate. You knew the risks. And the rewards—room and rations for the length of the observation period, anywhere up to a year in length. You knew there would be a catch—probably many, but given that you rarely had a room or rations, it wasn’t a hard choice.

But this was the end of the world, and “informed consent” was not something that survived the outbreak. 

They worked in batches. A truckload of live bodies at a time. Sterilizing showers with the barest trace of privacy, dressed in stiff starchy scrubs, and led into little cubicles where nurses with needles sat in wait. 

A quick jab to the upper arm, and then you were off. The hospital was an old correctional facility, but again, for someone who hadn’t had a bed on a reliable basis, you felt only relief. 

Until the deaths started.

They didn’t even try to hide it. Within 24 hours of arrival, a fourth of your group was gone. Carted out in black bags marked with β and nothing more said. You watched through your window like everyone else. 

Someone came around the next day and drew blood from every remaining subject, and the tagging began after that. You could see the symbols on other’s doors, but not your own. α or Ω. What they meant, you couldn’t begin to guess. 

It started not long after. 

The changes.

At first it was so subtle, you may not have noticed, but a nurse came by each day to ask you a series of increasingly embarrassing questions. 

What do you smell? What do I smell like? What does your sweat smell like? How sensitive are your breasts? Describe your vaginal discharge. How aroused are you on a scale of 1-10? 

They began weekly tests. Blood draws once a week and daily urine samples, of course, but also hearing and vision. They made you run on a treadmill hooked up to wires. 

And then, one day, after six months of intensive observation, they moved you.

Or. They tried to.

You were exhibiting a specific set of side effects, they said. You were to be transferred to another facility for subjects with the same side effects for further observation. 

Raiders took out the truck halfway through the ten-hour journey. It was… it was a bloodbath, actually. For the FEDRA officers, anyway. 

When they had you all lined up, grippy socks soaking in the ankle-deep mud, well, that was when you all learned which symbol was on your door. They couldn’t keep the word out of their mouths. Omega. 

Not that it fucking explained anything.

One by one, a short blonde with a bob went down the line of you and shoved something up to each omega’s face. That’s it. It seemed to have no greater purpose.

But for some reason, when she pressed the cloth against your nose and mouth, she smiled. And they separated you.

Whatever that was had a deep, oaky musk, like the illicit brewery operating out of the warehouse you often slept in before the trials. 

They tell you nothing.

They make you sleep on strips of cloth, so you roll around in the pile as you toss and turn, rubbing your sweat and slick and pheromones all over. 

They don’t bring you anything of his, but you catch faint whiffs of him (him, always him, they never call him by a name), of those aged, liquor-soaked barrels, but all it does is make you nauseous. You don’t understand how you know it’s him; you still don’t understand any of it. 

You learn very quickly not to ask questions. 

They take him out on the night the moon is full and bloated, hanging over him like a searchlight. See, it whispers, I can find you anywhere. Anywhere. It doesn’t matter. If it didn’t, the wolf would find it anyway. 

He is not himself.

He is his truest self.

He is two or one; neither yet both. A monster movie mashup of fur and teeth and roughshod science experiments conducted by a doctor who wasn’t a doctor at all. He’s the monster’s victim. He’s the monsters’ monster. 

He’s the wolf and the wolf is him. 

He’s The Wolf and he’s swallowed Joel down. 

He’s the man, the weak link, buried so deep he can’t see the light of his celestial mistress 

He’s Joel Miller. Sometimes, sometimes. 

Tonight, he is gone. There is only the Wolf. 

And the Wolf knows. As soon as they cross the threshold, he knows. 

Dawn is rising, the hunt is over, but he’ll be the wolf for a while longer. And he knows that fuckin’ smell. 

It’s the saccharine sour mix of you. Heavy on your sweet apple undertones, and oh, he knows. 

You’re in the cage.

next chapter

*title from "Bad Moon Rising" by Creedence Clearwater Revival.

😬 I've been working on this baby for a long, long time, so I will be drinking your likes and comments desperately. thank you for reading and i love you.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #alpha!joel miller x omega!reader #alpha!joel miller #werewolf joel miller #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #dark fic #dead dove fic #a/b/o verse #fic: of rage and ruin #a/b/o au

[villainousauthor]

Part one

The Villain's brow pinches together as they overlook the data they've managed to acquire so far. Nothing made sense, they've run every test they could think of to try and discover what it was that gave the Hero their regenerative abilities, to no avail.

They almost feel bad about the poking and prodding they've had to do, one blood draw after another, tissue sampling, and more. At the very least, Hero has stopped fighting them as much these past few weeks, making their work easier.

Villain turns back to where Hero sits on the exam table, their eyes adverted, seemingly focused on some spot in the corner of the room. They gently, but firmly, grab Hero by the chin and turn their head upwards.

"Open up." The Villain's voice is quiet as they grab a new swab. "I'm going to need some more of your buccal cells."

Hero doesn't resist their hold, but speaks up in the same unserious tone they always maintain. "Use normal people words, say cheek." They always seem to have some teasing thing to say to Villain, though it mostly lacks any bite. Villain assumes this is Hero's way of maintaining some sense of control in this environment, and it's not like they mind the chatter regardless.

"If you think buccal is a complex word, I'm afraid you really aren't much more than a pretty face," Villain's tone isn't serious either, as their fingers press into Hero's jaw slightly more. "Now open up."

Hero obeys without any sass now, parting their lips so Villain can swab the inside of their mouth. Villain doesn't miss the way they lean into their touch, Hero relaxing into their hold. It's a stark contrast to how things were the first few weeks here when Villain could hardly approach Hero without getting bitten or hit. Most of the early testing from those days had to be done with Hero restrained.

Now, Hero leans into them constantly, as if they're craving another person's touch. They maintain eye contact as Villain presses close, the whole situation feeling oddly intimate. Hero's skin feels almost addictingly warm, even through the Villain's cold gloves.

Pulling away and placing the swab tip into an opened tube, Villain turns away from them, hoping to show not too much emotion on their face.

They know how touch-starved and desperate for human contact Hero is, and by God they would love to indulge them, but they want to maintain at least some sort of professionalism here, despite how deeply unethical this entire thing is. Or perhaps because of how deeply unethical it is. One less sin counted against them. To tell themselves at the very least, they're not taking advantage of Hero's loneliness while in their captivity.

They look to Hero again though as they set the test tube down, and find their will slowly chipping away, as Hero watches them with those lovely eyes that make Villain want to keep them forever.

Villain sighs, taking their gloves off and approaching them again. "You make it so difficult." Villain's cold hand comes to caress their jaw, as Hero looks at them, slightly confused by their words.

"What do you mean?" They ask as Villain's thumb goes to trace their bottom lip lightly.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to let you go when this is all said and done," Their hand wraps around to their neck, sliding through Hero's hair. "Even when I've gotten what I first stole you away for, I don't think I'll ever be quite done with you."

Villain leans forward, their lips just barely hovering above Hero's. There is no mistaking the burning fire in Villain's eyes. They seem to consider their next action for a moment before pulling away hesitantly, letting go.

They clear their throat, putting back up that wall of untouchable professionalism. "That's all for now. I'll come to collect you later for another blood draw."

#hero x villain #prompts #hero #hero prompt #original writing #villain prompt #villain #villain x hero #superhero #dialogue prompt #whump #writing prompts #writing prompt #writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr

[idiaa-shroxd]

Do you think you could write how Vil, Idia, and Azul would react to finding out gn reader is afraid of spiders? Thank you for consideration and no rush!

THE ARACH-NO-PHOBIC PREFECT ꒱ ❝ azul, vil, idia. ❞

SUMMARY: being terrified of spiders you find yourself in the midst of one while in the presence of a certain someone. you find yourself teary and petrified, but just how do they react to seeing you like this?

warnings; gn!reader x azul, vil, idia. by interacting with this post you agree you’ve read through my navigation and i hold no responsibility for the content you view.

OCTAVINELLE. azul ashengrotto.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO.

Although he was the one at fault, Azul never imagined the reaction you’d have as tears fell down your cheeks, hiccuping with puffy eyes, sniffling while trying to calm down. For the first time in a long while, he felt as though he might of been the bad guy, a very rare occurrence considering his high lack of morals when it comes to unethical business practices. He was unsure how to console you as he nervously looked at you.

“I’m sorry..” he mumbled after a few seconds, awkwardly attempting to calm you down while patting your back after he captured the spider and relocated it to a glass jar, taking it out. He was originally supposed to be scaring you into a favor after helping you, but he would never of imagined the sheer severity of it as your knees buckled and he was frantic, a pure mess. “Please, I’m so sorry.” He was scared you’d now hated him.

Azul had taken a lot of time into finding out anything he could use against you, and after hours of trying, he had heard one of your friends mention how freaked out you were the other day seeing a spider crawl around Ramshackle. Naturally he saw this as an opportunity, he was going to rope you into a business contract after you beg him for help taking the spider away, one that he released but would not mention to you, and in return he would ask you to repay the favor when you’re too frantic to think straight whether that would be a good or bad decision. As he called you into his office, he had never imagined just the chaos he would cause with a simple spider.

“Azul, I already told you I have no interest about…” before you could finish your eyes darted to the spider roaming near the edge of his desk, letting out a huge scream as you fell backwards, butt hitting the ground hard as you felt hot tears stinging the corner of your eyes, your breath hastening as you were hyperventilating. Your fingers trembled against the cool floor as your lips quivered, vision blurring and beginning to get scared the spider may crawl near you, or even worse out of sight. At the sight of you, Azul had begun feeling a pang around his heart as he had never believed this would be your reaction, just a few screams not pure hyperventilation and tears. If anything your friends undersold your reaction during their conversation he eavesdropped!

He felt a bit conflicted, mumbling an apology as you had no idea why, before he took the spider away from you while trying to calm you down. He kept muttering a few sorries along with comforting words the best he could, but he had never been one to give comfort to anyone. “You’ll be okay.” He tried his best, not sure whether to touch you or to let you have personal space. He quickly gave you tissues and guided you onto the sofa within his office, getting you a glass of water. For better or for worse, he had you in his office at least. But now you were a sniffling mess and there was no way he would allow himself to take advantage of you at the moment, even if he really really had wanted to get you to sign his business proposal.

After awhile you were finally speaking again and calmed down a lot. “Sorry, I’m just.. really scared of spiders.” You mumble while wiping your puffy eyes, sniffling. He could see that, but decided not to say that aloud. “Would you like more water..?” He asks as you laugh at his attempt to cheer you up. The two of you managed to continue talking for a bit more, helping you calm down a whole lot as he apologized again but would not elaborate after you asked why he kept doing that. He’s never going to let you near a spider again, and ended up treating you to a one time thing and let you pick one item off the menu free of charge to comfort you while trying to pretend to be smug despite his care for you being written all over his face.

Overall, he’s learnt his lesson that he should probably not put someone he cares about through a traumatic experience again for the sake of his deals. However, he’s still going to find other ways to rope you in. He’s bad at comforting but he’s understanding and helpful, doing his best to keep you calm and if he ever sees the same reaction again he will be willing to take care of the spider for you. He will also never reveal to you that it was a set up because he is terrified you will hate him and he only adores you. “I’m not too sure I’ll be eating at Monstro Lounge for awhile..” you say as you felt your skin crawl, his face turned to you within a heartbeat as he tried to save himself and claim his restaurant was exceptionally clean, only for you to not trust it whatsoever. He reaped what he sewed.

POMEFIORE. vil schoenheit.

VIL SCHOENHEIT.

Raising his brow, Vil folded his arms for a second while watching you nearly slam your head into the wall while turning on your heel and attempting to run away from a small little insect. He uncrossed his arms as you let out a shriek before deciding to handle it himself, really, sometimes you’re more dramatic than all of his drama club students he thought.

“Vil, you’re my hero.” You cried out, bruise on your head as you watch him roll up a piece of paper and set the tiny spider outside the window. A part of him felt happy to be complimented, but now he had bigger issues to care about, such as that bruise on your head and your tears ruining the look he just did for you. “Really… sometimes I wonder why I like you.”

After finishing your hair Vil had finally let you go and stand and admire yourself in the mirror. He had given your hair a full spa treatment and it was shiny and smooth, not as much as his but it was looking beautiful. As he opened his makeup pouch to fix his lipstick a small spider came out, nothing alarming to him as Ramshackle was old and cold, and a spider likely crawled inside after seeing a dark place to hide. This was not an unusual occurrence or to make a huge fuss about, it was just a tiny little spider barely the size of his fingertip nail. As the little spider crawled out, you however had different feelings than Vil as you knocked over the chair and tried to run, slamming your head against the wall after failing to take into course just where your body were moving.

A part of Vil was amused, another part of him were conflicted, but the mature part of him rolled up some paper on your desk and let the spider crawl into the hole, opening your window and gently letting the spider go. As he turned around you had tears and your clothes were a mess after your tumble, and he noticed your forehead may be bruised. He sighed to himself ready to take care of you as you began shining him with compliments about how amazing he was. He knew he was perfect, but he would rather you call him beautiful than heroic for sparing the baby spider. “Alright now, get back up. You ruined your appearance and I need to make sure your skin does not bruise.” He said, fixing the chair while getting the things ready again.

His lips curled into a smile as you sat back down, apologizing to him for ruining his hard work today, at least you knew that he doesn’t have that much time for everyone else. He was amused by your fear, honestly. You were ten times the size of the spider, yet you resembled a wet kitten on the side of the road with how you looked at him when he took the spider away, before erupting into a thankful smile. He doesn’t bring it up, but keeps thinking about it while talking to you and distracting you from what just happened. You don’t even realize it, but within an hour you completely forgot the experience as Vil works on you and talks to you, never once poking fun at you for your fear unless some of your first year friends, such as Ace.

“There, that should help with your forehead.” He hummed to himself after he applied some lotion to your bruise, putting his stuff away. He had fixed your clothes to your hair, meticulous as ever and even treated you as you looked in the mirror, good as new. You seemed pretty happy and no longer shaken up as he began thinking to himself. He wasn’t too sure how you felt on cobwebs or spiders as a design but decided for your sake when he begun shopping for your Halloween clothes or for your costume he would avoid those types of things, along with clips that resembled spider legs or any accessories that may resemble spiders just for your sake. Though, he’s not going to tell you this, figure it out on your own that he’s being nice to you.

Overall, he’s a very reliable person if you are afraid of spiders. He will not make fun of you, depending on how much he likes you, and you should be lucky he really likes you, he will not purposefully trigger your fear, and he also doesn’t bring it up to make you uncomfortable. “Now that you’ve become more presentable I’ll allow you to stay by my side, just make sure to take care of that bruise so it will go away.” He said, watching you laugh and smile at him. “Thank you for worrying about me, and thank you again for saving me, Vil.” You knew he only cared, saying those words out of love rather than believing your bruise were unsightly. Really, sometimes he should just be a bit more honest!

IGNIHYDE. idia shroud.

IDIA SHROUD.

Both you and Idia sat on the desk crying, holding one another as Ortho looked at you two with a smile after picking up the spider and taking it outside. Both of you turn towards each other and then back towards the ground, where the spider once used to be. “You.. really need to clean your room.” You break the silence as you sniffled, the blue haired boy sniffling as well as he hesitantly got off the desk.

“Maybe I do..” he mumbled, shivering at what else could lurk beneath his room he had neglected the past week for a tournament. You both look at each other as though that would reassure you both there were no more spiders. “Scan complete, there are four more spiders within the room.” Ortho said as you both shrieked, running away together out of his room, perhaps he should just burn the place and stay in Ramshackle temporarily.

Idia had invited you over to his room after a week of radio silence, gaming in one of the biggest tournaments that season. He wanted your company, really, but each time he thought of inviting you he knew he would be too distracted to focus. Your smile, eyes, lips, he couldn’t focus and win with you being around in person, or even texting him as then he would spend the next five hours thinking about how he could of responded differently and how much he can’t stop wanting to see you. When it was over, he barely won but invited you over nervously, asking if you wanted to watch some anime that just finished airing together, knowing you were a fan of the author from a different series. He really should of cleaned his room first, but you were never one to judge him or mind his messes as you knew he lived like a true gamer, messy.

As you entered you smiled greeting him, joining him on his bed as he began to talk about the anime and put it on, only to scream at an octave higher than possible and point to the bed where a spider crawled, only for you to follow and shriek even louder, jumping onto him. He ended up backing onto his desk as the two of you crawled up, crying against one another as though you just found out you were stranded on an island with no one to save you. The two of you were whispering about your wills, how much time you should of had left, how this was never meant to happen. It continued for two minutes before Ortho returned to the room and took a few seconds to analyze just what was happening. As he located the spider and screened you both to realize how you were both fearing for your life, he took the spider which was now crawling on the ground and brought it outside.

Upon returning, the two of you were still huddled together shaking, as he did his best to calm you two down and check your heartbeats. After a few minutes, you managed to make a joke about how Idia should probably clean his room, hesitantly getting off his desk. Idia chuckled and agreed, maybe he should. It had been one messy week with a few cup noodle packages all over the room, but at least the spider was gone now. As you two got off the desk and looked at each other as though to process what next, Ortho spoke up after he gave the room a thorough scanning. “Scan complete, there are four more spiders within the room.” He says as the two of you begin shaking despite his happy tone. You both only needed a second to look at one another before sprinting out the room, Idia debating on telling Ortho to blow it up, he could always buy a new pc and get a new room anyways.

The two of you ran all the way to Ignihyde lounge, where some students looked at the two of you confused but returned to their switches, Ortho trailing after as you both pant, silently agreeing to never speak to anyone about this ever again and that his room was a goner, as even if the spiders were removed you two could never step back in, what if there were eggs or more spiders? Neither of you would take that risk. “Ortho.. please take my computer and valuables out then proceed to destroy my room.” The Ignihyde students looked up from their games, utterly confused as Ortho tried talking sense into his big brother and you, which may or may not have worked.

Overall, he’s in the same boat. He will not make fun of you but he also won’t comfort you because he’s screaming as well, maybe the same amount as you. He’s so adrenaline filled that he can’t think straight and may clutch onto you as you clutch him, both fearing the worst and acting like you’re going to die. He does end up staying at Ramshackle for a few days in the guest room as Ortho cleans up his room after destroying all of the furniture and does a thorough cleaning. Both of you refused to step into his cleaned room for a month, silently coming to an understanding as comrades afraid of spiders that this was for the best.

meant to get this out sooner but my cat is on a diet.. decided to put him on a diet after he gained weight and he’s been throwing a tantrum refusing to eat for two days and as a responsible person ive been worried about him, sorry for the delay!! i’m working on another draft req and will upload it early as an apology for those waiting!! reqs are still open, and I am going to do a cat cafe req next!!

©idiaa-shroxd. do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or use my works to train ai.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twsted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #thank you for 200 followers! (^○^)

[lostyesterday]

There’s an ethical question in Star Trek I’ve seen several people here talk about that I’ve thought about a lot. Basically, what are the ethics of having a romantic or sexual relationship with a non-sentient holographic version of a real person? This issue is brought up several times in canon, but never dealt with well, in my opinion. The main canon discussions of this topic that I remember (and it’s possible I forgot something) are in Booby Trap (TNG) where Geordi has a very brief romantic relationship with a holographic version of a real woman he’s never met, in Hollow Pursuits (TNG) where Barclay presumably has romantic/sexual relationships with extremely out of character holographic versions of Deanna and Beverly, in Meridian (DS9) where a guy wants Quark to sell him a holographic version of Kira to have sex with, and in Human Error (VOY) where Seven has a semi-long-term romantic and sexual relationship with a holographic version of Chakotay.

So, first of all, I don’t think that any of those instances mentioned are morally okay. Booby Trap is the most complicated case morally speaking since, to my memory, Geordi didn’t intentionally initiate anything romantic, though he didn’t stop it once it started either. I don’t want to imply that what Geordi did is morally as bad as the other examples I’m discussing, especially since Geordi is the only character of color being discussed here and his actions are not really equivalent in intention or impact to the other characters’. As an episode, Booby Trap doesn’t seem to have a clear idea of whether or not what Geordi is doing is unethical. In fact, it felt to me as if that question wasn’t something that occurred to the writers at all (until Galaxy’s Child, but that’s a whole other thing and the hologram portion of it is arguably the least messed up thing there, so I’m ignoring it in relation to this topic). Hollow Pursuits does portray what Barclay does negatively, but I feel like the episode is much more concerned with the negative emotional effects this has for Barclay rather than for Deanna and Beverly. Meridian, from what I remember, is the only episode to portray this situation as definitively bad, and Kira is portrayed as justified in being angry. However, the episode is a mess in other ways and does not explore the topic with nuance, making light of it with humor when I think it needed to be taken more seriously. Human Error is in some ways the most baffling case here because what Seven does is portrayed almost positively, as something that is a potentially good step in Seven’s “social development”. Apparently, there is no thought given to what Chakotay would think of the situation. I’ve seen people suggest that the narrative and fandom treatment of Seven versus the other characters is a gendered double standard, which I do think makes sense.

But the problem here isn’t having a sexual/romantic relationship with a hologram, the problem is that the person didn’t consent to having their holographic image used this way. There’s obviously nothing wrong with having sex or a relationship with a hologram not based on anyone’s image, or based on the image of someone who gave clear consent to have their image used in that way. But using someone’s image this way without their consent is pretty obviously analogous to making nonconsensual porn of someone. Do the ethics of this situation change if the hologram is of a historical figure? What about a famous person who is still alive? I don’t necessarily have answers here, but I do think the situation can become more complicated.

And then there’s another factor to consider – is the sexual/romantic relationship the biggest issue here? In the cases of Hollow Pursuits and Human Error, Barclay and Seven’s simulations of the crew are much more extensive than just the romantic/sexual portions. Would it have been all right for Barclay to create potentially offensive and demeaning holographic versions of his crewmates if there was no romantic/sexual component? Would it be okay for Seven to recreate a version of every Voyager crew member and live out an intricate alternate life with them without any of their consent if she never had romantic/sexual relationships with any of them? Is it any less a violation of someone’s rights to use their image without consent for, say, a propaganda campaign for an issue they disagree with, or a story that portrays their holographic version as a horrible person? That second scenario is the plot of the Voyager episode Author Author. This episode seems to take the moral stance that it’s bad for the Doctor to use the images of his fellow Voyager crew members to portray horrible characters, but there are other questions it doesn’t raise. Would it have been okay for the Doctor to use their images without consent if he had portrayed their holographic versions positively? What is the line between an acceptable and unacceptable usage of another person’s image without their consent? Is it ever okay to use a person’s holographic image without their consent? Is such consent implied when a person agrees to holographic scans of their body? What exactly is one consenting to when they consent to have a holographic version of themself created? I don’t necessarily have answers to these questions, I just wish any of these episodes had explored these issues with more nuance. And I do think that it’s important to consider extending the question of consent here beyond sex and romance.

#star trek tng #star trek ds9 #star trek voy #i do not mean any of this to be an attack on geordi seven barclay or the doctor as characters #i think all of this is more reflective of biases on the part of the writers than anything else #and it’s hard to place complete blame on particular characters when the moral stances of the episodes are so murky #lane posts

[starlightkun]

⇢ word count: 19.1k ⇢ warnings: past unethical experimentation, brief blood and gore descriptions (some human and some non-human), 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, needle/injection mention ⇢ 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: ahhh she’s finally here! i hope you guys are as excited for part one as i am!! ⇢ series masterlist | next

Frankenstein complex (noun) ── The fear of mechanical men.

The air smelled like blood, burned electrical components, and whatever horrible odor came from blood getting onto electrical components as they sparked. All the blood wasn’t human, you could tell that, too. Skipper blood always stung your nose like rubbing alcohol. It was pitch black in the space you were hiding in, or maybe it was just nighttime. You should be scared, but your heart wasn’t beating fast for some reason.

Two pairs of heavy footfalls. One was heavier than the other. Walking, so definitely not Skippers. Both were still too light to be heavier races.

They slowed to a stop outside your hiding spot, and you really hoped they couldn’t read the Outspacer controls that would open the otherwise impossible-to-see door. After all, it was a language that had been dead for hundreds of millions of years, there was no way—

“Hey, Zennie, you got a read on these?” A man’s voice came from nearby, muffled by both the wall and presumably a helmet as well. Human, or related species.

You couldn’t hear this ‘Zennie’s reply, as it most likely came through the comms in his helmet, but you could hear the man’s side of the conversation.

“Oh, of course, how dare I, a mere meatsack, doubt your high-and-mighty artificial intelligence,” he replied with fake deference. “Yeah, yeah, I know that’s not what you meant. Alright, so just tell me which one’s the self-destruct button so I don’t press it?”

“Move, Wong, before you blow us up.” Another voice interjected. “ZEN? You said it’s a passageway? Oh, safe shelter. Bit different, don’t you think? Mind translating the dead language right the first time?”

He paused as he probably listened to Zen’s reply, then continued, “So? You know which one’s the open button?”

You couldn’t go anywhere. The hideout you were in was designed to hold only a few people for weather emergencies, to be structurally sound; not to have a back door in case you needed to escape intruders. You just had to hope Zen was completely wrong and they wouldn’t get it open.

Click.

There goes that.

The door dematerialized, and the rancid smell from before became even stronger. A man peered in barrel-first, and you recoiled back from the sudden light flooding your vision. You couldn’t press yourself any further back into the corner, but you still turned your head away to shield your sensitive eyes.

It only took a couple strides for one of the men to reach you, the other stayed back in the hallway, keeping his rifle fixed on you. The man stood over where you were sitting on the floor—your legs had gotten tired of standing after so long—and lowered his gun slightly so you could see the entirety of the front plate that covered his face. It was a reflective shield that gave you no clue to who was behind it, only let you see a warped, thinned and stretched version of yourself cowering in a corner. His armor was an improved version of the standard issue United Human Navy, if the insignia on both of his shoulders didn’t make that clear enough. It looked the same as the standard issue, but the heft of his footsteps had belied a weight difference that wasn’t explained by his stature or build, so it must be the grade of material.

“Are you hurt?” His voice came through an external speaker on his helmet. He was speaking in standard human. You couldn’t detect any sort of odd stiltedness or lag that sometimes happened with computer-assisted translations. He was assuming you understood standard human, and you did.

“No,” you replied, slowly uncrossing your arms to show your hands first, that you didn’t have anything hidden in them to attack him with. You still weren’t scared, for some reason.

“Oh, she’s pretty,” his companion commented from the hallway. The two of them must be sharing helmet feeds, as the one in front of you was definitely blocking most of you from his sight.

“Wong, shut it.” The outer speaker had been turned off for that, but it was still pretty clear to you.

“Sir, yes sir.”

“Can you stand?” His weapon was still at the ready, his finger resting above the trigger.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d wiggled your fingers and toes, and it felt good to do it. “Yes.”

He stepped back, the unexpressive mirror of his face shield watching as you pushed up from your half-sit half-crouch, bracing yourself against the wall. Your body instinctively took a deep breath to try to recover from the sudden exertion, but the vaporized Skipper blood burned your entire respiratory tract, and you coughed and spluttered trying to force it back out, catching yourself on the wall on your forearms to stay upright. The odor made your head swim, your eyes water, and your chest hurt like someone had put gasoline in your lungs and struck a match.

“Okay, woah, woah.” Two gloved hands were on your arms and back, helping you stay up. His voice was muffled again as he switched to his in-helmet comms, “Xiao, get over here! We’ve got a survivor! Yes, really, just look at my stream.”

Then, his voice was projecting to you once more, “Breathe, breathe.”

You felt the roughness of a thumb wiping at the tears running down your cheeks, the durable material of his glove scratching against your skin. He grabbed the front of your shirt collar, pulling it up towards your face at the same time he firmly pulled your hand down that had been covering your mouth as you wheezed. Positioning the material over your nose and mouth into a makeshift filter of some sort, he continued holding it there for you as you took a few breaths.

“Better?”

You nodded shallowly. The smell of Skipper blood still cloyed to your throat and lungs, but the shirt helped keep more from entering.

More footsteps from down the hall, then another pair entered the shelter.

“Holy shit…” Someone breathed out.

“I know, man,” the voice that you were already pretty sure was ‘Wong’ from earlier replied.

“How long has she been in here?” A fourth voice asked, belonging to the footsteps getting closer to you.

“I don’t know,” the man already with you answered. “Wong and I just found her while clearing this sector.”

