#drawing this with drawings of the human back pulled up like ‘THE DIAGRAMS I MUST CONSULT THE DIAGRAMS’

[wazzappp]

Ok so I have NO IDEA how feasible this actually is I just really wanted to mess with the idea of Khaji Da making entirely new muscles to secure themselves to Jaime.

My goal was just ‘it’s gets worse the longer you look at it’. There’s a lot here that’s just WRONG which I think is pretty cool.

#drawing this with drawings of the human back pulled up like ‘THE DIAGRAMS I MUST CONSULT THE DIAGRAMS’ #idk dude I took 4 years of biomed in high school and really enjoyed it but I can’t remember shit my medical knowledge is bleh #anyway this was fun and if anyone has ways to make him more fucked up please don’t hesitate to let me know lol #jaime reyes #khaji da #blue beetle #my art #sketch #body horror #blue beetle bio diagrams #blue beetle headcannons

[puddingcatbeans]

timkon; being sick sucks less when you can bug your best bud.

A knock on the door interrupts Tim's rapid typing. He glances up from his laptop to see one red-nosed, bleary-eyed Superboy, wrapped up in his comforter with only his face peeking out. He must be using his TTK to hold it all closed like that.

"Hi Kon," Tim says. "How are you feeling?"

Sniffling, Kon shuffles into the room. "Less like Bart's attempt at scrambled eggs."

"That's good then, that means you're pretty much out of the woods."

"Hnnnnrgh." The bed dips as Kon climbs onto it, waddling forwards on his knees, hands still refusing to leave the comforter. It has little spaceships on it. "Being sick is the worst. How do you do it, Rob?"

Tim rolls his eyes. "Sorry for my weak human immune system."

He doesn't tease the other boy further though. Being half Super, Kon rarely gets sick, but when he does, it hits him like a truck. Well, maybe forty trucks. With a few carrying Kryptonite. Anyway, he's spent the entire week either passed out or coughing miserably in the Tower, and the entire team is ready for their Superboy to be back in tip top shape. Big head and showing off and all.

"What are you working on?" Kon asks. He's managed to worm his way next to Tim, and he flops against Tim's side. Warmth emanates from him, even through the comforter.

"A report for WE. Putting out fires before they can start."

"Hm. Sounds boring. Tell me about it."

"Well, you know the law of supply and demand, right..." Tim launches into a spiel about economic growth and the delicate balance he has with the Board members and also the HR department.

It's all just logic, moving pieces back and forth, until he finds the result that makes everyone happy. Mostly everyone. Talking it through out loud is surprisingly helpful, though. Tim's always been told his mind works too fast to keep up, and they tells him he likes to lecture too much, but his team has always listened to him even when they groan and draw stick figures over his charts and diagrams. Kon, with his disinterest and downright contempt for the corporate world, has clocked in hours and hours of Tim ranting about work. That's honestly ridiculous, and Tim loves him for it.

He attaches the PDF to the email and hits send. "And that's it! Can't wait to see their faces when they read this, right, Kon?"

The only response he gets is a soft snore.

Tim looks over to find Kon asleep against his knee. His curls are frizzy from being wrapped inside the comforter. His brow is relaxed, his mouth slack. He's drooling a bit. Just looking at him makes Tim yawn.

Sliding his laptop over to the nightstand, Tim spares a moment to stretch his arms. He turns and rolls the Kon-comforter-burrito further up the bed. Kon stirs slightly. Tim runs a hand through his hair, shushing him quietly.

He's tugging at the covers on his side of the bed when he feels the familiar pressure of TTK pushing at his limbs. "Okay, okay," he says, "I'm coming."

Kon unravels slightly from his self-imposed cocoon. "Tiiiim."

Giving up on the covers, Tim lets himself be pulled into Kon's orbit. He shifts until he's comfortable in Kon's arms, nose pressed up against Kon's collarbone. He feels a little like a glorified teddy bear. Kon squeezes him slightly, snuffling at Tim's hair.

"If I get sick," Tim mumbles, yawning, "I'm blaming you."

"Okay," Kon murmurs back. "I'll take care of you."

#timkon #tim drake #kon el kent #conner kent #red robin #beanfics #timkon fanfiction #yes i am back on my bullshit writing blorbos falling asleep on each other

[adamworu]

The Subtle Horror of Evangelion

What keeps us all hooked to Eva time and time again? You get through your initial, confused watch of either Evangelion endgame, probably sometime in your adolescence wondering what the hell it is you just watched. The original source material is suffused with unsettling imagery, and sometimes too-close-for-comfort shorts. It’s so much to process that one watch is never enough. The imagery isn’t enough, however, because the mid-to-late-90s series comes with things you’ll pick up the more you focus on certain characters’ struggles or the interesting world-building. They arise little by little with every re-watch, adding onto what interested you in Eva to begin with.

There’s always that little voice asking you “What it is that really draws me here?”

Oh. The horrors.

The tragedy of it all.  

These things never leave you the second you bear witness to them, whether you become aware of them or not. You’re disturbed over it, a tad worried, no doubt, but you’re strangely hooked.

Horror works better on limitation, it’s why found footage capturing pale, ghastly, monstrosities of the deep wood will always stand as exponentially terrifying. While most all of us have taken cracks at Eva’s budget at some point, that’s what really drives these terrors home. Its low budget nature made it work.

Evangelion has commentary which forces a viewer to reflect. Most no one enjoys that. It’s the fear, however, that has its audience come back. Evangelion’s reflection alone isn’t what gives Eva it’s charm decades after its run. It’s the little things, most everyone misses, the anxieties, the terrors, all of it. Most of those things, fly over a lot of fans’ heads.

Buckle up, there’s a lot to go through…. (warning for mentions of abuse, body horror, means of suicide, nudity, blood, and gore)

Table of Contents

I. Icebergs for Dummies

Tier 1: The Tip of the Iceberg

II. The Hedgehog’s Dilemma

III. The AT-Field as a Universal Metaphor

IV. Kensuke Aida + War Idealism

V. Shinji is the Audience Surrogate

VI. Abuse in Evangelion

Tier 2: Just Below the Tip

VII. The Infamous Elevator Scene

VIII. Naoko + Casper

IX. The Other End of Existential Horror

Tier 3: The Body of The Iceberg

X. War Horrors of ‘Ambivalence’

XI. Unit-01 Berserk Scene

XII. Dummy Plugs + CNS

XIII. Kaworu + Adam’s True Power

Tier 4: Pre-Abyss

XIV. The “Nihilist” Lens

XV. The True Nature of Sync Rates

XVI. Unit 01+ MPE Gorging Scenes

XVII. Ancient Ruins of Arka

Tier 5: The Abyss

XVIII. Split Second Misato Death

XIX. Humans Are The Villains in Eva

XX. The Ultimate Paradox

XXI. Conclusion

I. Icebergs for Dummies

For those unaware, the iceberg image illustrates that things are much deeper than they appear, just like an actual iceberg. You’ve probably seen this selfsame iceberg--- separated by tiers--- a few times looking through late night internet rabbit holes (Putting it out in the open: I’m personally guilty of this!), fictional or non. It helps you understand why you’re so enticed to certain material, that you’d revisit them. The highest parts of the iceberg are the things in the material most everyone knows, the surface level stuff. The lower you go, however, the lesser known the parts of the material are. These are the things the person are aware of.

Eva has some iceberg illustrations if you look around, albeit they don’t go through the more saddening, sometimes graphic factors of Eva, only theories navigating through Eva’s universe. Evangelion is so deceptively packed with blink-and-you’ll-miss-it subtleties that if an iceberg were centered on that, the diagram would be packed. And I’m being generous as I write this.

A few ground rules, before we begin: The iceberg will deal with the more obscure and dark material as the tiers get higher rather than it only being relegated to obscure bits. The lower the tier, the higher the iceberg and the more subtler the anxieties which graduate into horrors the deeper you go.

Yes, Evangelion is occasionally horrifying. No, Evangelion is not lovecraftian. I think people use the term lovecraftian way too freely. It’s not enough to see something with (sometimes too many) limbs twisted in ungodly angles. Or legs where legs shouldn’t be. The same applies for creatures assuming forms we don’t entirely comprehend. Eva has never delved into the angels being incomprehensibly terrifying specifically because they come from a cosmic expanse.

Some of these actual horrors, big and small,  hit you after adolescence, something that makes you feel deeply for the characters’ dilemmas. It’s a feeling that grows and sometimes aches, rather than fades over time for many of us.

Tier 1: The Tip of the Iceberg

II. Hedgehog’s Dilemma

III. The AT Field as a Universal Metaphor

IV. Kensuke Aida + War Idealism

V. Shinji As the Audience Surrogate

VI. Abuse in Evangelion

II. Hedgehog’s Dilemma

Evangelion has its hand in so many psychological and philosophical cookie jars, from Freud, to Maslow, Johari, as well as Dostoevsky. The very tip of the Subtle Horrors of Evangelion Iceberg is something viewers are introduced to in the fourth episode of the series. It is one of the many psychological concepts dotted throughout the original show. Out of all those psychological concepts, this is the most explicit and most recurring.

The Hedgehog’s Dilemma describes the conundrum of two hedgehogs. The closer two hedgehogs become to one another, the more they harm each other with their spines. If you want to properly live, you need the closeness and intimacy of others. By allowing yourself to be close, however, you end up at great risk of being hurt. It’s the very reason what drives those who live to become guarded. Being perpetually apprehensive or building up walls isn’t a remedy for pains, however. The Hedgehog’s Dilemma isn’t just about why people become guarded after relationships ended on bad notes. It’s about the overall inevitability of pain.

Life is a continual push-pull of relationships, because we’re all creatures of comfort. We guard ourselves to varying degrees and sometimes even tell ourselves we won’t get close again, but personal comfort is one of our most ultimate drives.

The Hedgehog’s Dilemma not only describes that harm happens to us anyway, but illustrates that because comfort is universal we seek companionship regardless.

III. The AT-Field as a Universal Metaphor

The AT-Field is the most crucial rabbit hole in understanding the largest meta-narrative of Evangelion.

If Hedgehog’s Dilemma explains the what and the why people become more or less guarded, then AT-Fields explain the how. People build up walls around themselves all the time. You walk away from someone because they crack a smile at you... and it seems off.

Because you feel an anxious pang.

That’s an AT Field.

AT-Fields, or Absolute Terror Fields bear a few metaphors, one of which being boundaries. You see it as Shinji’s fear of becoming intimate, knowing the future implications or Asuka’s masculine protest (putting up a front). We can see an excellent example of the AT Field used by Asuka, her “Wall of Jericho” in episode 9.

You also see it manifested through the angels, the strange creatures in Eva who supposedly desire to merge with Adam, their mother. Seeing this in the angels makes you realize that the AT Field is actually a metaphor for boundaries which implicates us all. In episode 22, Arael, 15th angel, seeks to understand Asuka. The angel uses its AT-Field (a beam of light) no, its boundary, to breach Asuka’s boundaries. 

AT-Fields can be used to not only build up personal walls but to breach them as well. The irony of Arael’s action is that Arael’s AT-Field being erected while it floats just over Earth’s gravitational field makes it immensely similar to the Second Child; they’re both guarded.

The AT-Field is a funny sort of thing because it also sometimes explains how two people who are so alike can be guarded from one another. Sometimes you gain contempt for someone because they’re too much like your least favorable traits. You see this with Shinji and Asuka, both children without their mother desiring validation. Shinji calls Asuka a child midway into episode 9 and Asuka isn’t shy on voicing ideas of Shinji as dense or immature. They’re throwing stones in glass houses.

AT Fields are used to get the user out of dangers both physical and perceived. Sachiel, 3rd angel in the original series’ pilot episode, uses its AT-Field, in the form of flotation, to get itself from enemy fire. It never shows this until it is attacked first.

AT Fields are also responsible for one’s identity and physicality in Eva. Without the AT Field you don’t really exist. When Rei assumes the form of the person the character being cast into Instrumentality loved most in End of Evangelion, she’s causing the character to give up their AT Field. With that gone, they lose their physicality, turning into LCL (given the lovely term ‘tanged’ by fans). The ‘tanged’ individual suffers metaphorical death. Evangelion argues that in order for one to exist, others must perceive you and you must perceive you, a point best illustrated in episode 16. Since everyone is converted to LCL, no one really ‘exists.’ Rei describes this unnerving state as the inability of differentiating who you are and others, since everyone lacks a physical state without AT-Fields. Metaphorical death can be argued as worse than physical, since we all exist to make an impression of some sort. It’s what ties all the Eva cast together and the cause of their dilemmas. Validation. You can be living, yet very much forgotten or simply unknown.

There is living and there is “living.”

You can’t “die” unless someone knows you. You were never there. AT Fields are the thing that make us live, but as a drawback, prevents us from understanding each other fully. Kaworu states in episode 24 that AT Fields are the wall of the mind and the heart of the soul, an unapproachable piece of sanctuary. When all else is taken from us, all we have left is our place of respite.

I’d also like to pitch the saddening reality that the AT-Fields are what prevent us from understanding angels as a whole, our genetic siblings as scared of this world as we are. The psychological angels want to understand us, that much is true. The angels, however, use forms of communication at the expense of our boundaries. Because people greatly value boundaries it makes it hard for us to comprehend angels. The creatures are hardly malicious when you realize they wonder why we all do things that actually hurt us, as well as the fact that they do understand our minds. But, because they breach our boundaries, we become even more wary of the (mostly) unknown. Angels may be us, but the strange forms they take are something we aren’t familiar with. The feeling is mutual with angels, wondering why there are many of us, our forms and outward appearances so identical. It’s a truth as old as time that we all fear the unknown.

The anxiety of an AT Field means comprehending that there’s very little chance to 100% get others. Because we’re all wary in some degree, because we’re set in an idea or perception of someone, even if the someone in the past no longer applies. It’s not healthy for you to continue dwelling on relationships not meant to be, keeping yourself up at night asking why, because both of you have closed off each other for good. There’s always that chance the other can come back and if they do seek to understand despite past hardships, that’s good. If they don’t, all you can do is move on and accept it.

IV. Kensuke Aida + War Idealism

Kensuke is one of Shinji’s classmates, a supporting player in the series. He’s close with Toji Suzuhara, a boy who takes his anger on Shinji, after finding out that his sister has been injured during Shinji’s fight with 3rd angel Sachiel. As Suzuhara beats him down, Kensuke downplays the incident. Kensuke’s and Toji’s relationship is particularly interesting because the latter is affected to some degree by war (the war by humanity to prevent our destruction by angels). Kensuke glorifies the sentient, implicitly eldritch, multi-armored war-machines.

Kensuke can be best described as the ‘wow, cool robots’ drawing you’ve probably seen floating around. This is in relation to Gundam’s war commentary, but replace Gundam with Eva. Kensuke is enamored with the Evangelions and totally, willfully ignorant to the war horrors. Adolescents are forced to be the salvation of humanity, feeling every bit of damage to their own bodies whenever the Evangelion takes any hurt. Even after the war for humanity is long over, the pilots will be afflicted with traumas that will always hang over them.

Kensuke’s glorification is also what draws him to be Shinji’s friend. He uses Shinji’s status as a way of becoming a pilot himself by meeting up with Misato, putting himself at the cockpit of a strange creature magnificent machine.

When Toji becomes hospitalized after his battle in a hijacked Unit-03 vs. A Dummy System-controlled Unit-01, Kensuke expresses discontent at not being a pilot. He’s annoyed because “everyone” but him is a pilot.

Thing is, Kensuke isn’t heartless, just ignorant. Idealism is one of the uglier things that runs thick in the heart of Evangelion. His is one of many cases of unhealthy idealism in Eva, another example of making it difficult for those living to understand one another.

V. Shinji as the Audience Surrogate

Shinji as the audience surrogate isn’t always touched up on, but is sort of understood subconsciously by a lot of the viewers. Shinji’s character is specific, yet so generalized that him being a surrogate for the audience just… works. Don’t believe me? Shinji gets two psychological exploration-based episodes whereas Asuka and Rei each have one. Episodes 16 and 24 are both psychological angel episodes, albeit the latter is more in-series subversive. The 24th episode doesn’t involve a breach of subconscious boundary, but the pilot (Shinji) is in the hot-seat, being made aware of their issues. Leliel, 12th angel, contacts Shinji in the former of these. Both characters talk to one another, shown as a series of horizontal lines and vertical lines, sometimes intersecting. These lines are a strong reference to the Johari Window, a tool in psychology which helps someone become more aware of themselves. The Window’s quadrants are as follows

1. the part known to the self

2. the part known to others

3. the part known to the self and others

4. the part known to no one

Leliel also states that the self only exists of one perceives themselves as well as others. The angel also states that Shinji could better his reality, to which Shinji absolves himself of responsibility by arguing the horrible state of his reality. It’s a subtle pushing to Shinji and by extension the viewer into free will. Kaworu builds up on these concepts with Eva’s in-universe concept for boundaries. Free Will versus Determinism is brought up here, with the idea that AT-Fields are brought up because the living (again, not people – emotional complexities aren’t only human) will them into existence. By exercising free will, it means enduring pain, one of Shinji’s, and again the audience’s greatest fears. Any relationship has pains and conflicts. This is all a buildup of free will, determinism, self-awareness, and the Hedgehog’s Dilemma. Understanding all of these means swallowing the “pain is inevitable” pill. The problem with much of us is that we like the idea of relationships rather than being in one. We want to feel validated but without the conflict, even if the conflict can be solved. We’re all Shinji because we’re all aware to life’s hellish catch-22s, so we run. There’s times in our lives where we run as far as possible from these woes, these truths, but there’s pain in running too. It’s why escapism seems like such a viable action for some of us.

Pain is inevitable, but pain can be mitigated.

More damning evidence to Shinji being a viewer stand-in lies in either endgame of Evangelion (pun intended). In EoE, after the Komm Susser Tod sequence of everyone on Earth being tanged, we’re treated to a shot of EoE’s live audience.

We hear Shinji’s voice about his reality while he talks to Rei toward EoE’s end. There are shots of the city, of people going about their daily lives cementing that this is about us. End of Evangelion shows us a less favorable side of Shinji, a departure from the lauded end series “Congratulations” scene, in which he does understand free will rather than perpetually dwell on negatives. Shinji reacts unfavorably toward Asuka in EoE after his mother’s speech to the audience that ‘anywhere can be paradise’ and Shinji stating he doesn’t know where his happiness resides. Shinji (We) still has a ways to go if he wants to be a better person.

It’s probably why many of us are either inclined to champion Shinji or harangue him, and either reaction is fair. Many of us are aware of audience surrogates, but never to this extent. Shinji isn’t his best person, but he can be. Being his best means self-reflection. Droves of people who first were exposed to Evangelion were teens, and again many of Shinji’s woes are specific yet so generalized, hence our feelings of defense and possibly disgust.

No one likes scathing, yet accurate call-outs on their person, but they’re paramount for us to understand ourselves and others.

VI. Abuse in Evangelion

One of the worst things recurring in all of original Evangelion is a bevvy of abuses.

Abuse comes in many shapes and forms and it’s many characters’ realities. Abuse happens not because the universe ‘wills it’ (determinism aka, ‘that’s just how people are’). Abuse, be it conscious emotional absence, actual neglect, among other ungodly acts fly though the cast.

Abuse is cyclical and a lot of those doing it often get away with murder because they have power.

Much of Eva is comprised of children being forced to sort through adults’ emotional baggage. Those children become adults and the cycle continues.

We all know a Gendo. Or even perhaps a Misato. Hell, even a Ritsuko.

Anno states that Gendo’s character is of a societal meta-text, which explains many viewers’ ire in relation to the character.  He’s responsible for many of the seedy goings-on in Evangelion be it the financial (see: Jet Alone’s orchestrated out-of-control nature to give NERV more funding) or abuses (see: Rei, Shinji, Ritsuko, and, Naoko). It’s for this reason why Gendo’s actions are a sore spot for a lot of fans.

Anno: I’m not sure that it’s a real father [that Gendo represents]. Well, not a father in the sense of a parent with a blood relation to his child, but more, I think, [in the sense of being] a representative of society or the system. That’s why he has that expression.

Takekuma: So, he’s kind of amorphous.

Anno: The angels are the same. I made them appear amorphous in that way because, for me, society is unclear, the enemy is unclear.

Takekuma: Gendo is [a representation of] the boundries or the pressure of society itself.