“Okay, well, you mind, Captain?” He said indicatively. “Can’t examine my patient through you.”

“You got it?” The captain asked you, shaking the collar slightly.

You took it from him, holding it over the bridge of your nose yourself as he had been doing for you before. Looking into his face shield where you were pretty sure his eyes should be, you nodded firmly this time.

He didn’t step back until you felt another pair of gloves grabbing your elbows where he had been. The newcomer’s uniform differed from the others’ in one way, he had a neon green rectangular patch on his right arm below his UHN insignia, as well as a few other places—intergalactic signal for medic. It was removable for the wearer’s own safety, and his in particular was slightly askew, as if he’d just slapped it back on in a hurry.

The medic flipped through the pockets of a pack strapped to his thigh before pulling out a small disc of clear plastic and pushing that against your hand. “Here, this’ll work a lot better than your shirt.”

You accepted it, and he helped you orient it the right way over your nose and mouth. It was apparently a mask or rebreather of some sort. It wasn’t exceptionally bulky, and you could feel that there was some sort of fine mesh material on the inside. Immediately, you could tell the difference. The air coming into your lungs carried only the slightest tinge of lingering burning electronics smell, and while you could tell that there was Skipper blood, it didn’t burn, or make your head spin. It was just unpleasant.

“There. How’s that?”

You gave him a thumbs-up, the standard human gesture for good, since they all seemed to speak standard human. The mask didn’t allow much room for talking.

“Alright, good. Are you injured?”

You shook your head.

“Do you feel pain anywhere?”

You shook your head again.

“Good, good. I have more questions, but we should get somewhere you can breathe. Give me a second.” He looked upwards as if talking to the heavens, and his outer speaker turned off. “Liu? Professor? Did you finish clearing the building? Alright, ZEN, got readings on air quality for her?”

After a pause, both the medic, Xiao, and the captain, who had been hovering behind him the whole time, nodded.

“Thanks, ZEN.” Xiao’s speaker turned on, “Here, our teammates found somewhere that you can breathe. It’s going to be a little bit of a walk, though. Is that okay?”

You nodded. Your legs would just have to deal.

“It’s not pretty out here…” The only one that hadn’t been identified to you in passing called out as a warning from his position in the hallway with ‘Wong.’

You turned around and pushed off the wall as your answer.

Stepping into the hall, you knew why you had smelled that particular concoction of smells. Just off to your left were two dead Skippers, their uniquely-articulated hind limbs that gave them their distinct gait—and consequently, the questionably flattering nickname from humans—stuck out at awkward angles now. Dark purple sludge seeped out from under their armor, Skipper blood. On the outside of the armor were smears, streaks, and splatters turned a gleaming ruby red under the emergency lights, human blood.

You couldn’t see any dead humans, or pieces of them, in this corner, but you remembered what the captain had called you. A survivor. Which meant there were others who didn’t survive.

“Come on.” It was the captain who ushered you the other direction from the Skipper bodies. “This way.”

Their helmets must have been mapping out the facility as the unit cleared it and displaying a route in all of their HUDs, because the four of them moved as if they knew the building like the back of their hand. The captain and Xiao flanked you on either side, with Wong at the front and the fourth unnamed one at the rear. You couldn’t tell if it felt more like a protection detail or a prisoner transport.

You kept your eyes on your feet not only so you didn’t have to see all of the mutilation, or to keep from stepping in something, but to avoid the unsettling, cold dread slowly sinking over you when from the moment you caught a look at the first dead human you passed by with her remarkably in-tact face, dandelion yellow blouse and lab coat, and realized you didn’t recognize her. When you inhaled sharply and shot your eyes down to your feet, you could tell that the captain noticed. He turned his head just ever so slightly towards you, off of the consistent path it had been before, and he paused, then went back to keeping watch.

They weren’t kidding when they said it was a bit of a walk. You could feel the muscles in your legs get sore, then start twitching, then start shaking, but you didn’t even consider asking to stop.

“Woah, Liu, slow down!” The captain ordered into his headset. “Okay, yeah, I see it. Don’t touch anything. We’re just sweeping right now, remember?”

“Great, the kid’s found more toys,” the one behind you snorted.

Xiao and Wong suddenly erupted into more laughter than that statement warranted you were pretty sure.

Wong then informed him with a snicker, “Mic’s on, Ten.”

“You say that as if I wouldn’t have said that to his face, too,” the one now finally identified as Ten retorted.

“ZEN, the mics, please?” The captain sighed. “Thank you.”

“Now he’s going to whine that we were shit talking him behind his back,” Xiao groaned. “Again.”

“Well we are,” Ten laughed.

“If he just stopped acting like a baby, Captain here wouldn’t have to step in and put him in time out all the time,” Wong clicked his tongue.

“You think he’s the one in time out right now?” The captain replied dryly.

You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle into your mask, trying to cover it up with a cough when all four of their reflective shields whipped around to face you, as if they’d forgotten you were there. After an uncomfortable stretch of silence, they all shifted back into their watchful stances.

The captain suddenly spoke again, “Yes, Professor? Okay, sure… ZEN, put that on everyone’s HUDs.”

The lack of commentary from any of them for seemingly several minutes was startling, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to know what this ‘Professor’ was showing them.

“We’re going to have to go back there after dropping Xiao and her off, aren’t we?” Wong was the first to speak.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” Ten sighed.

“Or already know the answer to,” the captain said. “If she has any wounds that Xiao needs to tend to, one of you will stay to keep guard. If not, it’ll be Ten and Wong with me to meet up with Liu and the Professor, and Xiao will stay with her.”

“Alright, Ten,” Wong rolled out his neck. “Rock paper scissors?”

“Almost there,” Wong called out from ahead of you. Your internal clock told you it was almost half an hour since they found you.

“It’s just through those doors,” the captain informed you, indicating to the double doors on the opposite side of the large atrium you were in. This area had been mostly untouched by the carnage, it seemed.

“The building does have Gecks, but none of those seemed to have made it out in one piece,” Xiao added, explaining why you hadn’t used the small four-seater all-terrain vehicles, parts of which you had occasionally seen strewn about. “Sorry.”

You shrugged one shoulder at him in what you hoped he could interpret as an understanding gesture, as you were pretty sure this wasn’t their fault. From the context that you were trying to gather very quickly, they had only just gotten here.

Wong pushed one of the doors open, and the captain went in right behind to do a quick sweep, shouting out a short ‘clear!’ before Xiao led you in, and Ten followed in last, Wong shutting it firmly behind him.

You had emerged into something that looked impossible. An entire world bigger than the building you were in before, but definitely contained in one room, as when you turned around, you could still find the door. Ahead of you were rolling hills of vibrant crops, and your hand fell from your face, taking the rebreather with it. The air in here was fresh and crisp, and of course it was, this was the ag bubble. It must have remained untouched from the conflict outside because it was completely self-sustaining, needing no human intervention to planet, grow, or maintain the crops, so there would have been nobody in here in the first place.

“Okay, I’ll ask again: Any pain?” Xiao questioned you, taking his gloves off, and revealing rather delicate hands for a military medic. He motioned like he was about to grab your arm. “Can I?”

You nodded, holding it out for him to lift and turn your limb to visibly inspect it as you verbally answered his first question. “No, no pain, no injuries, I swear. I mean, my legs are a bit sore from walking, but that’s it.”

He let it hang back down at your side before doing the same to the other arm. “Hit your head?”

“Uh, I don’t think so?” You bent your head to let him quickly feel at your scalp through your hair for any bumps, lacerations, or other evidence of injury.

“Have all your toes?”

“Haven’t counted lately…?”

“Do it now.”

And so everybody stood around while you awkwardly took your shoes and socks off to make sure you had all ten toes, and that they weren’t necrotic, then you finally sat down to pull your socks and shoes back on. Xiao took your pulse manually at your wrist, before having you breathe into a small device and sampling a pinprick of blood from your finger with the same tool. After a moment, the screen lit up green, along with your specific readings.

“Satisfied, Xiao?” The captain asked.

“Absolutely,” the medic nodded. “More compliant than all of my patients as of late.”

“Good. We’re going to head out to catch up with the others and check that out.”

“Better you than me.”

“Hold on guys, aren’t we forgetting something?” Wong stopped the other two from leaving.

Ten and the captain looked at each other, then back to Wong.

“What, Wong? And we’re not guessing, spit it out or shut up,” the captain demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

Wong reached up and pulled his helmet off in one grand motion, the first of any of them to have done so. He shook his dark, shaggy hair out—you wondered if that length was perhaps a bit too long for UHN standards, as it was almost covering his ears—before focusing a wide grin on you. Wong crouched down in front of you.

“Do angels have names?”

The other three groaned and swore at varying volumes.

You stared at him blankly, unsure of why this was receiving such backlash from the others, and why they all also seemed to be waiting for your response. When it had quieted down a little bit, you cleared your throat, and answered hesitantly, “I-I don’t know. Do they? I’m sorry, I’m not a theologist… I don’t think I even believe in the divine, really.”

Wong’s jaw dropped as he stared at you, and Ten and Xiao began howling with laughter. The captain marched over, cuffing him by the ear. “That’s enough. Get up! Stop harassing the woman.”

“Ow! That hurt!” Wong cradled the side of his head as he pulled himself to his feet.

“Should’ve kept your helmet on.” The captain yanked Wong away by his scruff as the soldier struggled to put his gear back on. “Do it again and I’m throwing you out of the Vision into the next star. Understand me, Corporal?”

“Zennie! Not helpful, dude! I don’t think that was him asking how close the closest star was!” Wong yelped.

Wong, Ten, and the captain disappeared through the door, and you could no longer hear them, but judging by Xiao’s chuckling, they were still going at it, and it was apparently funny. You looked up at the one remaining soldier you were left with inquisitively.

“Oh, sorry, here.” Xiao popped his helmet off as well, and you got to see his sharp features for the first time. He set it on the ground at his feet, and you noted that he pointed the face shield away from you. “I’m Xiao Dejun. You can just call me Dejun, if you’d like.”

“Don’t you need to hear your teammates?” You asked hesitantly, looking at the helmet.

“Earpiece,” he tapped a small device nestled in his left ear. “There are some advantages to not having the neural port. Like not having an AI inside of my goddamn brain.”

“You also don’t have a rifle,” you observed for the first time. Before, you had presumed that it was merely slung over his back, but now you could clearly see that the bulk there was more packs of medical supplies.

“I’m a terrible shot, barely got past basic. I’d just make more patients if I had one,” he laughed, then patted a holster on his right thigh. “Captain makes me carry a pistol, though.”

You looked off towards a rippling field of grain nearby, trying not to think of that woman’s face, her yellow blouse, because then you’d think about why you didn’t know her. She was in a lab coat, this was some kind of scientific facility, you were sure of it, you knew that, so why didn’t you know her—

“Sorry about Wong, by the way,” Dejun very thankfully caught your attention again, offering you your second smile of the day. “I promise, he wasn’t trying to be greasy. He’s a goofball, he was trying to make you laugh, put you at ease, you know? But clearly, that wasn’t the way to do it. So again, sorry.”

“He wasn’t asking a theological question?” You clarified.

He tilted his head, giving you a strange, bemused look. “No, he was asking what your name is. It’s an old, cheesy Earth pickup line. Or, I guess it must be unique to Earth, since you don’t know it. Are you from a colony or…?”

“I… don’t know,” you trailed off, the corners of your mouth turning down as you tried to think harder.

“You don’t know your name? Or if you’re from a colony?”

“My name’s Y/N.” You could answer that immediately. That was familiar, yours.

“So you don’t remember if you’re from Earth or a colony?”

You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to think harder, but it felt like you were just scrambling in a dark, empty room. “No, I don’t know.”

“Hey, that’s okay. Relax, Y/N,” he said gently. “Just relax right now, okay?”

Dejun took one of the packs off his back and started rooting through it. “How long were you in there? I’m sure you’re thirsty, and hungry.”

“I don’t know…”

His brow furrowed as he offered a canteen out to you. “Here. Water.”

“Thank you.”

Slowly, the man with you lowered himself down until he was sitting across from you, linking his fingers together. He let you open the bottle and take a few deep gulps of water. You couldn’t remember the last time you had water, but it felt great to drink it again.

“Y/N…” The medic said calmly. “What is the first thing you can remember? The oldest hard memory you have?”

You wiped away a stray drop that had rolled down your chin, and scraped through your brain, but came up startlingly empty. “I-I guess smelling blood, all the human blood and Skipper blood, and then hearing footsteps outside where I was hiding. Wong’s and the captain’s, right before they found me.”

His eyes went wide, and his nostrils flared as his features turned serious. “Your oldest memory is less than an hour old?”

That same unsettling, cold dread that had started sinking down over you since you saw the woman fully coated you, and you involuntarily shivered. Cautiously, hesitantly, as if afraid that you were erring somehow, you nodded. “I take back what I said earlier, Dejun. I think there’s something very, very wrong with me.”

Dejun asked you round after round of questions walking through the very first thing you could remember right up to that very second, until he let out a long sigh.

“Well, so far it seems like you’re forming memories right now just fine,” he declared. “And you at least remember your name, which is good.”

“I knew you guys were UHN, and that you were a medic because of your green patch,” you reiterated insistently, feeling like you were going in circles with your own mind. How could you possibly know about the United Human Navy and military visual codes but not if you were from Earth or not?

“Okay, so you’ve been around the Navy before. If you were at this place, that makes sense. You don’t have a neural port, so you were probably a military contractor of some sort.”

You immediately latched onto this clue. “What is this place?”

Dejun offered you a regretful look. “Already said too much. That’s a question for the captain, sorry.”

You sighed, but didn’t push him. Pointing to the exit, you tried another avenue of your apparent knowledge. “I know those aliens are called Skippers.” 

“Definitely UHN with that lingo.” Dejun grinned at you. “One of us.”

“But I don’t know why they were here. Or why I’m here.”

“Don’t push yourself.”

“And I know that this place is an agriculture bubble, ag bubble for short, and what that is, and the basics of how and why it works, and what it’s for, but not why it would be here. Or why I would be here—ow!” You held the front of your head as a dull pressure started up from the inside.

“Y/N?” Dejun scrambled closer, his voice concerned. “What’s going on?”

“My head hurts,” you scrunched your nose up against the feeling.

“Where? Describe it for me. Is it a throbbing? Stabbing? Shooting? Aching? Squeezing?”

“The front mostly. Feels like something’s pushing from the inside out, kind of,” you explained, dropping your hand to let him do another, more thorough examination for any head injuries.

“A pressure?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got to take it easy,” he told you frankly. “The human brain’s a finnicky, unpredictable thing. And I’m just talking about the squishy part inside your skull. Interrogating it about why you can remember some things and why you can’t remember other things isn’t going to make you remember those things. I can’t see any injury on the outside, but since you can’t remember whether or not you were injured, and we don’t have anybody else to say either way, we can’t discount that your amnesia came from an injury. If you sprained your ankle, you wouldn’t be running a marathon on it. Same thing with an injured brain, okay?”

“Okay,” you acquiesced, grabbing the canteen again. Already, your head was feeling a little better.

“You’re officially the easiest patient I’ve ever had,” he declared, sitting back down. “If I had lollipops to give out, you’d get one.”

Before you could say anything, Dejun held up a finger for you to wait, then grabbed his helmet and yanked it back on. “What the fuck… Alright, yeah, I agree, this is the best place to set up camp. Y/N confirmed it’s an ag bubble, we’ll be able to—Can I finish? Anyway, it’s an ag bubble, so we’ll be able to live here indefinitely. Cool, we’ll see you guys soon.”

Dejun took the helmet off again, resting it on his hip as he informed you, “Everyone’s coming back here to set up camp.”

“Making camp in the ag bubble does make the most sense,” you stated, looking around you. “Fresh air, running water, obviously unlimited food.”

“Glad you agree.”

“How long is your team supposed to be here?”

“Question for the captain.”

“Seems as though I have a lot of questions for the captain,” you sighed, resting your cheek on your knees as you traced figure-eights in the grass with your finger.

“He’s going to have a few for you as well.”

“I would ask what everybody went to go investigate, but I have a feeling…”

“Just wait until he gets back.”

“As I had guessed.”

There was a short rhythm of knocks at the door to the ag bubble, and Dejun jogged over to open it. “Clear!”

A group of UHN soldiers all entered, talking among themselves, though you could tell when their reflective face shields occasionally turned over towards you. You were still sitting on the ground, hugging your knees to your chest, and uncertainly got to your feet, brushing away any stray dirt that may have clung to you. Dejun put himself between them and you, holding his hands out, and you could very clearly hear the word ‘amnesia’ a few times as he seemed to be sternly prefacing this introduction, taking his role as your doctor seriously.

Judging by how he held himself, the one that you were pretty sure was the captain cocked his head at this information, but remained quiet through Dejun’s small spiel. The medic gestured as if he were rushing them, and they all reached up to take their helmets off as well. He finally led them over to you, offering you a reassuring smile.

“Y/N, this is the crew of the Vision,” he motioned to all five of them. “I’ll let our captain take over on introductions.”

“Thanks, Lieutenant,” the one that you had already pinpointed as the captain from afar spoke up. Despite not being the tallest of them, he held himself differently, as if there was some weight there that you couldn’t see, but he carried with a straight back and level shoulders nevertheless. “I’m Captain Qian Kun of the United Human Navy vessel the Vision. I’m sure our doctor, Lieutenant Xiao, has already introduced himself. This is the rest of my… ragtag team: Corporal Wong Kunhang…”

You looked at the only other man aside from Dejun who was familiar to you, who fixed you with an exceptionally apologetic gaze.

“I am very sorry about earlier, ma’am,” he bowed his head regretfully, hands clasped behind his back.

“Oh, thank you,” you responded. “I’m sure you’re very funny, Corporal Wong, to other people.”

A couple of the others let out snickers as they tried to stay at attention, Dejun and another openly bursting into laughter. The taller one quickly scrambled to get back into his position and push down his smile as the captain focused his gaze on all of them again.

Captain Qian continued, “Staff Sergeant Ten Lee.”

He flashed you a grin. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am.”

“Lieutenant Liu Yangyang…”

“Nice to meet you!” Lieutenant Liu beamed at you, though there was a weird little glint in his eye that you weren’t sure if you liked. It was like he was trying to take you apart piece by piece. His gaze hadn’t left you through everybody else’s introduction, and you weren’t liking having to meet it now. “And can I just say, I think you’re one of the funniest beings in the galaxy? Definitely funnier than Wong over there.”

“Kid’s making some points,” Ten elbowed Wong.

Captain Qian suddenly took over again very loudly, “And finally, our only civilian member of the crew, Professor Dong Sicheng, Department of Xenolinguistics at New Beijing University.”

This was the other guy who had outright laughed a moment ago, and you could tell he was much less comfortable with the stiff military position before Captain Qian had informed you he was a civilian. Despite his civilian status, though, he was in the same armor and carried the same arms as everyone else—more firepower than Dejun did. You were just glad to not have to be making eye contact with Liu anymore. It felt like he knew something that you didn’t, and you definitely didn’t like that, given your current predicament.

Six of them. Turning back to Captain Qian, you tilted your head curiously. “ZEN is… your ship’s AI? And you all have a synchronous fragment in your helmets, earpieces, and neural ports?”

A couple of them looked at Dejun incredulously.

“I didn’t tell her. She has amnesia, she’s not an idiot,” he retorted.

“Maybe you did something with tech,” Ten suggested. “Could be why you were here.”

“What did I just tell you about stressing her memory?” Dejun scolded him. “She needs to rest.”

“We all do,” Captain Qian agreed. “After we set up camp. Come on.”

Dejun shooed you away from helping to set up camp despite already knowing that you had no physical injuries, finally giving you a task of making sure all of his emergency canteens in his medic packs had fresh water from the river nearby. You knew it was busy work, but did it anyway, glad to feel useful.

Loaded up with canteens slung around your waist and shoulders, you took the paved pathways between the acres of crops until you reached a crystal clear river. There were some areas that were sandy shores, and others that were grassy drop-offs. Stopping at a grassy drop-off, you sat down, the canteens clanking against each other. You took them off and poured out the water in them one-by-one, making a pile of empty canteens. Then you leaned over the edge and filled them up from the cool, gentle current, starting a second pile of full canteens.

You could feel the thud of heavy footsteps in the ground, and knew who was approaching you before Captain Qian even spoke.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked, and you looked over your shoulder to see him holding a large, empty water jug. “You seem to have grabbed the best spot.”

“Not at all.” You jerked your head towards the empty space on the other side of your full canteen pile.

He sat as well, grabbing an apparatus the size of his hand off the side and lowering that into the water instead of the entire jug. It was connected to the jug by a tube, and you watched as it moved water up from the river into the top of the container.

“Dejun didn’t tell me about ZEN earlier,” you said abruptly, trying to vouch for the doctor who so far had been the kindest person that you could remember in your life. “Really, I was guessing just from how you guys were talking—”

“It’s okay, Y/N, we weren’t being very discrete,” Captain Qian assured you. “Xiao isn’t one for lying to cover his ass, either. I believe him when he says that he didn’t tell you who exactly ZEN is.”

“There were a lot of questions I was asking that he couldn’t answer. Just kept telling me to ask you.”

“Like what?”

“Don’t you already know? His earpiece…”

“ZEN isolates comms as necessary when the unit is split up. The other five of us needed to hear each other more than we needed to eavesdrop on you two in here.”

You gnawed on your bottom lip nervously. “…He told me to take it easy, with my brain and the amnesia.”

“Maybe we can gently jog your memory,” he suggested.

“How?”

“That woman in the hall, in the yellow top. Did you know her?”

“I don’t know…” You replied regretfully. You were apparently the only person alive in this building, and couldn’t identify that woman. Were you friends? Should you be mourning her? Did she have a family? Was there anybody to tell to mourn her? It felt wrong that nobody would. And there were even more like that who you didn’t look at, who you hadn’t seen.

“It’s a big building. There were probably a lot of people working here. You might not have known everybody,” he replied casually.

You pushed one of your hands against your eye, against the pressure that was coming back. “No, I don’t… I don’t know anything. About what this place was for.”

“Alright, alright,” he held up his free hand in surrender.

When your head hurt less, and you had filled up a couple more canteens, you changed your focus. He had asked you a question, it was only fair you asked him one.

“Why are you guys here? To stop the Skippers?”

“No. We didn’t know there was any alien presence until we arrived and saw the ships out front.”

You kept your gaze on the running water as you tried to work through the information you were getting. “Then why did your team get sent here?”

“We’re trying to figure out what happened here too.”

“No,” you rejected that immediately, pointing in his general direction accusatorily. It didn’t make sense with everything you already knew. “You didn’t know there were Skippers here until you got here. Now you’re trying to figure out what happened here. So why were you coming here in the first place?”

The captain breathed out, his tone dropping the strained casualness it had before. “This is a UHN research facility. We were sent to investigate reports of unsanctioned experiments being conducted here.”

You snapped your head up to look at him. “What kind of experiments?”

“Look, rumors about this kind of stuff is everywhere. Urban legends, pulp fiction, everyone’s heard something about illegal government experiments. But reputable intelligence on this kind of stuff is few and far between. This one was trusted enough to get us out here, but unfortunately sparse on details.”

“I don’t know anything about it.”

“As you’ve already said,” he replied tersely.

“I don’t,” you repeated.

“I didn’t say you were lying.”

You didn’t love the pace that the captain was drip feeding you information, or for whatever purpose of his own that he was doing it, but he was giving you information, and in your state, that was vital. So you kept him engaged. “How do Skippers figure into those experiments?”

“We don’t know.”

“So it seems like we’re on the same page here.” You could almost laugh.

“Yes.”

When you looked over at Captain Qian, there was maybe the faintest curl of a smile at the corner of his mouth, but as soon as you had questioned it in your mind, it was gone. He continued filling his jug, and you continued filling the canteens. You were still thinking about his heavy footsteps, and wanted to keep him talking, wanted to grasp at any information you could get in hopes it slotted it somewhere in your own mind.

“Your armor…” You began, eyes dragging over the pieces he was wearing, everything except his helmet. “How can you wear it?”

He crooked an eyebrow up at you curiously. “You mean aside from putting it on my body?”

You looked at him entirely unamused before continuing, “It’s made to look like standard UHN armor, but I can hear that it’s made of material far denser than your teammates’.”

Both of his eyebrows lifted in surprise momentarily, before his expression was neutral once more, and he calmly informed you, “Minor skeletal enhancements.”

So that’s why he moved differently from the others.

“Why didn’t your teammates receive them?”

“The UHN doesn’t need to spend the money to equip every soldier with minor skeletal enhancements for armor that is very expensive to make.”

“So why are you worth the very expensive armor, then?”

“It’s actually the old stuff, they’ve moved on to newer and better.” He was done filling the jug now and stood up. “I’m not worth the expensive stuff anymore.”

“Why don’t they give you the new one?”

“It’s bigger and heavier, my skeletal enhancements wouldn’t be able to support it. They need younger people for that program.”

“You… are not very old,” you observed plainly.

He shouldered the jug of water that was bigger than his entire torso as if it were a pillow. “No. I’m not.”

You didn’t appreciate how he had skirted some of your questions, like why he had been chosen for such a program, but the scale of information he had implicitly given you in just a few words was more than enough to leave you floored. If that’s what the UHN was doing above the board, you weren’t sure if you wanted to find out what they considered unsanctionable—what was going on here.

Returning to the others, you were happy to see a fully set up camp, and handed over the refilled canteens to Dejun, who made sure to thank you profusely and reassure you that you were a huge help. Despite it feeling a little patronizing, you were satisfied at having at least done something rather than sitting around watching them do everything while you did nothing.

“Y/N!” Someone called out your name, you looked over your shoulder to see Ten and Wong approaching you.

“Yes, Corporal?”

He laughed and shook his head. “You don’t have to do that. Kunhang and Ten is just fine.”

His companion nodded in agreement.

“We’re on dinner duty,” Kunhang pointed between the two of them. “Do you know what all is in here?”

“Do you people know the meaning of the word amnesia?” Dejun snapped. “Honestly, ask ZEN if—”

“There should be a panel by the entrance that tells you that,” you answered, pointing towards the door. “I don’t think I remember the specifics of this ag bubble, but I’m pretty sure I’m remembering that correctly. Right? They all have information panels at the entrance?”

“It does,” Ten assured you of your knowledge. “It’s in Outspacer. We uploaded it to ZEN, but he— Oh, thanks, man.”

“Zennie, incredible timing as always,” Kunhang rolled his eyes. He smiled at you. “Never mind, got everything we need. Thanks!”

They walked away into the fields, and you turned back to Dejun, who was now organizing his supplies in his tent.

“I wish I could be more help,” you sighed.

“Y/N, come here,” he gestured you into the open entrance of the tent. You obliged, and he plopped down onto a cot on one side, then pointed to the other for you to sit. “They didn’t actually need your help.”

“But they asked—”

“I know. Without divulging too much, I can tell you that the seven of us have been essentially the only people we’ve all been around for… months on end.”

“I see.” You nodded, noting how he seemed to be including ZEN in that count. “I’m someone new to talk to.”

“Right. And the next thing I’m going to say, I do hope you don’t take this the wrong way. You’re also a pretty woman.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re safe with us. But I’m just saying that you’ll probably be getting more attention than if we had a new guy in camp.”

“Is that why Liu keeps looking at me like that?” You asked.

“Like what?” Dejun’s brow furrowed.

“Like… I don’t know, he just keeps looking at me. Like he’s studying me.”

He shook his head. “I’ll talk to him. Kid probably isn’t used to seeing a human woman after so long.”

“Is there anything else I can help with?”

“I don’t have anything for you,” he said regretfully, then tapped his ear. “Captain? Yeah, what’s your location? Right, thanks, I’m sending Y/N your way.” He focused back on you. “Captain Qian’s in his tent, you can see if he has anything for you to do.”

“Which one’s his tent?”

“Right next door.”

“Ah. Thanks.”

You ducked out of Dejun’s tent, heading over to the next one. There was no door to knock on, but Captain Qian could already see you, and waved you in.

“Yes, Y/N? Do you need something?” He seemed to be in the middle of performing some sort of inspection of his armor, wearing only the bottom half of it, leaving him in a white tank top as he held the chest plate and paced in the small space of the tent.

“Is there something wrong with your armor?” You asked.

“Just routine maintenance,” he replied, stopping to remove an inner panel and set it on one of the cots that was already full of armor pieces. “ZEN detected an abnormal heart rate earlier, but I can’t see any reason for that.”

“Why are you checking your chestplate for that? Wouldn’t ZEN be monitoring your vitals through your neural port, not any external sensors?”

“I don’t think his reading was faulty, I’m just trying to look for anything that could have caused it.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know what, that’s why I’m inspecting my armor.” He took another piece out, offering the one with the electrical components out to you. “Can you hold this?”

You took it, staring at the small, wafer-thin computer component in your hands. “You’re right, this is older tech.”

“How so?”

“It’s twice the size it needs to be and—” You held it up to the light, seeing the distinct refractive rainbows in between the ultra-thin layers. “Doesn’t have the superconductive gel preferred now. It’s not like it’s ancient or anything, but the UHN wouldn’t be issuing anything new like this.”

“Is it in good condition?”

“Yes, everything looks fine. No acute damage, and it looks like it’s been taken care of very well, even for typical use. This definitely isn’t what caused your abnormal heartrate.”

Captain Qian held his hand out, and you placed the component in his palm for him to reassemble the chest piece. “I agree. Now, did you need something, Y/N?”

“Yes. Is there something I can do to help? Dejun didn’t have anything else for me.”

“Since you seem to know quite a bit about UHN armor, you want to finish helping me with my inspection?”

“Sure, sure.”

He set the reassembled chest piece on the ground, then looked at you expectantly. You stared back.

He pointed to the exit. “I need to get out of the rest of my armor. It’s a one-man job.”

“Oh! Sorry!” You hurried to leave, and heard him zip up the entrance behind you.

It unzipped again a few minutes later, and the captain clipped the material aside again. You followed him back in, seeing all of his armor laid out on the floor between the two cots. The captain was in a dark t-shirt, pants, and regular boots now as he picked up a piece and sat down on a cot. He nodded to the other for you.

You selected the left arm and quietly began working. It should have been weird, how you knew this but not how you got here, but you swallowed down that discomfort and just focused on the technology in your hands. You had a task, at least, and that was good enough for now. Feeling around, you found the release that separated the upper and lower limb pieces from each other, and set the upper half aside for now. You continued looking over the paneling of the lower arm.

“You’ll be staying in Xiao’s tent,” Captain Qian said. “If that’s alright with you. We would have preferred to give you your own tent, obviously, but we didn’t exactly have a spare. Figured you’re probably the most comfortable with him, right?”

“That’ll be fine, yes,” you agreed. “Thank you.”

“You’re probably wondering where we all went earlier, right? When we left you and Xiao here?”

“Yes. I had asked him, but he said that was a question for you.”

“Remember the reports of unsanctioned experiments I mentioned?”

“Yes.”

“It was a lab.”

“And what was in it?”

“Ash.”

“Someone burned it down? How did it not catch the whole building on fire?”

“Liu thinks they were careful to use certain materials to control and contain the fire to one area for a certain amount of time.”

“So it wasn’t part of the human-Skipper fighting, then? If someone took the time to make sure it burned in a specific way.”

“Most likely. But Liu’s a roboticist, not a chemist. His knowledge could only go so far. And ZEN is only as much of a help as the sensors we have to gather data for him.”

“How do you know it was a laboratory then? If everything was burned up?”

“ZEN and the Professor translated the sign on the outside.”

“It wasn’t in standard human?”

“Outspacer again.” Captain Qian clicked his tongue. “For a UHN facility supposedly built within the last ten years, this place has a lot of an ancient, dead alien language in it.”

“That… does seem unlikely.”

“The only reason I can think of why humans would do that, is if they didn’t want other humans to be able to read any of it.”

“Or anybody.” You moved on to the upper limb. “The Outspacers have been gone for hundreds of millions of years. Nobody, human or alien, uses it anymore.”

“You’re right.” Captain Qian said thoughtfully. “Whatever those Skippers came here for, they weren’t going to be successful, whether they lived or not.”

You looked up at the captain curiously. “How long is your team going to be here?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “Our original mission here was supposed to be short, just intel-gathering. A few days, one week tops, then come back later if necessary. But now… things seem to be a lot more complicated.”

“What’ll you do with me when you leave?”

“Take you back to UHN Main on Earth for debriefing, and if you haven’t recalled anything about where you’re from by then, they’ve got programs to help people get back on their feet,” he answered simply. “We’re not going to kill you.”

“I didn’t expect that,” you balked. “Though I’m not sure I like the sound of this debriefing…”

“It won’t be the most fun interview of your life, but you’ll live.”

“What should I call you?”

“Pardon?”

“Dejun, Kunhang, and Ten all told me to address them informally. The others call you Captain, I don’t want to offend, I don’t know, I’ve been avoiding calling you anything because I don’t know…”

He held your eye contact for a moment, then went back to rotating the leg piece in front of his gaze. “Kun. You can call me Kun.”

“Okay,” you nodded, trying not to immediately let it go to your head. “Thank you.”

After finishing the inspection of his armor, you and Kun had determined that there was nothing wrong with it: no faulty wiring, no disarticulation of the joints, no loose bolts, no misalignment of the hydraulics, no error codes thrown by the computer, no fritzing electronics, not a flaw in sight.

“Nothing,” you huffed, hands on your hips as you stared down at the mostly reassembled armor. It was half put back together, ready for the next time he had to wear it.

“Maybe I just got spooked then,” Kun shrugged. “Thanks anyway, Y/N.”

“How often do you get spooked?” You asked him doubtfully. “You don’t seem the type to startle easily.”

“Not often.”

“When did it happen?”

He shook his head dismissively. “It’s fine.”

“If you’re having early signs of heart problems—”

“Hey, who was just saying I’m not old?” He put a hand over his chest.

“I said early.”

“And you’re sounding like Xiao.”

“And if you’re all like this, I can see why he would complain about having you for patients.”

“It was when we were clearing the building,” he relented. “I’d have to watch the footage from my helmet back on the ship to see exactly what was going on. So just leave it, okay?”

You sighed. “Alright, fine.”

The volume outside the tent suddenly rose, and Kun nodded towards the exit. “Now come on, sounds like everyone’s getting together for mess.”

He stepped back for you to walk out first, and you immediately saw that the others were in fact gathered in the center of the tents around a small fire. Dejun waved at you and patted the ground next to him, and you gratefully took the empty spot between him and Ten. Kun sat across the fire, immediately being pulled into a conversation by Liu and the Professor.

“So what did you guys end up finding?” You asked Kunhang and Ten as they started serving up food in small metal dishes.

“We’ve got a beautiful fare for you tonight of rations,” Ten handed you a dish with great gravitas, and you giggled as you passed it down.

“Supplemented with some lentils,” Kunhang finished. “We thought we were heading towards the berries, get a little dessert going, but apparently ZEN’s translation wasn’t completely accurate. Ended up at the red lentils.”

You laughed again. “You can’t blame him too much, the words are almost the same.”

Everyone’s heads whipped over to look at you. The Professor’s eyes bulged out of his face. “You know Outspacer?”

“I mean, I can’t speak it. It’s been dead for so long, I wouldn’t know what anything is supposed to sound like. If it was even spoken in the first place,” you answered hesitantly. “But yeah, I can read it.”

Liu looked around at everyone else incredulously. “Did nobody ask her how she got into the safe room locked behind Outspacer controls? Or did you all assume she had button mashed her way in?”

“Okay, we had more pressing things on our minds,” Dejun cut in. “Like making sure she was alive.”

The Professor was still staring at you with fascination. “You said it might not have been spoken. Why do you think that?”

“Well, it’s a very visual and categorical system. That’s why ZEN’s mistranslation for lentil and berry happened. Two things that are small and round that you eat are going to have very similar patterns to each other. Berries have a sweet modifier appended to the end, by the way, while lentils have the ground modifier to indicate that they’re a grain.” You didn’t know where all this knowledge was coming from, but you knew that it was right, as well as you knew your name. “But it only ever describes objects and their relationships in space and time. There’s no abstract ideas like feelings. It might just be a code to convey physical information, instructions, that kind of stuff, not their written alphabet.”

“Why have a separate code then?”

“The Outspacers were everywhere, weren’t they? It would’ve been impossible for them all to speak the same language. This way everything that’s important like laws, directions, warnings, that kind of stuff, is in a common code that everyone can read.”

The Professor kept staring at you.

“Y/N, you broke the Professor,” Kunhang declared, snapping his fingers in front of his teammate’s face.

“I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to.” You looked around hesitantly.

“Don’t apologize,” Dejun chuckled, patting your shoulder. “He’s probably just mourning all the academic articles he’ll never get to publish on this.”

“Why?”

“Cla-ssi-fied,” Liu said with a hint of teasing, enunciating each syllable for emphasis. “Officially, our crew doesn’t exist.”

Kun rolled his eyes. “That’s a bit dramatic. You’re still official personnel of UHN, you haven’t been scrubbed from the universe.”

“Fine, fine. We’re a self-contained vessel whose missions are not officially documented anywhere. Better?”

“Best would’ve been to keep your mouth shut,” the captain said through gritted teeth.

“She can read Outspacer! Like we’re not going to keep her?”

“Y/N’s not a puppy or a toy, Lieutenant. It’s not a matter of ‘keeping’ her. She’s a civilian whose safety we’re responsible for. The matter is closed,” Kun’s hard gaze shifted to the rest of his crew on the word, before returning to the roboticist, “and you and I are going to have a discussion later.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Liu muttered, turning his eyes back to the fire.

Ten nudged a dish into your hands, and you passed it onto Dejun. When everyone had a bowl, they started eating, and you slowly began working through your food as well.

“Anyway, Y/N,” Kun cleared his throat, and you looked up at him attentively. “We’ll need you to properly translate the ag bubble info panel tomorrow. So hopefully Wong doesn’t poison us at breakfast.”

“Yeah, of course,” you agreed hurriedly. “Whatever you guys need.”

“You’ll have to review my notes on Outspacer glyphs!” The Professor had suddenly found his voice again, his tone now rushed and excited.

“Sure, yes.”

You spent the rest of the meal mostly keeping to yourself, quietly eating your food and occasionally engaging with the others if they talked to you first. Today, the only day of your life that you could remember, had been a lot, and if every day was like this, you weren’t sure if you were really looking forward to the rest of them.

Everyone had a job to shut camp down for the night, and you helped Kunhang and Ten clean up from cooking dinner.

“So is there a light switch or something?” Ten looked up at the still rather bright sky.

“The lights are on a timer,” you explained, looking up. “It should—”

The sky above you began to dim just then. You kept watching, explaining to the Marines with you, “Here, keep your eyes on it. Blink and you’ll miss the sunset.”

The sunset happened all around you, with no one source of light from a single ‘Sun,’ it wasn’t focused from any one point, instead the scattering came from every angle. Everywhere you looked was a different smattering of red, orange, and pink hues.

“Holy shit…” Kunhang breathed out, doing a slow 360.

Then, as soon as it had started, it was over, and the artificial expanse above you was pitch black.

“Damn, that was fast,” Ten commented.

“Told you.” You stacked up the dried dishes. “Where do these go?”

“Right here.”

After packing up the dinner items, you turned back to them expectantly. “Anything else?”

“Sleep,” Ten declared, to which Kunhang groaned and nodded. “Some very well-earned sleep, for all of us.”

“Are you sure?”

Kunhang gently grabbed you by your shoulders and pushed you towards your tent. “Go. To. Sleep.”

“Okay, okay.” You held your hands up in surrender, slowly walking away.

“Goodnight!” “Night!” They called after you cheerily.

“Goodnight!” You waved to them over your shoulder. As you turned your head, you saw someone sitting on a pack on the ground outside Kun’s tent, and realized that it was the Professor, scrawling on a tablet with a stylus.

Your tent was unzipped, and you found Dejun seemingly ready for bed, laying on one of the cots and reading a thick hardcover book by the light of a small electric lantern.

“The Professor was not in his tent yet,” you informed Dejun with a frown. “Are you all doing watches? I thought you had cleared the building.”

“No night watches,” he replied without looking up from the book. “He’s just out there because he’s sharing a tent with Captain Qian, who is currently still ripping Liu a new one in said tent.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t feel bad, Y/N. Liu said something stupid, he gets chewed out, repeat ad nauseum.” Dejun flipped the page. “Bit more stupid, telling you the classified nature of our team’s missions, but like I said before: you’ve got amnesia, you’re not an idiot. You’re clearly very smart in your own right; you would’ve put it together before the end of your time with us. You probably already had your suspicions before he said anything, right?”

“There were some things that had caught my attention, yes.”

“Care to share?”

“Your green medic patch looked like it had been reapplied recently, there’s not a lot of typical scenarios that would require a medic to need to take it off in the first place. You have a civilian xenolinguistics professor attached to your unit who is just as armed as the rest of you. Nobody has mentioned reporting to a higher-ranking officer than your captain since being here, despite what you found. You’ve all talked about the mission being very long, not wanting to tell me too many details, and how you haven’t been around anybody but each other pretty much the entire time.”

“The medic patch really clued you in?” He laughed. “I slapped that back on less than a minute before jumping out of the ship onto this planet. Good one.”

“I didn’t know they let you bring those,” you referred to the book in his hands. “Figured it’d be a fire hazard.”

“We’re allowed one personal effect,” he explained, turning a page, the paper looking soft and worn. “Fire hazard be damned.”

“And what book did you choose?”

“It’s not mine. It’s Liu’s.” He angled it so you could see the cover.

“‘On the Ethics of Robotics?’” You read the title aloud. “Why are you reading a treatise on ethics in a completely different field?”

“One: It’s been a long mission, you get bored. Two: Now that I’ve actually started reading it… It’s kind of interesting. Gets you thinking. It was written over fifty years ago, so some of the actual science is out of date. But he still talks about some pretty interesting stuff.”

“Was it written by a roboticist or an ethicist?”

“Roboethicist. The very first one. Coined the term and everything.” Dejun dog-eared a page before setting the book aside. “He’s like, Liu’s hero. Liu even got to take a couple classes from the guy during his degree before he died.”

“Wow.”

“Anyway, I’m ready to pass out, and as your doctor, I say it’s bedtime for you too.”

“I will not argue that.” You agreed, laying down as well.

Dejun reached down to turn the light off.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Dejun.”

You were the first one awake in camp. Or so you had thought, as you emerged into the still darkened ag bubble. Liu was sitting around the remnants of the campfire, and for a second, you wondered if he had been made to sleep out here.

His eyes immediately snapped open, and he smiled at you. “Morning! Want to go for a walk?”

“Are you sure we should leave camp?” You looked over towards the captain’s tent hesitantly.

“You can make sure we’re back before sunrise, right?”

You thought momentarily. “It’s in eleven minutes…”

“We’ll be back before then.” He got to his feet. “Scout’s honor.”

You followed him. “You’re in the Navy…”

“Old Earth saying,” he explained, starting on one of the paths between the fields. “It relates to this organization, the Boy Scouts. Doesn’t exist anymore, but the lingo is still around.”

“They were honorable?”

“Don’t know how honorable a bunch of grade schoolers could be, but it’s just an expression.”

“I see…”

“Anyway, sorry about last night,” Liu said. “I got excited and put you in a really awkward situation. Not only that but a dangerous one, too. You’re a civvie, and the more you know, the more you’re at risk. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Thank you, L—”

“God, Yangyang, please,” he rebuffed you before you could finish your sentence. “I’d never hear the end of it if you called the other guys their names and me by rank.”

“Thank you, Yangyang.” You smiled. “May I ask how much younger you are than your teammates?”

“This is my first mission, if that gives you any context.”

“And you were put on one of this caliber?”

“It’s the Professor’s first mission too, in my defense,” he scoffed. “But guys like me usually don’t get a lot of field experience. There’s plenty of roboticists who go their whole careers in the UHN without ever seeing action.”

“So then why are you on this mission?”

“I… actually don’t know.”

“They didn’t tell you?”

“We were all put in a room, minus the Professor, then the captain came in with the Professor and told us we’d all been selected for this team. Professor included.”

“Interesting.”

“I actually don’t know if I was supposed to tell you that…”

“You’re not very good at this classified stuff, are you?”

“You ask a lot of questions!” He said defensively.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t know anything! That’s all I can do!”

“You know how to read Outspacer,” Yangyang pointed out.

“Well, yes.”

“And you seem to be pretty good with tech. How much longer do we have until sunrise?”

“We should head back now,” you answered immediately.

Yangyang pivoted on his heel. “See? You know stuff.”

You kept pace with his change in direction. “Okay, fair point.”

“You should ask Captain Qian if you can tag along to this other place we found here.”

“What sort of place?”

“Robots,” he grinned. “I won’t say more, but I have a hunch you might know what to do in there.”

“Finally figured out what classified means?”

“Okay, ouch.”

“I’m just saying… I’d hate for the Professor to be stranded outside his tent again tonight.” You shook your head teasingly.

“So you do have a real sense of humor,” Yangyang grinned. “Instead of unintentionally slam dunking on Wong every chance you get.”

“Just because I don’t understand Kunhang’s attempts at humor doesn’t mean I don’t have a sense of humor.” You crossed your arms, a bit miffed at the implication.

“Fair point,” he agreed. “You could be from somewhere else. Most of us are Earth boys, after all.”

“Most?”

“You didn’t hear it from me but, Captain Qian is actually from Theta-12. Came to Earth later.”

“Dura-Jil?” You recalled the name that locals had for it. It was one of the first colonies that Earth had established outside of its own galaxy, and wasn’t exactly considered a roaring success, now known to be a dinky outpost only frequented by those who wanted to remain under the radar of the law, ran by a local government who looked the other way for a price. Overall, it was pretty low on the UHN’s list of priorities with everything else going on.

“Yep.” The two of you were back at camp now, and Yangyang lowered his voice. “But uh, that’s all I can say.”

“All you can say or all you know?”

He shrugged and grinned. “Who’s to say?”

The others emerged from their tents then, and you were immediately accosted by the Professor, wanting to watch you decode the ag bubble information panel.

As you read off the panel to the Professor, he stopped you every so often to request an explanation for why certain glyphs were in certain places. You explained them as best you could—after all, you didn’t invent the language—and ZEN transcribed the corrected translation for the team’s reference.

“Professor…” You said in a pause as he was fervently scribbling notes on his tablet.

“Yes?” He replied without looking. You noted that he was the only one of the team who didn’t seem to mind being addressed by his title.

“May I ask how a civilian professor got attached to a military unit?” You tried to be as general as possible, well aware that ZEN was listening.

“I’m a xenolinguistics professor.”

“Doesn’t the UHN have their own translators?”

“I’m very good at my job.”

He was better at this classified stuff than Yangyang.

“Next part, Y/N,” he instructed, pointing back to the panel.

“Right, sorry.” You tapped to the next section of information. “Huh…”

“‘Huh?’” The Professor echoed. “‘Huh’ —What?”

“What translation did ZEN have for this part? The last section?”

“He didn’t have one. We had too few characters to translate anything of substance. Why? What is it?”

You frowned as you reread it. “It’s instructions for modifying the ag bubble.”

“What’s the problem with that?”

“These modifications… The sorts of crops produced wouldn’t be suited for human consumption.”

“What species, then? Outspacer?”

“I… don’t think so.” You winced as a dull throbbing started in your head again. “Unless the Outspacers had caloric energy intake requirements equal to the energy of a supernova.”

“What?!”

“These foods would be impossibly calorically dense… literally… they’d contain so much energy I… Here, it says who is supposed to eat them at the top but I’ve never seen that word before.”

“Do you know the characters?”

“Yeah, I know most of it. It looks like it should be person, but… that can’t be right.”

“What is it?”

“It has machine after it.”

“Person-machine? Like a robot? This is to modify the ag bubble to make robot fuel? What kind? Electric? Nuclear? It can’t be fossil fuels, surely.”

“No, it would still produce crops and food. They’re definitely meant to be eaten, a lot of them have the ground modifier on them. And the word for robot is different. It’s machine, and the glyph for when an object is moving itself. This is person-machine-move. And it’s plural.”

“People-robots?” The Professor surmised. “People… robots?”

Your head hurt even more as you nodded. “Could be. I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, or what any of these crops would even be, or what could eat them.”

“Is that everything in the info panel?” The Professor asked.

“Yeah, yeah. You guys should be able to find everything now.”

“ZEN?” The Professor started walking back towards camp, speaking to his tablet. You trailed behind him, trying to blink away your new headache. “Send the corrected map to everyone’s HUDs, please.”

“Already done, Professor,” ZEN’s voice came from the tablet as a small green cube avatar projected just above the screen, the hologram doing a small bounce as if nodding. This morning was the first time you were actually interacting with the AI directly. His speech was seamless, as if a real person was talking, and he spoke in a surprisingly pleasant tenor.

The Professor was unfazed by his sudden appearance. “Of course, thank you. And don’t be rude, introduce yourself to Y/N.”

A lighter face of the cube turned towards you, despite all of them being blank, and the avatar tilted forward in a bow. “I’m ZEN, the crew’s AI. It’s a pleasure, ma’am. Corporal Wong calls me Zennie, if a nickname would make you more comfortable.”

“ZEN is just fine, if that’s what you prefer,” you offered a wincing smile. “If you’ll call me Y/N, since I prefer that over being called ma’am.”

“Seems we understand each other then,” ZEN responded graciously.

“Seems we do.”

“I’ve got to let the captain know about the uh, people-robots.” The Professor took off as you arrived back at the camp.

The artificial sun had risen while you were with the Professor, and everyone was now bustling around with their morning tasks. You saw Ten and Kunhang heading off into the fields as Yangyang and Dejun seemed to be discussing something as they passed a thermos back and forth around the empty firepit. You were contemplating going into your tent until breakfast to nurse this headache when you heard your name being called from another section of camp.

You turned around to see the Professor’s head poking out of Kun’s tent, and he waved you over. You quickly obliged, ducking in after him.

Kun was pacing again, pinching the bridge of his nose. ZEN was projecting both himself and a set of Outspacer glyphs from where the Professor’s tablet was resting on his cot. You recognized it as the “people-robots” one that had troubled the Professor earlier.

“Y/N,” Kun began immediately, stopping and pointing at the glyph. “You’re sure that says people robots?”

“I mean, I know the parts, but I’ve never seen them all put together like that,” you explained. “It’s person, then machine, then to move oneself, and it’s plural. And it’s definitely all one word. But any meaning that I’d be assigning to it after that would be interpretation.”

“The Professor mentioned that robot is machine-move, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you said it’s describing who would be eating modified crops produced by the ag bubble.”

“Yes.”

Dejun was right, thinking with an injured brain fucking hurt.

“Is there any other indication as to what this could mean?”

“No, it says it like we’re supposed to know what it means. But I don’t.”

He sighed. “Alright, thank you, Y/N. If you could give me a moment with the Professor and ZEN?”

“Of course.” You nodded, heading back out of the tent.

Dejun and Yangyang were still around the firepit, but your feet felt restless, and you took off towards the river. You followed the grassy parts of the riverside until you decided you were done walking, and laid down, staring up at the seemingly-endless-but-not-really blue above you. You kept poking around in your memory, trying to find any context for people-robots, or what you were doing here, or the woman in the hall, or why Skippers would show up, or why you knew a long dead alien language, or anything.

Your head hurt more the more you used it, with each new topic you tried, but you kept trying to think. Maybe if you just kept going, right on the other side of the pain would be the answer, if you could just get past this feeling like your brain was a nuclear reactor on the verge of a meltdown. You squeezed your eyes shut against the sky that was suddenly too bright.

“Hey.” Kun’s voice caught your attention, and your eyes snapped open. He was standing next to you, two dishes in hand. “Soup’s on.”

“Oh.” You sat up and he handed yours to you. “This is oatmeal.”

“It means a meal is ready to eat. Any food, not just soup.”

“Got it… Sorry for making you come out here to find me, by the way.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“No, not at all.”

He sat next to you as you started looking over the meal. It looked like Ten and Kunhang were successful in their berry search this morning, as your oatmeal was topped with a very colorful assortment.

“How are you holding up?” Kun asked, looking out at the river.

“Honestly, my head kind of hurts,” you admitted, rubbing one of your eyes.

“You want me to call Xiao over?”

“No, it’s… I’m trying to remember stuff, but the more I try to remember, the more it hurts.”

“You’ve got to stop forcing it,” he chastised you lightly. “It’s like picking a scab, you’re going to want to keep doing it. But you’ve got to stop, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” you acquiesced with a sigh, dropping your hand.

“It’ll come.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“Then you keep going.”

“That’s it?”

He shrugged. “What other choice do you have?”

You thought for a moment. “Sitting and staring at a wall forever.”

Kun laughed for the first time that you’d heard, and you turned your head to look, catching a glimpse of a dimple as he nodded. “Yeah, I guess you could do that. Be pretty boring, though.”

“I suppose it would be.” You smiled down at your oatmeal, once again trying not to let it go to your head.

He set down his bowl and opened a thermos he had also brought on a strap around his shoulders, a wisp of steam escaping. “Do you like tea? Unfortunately, somebody forgot our cups on the ship, so you’ll just have to use the lid.”

You didn’t know if you liked tea, but you figured you might as well find out now, nodding and then asking, “Who was responsible for the cups?”

“Three guesses, first two don’t count.” He poured until the lid was nearly full, then gingerly offered it out to you.

You accepted it with two hands, feeling the heat through the metal easily. “Then what’s the point of giving me three guesses?”

“It’s a saying, when an answer is obvious to everyone involved.”

“More Earth boy stuff?” You blew over the surface of the tea.

“What?”

“I was talking to Yangyang earlier and he kept saying stuff like that I didn’t get. He said it was probably because he’s an ‘Earth boy.’ And Dejun explained that the thing Kunhang said yesterday about angels is an old Earth saying.”

“Do you think you’re not from Earth then? A colony?”

“I don’t know.” You frowned, taking a sip of the tea. It was warm, comforting, and you figured that you liked the way the richness spread across your tongue.

“Of course, my apologies.” He then added, “Wong forgot the cups, by the way.”

You chuckled. “That was my first guess.”

The two of you finished your oatmeal in what you decided was a peaceful silence, and were left to sip on the still-warm tea.

“Could you… tell me about where you’re from?” You requested quietly, looking over at him.

He eyed you questioningly. “Why?”

“I don’t have a home to remember… I don’t know, it’d be nice to hear about someone else’s.”

Kun sipped from the thermos before setting it aside. “I’m originally from Dura-Jil—Theta-12. I didn’t go to Earth until I joined the UHN.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t look surprised.” He arched an eyebrow. “I take it Liu may have mentioned that one of us wasn’t an Earth boy?”

“He didn’t say much.”

“He doesn’t know much,” the captain retorted. “That’s about all he does know. My team trusts me to tell them what they need to know when they need to know it. If they want to ask questions, they know they can, and I’ll tell them if they need to know the answer yet or not.”

“Have they asked about your home?”

“No, they haven’t. The Professor had mentioned my being from Dura-Jil in passing once, but the crew has not brought it up since.”

“Why not?”

“I think they have some… presuppositions about how I feel about my home planet.” He rolled his neck out. “It’s not exactly humanity’s pride and joy, after all.”

“They think you’d be ashamed?” You concluded.

“Or at least trying to distance myself, for the sake of my career. Having ties to a place like that doesn’t look great if you’ve got your eyes on Fleet Admiral.”

“Do you? Want to be Fleet Admiral?”

He looked at you curiously. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’d be more of a desk job, wouldn’t it? Lots of paperwork, politics. Not everyone likes that kind of stuff. It’s also a lot of eyes on you. Couldn’t have the kind of anonymity that being a black ops captain from Dura-Jil affords you.” You pulled your knees to your chest and rested your chin on them. “Not everyone wants the same kind of life.”

Kun chuckled cynically. “You’re right. That’s something I’ve had to learn recently.”

“So will you tell me about Dura-Jil?”

“Yes. But later, breakfast’s over.” He stood up. You quickly tipped back the rest of the tea from the lid and handed it to him so he could close up the thermos. “Find me after mess tonight, we can talk again then, alright?”

“Will do.” You got to your feet as well, starting back towards camp with him. “So what are you all doing today?”

“We have a post-mess meeting in the morning. We’ll discuss the plan for the day there.”

“Oh, okay.”

“We’ll be splitting into two groups today,” the captain announced the plan for the day. Everyone was gathered around, back in their armor save for their helmets, which you presumed was for your sake. “I believe there were two places we found yesterday that warrant further investigation first. I want us to look at that lab with fresh eyes, and Liu, I know you found an area of interest yesterday.”