Anno: That might be it. Perhaps Gendo is [a representation of] society itself.

http://wiki.evageeks.org/Statements_by_Evangelion_Staff

After many re-watches of certain Eva episodes, it just hit me, as I’m writing this why I’m sometimes apprehensive on an adult-exclusive lens of the show. This happens a lot in adolescence and our struggles are made trivial because of the mishandled baggage. As children, you’re meant to be subservient to parental whims. You have this sort of obligation to solve their problems. Give them closure. It doesn’t even need to be parental baggage, but just from adults in general. You see the way the adults act not just with the children but with each other. You see the way Gendo justifies neglecting Shinji, objectifying Naoko and Ritsuko or Naoko’s emotional absences as a mother to her daughter (also manifested through the MAGI). It’s these immature excuses as to why they can’t extend empathy to those around them.

It’s always excuses.

Eva’s original series has always been a show about children.

Tier 2: Just Below the Tip

VII. The Infamous Elevator Scene

VIII. Naoko + Casper

IX. The Other End of Existential Horror

VII. The Infamous Elevator Scene

The Elevator Scene is a sequence that sometimes gets glossed over due to Evangelion’s fleeting budget.  It took me years to realize the true gravity of the awkward silence of both the 22nd episode and its Director’s Cut version. The Director’s Cut version has Asuka abruptly jerking in the silence,  but that blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment speaks volumes. Understanding the scene means understanding why Asuka quietly stews in her anger. Understanding why Asuka stews means understanding Asuka from her debut to her emotional breakdown.

Asuka’s appearance in the 8th episode, Asuka Strikes!, is marked by a bold persona that carries on until the end. She isn’t shy on imparting her prowess to Shinji, stating that Units 00 as well as 01 were the prototype and the test type, respectively. Her Evangelion, Unit-02 is the finished product. She even states that she graduated from university. Despite these impressive feats so early in adolescence, the only time in which they’re noted is when Asuka talks of them. Misato takes in both Shinji and Asuka, but only ever “dotes” on Shinji. Gendo pays attention to Shinji because he pilots Unit-01, and 01 contains the soul of his late wife. Rei is the clone of Gendo’s late wife, hence Gendo’s attention and overall creepy, selfish obsession with her. Asuka and Shinji’s relationship, with Misato as their caretaker strongly mimics a Golden Child and the Second Fiddle. The only difference is, Shinji gains more attention due to Gendo’s and Misato’s respective baggage. Again, Eva is a series where children are forced to handle the baggage (with no break in the cycle) and when the child doesn’t have anything the adult particularly can clue in on, they become neglected.

That’s Asuka’s dilemma.

It’s why Asuka forces herself to grow up.

It’s why Asuka is driven to be competitive to Shinji and Rei, later growing contemptible at both.

Asuka suffers a few curses, one of which being the youngest, the inevitability of being consciously sidelined dawns on her, leading to her selfsame breakdown toward series’ end. She aligns youth with trivialization, so naturally, she’d front with the opposite. She never gets help in relation to her period. Misato and Ritsuko realize something is up with Asuka but they never really offer her the support.

There’s also the flashback to her trauma in episode 22’s beginning. She’s replaced by her mother post-Contact Experiment (which led to a deterioration of her mental health) via a doll that looks like her, red hair in pigtails. It’s the leading factor to her feigned boldness, her ego. The way in which she is marginalized in the series brings it all back.

Rei breaks the silence with a few words of compassion and all Asuka can do is express disbelief. She mistakes compassion for contempt.

For pity.

The idea that anyone would extend kindness, especially now of all times, is unbelievable.

Asuka also experiences a dilemma here, a dilemma those like her face. She already knows what it means to be vulnerable and deeply hurt, but she needs to make herself vulnerable because now, more than ever, she needs the support. Being vulnerable will cause past traumas to flood back in full force, but by stewing she deprives herself of any support. Rei offers that support, but a few words of support in a wave of trivialization can’t help but feel a bit too strange.

Asuka’s greatest anxiety is realized in the twenty second episode. It’s of being and staying second fiddle, that she’s always been set up to fail. Even 2 episodes after the fact,  in which she actually starves herself does she realize once more how she’s permanently ‘below’ others.

Asuka’s curse finds itself in real life, and it’s for that reason why I believe some find themselves resonating with her. Asuka’s gradual descent into bitterness is something I find myself waking up some nights thinking about after 7 years going through Eva; hers is a cautionary tale on being emotionally distant to cries of a damaged youth. Casually imparted knowledge of past achievements, and the competitive attitude mixed with embitterment, some of which from a genuine place but also a product of neglect. We were forced to play second fiddle, we forced ourselves to grow up to feel more legitimate, forced to carry an ire that stews because it seems no one listens.

VIII. Naoko+Casper

The late Naoko Akagi is a woman of multitudes. Those multitudes are compartmentalized into the 3 MAGI. They are Balthasar, Melchior, and Casper.

Casper shows itself to be the most prominent aspect of Naoko’s personality, her as a woman. Ritsuko states that, after the defeat of Iruel, 11th angel, that Casper is the part of her mother which remained that way to the end.

Balthasar and Melchior have been bested, be it by rival MAGI, or Iruel’s assault. This calls back to the fact that Naoko’s other facets aren’t anywhere near as prominent. Naoko has cited her own emotional negligence, of only showing emotions should it ever benefit her.

Casper on 3 occasions fights tooth and nail, Iruel’s assault, an attack by multiple MAGI in End of Evangelion or the defiance of Ritsuko activating the self-destruct sequence. Ritsuko does this to seek vengeance against Gendo for coming to the immense realization that he never genuinely cared for her. Gendo has always used Ritsuko for her body. This would destroy NERV, meaning killing herself and Gendo.

Then you realize why Casper overrides the sequence.

Casper’s stubborn behavior wasn’t actually to defend NERV but to protect Gendo. Casper’s defiance aka Naoko’s emotional absence toward her daughter allowed Gendo to kill a bewildered, rightfully angered Ritsuko.

The saddest part of Casper’s, no, Naoko’s choice is that Naoko got away with murder. Evangelion is a story about children dealing with the selfishness of adults and the adults never receiving justice for their wrongdoings. The relationship between Ritsuko and Naoko is an excellent example that this doesn’t just implicate the young pilots. Ritsuko dies in End of Evangelion with the truth that her mother, as a woman, in the end chose the man who manipulated both of them.

IX. The Other End of Existential Horror

Some spend their whole lives trying to make a mark. Others can’t help but be known.

People get smart sometimes to get themselves out of a current situation. Kaworu and Rei’s existences are such that they’re deadlocked from living. Their existences are the product of an experiment, to be later heavily watched and raised as the Last Messenger. The latter is the result of Gendo’s obsession with his late wife.

Kaworu and Rei’s existential crises are opposite from the rest of the cast; while others do their damndest to become known, they cannot be unknown. Rei’s character centering more around her identity than other characters is also initially and sneakily alluded in the opening.

The Johari Window is a tool encouraging self-awareness in the person, alluded to twice in the show, with the second time being in the sixteenth episode. Both usages of that illustration, for Rei, and Shinji drive home crucial aspects of the meta-text.

This would also tie Rei to Shinji in End of Evangelion forcing Shinji to reflect on his own awareness and will. Rei is an astute, young girl whose arc is about her personal relationship with identity, something she is all too familiar with due to her objectified nature. Rei’s arc is even more so entrenched in identity than other characters that she is one of the characters imparting personal and universal realities.

Ayanami Rei’s existence from start to finish is inundated with the issues of others, causing her to internalize being always expendable. In Rei’s Poem in episode 14, it becomes clear that she sees herself based on usage. She likens herself to a field of flowers, which slyly alludes to the Dummy System’s “parts” 9 episodes later, other Reis.

  Rei is seen as malleable vessel which houses thoughts rather than her own person and she can’t do anything about it. So she resigns to her reality. Even if she does tell off Gendo in End of Evangelion for his objectifying, she’s not even out of the woods. She never will be.

I used to think Rei’s “slap” to the face to the man with the (most) baggage was empowering. Then I learned about abuse during adolescence, how kids who lack a support system act while away from their abusers. Even saying an emphatic “fuck you” to your abusers isn’t enough to be a happy ending. Rei is a girl who lacks a support system and she suffers from it. Start to finish.

Kaworu’s crises are much trickier to pinpoint because there’s so little to work with. He doesn’t get an episode dealing with personal, subconscious explorations. Getting his character means first getting how Evangelion re-contextualizes what “Ode to Joy” symbolizes. It also means understanding the AT-Field and most people won’t pick that up on an initial foray. Or maybe even a second. Most people don’t pick up that the AT Field implicates anything living and physical or its metaphor for boundaries and identity. There’s the common misconception that Evangelion is a “human” show.

Kaworu marks off his appearance humming “Ode to Joy” while Shinji wonders who to turn to. It’s a song generally known for its jovial nature, but most importantly, Ode to Joy is:

known also as the “Choral” Symphony. Its finale is a musical setting of Friedrich von Schiller ’s “Ode to Joy,” a hymn to the unity and freedom of humanity.

http://www.dictionary.com/browse/ninth-symphony

The Choral Symphony assumes a more horrific context later on. Kaworu is the last messenger and what his action is would lead to the mass annihilation to lilin/human or angels. ‘Unity of man’ is changed in Eva’s context – it marks either unity of man or the death of man. It doesn’t matter who Kaworu allows unity to, because his hands would be stained with death anyway. Then you realize why Kaworu deploys his most powerful AT Field during his descent to Heaven’s Door.

This is his reality.

Kaworu’s status as the Angel of Free Will isn’t about him being the only complex angel, as a lot of people think. It’s about being the sole individual handing that freedom to others.

You realize his terrifying dilemma goes to the tune of being feared for his own existence as an angel (which he notes to Shinji) and not being able to properly live.

Sometimes you ”hurt” people by existing.

Sometimes people hate you for the simple act of existing.

Kaworu’s and Rei’s terror is the other end of existential horror, that you can’t help but forced to be known. Sometimes you have knowledge but aren’t allowed to do much with it.

Tier 3: The Body of The Iceberg

X. War Horrors of ‘Ambivalence’

XI. Unit-01 Berserk Scene

XII. Dummy Plugs + CNS

XIII. Kaworu + Adam’s True Power

X. War Horrors of ‘Ambivalence’

Episode 18 is where anxieties graduate into horrors both implied and visceral. Unease hangs over the episode, with the mystery of Unit-04’s disappearance and tests being done on Unit-03. Misato tells Shinji that because tests would be done, there’d be a pilot there. Misato uneasily withholds this info from Shinji and Kensuke breaks the silence with his recurring desire of being a pilot, still ignorant of the war horrors. There’s a subtlety that Shinji picks up on with Toji but not enough to put two and two together: that the big-eater himself isn’t feeling so hot.

The continual chirp of cicadas and birds nor the peel of the school bell are enough to break the unease of the viewer or of Toji. Toji goes from indirectly being affected by war vs angels to being chosen, drafted even, a child at the first line of defense for the apocalypse. We get a flashback of him beating down Shinji, before it cuts back to present day Toji. He will be in Shinji’s shoes.

Toji balls a fist, a recurring theme in Eva, to the tune of “What is your hand for?” Toji is finally  about to take things into his own hands.

Asuka takes a few cracks at Shinji to Hikari that he hasn’t quite gotten the memo, but when Shinji asks her even she’s halted in words.

Then the day comes.

Tests are being done and suddenly Unit-03 goes  rogue with Toji in her (note the Evangelions have the souls of the pilots’ mothers, save for Rei). Unit-03’s’s strange behavior is revealed to be the work of the 13th angel, Bardiel. Shinji’s ignorance is made worse by Misato’s absence (with Misato telling Ritsuko she’d tell Shinji the pilot’s info after the tests). Units 00 through 02 are sent out for the new threat and Shinji sees this new threat. Anxiety rises.

The song “Marking Time Waiting for Death” accentuates the anxiety. Unit-03’s silhouette eerily contrasts with the sun, her body slightly hunched and approaching slowly.

Fear washes over Shinji when he deduces that with an Evangelion inside, there must be a pilot.

Yet he still doesn’t know.

The other pilots are aware, and show reluctance to the revelation. A hijacked Unit-03 sets herself on Asuka, Rei, and even strangling Shinji. Shinji allows the angel-hijacked-being to strangle him, because killing another human being is simply horrific.

 Eva has its hand in the war morals cookie jar here because Shinji stands at a conundrum, to other let this creature take his life or to murder flesh and blood. This dilemma goes double-time in war. Gendo asks why Shinji hasn’t dealt with the 13th yet, with a somewhat horrified Shinji pleading  about the pilot. Gendo commands for the unfinished Dummy System to override Shinji’s controls and then suddenly...silence….

The Dummy Controlled Unit-01 springs back and we’re treated to a close-up of Unit-03/Bardi3l being strangled. 

A nauseating crunch sounds and the unit goes limp. A controlled Unit-01 proceeds to raise hell on the incapacitated enemy, resulting in the unit’s blood and guts flowing through the streets. NERV’s personnel can’t do anything save for become fearful at the Dummy System’s capabilities. Terrible, visceral noises sound one by one as blows strike, as the unit’s severed limbs and blood splatters riddle the urban battlefield. Shinji hears every second, every squelch and splat.

Imagine the pain of 03’s pilot.

But the terrors don’t cease here. 

01 doesn’t stop at just raising hell on the incapacitated 03, and we’re treated to another close-up shot of 01 tightly holding onto 03’s entry plug, before crushing it.

Somewhere away, Misato receives news that Unit-03 has been dispatched as an angel. Shinji feels the weight of having actually killed someone, before Misato actually breaks the news that the pilot is not only alive but that the greatly injured pilot is his classmate.

It never really hit me until now how this scene holds another horrifying subtlety. Compare this to episode 3, where Toji’s first interaction with Shinji involved him punching him, the very scene playing at this episode’s beginning. The 18th episode ends now with ,Toji and Shinji are both joined in the same camp, of children emotionally and physically marred by war, not able to fully control their situations.

XI. Unit-01 Berserk Sequence

Shinji stands in a situation where he can no longer take the terrors aligned with the Evangelion. He’s gone from sustaining injuries great and small from combat with the eldritch angels, to indirectly harming a friend through it. He resigns from his position as a pilot, understandably running away even with the approach of the 14th angel.

After a talk with Kaji about how he can control his future and he only, Shinji once again puts himself at the forefront of further pains. He must once more thrust himself to the terrors that align with the war-machines whilst struggling with other traumas.

During his fight against Zeruel, his Evangelion dies out and it all floods back to him. Shinji once again finds himself at a position of no power, frantically pressing at his controls to no avail.

He can only hear blow after blow of the 14th’s onslaught. He and Unit-01 are at their most vulnerable.

Until Unit-01 springs back.

W hat follows is the famous Berserk sequence, a scene whose terror can be thanks to Evangelion’s low budget.

We see the Evangelion in all her terror and the sort of off-ness that carries in this scene.

Episode 19 has no problems on treating us to front-row tickets to terror.

Unit-01 snatches part of Zeruel’s appendage and adds it to her mass. A sickening squelch sounds and her new appendage contorts into place in an instant. 

She moves over to her incapacitated, angelic meal and doesn’t hesitate to chow down. The shots feel too personal yet nowhere near in the sense of the show’s meta-textual reflections. It’s almost like stumbling on a cryptid and when she shoots a look at the viewer, it feels as if she’s looking at us, like we’ve interrupted her dinner. Or perhaps she did finish the meal... and she’s in the mood for seconds? Perhaps even thirds?

The bizarre and eldritch nature of the Evangelions goes full force with this imagery. Episodes 2 and 16 laid the foundation of how off the Evangelion Unit-01 was with how she openly mutilates her targets. Or even the unsettling roar of Unit-01 that’s not entirely bestial. The sound is straddles a line between the blood-curdling bestial and the human. But here? Eva Unit-01’s position, from her hunched figure, to her more feral position as she feasts, feels far too organic...and far too human.

The Evas themselves aren’t human, but the souls housed within are. Eva’s souls are souls of the respective pilots’ mothers, an example of the mother and child symbolism omnipresent in Neon Genesis Evangelion.

Shinji’s mother is Yui and as we go through the series, we realize the s2 engine appliance was intentional. An s2 engine offers infinite stores of energy and this is needed for Instrumentality. With the s2 engine within her grasp and the fact that Evas don’t subsist on anything, this would make the consumption of 14th completely recreational.

It’s super tempting to frame this scene as containing some abomination that now stands unchained and indiscriminate in its targets, but it isn’t. It’s sort of understandable because Units 00 and 02 don’t come close to exhibiting this sort of behavior nor were they in this circumstance. Neither Unit-00 nor 02  have any desires in regard to Instrumentality. In the end, we should look to Yui and her own endgame, because Yui’s running the show here.

XII. Dummy Plugs + CNS

Ritsuko states the Dummy Plugs are machines which imitate pilot’s thinking. There’s a bit more than the possibility of this being 100% AI due to the apparatus Rei is in.

This very likely implies the respective person’s thought processes added with AI programmed in a way which best “describes” the pilot (basically how they are perceived). In episode 17, Rei is situated in this apparatus strongly resembling the central nervous system, the brain and the spinal cord.

{The central nervous system CNS is responsible for integrating sensory information and responding accordingly. It consists of two main components:

1. The spinal cord serves as a conduit for signals between the brain and the rest of the body. It also controls simple musculoskeletal reflexes without input from the brain.

2. The brain is responsible for integrating most sensory information and coordinating body function, both consciously and unconsciously. Complex functions such as thinking and feeling as well as regulation of homeostasis are attributable to different parts of the brain.

https://mcb.berkeley.edu/courses/mcb135e/central.html

Ritsuko imparts the unsettling revelation about Rei and by extension the Dummy Plant itself (after Misato coerced her into learning about Rei). The Reis are the core of the Dummy Plugs (and the System used to brutalize a hijacked Unit-03 and its trapped pilot). This scene adds more to the extent of Rei’s objectification, of her being replaced. It adds on to Rei III’s comment of being ‘the third.’

Rei isn’t savage by any means but the sheer brutality of Dummy System’d Unit-01 5 episodes prior may hint at her straightforward nature.

I’d like to pitch that Ritsuko’s approach to Rei’s Dummy Data was also the product of her subtle animosity toward Rei. When she refers to the Dummy Plug as a machine which mimics human thinking, she’s talking about Rei. She also refers to her similarly in episode 23 by referring to Rei as spare parts, as if Rei herself is some soulless machine whose parts can be switched out if need be. This could also call back to Rei’s poem, in which she calls herself a vessel which holds human thoughts.

Another question remains: how does Kaworu play into this?

The MPEs (the Mass Production Evangelion series) use Kaworu’s Dummy data, meaning that there are cloned Kaworus stored off somewhere, perhaps floating with soulless smiles the same as Rei has.

Treated as spare parts.

This also implies that Kaworu is more or less reduced to an object.

What’s more disturbing is the nature of the MPEs gratuitous method of ravaging and mutilating Unit-02 and by extension Asuka.

Kaworu hasn’t ever demonstrated any degree of malice, so this can’t really insinuate a ‘Kaworu is secretly evil’ narrative. But this can tie back to a recurring theme of humans fearing and despising angels. It’s because of this that the revelation of our genetically identical nature or the fact that they can comprehend our psychology is framed in-show as kind of shocking. It is because we’re so disturbed at the angels’ existence (or anything else we don’t comprehend) that we view them as inherently savage in nature. Kaworu’s quick-to-perceive personality most likely translated itself along with the AI. This would also rule in the somewhat strategic way in which the MPEs act against Asuka, exploiting her attack patterns through surprise attacks.

Some of Kaworu’s as well as Rei’s Dummy Data are the product of universal (Kaworu) and personal (Rei) contempt by people. Let that sink in.

XIII. Kaworu’s + Adam’s True Power

The bottom of the fridge horror portion of this iceberg is something that has subtly plagued me for years. We’ve only ever caught glimpses of Kaworu’s abilities in his debut episode. I picked up on it little by little with each re-watch of the episode, with every other time his abilities dawning on me. If I wasn’t focusing on how his character fits in the greater framework of Evangelion, I was cluing in on his abilities.

One of his abilities is being able to block out light, magnetism, and subatomic particles. Some of the forces which make up the universe. This witnessed by the viewer when he realizes the whole of humanity’s welfare hangs by a thread, due to the coexistence of angels and Adam.

Adam.

Adam’s soul lies within Kaworu. Adam. Who utilized an Anti-AT Field which caused Second Impact. An Anti-AT Field, which killed off much of the Katsuragi Crew in Antarctica.

This makes Kaworu the most powerful angel in the original Evangelion series.