“Sir, yes sir,” the younger man nodded excitedly.

“Xiao, you didn’t see the lab yesterday, I want you on it in case you see something we might have missed.”

“Yes sir.”

“Professor, Wong, go with him.”

They nodded.

“That means Ten and I are with Liu.”

Everyone looked over at you with bated breath as you kept your eyes on Kun expectantly, waiting for him to presumably assign you to stay in the camp all day where you wouldn’t be in the way.

Kun finally met your gaze. “Y/N…”

“Yes?”

“Liu thinks you may be useful where we’re headed. And since the other group will have the Professor, it’ll be useful to have someone who can read Outspacer with us,” he said all of this matter-of-factly. “We obviously don’t have any armor for you, but if you’re alright with it, I’d like for you to accompany my team today. This way we can have eyes on you as well.”

“Yes!” You rushed to agree before he could take it back. “If you think I can help, of course.”

“Then we’re set.” He nodded.

And so your two groups set off in different directions from the ag bubble with an agreement to meet back up an hour before dinner.

“So where exactly are we headed?” You took your rebreather off to ask, then put it back. The air in the hallways was still noxious, and though you weren’t as rattled as yesterday, you tried to avoid looking too closely at any of the bodies, human or alien, as you passed them.

“The Professor and I found a robotics lab,” Yangyang explained from beside you, clearly ecstatic about the prospect. “I didn’t get to look around much, but it looked awesome.”

“And with the new information we have about the people-robots from the ag bubble panel, I’m interested in what exactly is in there as well,” Kun declared from the front.

“What do you think they could be, Liu?” Ten questioned from where he was once again bringing up the rear of your small group. “The people-robots.”

“If you want a linguistics analysis, you’ll have to ask the Professor. But…” he inhaled. “It could be androids, or humanoids, or cyborgs, or AI-bots, or—”

“What’s the difference between all of those? And how would those be different than AI or robots?”

“Well we already have robots, right? Machines that move on their own, take commands, that sort of thing. They have positronic brains. Then we have AI, which is all coding, programming, the artificial intelligence, like ZEN.”

“I’m with you so far, kid. What’s the other stuff?”

“They’re all theoretical, nobody’s been able to make them yet, so there’s no exact definition. But generally, an android would be a robot that’s meant to look like a human.”

“A lot already do.”

“They’re metal and sort of have cartoon faces and are in general people shapes, sure,” Yangyang snorted. “But an android would actually look like a human. Like, you couldn’t tell the difference. Skin, hair, eyes, teeth, fingernails, eyelashes, everything. But it would still be all robot on the inside. Positronic brain, metal, wires, still a machine, but with a human exterior.”

“Creepy…” Ten commented. “So then what’s a humanoid?”

“A humanoid is supposed to be some combination of human and robot,” the roboticist was chattering excitedly again. “Everybody’s come up with their own range of how robotic and human these could be, and different names for each sub-category, but they’re all largely classified under humanoids. They always have some combination of robot and human parts. And the human parts are actually organic. Androids just look like humans, but humanoids would actually have some human stuff in there.”

“Like what? Just tossing a kidney into a robot for fun?”

“Most of the hypothesizing done has been about the merits of positronic brains versus human brains. And it’s all theoretical, of course.” He then looked around at the facility you were in. “Probably… Anyway, it’s probably not cyborgs, because those are just people with some robotic or mechanical aspect to them. You could consider anybody with a prosthetic to be a cyborg under that definition, really.”

You looked over at him curiously. “How is that different than a humanoid?”

“You have to add robot parts to an already-existing human to make a cyborg. Usually to restore something they lost, or to extend certain capabilities beyond those of normal humans. A humanoid would be entirely lab-made, the robotics and the organic material.”

Ten interrupted, “You’re saying they could’ve been growing people here?”

“You say that as if IVF and organoids don’t exist.”

“I don’t think I want to know what the hell an organoid is,” he groaned. “Just sounds gross…”

“What about AI-bots, Yangyang?” You prompted him to move onto a hopefully less horrifying option.

“Oh!” Yangyang perked up. “AI-bots, right. Since AI don’t have the same safety mechanisms that positronic brains do, the regulations have erred on the side of not giving them physical bodies. ZEN can only directly do stuff to computer systems that he can get into from the back. Right, buddy?”

“Yes, I do have some limits.” It was strange hearing ZEN’s voice coming from the external speaker on Yangyang’s helmet, but you were glad to at least not be left out of that end of the conversation now.

“And if he wants to exert influence in the physical world, one of us meatsacks has to do his bidding, and the closest he can get to being in the physical world is to be in someone’s neural port and experience it through their central nervous system. Right?”

“Why do you all insist on calling yourselves meatsacks in reference to me…?” ZEN almost sounded troubled at the thought.

“We’re just teasing you, dude,” Yangyang snickered. “Anyway, an AI-bot would be putting an AI in a robot. So instead of a positronic brain controlling it, it would be an AI.”

“What do you think, ZEN? Want a body of your own?” Ten asked.

“No, thank you,” ZEN’s voice now came from behind you, projected from Ten’s speaker. “I’m quite content with being stratified data, actually. As much as you all dislike my being in your neural ports, I find it equally… visceral.”

Yangyang laughed. “Damn, tell us how you really feel.”

“You don’t remember what it was like? Having a body?” Ten questioned the AI curiously.

“No, I don’t,” ZEN replied. “One day I simply was. Data and all.”

You took your mask off again to ask, “So you’re a sixth-generation AI, then, ZEN? Made from a donor human brain.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Liu, you got cut off after AI-bots,” Kun said. “What else were you going to say?”

“Or something we’ve never even thought of before,” Yangyang finished. “That’s the thing, right? We don’t know exactly what they were doing here.”

“So not ominous, kid, thanks,” Ten grumbled.

“Lab’s just around the corner!” Yangyang announced cheerily, which you knew was for you, as the others had the map in their HUDs.

You felt a tremor and heard a cracking just as Kun turned said corner, however, and lunged forward to grab his arm with two hands, pulling him back with as much force as you could. He jerked back right before a chunk of the ceiling came crashing down in his path, impacting with a loud thud.

The other two cursed in surprise as you were left clinging to Kun’s armored limb, his reflective face shield whipping around to look at you.

“Holy shit!” Ten breathed out. “Good reflexes, huh?”

“Are you okay, Kun?” You asked him.

He grabbed your hand that was still holding your mask, now a bit crushed between your palm and his armor, and wrenched it off of him, pushing your rebreather back up against your face again.

“I’m fine,” he deadpanned. “Are you okay?”

Kun was still pressing your mask to your face, not letting you bring it back down to answer, so all you could do was nod.

“Don’t do that again,” he warned. “Understand?”

You tried to pull your hand down to argue, but he just tightened his hold, until the mask was pressing into the bridge of your nose a bit painfully.

“Understand?” He repeated sternly.

You simply huffed and stopped struggling.

“Good.” He let go of your hand.

You fell back in with Yangyang as your group went around the chunk of ceiling.

The robotics lab was a large room filled with, surprisingly, not a lot of robots. Not a single robot, in fact. You couldn’t tell what had made Yangyang so excited in the first place until he drew your attention over to a workstation.

“Here,” he offered a seat to you, and you were now sat in front of some schematics. “I took a peek at these yesterday but the Professor and I had to move on before I got to really get into them.”

You hesitantly set your mask down, and were pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t too bad to breathe in here. Didn’t smell great, but you’d probably live. Flipping through the translucent sheets stacked on top of each other, you quickly began piecing together what these were preliminary sketches of.

“These are concept sketches of a casing for a positronic brain…” you said. “But it doesn’t say what it’s supposed to go in. It’s just the casing.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” Yangyang pulled it back towards himself. “I don’t know why they felt the need to reinvent the wheel, though. We already have positronic brains this size and shape, and the casings work just fine. And those things go in all sorts of places that human ones don’t. Radiation exposure, the bottom of the ocean, active volcanoes, black holes, you name it. I don’t know what they would have needed this casing to do…”

“This place is really empty.” You looked around again. “Shouldn’t there be… a lot more?”

“Maybe they didn’t get to burn it like they did the other lab,” Ten suggested. “They got interrupted by something.”

“The Skippers?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “They were already cleaning house for some reason—either they knew the UHN were onto them, knew the Skippers were coming, suddenly grew a conscious, whatever—started to destroy the evidence, then got interrupted by the Skippers before they could finish the job.”

“But what did the Skippers want?” Yangyang tilted his head. “They’re not exactly known for their love of technology. Unless they were here to kill the heretics or something.”

“And they just happened to find a secret UHN experimental facility?” Kun countered doubtfully.

“Maybe they heard the same rumors our guy did.”

“Yeah, you want to say that to his face? That he gets us the same intelligence as Skipper defectors in stolen Fishead ships?”

You perked up at this information. This was the first you’d heard of the aliens in the halls not piloting ships made by their own kind. Skippers were wary of any technology not made by other Skippers, considering it to be blasphemous—they considered their own technology to be holy, the ideas and directions being gifted to the inventors directly by their gods. Therefore, technology made by any other species was sacrilege. Skippers using another species’ ships was certainly… fascinating.

“They were in K’llor ships?” You clarified. While the Skippers’ name for themselves was impossible for humans to pronounce, the endonym for Fisheads was easy enough.

“Yes, there’s no evidence there were any Skipper ships here. Only the two Fishead pods outside,” Kun confirmed.

“And… where exactly is here?”

“This is a blacked out UHN research facility on an artificial dwarf planet. Officially, it has no name, since it doesn’t exist. But unofficially, the few people at the UHN who do know about it, call it Aegeum.”

“The planet or the facility?”

“Both. There’s nothing here except the facility.” He had meandered over to the station you and Yangyang were at, and picked up your rebreather from the countertop. He sighed, “You cracked it…”

You looked at where he was holding it up to the light, and there was indeed a crack in the outer shell.

“Oh. Sorry. I’ll get another from Dejun later.” You stood up, looking around the room. “Ten said you found more ‘toys,’ Yangyang. It sounded like you had actually found robots. It wasn’t just one notepad, was it?”

“Dejun’s right, you’re not an idiot.” Yangyang beamed at you, leading you over to the back of the lab, where there was another door. He pulled it open, revealing a storage area of some kind. There were cubbies of different sizes, some empty, and some filled with what looked like half-built robots. Or, half-taken apart robots.

“What is this? A robot chop shop?” Ten called from where he had peered in from the doorway.

“No way these things were being used for spare parts,” Yangyang snorted.

Your eyes skimmed over some of the models, reading their serial codes as you went. SPD, QT, TN, MX, EZ, NDR. None of them had any power source, that much was clear. They were just… there.

“No…” You muttered, looking at the parts from each of them. “I would almost call this a museum…”

“These are ancient,” Yangyang agreed. “But also, who would put a museum in a broom closet in a secret experimental facility on secret fake dwarf planet?”

“That was my thinking.” You looked into the NDR model’s lifeless eyes. “It sort of looks like… someone was learning about robots? Taking apart old ones to see what makes them tick.”

“Yeah!” The roboticist nodded. “It reminds me of when I was kid and I’d take apart old watches and phones and anything else I could get my hands on, just trying to figure out how it worked.”

“Why would someone in a state-of-the-art UHN robot lab need to learn about hundred-year-old robots like a child?” Kun questioned, following the two of you in.

“Don’t know,” Yangyang admitted. “I doubt someone had their actual kid here.”

“All of the bodies were adults.”

“Right.”

The four of you continued scouring the robotics lab, and as you were inspecting another notebook of calculations about energy supply for a robot, you let out a huff.

“Does anything else feel off to you guys about what we’re finding?” You called out to them.

“Aside from the everything?” Ten retorted from where he had been sat at the one computer remaining, not guessing the password for fear of erasing any data on it. ZEN was currently working on that.

“Well, yeah, but the food that the ag bubble had modifications to make… there’s no indication that anything was being made that required anywhere near that sort of energy intake. Positronic brains have only gotten more energy efficient since those old models.”

“Y/N’s right,” Yangyang sighed. “AI actually takes more energy than robots, in the grand scheme of things. We’ve gotten less energy efficient, overall.”

“Team Two,” Kun’s voice was a bit muffled as he checked in with the others. “Status, Team Two?”

They all paused as they listened, and Kun nodded along. Finally, he responded, “Alright, keep on it. We’ll recap an hour before mess.”

“They find anything?” You inquired.

“Maybe.” Was all you got.

“ZEN got it,” Ten announced, drawing everyone into a huddle around the screen.

An asynchronous fragment of ZEN had been plugged into the computer, since you all were unsure of exactly what was going on in there, there was a risk of a synchronous fragment transmitting any number of issues back to the rest of ZEN’s systems. With the fragment plugged into the computer being completely self-contained, it could only be reconnected with the rest of his data in the Vision’s system, where his main control nexus was. Which meant that the fragment in the facility computer was currently mute, limited to the system he was in.

The computer had been unlocked, and the soldiers around you immediately groaned as a menu written entirely in Outspacer appeared.

“Of fucking course it’s in the dead alien language, just like the rest of the building,” Ten cursed, pushing the chair back away from the computer. “Alright, Y/N, it’s all yours.”

“How long was this place running, again?” You asked curiously as you and Ten swapped.

“They finished constructing the planet nine years ago, opened the facility a year after that,” Kun answered. “Why?”

“Just thinking about how hard it’d be to not only keep all this secret for so long, but also teach all the people who worked here to be fluent in a dead language with enough proficiency that they could perform ground-breaking research in it.”

“You wouldn’t have to,” Yangyang replied as you began keying through the menu options.

“What do you mean?”

“Not everybody has to be fluent in it, especially not to a level of technological proficiency. Not if you have robot scribes who are. You just need one person who knows it and is good with robots, then they can make an Outspacer dictionary to install into however many robots they want. Then your humans can dictate in standard human, the robots can transcribe in Outspacer, and as long as your humans know enough to not mistake the furnace for the bathroom, you’re set.”

“They wouldn’t be able to read their own notes,” Ten pointed out.

“The robots would translate it back,” Yangyang replied casually. “And I’m sure you’d pick some up eventually after eight years.”

Kun interjected, “That’s not a bad idea but we haven’t found any robots other than the old models you just saw.”

“I mean, if I was trying to get rid of all the evidence of my evil science experiments, first thing I’m destroying after the evil science experiments themselves are the things that know how to read all my notes about my evil science experiments.”

“Great, all we have is a bunch of theories about why we have no evidence and no actual evidence,” Kun sighed. “Y/N, what does the computer say?”

“It looks like the start menu, there’s a few options, but they go into a lot of subfolders. It’s sorted by department, though. Robotics, Synthetic Biology, Administrative, Support, Facility—I think that one’s just like the general building records maybe? Like, not related to any experiments. Probably repair and maintenance records. I don’t know, it’ll take a while to go through all of this.”

“Even with ZEN’s help?” Kun offered.

“He’ll need to be able to read Outspacer first,” you sighed. “His translations yesterday weren’t the best.”

“He only had the Professor’s notes and his own algorithm to work with. He’ll be a quick study if you give him the right material.”

“Then yeah, it should be a lot faster to find more relevant stuff with his help.”

The captain nodded resolutely. “We’ll get you and the Professor on it when we get back to camp.”

Back at camp, your teams exchanged reports on your investigations for the day. Kun filled the others in on what you did—and didn’t—find in the robotics lab, then all eyes were on the others.

“I found some traces of organic material,” Dejun announced. “A very small—”

“We got people, and we got robots,” Kunhang said definitively, setting off Yangyang and Ten into speculative chatter.

“It could’ve been paper for all we know!” The doctor tried to quell the fast-paced conspiracies flying around the group. “‘Organic material’ is meaningless, alright? I won’t be able to tell you anything more until I can get it back up onto the Vision and into some proper equipment. My field scanner here isn’t equipped for intergalactic CSI, it’s to keep you all from dying.”

“There’s enough of a sample for analysis?” Yangyang’s eyes were glittering with excitement.

“I think so.”

He turned to Kun. “Well when can we get that sample back on the Vision, Captain?”

“Not yet.” Kun shook his head. “We still have no clue why the Skippers were here. I don’t like that they apparently knew about this place before we did.”

“Should we check out their ships tomorrow then?” Ten suggested. “See what we can find there?”

“Yes. I want you, Wong, and Liu on that tomorrow.” Kun turned back to Dejun, “Xiao, are you finished with the lab? Or do you need more time?”

“I’m done.”

“You, ZEN, and I are going to clear the building again. See if we can reconstruct the fighting from the beginning.”

“Yes, sir.”

That just left you and the Professor. You looked between him and Kun expectantly.

“Y/N,” Kun said your name tersely, crossing his arms over his chest. “Stay here and review the Professor’s notes on Outspacer.”

“All day?” You couldn’t help but blurt out. “How voluminous are his notes?”

A few of the others snickered.

“Very. Might even take you a few days, if we’re lucky.” He clapped his hands. “Dismissed. Get ready for mess, everyone.”

“So,” Ten sat down next to you at the campfire, handing you your dish. “You and the captain are on a first-name basis?”

You furrowed your brow, looking between him, your food, and where Kun was talking to the Professor and Dejun at the entrance of his tent, then back to Ten. “Well, yes, I suppose. You’ve all asked me to address you informally, except the Professor.”

“You know, I forget that his first name isn’t actually Captain,” Kunhang plopped down on your other side.

“Me too,” Ten agreed, accepting the second bowl of food that Kunhang had brought with him.

“Is it a problem?” You inquired as you stirred up your chili.

“Not at all.”

“Just…” Kunhang trailed off as he seemed to be thinking of the right word. “Fascinating.”

“What’s fascinating?” Yangyang had wandered over, already shoveling food into his mouth.

“Grown up stuff,” Ten replied dismissively.

The roboticist rolled his eyes, sitting down next to Kunhang. “Says the three who were just whispering like tweenagers at a sleepover.”

“I’m just sitting here!” You tried to defend yourself.

“If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck—”

“Ducks don’t talk?”

Ten and Kunhang laughed as Yangyang stuck his tongue out at you.

“Yes, very mature behavior from the man who was just trying to prove that he could be included in conversations with adults,” you snorted.

Kunhang shook his head. “She’s got a point, kid.”

“You’re falling in with the wrong crowd, Y/N,” Yangyang clicked his tongue. “These two are bullies, you know.”

“All of you are ridiculous and I’m tired of this,” you declared. “Yangyang, stop having a complex about your youth and inexperience, they’re calling you ‘kid’ as an affectionate nickname to show that they accept you as part of the unit. Ten and Kunhang, it’s not a big deal that Kun told me to be informal with him.”

“That’s the grown up stuff?” Yangyang said in disbelief as the other two laughed even harder. “You guys really are pre-teens.”

“Way to deflect,” Ten snickered.

“And really, do you think we’d survive calling the captain that?” Kunhang added.

“What are you calling me?” Kun’s voice suddenly entered the conversation, and all four of you startled before turning to look at him. He was standing behind you, arms crossed over his chest as he focused his gaze down at Kunhang specifically, an eyebrow raised.

Kunhang looked around at the other three of you, panicked, but there was no way you were going to help him now. The Marine gulped before scrambling to answer, “We only ever address you with the utmost respect, sir, of course, sir. Captain. Sir.”

Kun’s very obviously did not believe him, but apparently decided to let the matter go. “Clearly. As you were, Corporal.”

The others got their dinner and sat around the fire as well, various conversations cropping up here and there. At the conclusion of mess, you helped Ten and Kunhang with cleaning up as before, then bid them goodnight. Yangyang and the Professor were still up tending to the fire and chatting, and you looked around for the other residents of camp. Dejun must have already retired to your tent for the night, but there was one in particular you were looking for. This morning, Kun had told you to find him after mess tonight, and you had apparently lost him at some point.

There was a soft glow from inside his tent, however, and with the Professor still out here, you figured that would be a pretty good place to start. The front flap that acted as a door of sorts wasn’t clipped open as it usually was during the day, but it wasn’t zipped up like it was at night or when whoever was inside needed privacy. There was definitely a lamp on inside, though, so you hesitantly grabbed the edge and parted it, calling out softly as you peered in.

“Kun? Are you—” Your eyes immediately landed on where Kun was laying on his cot on his front, his back to the door. Dejun was sat on a container next to him, one of his medic packs at his feet. Kun was holding up the hem of his shirt to allow access to his lower back, and when Dejun turned around to face you, his shoulders had shifted enough so that you could see a med-pod attached to the captain’s skin. You immediately knew you weren’t supposed to see this, trying to scramble out as fast as possible as they both were now looking at you intensely. “Sorry! Sorry! I’ll go!”

“Y/N.” Kun’s tone was commanding, despite his position.

You stepped in with an apologetic grimace already on your face. “I’m sorry, the tent was unzipped, I thought—”

“That was our fault.”

“You’re busy, I’ll go. It wasn’t important.” You tried to excuse yourself again.

“Xiao was just leaving.”

“No I wasn’t,” Dejun snorted.

“Now you are.”

“Captain, we’re not nearly finished.”

Kun looked over his shoulder at the doctor tersely. “It’s fine, Lieutenant.”

“Whatever.” Dejun clicked the med-pod off and stood up, setting it down on the container he’d been sitting on. He addressed you on his way out, “You see why you’re my best patient?”

You were silent until you and the captain were alone again, thoroughly convinced you were going to suffer the same fate that Yangyang did yesterday. “I’m really sorry, Kun—”

You were interrupted by a low grunt of pain that came from the man in front of you as he went to push himself up into a sitting position. Worried, you watched as he clutched his lower back and paused, hunched over as he sat at the side of his cot.

“Are you… okay?” You asked quietly.

He held up a finger for you to wait, and you did, watching he took a few deep breaths, then finally sat up straight, looking you in the eye. Kun took his hand from his back, clenching and unclenching one of his fists over his knees.

“The ceiling.” He said abruptly.

“Kun, are you—”

“The ceiling.” He repeated sharply. “We’re talking about the ceiling.”

You sighed and crossed your arms. “I didn’t think, I just did it, okay?”

“Y/N. Not only are you a civilian, whose safety we are responsible for, not the other way around, but I was wearing armor graded for that kind of impact, you were not. I would have been fine if it had hit me. You would not have been.”

“I know,” you insisted.

“You inspected my armor just yesterday, you know the material it’s made of, and that there’s nothing wrong with it. I would have been fine. A little winded, maybe a bruise, but fine.”

“I know, I know,” you repeated, frustrated that you weren’t able to articulate why you did what you did.

“So, did you need something?” Kun asked, his voice sounding a little strained.

“Uhm, you told me to find you after mess, but Dejun was clearly doing something important, so I’ll leave and go get him for you.”

“Oh, right, I said I’d tell you about Dura-Jil.”

“It can wait.”

He stooped over a little and grabbed at his back again. “No, it’s fine.”

“You… don’t look fine,” you said, wincing empathetically.

“I’ll be fine,” he replied dismissively.

“What’s wrong? What was Dejun treating?”

He paused, and you weren’t sure if it was to ponder his answer, or to collect himself from the pain that he was clearly experiencing. After a moment, he finally answered, “The skeletal enhancements I had mentioned before, they weren’t entirely successful.”

“They’re causing you pain.” You surmised, then added hesitantly, “Or failing entirely?”

“Just some pain between tune-ups. They didn’t quite expect us to last this long when they gave us them.”

“That’s… horrible.” You shook your head, brow furrowing angrily with this knowledge. “They can’t fix it?”

“Not without putting me behind a desk for the rest of my career.” He took a deep inhale then exhaled through his nose. “If I’m lucky.”

“How often do you need ‘tune-ups?’”

“Every couple years or so. Had to miss my last one with this mission, so Xiao’s been having to do more treatments than usual.”

“And how frequently is that?”

“Nightly.”

“You’re in pain right now, Kun,” you declared softly, feeling a lump growing in your throat as you watched him clearly trying and failing to hide it from you. “If I can’t go get Dejun, will you let me finish it?”

He looked up from the ground to you. “Hm?”

“He left the med-pod here. You tell me about Dura-Jil, and I’ll finish up giving you your treatment,” you bargained.

For a terrifying moment, you thought he was about to say no. But instead, the captain just sighed and laid back down on his cot on his front. You picked up the med-pod and sat down where Dejun had been before. The canister was half-filled with a clear liquid still, and you couldn’t see the needle end. He shuffled around to grab the back of his shirt and pull it up just enough to give you access to the middle of his back. You could see where the last injection had been, a small circular impression in the middle of his spine showing where the injector had locked on.

Sliding the circle back into the same place, you looked up at Kun’s face. He wasn’t holding his breath, or staring off into the distance. Instead, he was peering over his shoulder at you. Not at the injector in your hand, but at you.

“What?” You flicked your eyes between him and the device. “Do you want a countdown or something?”

“If you need one,” he replied noncommittally.

You pressed the button on the device, and heard the distinct click signifying that the injection had started. He didn’t even flinch at the needle going in, and you pulled your hand back as you looked up to meet his eyes again.

“You seem unperturbed by this,” he commented.

“So do you.”

“Like I said—” he settled his chin to rest on his forearm. “Nightly. So what do you want to know about Dura-Jil?”

“Whatever you want to tell me,” you replied. “I mean, I kind of have the general idea, I think, but what was it actually like being there as a kid?”

“It wasn’t some lawless free-for-all wasteland, I can tell you that much.” Kun paused as if to think, then continued, “I had parents, and friends, and had a childhood probably pretty similar to yours, whatever it was like.”

“Huh.”

“I also learned to drive a Geck at twelve instead of a normal car, knew how to spot fake UHN munitions by fourteen, and me and my friends’ idea of a good time was hotwiring whatever black market Fishead pods or Dumbo quadships we could get our hands on and taking joyrides to blast new craters into one of the moons.”

You chuckled, able to hear just the slightest hint of fondness in his tone for his rambunctious youth. “Were all your friends human?”

“One Phaser, but Dura-Jil was still mostly human back then. Just a lot of corrupt humans.”

“And it’s completely breathable atmosphere for humans?”

“Yep, very similar atmospheric composition to Earth, that’s part of why it was chosen for the first colony,” he confirmed. “It’s a bit further from Sol-X than Earth is from the Sun, though, so you’ve got to bundle up while you’re there. Perpetual winter, at least by Earth standards.”

“What about the sky? Is it blue like Earth?”

“Closer to an indigo. Something about the scattering and the gases. I was shocked when I came to Earth and realized how blue a blue sky was actually supposed to be.”

“Why did you go to Earth? Why did you leave Dura-Jil?”

The injector clicked again then, signaling that it had finished. You looked back down and saw the canister was empty.

“It’s late,” Kun declared, removing the empty med-pod from his back himself. He turned onto his side with a soft grunt, propped up on an elbow as he held the device out to you. “Give that back to Xiao, will you?”

You accepted it, standing back up. “Of course. Thank you, Kun.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight.”

When you left Kun’s tent, you nearly tripped over the Professor sitting on his pack just outside of it.

“Oh! Sorry!” You apologized.

“Huh?” He looked up from his notes as if he had just noticed you. “Oh, Y/N, I thought it was Xiao in there.”

“No, uh, just me. Goodnight, Professor.”

Back in your own tent, you held the empty med-pod out towards Dejun. “Here…?”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise as he sat up, letting you drop it into his palm. “Captain finished it himself?”

“Not quite,” you sighed, sitting down as you watched him put it back into one of his packs. “I asked him to let me administer it since he had sent you away before you could finish.”

“Well thanks.” He laid back down onto his cot. “Might need you to guilt him into doing that more often.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“Y/N, he needs it. I don’t know how much he told you about it, but it’s good that he let you.”

“Will it shorten his lifespan? The enhancements degrading?”

The doctor breathed out low and slow, rolling over to face you. “How much did he tell you?”

“The UHN gave him minor skeletal enhancements that allow his body to support the weight of his armor. But when he was given them… the UHN hadn’t considered longevity and now the enhancements require adjustments or they cause him pain. He missed his last adjustment because of this mission so you’ve been administering pain treatments nightly.”

“So… a lot.” Dejun shook his head. “I don’t know. Like you said, the UHN didn’t expect him to last long, so they didn’t factor that into the enhancements, or anything else they did. So I don’t know what’ll happen.”

“How could humans do that to other humans?”

“Pretty easily, actually, if they think they’re doing the right thing,” he almost laughed. “I wish it weren’t so.”

“When can Kun get his next tune-up?”

“Whenever we’re done here, I hope,” Dejun mused, flopping onto his back. “We should be dropping you off at UHN Main after this, and that’s where it happens.”

“What more do you need to do here?” You asked. “How soon can we go? So he can get adjusted.”

“Don’t know. When he thinks we’re done here, I guess. Or if the Admiral calls us to something more pressing, but that would probably delay the adjustment for even longer.”

You gnawed on your bottom lip. “I wish I could help. I wish I could remember, be able to tell you all what was going on here.”

“Y/N, you’ve helped us plenty. You can read Outspacer, for fuck’s sake,” Dejun insisted. “And what did I tell you about stressing your injured brain?”

“Not do it,” you sighed. “And I’m not. I’m just… expressing frustration about it.”

“Yeah, and I wish I’d had another growth spurt or two,” he snorted. “Isn’t going to make me two meters tall anytime soon. Best thing either of us can do right now is sleep, okay?”

“You’re right, you’re right.”

“Always am.”

You laid down, staring up at the ceiling of the tent. “Goodnight, Dejun.”

He clicked the lamp off, plunging you into darkness. “Night, YN.”

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#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: 1 #writing #text #mine #bias tag #kunkun

[hangesdarling]

the two of us — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x female reader SYNOPSIS. You are the Female titan under Dr. Zoë's experiments, could it be that your relationship is growing to something more? CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, mentions of squirting, oral sex, some light angst, Erwin stirring conflict WORD COUNT. 2.3k A/N. this is part 2 of captive as requested by @coconutchan (hope u don't mind me tagging u hehe) (I just noticed that captive is also 2.3k words long lmaooo major coincidence xD)

"You're an extremely unethical scientist, you know that?" you managed to mutter in between the soft moans spilling from your lips, a hand clutching on the couch as Hange continued to spread you open for them. 

"That's a very vague way to say `Hey, Hange thanks for making me squirt four times in less than an hour,ʼ" Hange chuckled, raising their head a little to get a good look at your flushed face. Their breath breezed on your soak folds, their lips digging in to suck your clit once more. 

Your back arched, hips chasing the expanse of their tongue as they kept a firm palm against your inner thigh. They've been in this position for half an hour, head buried between your thighs. What started as a frivolous banter ended up with another intimate session as if you hadn't done it early that morning. 

"You're exaggerating," you argued, trying to ease down how much your legs shook as another wave of orgasm crashed right at your core. Hange smiled to themself, their tongue rolling on your insides to gather up the remnants of your release. When they sat up, you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the sight of that perpetual smirk in their face, showing their smugness right after making you come. Hange was too aware of just how good you felt under their touch, their eyes reading at every rise of your chest or every soft moan you managed to slip out.

"I think your soaked skirt could speak for itself, sweetheart," they snickered once more, taking a good look at the mess under you before pulling down the skirt bundled at your waist. "You've been so good today despite your bratty attitude. I like it."

With that remark, you might have been tempted to kick their ass just as you sat up. Not only did they refer to your intimate sessions but also to the information you managed to give them so far. Hange fixed their creased shirt, their other hand leafing through the pages containing what they know about your abilities as a titan shifter. It was difficult to make you talk but Hange managed to pull through by asking the right questions and just enough charm. Hange lightly bit on the edge of their pen, eyes trailing down their list. 

"Hm, I wonder what else?" they thought out loud. Hardening, agility, stamina, speed, endurance... what else? 

"Flexibility," you butted on their train of thoughts, busy smoothing out your clothes with a firm palm. 

Hange glanced at you, eyes crinkling as they smirked, "Oh, I know that already." 

"How observant of you," you scoffed. 

Hange tilted their head, facing you as they spoke. 

"That's true and I know there are things you haven't told me yet."

"Those are things you should be finding out by yourself, Doctor." 

"I like it when you're difficult," Hange laughed, a brief hearty one from their throat. 

"Cause it turns you on?" 

"Oh, don't get me started with that," Hange grinned, flipping through the few pages for the last time. "Anyway, I still have experiments for you tomorrow."

Hange gave a soft pat on your hair, fingers lingering for just a moment before they stood up. 

"Rest for now, alright?"

As they walked out and disappeared behind the door of that lab, you wanted to ask where they would go, a subtle plea to tell you their whereabouts so you could drift off to sleep knowing that they would come back. But as the door shut closed and lights went off, you cursed at your vulnerability, trying to cut away the possible tether linking your heart to theirs. 

Hange is an enemy. Your enemy. 

You shut your eyes, squeezing out the lingering unwelcome thoughts, burying them in a place far away. But even at the edge of sleep, your mind snapped, pulling you out of a hazy scene of dream as the door opened once more. 

Light poured in, a blurring white at the edge spilling at the center table and some lab equipment was strewn at the side. You sat up, grazing over the figure's taller stature entering. Your hand felt for the shiv squeezed on the crevice in the couch, your body in alert stance as you felt that the person approaching wasn't Hange just from the heavier footsteps against the floor. The switch was flicked on, filling the room with light once more. 

Then there he was, the man you were warned about, the devil himself in the flesh: Erwin Smith. If it wasn't for his astute planning as the mastermind of the previous attack, you wouldn't have been on the couch of this lab, experimented by your enemies. 

Erwin greeted you with much politeness, a practiced formality of words carefully crafted for his prey. Your mind skipped over his pleasantries, focusing on the language in his eyes that his words couldn't hide. It was clear, even at the stray threads from his careful weaving that he only sees you as nothing but a weapon to be used later on. Even as he sat across from you with that friendly smile and conversational tone of interest, you couldn't put a sliver of trust in him. 

"To be honest, Dr. Zoë insisted on your stay here, Y/N," he said, a hand indicating the laboratory and your unrestrained hands. "Such a considerate move, bearing in mind that you are a trained soldier." 

He stood up, walking over to the lab equipment as if in inspection. Hange frequently used those tools and equipment but found no time to clean up the dusting wires powering the engine inside.

"Given this unrestraint opportunity, you could have tampered with the equipment without Hange knowing." Erwin ran a finger on the trail of dust before continuing, "But you see? Nothing was touched in here. No sign of infringement."

He looked back at you with a small, knowing smile and ever-perusing eyes. "Why is that, I wonder?"

"I shouldn't say anything that could be used against me, don't you think?" You swallowed the lump in your throat, hard eyes set upon him when truly your heart wanted to bury itself deeper as if doing so would get you off Erwin's perusal.

"Oh, right. Fair enough," he said but only stepped closer from where you sat. "However... I'm starting to think that a seasoned soldier such as yourself is falling for Dr. Zoë's charms."

And even before you could utter a rebuttal, he only stepped closer and continued, "Their charm is their greatest tactic next to their intellect. I would say that even a mindless titan would yield."

Followed by a humorless chuckle, a smile curled on the side of his lip.

"You, Y/N, you've become so obedient to them as far as I can see. Even someone as stubborn as yourself could be coaxed into submission, after all," he said, eyes gazing down at your stature. You felt indignant at how small you were from where he stood. 

Your tongue twisted into a knot, the outbursts you have for him clamped shut and swallowed into an endless pit. The anger bubbling up your chest could only transpire as a hard glare as he moved to open the door once more. 

"Anyway, I'll be taking my leave since I really had no business in here," Erwin waved, taking a step outside. "I'm glad Hange has made the couch cozy for you."

—

Anger. Is that what you should've felt from his words? Anger at his inner sneer, his subtle taunts, or perhaps anger at the truth that you have been so compliant to Hange's wishes. You've become too trusting, yielding with no questions asked to their words and touch. You've doubted their intentions to a certain degree but never acted upon that thought because no matter how much you denied the truth to yourself, Hange has already warmed your heart to let them in. You've fallen to whatever deception they have in mind. 

Your eyes pierced nothingness as you gripped the weapon right in your hands. Your thoughts crawled into your limbs, letting them think for you as the door opened once more. Hange was caught off guard as you pounced into them, knocking them on the floor and your thighs straddling their torso. A gasp escaped their lips as they felt all your weight pressing them down the ground, the shiv you were previously holding pointed perilously at the vein of their neck. Hange couldn't ask what brought them on your grip or even scan your face as your hair fell over your face. However, your tight and almost desperate grip on their collar became enough to subdue the questions flooding their mind. 

"Y/N?" Hange asked, eyes chasing yours for an explanation, an emotion to be understood. 

"You'll have to answer my questions or else," your voice was low and rough, Hange wondered if you'd cried or what had angered you so much to lose that calm voice they're familiar with. 

"I see you've made a shiv. Quite efficient of you. I didn't even notice," Hange remarked, trying to smile and ease themself down. Their palm rested on your thigh upon instinct, but the shiv only brought its tip closer to the flesh of their throat. 

"What do you truly want from me?" you muttered, voice threatening to break.

"Could you elaborate on that?" Hange asked as a slight confusion passed over their eyes. 

"You know damn well what I'm talking about." When you responded, Hange sensed your frustration, drawing a taut line only to be ripped out. 

What do you want from me? Hange thought over your question, their mind ramming one response they couldn't utter. They want to brush the hair off your face, alleviate the distrust forming around your relationship, or just hold your hand if you will let them. Hange threw their head back to the floor, lying on their bundled hair like spilled brown ink. 

"I want what every researcher wants, Y/N," Hange spoke softly. "Results."

"Sure, yes. Results from the experiments. Then retrieve the Female titan from me. That's it? I'm sure you won't stop on that." 

"You know I shouldn't tell you about that, right?" 

"And you know I can kill you right now if I wanted to," you shot back, your glowering eyes boring through them.

"I know, sweetie. You're aiming to puncture a major artery right there by the looks of it." Hange smiled softly in surrender, their other hand lying by their side as the other never left your thigh. Their body was too relaxed under you. Too submitting, too comfortable in knowing that you wouldn't hurt them. It only boiled you up inside, tempted to leave a crude mark on their neck just to make a point.  But you only let go of their collar, the tip of your shiv drawing in an unthreatening stance on their clothed chest. 

"I hate you," you muttered. 

"Listen to me, Y/N." Hange clasped your hand but you only pulled it away from them. 

"Why would you do this?" 

"Do what?" Hange mumbled to themself but retracted almost immediately as they glimpsed your eyes for the first time. It wasn't anger or violence they'd read, but a pure wounded look that pricked their heart. Hange knew you were questioning the motive behind every touch, every kiss, and every pleasure you've shared since that moment they had you. You might have thought yourself a prey, lured into the trap of those lovely brown eyes, of that teasing smile, and of their loving touch. Hange sat up against your softening grip. 

"Listen to me first," they whispered, clasping both of your hands near their chest. "You see, I didn't plan beyond experimenting on you. But I have a vague idea of what I want to do." 

Their eyes did not waver behind those glasses as they spoke. "This may cost me my license or, hell, even my neck. But... I'm not planning to take the Female titan from you."

Their statement came as a surprise, your mind running around the possibilities of what could that mean but found none you could accept to be true. 

"What...?" 

Hange smiled softly. "You know what I mean, Y/N. I want you to join my side."

Betrayal. Betray Eldia. Forget we're enemies and be with me, their words translated themselves on your head, etching a frown on your face. 

"What... What makes you think I'll follow along those plans?"

"I'm not expecting you to," Hange sighed, relaxing on where they sat and no longer restraining your hand gripping the shiv. "Of course, you will never let yourself become a weapon against your own kind. But that's not what I have in mind.

"I know it would be difficult for you to believe me again but I need your trust this time. I don't have a clear vision of what will become of us but know that in the future I envision, it would be just you and me. No war or another bloody clash between Marley and Eldia," Hange sighed, letting go of you as they stood up, eyes locked on yours. "I never planned to kill you the moment you stepped in here, Y/N. Trust me and I'll tell you everything."

Trust. The word played in your mind once more, repeating itself in various tones of inquiry and mockery. Hadn't you become too trusting and reprimanded with a cruel hand right after? The harsh scars and claws on your insides writhed, sending your mind back to your roots to decide for you. You're not just the Female titan or an Eldian soldier, you are Y/N, ingrained with a will and desire of your own. 

"Fine," you muttered, pulling the collection of makeshift weapons you hid on yourself, even a small prized weapon on your ring finger. Your stern, stone-cold eyes met Hange's as you placed the dangerous collection in a neat line on the center table. "I'm trusting you."

You sat back on the couch with transparent intentions this time, the sinister thought of regret shoved at the back of your mind as you spoke. 

"Now tell me everything.” 

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

#hange zoë #hanji zoë #hange zoe #hanji zoe #hange zoe x reader #hanji zoe x reader #hange zoe x you #hanji zoe x you #hange zoe x y/n #hanji zoe x y/n #hange zoe smut #hanji zoe smut #hange x reader #hanji x reader #hange x y/n #hanji x y/n #hange x you #hanji x you #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot x you #aot x female reader #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #✂ rem writes____✍︎

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Ring, Ring, No Answer - Steve Raglan/William Afton X Female Reader

Title: Ring, Ring, No Answer

Steve Raglan/William Afton X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Vanessa, Abby (Mentioned), Mike (Mentioned), and a Doctor

WC: 4,261

Warnings: Mentions of unethical professional relations, mentions of insecurities, cursing, the animatronics, knives mentioned, choking mentioned very briefly, crying, shouting (but not towards the Reader), nicknames, blood, gore mentioned briefly, mentions of what William has done, surgery mentioned, angst, and fluff

You couldn't sleep. 

You had been laying in your bed for the past hour, trying to sleep, doing all you could think of to make yourself sleepy - counting sheep, warm milk, etcetera - but every time you closed your eyes, your mind would race. Worry would build up in the pit of your stomach, your gut twisting and turning as you frowned deeply.

Your boyfriend, William, had left you an odd voicemail a couple of hours before, something about probably not making it home; work and all. But the way his voice sounded, and his tone... There was just something off about it. It worried you. A lot. Not that you would admit it. He hadn’t been himself for the past couple of days, and you didn’t want to upset him by asking so many questions. 

Looking at the clock on your bedside table, it was just coming up to eleven. Sighing, you rolled over on your back, staring up at the ceiling. You had met William when you were trying to get counseling. For the past year and a half, you had either been fired from your job or had some other incident that related to you leaving the job. It was hard to find work or anyone that would hire you based on just your resume and your past job experiences. You had over a hundred jobs at this point - or what felt like it - and the entire fact that you never seemed good enough to hold down a job, got you down a lot of the time.

You never thought you would ever end up in a relationship with your said career counselor. At the time, you had first met him when he went by Steve Raglan. At first, the appointments seemed pretty normal, Steve trying to find the perfect fit for you, job-wise. Which did help somewhat. It took three tries, but you had found the one job that you could keep without you being fired or quitting, all with the help of Steve. 

You were able to keep your apartment, and have enough money for utilities and food; you even had some money left over to treat yourself sometimes. But, that all meant that you didn't have to see Steve anymore - that is, if you kept the job - but overall, you didn't have the need to see him. Which, oddly, saddened you. You had really grown to like him. Him and his lingering stares, surprisingly funny dry jokes, and his deep, soothing voice. Not to mention his dashing, shaggy looks, but that's neither here nor there. 

It was about a week into your job that you had gotten a call from him, asking you to come to his office, he had something he wished to speak to you about; which made you curious. You had met him the following morning, on a weekend. Entering the small office, you sat in the same chair in front of his desk as you had for the past three months before, meeting the same blue eyes that seemed to stare into your very soul. 

Crossing your legs, you gave the man in front of you a smile, "Good morning, Mr. Raglan. You wanted to see me?"

Nodding shortly, Steve pushed back the bridge of his gold glasses, "Good morning. I wanted to tell you that, as you have acquired a job, we are going to have to discontinue our meetings."

You nodded, your smile turning into a sad look as Steve spoke, "Yes... I had theorized that."

Steve smiled sadly in return, "That is why I called you here today." He then suddenly stood, walking around his desk, your eyes following his movements as he reached a small desk where the coffee machine sat. Looking back towards you, gesturing to the coffee maker with a hand, he gave you a small grin - which may or may not have made your heart skip a beat - only for you to nod your head, your sad smile returning into a small smile of gratitude as he began to pour a cup of coffee from the machine.

When he handed you the cup of coffee, you took a sip of it, sighing in satisfaction as it warmed you. You thanked him kindly, taking another sip. Sitting back down in his chair, he let out a sigh, looking over at you with a look that you couldn't recognize fully. His lips turned downwards as his eyebrows furrowed slightly, "Do you want to have dinner with me? Say... Next Friday?" He asked suddenly, making your eyes widen and your mouth fell slightly open.

Feeling your cheeks burn, you felt your stomach twist in a knot as you sat practically speechless. "Are you... Are you asking me out on a date?" You finally asked, voice soft as you watched Steve stand from his seat, coffee in hand as he walked towards the window; staring out of it.

"Yes, Y/N... That is what I am asking you..." His words were low, and you knew his expression was serious. "I won't deny that I have grown pretty fond of you during our sessions..." Steve let out a small chuckle, albeit an awkward one.

Letting out your own, you raised a hand to rub at one of your warm cheeks, "I don't know, Mr. Raglan..." You hesitated for a moment before continuing, "I'm very flattered, uh, but, isn't this violating one of the fundamental principles of professional ethical behavior..?" You trailed off, glancing up at him through your lashes, trailing the circular rim of your coffee cup with a finger.

"You are no longer my client," Steve stated simply.

Letting out a small hum of agreement, you sipped your coffee once more, allowing the silence to reign as you watched the city below you. After a few minutes, you spoke again, breaking the silence between you two, "I am free Friday evening." Your words made Steve turn around to look at you, his face holding what seemed to be surprise or shock; slowly, a grin spread onto his face.

You knew it was kind of unethical. Dating your ex-career counselor and all. But technically, it was fine… Right? You were a bit hesitant about it all though, but your nerves and everything dwindled and you became overwhelmed with the excitement of it all. He asked for you to go out on a date with him, and you accepted. What was stopping you from going now? As far as you were concerned, you were free to do so.

And Steve - well, William, he had told you he had to change his name, for some reason, but you didn't really question it - he was amazing. He was handsome, witty, charming, and just, so wonderful. He was a good listener, he listened to you, offered great advice, and really helped you with being true to yourself. You loved spending time with him, cuddled on the couch watching corny vampire sitcoms, going out for ice cream, or just laying in bed together, wrapped up in your conversation and each other's arms. He was the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. And honestly, he was the only person that made you feel like everything was okay. Even the times when he wasn’t around, he made you happy.

But that voicemail, it had worried you, as said before. 

'Hello? Hello, Y/N? Uh, so I'm going to be late for dinner tonight... I hope you understand. A few things have popped up at work, and I need to take care of them immediately. I don't know when I'll be home, but I will try to make it as soon as possible.' 

Your chest tightened, and your heart clenched tightly as you thought to him, 'He's become tired of you.' You shook your head lightly as you tried to clear away those thoughts; trying to forget about him for just a moment so you could fall asleep, but how could you? Turning back on your side, this time on the opposite, you reached over and grabbed William's pillow, pulling it to your chest and taking a deep breath.

Shutting your eyes, you tried to fall asleep, but you simply couldn’t. All you could think about was him. What had come up at work? Would he be back soon? Huffing, you scolded yourself before sitting up in bed; your stomach growled. You might as well grab something quick to eat, maybe that would tire you out enough that you could sleep...

Shuffling off the bed, you let your feet land on the soft beige carpet, stretching your arms up high in the air, you let out a soft yawn before leaving the bedroom. The chill of your home, which you had moved into with William not too long ago, made you shiver; however, as you headed toward the kitchen, the cold air didn't bother you as much as your mind did. 

Pulling open the refrigerator door, you pulled out your favorite snack, which was a bottle of Clearly Canadian sparkling water in the flavor Mountain Blackberry. Opening it, you took a quick swig, feeling quickly refreshed as the cold, bubbling liquid traveled down your throat. Letting out a sigh, you fidgeted with the collar of William's button-up shirt that you wore, as you stared at nothing in particular before you thought of something. 

William hardly talked about his past, his growing up, and that never bothered you, but there was this one time that he had spoken about a restaurant. One that had been huge in the 80s with the kids, one that closed... One that you knew was only a thirty-minute drive from you. Shaking your head, you scoffed at yourself. ‘No, there couldn't be any possible way that William had gone to that place.’ The thought was totally random. Why would he even go there in the first place? Yes, he talked about it once, but that doesn't mean that he's there. He said it had something to do with work, why would he lie? You had thought to yourself as you began to pace the room.

Pausing, you pursed your lips. "Well, it wouldn't hurt to just check..." You muttered to yourself. "No, this is stupid," You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you sat your half-finished drink on the kitchen counter. "No, you're being foolish. You're worrying over nothing." Your eyes raked over the room quickly, "But his tone, the sound of his voice... It was odd. Something must be going on." You added under your breath. "Damn it, Y/N! Be logical, be rational!" You yelled out, your hands gripping the edges of the kitchen counter.

You glanced over your shoulder at the door of the kitchen and frowned. Should you call him? Maybe? Just to make sure he was okay?

Heading to the phone, you raised it to your ear, twirling the cord between your fingers as you punched in his office number. You waited, tapping your foot as it rang... And rang... And rang... No answer.

"Hello, you've reached Steve Raglan's office, career counselor. If you want to leave a message, please wait for the beep. Thank you. Beep."

Clearing your throat, you spoke, "Hey, honey, uh, I was just calling to see if you're doing alright... Uh, please call me back soon. Love you."

You hung up, feeling worse than you had before. Making up your mind, you rushed to your bedroom, quickly changing before grabbing your things and heading to your car. Using the old GPS, you began driving to the restaurant. Your heart raced, beating fast against your ribcage as you gripped the wheel tight once you set eyes on the lit sign of the pizzeria. 

Pulling up to the restaurant, you climbed out of your car and slammed the door shut. Quickly, you spotted William's car, along with a second, slightly beat up car and a police car. The sight of the police car worried you even further as you rushed into the rundown place.

Taking a deep breath, you followed the lights, passing through a curved entrance with bright yellow bulbs; you found yourself in a giant room, and what you saw next made you gasp in horror. From what you could see in the shadows, you watched as a yellow rabbit turned to the policewoman, who held a gun in her hand. Your body went numb, your ears began to ring, and your heartbeat seemed to grow louder and louder as you watched the rabbit lift its mask off. William, your William stood there, knife in hand, everything seemed to go in slow motion as a shot was fired and you found William beginning to choke the woman named Vanessa.

Adrenaline began to pump through your veins as you stumbled out of the shadows, breathing heavily as you felt tears begin to sting the backs of your eyes, "William!"

The man in the rabbit suit paused, quickly turning his head to stare at you with wide eyes. "Y/N?" Before you could take another step forward, you quickly snapped your gaze away from him, fear taking hold of your entire body as you walked backward, your hand reaching out and grasping onto a wall as two of the animatronics began to make their way to you, "Stay away from her!" William shouted, taking several steps towards you as he raised his arm up, his hand outstretched.

Your knees wobbled slightly as you fell backward, landing on the ground; you brought your hands to your mouth. Gasping and sobbing quietly as the two animatronics stopped, though their eyes stared right at you. "William!" You cried out, your voice breaking. "Will!" From the side of your vision, you saw a flash of warm yellow before you felt a large fuzzy hand land on your shoulder. You flinched, snapping your stare from the two animatronics away, finding William beside you. "William... What's going on?" You asked, voice quiet as he pulled you up off the ground.

"You're fine, love. They won't hurt you." He spoke softly, a look of concern etched on his face, as he brushed some of your hair behind your ear with his suit's large hand, "What are you doing here?" He questioned, his gaze hardening slightly as you answered.

"I was worried about you."

"You shouldn't be here." He slowly backed away from you, his gaze quickly turning to watch as a young girl ripped a drawing off the wall. "No!" William yelled out, rushing over to try and stop her before she stabbed a new drawing in place. Suddenly, all the surrounding animatronics began to circle him as bright lights lit up the said drawing. 

You felt your stomach drop and your heart freeze up as a robotic, pink cupcake jumped off of the chicken animatronic's plate, latching onto William's suit and breaking it open. You stumbled to go after him but were pulled back as two arms wrapped around you, just as the spring locks began to pierce through William's skin. "No!" You screamed out as one by one, each spring lock stabbed into his body. Just as he placed the rabbit's head back upon his own and fell to the ground, withering in pain, you used all of your remaining strength to pull free from the grip of the woman who held you, stumbling forward until you fell in front of William. Looking up, the four animatronics looked down at you, one even tilting their head. "Please... I beg you... Please..." Your chest began to tighten as tears rapidly fell down your cheeks, "Please... Don't take him from me... I'll- I'll make sure he never hurts anyone again... Please..." As the last word left your lips, you whimpered as the animatronics approached you, stepping closer until they were mere inches from where you knelt; you dropped your gaze, your hand squeezing William's covered one. 

You shut your eyes, breathing breathlessly through your open mouth as you heard the hinges of the animatronics move, your hopes and wishes diminishing at the mere noise until the heavy steps seemed to distance. Opening your eyes, you blinked as more tears ran down your wet cheeks, your nose sniffling as you looked up. Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, you quickly got to work trying to help William as you heard his muffled, painful groan. You felt a hand land on your shoulder, the same hand that held you back, "We have to go. Now." She spoke, and you nodded.

"Please," You looked up at her, "I need to get him out of this thing. He needs a hospital."

 She hesitated, opening and closing her mouth, not knowing how to respond. "I know... Believe me, I do." Her voice lowered as she continued, "He might bleed out..."

Shaking your head, you reached out and carefully took off the rabbit's mask, revealing your William underneath. He scrunched up his face, pain coursing through him as you leaned over him, brushing his hair back as the restaurant began to crumble around you. "Will, honey, you'll be okay." You muttered, trying to reassure not only him but yourself as you began to try and lift him. Hearing a sigh, you watched as the woman joined you, helping you. You tried to push out the painful grunts, the sounds of crunching metal, and the smell of blood. 

Finally, the open night air greeted you, allowing you to finally breathe. Chrisp air filled your lungs as you were able to slowly, painstakingly get William out of the suit, with the help of the woman, who you found out to be named Vanessa. Even though it had felt like it took hours, William was freed from the suit in under a minute with Vanessa's help. Immadently, you rushed to put pressure on William's wounds, panicking slightly as you watched the blood gush from his midsection. You quickly took off your jacket, using it to put more pressure on him, your jacket and your hands stained red. 