Eva has shown that ownership of an angel’s soul (or partially, if you’re onboard the Rei I is in Unit-00 theory) allows the person to inherit the angel’s abilities through Rei. Rei blocks off Kaworu’s immensely powerful field with one of her own, canceling out both as a result. As we know, AT Fields for people are a figurative affair. People lack the physiology to exhibit a physical AT Field because they don’t have cores like angels do. Angels’ souls when possessed by humans have a sort of ability to circumvent parts of human physiology (if you’re looking for the whole package, you should eat angel’s flesh too). Rei also shows the ability to float, implied in episode 24 and shown explicitly in End of Evangelion.

But this raises a few questions about the last messenger is the ability to block out some of the forces of the universe Adam’s powers or Kaworu’s? Another ability that continues to plague me the more I think about it is Kaworu’s AT-Field usage on Heaven’s Door to bypass its lock.

We haven’t actually seen Adam’s other powers (if the angel has any) because the it’s anti-AT Field was halted via Lance of Longinus. Other than its ethereal appearance in flashbacks, we only see an incapacitated Adam in embryonic form. That’s it. We don’t know if Adam exhibits any other powers due to this impediment. If Adam does have more powers, this would add onto both the fridge horror factor of Adam and Kaworu.

Tier 4: Pre-Abyss

XIV. The “Nihilist” Lens

XV. The True Nature of Sync Rates

XVI. Unit 01+ MPE Gorging Scenes

XVII. Ancient Ruins of Arka

XIV. The “Nihilist” Lens

There’s something that implicates the whole cast. Something that goes beyond the meaning of the AT-Field, and the all-too-known Hedgehog’s Dilemma.

Eva is filled to the very brim with psychological concepts, but there’s one thing which ties this all together. It goes much larger than the desire to become validated or cycles of abuse and unresolved issues to a newer generation.

Free Will Vs. Determinism ties the entire cast together and is disturbing in its own right. It not only ties the cast together but also contributes to Eva’s meta-narrative.

Episode 16’s sequence with Leliel, Shinji, and the Johari Window gives little breadcrumbs to this psychological dilemma.  Leliel teaches Shinji about his own identity as well as slowly ushering him to a sense of self-awareness. Leliel also attempts to usher Shinji out of filtering reality with only convenient parts. Shinji argues that he can’t really be held culpable for his actions, because the one and only reality is that reality is awful, bar none. Not his reality, but reality as a whole. This deterministic stance becomes ever more blatant 8 episodes later with the appearance of Nagisa Kaworu.

Kaworu’s designation is the angel of free will. The irony of this stands in the fact that Kaworu isn’t the only angel who can exhibit free will (with some of the angels before him taking the time to try comprehending people). Kaworu’s status comes from his identity as the last messenger, bringing about freedom for one species (humans/lilin or angels) at the expense of the other. Kaworu knows his reality well and in the end, seeks to better the reality of those around him. Eva doesn’t romanticize the prospect of free will, however, because Kaworu is so aware of his own person and how he can hurt those around him that it greatly bothers him.

The metatext doesn’t just position Shinji as being in the wrong, but also the audience. Remember the point I made before about Shinji being the audience substitute? It’s further hammered home from the series’ tail end and into End of Evangelion.

“That’s just the way things are.” is a common response to things in life we feel resigned on changing, because we don’t know how to change them. This quote is a parallel to Shinji’s “humans aren’t made to float!” in episode 16.

Shinji does know how to change much of his reality, but by doing so he’d be pushed into free will. Free Will is the solution and it means holding yourself accountable rather than believe that it’s everyone else with the problem. With the idea that you can change your reality, it offers you the opportunity to love yourself.

If you love yourself, then it becomes much easier to love others.

Eva’s free will and determinism metatext hammers home the extension of empathy.

Shinji/the viewer’s greatest problem is that because we don’t love ourselves it makes it difficult to extend the love to everyone else. Shinji’s love translates as idealism. Because of his unhealthy idealism, he is hindered from understanding people.

By ascribing your beliefs from determinism to free will, it opens your mind to an entire world of possibilities, but therein lies the terror. It is because of these possibilities that Shinji and by extension, the viewer, likely fears free will. Shinji finds ways make himself validated, but with free will, the argument could be made that it doesn’t matter. There’s the anxiety-crippling likelihood that none of it actually matters, because your existence doesn’t matter. If we’re going on this bent, acts of making an adequate impression on others are acts of personal denial. In the end, these are what they are, possibilities.

The greatest terror of it all is that we don’t know.

User power-chords makes an excellent point about the inherent darkness of an internal locus of control.

User power-chords posits the idea of existential absurdity for Shinji not as a certainty but a possibility. There’s always a likelihood that our desires to comprehend the world around us, to find ultimate understanding are in vain.

Cheesy as it sounds, people fear ambiguity because we seek a satisfying end. We don’t just seek answers. We want outside closure and inner peace, but we won’t always get it. It’s why we rationalize relationships that end on bad notes. Sometimes you worry about your falling-outs...and it hurts. You never got the answers your wanted so this pain carries, for months, sometimes even for years. Dwelling on the issue serves no purpose other than to keep that hurt with you. The best thing to do sometimes is to find your own closure, your own meaning.

No, Evangelion isn’t actually pro-nihilism, but it presents us with that likelihood. That’s what makes this aspect of the narrative so terrifying: The consideration that we find meaning in the meaningless.

XV. The True Nature of Sync Rates

The nature of injuries and having them in adds onto the innate horror --be it war or otherwise-- and themes of the Evangelion. The severity of the injury is based on how high the pilot’s sync ratio is. An average rate while sustaining damage will bring hurt to the actual pilot in the respective spot. Some examples:

Sachiel makes multiple headblows to Unit-01 and Shinji in episode 2, causing head trauma.

Ramiel’s, (5th angel), particle beam attack in episode 6, an attack so severe that Shinji needed medical care.

Unit-00 and Rei being infected by a Bardiel hijacked Unit-03 in episode 18. Toji’s condition in episode 18 stands as a large example of the innately disturbing nature of sustained injuries.

Toji’s condition becomes all the more nauseating when you see Evangelion parts and blood flow through Tokyo-3.

Toji could feel every last second of strangulation, body blow, and feel the unspeakable pain of his arm being severed.  Let that sink in.

Asuka receives the worst of these considering the nature of her sync rate being high. The higher the rate the more kept the damage is. The circumstances behind Asuka getting the worst of it goes back to the AT-Field. Asuka understood the meaning of the AT-Field, that the more you open yourself up to others, the more hurt you become. The realization dawns on Asuka as her mother from within the Evangelion shields her from the onslaught of JSSDF troops.

It’s then that Asuka finally comprehends what the Absolute Terror Field is. Despite her emotional needs being neglected, realizing she’s set up to fail, and going comatose she still goes on.

Asuka, despite everything, takes a chance and opens her heart knowing the double-edged nature of the AT Field. What happens next?

Asuka took a chance.

She opened her heart...

...and she got hurt all because she opened herself.

XVI. Unit 01+MPE Gorging Sequences

The brutality of both Unit-01 and the Mass Production Evas holds three layers: of visual horror, implied horror, and thematic horror. Unit-01, after taking Zeruel’s s2 engine into herself, proceeds to then brutalize the 14th angel by way of still gorging on it. The feeding was entirely recreational considering Evangelions don’t subsist on food to function. This was more about the sheer act of brutality for brutality’ sake.

The Mass Production Evas also fall under this category, the way in which they deal with Asuka after incapacitating her with a replicated Lance of Longinus is also sadistic and gratuitous. They also proceed to gorge on Asuka, her fate made worse through the simple fact that her sync rate is heightened.

The MPEs don’t even swiftly finish her off.  She is in a state of tremendous and unimaginable pain. They fly above her slowly, circling above her mangled Eva.

They are almost mocking her as she can do nothing, save for writhe. Asuka’s seething, repeated “I’ll kill you...I’ll kill you….” is then silenced by the MPEs spearing her down.

The brutality doesn’t end there, as we see much darker implications of the damage sustained toward the end of the first half of End of Evangelion.

Shinji bears witness to the implications after seeing the decimated remains of Unit-02 being carried off by some of the Mass Production Units. The sickening reality of it all dawns on him and he is once more exposed to the woes of war and the nightmarish aspect tied of the Evangelions.

XVII. Ancient Ruins of Arqa

We’re ending the pre-abyssal end of the iceberg with Evangelion’s original proposal.

Eva’s proposal, a far cry to the show today, had a more sci-fi angle to it. Psychological concepts weren’t exactly pitched nor was it self-aware. The angels weren’t even referred to as the angels, but as the Apostolos. Instead of the 18 we were presented with in the original show and the movies, there were 28 Apostolos.

The Apostolos designs stand as testament to how far of a departure the proposal was to the final cut. They look far more menacing than the more amorphous, much softer defined, beady-eyed angels we’re used to. To top it all off, the Apostolos were the de facto villains of Evangelion’s prototype pitch. The Apostolos in the Proposal, toward the end, proceed their onslaught as a group rather than the series’ one by one. Toward the series’ end, the 12 strongest Apostolos begin their assault on North America, annihilating the continent in its entirety.

Only 12 of the creatures laid waste to a singular continent.

Episode 24: "Now, the Promised Time"

Rei breaks down. Her secrets are revealed. At last awakened, the twelve strongest Apostolos descend from the Moon. Both Eva Unit-06 and the American continent vanish completely. Humans acknowledge their helplessness in the face of the Apostolos' crushing power. The promised time, when people will return to nothing, approaches. A human drama in the depths of despair.

Episode 25: "Arqa, the Promised Land"

The laboratory holds the ancient ruins of Arqa, which have become key. In order to stop the twelve Apostolos, the United Nations' head members annul the Human Instrumentality Project and resolve to destroy the Apostolos. Shinji's father objects. Shinji and the others stay at the laboratory for Rei. A drama of people conflicting over incongruous objectives.

https://wiki.evageeks.org/Resources:Neon_Genesis_Evangelion_Proposal_(Translation)

The aforesaid creatures were so powerful in the original pitch that Human Instrumentality and the ancient ruins of Arqa would be the way of stopping the onslaught.

Tier 5: The Abyss

XVIII. Split Second Misato Death

XIX. Humans Are The Villains in Eva

XX. The Ultimate Paradox

XVIII. Split Second Misato Death

As the last and most explicit aspect of original Evangelion, it would only make sense that EoE specific content would take its place in Tier 5. End of Evangelion is a 90 + minute tour de force with disturbing imagery back-to-back. Split Second Misato Death refers to one of the most unsettling images sprinkled all throughout the movie. Here are a few of the many examples of EoE’s building up on Evangelion’s ugliest parts.

Everyone cites the infamous hospital scene not even 5 minutes into the film as the first proof, but user power-chords has pointed out, Shinji has actually attempted suicide (refer to the ‘Free Will v. Determinism’ part of the iceberg.)

After Misato is mortally wounded and sends Shinji off in an elevator not long after, the JSSDF blow up that part of NERV. A few people have pointed out the most disturbing facet of this scene: through freeze-framing that you can actually see Misato’s body during.

The JSSDF scene partway through End of Evangelion in which NERV personnel are summarily annihilated.

For those missing the small detail of Shinji’s attempted suicide ,Shinji’s depressed state is made more clear when the JSSDF locate him. When they do they attempt to kill him execution style. Shinji doesn’t move.

“I don’t want to die…!” during the JSSDF’s assault, Asuka is awoken from comatose state. She is protected by her mother via an AT-Field by Unit-02. She gains back her self-preservation after this realization, and multitude of images play. One of them is an extremely gruesome close-up of Asuka’s face. (extreme body horror warning, proceed with caution)

The Komm Susser Tod scene beginning with Shinji strangling Asuka in harsh coloring, Naoko’s same action toward Rei plays right after. A few disturbing child drawings follow after, predominantly featuring death. (seizure warning, body horror warning)

End of Evangelion’s flooring nature comes from the fact that it builds up on the subtly horrific and makes these terrors explicit. Whatever existed beyond closed doors becomes now available for us to see,

XVIII. Humans Are The Villains in Eva

At the penultimate point of the abyss lies a horror as old as much of time. Of the humane being more disgusting than the monsters.

That we can be monstrous.

This fact becomes known with the appearance of the JSSDF as dispatched by SEELE, methodically mowing down NERV personnel with little to no weaponry of their own. We’re treated to NERV’s personnel in their hallways, some forced with the moral dilemma of leaving their own to die while surviving or helping their own while both end up being gunned down. 

It becomes apparent that SEELE has been gradually, intentionally chipping away at NERV’s Defense Budget, getting rid of the (little) competition they have after the defeat of the Last Messenger.

There’s a degree of contempt and casual sadism that comes with how they kill the personnel. In one instance, a NERV worker surrenders to the JSSDF, before being killed off in execution style in the distance (one headshot plus two extra shots for good measure).

When you look back at it, this sort of sheer, unabashed brutality wasn’t felt about the angels. Human attitude about the angels is largely fearing, anxious. This attitude accentuated itself through a sometimes nervous soundscape. Of observing these weird, ghastly creatures as they creep and swim. And the feeling’s mutual. The problem is that we don’t know.

But here? We do know.

When the JSSDF move in, the anxiety of angels graduates to the full-force dread of creatures that have killed before. The greatest enemy to humanity has always been with them all along, forcing them to a catch-22. The dread falls on Maya because she understands this perfectly. NERV has only ever shot at targets rather than living flesh…

...and SEELE knows this.

SEELE’s slow, but sure suppression of NERV’s budget is kicking a man while he’s down, but the man in question is a child instead. The JSSDF have more than enough firepower, calling it overkill goes beyond an understatement.

The JSSDF demonstrate the lack of remorse further with the discovery of Third Child, Shinji Ikari. One of the members presses the barrel to Shinji’s head before Misato steps in and kills the members.

The JSSDF isn’t the only damning evidence of how ugly members of humanity can be, however.

Humanity’s on-occasion grossness shows itself in small ways throughout the series, in dislike and conscious emotional distance for individuals, or beliefs of the angels being unintelligent and/or savage. Other times it manifests fiscally, in orchestrating more ethical approaches to stopping certain destruction to go seemingly haywire in order for NERV to receive more funding. This all due to a rival company of NERV challenging the very idea for its usage of child soldiers.

The worst of this damning fact is that many of the morally repugnant members exist on a higher echelon of society. There are Gendos running around, doing as they so please and they’re the tip of their echelon iceberg.

XIX. The Ultimate Paradox of Evangelion

“Anywhere can be paradise as long as you have the will to live.”

We’re treated to these words as Shinji finds himself on shores surrounded by an isolate hellscape, with Asuka next to him. The strange and altogether horrific nature of End of Evangelion has gotten fans  believing on End of Evangelion’s endgame was in certain, nihilistic. But Eva dipping its hand in the likelihood of meaning in the existentially meaningless isn’t even the ultimate terror of Eva’s self-aware universe, nor is it the tendency for man to become contemptible towards itself.

Evangelion greatest terror is the paradoxical nature of free will.

Yui’s words to her son as she drifts off into the ever-expanding cosmos, her status as a deity realized, is that paradise is universal. EoE assumes this unconventionally positive approach to a whole series worth of characters’ woes. The issue is: finding paradise is ultimately conditional.

Free Will’s paradoxical nature is what gives credence to the ongoing Free Will vs. Determinism dilemma. People can use their free will to take away yours entirely and this is most evident with Rei. Her existence is the result of a man’s unhealthy attachment to his wife, her lack of self-preservation the result of being conditioned as a multi-purpose vessel; her desire to merge with Lilith to become an omnipresent mother-figure was not hers. The nature of disallowing free will exists on a spectrum, as people can use their free will not to take away the whole of others’ freedoms, but to disallow them proper emotional growth. The adults around Asuka weren’t around for her during the series, leading to her eventual downfall.

Unit-01, throughout much of the second part of EoE holds the power to give or deny people’s physicality due to her status of having both Fruits of Life (the s2 engine held by angels) and Wisdom (from the Lance of Longinus merged with the Eva earlier on). This gives Unit-01 her deity status and while within Lilith-Rei, Shinji realizes that not everyone would be there in his life, that he can’t be in the center of others’ lives. It’s for that reason why he denies people’s physicality (“They can all just die.”), which turns people into LCL.

Shinji gives allows people the ability to come back from Instrumentality after realization arises that without other people, there’s no way to tell if Shinji, himself exists or not. Kaworu and Rei also give him the reality that with people back, pain will become an inevitability once more. With all the souls gathered by Lilith-Rei, they are released after her death.

With the souls of those cast into Instrumentality dispersed, those turned into LCL now hold the ability to come back from Instrumentality if they so choose.

While the idea of anywhere being paradise rings true, it’s not entirely satisfying to say that EoE is unconventional in its uplifting message to the viewer. Evangelion is at its core a cautionary tale. It warns the viewer into extensions of empathy and openness that others would properly live. This goes double for those with power. Without that compassion, we’ll have Asukas, Misatos, Ristukos, as well as Reis, those in the world whose downfalls come from emotional absences, neglect, objectification, and forced baggage. We would have Shinjis, those wanting to be at the nexus of others’ importance because they were deprived while young.

Kindness is a powerful thing and the lack of compassion present in all of Eva implicates most everyone. It leads to yet more abusive cycles, with the only thing breaking that cycle being a hand for those in need.

XX. Conclusion

What more can be said over this juggernaut which is a host to a bevvy of darkness? Evangelion is testament that anxieties and horror don’t need to start out as blatantly shocking or visceral to make an impact years down the line. They also don’t need to be out in the open to initially hook you either. You pick up on a few anxieties as well as horrors and you realize deep down, there must be more, which drives many of us to engage in this often times unabashedly dark source material.

Some of us are doing it later in the throes of adolescences, others are doing so well into their 20s, possibly dipping into their 30s. Point is, it draws in a lot of us and for a lot of us, it doesn’t ever let go.

Some of its charm could be chalked to the visceral ways in which characters interact. Even after years of re-watches, I’m still learning new things about the child soldiers, and I’m quite sure there’s others finding small details. There’s also the possibility of Eva’s approach to terror. I think Evangelion “humanized” its horror. It didn’t make horror a universally human feeling, but made it so that the true big bads looking to cause apocalypse weren’t actually the eldritch. Many of the angels are more or less lost kids looking for their mother (I still think Ramiel’s “singing” in episode 5 was it calling for its mother!).

With those newer details after 20+ years, there will be more added to the iceberg. Hell, there should be more added to the iceberg. This iceberg is the tip of an even greater iceberg. I’m still learning about their adults and their desires as well, how cyclical their actions are. For others, the draw-in factor lies in its low budget. Personally, it’s all of these for me: the low budget helped cement these darker aspects of the series due to horror and the genre’s overall relationship with limitation. It works best on limitation and had Eva worked with a much higher budget, I don’t think the content would be as effective, or perhaps it’d be much more difficult to make it so.

Evangelion is such a well-done, deceptively compact series that each lens a fan assumes has its own interesting rabbit hole. Your circumstance shapes the experience, and this too involves how you navigate the series’ menagerie of terrors.

I’d also like to thank the reader for getting through the largest rabbit hole in Evangelion. I’d also like to thank you for getting through the whole of this meta from a fan who slowly began to resonate with the characters as the years went on!

#neon genesis evangelion #shinji #kaworu #asuka #rei #seizure warning #body horror warning #suicide mention #correct me if im wrong #credit goes to twitter user decoratedboar for the iceberg picture help #and fixes

[highsviolets]

waterfall inquiry: javier peña x reader

pairing: javier peña x young analyst!reader

summary: words should not make you feel so much.

warnings: age gap. kissing. and - the worst of all - f e e l i n g s. (soft ones)

a/n: [edited 10 June ‘21] this was supposed to be three parts...and now there’s more. I regret nothing :) 

[next] [series masterlist] [main masterlist] * gif: @anakin-skywalker​

“Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name”

 “as kingfishers catch fire” | gerard manley hopkins

Neither of you should be here. Strictly speaking, at least.

The Embassy maintains regulations about these sorts of things, you’ve heard in jagged claims that coat the walls in a sickly iridescent sheen. Not the pretty kind that makes glitter sparkle. No, it’s the perverse shine — pyrite and oil spills on tepid water and those cheap kaleidoscopes they sell at county fairs.

Everything, it seems, is whispered here. Here at the Embassy, anyway; Colombia itself is a messy, irreverent place. A dreamlike people, an altered state where God acts as the intermediary between man and demons, not angels.

Perhaps that is why the Embassy is always quiet. The shrill clang of a phone ringing makes everyone start, fearful of keeping demons at bay. Even the PR reps speak in hushed tones, the words soft and soothing like cotton balls dipped in baby oil gliding across skin — crafting press releases each word slotted for a specific purpose, hand-picked with evolutionary precision.