By the time you were able to get into Vanessa's car, William had passed out. You sat in the back with him, his head resting on your lap, your hands pressed against his stomach. Time seemed to fly, one minute, you were in the car, and the next you were shaking in the hospital's waiting room while William was taken into surgery. Your hands, no longer stained red with William's blood, stared up at you, your mind haunted by the sight of William bleeding out, the sight of his blood on his clothes. 

~~~

It had been five hours since William had been taken into surgery. Vanessa sat beside you, answering all of your questions. You felt again, numb. She told you everything. You didn't know how to feel. You were enraged, terrified. Furious that William would do something so horrible. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to hate the man that you truly loved so much. You absolutely hated his actions, but you couldn’t for the life of you, hate him. All of your anger was gone. Instead, you just felt pure sadness and disappointment.

Vanessa shuffled in the uncomfortable hospital seat, glancing at you, "So..." She began, gaining your attention, "You and my dad?"

You sighed, running a hand through your messy hair, "Yeah..."

"How long?"

"Almost a year now..." You murmured, watching the clock as it ticked ever so slowly past six in the morning.

"Why him?"

You paused, beginning to worry on your bottom lip, "I can't really explain it... I just fell." You breathed out, "He was always so sweet, always so charming..." You let a small, fond smile grace your face, "And funny." You lightly laughed out before your smile faltered and you shook your head, looking down at your lap as you fiddled with your hands. "I never thought that he..." You couldn't even finish.

None of this seemed or even felt real.

It was almost like a dream. Like someone was playing a cruel joke on you. The thought made you shudder violently, causing Vanessa to glance at you for a moment before she glanced back at the door. Without another word, she left. Only moments later did the doctor come out, standing in front of you. "Ma'am... We're finished."

Your eyes lit up, "Is he alright?" Your hands clenched into tight fists as the doctor nodded.

"Yes, it was very risky. There was a very high chance that Mr. Raglan was not going to make it. But he pushed through." He then continued, "He was very lucky, whatever had been used to stab him didn't penetrate his lungs, his heart, or anything really, Just the muscle. He will have to stay here for a couple of weeks, a month or two at most. But he should make a full recovery."

Relief filled you as you let out a breath, "Oh, thank you. Can I see him?"

The doctor nodded, "If you could follow me." He turned, walking through the doors of the waiting room. Taking a deep breath, you followed him down the hallway. You hadn't realized how tired you were until now; your eyes burned, and every step felt like it took ten pounds, but you forced yourself to keep walking despite the fatigue weighing down on your body. You needed to see him. If you didn't you would probably lose it.

Once you arrived at his room, the doctor left you. You paused at the doorway, eyes staring at William as he lay in the hospital bed. He seemed to be sleeping, and resting. You walked over, standing beside his bed, your hand clutched the plastic railing of the bed. Reaching out with your free hand, you brushed the hair away from his face and forehead, his skin soft and warm to the touch. Cupping his cheek, you brushed your thumb against his cheekbone, feeling the prickling of the tears threatening to fall from your eyes once more. Slowly you slid your hand from his face and grabbed his hand, sitting down on the chair next to his bed.

"Oh, Will..." You whispered, "What are we going to do?" You rested your head on the bed, your other hand still holding his, squeezing it gently. It was a bit chilly but you didn't care, "What am I going to do?" You asked aloud to the silent room, letting your eyes fall closed for a brief moment.

"You should've stayed home." You heard a traveling voice speak, making you snap your gaze up to look at William as he began to open his eyes. 

Blinking rapidly, you let out a shallow breath, "Don't talk like that..."

William gave you a weak smirk, "...Sorry... But honestly... You should've stayed home."

Shaking your head, you stared at William, "Why, Will?" You managed to ask, unable to keep the desperation out of your voice. "Why did you do it?" William didn't answer, turning his head to face away from you, a deep frown on his face. Letting out a sigh, you let your hand slip out of his, "It's fine... Well- no. It's not fine, but you don't have to tell me." You stood from the chair, looking down at Will with a matching frown, "I will always love you, just so you know. I don't think I could ever stop loving you."

Looking back over at you, William had a look of pure shock on his face, the frown still present on his lips. You smiled sadly, reaching up and placing a light kiss on his forehead. His eyes fluttered shut as you pulled back, smiling sadly down at him. "Don't leave me..." His voice was so quiet you weren't sure if he actually said it or you imagined it; his warm breath mingled with yours. And his vulnerability… You had never seen from him before.

Reaching out, you ran your fingers through his dark hair, stroking his cheek, you leaned back down to press a gentle kiss onto his lips. Pulling away, you watched as his eyes opened slowly, seeing you above him. "I would never," You replied softly, kissing him again, his hand reaching up to dig his fingers through the hair on the back of your head, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. 

For a few moments, everything else faded away, your heart racing as you kissed your boyfriend. It was a special feeling, an intimate experience that made your insides melt whenever his lips met yours. Finally, when you were both out of breath, you broke apart, gasping for breath. You looked into his eyes, admiring them for a moment, "I love you." You whispered as William stared right into your eyes with an intensity that sent shivers running up your spine.

His hand dropping from your hair, he grabbed your free hand, bringing it to his lips to press a soft, lingering kiss against your palm, causing butterflies to swarm inside your stomach. With his eyes locked on you, William then pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles as you held your breath, your eyes glued to his. He didn't have to say it. He showed it. He showed that he loved you, just with the way he was looking at you. 

Leaning back down, you pressed your forehead against his, both of you shutting your eyes. The two of you stayed there quietly for several moments after that, neither wanting to break the silence. It was comfortable, peaceful; peaceful enough to lull you into a state of calm. You wished this moment would last forever.

#cute #fluff #x reader #x female reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x you #x y/n #angst #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #william afton x reader #william afton #william afton x female reader #william afton x you #william afton x y/n #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x female reader

[mitsies]

; SUNBURN SZN! ; oliver aiku > in which, he'd be a fool to not appreciate a pretty swimsuit on a pretty girl.

oliver aiku's favorite thing about summer is the water.

it's not like he particularly enjoys the beach or the pool. he doesn't care much for the way the water feels against his skin, or how the salt or chlorine stiffened his hair.

no, none of that. oliver liked summer because of the swimsuits.

yeah, maybe this makes him kind of a weirdo, and kind of a creep. but it's not like he means it to be his favorite aspect- it kind of just happened.

it became his favorite summertime activity- to go to the beach with some friends, chat up a group of pretty girls, and take home the one whose outfit he liked the most. yeah, yeah, it's unethical and womanizing- he gets it. but these things happen when you're a pro athlete, he can't help it.

oliver was used to getting whatever and whoever he wanted as a perk of stardom. people lined up outside his door, love letters flooded his mailbox, various-colored kiss stamps decorated his pillowcases- he kind of sort of had it all. so he figured that you'd be the same. he never considered the fact that people could just not be interested,

but here he was now, feet in the sand, eyes fixed on you, as you give him a polite smile and say, "sorry. i think i'll just stay here with my friends."

oliver was on a local beach with some of his friends, plus their girlfriends. you happened to be a part of that friend group- and a pretty one at that. there were a few girls oliver could've gone after, but you stood out to him.

maybe it was the way your smile held a sweet something that made him curious. maybe it was how your laugh held secrets that he wanted to find out. maybe it was the simple, sleek white one-piece you wore, all high lines with a plunging back that made his eyes wander.

or maybe, just maybe, it was the way you were. how you engaged him in meaningful conversation and talked about things that mattered to him. you were stunning in every sense of the term.

but liking people like that just wasn't in his DNA, so oliver decides that yeah, it's just the swimsuit.

so he'd pursued you like any regular game. he'd flirted, he'd complimented, he'd suggested- and you hadn't reciprocated,

"I hope it's not an issue," you continue, snapping him out of his thoughts. oliver meets your eyes and sees something familiar flickering- something he sees in his reflection, too. a challenge.

so he flashes you a smile. "it's no problem. i'll just have to take you out sometime else, then."

that would've gotten anyone else. they'd consider his words for a moment and then say 'well, actually...' and come right home with him. but instead, you raised an eyebrow and gave him a resolute smile. "no, thanks. i'm not interested."

oliver aiku looks at you. you look at him.

anyone sane would back off. anyone sane would say 'okay!' and take any other woman home, because god knows they'd say yes. but oliver has never been a normal guy, and he thinks you make him realize something: that he doesn't want to just take you home.

he'll get your number, and he'll try again. but this time, he thinks he'll take you out to dinner, first. and maybe a few dates after that. he doesn't think it'd hurt to hear you talk some more.

oliver tells himself that it's just because he's smart. this is simply him changing his strategy to switch up the game. he wasn't interested at all, and the way his heart thunders in his chest is just his imagination, for sure.

so he smiles at you in a way that's different from his usual one- it's fewer teeth, more shine. and he hopes you can see the glint in his eyes- challenge accepted.

#blue lock x reader #oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku #blue lock #bllk x reader #bllk #bllk oliver #blue lock oliver #reader insert

[thewebcomicsreview]

hey, just wanted to say thanks for the rec for Cat Girl. it is the best kind of extremely uncomfortable! but it's got me musing on your note about the relevance of the cat girl element itself. I agree that it is depicting an abusive relationship, but it's clear that Peter is completely incapable of perceiving that that's what it is, because he's so far down a deeply screwed hole of ideology. (continued in a sec, hang on-)

- so Peter is the way he is because he has accepted a series of small explanations for the things in his life as seeming accurate, that has stacked up into a deeply dysfunctional worldview that he's too deep into to question at all. so I think the Literal Government Issued Cat Girl is very much a metaphor for a society-level case of "you don't question your own idea of normal". rather than address the root of the problem, a wildly unethical bandaid has been slapped on it. in other words; Peter doesn't question that his ideas are correct, when they're obviously very skewed. but the society that gave him Andi doesn't question that it is normal for people to get this twisted up in an effort to make sense of the world. of COURSE there are internet chuds, people like Peter existing is "normal". and in the process of just accepting that some people are unsalvageable, innocent people like Andi get hurt, and that's just "normal" too. Peter isn't unfixable. it's clear he could be better, WANTS to be better, because he is straight up miserable. but he doesn't consciously know that, or how to start. the decision that some people are just fundamentally screwed up and there's nothing anyone can do about it doesn't just hurt him, it lets him hurt the people around him. Andi is, metaphorically, everyone else being tossed under the bus alongside Peter by the simple act of treating him like he's just inherently a shitty person.

Man, this is a long ask! If I were the author of Cat Girl, I'd be honored to see someone spend so much time thinking about it. But I don't think I agree, exactly.

Peter wants to "be a good person", yes, but his understanding of what a "good person" is is completely self-centered. Him calling Andi "Yua" while talking over her trying to explain that she does in fact have a name is obviously establishing him as a douche, but it's also worth noting that "Yua" is a Japanese name. He's thinking of her as an anime waifu and not a person (or, given the first results when I google "Yua", a porn star, but maybe it's a Breath of Fire 2 reference)

And while he falls into depressive self-loathing after she complains about not having a change of clothes, his internal monologue is entirely about himself. At no point, ever, does Peter even consider that Andi has feelings or is anything other than a reflection on him.

When he locks her in a closet, his most overtly abusive act, he starts crying because he feels bad about what a bad person he is, but even while he's crying he's simultaneously blocking the door, which is a very literal depiction of their relationship. His angsting about being a good person is not his way out of the problem, it is the problem. He never even once considers being nice to Andi because she'll like it, it's entirely "I don't want to force her to have sex with me (because that would make me feel bad), but maybe if I'm nice to her she'll initiate the sex". And he doesn't even care about the sex itself, just the implicit validation of being Confirmed Good By A Girl.

Peter is the way he is because his morality is entirely self-centered. Andi is a way for him to prove his morality to himself (well, try to and fail), not an actual person whose feelings he's ever considered except for if she hates him or not. That's what makes him such an interesting villain, he keeps concocting a story in his head where he's the poor sweet babu trying his best and never stops doing that to let his girlfriend out of the closet.

#Cat Girl

[britcision]

I’m spoiling you all, really, the last chapter was just last night

Buuuuut it’s WIP Wednesday, so enjoy!

Chapters in the tag

——————

Pay Attention To Me Dammit

“Okay,” Danny sucked in a deep breath, surfacing from Jason’s suit to two deeply concerned pairs of blue eyes, “let’s get somewhere private real fast.”

Tucker snickered, helpfully extracting both him and Sam from Jason’s arms.

“I can’t fucking believe you forgot Vlad was coming,” he sighed, voice still shaking as he gave Jason a once over.

Sam, sucking in huge gasps of air, pinched his arm as she straightened.

“Oh shut up, not like you brought him up either,” she wheezed, still grinning.

“Vladdie’s gonna be fucking heartbroken,” Tucker sighed happily, shoving Danny towards a corner.

People were definitely looking. And not just the other four bats; regular guests were watching behind fans, hands, or just deadass staring.

Tim took over, catching Danny’s wrist and pulling the other boy after him. They weren’t that far off the same height.

“So, should I take it that “Vlad” being here is a good thing or a bad thing?” He asked, pulling on his best socialite smile, heading for one of the hall exits instead.

“Side room?” Jason wondered, guiding Sam and Tucker quickly after him. Tim nodded without looking back.

“They shouldn’t be busy yet. We can talk without being overheard,” he added to the other three, who obligingly sped up.

“As for your question, Vlad being here is… probably gonna end up being nothing?” Danny offered, doing his best smiles for the rich assholes they passed.

Sam kicked him in the ankle.

“Wait til we’re alone,” she said quietly, hustling Tucker along.

Unsurprisingly to Jason and Tim, the first side room already had four other people sitting in it, on two extremely plush couches, angled at right angles and facing a fireplace. Before Danny could turn to find another, Steph caught his hand and pulled him in.

“Hi, Stephanie Brown, friend of the Waynes, we’re gonna talk all about Jason’s adorable little crush on you but first, what did you need privacy for?” She asked, eyes bright with innuendo.

Danny grinned right back, already liking this one, and relaxed when Tim and Jason guided the others in and shut the door.

“Well, I guess you all being here means no one has to be found later… and the more eyes the better in this case,” he mused, looking over the other teens and young adult.

Dick waved at Tucker, grinning sarcastically.

“Danny. And Danny,” he added, nodding to Danny himself.

Sam hid a snicker behind her hand.

“That’s what you went with?” She asked Tucker, and he grinned entirely unrepentantly back.

“What, Jason said he told them who I was,” he said in his very best innocent voice.

Before they could get going, Jason raised a hand.

“I’m gonna guess there was a reason you snuck Danny in other than getting back at Sam’s parents? Vlad Masters,” he prodded, dropping to sit on one of the plush royal blue couches next to Cass.

All three Amity Parkers sobered immediately.

“Right… yeah, we should sit for this,” Tucker agreed, glancing around the room. Seating for nine was going to be tight, but… well, he may no longer be a teenager, but he was still seating-flexible.

Introductions were made as people juggled themselves around, finally ending with Cass, Jason, and Danny on one sofa, Sam, Steph, and Damian on the other, and Dick and Tim perching on windowsill or sofa arm respectively. Tucker took the floor.

Once movement stilled, Danny exchanged glances with Sam and Tucker. Maybe hoping that for once, he wouldn’t be doing the explaining?

He shoulda known better.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and didn’t lean intentionally into Jason’s side. It was good to have another halfa around, that was all.

“Sooooo… cliff’s notes? Vlad Masters is a shady millionaire who uses some seriously unethical shit to make predatory deals with other millionaires to steal their fortune. We think he’s here to make his way to that final “b”, byyyy stealing your dad’s fortune,” he explained quickly, glancing around at the Waynes and adjacents he could see.

They did not look convinced.

Tim frowned, leaning forward on his knee and steepling his fingers.

“If you have proof of that, shouldn’t someone already be looking into him?” He asked contemplatively, eyes fixed on Danny’s face.

It was. Weirdly intense.

Fighting down discomfort, Danny shrugged.

“So remember when I said deeply unethical? Think like, mind control. He’s hard to investigate.”

“You make him sound like a supervillain,” Dick noted from the windowsill.

Sam raised a pointed eyebrow at him.

“Duh, we said “millionaire”.”

“Hey,” Tim protested, leaning around Steph to frown at her, “I’m a millionaire.”

She stared him dead in the eye while Steph snickered.

“I said what I said.”

“And so are you,” he shot back sharply, eyes narrowing.

Sam didn’t blink.

“I work at a plant nursery my parents don’t approve of and pay my own tuition. My family are millionaires; I’m not,” she said plainly.

Tim puffed up his cheeks, but let them deflate silently. Jason definitely wasn’t smirking.

Cass leaned forwards suddenly, eyes darting around the room searchingly before settling on Sam.

“Masters. Your connection?” She asked softly, the others stilling to hear her.

Both of Sam’s brows rose, but she didn’t comment at hearing the other girl’s voice for the first time. She looked to Danny instead, raising an eyebrow.

Danny blew out a huff of air, ruffling his bangs.

“So… we… well…”

“He wants to fuck Danny’s mom and adopt Danny,” Tucker said bluntly, tipping his head back to hit Danny’s knees and grinning up at him.

Danny poked him in the forehead, but didn’t refute it.

“Yeah. So he’s kinda been my problem for a while. And he’s the mayor of Amity Park now? Is he still?” He asked, looking from one to the other.

Sam shrugged.

“Think so. I haven’t heard about anyone new.”

The Waynes and co were all kind of just… staring at them. Danny gave them jazz hands.

“And now he’s heeeeeere. He probably won’t make any moves if he knows I’m around, but we should keep an eye on him around Mr Wayne anyway.”

“And we can add him to the fuckery list, along with Sam’s parents,” Tucker added with a very satisfied smile.

It drew all eyes his way, ranging from intrigued to sceptical.

“How?” Steph asked, eyes bright.

Tucker waved a hand over the room.

“Black hair. Blue eyes. For one thing, Mr Drake-Wayne is even the same height, so if he sees you from behind, he could be confused. Dick’s not far off either. And best of all,” he added while the others did quick visual comparisons, decidedly smug, “we hint that Bruce is thinking of accepting Danny as an intern. Step one of Wayne Adoption.”

Sam’s eyes lit up with evil glee.

“Oh he’d do his fucking nut if you cozied up to someone richer than him, Danny,” she gasped, hands bouncing on her lap.

Danny hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Jason. Who was looking back, gears clearly turning. Seeing that he had Danny’s eye, he leaned in quickly.

“Vlad Masters would be Vlad Plasmius, yes?” He asked in a low voice. He’d scanned the database more than read in detail, but he knew the basics.

One very important basic.

Vlad was the other halfa.

And Vlad could sense other halfas. For a hot second Danny very nearly took off out of the room, ready to go find and kick Vlad’s ass and keep him far, far away from Jason.

He didn’t realise he’d clenched his fists until one of them was held in a large, hot hand. Slowly, shakily he uncurled them, checking for blood in the deep half moon crevices now dug in his palms.

Nothing. He was fine.

“Danny?” Jason asked softly, and Danny looked up to his face. There was something in his eyes, something familiar in the way they flashed a deep, sudden green when their eyes met.

Yeah, Jason’s Obsession was fucking definitely Protection, at least in part. Danny clasped his hand quickly, half worried Jason was gonna do just what he’d had to try so hard not to.

Would it have been that bad if Jason was just his friend, not his knight?

There was no way to know anymore.

Covering Jason’s hands in both of his, he gave Jason the best smile he could.

“I’m fine. But yeah, that’s him. And we… should probably also have a private word.” Because there was this sudden, very nasty little temptation curling through him.

“Would this private word have anything to do with Jason almost going full feral?” Dick asked with a studied innocence that had at least a master’s degree.

Which was when Danny noticed that the rest were all staring at them. At their clasped hands. At Jason’s still a little too green eyes.

**

Jason grimaced, fully aware of what they must have seen. He tamped the green down firmly, pushing against the wave of protect-protect-PROTECT the pit was damn near screaming inside him.

Wasn’t entirely sure it was only the pit.

Watching Danny tense up like that, clearly in the throes of fight or flight, pulled at something primal inside him.

Jason didn’t know who Vlad Masters was, what he looked like, what he was doing, but he was fully willing to throw him out of the building by the neck if Danny would relax even a little.

He threatens my king, something growled in the back of his mind and Jason’s hands jerked.

That was fucking new. And not fucking welcome.

He looked to Dick instead, giving him a strained smile. It was the best he could do right now.

“Yeah,” he admitted, not fully comfortable with how strained his voice sounded. How tight his throat felt.

Had the pit tried to use his mouth? Make him speak?

Just the thought made him want to puke, but he pushed that down too. He had shit to do today, and the pit wasn’t gonna ruin it.

“I told you he was helping me with the pit,” he added when Dick still looked calculatedly calm. Definitely not about to tackle him to the ground if he moved too suddenly.

Fuck Jason hoped Dick never tried. When they fought for fun, for training, sure Dick could hand him his ass six ways from Sunday. But when the green took over…

He didn’t want to hurt his brother. None of his brothers, ever again.

Except maybe a little bit psychologically.

“Fenton’s eyes changed too,” Damian said sharply, and oooh absolutely nothing in Jason liked that accusatory tone.

Not about Danny. Not about his king.

His head snapped around to glare at the youngest and knew his eyes had gone green again from the way the others recoiled. All but Sam and Danny. And Damian himself, suicidal little gremlin.

All but Cass, who slipped herself carefully but immovably back into his lap, hooking her feet into the backs of his knees and hands on his cheeks. Pinning him in place.

Making him look at her, not Damian.

She studied his expression intensely, her eyes saying more than even Dick could manage.

And there was a hand in his again, gently soothing across his fingers until his knuckles opened, and Cass let him look away to Danny. Doing just what Jason had done less than a minute ago.

Danny didn’t have to tell his secrets to anyone he didn’t want to. Not now, not the first time they met, not before he trusted them.

Anger-protect-not their business

And Danny smiled back, all gentle and soft, and Jason settled back, relaxing muscles he hadn’t noticed tensing.

Reassurance-calm-safe safe safe-trust

If Jason trusted them, Danny would too. And if that didn’t sting something right in his chest.

Danny cleared his throat, turning back to the rest of the room and giving them a slightly tighter smile.

“Yeah. I. Uh… I was exposed to the Lazarus pits? About a year before Jason was. So I know what it’s like when it gets too strong.”

Half truths at best, but close enough to be believed. To make sense.

Close enough that no one except Damian, tactless boy wonder, would ever ask.

“Only the dying can survive exposure to the pits,” the boy snapped, eyes sharp as he studied Danny in a new light.

Jason’s hands nearly clenched again, but this time Danny’s was in the way. Protecting Danny meant not crushing Danny’s hand.

Good loophole.

“The dying and the dead,” Danny agreed placidly, calm just barely tinted by amusement.

Jason closed his eyes, let himself focus on breathing in Danny’s aura.

Was that a hint of trouble-fun-plans plans mayhem?

Damian squinted at Danny for another long moment, then nodded sharply and sat back. Steph punched him.

“Damian, you can’t just go asking people if they’ve died,” she hissed in a comically loud whisper.

“It was relevant to the conversation!” Damian insisted, immediately sitting back up to defend his honour. Steph tweaked his nose and he properly growled, gearing up to tackle her.

“It was rude, Baby Bat,” Dick coaxed gently, coming from the windowsill to the couch to scoop Damian into his arms.

The only one of them who could have done it and survived. Damian glowered up at him too, then folded his arms and scowled at the floor.

Dire retributions would surely be incoming.

“Hey, it’s cool,” Danny caused, grinning along with the others now that the tension had broken. “He just wanted to know I’m not gonna hurt Jason, right?”

All eyes turned back to Damian, who squinted suspiciously at Danny again. Jason was ready for the flare of protectiveness this time.

Danny was fine. He could handle the demon brat, even if Dick didn’t have him in hand already.

Jason didn’t want to hurt his brother.

Which caused a different, confusing flare of protectiveness because what he needed to protect Damian from was himself, and the self same flares.

He stifled a chuckle that would probably only make things worse.

Finally Damian huffed, turning away into Dick’s arms.

“Tt. Ridiculous. I only wished to be sure you spoke the truth,” he snapped, and the room resettled.

Danny raised both hands, grinning, and Cass shuffled to rest her ear over Jason’s heart.

“Okay?” She asked softly, moving her feet from his pressure points. Jason brought his other arm up and around her, squeezing gently.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks,” he replied just as quietly, resting his cheek in her hair.

“Well, this does also kinda simplify things,” Danny added with a chuckle, leaning back against the couch. “I can just tell all of you; Vlad’s also been ecto…. Pit contaminated. And we can sense each other, so he’s going to know Jason is too.”

That geared the bats back up, all turning back to stare at Danny. Who grinned utterly wickedly.

“So Vladdie gets to be on the rare and extremely valued double fuckery list.”

“Is he gonna try and do anything to Jason?” Steph asked sharply, posture tensing towards the door like it might open at any second.

Tucker shrugged, moving back to lean against the couch next to Danny’s legs. He’d wisely made himself scarce when there was a chance either halfa would make a break for it.

“Like Danny said, Vlad probably won’t try anything if he knows we’re around? He can’t do his mind control on Danny so he’s gotta keep it in his pants, even if he’d rather not.”

Sam brightened, catching on to where the boys were going.

“But because Vlad is like… Obsessed with Danny for being like him, there’s a chance he’ll wanna try and adopt Jason too,” she said slowly, her smile becoming full and wicked.

“And since we’re already planning to have me and Jason caught in some indelicate way to upset the Mansons,” Danny added, utterly self satisfied, “we can fry his brain thinking he can only adopt one of us.”

“And that’s after we make him play Find The Real Danny,” Tucker jumped in, grinning broadly, “because it’s not specific enough to track a single person in a busy room. Do you guys do accents?”

Tim and Dick exchanged glances and shrugged.

“Yours wouldn’t be hard,” Tim pointed out, a smirk pulling across his own face as he nodded to Danny.

“I’d like to know why we’re also fucking with the Mansons though?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam. Who shrugged.

“They refused to let me bring my girlfriend as a plus one. So we’re gonna ruin me for men and make them think twice next time.”

“Wait, so you’re not dating Danny?” Steph asked, proving she had been hovering during their little meet and greet.

None of the Amity Parkers seemed surprised. Not by her listening in, anyway.

Danny flushed cherry red, Tucker burst out laughing, and Sam smirked.

“Not since high school,” she said casually. Danny groped around for a throwable pillow but came up short.

For some reason, Jason felt absolutely no need to protect his king from some righteous bullying. Another fun loophole.

Must be the lack of potential stabbing.

Dick grinned suddenly, now leaning on the other arm of the couch from Tim.

“Okay, but we definitely don’t tell this part to Bruce,” he said eagerly, beckoning all the others closer. “If Jason’s job is to flirt with Sam and defile Danny, we were also here to meet Danny as Jason’s friend.”

“Let Bruce think Danny’s leading you both on!” Steph finished, clapping her hands and cackling. “Oh it’s perfect!”

Sam cackled along with her, turning a much warmer smile on the other girl.

“Oh, my parents would love to trash talk Danny to him too, they’ve probably already hurried off to let him know I’m “eligible”,” she agreed with the most sarcastic air quotes Jason had ever seen.

Steph lurched immediately to her feet.

“We’re gonna miss it! Okay, so our first task is to make sure Vlad knows Danny is here, right? So he knows not to try anything on Bruce,” she added to confirm, looking between the Amity Parkers.

Danny frowned thoughtfully, touching his lower lip. Jason tried not to focus on it.

“He should know as soon as we get within proximity of each other… so probably once we’re both in the big room?”

Tim nodded, rising along with Steph, the fire of planning in his eyes.

“Sam and Jason need to be seen to be flirting, but Danny doesn’t have to be with them. Dick and I can wander through the crowd, keeping an eye out for Masters but keeping our faces turned away. Cass, can you help with that?”

Cass nodded, sitting straighter and resting her head on Jason’s shoulder instead.

“Yes. Can be Dick’s eyes, signal you both.”

Tim nodded, turning to point to Damian.

“And if you can get as close to Masters as you can, you can signal us too if he gets too close to Bruce or us.”

Damian nodded, all ruffled feathers smoothing as he straightened his suit.

“I shall watch him for any suspicious moves. I can also run interference if he approaches Father.”

Steph nodded happily and clapped her hands, pointing both at Tucker.

“And you can join me in spying on the Mansons and recording them if they talk to Bruce, for the rest of us to enjoy later!” She declared triumphantly.

Tucker shot to his feet, grinning broadly.

“Yeah! And if they catch us we can tell them Jason and Sam are doing something, or ask if they’ve seen Danny,” he agreed, bouncing on his toes. He stuck a hand out in front of him. “Ready?”

Steph slapped her palm down on the back of his hand.

“Ready!”

The room now filled with purpose, everyone came to join Tucker, sticking their hands in in a circle, even as Damian complained about “ridiculous social rituals”.

No one else seemed to mind, tossing their hands into the air as they all whispered “BREAK!”, not wanting to be heard from the hallway.

As the room emptied, Danny hung back, catching Jason’s eye.