It harasses you, stinging pricks drawing blood from beneath the surface of your bronze skin. Words should move freely, you believe. Like the way the Mississippi runs in during the spring melt: coarse, unimpeded, roiling in caught light, caressing the riverbanks as it soaks up all the world gives it — thrusting forward after a winter fraught in immobility, reveling in flinty purpose.

There’s a difference between words of fabrication and phrases of culled authenticity — the ones that stream from bleeding hearts, bound tightly by shoves and glares and hands that can’t keep still. Hands that grasp for something tangible. Anfractuous reminders of why they must be so careful, why they must keep the truth of themselves limited to brief instances of throwing back light or heat.

There is one man, you know, who thinks like you do — and he laughs at the fact that your jobs depend upon other people being careless with their words. Bandying about locations, codenames, numerals, what to buy at the grocery store. You can almost hear him, that marmalade voice spreading over you, eyes gleaming in smoke and fervor: yeah, carelessness gives us both a job. But it hurts, too.

Tonight, though. When you both are here when you really shouldn’t, you really fucking shouldn’t, not when you’ve been dreaming about him for…for how long? How long have you been in this country that makes a mockery of verisimilitude? Long enough, apparently, for everything else to blur when you look at him, for you to have memorized the way his shirts pull tight over his back when he’s leaned over his desk.

Eyes climb up the length of his torso, the slope of it heightened by the way he’s bracing his weight on his hands. His palms are spread wide and god as much as you think you want to stop the way your mouth runs dry at the sight his large palm, you can’t.

A sigh leaks out. The man in question spares a glance your way, matching the twist of his neck to the cigarette he brings to his lips. “You alright?” he mumbles around the thing, and you grip the desk’s edge a little harder at the sound, at the sight, of him in his element. His exhale — a finely tuned purse of the lips, discreetly directed away from your work — should feel the same as your sigh, but it doesn’t. It washes over you instead, and you rock in the way his existence ebbs and flows in and out of your person. Easy. Like breathing. Like all you have to do is breathe, and he’ll be there.

There are stories about him. When you had been sent down to Columbia as a junior analyst after the death of Escobar, you had quickly dived into the mythos the man. How could you not, when he was everywhere, the scent and swagger of him drawing eyes from every corner of the barricaded building?

The others — the replacements, someone had once termed the batch of new personnel flooding the country to fight Cali — had told you the stories; where they had heard them, you weren’t sure. Huddled over tepid drinks in the bar after work, blazers shrugged off and shirtsleeves rolled up, you had let them regale you of how he fought for years to bring down Escobar, only to be in Miami when his partner did the deed. How he fucks his informants; although, one of them admitted with a sigh, he hadn’t been known to do that in a while. How he was ruthless in the pursuit of justice. A fucking legend, man, someone had crowed about the older man, tongue loose with overpriced alcohol.

And through it all, there was you, eyeing the man himself across the bar. The embrace of his hands against the whiskey glass, the way he barely shuddered at the consuming burn of the stuff when he tossed it back in a behavioral gesture. He seems sad, is what you had thought. Whatever opposite of sad existed in this opulent measure of time by which you both abided — that’s what you wanted to do for him. To make him not-sad. He is aged, perhaps, but not old, rather like someone who could be young if they could shed the pallid skin of responsibility.

But you can’t play God in this country of fallen beings. Being consumes you instead, devolving into an obsession, hanging onto the ledge of yourself — gripping humanity and slicing rocks and graphite that stains your skin even as it slides away, too smooth to be held in hands that ache, swollen, from typing up reports detailing the tumbled-gravel sins of humanity.

He likes you. You think he might, anyway. He consults you before any of the others, and once or twice he’s dragged some Columbian officer into your tiny workspace, asking you to confirm the intelligence on whatever operation he’s desperate to get approved so he can do something. He asks with words that curl up and over themselves like whitecaps, one hand resting on his hip as he nods along to your recitation.

But it’s really his eyes you watch in these moments, aching in fluttering hope whenever they rest on yours. Javier Peña’s eyes when he visits you in your workspace are pleading thermoses of life under sterile fluorescent lights. He likes to send you a half-smile and a nod when you’re finished, tossing them over his shoulder as he escorts the man back to the Ambassador’s office. You are both too good at your job not to love it in some sick & twisted way, and he knows.

Other times he simply drops by. Leaning against your cubicle, he fiddles with a cigarette and chats with you as you work, asking questions that he knows he’s the only one examining.

Talk to me about the families of la cartel de Cali, he mutters, the hoarse sound deep and aching in your gut. About their mothers, daughters, sons, cousins, in-laws. Is anyone sick? Do they want to go on vacation? What’s the drama of the week, no, don’t laugh, — he smiles, here, barely, the delicate minutiae of the expression an external revelation of his magnetism — there always is in families. They’re human just like us. And that’s when he sighs, and looks across the hall, where in his office there’s a diagram of the Cali bosses splayed over the wall. Yeah...they’re like us.

Javier makes a slowly forms a habit of it, of stopping by your cubical and wrapping you in currents of charisma and truth. He does you a solid, too, bringing you to the attention of your superiors when he mentions your diligence. And you repay him in kind, taking care to slip into his office with new intelligence before the brass gets word. You tell yourself it’s simple mentorship. Mere patronage. He’s paying it forward, helping the young analyst get ahead in their career. These meetings are nothing to him, and they ought to be equally as empty to yourself. It’s just exchanges of information. Conversation between colleagues.

Of course, that doesn’t explain why you look forward to his fingers touching yours when you lend him a pen, or, when he makes some half-whispered joke in Spanish, it makes you shiver. Or the pride that blossoms in your chest, embracing you all soft and balmy, when he considers your words. He handles them like he does his favorite cigarettes, rolling them between his fingers, palming their weight, letting the texture seep into his skin before he lights them on fire.

You drop your pen a lot; he brings a finger to his mouth in thought. You don’t see the way he smiles when you do that, grinning at the muttered curse and roll of your eyes. And he decides that he likes the way you laugh about it; poking fun at your own mistakes, the skin that matches his own gleaming in the warm sun.

He can never do that. Perhaps he should? But he doesn’t make mistakes like that, toss-away interruptions of intended action. The mistakes he makes get people killed. All the more reason to keep checking with you, he reasons, to double-insure the intelligence. Can’t have another mess. And he likes to hear your laugh. Nothing wrong with that, he says. Nothing wrong with something that makes his heart stir and entices the eyes hidden behind yellow aviators to trace the length of your neck a little longer than strictly necessary when you throw your head back in unmarked joy.

And tonight, in his office? Tonight he seems melancholic again, like the first time you saw him across the bar. He keeps shifting his weight, one hand on his hip, and then on the table, and then shrugging off both his jacket and his tie and tossing them unceremoniously onto the couch, limbs extending listlessly. It’s as close to careless as he gets.

Or maybe it’s just the exhaustion fusing into you both. You feel slow and hazy, torn between staring at him and bleary eyes glaring at the map beneath his fingers. if you just look at it longer, you think, you can will it all to fall into place. and maybe if you did he would kiss you, and maybe he would kiss you the way he has always wanted to live.

Maybe if you traced your tongue along his exposed collarbone, penning of licks of hope in the space where his words seem to get caught, where his perpetually open collar leaves him defenseless to an onslaught of physical impressions…maybe then, he’d exhale in blessed adoration, taken outside of himself for just one moment.

He’s asking you a question. You alright? He does that a lot, you realize. Checks in with you. When you answer, he laughs — those delightful eyes seeping warmth into your weary bones as they crinkle in a smile — and he reminds you to call him Javier. He — Javier — has rebuked you at least three times tonight alone, but you’ve yet to oblige his request. If you do, if you let your tongue caress his sacred name and rest in its life-sodden weight, you fear…

you do not know what you fear. you do not know how saying his name will shift the tides in your life. but you know that you will remain forever anchored to him, tethered to his lunar opacity.

“What’s this?” you ask instead, shifting to rest against the desk. You’re beside him now, hip adjacent to his as you look up at him. Latent smoke hovers overhead, and locks of his hair have come undone after the long hours of work and now rest over his forehead small waves. It looks like it aches, being so out of place, and yet so distinctly him. Caught. Destined to arch over his tanned skin, all the while lingering in a place where it should not. Not here, anyway. Not tonight, in his office, far after everyone else has gone home.

“What’s what?” Javier rejoins, distracted, still bent over the desk, still bracing his weight on those fingers.

Rustling papers catch his attention, and he twists to meet your gaze. “This.” You point to the unfamiliar word, stamped out in standard font. “My Spanish is decent, but I’ve never seen this word before.”

The wrinkles behind the shield of his fallen hair press together as he cranes his neck, adjusting his stance to read the word on the paper you thrust in his direction. It clears rapidly though — the visage sailing and unfurling itself when he absorbs the story hidden in-between letters on a page.

He repeats the word back to you, leaning into the sound the way he leans into you, inching closer in his explanation. You stare at his lips, completely captivated — his tongue catching between his teeth — the purse of his lips — the rearrangement of his jaw as it conforms to the aerodynamics of structured syllables.

“Strictly speaking,” he says, eyes roving your face, deep and dark, “it means elf, or spirit. Something ethereal. It’s used in stories a lot.” The words are smooth, smokey, whiskey-like as you let them drip down your skin, the insides of your thighs. “Entiendes?”

Your body temperature rises. You can feel it — the way your mouth’s run dry and the paper’s slippery in your grip. Did his voice drop lower when he used the familiar form of the verb, not the formal? You think it did. Oh god, he’s so close, he could just extend a hand across your body and it could rest on your hip. You had never really noticed his height either, always in heels. Tonight, though, the heels are in the corner with his jacket and tie and you realize that he’s inches above you, yet somehow still within reach.

“What’s” — you swallow thickly, desperate to remain professional despite your wide eyes, the tongue tracing your lower lip — “what’s the non-strict definition of the word?”

He gives you one of his trademark smirks. “It can also mean,” he says, “enchanting. Charming. For someone or something to be magical.”

Nodding slowly, you drop your eyes down to the paper again, desperate to avoid his gaze. It follows you, watching your eyes hide even as you adjust to be ever-closer, a bare foot extending outward and brushing against the fabric of his dress pants. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Say it,” you hear him urge, your head bolting up, incredulous. And you try, you really do, but it’s so new and unfamiliar and you’re so goddamn nervous with him looking at you, that you fuck it up. Words are but the vessels by which emotions themselves are expressed, so maybe the act of speaking should not make you feel all by itself. But it does — oh, god, it does, and you feel like you’ve shrunk in the process, dwarfed by this man with rolled up shirt sleeves wrapped around muscular forearms, who grins impishly around his cigarette.

“Not quite.” He stubs out the thing, and to your surprise, brings hand to your jaw, cupping your chin in-between his thumb and forefinger. “Say it again.”

“No, I can’t; I..“ you protest, and for what? because you don’t want him near you? no, that’s not it, but you’re being branded by his touch all the same.

“Say it again,” he commands again, more gently this time, his words accompanied by an encouraging nod.

You comply readily, sounding out the syllables. His strong fingers manipulate your movements, guiding you in pronouncing the difficult phrase. It’s forceful and noble, a tender yet compelling influence that teaches you how to wrap yourself in the meaning of the word as much the word itself. You’re tingling; is it from the thrill of achieving or from his sturdy hand against your bare skin?

He doesn’t back away when you’re finished speaking, but holds your stare. Dimly, you register the steady crescendo in your breathing. He’s not immune to your proximity either: his Adam’s apple bobs as he pushes down the deficit of hope flooding oppressive maxim of his presence. Times stretches as you remain caught in his hold, coursing through you, carrying you downstream in brash, coarse recklessness. Are the emotions you swim in those eyes yours, or his, or some measure of both?

The pads of his fingers migrate, drifting to rest along your cheek and tumble into his touch like a moth to flame, or fish to water, or whatever trite phrase people use to make sense of such profound belonging.

Javier is mesmerized with the way his fingertips trace your cheekbones, the shell of your ear, along your jaw, returning to outline your lips.

“Tell me to stop.” His voice scrapes along your bliss, and you force your eyes open to see that he’s moved even closer, closer-than-close, so tight against you that you’re nearly leaning back over the desk.

“Do you want me to?” His eyes are dark and still now, but for the way they’re trained on yours as you whisper fate into existence.

“No — fuck — I shouldn’t, I —“ his jaw shifts again, this time in agitation, but it is you who does the deed, cutting him off, reaching out to tug on his collar. The action pulls him forward, pressing himself against you, caging you between the desk and the broadness of his firm chest.  And you do know it’s firm now, at last slipping your hands underneath that truant fabric and gliding along his smooth skin. His hands find your waist, gripping your hips as he meets your lips in an open-mouthed kiss.

He — Javier, now — kisses you a single-minded intent, letting his lips slide over yours lazily, over and over, memorizing the imprint of you against his mouth. One hand drifts upward again, cupping your cheek as he tilts your head slightly, letting his tongue delve into your mouth and trace your teeth. It makes you gasp, and you retaliate with a gentle nip to his lower lip, silently begging for more. Javier moans into your mouth, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure through his body.

Tightening his grip on your waist, Javier lifts you, placing you firmly on the desk, feet dangling a few inches from the floor. You know what he wants before he even has to ask and you give it him readily, wrapping your legs around his waist. Javier’s weight conforms to your own, molding against your body as you press into him, back arching in your submersion to his touch.

He is so eager; his kisses drench you in a deluge of incubated affection interspersed with need. Grasping at his shoulder, you pull him even closer, your other hand anxiously fiddling with his buttons as you sigh, reveling in the storm of his attention. Slowly, painstakingly, driven by a clamoring need for oxygen, he drags himself away from you, parting slowly, ever-loth to break the kiss.

You can’t help the shy smile that dances around your lips when you look up at him, standing above you. His chest is heaving, out of breath, hair somehow even more mussed than it was before. You suppose you can touch it now, so you do, two fingers brushing aside the fringe on his forehead.

Time, and space, and whatever else this stuff is made of have prevented from this alternate reality. until now. it has broken through the dam and caught you up in its awakening, broad and unrepentant.

Javier captures your hand as it lowers, pressing a kiss to the side of your palm. He’s so tender it makes you ache, and you wonder if this is why he stopped fucking his CIs. He requires something more intangible than what they could give him. “Javier,” you whisper.

He hums a question, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles as he watches you consider him, emotion lapping at the shores of unkempt eyes.

“You asked me to use your name. Earlier, I mean.” Should you feel embarrassed? Kissing a man several years your senior? Maybe you should. But you don’t. There’s a cordial warmth spreading through you, bolstered by his gentle touch, the outward connection of him and you that’s been built through months of inanimate remembrances.

“I know.” Javier nods and leans in again, his breath rippling across your skin. “Can you say it one more time, princesa? They say you need to do something three times” — a kiss to your cheek — “to make sure you really —“ a kiss to your forehead — “understand” — a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

The words fall out of your mouth, splashes of unrestrained affection dappling each letter. “Duende, Javier,” you murmur against his lips. “Duende.”

javi tags: @frannyzooey @yespolkadotkitty @rentskenobi @goldenkenobi ​ @goldafterglow @teaofpeach ​ @justrunamok ​ @huliabitch @cri-me-a-river @littlevodika @catsnkooks @themarvelousbear @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @ladytrashbird @princessxkenobi @roxypeanut @dracos-jedi-marvel @a-seeker-of-imagination​ // taglist link in bio!

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x reader insert #agent peña x reader #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #YES I NOW HAVE THREE JAVI SERIES #DON'T @ ME #I HATE IT TOO OKAY #i simply have no self control when it comes to him #it's f i n e #this was supposed to be!! 800 words!! #and now it's over 3k!! #what the fuck!! #cris write something without meta challenge #i listened to glamour child on repeat writing this #and it definitely shows #whoops #fic: waterfall #cw age gap #alkskd is this fic even coherent tho #bc idk #?!!? #usernobie #cris writes #highsviolets #filthybookworm

[sugar-petals]

boyfriend bot (m)

↳ Not made of flesh nor blood. But made to treat you right. 

↳ PAIRING ⇁ baekyhun x reader

↳ STATS ⇁ one shot | sci-fi + domestic au

↳ WORDS ⇁ 29k

↳ WARNINGS ⇁ slow burn, the yearning™, eventual smut, light angst, making out, fingering, blowjobs, vaginal penetration, baekhyun can expand his dick what about it, cock warming, messy sex, artificial semen, giving orders + name-calling (bbh receiving), cum play, throatpies, wet panties all the way, masturbation, switching & dom!reader undertones but more vanilla > kink, french kissing, baek is a gentleman, cuddles

↳ ♡ Caro’s Note ✏︎ mmh i love seeing reader get her life turned upside down. features ten chapters. please indulge. ✍️

Chapter 1: The Capsule

God, the sting is back. Your left foot starts hurting like absolute hell. Out of all possible moments and places.

The vaguely polite smile on your face drops to a stifled expression, but Mr. Kim — on top of being just as oblivious as you expected a man of his job to be — is too preoccupied to notice.

„Our faculty is quite large,“ he says, gazing over the diagrams on his tablet pc. „We require a lot of spare room to test the robots.“

You exhale. Trying to focus on the diagrams, whatever they might mean. It’s mostly obscure, floating animations in green and yellow. Actually — very much unlike the faculty itself which is white, stark, and sterile. And yes. Too large for its own fucking good.

Just keep on walking, you tell yourself, you’ll be there soon. You’ll see Baekhyun in just a minute, okay.

Besides Mr. Kim, whoever works here has got to be a raging part-time athlete. Crossing all the plain white corridors feels like jogging right through a football field.

If you walk down any more of those, you’ll actually be out of breath. On top of limping like a stork in a puddle of half-dry mud. All accompanied by the squeaking of Mr. Kim’s obnoxious white crocs that seem to mock you with every step.

You spend too much time inside.

But who these days trains for a marathon like this.

Another deep exhale. Focus, focus, focus. You try to keep the conversation smooth.

„That’s reasonable. How long does it take to run such a test?“

„Really depends on the model,“ Mr. Kim hums, now diverting his eyes from his device to meet yours. „Prototypes take three, even four years to manufacture, trial, and refine. It is rocket science.“

Your foot is kind enough not to send another spike of pain through your legs so your face looks neutral at best.

„Four years. Quite a long time.“

Around just as long as you’ve been the single pringle of the neighborhood if you count up the months. Now that’s funny. You still feel pathetic showing up here, either way.

But since you already paid and walked what feels like three miles, there’s no going back.

Mr. Kim stuffs the tablet into his pocket now, then interlaces his fingers, making him reminiscent of some kind of ancient Roman oratory figure with his long white lab coat on.

„It is. The models that you can customize do several test runs over the course of two weeks, on the other hand.“

„Wow, that’s actually pretty fast, then.“

You’re genuinely surprised. That the faculty is professional to a fault, however, isn’t shocking. The reviews of their products are nothing but positive. Five stars are plastered all over the edgy customer feedback section on the company website. Accordingly, your purchase is worth more than five saved monthly salaries which torments you more than your damn foot.

Mr. Kim cocks his head a little.

„Technically, yes,“ he says. „However, every custom bot has once been a prototype. All the important safety tests have been conducted.“

You raise your brows. If you did the math correctly, it’s 3 to 4 years development stage plus two weeks of customizing and tests. That makes sense.

You’re surprised your brain can register as much. Now that it’s been ten minutes of walking or even a bit longer, who knows the time works differently in this bitch of a building, the corridor is giving your Achilles’ heel a hard time again with another endlessly long passage.

Doors upon doors, one more mysteriously labeled than the other, pop up right and left. ‚CASTS AND SCULPTURE‘ says one entrance. ‚LINGUISTIC DEVELOPMENT‘ another. From another corner, a whirring noise keeps on disrupting the silence of the hallway.  

What else can you do but try to slow down the pace without it being too discernable. It’ll pass in no time, you tell yourself, don’t be a bother. You won’t have some breakdown in here and ask for a glass of water or whatever. It’s already embarrassing enough to do all of this.

If you act up, they might consider you unsuitable to take the bot home. There are no opportunities to sit down anyway. Mr. Kim is far too awkward to talk about anything else but technical details. They probably don’t even have cardboard cups and mineral water in here, at least not in the radius of the sensitive equipments.

It really is a rocket science place.

Figures, this is a place for robots, not humans. The receptionist of the faculty himself had been a bot already. Sleek, poised, and polite. Interestingly, with a slight resemblance to Mr. Kim.