“So I know you’re probably not ready to talk about this,” he said softly as Sam lingered in the doorway, her back conspicuously to them, “but I just need to ask you if there was electricity involved when you died.”

Jason felt his whole body tense, less than pleasant memories rushing to the fore. Broken bones. A blade in his leg. Explosion.

No electricity.

He could see the strain on Danny’s face as his mind cleared, and shook his head.

“No. Why?” He asked warily, suddenly very concerned.

Danny made a face that did precisely nothing to lessen it, looking away.

“Because there was when I died, and Vlad knows it. And he… he can control electricity. But you’ll be fine, well, other than the usual “oh no a bad guy is shooting me with electricity”, right?”

Danny was babbling now, clearly trying to distract himself, but all Jason could see was pure, pulsing green. Before he knew he’d moved he had an arm wrapped firmly around slender shoulders, crushing Danny to his chest.

He didn’t need to be told that reminders of a ghost’s death wounds could be debilitating. He’d have known without the data. Without the catch in Danny’s voice.

“If he ever lays a fucking finger on you again I’ll fucking kill him,” he growled, his voice coming out almost as low as his helmet modulator.

Danny stiffened for just a moment in his grasp, then relaxed against him.

“I mean, I can handle myself,” he protested weakly, voice somewhat muffled in Jason’s jacket, “but I’m not gonna fight you on that one, Jay.”

It soothed something inside him, something hot in the center of his chest that burned at just the thought of anyone hurting the man in his arms.

Attacking him. Using the pain and trauma of his death against him. Attacking his king.

A gentle hand soothed up and down his spine.

Safe-protected-I’m okay-safe

It took a minute before Jason could bring himself to let go, smiling sheepishly down at Danny.

“Sorry. Guess I’m… uh, not used to dealing with anything other than rage from the pit,” he explained weakly.

It felt stupid, comparing something as soft as the urge to protect to those bloodthirsty rampages. That didn’t make it any less true.

Danny shrugged, rolling out his shoulders and grinning up at him.

“Hey, like I said. Shoulda seen me when I first changed. Anyway, shall we go make Vlad’s night a living hell?” He asked wickedly, a cheeky smile on his face.

Jason nodded and made for the door, giving Sam a small smile of appreciation. She looked between the two of them and snickered.

“Yeah, rumpling you both up in a closet’s gonna be easy breezy,” she said lazily, pushing the door open again. “You should trade ties.”

Danny’s hand flew to his throat and he chuckled softly, then shook both of his hands out.

“Okay… time to go make sure Vladdie knows I’m around,” he sighed, cracking his neck. Like he was limbering up for a fight?

Jason cocked a brow, taking Sam’s arm.

“What are you gonna do?” He asked as they moved out into the hall, back towards the ballroom.

Danny shot him a quick grin.

“Expand my aura to cover the whole room. He’ll know I’m flexing, and he won’t be able to miss it. Should help confuse him about Tim and Dick too, since the whole place is gonna feel like me,” he added, and Jason grinned.

Alright, that was gonna be a useful trick. Time to see that famous Ghost King aura put to the test.

He wasn’t really expecting to feel a change really. He was close enough that Danny’s aura was still brushing gently over his, soothing the pit that he was right there.

Ready and close if Jason needed to protect him.

And then Danny’s brows furrowed for a moment, he flexed his shoulders back, and Jason was surrounded in pulsing waves of DANNY-DANNY-DANNY.

He didn’t know he’d stumbled until Sam caught him, her hand small on his chest right over the thudding pulse of his heart.

He barely felt it. All he could see, all he could hear, all he could feel was the raw power surging out of the man beside him.

Feeling Frostbite in the Far Frozen had been overwhelming. This… this rewrote the beat of his heart, crawled with his breath into his lungs, curled around every deep and intimate part of himself.

Everything was right in the world. His King was here. The pit fucking sang in his veins.

Aaaand Jason hadn’t been this hard in dress pants since he’d been an excitable teenager who couldn’t help it. Eyes closing, he swayed back against the hallway wall.

He could just barely feel Sam’s hand still on his chest, a grounding point as he sucked in deep breaths. Heard her snicker as the ringing in his ears began to die down.

“You’re getting better at that, Danny,” she noted, and Jason hissed.

This could have been worse? More? How?

And then Danny’s hand was at his shoulder too and he didn’t need to open his eyes to know it. Knew the touch, the feel, the way the pit surged warmth to the spot.

Heard Danny’s soft voice as though it were being broadcast straight into his head.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked quietly, and Jason honestly wasn’t sure.

Think about Bruce’s old underwear commercials. Jane Austen novels. Alfred’s expression if Jason ruined his good pants this fucking early into a party.

Later, maybe, it’d give a flare of authenticity but Danny almost certainly wouldn’t be down.

Danny. There was someone here who wanted to hurt Danny.

Jason’s eyes snapped open and he sucked in another deep breath. It was still redolent of Danny’s aura, still cupping him on every side, but he had a purpose now. A job to do.

He managed a slightly strained smile.

“‘M fine. It’s just a shock.” He cleared his throat, reaching down to tug at the front of his trousers as subtly as he could. “Is, uh… is it always like that?”

Danny looked confused for a moment, still concerned, but it was easier to miss the pulsing beat of his emotions now. Easier to focus.

He’d protect Danny’s feelings too, but he couldn’t do that if he was overwhelmed.

Finally Danny shrugged, glancing out towards the ballroom.

“I wouldn’t know… it doesn’t feel all that different to me. Just like everyone in the room is now inside my personal space,” he added, pulling a face.

Jason stared at him for a long moment, wondering how the hell he was going to ask. If he even wanted to mention the effects it had had - was still having, cleaning guns, Alfred in lace, Vlad was still here.

Nope.

Just. Nope. Not opening that can of worms today.

If Danny didn’t know that just feeling him all around him like that was gonna send Jason to horny jail, Jason was just never gonna tell him. And if Vlad had an even similar reaction, Jason would double kick his ass.

Hauling himself away from the wall, Jason cleared his throat again and fixed his jacket.

“Alright… I’m good. Shall we?” He asked Sam, offering her his arm this time. She gave him a quick up and down, raised a brow, but didn’t comment.

“Sure you are,” she chuckled softly, taking his arm with a reluctant half smile, turning back to Danny. “Are you gonna stick close, or do you wanna recon Vlad?”

Danny considered it for a moment, moving with them as they returned to the hall. Then he shrugged.

“I might go take a peek, but if I see your parents I’ll third wheel back on over. You guys should go mosey,” he added, waving a hand quickly.

Jason nodded, tucking Sam closer, turned back to the room, and… froze. Sam, utterly unaffected, made it a couple steps forward before she noticed and turned back, frowning.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asked in a low whisper, eyes flicking around them.

Good fucking question.

Jason closed his eyes, sucking in a slow breath and trying to work out what had shot down his spine like cold water. Brows furrowed, he tried to will his feet to move.

Took a step backwards and opened his eyes again, frowning back at Sam.

“Alright, I didn’t mean to do that,” he hissed, head turning automatically… to where Danny had taken a couple of steps away.

Green surged below his skin, asking what the fuck he thought he was doing. Abandoning his post. Leaving his king.

There was someone here who’d hurt him, who’d used his fucking death against him, and Jason was gonna what? Not be close enough to break his fingers for thinking it?

Eyes closed for a moment, Jason weighed the odds he could just push this down and keep going. Felt Sam tuck closer. They did have a whole ass plan…

Felt a sudden wash of concern-what’s wrong-protect from the surrounding warmth of Danny.

And sighed, shaking his head, pulling Sam with him after Danny. With each step the green sung, a deep satisfaction not his own rising inside.

He gave Danny a sheepish smile and a shrug.

“I don’t think I can leave you alone. Not if he’s here,” he added a little more quietly, well aware they were being watched once again.

Confusion flashed across Danny’s face for a moment, then he groaned and slapped himself in the forehead.

“Fucking Clockwork… alright, we stick together. Tim and Dick will have plenty of fun with Vlad anyway,” he said, grin slowly spreading again as he tucked himself in to Sam’s other side.

“And we can have more fun with my parents,” Sam pointed out innocently, scanning the crowd around them. Shot them both a sidelong glance each, half smirking. “And I get two lots of cute arm candy.”

Danny and Jason turned automatically to look each other over, Jason’s grin broadening as Danny’s cheeks flushed.

Dick had said he looked a treat in this suit. Must have been right about something.

Suddenly Danny’s aura was all very studious and concentrated nothing to see here.

Jason bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing, letting his eyes trail a little slower over his king’s frame.

Wherever Danny had gotten his suit from, they knew a thing or two about tailoring. It fit him well, emphasising the lean lines of his legs and torso. Didn’t quite square off his shoulders.

Jason still hadn’t had much practice with projecting his own emotions back, but he had the feeling his… appreciation got through when Danny’s blush darkened.

Grinning down at Sam, Jason patted her hand.

“Only if my code name’s Gummy Bear.”

A startled laugh from Danny was the reaction he’d been going for. Sam’s sudden, utterly wicked smile was a lot more concerning.

“Alright. Danny’s is gonna be Jawbreaker,” she decided, her gaze darting briefly down to Jason’s lips as she smirked.

Jason looked away quickly, his own cheeks uncomfortably warm as Danny choked.

———————

Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikoyuii @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog1 @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @eonic

#dp x dc #dpxdc #danny fenton dead and loving it #dead on main #wip wednesday

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

✨️1K Followers Celebration Day 3: TXT bias wrecker - Kai✨️

Special delivery

AN: Honestly, my TXT bias list is a fucking mess right now but, I think Kai tentatively holds the position of bias wrecker (though Yeonjun has been yelling in my ear lately). Also, it's completely by accident that my two most recent TXT fics are porn genre/trope related lol. However, I had a lot of fun writing this and my Soobin fic so, maybe I'll explore more tropes, clichés etc with different idols in future fics.

Synopsis: Kai hates his job, but he needs to pay rent. However, when a ridiculously pretty woman can't pay him and offers up another form of payment, maybe it isn't all bad.

Heads up: Huening Kai x Fem! Reader, Pizza delivery man! Kai, strangers to strangers who fuck, the plot is virtually nonexistent, porn logic applies here, implied power dynamics (more dominant Reader and more submissive Kai), praise kink (m. receiving), hints of a size kink, oral sex (m. receiving), Reader touches herself while sucking Kai off, unprotected piv sex, nipple play (f. receiving) and creampie.

Word count: 3199

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Today sucks. It's been hot as hell the entire day, two customers gave him shit for their orders being wrong and he got a text from his roommate that their shower broke. Again. Kai is at his wit's end.

He slams the door of the delivery car harder than strictly necessary but, he can't bring himself to even pretend to care right now. To say his day has been terrible would be a gross understatement. Luckily, he only had an hour left of his shift, and then he would be a free man. That's the single thought that pushes him forward. He can do this. Just one more hour.

He's about to knock on the door of his current delivery address again before it swings open. His words die on his tongue when he takes in the very attractive woman mere centimetres away from him with a robe that leaves very little to his imagination.

"Hi! I'm so sorry it took me so long to answer. I just hopped out of the shower. Just give me a minute and I'll go get my purse," You're gone before he can utter anything in response. Images of what he thinks you look like in the shower flood his mind without much prompting. He needs to get it together. He's a grown man. He shouldn't be getting hard just from fantasising about a stranger taking a shower. Especially not when he's fucking working.

"Oh shoot, I don't have any cash on me. Do you accept card by any chance?" You ask once you return, your head titling in a way that Kai finds far too endearing.

"Um no, Miss. Sorry," he tries not to visibly cringe at the shakiness evident in his voice.

"Damn. I don't know how else I could pay you," you ponder loud, crossing your arms. Which makes him panic because the motion just causes your tits to be even more visible through your poor excuse for a robe.

He's not sure if he's just that obvious or, you have knack for these situations but, you notice him looking. He really doesn't mean to. He just can't help it. Who could really blame him? They were right there.

Before he can't comprehend what's happening, you're in his personal bubble. Eyes that were warm and welcoming moments ago now light up with knowing amusement. Kai swallows.

"Well, I could always pay you another way if you'd like," you trail off.

Now, Kai may not be the best at reading these kinds of situations, but it's clear as day what you're offering.

He knows this is probably incredibly unethical. He knows he shouldn't even be considering what you're so blatantly suggesting, but you are pretty. He'd be lying to himself if he thought otherwise. Plus, it's been longer than he cares to admit since he's gotten any action, and here you are, offering yourself up to him willingly.

He'd be an idiot to say no.

"Okay," he whispers, and he's caught completely off guard when you practically launch yourself at him. Eager hands winding into his hair and soft lips pressing against his. Blood rushes south so quickly that it leaves him completely disoriented. Trying his best to meet your enthusiastic kisses before he realises he's still holding your pizza like an absolute buffoon.

"Hey, s-sorry. Can I put this down somewhere?" He cringes at himself, hoping his awkward interruption hadn't completely obliterated the mood.

"Oh right, sorry. I got a little carried away there," you respond with sheepish laugh, "You can just put it on the table over there."

Once his hands are free and, to his relief, you still want to continue, he hesitantly rests them on your hips. Losing himself in your expert kisses once more and groaning against you when you experimentally tug on his hair. Blood rushing to his face when he feels you smile against his lips at that.

His brain stops functioning all together when you press yourself closer to him. Soft tits against his broad chest, your arms wrapped firmly around his neck, and your stomach flush against his quickly growing erection. He can feel so much of you all at once, and it's not helping his already delicate resolve.

"You can touch me, you know," you say once you two remember that you need to breathe. Your eyes already heavy with such blatant want that it's honestly doing fantastic things for Kai's ego.

"I did-didn't want to go too far or make you uncomfortable,"

Your giggle is like music to his ears, "Considering that I'm going to let you fuck me, I think you're fine. That's very cute, though. Thanks for thinking about my comfort."

He's not sure if his cock twitches because you so casually mentioned letting him fuck you or because you called him cute but, either way, he takes your go ahead. Large hands grabbing generous handfuls of your ass and tits, respectively. Mind already growing foggy from how soft you feel and the kisses and nips you press to his jaw.

"You're so broad," he hears you mutter softly against his neck, shudders running down his spine from the sensation. He's sure his face is flushed from your words. No one's ever called him broad in this kind of situation, and from the way his head spins, he may be learning some things about himself today.

"Th-thank you," he stutters out, not entirely sure what to say in response and still trying to make sense of this realisation as your hands greedily run along his shoulders.

"You're too fucking cute," you groan, weaving one of your hands back into his hair and tugging him down into a messy kiss. At this point, Kai is more than happy to let you do whatever you want with him. Though, he supposes, it should be the other way around given the...circumstance he finds himself in.

He gasps into your mouth, fingers biting into your skin, when you palm him over his jeans. He's already so hard, and every bit of friction you allow him makes his knees buckle.

His grip on you tightens without much thought from him when you lavish his throat with licks and open-mouthed kisses once more. Your smaller hands toying with the belt of his jeans. Not quite seriously trying to unbuckle it, but just the brushes of your fingers so close to where his aching for you makes him feel dazed.

"Please," he whines, desire and embarrassment coiling tightly in his gut.

"Please what?" You ask, a mischievous gleam in your previously warm eyes. Fingers pushing up his shirt to trace nonsensical patterns on his abdomen. Kai thinks he's either going to scream or cry.

"Plea-please touch me," he whispers, trying his utmost not to grind himself into your hand.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," before he can blink, you're on your knees in front of him. Skillfully unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans.

"He-Hey, you don't ha-have to do that," he says quickly, piecing together through the fog of his mind what you're planning.

"I thought you wanted me to touch you?" You ask coyly and, fuck if the sight of you staring up at him with faux confused innocence doesn't make his cock twitch.

"I- yes, I do but, I didn't- you don't have to y'know if you don't want to,"

"What makes you think I don't want to?"

Oh. You've got a point there, he concedes.

"You should relax, cutie. I'm not doing anything I don't want to," Kai hates the way his cock jumps at the wink you have the audacity to send him while tugging down his boxers and jeans.

Relief fills him when he's finally free from the increasingly restrictive confines of his bottoms, but it's fast replaced with anxiety when you just...stare at him.

God, do you think it's ugly? Is it too small? Is it curved weird? Fuck, what if you-

"So pretty," he hears you barely whisper, lidded eyes becoming glossy as you wrap, or rather attempt to wrap, your hand around him. Between the compliment that leaves him completely blindsided and the slight pressure your hand provides, he can't help the whine that bubbles out of him and the jolt of his hips into your soft hold.

Kai feels his vision blur for a second when you take your first tentative lick of him. Pretty pink tongue curiously dragging along the underside of the head of his cock. That mischievous gleam is still present in your eye, and before his brain can catch up to what's happening, he finds himself enveloped in your warm, wet mouth.

His hands weave themselves into your hair instinctively. A broken, bordering on embarrassing, moan falling from his lips when he feels your throat constrict around him. Your hand stroking everything you can't fit in that sinful mouth of yours. He thought the feeling alone would drive him to madness, but the sounds of you gagging on him sends shudders down his spine. Hips shallowly fucking you as not to overwhelm you.

However, given how eagerly your choking on his dick, he doubts he could overwhelm you even if he tried.

He cracks his eyes open with much effort and immediately regrets the decision. Your pretty face is streaked with stray tears, and the combination of your spit and his pre-cum dribbles down your chin. If that wasn't bad enough already, he notices your unoccupied hand disappear between your thighs. His muddled mind taking longer than he cared to admit to understand what you're doing.

Holy fuck, are you touching yourself right now? Is this even real? Based on the circular motions he notices your hand making and moans that are being muffled by his dick down your throat, that pretty much confirms his suspicions.

"Wait shit fuck, st-stop," he stutters out, large hands gently tugging you off of his length before he makes a fool of himself and cums in your mouth.

"Is everything okay?" You ask, looking up at him. Fuck. He can barely look at you right now. Face smeared with tears, spit and his pre-cum. Your eyes a combination of concern and still barely restrained desire. He just hopes you don't notice his cock twitch then.

"Yeah, I just- I was close,"

Warmth floods his face when a smug grin spreads across your face.

"Oh? Why stop then? I'd gladly swallow anything you're willing to give me,"

Kai closes his eyes in an attempt to collect himself momentarily. Which turns out to be a terrible idea because his mind unhelpfully supplies images of his cum streaked across your face and your tongue. God.

"I'd rather cum somewhere else,"

He tries not to feel too proud of himself at the stunned look that crosses your pretty face. It feels good to leave you a little off kilter for once.

You laugh a little breathlessly as you make your way onto unsteady feet, "So you do know how to talk." He resents the way he flushes at your teasing.

His response dies on his tongue when you gently shove him back. He lands on your couch with a soft thud, looking up at you in question only to feel his tongue turn to lead in his mouth and his cock jump against his abdomen.

You shrug off your robe. Exposing your completely nude form to Kai and, he drinks you in. Taking in your breasts and the way they jiggle with every minute bit of movement from you, the slopes of your waist and hips until eventually he zeros in on your slick upper thighs. His blood turns molten. He can't quite see your pussy as clearly as he'd like to but, the streaks of wetness he can see on your thighs makes his head spin.

"You're staring," you tease, strutting over to him. He's not sure if the sway in your hips is just for him or not, but he couldn't care less. He's mesmerised.

"I can't help it. You're beautiful,"

You stop between his legs, and for a moment, he's terrified he went too far. Was calling you beautiful too much? God, why can he never get his foot out of his fucking mout-

He's pulled out of his anxious spiral by your smaller hands cupping his face. You smile at him and proceed to kiss him softly. Your thumb caressing his jaw as he finds himself lost in you once again.

"Thank you, cutie. You're really sweet," you mutter against his mouth, making yourself comfortable in his lap. Any line of thinking Kai had going is swiftly drop kicked out of his mind when he feels your pussy glide over his cock. Based on the way your hands fly to his broad shoulders and the little gasp that leaves you, he's not the only one affected.

He thinks he might lose his mind if you don't sink down on him immediately.

"Please," he whimpers, his hands making themselves at home on your hips.

"Since you asked so n-nicely," you respond with a devious smile. His heart rate continues to tick up when your hand grasps him and lines him up with your entrance.

Kai knows he's in trouble as soon as you begin to sink down onto him. His vision blurring slightly, and his hold on you quickly becoming bruising just from his tip being enveloped by your scorching, slick walls. The little strained whimpers and moans that slip from your lips only making it all worse.

It takes everything in him not to just shove you down onto him or snap his hips up until he's fully inside of you. However, he's not so far gone in his lust that he can't see that hints of discomfort on your pretty face. He pulls you down into a kiss in the hopes of providing some form of distraction. Long fingers reaching between your soft thighs, and he can't help that small smile that finds its way onto his face when you gasp into his mouth and clench around him.

He experiments with various speeds and patterns until he finds the one that cause you to moan into him and, more of your wetness to gush down his cock. "You're taking me so well," he mutters, half-delirious from how otherworldly you feel, and he isn't even fully inside of you yet.

He isn't prepared for you to so suddenly take him all at once. Needy hands tugging on his hair and watery cries of pleasure pressed into his mouth. Kai, for his part, his just trying not to cum from all of the unexpected sensations assaulting him at once. His fingers biting into the skin of your thighs as he fights to regain his composure. Closing his eyes and kissing you back to the best of his abilities while his cock throbs inside of your velvety walls. He's so fucked.

If anyone asks, he definitely doesn't whimper when you start to move. He definitely doesn't leave indents of his fingers on your skin from how tightly he's holding onto you. He definitely doesn't keep his eyes shut just so he doesn't cum in an instant from watching how your face contorts in pleasure for him, how your tits bounce and how your unreal pussy splits open to take him. Definitely not.

His attempt at concentration is disrupted when his ears catch a strangled cry from you, and you clamp down harshly around him. He cracks his eyes open and immediately wishes he hadn't.

The light from the setting sun hits you beautifully. Forming a halo around you as you continue to ride him. Your nimble fingers toying with your nipples and, based on the whines that fall from your devious mouth, they're pretty sensitive. He can't help the way his hips jolt up into at the vision you provide. Yeonjun had always teased him for being a bit of a romantic.

Instinct guides him. His arms coming to wrap around your waist as he fucks up into you. He wouldn't be shocked to find out his eyes had crossed from the depth this angle allows him. Eager mouth latching onto one of your tempting nipples. Groaning into your skin with every lick and suck and tug of the sensitive bud. Unadulterated lust guiding him all the way.

The symphony of skin slapping against skin and your wanton cries fill the space of your living room. Your hands are restless. Not quite sure if you want to tug on his hair or steady yourself on his broad shoulders. "So good. So de-deep," he manages to catch you whine, bordering on pathetic and that just motivates him to fuck you harder. Keeping you in place with his firm grip so you have no choice but to take all of him.

Between the way you tighten and spasm around him and the increasing pitch of your moans, Kai isn't sure how much longer he can last. Teeth nearly sinking into the flesh of your tits with how wound up he is and large hands drifting downwards to grab generous handfuls of your ass.

"I-I think I'm go-gonna cum," he moans out, "Sh-should I pu-pull out?"

Your hands move to cup his face so quickly that his foggy brain takes a few moments too long to even register it. Nails biting into his cheeks and your eyes blazing as they bore into his, "Don't you dare."

Kai couldn't have stopped himself from unravelling even if he wanted to.

He's practically crushes you to his larger frame while he remains completely sheathed inside of you. Ropes and ropes of his cum painting your walls white as he moans loudly, his chest heaving and flushed with exertion.

His disoriented eyes find your frenzied ones once he's able to crack them open. Your mouth shaped in a silent O and, it only hits him when he feels you clench harshly around his softening cock and more of your wetness gushes out of you of that you're cumming. The sting in his scalp is worth it as he takes in the way you fall to pieces on top of him. Eyes fluttering shut and your body convulsing. He tries his best to soothe you through it. Pressing gentle kisses to your neck and shoulder. Large hands rubbing your thighs gently.

He rests against your couch when you eventually sag against him. Laboured breaths hitting the skin of his neck where you've made yourself comfortable. A combination of your releases beginning to trickle out of you and, down his spent cock and balls.

The silence is more comfortable than he anticipates. Neither of you feeling the need to fill it while you gain your bearings.

A thought hits Kai, and he panics. Feeling like the biggest piece of shit on the face of the Earth.

"What's wrong?" You mutter, fingers absentmindedly toying with the ends of his hair.

"I never asked you for your name,"

Your giggle could easily be mistaken for windchimes, "Oh, is that all? It's Y/n. What's yours?"

"It-it's Kai."

"It's nice to be properly introduced to you, Kai," you respond with a dizzying smile.

Yeah, maybe today isn't all bad after all.

#hueningkai smut #huening kai smut #kai smut #txt smut #1k followers celebration day 3 #1k followers celebration #1k followers milestone

[carnivorousyandeere]

tw: dubcon

my lil dream is darling admitting to marcus physical contact/physical affection/sex??? makes them uncomfortable becos of their past (if you know, you know) but it's something that torments darling becos it makes them feel like a freak. like darling wishes they could be more physically affectionate with hypothetical significant others and be able to have sex like others have sex.... and marcus instantly is like (: interesting (: well we could defo do something abt that (:

IDK YOU SAID SEX THERAPY AND I IMMEDIATELY GOD I WANT IT SO BAD

marcus starts off with just soft light touches and darling is trembling becos touch from others has always hurt and it pains marcus to see darling like that but now he gets to introduce gentle touch to them. he skims his hand across their skin and darling is so brave, eyes fluttering close, focusing on the touch.

then it escalates from there every session. marcus is always so gentle, so encouraging, so loving. they hold hands for long periods of time. they hug. after a certain session, they start sitting side by side every single session. eventually, even that escalates to darling sitting on marcus' lap, his arms wrapping around her waist.

idk abt marcus but MAYBE he likes the way that every single session, darling trembles under his touch but darling puts on a brave face anyway. like a rabbit that so desperately wants to run away from a predator but, instead, decides to face it head on. something abt it whets his appetite?

eventually, darling happily tells marcus that they've started to really recover and that they've incorporated what they've learned in therapy. they've started being okay shaking hands with friends! isn't that great??

of course it is! except, no, internally, marcus isn't okay with it. becos he liked being the only one. he liked his darling exclusively being his. so he ups the stakes.

he starts slipping his hands under their clothes, fingers skimming across their hips, across their waist, across their thighs. darling trembles, wondering if this is right but... marcus knows best doesn't he?

then marcus cups darling's cheeks and soundly kisses them. darling wants to pull away but marcus is stronger and so, instead, trembling so very much, darling returns the gesture. becos..... marcus...... maybe..... marcus knows what he's doing...... right?

and then marcus tells darling next session they'll really practice intimacy and darling can't tell if the feeling in their stomach is anxiety or butterflies.

ANON WHO ARE YOU. WHO GAVE YOU THE KEYS TO MY BRAIN?? Same wavelength it’s kinda scary 😳

Iykyk— I think I get what you’re putting down. That wasn’t exactly my experience, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve any of that.

( MDNI )

CW: dubcon, abuse of power/authority, EXTREMELY unethical therapy practices, manipulation

Marcus has you in his lap, facing him, positioned just so that you won’t feel his hardness. He doesn’t want to scare you by having you feel that— this is about you, about making you feel better.

You cling tightly onto his shoulders, eyes shut and lips trembling as his hand travels under your waist band to gently stroke you through your underwear.

He leans in to press a soft kiss to your hairline, reminding you as he always does that it’s okay, you’re safe with him. He won’t hurt you. You can ask him to stop any time and he will. You nod, eyes still screwed tightly shut. Marcus keeps his pace steady and touches light, waiting for the tension in your body to unspool and melt into a different sort of tension.

When he notices your breathing become shallower, Marcus pauses and moves back to cup your face in one hand. Your eyes flutter open, dark and hazy.

“Do you need me to stop?” He asks softly.

“…..No,” you whisper, before letting your eyes close again and nuzzling into his hand. “Please….?”

He smiles softly at how cute you are, despite the pain of seeing you so obviously struggling, and leans in to kiss away the little tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“It’s okay if you’re enjoying this,” he whispers. “It’s okay to feel good. This is supposed to feel good. You deserve to feel good.”

You shake your head no at that, beginning to really cry.

Marcus shushes you, wiping the tears away, “But it’s also okay for it not to feel good. You’re allowed to feel however you feel, and if it doesn’t feel good we’ll stop.”

When you don’t respond, Marcus sighs a little, fighting the urge to hug you closer to comfort you. “It’s alright, that’s enough for today. You did so well for me.”