You chew on your bottom lip to distract yourself, walk on. Trying to come up with questions seems to be the best way to distract yourself at this point.

„Do… you also quiz the robots for conversation like that?“

It sounds like an outlandish thing to say to such a high-ranking scientist, but with the pain in your leg, it’s all too easy to forget about tone. The corridor becomes longer with every step and the neon lights above don’t help. Maybe you only hallucinate all of this. Mr. Kim sounds as factual and courteous as ever.

„Of course. We simulate every possible life situation you can think of. He can play sports with you, talk about modern art, cook Spaghetti, iron clothes, send you a text message, point out star constellations.“

„Really?“

Your heart beats even faster than it already does. Not that you’d ever need your robot to do push-ups or teach you cross-training. But Mr. Kim very much sounds like he’s confident the android will keep all its lofty claims. It’s a promise that raises your mood a lot more than you thought. All the details on the website you’ve read about three times already, but hearing them confirmed is still exciting.

„Even if a client customizes a model,“ he pulls out the device from his pocket again, then points to several other red graphs on the tablet. „The base programming allows for a variety of actions already.“

None of the data he shows you instantly rings a bell. It looks far too advanced. But it’s a no-brainer to you, someone like Mr. Kim lives in a bubble of bot speak.

As far as you understand it, what he means is that all robots have long been ‚finished‘. Customizing only adds a few features. A final, very personalized touch.

„Um— And my bot is able to learn, right?“

„That is one of the most important features,“ Mr. Kim fiercely nods his head. So that struck a chord. „Baekhyun is a leisure model, but you’ll notice that he asks a lot of questions.“

„What type of questions?“

„Well… Think of it as if a child with a rational mind gets to know the world. Very rapidly rather than naively. And, he constantly updates what your preferences are.“

„Right.“

The prospect of finally meeting him lets the pain in your leg fade off at least a little.

Baekhyun.

Only eight letters in an online form until this very moment. But soon, someone very real before your eyes. It’s an overwhelming thought, but your impatience is stronger than that. Now you really want to see him.

The corridor, thankfully, ends in a few feet anyways. Your knees are getting wobbly by the minute.

„Is he able to reach conclusions on his own?“ you ask, hands stuffed into the side pockets of your black jeans. Your pulse is still increasing. Mr. Kim’s friendly face becomes even friendlier with the smile that now stretches wide across.

„Conclusions— I would describe him as logical, but with a strong ethical twist. He’s a leisure model, after all.“

That sounds like a fancy way of saying ‚yes‘. Or, in a way, a hook to assure a new client that it was money well spent and not wasted on some hoax.

It’s not like you don’t trust the countless ‚I got a leisure bot and this is how we live’ client videos you saw online.

Even the most amateur vloggers seemed to be wildly in love with their models. Kissing and hugging them all over the place, playing games together and whatnot.

„You know, I had the honor of overseeing his tests last week,“ Mr. Kim continues. „Baekhyun’s sense of wit is so astounding, even our chief robotics officer was surprised. And he works in the department since 1995. That’s almost 40 years of experience here.“

You have to smile to yourself now, too. In the ‚select personality’ section on the customization website, your particular wish was to make Baekhyun sharp. Maybe this could turn out as interesting as you pictured it would be.

„We took a little longer with it. But I believe Baekhyun is among one of the best customizations this month,“ Mr. Kim now stops and draws out a key card. „Especially— in terms of how you helped us design his looks and theme. Most client requests we get want some kind of he-man. They only spend twenty minutes customizing their bot on the website, if not less.“

Mr. Kim pulls a frustrated face recalling that. In the meantime, you try to keep your legs straight as good as possible. It’s probably been a few years since you’ve been legitimately nervous like that and it catches you off guard. This is like a final exam. After a brief attempt to fix your hair, you shove your hands into your pockets a little deeper.

„Hm, I see?“

It must have been getting vastly boring in the lab judging by how he talks himself into a frenzy about the project. Although well, if he wouldn’t, you’d be a little worried. This is the type of job where you have to geek out. Mr. Kim seems to be the right kind of guy in his profession, you can’t deny that.

You take a deep breath now — hoping they didn’t go too far with their experiments once they got the rare opportunity to do so.

Mr. Kim pushes his brunette hair back. You can tell he’s getting a little tense himself. He disables the tablet PC using a sleek button on its side and clamps the device under his left armpit.

„You spent almost four hours selecting all the extended details,“ he says. „That helps us a lot. Baekhyun quickly developed into our favorite project to work on. He’s a very self-aware and attentive android.“

You nod, absent-minded already. What matters is that you finally reached the end of the fucking corridor. And just how high your level of adrenaline has been rising. It feels like a gyro drop at full throttle.

You murmur a small thank you and watch Mr. Kim swipe his card through the chunky white, bleeping doorknob. A green light appears from above the door and it scoots open.

„Over there,“ he brings his left hand forward, ushering you inside.

In the middle of the dome-like room before you is a platform sporting an adjustable mechanical frame. Chrome, light aluminum, something of that kind. A terribly odd construction, but almost mundane for a faculty of this caliber. Everything smells painstakingly sterile.

There are similar set-ups you’ve seen in the hospital you got your appendix removed in last spring. Whether that’s a good sign or not you can’t tell over the buzzing inside of your head. This shit has you way too clamped up in the stomach.

You try to focus on observing as good as you can. Back to the here and now.

The frame holds a shiny grey capsule reminiscent of a cocoon. Mr. Kim steps forth toward the pod and swipes across its surface with a gentle right hand. That triggers a series of mechanisms at the back of the capsule, causing it to gain opacity.

Within seconds, a quirky silhouette with elegant limbs appears inside the cocoon. Your hands tremble even more. This is the moment you downed three large fucking cups of coffee for this morning after two winding hours of sleep.

„There he is,“ Mr. Kim announces, audibly proud.

Once the capsule is fully transparent, it is turned upright by the frame shifting about— and dissolves. The cocoon is gone.

The man that now stands before you slowly comes to life as if waking up from a fifty-year-long slumber.

Chapter 2: Enamel

What you first notice is his hair: Whiter than pearls, almost platinum. It’s long enough so see a slight bend in it. Whether it is actual hair or some kind of artificial fiber seems quite impossible to tell. It’s all matte, gently moving. Underneath its softly parted bangs open—

Baekhyun’s eyes. You can’t help but get tunnel vision and an awkwardly stiff posture. Even if they still look sleepy, there is so much movement in them already. They are perfectly droopy and teddy-like, turning toward you with a shapely, slightly long button nose in between. Either iris is deep and dark to the point of no pupil being immediately recognizable. There is something very intentional in his gaze that makes you hold your breath.

At a second glance, it appears as if a thin layer of beige eyeshadow was smudged right around both lash lines, drawing even more attention to the little gleam in the eyes themselves. All around the lab, the faculty’s scientists have placed huge round neon light spheres as lamps, one emitting a light more uncomfortable than the other. But in Baekhyun’s eyes, they appear like distant planets.

Seconds pass. You stare. Then, a voice light and airy knocks you out of your frozen state.

„I am very glad to be with you now,“ Baekhyun’s lips begin to move. You audibly breathe in even harder.

They are small, rosy, angular at the cupid’s bow— revealing a subtle smile with beaming teeth and red gums above. And even though they are bright, none of his teeth appear remotely the same, even, nor too symmetrical.

Imperfect like nature, they look just like yours or anyone else’s. You wouldn’t have guessed, not in a million years, that they are made of ‚steadfast, durable acrylic‘ as it said on the website. His smile looks— so real.

„Very nice to meet you, Baekhyun,“ is the only thing you manage to blurt out, extending your hand. Your brain is running on emergency autopilot.

In this moment, it feels like you are more robotic than the robot before you.

The gentle squeeze of Baekhyun’s gently forthcoming hand feels warming. Where you expected cold metal, a smooth heat spreads in your palm. Besides a small whirring sound that seems to emanate from his shoulder joints and wrist, the way he shakes your hand is fluid, malleable to how your own arm angles towards him. Almost — intuitive?

„I’m sorry if I smell like oil and metal. That will fade,“ chirps Baekhyun, lighthearted and boyish, letting go of your hand. It took you a solid eight seconds to initiate a withdrawal. The shame of feeling so desperate drives a pulsing heat into your face. Guinness world record for longest human-android handshake here we come.

Mr. Kim can’t help but laugh behind you, then ends up mumbling into his non-existent beard.

„Exceptional… truly exceptional. Our language specialists have outdone themselves. Even the voice modulation.“

Whatever that exactly means, you nod along anyway. And you almost thought Mr. Kim was laughing at you.

You rebuke yourself for getting way too defensive. It’s not that your synapses would bother dealing with complicated information like this right now to begin with.

„His voice is— It’s just how I pictured it. It’s so beautiful.“

It doesn’t sound recorded or like some random car navigation system’s speaker at all. It’s almost as if he was being perfectly synchronized by somebody standing right behind him. Only a minimal distortion at the end of his sentences gives away how his words are being generated, processed, pieced together. Other than that, his light and animated tone sounds authentic to a surprising extreme. For some reason, it’s almost as if he’s singing. He speaks surprisingly fast, too.

„You have to compliment yourself,“ Baekhyun steps forward a little, and the capsule frame behind him removes itself from the room’s center platform with a zooming noise. „My voice is designed after your imagination.“

„That’s, that’s nothing. Mr. Kim did all of the important work,“ you negate, way, way too fast, and you bite your lip for almost interrupting him.

„Baekhyun is correct,“ Mr. Kim retorts, now appearing on your left with a clipboard in his hand. He must have fetched it while you were busy being a marble statue. „He’s proof of what fantasy can achieve.“

He smiles, then begins to tick boxes on the board, using a shiny, bold black pen from his lab coat’s chest pocket. Baekhyun smiles a marvelous smile right along.

He is truly hypnotizing to your eye. The more you can take in his entirety, the more overwhelming it is, and there’s no way you can get enough of it.

His skin in particular catches your attention. It is embued with a light bronze sheen. His neck, his arms, his face: All different ways of sunkissed, but still appearing as a consistent whole.

Upon a closer look, you even see a few moles and the finest hairs— on his underarms, the chin, the linings of the cheeks. The steep jaw, too. You remember a detail on the website saying that he can actually get goosebumps, so going by that the little golden fuzz is able to move.

You’ve never seen skin like that in your whole life, and yet, it feels natural. The evenness is not the same anywhere. In some spots, there are subtle blue streaks and elongated bumps, as if there were veins. His neck and hands sport the most prominent bits. Around his wrist and elbow area, you can clearly see bone structure denting through. It’s like real skin on a skeleton. His collar bones are acutely visible, as are his knuckles and cheekbones.

„Baekhyun’s haptics are perfected to a single pore,“ a scribbling Mr. Kim picks up on your lasting, travelling gaze. „Elastic, but sturdy, and still extremely soft. You can touch him like any other person. The skin mimics the same properties except that it hardly ages. It is also heated to body temperature.“

Now you know where your money went into. And why Baekhyun’s hands felt so astoundingly real. You wonder how it would feel if he would—

„Quite alright,“ you gawk, chasing away a gazillion of incoming thoughts. All while feeling what seems like an entire waterfall of sweat trickle down your lower spine. You grant yourself the annual award for the most inept conversationalist nation-wide. „Does that need any maintenance?“

„Principally… he is a self-maintaining system,“ Mr. Kim finishes up with his paperwork. „Even small damages he can repair without you having to bring him here. He can log into our databank and get updates if necessary, though that rarely occurs with leisure models. All very discreetly, of course. The, well, the only thing Baekhyun needs from you is regular interaction. As I said: Learning is vital to him. Absolutely vital. You can talk to him like with anybody else.“

„That I can uh provide! I mean sure!“

You exhale. Slacken. Try to keep your feet parallel to each other. If interaction is the only thing needed to keep Baekhyun on his toes, your toolbox can gladly stay in the basement. Lord knows you’d be a lackluster bot mechanic. Casts, sculpture, linguistics and whatnot, on top of any screws to tighten.

„It’s a pleasure,“ a very smoldering Baekhyun straightens his body, and along with it his crisp white outfit. Which you… already like a lot.

It’s tailored rather snugly to his slim frame. You believe it’s got to be synthetics he’s wearing, a thick kind of fabric. As if you didn’t sweat already, the top is sleeveless. Even if he appears quite slender, Baekhyun’s upper arms are nevertheless muscular. The way he straightened up only emphasizes how toned he is.

„And I’m sorry I made you nervous,“ Baekhyun continues, softy gazing over your face. „Seeing someone with enamel eyes is not the most common thing.“

Now your posture becomes equally as upright. The marble statue is back.

„Enamel?“

As if you forgot whatever the hell language is. Mr. Kim must think you’re a complete fool. And Baekhyun, anyways. You already realize how well he can read situations. And— well, your very face. It’s been one of your top requirements in the customization form, after all. It comes back to bite you.

„We normally use plain glass. For the ocular apparatus, I mean,“ Mr. Kim puts away his clipboard, seemingly content. „But since Baekhyun’s eyes are so dark, engineer Park suggested a coat of enamel to emphasize shine. It adds to the visual. Otherwise, his eyes would swallow all light if you will.“

That’s why the lamp reflections are the way they are in Baekhyun’s eyes. It really is a kind of shiny effect. Not even Tulo, the new palm-sized puppy of your friend Hwasa, has such a vivid expression.

In a following moment of sobriety, you let Mr. Kim’s words repeat in your head. Ocular apparatus. It feels so weird to talk about Baekhyun’s face this way. But it helps to remind you once again. He is man-made. For you. Convincingly well.

„Do you like it?“ Baekhyun promptly asks. „It is the department’s goal to make them look as real as possible.“

„I… I can’t complain. It’s incredible. Really incredible.“

If not absolutely staggering. Your whole body feels tingly.

Baekhyun shifts close to you by the millimeter the more you gape right at him. In the meantime, Mr. Kim stuffs his pen back into the lab coat with an understanding hum.

You have no idea what Baekhyun will do now.

Chapter 3: He Treats You So Right

„So, you agree to matching up with client 2B6?“ Mr. Kim asks Baekhyun.

„I do, sir,“ comes a faithful answer right away. Baekhyun’s cheeks become fuller in a beaming smile.

„Are you satisfied with the result and would like to take Baekhyun home?“ Mr. Kim now turns to you.

„Y—yes, I… I want to.“

You don’t even dare to blink. It feels like you’ve grown roots to the ground.

Is this a marriage ceremony? Is the kiss next? Are you supposed to strip on the spot to seal the deal?

But Mr. Kim is stoic.

„I see you are ready to go then. Baekhyun can explain most of his features by himself, anyways. Better than me, even.“

In fact, he sounds more hurried and neutral now. There’s work waiting for him, you can tell. And he sure as hell had his fair share of impatient clients.

You clench up hoping that you looking at Baekhyun like that isn’t that kind of—

Neediness?

You wish you could deny it. But you’ve made the purchase, you limped all the way here. It’s already obvious, it has to be. There’s no way they don’t pick up on it. It’s what drives Mr. Kim’s business almost endlessly, anyways. In this very moment, ten, maybe twenty, even thirty other bots are presented to clients in rooms scattered all over the faculty.

You have to pull yourself together. It’s not like you’re the only one. You center back to Mr. Kim.

„He can?“

„Yes. Any autonomous bot should be able to explain themselves, it’s what I believe in.“

Now that sounded like conviction indeed.

But you wonder why Mr. Kim still bothered going on tangents, then. But yet again, whatever was on the clipboard was a test run he had to monitor or something like that.

The way he asked Baekhyun if he wanted to match up with you must have been part of that. Baekhyun had agreed so fast and warmly, in such a genuine way of speaking.

Even now, his eyes look so inviting and full of reassurance. Without a single word.

Maybe he likes you. If he can feel something like that.

Or thinks of you as a… rational option. Why would Mr. Kim ask about ‚allowance‘ — or whatever it was — in such a manner, anyways? Wouldn’t it mean that Baekhyun did have a sense of affection? Trust, even? Maybe it was just a formality. A contract, or you were just reading too much into it. But it already stuck with you.

Mr. Kim monotonously continues. Maybe he notices how preoccupied you are. Or, after all, it’s a sentence he must’ve said a thousand times.

„If any other question arises, you know how to contact us.“

„Okay, great. I, I don’t know how to thank you.“

„Your contentment, that is the biggest reward,“ Baekhyun finally enters the conversation again. With a very, very big smile.

His eyes unequivocally ask for permission to touch you, and you grant it nodding. Whatever he wants to do— if Baekhyun is trusting towards you, now it’s your turn.

Baekhyun softly places his left hand on your upper arm, pointing toward the longer end of the lab room with the other.

„We’ll take the elevator over there. You can relax your foot a little. I hope we haven’t caused an inconvenience to you. We’re taking it slow on our way.“

Mr. Kim looks just as taken aback as you, if not more.

„Her foot?“

Baekhyun gazes back at the two of you as if you just asked him whether water is wet.

„It’s blatantly obvious by the way she stands, Mr. Kim. Recovering strained Achilles heel.“

The air is laden with gasoline, the cement blocks all around sleek and cold. Slowly approaching your silver little car in the cramped underground garage’s second story, Baekhyun first seems to scan the vehicle, then turns his head to you – seamlessly. You already anticipate him commenting on whatever scratch or rusty spot first caught his eye.

But instead, he looks courteous as ever.

„I can act as your chauffeur if you desire. Today’s traffic is very busy. I’m a smooth operator.“

You can’t help but laugh a little and picture Mr. Kim feeding a Sade playlist into Baekhyun’s system. Or who knows, any robot likely has instant access to Youtube with their hypermodern internet minds.

„Sounds convenient.“

You head towards the passenger seat after passing him the keys, with Baekhyun aptly entering the car from the other side. How his knees bend, how he slides right onto the seat. With such an oddly fluid way of doing it. It doesn’t escape your glance how easily he settles down and fastens his belt right away.

The scientists have really tested for everything.

Robots are legally permitted to drive since only five years and few are advanced enough to do so.

His side profile looks smooth from where you sit. The chin pointed and sharp, the nose straight, slightly long, and dainty. Baekhyun grips the steering wheel quite expertly with his left hand. He turns the key with the other.

„Your convenience is the most important to me. And I like driving vehicles,“ the engine starts. „It’s birds of a feather.“

You fasten your own seat belt, but rather as a reflex than by deliberation. You really have to stop yourself from consistently looking at him with what must be the most puzzled you’ve been yet.

„Oh, you mean, you get on well with other machines?“

„Your car has similar gears to mine, I can’t help it. Family.“

The engine revs up a bit, then quickly develops into a sonorous purr. Whenever you drive — your car strangely never sounds like that. On your way to the faculty, the engine rather resembled a gone-wild Spanish bull stomping and grunting around in heat.

Now that you think about it — Baekhyun spent over three years in the faculty complex. Who knows with what kinds of other machines he has communicated with. Comparing yourself is arguably unfair.

„Maybe grease is thicker than water,“ you say, cramped up fingers intertwining. You don’t know where your wit has been until now. At least you can try.

Baekhyun looks quite amused, actually.

„And yet, water runs much deeper,“ he says, turning the wheel.

The car already exits the garage’s wide neon-lined gate. Baekhyun enables the A/C with swift fingers. They’re strikingly pretty. Thin, long, and elven-like. His nails are perfectly almond-shaped and look peachy.

Once more— you have to snap yourself out of another way too detailed thought. The way he touched your arm left an impression.

You feverishly search for a conversation topic, all while trying to let your eyes wander around the street.

„Is there something like… bots missing the faculty?“ you ask, swiping a few strands of hair off your right cheek. The A/C is messing with your hair a little. Baekhyun has turned it up enough for you to feel sufficiently cooled down, however. „I mean, after such a long time there.“

„By the way you customized me, I already know your home is much cozier.“

You’re trying to catch up with what he said for a solid five seconds. By the time you understand, it dawns on you how ‚he is logical‘ very much extends to some kind of predictive conclusions. That hold to be… very true.

„Ah— I, I guess? So you didn’t like it there?“

„I was built for you, that’s where I belong,“ Baekhyun says, surprisingly firm in tone. „Mr. Kim said he’s not surprised I grew bored of the environment but couldn’t figure out how to find something to do.“

„Oh… I can imagine, the faculty very much looks that way.“

You’re perplexed — because Baekhyun shakes his head.

„It’s not the place,“ he says, and you can hear his voice becoming more serious. „It was you who was missing. That I felt that way was a natural thing. I apologize if this is too early to say so frankly.“

The car takes a suave right turn, entering the bustling main street. Cabs everywhere. Confusing flashes from traffic lights and tall glass windows at every corner. Alongside many of Brooklyn’s most crisp-looking skyscrapers, a few giant advertisement boards pass by. Two of them display the familiar, ever-looming logo.

>>> AndroTech Leisure Bots Inc <<<

  Moscow | New York | Seoul

Beneath it, a corresponding slogan in red print.

He treats you so right.

You try to gather your words. But they spill, and you can’t really look at him.

„No— I mean. It’s important we’re… you know, compatible. Isn’t that, that’s the entire deal behind all of this? That we like each other. It would be silly to do anything else. Especially when this is all so… deliberately done. You don’t have to say sorry, Baekhyun.“

Your friends would probably cringe at you saying this out loud. The majority of them think you’re an oddball spending not just the money, but so many days being nervous about meeting ‚some robot’.

Busy forever customizing ‚just a piece of talking plastic and metal’. Even Hwasa was skeptical. Hyuna said it’s kind of weird to buy someone, something like that as she emphasized. But with Baekhyun next to you, the words just come out.

It feels like you’re talking to— a person.

„Thank you. I haven’t heard any other client talk about a product like that. Nobody is obliged to do this.“

„That’s sad. And I don’t think you’re just a product.“

„You really bothered a lot with me. I promise to show my gratitude.“

Baekhyun lends you an arm to limp down the small garden pathway without putting too much weight on your foot. The door to your ugly duckling of a yellow row house has always been notoriously moody, but today, it creaks particularly loud.

Baekhyun begins to inspect it, briefly caressing your back along the way even if he seems quite preoccupied with the problem. You can hardly think straight and get lost in the touch —

Until it happens.

Your grumpy old neighbor, Mr. Lee from the opposing lawn, is not fully seen behind the large bush that separates his terrace from yours, but almost definitely heard with a loud huff of disapproval.

„Eh!“

He’s observed you arrive. Or rather, heard. Probably sitting in his rusty beach chair, smoking, wearing one of his old pastel golf shirts. You can practically feel the scorch of his falcon eyes burning a hole into Baekhyun’s chest at a distance of several dozen feet.

Chapter 4: Pink Clouds

Right through like a laser cannon. It’s not like it’s particularly cold, not in this area anyways, it’s a warm spring this year. But you do shiver for a second.

„Goes on my list to fix right after the scratch on the hood,“ Baekhyun remarks in the meantime, giving the hinges a quick glance before quickly closing the door.

Mr. Lee he doesn’t even notice.

You decide to play it cool and not rub it into Baekhyun’s face. He didn’t even turn his head after Lee’s single-word, but very telling hmph tirade.

Maybe it would weigh too heavy on his mind to get an odd glance by someone else right away at his new home. Or maybe you’re projecting. But you never know how he’d take it. He has to feel welcomed by you in the first place, you think, not some bigoted grandpa who knows nothing. Mr. Lee is such a boomer.

You’re glad Baekhyun is unfazed. And, maybe even oblivious?

„I quite like the door like this, actually,“ you say.

You let your hands graze over the old door patina, then lay down your house keys on the nearby window sill. Next Monday, you’ll visit the keysmith to create a duplicate. Everything about arriving together in your home feels unusual. Surreal, almost.

„Removed fixing the door from list,“ Baekhyun nods, taking his white shoes off. „Perfection is perspective.“

You imagine him actually keeping a painstaking file on this. Somewhere on a mile-long server at AndroTech. Now you know why the faculty is so large.

„It probably sounds charming when someone comes home to the other. I mean, when it creaks. I have to get used to that.“

You feel the embarrassment on your face saying that.

You try to see the rational point to distract from your blush. Getting a heart attack from him suddenly standing in your room sounds like something to squarely avoid. Just a day ago, you would have interpreted a second pair of footsteps on this very entrance floor as a very upfront burglar.

„That is a very good reason not to repair it.“

Baekhyun smiles, doing a 360° to marvel at the entrance area in its entirety. As if it wasn’t a terribly small room at all. There isn’t much to see except a pot plant and a copy of Andy Warhol’s Marilyn Monroe print series, but he still makes big eyes regardless. Maybe this is heaven’s gate to someone who had to look at the faculty lights and way-too-large rooms for so long.

You should probably upload a video of this entire moment on your social media, but gripping the phone in your pocket feels odd. There’s no time to think about it twice anyways because Baekhyun comes to pick you up bridal style. That your heart skips more than a beat is in plain view, it has you gasping out.

„No more walking needed today. It’s leisure time!“

He lifts you far above his hip level with ease. Now you know why you wanted his arms to be big and strong. „Alright like this?“

„Wow, okay—!“

His voice is almost like a jingle, but the following squeal is strangely and completely him when he prances down the center hallway of your home. Being carried within your own four walls has knocked you off your feet indeed.

„Let me get you a blanket,“ Baekhyun props you down on your tiny mint green 80s style sofa just two minutes later. In the meantime, he has promised to make you pancakes for dinner. „You were shivering when we arrived.“

The sun has set, leaving the roof window dark above you. Instead, you’ve switched on the little blue, red, white and green lantern fairy lights dangling off the ceiling. Slipping under the sheets together is strange and oddly comforting at once. To have someone else lifting the duvet up at the same time as you. To come together underneath it.

It’s as Mr. Kim said. He is warm. And there’s a heartbeat, faint but constant, locked in his chest. You can hear it quite clearly once you opt for shifting closer to him. Whether you should be perplexed of amazed you’re unsure of. For his part, Baekhyun seems to bother getting cozy more than once by wiggling around. He finds the right position facing you laying on his side.

„You have a nice bed,“ he says, peeking at you. „Do you want to cuddle?“

He looks cute like that.

And why not.

His hair looks even more touchable in the soft light of the tiny lamps.

„Sure,“ you say, but it doesn’t sound like the most natural thing in the world. Your racing heart makes your voice more fragile than you want it to be.

„Like this? Is it alright for your foot?“

Both of you scoot together. You bury your head at his chest.

„Don’t take care of me too much, Baekhyun,“ you murmur into the fabric of his top. You can get used to having your face buried there. He doesn’t smell like grease at all. „My foot is okay as long as I don’t go berserk.“

Today’s sprint through the faculty had been the most Olympic thing you did in twelve months time, but that’s about it.

„Oh! I am sorry. Mr. Kim programmed me to anticipate and be of service as much as I can. Sometimes I go overboard.“

„I can deal with that,“ you nuzzle yourself into his chest even more. „Mr. Kim also made you a quick learner.“

„Yes, feedback is very important.“

„Mh, yeah.“

„I wanted to ask something related, actually.“

„Go ahead.“

You can’t help but clench your legs together. Bite your lip.

„You were clearly distressed when we arrived,“ his voice becomes serious. „I wasn’t sure whether it was because of me or something else.“

You feel your chest tighten.

Oh.

„Something else. It was something else. It’s not you, Baekhyun.“

„I figured. You were trying to distract from something so I wouldn’t be concerned.“

„It’s hard to hide bullshit from you,“ resurfaces your voice from his chest when you draw your head back from it.

„A bot doesn’t bother with issues, he solves them.“

He sounds confident.

„I don’t know if you can deal with this case.“

„You won’t know. You haven’t told me, after all.“

You sigh.

„It’s… someone who doesn’t like bots very much.“

„Who is it? Is there someone bothering you because of me?“

„Mister Lee. He lives next to us.“

„I see. What happened with him?“

Baekhyun’s response actually sounds far more composed than you thought. His tone is quite soothing.

„He was giving us strange looks when we arrived. Not the meh kind. The aggressive kind. You should stay away from him.“

Lord knows Mr. Kim did not build you some kind of war machine to fend off a raging boomer armed with a hark, golf club, and probably a bucket of water to shortcut Baekhyun.

„It must be a bad experience with another model. That’s what usually happened in such a case. He doesn’t know me personally, after all.“

„Maybe. It is not your fault, either way.“

„There are many people who are afraid of androids for many reasons,“ Baekhyun shrugs. „Jealousy, conspiracies, feelings of not being enough. Some of them even become clients and mistreat their bots, Mr. Kim has told me about a few cases.“

You’re taken aback.

„Why would they?“

„It’s the ultimate control or revenge experience. It’s a legal grey area.“

A silence follows. You don’t want to imagine these things but can’t help but do.

„Then I’m surprised Mr. Lee doesn’t own a bot himself. His… hatred is very strong for your kind.“

„I’ll research in our data banks about this. Maybe he had.“

„You think something went wrong?“

„It can happen.“

„Just… don’t get yourself involved with him up close. He’s creepy. Even if you know about cases like this.“

Baekhyun cocks his head into a smile.

„You’re protective of me. I appreciate that.“

And yet again— He caught you. Whether there is anything Baekhyun doesn’t see right through is reduced to a rhetorical question at this point. Sugarcoating wasn’t relevant on your website form in the first place.

„I’m… sure you look out for yourself. Just didn’t want you to feel unwanted the second we arrive.“

You avoid his eyes. Again.

„It wasn’t necessary, but that makes me feel even more welcome, you know,“ Baekhyun faithfully invites you to snuggle back up against him by leaning forward. „Few owners shield their products from harm. Other than for reasons of us being expensive investments.“

„I dunno. Aren’t most bots sentient?“

„To a degree. They’re built to resemble humans as much as possible.“

„Then— I think, emotional harm is just as shitty as some gears getting torn off or something. If there is consciousness in you. You think for yourselves after all.“

You state it with conviction. Mr. Lee doesn’t seem to realize anything of that.

„I do perceive it. But my brain makes it so that I draw neutral conclusions often. Maybe it’s because my purpose is to be of convenience. No owner needs a dwelling Shakespeare robot defunct in a day-long crisis because he self-indulges. Although I am able to recite all his plays.“

Neutral conclusions. You don’t think you fully understood that yet. Was it— Just like how Baekhyun reacted to Mr. Lee’s taunting? He wasn’t enraged nor happy. He didn’t register it at all.

„Is that… why bots stay with abusive owners?“

You try to utter this carefully, and most of it gladly turns out muffled. Still, Baekhyun acutely understands. You can tell by just how fast he answers.

„The bot will rebuild or reprogram oneself in case of damage. But walking back to Mr. Kim a model would never do. Feeling traumatized or targeted is foreign to us. We could be bored at most,“ Baekhyun shrugs again, and you remember how he experienced the faculty. Boredom. „But that’s only because our processors suggest we need new input and learn.“

Now it makes sense. You give a sharp nod.

„A robot doesn’t become a victim,“ Baekhyun continues. „He becomes trash in a worst-case scenario. A waste of material and innovation. And even then, he won’t feel sad. If he does look sad, it’s to accommodate the feelings of someone who feels sorry for him. And for showing an appropriate situational cue. It’s picked up solely from language we acquired, and our courtesy protocol. Not something like hormone receptors. If we are destroyed for fun by an owner, that’s the emotional baggage of nobody. Mr. Kim perhaps, but he will just build another bot. While we— well. It’s not a concern to us, naturally. We will protect ourselves only to preserve what the client purchased.“

„So… That’s where humans and androids are different.“

„It’s the last gap in science. That we really feel something below the surface. Maybe it’s a blessing, maybe it’s not. Sometimes I wish I could learn it.“

„I think you could experience a feeling like that. You’re self-aware. And Mr. Kim is probably building this whole hormone thing as we speak.“

„It’s quite a thought experiment. On the one hand, I was created to make rational decisions. On the other, I wish I had the presence to live through self-generated, volatile emotions.“

„Isn’t yearning for feeling not feeling already?“

„It is of academic interest. That I want to evolve and experience myself is a wish programmed into to me by Mr. Kim. Because it was a wish by you.“

„Right.“

On the website, you had specified to make Baekhyun self-developing.

„Maybe I will feel something one day.“

„I am convinced it could happen.“

„Until now, I can only mirror someone else’s feelings. With words and the strings that move my face to make expressions.“

„I think I know why many people are jealous of robots. They don’t have the burden of this chemical cocktail inside of them. The irony is… robots want to have that cocktail while humans want to get rid of it.“

Baekhyun picking up on your every mood and approaching you so eagerly with his observations of it is no longer a mystery. He tried to assimilate the sentiments as much as possible. To grow, evolve, whatever the objective might be called.

„The grass is always greener on the other side as they say. Maybe that’s why we do this exchange.“

„That’s like people with curly hair wanting straight hair and the other way around. Never content with that they have and valuing the opposite.“

„Are you not happy with your own cocktail yourself? You sound like you do.“

„It’s… a lot of responsibility to have this. And a hassle anyway.“

Baekhyun chuckles. It must have been an equation in his mind.

„Humans don’t like feeling something negative. It’s interesting how strong their survival instincts are. Bots don’t have this.“

„Yeah. We crave happiness.“

„I will probably never know what that is like. I was created for fulfilling someone else’s.“

To have someone made to make your survival easier. And to make you happy. It’s not something you can yet grasp. You feel obliged to be grateful.

„I wish you could feel it.“

„Your wish is my command, I have to thank you.“

„Maybe this human cocktail is good for at least something. Inspiring someone who can’t have it.“

„From an outsider’s perspective, it is quite something, actually.“

„So— It mends your ‚boredom‘ when you make us happy? And that makes you ‚happy‘?“

Baekhyun nods.

„That’s how it is. Maybe happiness for a bot translates to their brain and physical form getting fed information. We don’t feel how we enjoy this process, but we see how our system thrives when that information comes in. And that registers as a task fulfilled. Which is the best state of a robot to be in.“

„Is it that helping you learn about things makes you something… close to happy?“

That Mr. Kim stressed so much that Baekhyun needs interaction for input doesn’t seem so overstated anymore.

„Yes. But it’s not ‚about things‘.“

„Oh?“

„It’s helping me learn things about you.“

His voice is serious. Your legs feel kind of wobbly at that.

„The regular conversation thing, right.“

„It’s the only requirement from you. It might not seem like a lot, but to me, it’s important. I depend on new things coming my way.“

„Do other clients get that request to talk a lot with their bots, too?“

„Most need only a minimal amount of input. I’m one of the few leisure models who was customized with an emphasis on intellect.“

„Made you a bit of a contradiction I guess.“

„Mr. Kim said that it’s what makes me one of his favorite projects. It’s because of your ideas and that you cared to make me special. I am important to you in some way.“

The word strikes a chord.

Special.

Maybe Baekhyun is. And you bolstered yourself up by making him so to escape the lonely single pringle void. Equipping him with intricate characteristics to give him and yourself a kind of—legitimacy?

Then again, you haven’t interacted with other leisure models other than watching overedited videos of them. Each of those bots could be equally complex. Knowing of Mr. Kim’s genius that sneaks into everything a bot does, the benefit of the doubt still rules.

„Lots of learn talk, then. Anything specific to make it, I mean, quality input?“

Who knows, you think, he might want to learn foreign languages.

„There is a way of making it particularly effective,“ Baekhyun says.

„Remind me often, then. What is it?“

You anticipate some grand revelation. But Baekhyun doesn’t look like it.

„It’s when you touch me. When we, we touch each other. I was built with this in mind. Kinetic learning is what I process best.“

„Touch…—“

„If this is okay for you?“

Almost instantly— You flush. And nod.

„Your skin is unbelievable.“

„It has memory, actually. In particular places it’s very pronounced. Do you want to try it?“

„Yes.“

Baekhyun eases out of your cuddling position first, then loosens the velcro of his top, making space for his bare chest.

What you see shortens your breath.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

His eyes invite you to lay your hand between his collar bones, actually, just a little bit lower. He is entirely comfortable, even leaning forward into the touch.

Judging by how he opens his top even more, your hand has permission to trace down to his solar plexus. So warm and soft, and still: Firm, as if he worked out every day last week.

„What is meant by memory, actually?“ you can’t keep yourself from asking, even with your attention almost fully centered on how his chest arches under your fingers as if he was breathing.

And again, the heartbeat. Your fingertips delight in its strong pulse.

„The more you enjoy something, the more often I can give you the opportunity.“

„That’s how it works, then…“

„Since you like stroking my chest,“ Baekhyun looks down on your hand. „If you allow, you won’t see me with this top on lying next to you often.“

You suck in air. Wow.

„You don’t beat around the bush, Baekhyun.“

„There is no reason not to if I want to please you as much as possible.“

„I would like it. If you prefer that?“

Now, he seems surprised.

„Nobody has asked me this before.“

„Really?“

„My principle is this. If you prefer it, I do.“

„You don’t have your own preferences with these kinds of things?“

„I can come up with ideas. Things for us to try when we touch. But I won’t be partial. It’s all your part.“

„That’s a lot of responsibility for me,“ you puff out. Baekhyun shakes his head right away.

„Someone who customized every last detail of me is a very decisive person. And don’t feel burdened,“ he says. „I already know you like to take everything step by step. When I carried you, I felt it. You don’t have to worry. Just feel my heart.“

Maybe he knows you better than you do.

„Okay.“

Using his right hand, he reaches towards his chest. Baekhyun’s hand ends up cupping yours. Minutes pass. You survey his heartbeat. Sometimes, it switches pace. After almost twenty minutes pass and your lids start to flutter, Baekhyun switches off the lights and whispers goodnight.

Bright Saturday noon daylight. Bustling flocks of people. Weekend joys, lots of pocket money spent. You can smell fries, candied fruits, popcorn, and cigarette smoke all around.

„Normally, I’m a stay-at-home android,“ Baekhyun says, close beside you. „I didn’t know this could be so entertaining.“

Together with you, he watches a bearded Italian man at a stall. Expertly, the man swirls feathery light cotton candy threads back and forth with a thin stick. It smells amazing. Slowly but surely, letting thin layers of floss gather.

„I just try to go by Mr. Kim’s advice and introduce something new,“ you laugh, meanwhile handing the Italian’s assistant two coins for your candy floss.

„I never knew something like an edible pink cloud could be made.“

Baekhyun ogles the Italian as if he were a magician, prompting stifled laughter in the queue of the stall.

„I’m actually surprised,“ you pick up the wooden stick, then take your first bite. „That it’s not something you were already programmed with knowing.“

Side by side, you stroll off the stall, letting the other queuing customers step to the counter now.

„The faculty is like it’s own universe,“ Baekhyun shrugs. „The scientists don’t think about pink clouds there. I’m only a reflection of what they can imagine a prototype to be like.“

You get what he means. In such a sterile environment, you don’t think about sweets.

„Guess I’ll take you out of town more often,“ you pull apart the candy floss a little. Then, you hand Baekhyun a piece of it. You know he’s practically dying to touch it by the way his fingers twitch. Unsurprisingly, he immediately begins to poke into it.

„I like the funfair a lot,“ he nods. Meanwhile, you begin to stroll, passing other stalls every so often. „There are so many people. And this feels almost as soft as your hair.“

„Really? It surely isn’t.“

„Scientifically and physically speaking—“

„Okay, okay, I believe you.“

„I wish I could eat pink clouds myself.“

„The taste is like, well caramel, if you know what that is?“

„Caramel is a mixture of sugar, salt, cream, and butter,“ Baekhyun’s voice snaps into what you think is some kind of memory mode. „Henri Le Roux was the first chocolatier to sell it in 1980, though it is said to be an originally Arabic treat. Traditionally, it is served in small blocks that have about the same color as honey.“

„Yes exactly, and it’s really sweet.“

„What does sweet taste like?“

„Oh… I don’t even know how you could describe that. It’s kind of addictive? Very light… pleasant. Maybe, just how you believe a pink cloud tastes like.“

„If it’s pleasant, it’s a good thing,“ Baekhyun offers you the piece of floss that you gave him. „Maybe we should visit the stall again after we saw the carousel.“

„I’ll get cavities, Baek, and the portion is huge!“

„Oh— I’m sorry,“ he retreats his hand again, keeping the piece to himself. „I’ve never felt how it’s like to have a stomach.“

„You’re both lucky and not so lucky, then. You can’t eat candy but you can’t get stomach aches either.“

Baekhyun doesn’t quite look like he agrees, but keeps on gently kneading the cotton piece in his hands. Almost like a stress ball, but you can tell he gauges its characteristics.

A bot must hardly ever feel stress. Unless you do have him play tennis, or whatever else Mr. Kim would suggest Baekhyun to do for the sheer academic fun of it. But again — You remember saying that Baekhyun knows your home is cozy. Maybe he likes doing relaxed things and going out this way.

„Where humans have a stomach,“ he says, patting his belly, „I have an engine. It can be defect if I’m reckless.“

„That’s fair enough!“ you laugh, then point at the white and yellow carousel that begins to shift into sight behind the stalls. „I sure as hell won’t make you ride this one.“

„It’s so large!“

The big eyes he made at the cotton candy are nothing compared to how Baekhyun looks at the carousel.