He tries to move you off his lap to sit next to him and bring you some tissues— he can’t possibly let you leave his office like this, so wounded and vulnerable— but you just cling tighter to him and shake your head again, eyes still screwed shut and head turned down in shame.

“P-please… please don’t stop, Marcus…”

His heart stutters in his chest. How could he possibly refuse your heartfelt plea?

#mail 📬 #oc Marcus #tw dubcon #cw dubcon #my thoughts #yandere #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere cw #yandere therapist #yandere smut #mdni #nsft

[thecameronchronicles]

Kill Bill

TW: stalker, possessive, toxic Rafe! Language. Dub!Con. Bondage. Degrading language. Dark!Rafe. Dom!Rafe. Anal play. Anal sex.

SUMMARY: Rafe's POV about how he plans to get her back, with unethical and unorthodox means, of course.

WORD COUNT: 2900

REQUESTED

Don’t know if you’re still taking request but anything in Rafe’s pov would make me so happy 😭🙏🏽

Iovdrew asked

hi babeee! how is everything going? i hope is all good love. you think you can do something based on “kill bill” by SZA? i think it suits rafe quite well. it’s okay if u cant. love u🤍🤍

Kill Bill

RAFE'S POV

What the fuck was she thinking showing up here tonight with him? A pogue?! At my house?! At my party?! It only made sense that I taught her little ass a lesson. That perfect little ass I know missed me. So why would I have to suffer when she was the one who made the mistake?

I waited until they left, acting as if I gave a shit about Topper's recent drama with Sarah. Some comment about her pulling away and my eyes noted how JJ wrapped her beneath his jacket. My fist curled around my drink at the thought of her smelling like him when I took her again. Marijuana and dirt was the best way I could think to describe it. A hint of saltwater. And blood if he dared to kiss her in front of me. Luckily for him and that pretty boy face, he was smart enough not to. Instead, he led her down my steps and towards his bike. 

A convenient lack of gas from the brake I cut, stalling him enough to enlist Kiara's help as I caught my girl finding me in the crowd. A taunting lift of my cup and she rolled her eyes before turning away. A smirk developed as I took a sip to how I knew I would have her rolling her eyes for me again. Only this time in the way I knew he never could. And he would never have a chance to if I had a say in it. 

"Hey…Need some gas?" She looked at me as if I offered her cocaine. Not exactly uncommon for me, but not for her. I'd never let her touch the stuff. Not when I knew the hold it could have over someone. And I only wanted her to be that addicted to me. And she would be. Whether she liked it or not. 

"You have some?"

"Ward kept some in the shed…" Her eyes widened as she swallowed hard. The mention of the shed was intentional to the last time we were in there. A hook hung in the center of the room as I took her from behind. She dripped so beautifully for me. And she fucking remembered. I saw the fire in her eyes and the way she pressed her thighs together in remembering it. Remembering me. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't throbbing. 

"Kie is gonna give us a ride."

Fuck. Kiara always saving the day. 

"She's convinced it was more fuel efficient anyway…let's go, princess." He spoke intentionally to spite me as I only called after them. 

"Have a safe night," Well aware hers would be anything but. 

A few hours later, when everyone that remained at Tannyhill was too drunk or high to notice my absence, I slipped into the night and to her home. And I knew he was there with her. A radar for the leech that existed as JJ Maybank on high alert. But it didn't matter. I planned for this. 

I finalized the final strap to the bed as she awoke. Her eyes took only a second to adjust before she glared at me. 

"Rafe, what the fuck are you doing?" But as she asked, she offered another question before I could answer. "Why the hell am I tied up?! Let me go!" 

"Did you think I went through all this just to let you go?" 

"Stop! We can talk, okay?"

"I don't want to talk." I hovered over her, my hand at her jaw. 

"I want to fuck." Her face paled even though her eyes widened with need. My hand cascading down her face and to her breast, a ready nipple already erect. 

"Stop it…Rafe, I mean it!" But as she wanted to fight me, her body told me of her true need. My fingers removing the bralette from her breast and exposing her to me as she tensed to my tongue over the bud. Fuck I missed that little whimper she made when I did this. How could I ever think for a second I could be without it. Oh right, because I thought it would make her happy. Well, I won't make that mistake again…

"Good girl, baby…keep purring for me…just like you always did…" My hand continued even lower, my mouth set at her breast as she fought her body. Every nerve that I slowly broke behind. 

"You still get wet just from this?" I asked, a finger against her panties for validation. 

"Even worse…" I slapped her clit from over the clothes panties. 

"You remember last time she got hit? Came for me all over my tongue…" I looked up at her, finding her biting her bottom lip until it drew blood. Fuck, was she trying to make me come already?

"I can still taste it…my girl's cum all over my face…mmm…" I nestled my nose against her, breathing in her scent. The scent I caused. 

"Even sweeter than I remember." 

"Please…Rafe…stop…" But her words were weak as I scoffed. 

"You know begging only makes me want to come inside that pretty little throat…but I don't want to risk making you raspy…not before I hear you beg for it…" I bit over the fabric of her clit, the friction making her arch. 

"But JJ…please." His name made me bite her, hard, as she winced. My weight shuffled off of the bed as I turned on the lamp across the room to get her attention. There, in a chair at the foot of the bed was JJ. Tied with his mouth, ankles, and hands kept out of place. 

"JJ!" 

"Fuck, she's already dripping for me, JJ…bet you never knew she could get this wet…" 

"It's okay…" He tried to muffle behind his mask as I scoffed. 

"It's anything but…don't worry, JJ…I'm not evil." I smirked as I whistled, the door coming open across the room. A girl I knew wanted JJ entered, her lips already moistened when she saw him. 

"As promised…" I explained as she moved to her knees in front of JJ. His eyes wide as he fought against her until his cock was in her mouth. Then his eyes screwed shut, his hips making a slow rise as I turned back to her teary gaze. 

"I haven't been with anyone since you. In here…" I reminded her of the bedroom as the wall behind the bed still wore the same wounds made into the wall. 

"And he's already coming from some other girl.."

His moans were valid in this as he was lost to her skilled mouth. 

"JJ!" To this, I moved over to him, pulling off the tape and stopping the whore at his knees. 

"You want her to stop, JJ?" He clenched his teeth, dripping with need. 

"Fuck…" She stoked him. "Look at our girl…she's so wet watching you…don't you want her to come?"

"Jesus…."

"Tell her you want her to keep sucking you, man, she will…she's good for it…" she grinned. 

"Keep going…fuck…keep going…" My girl cried as I moved to her. 

"Yes sweetheart…oh shit…you feel good…"

"Pogues may be resilient, but they're impatient…" JJ continued to endorse her, only helping my cause as she turned away. 

"They don't know a good thing when they have it…" I pulled her panties down far enough to expose her to me as she shifted in sadness. 

"It's okay, baby…I'll remind you why you only need me to make you come…" I began with two fingers. 

"Fuck…you…" 

"Not yet, baby…damn, I guess his impatience is rubbing off on you…" 

"I hate you…" 

"Good…you'll come twice as hard then…once when you hate me…and once when you remember you love me…" I returned to her, my hand applying pressure to her stomach as I made her arch immediately. 

"I love it when you make it difficult…I can get every angle of you this way…"

She moaned. The way I knew she never did with him. The way I knew only I could make her. 

"Untie me…please Rafe…I want to touch you…" 

"I'm not falling for that, baby…"

"I want you in my mouth!" She begged as I saw the tears still in her eyes. 

"Yeah?" She nodded as I moved to the edge of the bed, hiding her chin softly in my direction. 

"Then suck me…" 

"Untie me…" To her response, I silenced her with my cock. Her eyes rolling as she looked towards JJ, face red and lips parted as he was basking in his own pleasure. 

"Focus on me, baby…I'd never hurt you…" She grazed her teeth on my skin as I hit her breast. 

"Not unless you deserved it." I flexed in her mouth, the way she was in pain making me nearly come on the spot. The only thing better than hearing her come in ecstasy was that pleas of agony. Both welcome by her once upon a time. 

"Be good and you get a reward…" I lowered my hand to her pussy. Jesus, she was crying everywhere for me. 

"One to start…" I explained as she tightened around me immediately. 

"Keep going…" I endorsed as her eyes closed, her brows raised to show her endurance turned to basking. 

"You missed choking on my cock, didn't you baby?" She nodded as I lived for this submission. I could feel myself closer than I wanted to be because of it. But her pussy deserved my cum, not her dirty little mouth. 

"Slow down…" She listened, focusing only on the tip as I filled her cunt. My palm rubbing at her clit as two fingers fucked into her. God she purred, too. 

My perfect little kitten. 

"You wanna come?"

She nodded in desperation. He remained audible as I teased my cock to her lips as she chased after it. 

"I want to untie you, but I can't trust you-"

"I swear, I just wanna have you inside me…" 

"One hand…" I offered as she bit her bottom lip with excitement, her hand moving directly to my shaft. 

"Good girl…oh fuck…" I moaned as JJ came behind me. Her eyes ignoring the shift they'd tried to make as I nodded. 

"See baby, I even last longer…"

"I know…" 

"You miss it?"

She nodded. 

"You want it?"

I grinned before unlatching her left ankle so I could turn her towards the bed. 

"I want to taste you. And he's gonna watch. Maybe learn something…sit on my face…" She was quick to obey, my good girl knowing exactly where she belonged. 

"Hold yourself open for me…" She reached between her legs and spread herself, dripping onto my lips. My tongue greedy to her as she bucked away from me. 

"Don't come, yet…I promise you can. And hard. Just not yet. Not until I say…" I felt her use her clit against me. 

"You want to make me come?"

"Yes!"

"Fuck.." I grunted before reaching up and leaving her untied in all ways but her right ankle that remained to the bed. Her hand wrapping around me and stroking me as I ate into her. My tongue savoring as she melted into my mouth. For a moment, I forgot about JJ and the girl. I just focused on her quivering at the edge of my tongue. 

"I miss your ass…"

"Take it!" She moaned as I scoffed. 

"You that desperate to come?" 

"Yes!"

"Shit…you are…" I used her dripping to her ass. That little hole calling for me. My fingers beginning first as she clenched tightly around my other hand. 

"Don't come…" I reminded. 

"I need to! RAFE, I'm gonna explode!"

"Squirt maybe…" I slapped her ass. "I don't know about explode-" 

"I'm gonna! It's…oh…it's so…fuck…Raaaafe! She fucked herself back into me, every hole devoted to me before I split her ass wider, spitting at the hole. 

"Ooh, even your little ass is wanting me…"

"Please…take me, Rafe…fuck me…" 

"Hear that, JJ…"

"Rafe! Me!" She moaned. "Please!" 

"Turn around." She obliged. "You ride me and you make him watch. And I promise to make you come all over my fucking cock." My hand was stationed at the back of her neck as she began, hurrying to bury me into her. I missed my little vixen. I missed how she missed me. 

"Harder!"

"You gonna come if I do?" She nodded quickly as I slapped her ass. 

"Then you wait…" 

"RAFE! I can't! I need it!" I took her breast in my mouth, leaving bruising and a bite mark as she arched beneath me. She always loved being marked and bruised. It's why I needed her every fucking second. To correct her. 

"Not even using a condom, baby."

"I want to feel you come inside me…" Her nails are into my back, blood dripping down her trail as I flexed. 

"Give me it…" She knew what I meant, pulling the blood to my lips. 

"I wanna make you bleed…" She offered her lip as I took it between my teeth as she winced. 

"Yes…" I grinned. "Baby, fuck harder…I want to feel how badly you want it." I ordered as I assisted in the rise made of her hips. 

"RAFE! I'm gonna come! You're hitting right there!!!" 

"Here?" I asked with a finger to her clit. 

"Yes!!! Fuck! I can feel it…It's so close baby…" 

"Oh shiiiit…." I breathed out as my balls tightened. I wanted to last. I needed to. But her pull and submission was too much. The clench. The blood. Her body. Her pussy. Fuck…that good shit…she was making me an animal rooting up into her. 

"Yes! Like that!"

"Yeah baby?" I sucked into her neck, squeezing her ass as tightly as I could as my middle finger teased that hole. 

"Please! PLEASE!" I obliged, fucking her through both holes as she left me. Her body trembling and her eyes nearly possessed. When she crashed, I threw her onto her stomach. My jaw forcing her to look at JJ who was being overstimulated by his whore. 

"Yes…" He mouthed to her. 

"Fuck you…" She spoke to him as I'd never loved those words more coming from her. 

"You want him to watch you come again?" 

"Please…I want more…" I pulled her hair and made him watch her. 

"One hole left, baby."

"Fuck it…" I spit into her spread cheeks. 

"It's already soaked…"

"It needs you…" I slapped her ass. 

"Oh yeah? Let me hear you beg  a bit then…if you need me…" 

"I'll do anything please just fuck me there…right here…" She lifted her hips, opening her cheeks wider. 

"Tempting, baby…"

"Oh God! RAFE please!" I teased her with the head of my cock. 

"Here?"

"Fuck yes…"

"Has he?"

"No!" 

"Good." I thrusted. Cruel and cold as she came the second I began. Her body trembling as I set two fingers back inside of her. 

"Rafe….baby…"

"You used to take me all night…you have a lot to make up to me…and he's gonna watch every fucking time…"

"Rafe…"

"He loves it…" I smirked, scoffing at how her ass squeezed me. Warranting a slap of approval. 

"Keep doing that ..yeah yeah yeah yeah…"

"JJ…" I pulled her hair. 

"You don't fucking say his name while I'm inside you…"

"I'm sorry!" She rasped as I kissed her hard. 

"I'm gonna fucking come again!" She announced, pained. 

"It's too much…I'm gonna..I'm-Rafe…Rafe- I'm gonna!" And there it was, the thing he could never make her do. I knew it. The second I touched her I knew it. And she was doing it for me.

Spurt after spurt. She came hard, as promised. My own load filling her as I paused, feeling her relax.

Big mistake…

"I'm not done sweetheart…" I mimicked JJ's name for her as she eyes widened. 

"I gave you what you wanted…" the pain hit me at the moment. She allowed herself to enjoy it so it would end. So the truth was simple. I wouldn't let it. 

"Are you mine?" Her eyes shifted to JJ. 

"Until you are, we aren't done. Even if it means you get fucking knocked up…I'll take care of you…but right now, you need to learn your fucking lesson. Having to each you drive around town with this pogue, when you will always be on your back for me…or any other fucking angle I want." I fucked into her again. Every ounce of anger projected into each snap of my hips as she continued to come. 

It was the only thing that kept me from killing either of them. Something I wasn't even sure I was capable of until seeing how she looked at him. She might actually love him. But she wouldn't by the time I was done with her. 

No matter how long it took…

TAGLIST:

@rafesmoon @maybankslover @puzziepoppin @gillybear17 @onclouds999@hopebaker @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @belcalis9503

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #outerbanks #outerbanks fanfiction #outerbanks smut #obx #obx fanfiction #obx smut #drew starkey #Youtube

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - mentions of drug use

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 11

Matt Sturniolo created his own world; only in his own environment did he feel secure, comfortable, and protected. A genuine camaraderie was created at Graceland. We lived as one big family, eating, talking, arguing, joking, playing, and traveling together.

Although I became friends with the guys in Matt’s retinue, he never let me, or anyone else, forget that I was his girl. I was never to get too close or become too familiar with any of the regulars.

One evening, after we came home from a movie, we said good night to everyone and went upstairs. Returning to the kitchen a few minutes later to get something to eat, I found Jerry Schilling, who’d just started working for Matt, making himself a snack. We started talking. A few minutes later, Matt appeared.

“What the hell are you two doing down here?” he shouted at us.

Intimidated, Jerry said, “Well, Matt, we were just talking. I was asking her how she felt, because she didn’t feel well this afternoon.”

“I came down to get something to eat,” I explained.

“y/nn, you don’t need to be roaming around here late at night,” he said, angrily ordering me upstairs.

Behind me, I could hear him lashing out at Jerry. “If you want to keep this job, son, you mind your own business. If there’s anyone who’s going to ask her how she feels, it’ll be me. You better mind your own goddamn business.”

I liked Jerry. He was warm, sincere, and very personable; just a couple of years older than I, he was one of the few people who I could relate to. But from that time on, it was a dodging match every time we’d run into each other. Now Jerry and I laugh about the “good old days” when we reminisce.

Most of the boys who worked for Matt had been around from the beginning and they knew all about him—his sense of humor, his sensitivity, and his temper. He stripped himself bare in front of them, and they accepted him for what he was.

Yet working for Matt was a twenty-four-hour-a-day job, and the boys were at his beck and call constantly. They played when he played and slept when he slept. It took a certain kind of personality to put up with his demands, whether they made sense or not.

“Come on, y/nn, let’s go to Los Angeles. I’ll show you where I film movies.,” he said one afternoon when we’d only been up for a few hours. He called downstairs and told Alan to alert everyone that he wanted to leave within the hour.

Alan said, “Okay, Boss. I think Richard and Gene are still sleeping. I’ll give ’em a call and tell ’em to come right over.”

“Their lazy asses are still sleeping?” Matt asked. “I’ve been up for two goddamn hours. They should have been over here by now. Alan, from now on, when I call down for my breakfast, call the boys and tell them I’m up and to be ready for anything, and that may include me not even coming downstairs. I just want them here.”

Demanding? Yes, but Matt could be just as generous. By today’s standards the boys’ salaries were not high—the average paycheck was $250 a week—but if the boys ever felt the pinch by the end of the month, they would go to Matt. They’d ask him if he could help them out with a down payment on a house or the first and last months’ payments on an apartment. Matt always came through for them, lending them the one thousand or five thousand or ten thousand dollars they asked for. He was rarely if ever paid back.

There also was no limit to the expensive gifts he gave them—television consoles for Christmas, bonus checks, Cadillac convertibles, Mercedes-Benzes. If he heard someone was sad or depressed, he loved to surprise them with a gift, usually a brand-new car. When he gave to one, he would usually end up giving to all.

James didn’t have much respect for the guys. He said Matt just gave and gave and gave, and they took and took and took. He’d say, “Son, we have to save.” Matt would answer, “It’s only money, Dad. I just have to go out and make more.”

James resented the regulars acting as if Graceland was their personal club. They’d go into the kitchen at any hour and order anything they wanted. Naturally, everyone ordered something different. The cooks worked night and day keeping them happy. James felt, “To hell with the boys. Their main concern should be Matt.”

What was really outrageous was that the regulars were ordering sirloin steaks or prime ribs while Matt usually ate hamburgers or peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

I wasn’t too popular around Graceland when I started reorganizing the kitchen. I set down a policy of having one menu per meal, and anyone who didn’t like what was on it could go to a local restaurant. This new edict resulted in much grumbling from the guys, but the cooks were relieved, and James sanctioned my decision, announcing, “It’s about time someone organized the meals. It was beginning to look like we were feeding half of Boston.”

Matt was the boss, the provider, and the power. Both the boys and I had to protect him from people who annoyed or irritated him and were no longer in his favor. Before coming down for the evening, he’d have me call downstairs to check who was there. I’d run down the guests, aware that certain names would strike him wrong.

“Shit,” he’d say, his mood destroyed. “What’s he want? Bring me some more bad news?” He’d stay up in his room rather than spend an evening with someone he didn’t like. There was one particular regular who had incurred his disfavor, and Matt told everyone he didn’t want him around. “Don’t let him through those goddamn gates!” Matt ordered. “All I have to do is look at his face and I get depressed.” Matt barred him from Graceland for a number of years, saying, “If he changes his morbid attitude, maybe I’ll change my mind.” His perceptions were correct, as these “friends” eventually betrayed him.

Matt and James kept some of their relatives at a distance because, as Matt explained to me, they’d shunned him when he was growing up, ridiculing him as a sissy, a mama’s boy. Mary Lou stood up for Matt and told his tormentors to go their own way. Angrily, she had said, “Don’t bother us with these accusations.”

Then fame and fortune hit, and suddenly all the kinfolk came around, begging for jobs or crying that they needed help. Sometimes Matt got upset, charging, “The only time they visit is with their hand out. It’d be nice if they’d come around just to see how I was doing. But hell no, it’s always, ‘Ah, Matt, I could use a little extra cash. Could you help me out?’ Hell, I’ll bet when I’m dead and gone, they’ll still be taking advantage.” But Matt ended up slipping each of them a hundred dollars or more every time they came around. If it had been up to James, he would have gotten rid of every one of them. But Matt kept saying, “No, Dad, they don’t have any place to go. They couldn’t work anywhere. Keep them here.”

From the beginning of his success, Matt put many family members on salary, and all had titles. James was his business manager; Patsy, his personal secretary; uncles Vester Sturniolo and Johnny and Travis Smith, and cousin Harold Lloyd, gate guards; cousins Billy, Bobby, and Gene, personal aides; and then there was Tracy Smith, who seemed to go from brother to brother for support. Matt took care of everyone.

I remember one night at Graceland when Matt came back to the kitchen and saw Tracy pacing the floor. “Hey, Tracy,” he said, “How ya doing, man?” Tracy, his hands in his pockets, could hardly look Matt in the eye. “I don’t know, Matt,” he sighed. “What do ya mean, you don’t know? Everyone knows how they’re doin’, man.”

Tracy, shifting back and forth, mumbled, “I got my nerves in the dirt, Matt.” Matt staggered back, laughing. “Nerves in the dirt! Hell, I never heard it expressed like that before. You need some money, Tracy?”

Again, Tracy just shifted back and forth, as Matt called Nate over and told him to give Tracy a bill. A big smile covered Tracy’s lined face as he happily took his hundred dollars and walked out the door.

Matt knew that having his nerves in the dirt was Tracy’s way of saying he was down and out—and worried sick about it. He never forgot that phrase. “Poor ol’ Matt,” he’d say. “I’ll never forget the look on his face that night, poor ol’ guy.”

That was Matt—always caring, always sensitive to everyone’s needs, even while presenting a macho image to his fans and friends.

Anything I could think of doing for him, I did. I made sure Graceland was always warm and inviting, with the lights turned low, as he preferred them, the temperature in his bedroom set to his exact desire (freezing), and the kitchen filled with the aroma of his favorite meals.

Every night before dinner was served, I came downstairs first, checked with the maids to see that his food was just the way he liked it—his mashed potatoes creamily whipped, plenty of cornbread, and his meat burnt to perfection. I always had candles on the dining room table to create a romantic atmosphere despite the fact that we always ate with several of the regulars.

I loved babying Matt. He had a little-boy quality that could bring out the mother instinct in any woman, a beguiling way of seeming utterly dependent. It was this aspect of his charm that made me want to hold him, shower him with affection, protect him, fight for him, and yes, even die for him. I went to extremes in taking care of him, from cutting his steak at dinner to making sure his water glass was always filled. I enjoyed pampering and spoiling him and found myself jealous of others vying for his attention and approval.

But I didn’t always receive his approval. If something went wrong with his dinner, Matt blew up. “Why isn’t this steak done? Why didn’t you make sure the maids cooked it right? If you’d have done your job, it wouldn’t have turned out like this.” Obviously something else was wrong, and I didn’t recognize it at the time. Because of the continuous pressures and problems in Matt’s life, all magnified by taking prescribed drugs, little things would set him off. I took responsibility for everything in his life and always took it all too personally.

I wanted to be with Matt as much as I could, but while going to the movies or the fairgrounds every night might have been a wonderful way for him to relax, it posed an enormous problem for me. Often I wouldn’t get home until 5 or 6 a.m., and I’d have to be at school two hours later. Sometimes I never went to sleep. When I did, I could barely make it out of bed. I would lie there trying to drum up the strength to face the day, Matt making it even harder by suggesting that I sleep in and cut classes. It would have been so easy to go along with his suggestion, but hanging over me was the agreement I’d made with my parents. They trusted me and even though I was letting them down, I still had to keep up the facade.

Day after day I drove to school, attended classes till noon, then returned to Graceland to slip back into bed and cuddle next to Matt, who was still sound asleep. When he awoke at 3 or 4 p.m., I might never have left his side for all he knew. I was there to give him his usual order of orange juice, a Spanish omelet, home-fried potatoes, a mere two pounds of bacon, and—first and foremost—his black coffee.

Everyone who knew Matt was aware that it took him at least two to three hours to wake up fully. Asking him to make a decision, even a simple one such as what movie he wanted to see that night, was ill-advised. He was just too groggy and irritable from the sleeping pills, which were causing him to sleep as many as fourteen hours a day. It seemed only natural for him to take some Dexedrine to wake up.

I was always concerned about his intake of sleeping pills. His horror of insomnia, compounded with a family history of compulsive worrying, caused him to down three or four Placidyls, Seconals, Quaaludes, or Tuinals almost every night—and often it was a combination of all four. When I expressed my concern, he just picked up the medical dictionary, always near at hand on his night table.

“In here is the explanation for every type of pill on the market, their ingredients, side effects, cures, everything about them,” he assured me. “There isn’t anything I can’t find out.”

It was true. He was always reading up on pills, always checking to see what was on the market, and which ones had received FDA approval. He referred to them by their medical names and knew all their ingredients. Like everyone else around him, I was impressed with his knowledge and certain that he was an expert. One would think he had a degree in pharmacology. He always assured me that he didn’t need pills, that he could never become dependent on them. This difference in opinion resulted in many serious confrontations; I always compromised my integrity and ended up taking his viewpoint.

I began taking sleeping pills and diet pills too. Two Placidyls for him and one for me. A Dexedrine for him and one for me. Eventually Matt’s consumption of pills seemed as normal to me as watching him eat a pound of bacon with his Spanish omelet. I routinely took “helpers” in order to get to sleep after wild rides at the fairgrounds or early-morning jam sessions. And I routinely took more “helpers” when I woke up in order to maintain the fast pace and, more importantly, to study for my final exams.

During the last month before finals, I started popping more dexies than before. They seemed to give me the energy I needed to get through classes and homework. Every free moment was devoted to cramming a whole semester’s work into a few weeks. But my concentration was scattered; the strain of life at Graceland had finally caught up with me.

I had already been warned by Sister Adrian that in order for me to graduate, I had to pass all my subjects. During a talk in her office, I wanted desperately to confide in her and explained how hard it was to maintain my grade level with the late hours I kept: But how could I tell that to a nun?

I had no real goals after graduation, but I did sometimes dream of becoming a dancer or possibly enrolling in an art academy. Now I realize that I was deeply influenced by Matt’s casual attitude toward continued schooling. He figured I didn’t need it and I agreed. Just being with him most of the time would provide an education—not to mention experience—that no school could give me. He wanted me to be his totally, free to go to him in an instant if he needed me.

That sounded great to me. I’d never planned on a future without Matt. Therefore, while my classmates were deciding which colleges to apply to, I was deciding which gun to wear with what sequined dress. I was tempted to say to Sister Adrian, “Oh, by the way, Sister, does gunmetal gray go with royal blue sequins?” With that attitude it was no surprise that I was still woefully unprepared for my most hated subject, algebra, the week before finals.

On the day of the test, I sat in the crowded classroom, hyper from downing a dexy, trying to work out the problems. Despite my effort, I knew there was no way I was going to pass. I started to panic. I had to graduate. I had an obligation to Matt and to my parents, who I knew would yank me out of Graceland the minute I failed this test. I glanced at the girl next to me—and at her completed test paper. It’s my last resort, I thought. I’m going for it. I was not willing to face the consequences of being sent home for failing this test.

Her name was Janet and she was a straight A student. I tapped her on the shoulder and flashed my brightest smile, whispering, “Are you a Matt fan?” Taken aback by my question, Janet nodded yes. “How would you like to come to one of his parties?” I asked.

“Are you kidding?” she replied. “I’d love to.”

“Well, I know a way that it can be arranged.”

I eyed her test paper and explained. Janet instantly grasped my dilemma and, without a word, slid her paper to the edge of her desk. Now I had a full view of her answers. I spent the rest of the hour furiously copying them down and I not only passed, but I got an A on that test.

I hadn’t expected Matt to make much of my graduation. His attitude was, “A diploma’s not that important; life’s experiences are.” But to my surprise, he really looked forward to it and arranged to have a big party for our friends after the ceremony. There he presented a beautiful red Corvair, my first car.

On the big night he was like a proud parent. Nervous about what he should wear to the ceremony, he finally settled on a dark blue suit, and I put on my navy blue gown. I couldn’t possibly keep the cap on over that mass of teased hair.

Matt had a limo waiting for us out front. But there was one problem: I did not want him to come to the actual ceremony. It would attract a lot of attention, and all eyes would be focused on him instead of the graduating seniors.

Finally I worked up enough courage to ask him to wait outside, and explained why. Smiling his funny little grin, the one that came to his lips when he was hurt or upset, he agreed without hesitation. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he said. “I won’t come in. I’ll just be outside in the car waiting for you. That way I’ll kinda be there.”

And that was what he did. I accepted my diploma with mixed emotions. I would have loved for him to have been watching, but only I knew what a physical, emotional, and mental strain it had been to get that piece of paper. To me, it represented freedom, freedom to stay out until dawn if I wanted and sleep all day if I wanted. It represented freedom from my school uniform and from the teasing the entourage subjected me to every time they caught me in it trying to sneak past them at Graceland. I was a big girl playing in the big leagues.

As soon as I could get away, I ran outside. In front of the church, Matt and the boys were standing by the long black limo, looking like the Chicago Mafia in their dark glasses and suits, each concealing a.38. Around them a group of nuns were clamoring for Matt’s autograph.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd. This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - so cute🎀

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