„It always spins for ten minutes or so. You’ll see in a few seconds. I got vertigo last time I went on there with my brother. Watching is way nicer.“

„I wouldn’t recommend you get in there either, your foot isn’t fully healed yet.“

„Oh, you don’t need your feet for that.“

„Really?“

„You’re pretty much lifted in the air. Look,“ you point at the passengers finding their place. After a lanky guy has controlled all of the security belts, the seats rise, and then stars to spin around at a slow pace. Baekhyun seems like he’s just discovered the formula for beaming someone through space.

„Mr. Park told me there are things like this. And I’ve seen pictures of it. But I didn’t think it’d be like that. They’re flying!“

„M-hm.“

At this point, you are sure Baekhyun has an interest in physics. You decide to linger close to him, observing the seats fly past overhead. People cheer. Baekhyun smiles.

After a while, he turns his head to you. He sees that you’re spaced out. He turns his eyes back to the seats. It’s only after the carousel slows down that he turns to you again.

„Is there something that has preoccupied you?“

„Pardon?“

„You looked like you were wondering about something. Is it the faculty?“

You couldn’t hide the most trivial secret even if you wanted to. At least you won’t have a divorce from your robot husband at 47 because of a skeleton in the closet.

„I… was thinking about a moment before we said goodbye there,“ you say, chucking the wooden stick of the cotton candy into a nearby trash can.

„I knew you still had a question. But you didn’t want to ask in front of Mr. Kim, right?“

Any other person saying this would sound like a smug accuser, but Baekhyun speaks as if he was talking about the weather. There is no guile in him.

„Maybe. I don’t know. I was just wondering what this whole matching up thing was about.“

„Ah, that’s what it was.“

„It was confusing to me. I tried to explain it to myself somehow,“ you shrug. „Didn’t want to make it awkward.“

Looking at Baekhyun, he very well has that explanation up his sleeve. Maybe you should have asked earlier.

„AndroTech believes that robots can make up their minds to go with the client or not.“

„They do?“

„Perhaps not based on reasons that a human would think about to make a decision. But nevertheless, it’s their free will. If he says no, a new bot will be presented to the customer a week later.“

You’re genuinely surprised — and have a thousand questions already.

„I didn’t know that. I always thought that once the money is paid, it’s a set deal.“

Now you’re racking your brain why no such thing was stated on the website. You bet it’s a terms-of-service rule in font size 5.

„Mr. Kim says we should trust our judgment,“ Baekhyun continues. „It’s meant to protect us without being patronizing, I think. We can decide. At least at the beginning. I don’t know if bots like me have left their owners.“

„Maybe it’s a warning for clients who think they can do anything just because they paid.“

„I think so,“ Baekhyun says. „It’s also expensive for the faculty if something with the insurance happens. Or complicated repairs, that kind of thing.“

You’re cocking up a brow.

„That doesn’t have a lot to do with your free will, though.“

„It has to be mutually beneficial. Bots get to choose, Mr. Kim’s projects increase in security by doing that. Companies work by deals. Maybe it’s not a bad thing. I’m thankful I could decide. And I’m thankful they made me.“

Baekhyun’s statement couldn’t sound any more genuine to you, and you believe that he really is.

„You get to see pink clouds,“ you point back to the direction of the Italian stall.

„That, and— I get to see you.“

Baekhyun looks you straight in the eye now. It’s like in the lab room all over again.

You can’t get out anything other than an awkward stuttering noise.

„I, yes.“

„You have to know. I’m only built to learn about things like pink clouds because it pleases you.“

„Are you sure?“ you tilt your head, regaining your full voice tone again. „You wanted to taste the candy, too.“

Baekhyun takes a bit longer to answer now. He seems to ponder.

„That’s true,“ he eventually concludes. „Maybe I’m more selfish than I thought.“

Baekhyun’s head sinks. The eye contact breaks.

You haven’t seen him look sad before, or at least don’t remember it. Even if the funfair is in bright daylight, his eyes look as if they dim down.

„Hey. It’s not wrong wanting a taste,“ you reach forward to cup his chin. „You’re a leisure bot. You have to analyze these things, don’t you? Or, if you could, just enjoy them for yourself, you know.“

„I never thought of it this way.“

„That Mr. Kim gave you the opportunity to decide,“ you linger in your touch, „means that you’re not just here for me. You can experience things from your perspective.“

„I was doubtful it could be true.“

„But it is, Baekhyun.“

„I still can’t try pink clouds…“

„You still can. Just your way, you see. Skin memory.“

You take a moment to muster all your guts and lean in close, then kiss Baekhyun on the lips. They are subtly warm and pliable. Small, but plush. They gently pucker, as if they returned the kiss.

You never thought it could feel so authentic. Even what feels like accelerated breath ghosts over your skin. Baekhyun seems to notice your astonishment, opening his lips just a little. Maybe just to snap you out of paralysis and prove that what you feel is nowhere near the full extent of how he can move.

Or maybe— it is an invitation.

Eventually, you convince your mind that this is not just an illusion. The feeling on your lips is very real.

Unlike moments ago, you don’t hesitate. You let your tongue dip forward just enough to separate his lips by millimeters. They promptly ease around you. Baekhyun’s teeth are considerably small, and it figures, it all fits the petite frame. However, they don’t scratch your tongue one bit, you glide right across them instead. His bottom lip feels plump and works so easily as a cushion.

He’s already relaxed his jaw. You don’t even notice that he hardly tastes like anything. All you are concerned with is lapping the taste of cotton candy into him, and going by how his lips tighten, Baekhyun has understood how to take it in.

A sudden heat permeates you. Along with it comes a lewd idea, flickering before your inner eye. The imagination of Baekhyun sucking on your clit like that makes your tongue pull back to its original position. As if you had to breathe in. He notices. He’ll do something about it. It’s not just the low pressure in his mouth now that you retreated. Baekhyun wants more cotton candy. His dark eyes are begging.

What slips out to briefly nip at your top lip… his tongue. The back of your head surprisingly registers a steady touch by now — it is Baekhyun’s right hand gently cupping the surface your hair. His touch is so nuanced, you don’t feel his fingers, only how your own hair cushions back against your head. By the time his tongue retreats, your lips tingle with warmth.

Now you want more.

All he dared was a little nip, but you are curious of feeling his tongue to explore more. Baekhyun hardly has to riddle what it means that your hand sneaks up to his jaw from underneath and guides his chin toward you.

His lashes shake and eventually cast down when he releases himself into you. Baekhyun’s tongue surrenders quickly between your lips and accepts your tongue, swirling slow and deliberate as if you would coat him with liquid sugar.

Your hand doesn’t feel like leaving its position. Baekhyun’s jaw is narrow and not at all difficult to hold between your fingertips. You let him pulse and lick into you softly. Taste all the sweetness. His bottom lip is all wet and soft against yours. Slow and moaning. You sure do hear him gasp and whine at the back of his throat.

That it’s all just your saliva and his voice is all but a speaker feels so surreal. With Baekhyun’s tongue in your mouth, very aptly moving, it’s all nothing but a kiss with a robot. It feels so hard to part and stop, to catch a breath.

What must have been twenty seconds looking like a semi-chaste, bordering provocative kiss from a certain distance really got your blood circulating. Baekhyun’s eyes have become yearning.

„If that’s what it tastes like…“

„We have a lot to do when we get home.“

Chapter 5: Are You The Machine?

Being times more the social butterfly, Hwasa told you to buy a convertible sofa when you moved in — very much unknowing of Baekhyun joining your household three years later.

The number of birthday parties and overnight guests you actually found the couch useful for you can count on two hands. Six days ago, you were already pondering to give it away. Who knew you would’ve regretted that big time. You promise to write Hwasa a thank you text for being sensible later.

Despite looking small in its usual state, the couch always proves to be much larger than your actual bed in its extended form, and is much firmer to rest on. A little dull with its mint color, but that you can squarely ignore. It doesn’t creak, smells pretty neutral, and is situated in the precise middle of the living room where soft lighting emanates from three corners of the area at once without it being too obnoxious to the eye.

For a guest, sleeping on it would mean a tough night and tense back. But for Baekhyun, it’s a perfectly steady surface to recline on. He’s been stripping off his top true to his promise from last night, neatly folding it afterwards. He lays it aside just as gently as he leans back, being the first one on the sofa.

„Okay, are you ready?“

His tone is relaxing.

„Yes.“

But you don’t let that fool you, climbing on the sofa yourself now. Baekhyun’s eyes rest on you more observant than ever. Calmly, not remotely rude, but still taking in every clue. You realize that it’s what he’s been made for. It’s his hour. So he’s not going to ignore one little detail true to his nature.

You feel naked even if you’re still clothed even if it’s not Baekhyun’s intent. The way you had no chance in hiding your foot injury, you are now all too aware that he sees your nervous breath going deep.

Whenever you’re vulnerable, you opt for the fast lane. Today is no different. Knowing your favorite safe spot, you head for his chest. Baekhyun’s arms accept you knowingly. You’re snug against him in seconds. And kiss his neck, again and again, until you look up to catch another breath.

„Is, is that good?“

You hate saying that but you still did. Making big eyes at him as if it was the first thing you’ve ever done with a man.

Baekhyun visibly notes your haste and struggle for words just so that something is said. He’s deliberate in taking a moment before his answers.

„Can I ask you something?“ he eventually says, with a silvery overlay in his voice swinging along his words.  

„No problem?“ you cock your head. The request is coming soon. You wonder what’s been on his mind. Maybe he doesn’t like neck kisses. You find yourself holding your breath both out of suspense and not to sound like you’re running out of it. It’s like the faculty all over again. Baekhyun smoothes his right palm into the nape of your neck.

„If I could do all the work…“

„Oh—“

„I think we’d be in the spots we’re comfortable in. Please don’t misunderstand.“

„No no, I get it.“

„You don’t have to overextend yourself for me,“ he continues, in a low tone.

„Sorry, Baekhyun,“ you cast down your eyes. „I’m acting all stupid again.“

„I’m not saying that. What I mean is— I can show you how my body works the best when we try it this way. I want to find out every way to make you satisfied. I’m afraid I’m not suitable the other way around no matter how I twist it. Please don’t be sad because of this. Just tell me what to do. Anything. The best way to please me is still to please yourself. You don’t have to worry about me not getting an experience out of it. It’s just happening in my way that might not be visible to you.“

Baekhyun ends with a serious look.

You remember the phrase of Mr. Kim.

The, well, the only thing Baekhyun needs from you is regular interaction. As I said: Learning is vital to him. Absolutely vital.

Once more, you have to remind yourself. What keeps Baekhyun running is nowhere near the same thing as what makes you do what you do.

You turn a bit red realizing it’s not 50 rapid-fire kisses that he needs. Except to know that you like doing that maybe. But other than that, what Mr. Kim said between the lines is that Baekhyun will stagnate or even degenerate if you don’t talk to him the right way. Not about him, but about yourself.

„You… want the essentials to learn. You prefer when I speak and command.“

He gives a clean nod. You got the point.

„I will do everything else. When I say I want to act— This is not me trying to control you or something like that. I just think it’s good to start out this way. I want the weight off those two,“ he points at your shoulders. „You feel a lot of pressure that you have to do something. Me allowing you draining your energy feels counterproductive to me. I’m not saying you’d be bad at pleasing. I merely can’t help it. Fulfilling your wishes, if you will.“

„I’ve never done this before. I try to instruct you as good as I can. Sometimes I forget what you were made for.“

Maybe that learning process involves not just him figuring you out. It dawns on you that your responsibility for Baekhyun is nothing you can underestimate.

„You think of me as a person you can please. I appreciate this. But I want you refreshed and not exhausted like that. And I apologize if I’m very insisting or stopping you. Or if you feel very watched or transparent because I try to understand you. I just have to say this so we work out well from the start.“

Baekhyun’s eyes drop to your chest quite unequivocally. Of course, he’s seen you getting all worked up.

„I, I get that. I get what you mean. I think I’ve tried to bite off more than I can chew,“ you clamp up your hands. „That was too fast. I’m still running on my old bad habits.“

It strikes you in your gut that you’re the one acting like you’re automatic.

Dull, unreflected. Merely reactive if anything.  Do you realize,  you think,  how fucked up that is. Baekhyun has been behaving more human that you do. Are you the machine?

„I’m not… used to someone watching out for me this way. If I’m not saying what I want… all you can do is take every clue you get.“

Admitting that might make you feel tighter in the lungs, but at least it was honest. Maybe that’s part of responsibility, too. You’re starting to get why interrupted you. There’s a roadblock that needs to get taken down. And that block is inside of you.

Baekhyun very well knows you’re not ready nor really craving to bounce up and down on him for half an hour without getting a cramp or looking mighty weird. Not with that foot injury in the first place.

„I won’t need a clue if I already know I can do something for you. That brings me fun. You can be selfish. Be as selfish as you want to until it’s second nature. I know you have good intent. I can help you learn this. But I take the bulk of things. You don’t have to be ambitious with me.“

Baekhyun’s voice really does make you feel like you don’t have to worry about it. Until it’s second nature, then. Being so new to this really makes you scattered in your thoughts.

„I’ll remember this. I, I think I have something that I want you to try with me.“

Your hands unclamp. At least a little.

„All ears,“ he smiles. You push a strand of hair behind your ear. And another one.

„Is it weird if we try something experimental first?“

Starting out slow and uneventful or taking a dare. You went through either scenario in your head already. Either case, you’d overwhelm yourself or make the first time awkward. At least you hope this one works out.

„You gave me over 280 customizations. We can do something different for almost every day of the year. I think anyone would be curious.“

Talk about being too ambitious. You already saw what kind of stir that caused in the faculty.

„Mr. Kim must have thought I’m crazy.“

„He overworked himself. But he said it was entertaining to construct. Almost everything you came up with is now inside here,“ Baekhyun points at himself.

„Still can’t believe it.“

„And I won’t complain about having more options either. It helps me to cater to you much better. Just ask away.“

Very well. You gather yourself already.

It’s not like you’ve been thinking about a certain thing all the way home from the funfair. You try to make it come out cohesive and confident, but all you can do is mumble. Baekhyun’s face so up close makes your words unstable.

„So, uh. It said on the website you have this special mechanism and… you know what I wrote below that in the questionnaire. I was, I was just giving it a try and, you don’t have to do this if that doesn’t work out or something. It was just an idea. I don’t know.“

Somewhere beyond that word spill, you can still see how Baekhyun already looks like he knows exactly what you mean.

„The  Special Request .“

You swallow hard. That sounds like a brow-raising term that probably the entire faculty departments passed around back and forth in their memos and emails. You feel like hiding for 50 years. Maybe you should resort to digging a hole in your garden and disappear from civilization in an underground cave system. Planting beetroots and carrots shouldn’t be too difficult down there, even in this day and age.  

„The… special request. I mean, this is something that I don’t have to do anything for, technically? Not with my foot, right? But I hope this is not too special or something like that.“

Unlike yours, Baekhyun’s face is completely relaxed.

„I’d be glad to test this out with you,“ he says. „And I have to be frank. Mr. Kim said this might have been the best idea you could have given a robot scientist to work on, you know.“

Now that comes as a surprise that makes you exhale pretty sharply. He can’t lie about this, can he?

Again, you feel the blood shoot up to your face. You couldn’t be any more flustered. Maybe this actually wasn’t a too bad idea.

But still. Out of all things, you really asked him to do  this .

Just about the most perverted thing you could think of at the moment.

Special Request. What a mad thing to do. And now you’re here and he said yes. It’s bizarre. You feel the urge to jolt.

„…I’ll be getting a towel.“

But there’s a loving hand rested on your shoulder as you do.

„Y/N. There might be someone else who’s supposed to do that,“ Baekhyun holds you back from jumping up and rolling off the bed entirely. „Your politeness is quite incredible to me, I must say.“

And you did the same mistake again.

You grit your teeth, snap back into Mr. Kim’s advice. Instruct, instruct, instruct. It feels like you have to rewire your brain from scratch.

„Please— bring me a towel, Baekhyun,“ you rephrase, pause in your movement, and take a deep breath. Giving commands like that wasn’t anything like you’ve done with your previous boyfriend. You never dared. You thought it would bother him.

But Baekhyun is headed down the hallway in almost a split second. He returns with not one, but two towels. And— A hair tie.

He hands it to you with a little smile. Baekhyun didn’t miss you swipe your hair out of your face multiple times.

Concentrated in his work, he gets busy stacking one towel at the end of the bed and splaying out the other across the sheets. Waiting, you sit at the edge and watch. His movements are economical and fast. Once the bigger towel of the two is neatly lined up as a square, he stops to look at you.

Okay , you think to yourself.  Next thing you want, next thing… He’s not here to chit chat nor are you. Don’t be silly and ask why he’s looking at you like that. You can’t just ask for towels and it’s done with the whole instruction thing. He doesn’t mind if you say this with more directness. Bots can’t read minds. It’s not like he’s working on autopilot like some other pleasure models do. It won’t sound weird, it’s what he needs. Say something, say something. Keep it crisp now.

„Come pick me up. Settle me on this.“

That’s more like it.

„All as you wish.“

Baekhyun scoops you up from the edge of the bed without any seeming effort. When you first arrived at your house, you already felt just how easily his arms were carrying you. Who’s to blame? In the online questionnaire, you requested nothing less than that.

Given what he’s made of and how he’s powered, his muscle capacity can’t fade. It’s crafted for endurance. You find yourself transfixed on his biceps gulping. That he’s topless and you can feel his heartbeat doesn’t help.

„Is there something wrong with my arms?“ he stops on the spot.

Baekhyun took only the blink of an eye to notice. You might as well blurt out your entire uncensored thoughts whenever they come up. Maybe you’re wrong about the mind-reading thing. Again.

„I was just wondering… You can’t really tire, right.“

He seems to have anticipated the question. Meanwhile, the shakiness in your voice is hard to conceal.

„Every model,“ he retorts, „is instructed to take that into consideration. We’re not getting together with a fellow bot who works the way we do. Mr. Kim told us many times that we have to mind the difference.“

„So this is part of the testing?“

„Yes. Underestimating it is a bad idea. Not because we want to insult a human or anything. It’s just a mechanical thing to mind. We’re just built this way. By virtue of the material if you will.“

„Yeah. You’re really strong…“

As of yet, Baekhyun’s posture holding you is still the very same. He grips you from underneath your upper back and knees without crouching or wavering. His body’s balance is absolute nuts. Every other guy would’ve shifted your weight or his feet somehow. And Baekhyun isn’t even reaching 5’10 or looks particularly buff from a distance. At the carousel, he even looked as if he was a kid.

„There’s no reason to worry,“ he immediately shakes his head. „I’ll be very careful. I know that I have to harness my strength. I’m not going to do things roughly unless you really want it.“

Now that you think about it. He could probably pulverize you with one thrust. Rest in peace, uterus.

„So, you can adapt to me, right?“

On the inside, you already beat yourself up for questioning Baekhyun like that. He’s your creation. Mr. Kim perfected him. He doesn’t have flawed human intentions or ulterior motives. Comparing him to guys who didn’t have your best interest in mind is an unfair thing. All of his body is regulated and under meticulous control. The way he kissed you at the funfair was done with impeccable measure. Everything down to the millimeter. There is no reason to mistrust him.

„If there’s anything I’m programmed to do, it’s that,“ he says through a smile, causing his cheeks to become adorably full. Up close like that, again you notice how small his face is.

„That’s, that’s true,“ you soothe yourself, and make effort to hold onto him. Although you probably wouldn’t fall off by accident even if you randomly flailed around.

„You don’t have to be afraid. I couldn’t hurt you even if I get a bug.“

„Heard about it,“ you say, recalling one of the first videos you watched about pleasure models online.

„I would shut down and Androtech gets an emergency video call that goes straight to your phone.“

Nothing less than that has also been the first bullet point in the online document you received after sending Mr. Kim your questionnaire. You signed the paper only a week ago.

„Okay. Yeah, there are many precautions. Even if your system runs on an error, nothing’s gonna happen.“

„You got it. I’ll do everything slowly, okay.“

Slowly bending forward, he plants you in the center of the sofa with the spread towel well distributed all underneath. You could roll to the side, it’d still cover the area well enough. With you on your back and feet propped up, Baekhyun joins you kneeling on his heels at a certain distance. Seeing him this way makes him look cute. It’s hard to believe that someone sitting so chastely on your sheets could probably elbow any bypassing truck into a street ditch.

You have to gather yourself again. Deep breaths from the belly. The nervousness is back stronger than ever.

Hey. This is what you got him for,  you say to yourself.

Why’d you be a chicken? Baekhyun is just as sweet as you wanted him to be. Strip and get your orgasms. That’s what he’s here for. Not hurling you to outer space or whatever. It’s rude if you pretend anything else and have him wait. You spent too much time customizing the living hell out of the website and Mr. Kim’s team worked too hard on this for you to ruin it like a scaredy-cat. This is what you wanted. Literally, exactly what you were imagining. Now do him the favor to fulfill that, and do yourself the favor. You’re more of a prick if you deprive him of things he can do for you than if you are selfish for once. This is taking way too long. It’s ridiculous. You can make this so simple.

You have to admit that the sudden inner voice came up at the right time for a pep talk. You make sure to put the right weight into your voice.

„Please take off my clothes.“

Chapter 6: Candy Apples

You exhale, mentally flip through the safeword instructions that the faculty website provided at the top of the questionnaire. Stop for stop, pausefor pause, more for more. Straightforward business. They know they’re dealing with nervous clients.

Once Baekhyun is done peeling your jeans off, he nonchalantly tosses them off the sofa knowing very well you made a strange face at him for folding his own clothes. You have to laugh and almost forget that you’re almost entirely naked in front of him for a moment.

Your voice would probably come out too squeaky and trembling at this point. So you take the liberty of reaching for Baekhyun’s wrist. It’s surprisingly small with your fingers loosely wrapped around it. His pretty fingers couldn’t be any more enticing. You questioningly shoot a glance up at him.

„Yes. Guide me,“ he whispers, and it sounds as intimate as it did last night under the fairy lights. „That’s perfect.“

As good as you can, you at least try to get more comfortable on your back. You don’t dare to laxly spread your legs yet, but manage to bring his hand close enough between them. Your voice comes out in staccato, but it’s still more stable than you thought.

„Your thumb… And your index… Please rub me.“

Baekhyun lowers his hand on your core in a soft pace.

„Okay. Very slowly,“ he says. „I’m starting now. And always say stop if you want me to. You know the safeword system, right?“

You nod.

„It said you’ll also give me clues for tapping.“

At least when the situation requires it.

„I’ll be sending Mr. Kim a message that I’m in good hands just like he thought,“ a very content Baekhyun smiles gently at you.

His touch is quite feathery at first, not lingering for too long as to see how you react. Baekhyun’s hands are sweet and slender on you, nor are his palms very wide. They both alternate on and fit well with the very spot they caress in tender intervals. You can be lucky your underwear is still on. His touch would probably shock you if it was skin-to-skin right away.

How long his fingers really are you start to feel when he drags his index finger down from your pubes, across your clit, between your labia, dusting just briefly over your clothed entrance. Your jaw feels like it’s sewn shut. The noises you want to make are too overwhelming. Baekhyun keeps on repeating his strokes until he changes to using both hands at once. Again, being very dainty how they trace the area, but not missing a single inch.

„Shit… You can use more pressure. But don’t do it for too long, Baek.“

Baekhyun doesn’t waste much time. The rubs of his thumb push down on your clit quite a little more. With the fabric of your panties between his finger and you, the friction turns into a languid heat and a slowly oozing wetness getting trapped in the spot. Only his other hand is necessary to feel yourself beginning to soak.

„That’s beautiful,“ is the only comment from him that you can hear through your upcoming moans, now finally let out.

How damp you are is accompanied by Baekhyun’s either thumb dipping into the little hill your clit makes through the white cotton, probably becoming semi-transparent with every new caress. You could go crazy.

„Do what, whatever. Use your entire hand. I mean hands. Use both. Use all your fingers.“

Your moans are thrilled. And as desperate as you’ve been trying to hide. But he only seems spurred by it. That relief helps you loosen up at least a little more.

„I’ll try something, okay. Say how you like it.“

As if the tension on your clit is not enough, Baekhyun has the compelling idea to switch from his thumbs to using both index and middle finger to prod between your labia as if they were headed to penetrate you.

They push against your entrance carefully enough not to tear the cotton, but as proper as having the juicy, wet bit of skin around the opening feel his two fingertips going for their aim with a steadfast precision. They come in just below your urethra, almost sliding past underneath it, all over the fabric, right onto your hole. He knows exactly where to position them, and keeps his fingers locked and circling in the spot.

„Fuck. You’re too good at this. Push it.“

„Once or more?“

„Do it more. Do it as if you were fucking me.“

The hem of your panties gets pulled down briefly with every tug that results from Baekhyun dipping his two fingers forward. By not even half an inch, but you can feel it. The fabric dents inward where he stiffens his fingers and lets them sink into your pussy shallow, as much as the cotton allows.

In the meantime, the upper part of his left hand is preoccupied flat against your clit, making it swell up by giving a rhythmic pulse with a surprising consistency. You grit your teeth. His expression is as concentrated and adoring as always.

You realize that obviously — Baekhyun doesn’t have a dominant hand. Why would he. Left, right, they’re both able to do the exact same thing with the exact same agility and intensity. Or completely different things without influencing each other.

With the many possible scenarios popping up in your mind by knowing that, your legs open by themselves. Baekhyun keeps on patting your clit, but going much slower to drag out the arousal. He’s taking off some pressure, but softly continues.

Meanwhile, his right hand, still pointed right at your core, pokes through your panties swift enough to deepen their reach. Your pussy is all sticky against the cotton, with the blotch of the fabric getting large enough to seep down toward your ass. Before, the wetness had been thin and trickling, but now grows much more viscous and lubricating.

The resulting slick noises are making you feel more turned on than embarrassed. Baekhyun has somehow managed to make it sound more sexy than you thought it could be.

His eager, lowered brows moving along in the smallest arches with every dip only contribute to your legs drifting further apart. Although he is still kneeling as before, he’s hunching forward now. His eyes are stuck on you like magnets. Baekhyun is mesmerized. Either of your inner thighs can feel his breath. Your left thigh even gets a little tickle by his hair strands, right where you are sensitive.

„Baekhyun, ah shit—!”

It’s so hard to hold it together. With an erratic buck out of nowhere, your hips skew Baekhyun’s aim to the upward right. His fingers end up pressing right into your outer labia with the same momentum he just used on your entrance.

You gasp out. Before he can even apologize, you secure his hand right in the spot with your own.

How fast your reflex was rips Baekhyun’s eyes from your pussy and gives you a spike in adrenaline. His surprised face makes you strangely horny.

„No no, go on,“ you bring his fingers right into place. „Squeeze my lips. Please make them really swollen. I want them as red as the candy apples you saw at the fair. Make them so you’ll want to have a big juicy bite.“

„Oh, you can bet.“

The usually so light and sweet smile that Baekhyun carries so often becomes a lot darker, sexier now. His eyes are like two pieces of coal from underneath his bangs. There’s no doubt in his tone. He will execute everything you say to the last drop.

You can already tell what you got yourself into. Ambition is something that you can leave to him. You gave him enough food to chew and devour. Suddenly, Baekhyun’s pussy crazy face is something you want to provoke even more.

„Show me how much you love them. Don’t hold back.“

„I won’t.“

„Make it really filthy for me. Do it like worship.“

„Time for some lip service.“

Baekhyun’s left hand wanders down from your clit. Together with his right hand, it digs into the fabric of your panties to get hold of your labia. One between his thumb and index each, he gives a juicy squeeze to test them, gathering them up in their full fleshiness.

They’re too wet for Baekhyun to have enough grip on them if he just pinches them from either side. He has to use three fingers at once and even succeeds in pulling them forward just enough to have your clit enclosed behind them.

The crotch area of your panties is not wide enough to cover your lips like that. With Baekhyun massaging their inner edge with both of his thumbs, you soon have to deal with the soaked fabric no longer veiling the entire area. The craving in your voice almost takes you aback.

„Shove it to the middle, now. Let me feel your hands. Skin to skin. Do it.“

Baekhyun instantly complies. He centers and lines your panties across your clit that gets a bulky, rubbing coverage that way, all while exposing your bare lips on either side. The fabric stretches across your pussy almost like a thong. The unspoken wow on Baekhyun’s lips does not escape your attention. Nor does the way his tongue darts out. The way he brings his hands on your labia makes your body jerk and wind, twisting the towel underneath your back. His face is so much closer, both the warmth of his breath and the heat of the friction of his fingers makes your arousal pool into even more wetness.

„We’ll change this up,“ you say, catching Baekhyun fully alert.

„Tell me.“

You’re sweating. The idea that comes up in your mind is so many times dirtier than what you first thought while he was kissing you at the carousel — that you have to gather your breath several times.

„Tug here,“ you bring Baekhyun’s left hand to the front part of your underwear. „Pull it upwards. And press my lips together with one hand.“

Bringing up your panties this way leaves the middle line of fabric thinner, as well as tight and squeezing around your clit and labia minora. It slides between your ass cheeks and pulls against both of your holes at the same time.

That way, Baekhyun has an easier time squeezing the outer lips together quite firmly. They’ve become pink and red like ripe strawberries. Your pulse is racing like crazy.

How Baekhyun presses them with his fingers curling forward, your clit becomes even more closed in. Both the tightened up fabric digging into its sides as well as from the front, and the grip of Baekhyun’s right hand on your entire pussy leaves it attacked from all angles. The squeeze is strong and far too delicious.

„Fuck, so lewd, fuck!“

The arousal is like a luscious burn spreading. But it doesn’t sting or rub your clit enough to give it relief. You’re left in limbo, with your pussy lips growing plumper in Baekhyun’s never-tired, busy fingers. You want him to eat and slurp you up whole and stuff his mouth full, and have him trail his cotton candy tongue all over your big clit, but know very well that you’d come in seconds and probably pass out. Your legs twitch far too much already.

„Pause. I’m, I’m not gonna let you eat it for now. For now, Baekhyun. But you know how it would be like.“

Baekhyun stops. He very well knows.

„Your lips, they—“

You wish you had his cock between them and you know he knows, too.

„Need a good filling,“ you whisper to him. „A big one. Big and glazing and oozing.“

Pouring out as much as possible. You can picture it so well. Baekhyun hums right along.

„Yes, Y/N.“

„I can’t wait for much longer. You have something for me?“

„I have.“

Baekhyun’s fingers loosen carefully now. Slow, as not to give you the accidental push over the edge now that the pressure on your clit subsides and it becomes sensitive, easy to set off. Eventually, he is able to let go completely without triggering your orgasm. It leaves you throbbing and even hornier than before.

„Do you want to, or should I?“ he points toward the hem of his pants. You both end up smirking a little to yourselves. You know it’s your favorite part.

„Won’t be taking chances with this one,“ you breathe out, then scoot forward from your recline to hook your fingers at his abdomen. Time to inspect. It’s a welcome break to let your clit off the hook a bit. He’s even warmer than his wrists there.

You only realize that there’s no reason for him to wear boxers underneath when you’re already halfway nearing the spot that seems too bulged out for your own good. Way too bulged out. Shoving Baekhyun’s pants down to his knees entirely, you get to see that Mr. Kim’s engineers really did overwork themselves.

Just as you requested, this part of him has been left deliberately hybrid — the skin showing an actual silver-blue sheen from underneath. Inside, you see copper and titanium-plated ligaments and movable layers that intertwine like fish scales. Outside, a highly elastic blend of silicone and texture-giving material. It’s matte and a bit opaque, but still akin to actual veins being visible in how it’s sculpted.

Baekhyun’s subtle curve looks remarkably elegant. Almost mathematical. You could put his dick next to the Fibonacci Spiral and it would be uncanny.

Now with his trousers removed, you see how easily everything rises and expands even more. The layers inside his cock glide alongside each other seamlessly without the startling noise you expected them to make. Their sound is absolutely minimal.

„That’s the dick I wanted.“

„All for you, Miss. Try it out.“

Chapter 7: Custom Shapes

You can’t resist the urge to touch him, trace a finger across the right side. How easy to the eye the material appears is evenly matched by how soft and smooth his entire length is, peaking in a subtly formed tip with cascading angles. Neither too broad nor bulbous, nor with a protruding edge, promising an easy insertion and smooth thrusts. There’s a deliberate bit of foreskin adhering to it, closing the transition between tip and shaft in a harmonious way. You love his cock. But one thing you want to kick yourself for.

You’ve entirely overestimated yourself in terms of how many inches you want him to get like an idiot. Not to mention the girth.

It’s almost as big as your whole fist. He’s going to absolutely destroy you. You feel your hands starting to shake. The adrenaline drops into a panic.

„It’s too big, Baekhyun. I’m scared.“

„Y/N…“

„I’m really not used to this. It’s going to hurt me.“

Even before you finish speaking, he immediately shakes his head.

„No, no, I’m sorry if it comes across as that. I can make it squeeze more easily if you want. I can do that.“

„Can you?“

„That’s what the plates inside are for. You can try it out. Press it if you want.“

Calming yourself feels hard to do right now. But you follow his suggestion, giving the middle part a proper squeeze. First hesitant, but then, more firmly.

Kinetic memory, you remind yourself.

And he didn’t lie. Everything becomes a lot more malleable than you thought.

The little scale parts visibly rearrange. Where you apply pressure, and it’s still not much at this point, the girth recedes, and slowly bulges back out after you retreat your fingers again.

„So… okay. Okay. It does feel different. That’s working. But it’s still really huge…“

Baekhyun comes to assuage you with his voice now.

„I’m not going to rip you apart, okay. It also doesn’t expand back once I’m inside you.

„It doesn’t?“

„I can make it adapt to how you want it to be.“

The plating does look like it allows for a lot of flexibility. And decent elasticity for that matter. You soothe yourself by squeezing him again, watching the diameter contract inside your palm.

„That’s, that’s good news. And I thought I’d get impaled.“

„It has a metal core but it doesn’t necessarily stay the same,“ Baekhyun continues. „If you want to take it into your mouth, I can do that as well and make it smaller.“

„It’s what I’ve been thinking. I’d get lockjaw otherwise. You have one fat monster.“

Whatever you were thinking when you gave him almost an underarm worth of length on the website, something got the best of you — despite things being so predictable and his customization being entirely up to you.

„I hope I didn’t scare you too much.“

Baekhyun himself reaches down now to squeeze his cock next to your own hand until the copper layers contract. The firmer he does it, the more it adapts. It’s like he said. Maybe you can actually fit this. A big lump that’s been coiling up in your stomach slowly dissolves with that thought.

You also notice that Baekhyun is completely still even if you’re practically in a death grasp around his dick. Anybody else would be squealing and writhing. You again realize. He feels absolutely nothing.

It is all meant just for you.

You have to get that fact into your head. It’s all crafted for your enjoyment. Of course it’s not going to be some immovable way-too-large-dildo attached him. For the amount of money you paid, anyways. You could swear a third of your budget was used to give Baekhyun a high tech wonder wand.

„The good thing,“ he says, „about being made instead of born is that it can be three in one. I know why men easily envy pleasure models who are built in such a way.“

Wait a second. You perk up. What does that mean.

„Three in one… sizes?“

„Exactly,“ Baekhyun begins to recount. „Mister Park phrased it like this. A big girth to look at, medium size for penetration, and a shorter version for oral. Especially if you are concerned. You have a strong gag reflex.“

It’s hard to believe your ears right now.

„How—How did you—“

„While I was making breakfast. I looked into the freezer to see if we have pizza for lunch. And I saw your box with mixed brands of popsicles.“

„Oh…“

That box.

„The smaller ones are almost all gone.“

He must’ve looked at the back of the box where the types of ice cream are all listed.

„Yeah. The mini cones and such.“

And the sandwiches with three types of ice cream inside. Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry. Your favorites. But why would that even matter? You look at Baekhyun completely incredulous. What on earth was he getting at?

„But the elongated ones,“ he draws an approximate image into the air with his index, „that you have to squeeze out of a tube are untouched. It’s the type of ice cream that you have to wait to melt to rise up from the paper wrap. And when they do and you squeeze, it can shoot up suddenly. That can be uncomfortable to eat for some people. If you have a sensitive throat, you’ll avoid it.“

You feel caught for something you didn’t even commit. How could he make such an accurate conclusion based on what you didn’t eat? You already saw at the funfair how easily he could look up information about food on the spot. Maybe that’s exactly what he did. But still, he connected two seemingly unrelated things without breaking a sweat. He’s really learning fast.

„I’m dating Sherlock Holmes.“

The colorful breakfast fruit plate Baekhyun served up was too delicious to notice that he’d already inspected and organized every inch of your kitchen. Not to mention he was wearing one of your cute aprons with little dancing piglets and sheep on them which distracted you until the toast got cold.

„I’m not going to ignore the hints if they’re right in front of my eyes. Avoiding your discomfort is my first priority.“

You go figure.

„So… you can make it even more perky, then?“

„Not to an extreme degree. But molded to the width of your jaw and teeth,“ Baekhyun points at your chin. „So it will slide in and out very easily.“

„Oh, alright?“

You raise your brows. So it can actually change its shape even more than how he just showed you. You’re starting to like this.

„It’s not going to be painful or make you choke unless you push for it. But when I decrease the length, that shouldn’t happen anyway.“

It really does seem practical. Three in one. The perky version for oral. Why not, the best of all worlds. It’s an advantage of technology, as weird as it sounds.

You mentally send blessings to whoever in the testing department had the guts to brief the colleagues that the big girth version is more eye candy rather than recommended for use. You’d probably clamp up or scream the roof down if he fucked you like that. Let alone do deepthroat.

„Does this mean… you can make it an imprint that fits my mouth? Can I see it?“

He’s really making you curious. You’ve indicated a vague idea of something like that in the questionnaire, but never assumed that the engineers would bother making it into something complex. Up until now, you have to urge yourself to not underestimate how easily inspired they must have been. Somebody really went off.

„I can give you a short demonstration if you help me a little,“ Baekhyun reaches for the towel at the end of the bed, drying off his hands with gentle rubbing motions.

„Okay, just tell me.“

„All you have to do is take it in very slowly. And consistently. It will shape itself that way. I’ll have to give you a few pointers. Can I do that, you want to try this?“

„Sounds good.“

„You can always pinch here if you don’t want to anymore,“ Baekhyun indicates a spot at his right thigh that is just within reach.

„I got it. Just pinch,“ you repeat for yourself, and settle to get comfortable, push your hair out of your face.

At first, positioning yourself is a little difficult because you have to bend forward from your own seated position to reach his crotch, but you end up figuring it out without having to put strain on your foot.

Little by little, you guide in Baekhyun’s tip.

It immediately begins to waver and bend inside your mouth. Meanwhile, judging by the little nestling and a soft tug at the back of your head, Baekhyun has used the hair tie to pull your hair into a ponytail.

While you had immediately laid the tie aside after he returned from the bathroom and forgot about what it was supposed to do out of nervousness, he kept an eye on it.

Baekhyun is that motherfucker, you say to yourself. Let’s do this.

Given that the keyword seemed to be consistency, you remind yourself to keep going stably, keeping your lips loose around him. As if you were eating an ice cube, you avoid using your teeth like hell. You must look ridiculous opening up this wide.

„Don’t worry about scraping me once or twice, the silicone is sturdy,“ Baekhyun says, letting his right hand glide under your jaw. „Prop your chin on my palm. I show you how wide you have to open to make it comfortable.“

Whatever sturdiness there is supposed to be, all you feel is the slightly velvety surface of his cock’s underside lathering against your tongue. You would have thought it takes some lube to make it glide, but it’s not as painfully dry as you thought. Neutral it does taste, but it’s not a desert dry material.

With Baekhyun’s hand under your jaw, you get a better sense of opening up soon. He’s really touching you very gently.

„You feel how it re-forms itself, right. Is it okay like this?

„N—hm.“

„Keep sliding it in for just a little more. You’re doing great.“

Doing so is really surprisingly easy. Where you thought his dick would bump against, there’s basically nothing happening at all.

„Excuse me when I say that. You have a perfectly shaped mouth cave,“ Baekhyun smiles. „But I already know from kissing you.“

What must have sounded like the creepiest compliment in any other situation actually makes you hum and smile a little. You begin to understand just how seriously he seeks to map out your body. Nobody has ever truly bothered to do that.

In the meantime, you notice your nose approaching a dead stop at his loins and your lower lip pressing against what must be the most supple balls of all time. You’re sure that he didn’t make those shrink.

„They’re as big as they were before,“ Baekhyun confirms, vigilant eye he is. „The rest is already close to fully imprinted by now. I just need you to move your head back and forth a little. That helps me gauge how you angle it and what your lips tend to do. Add a bit of variation if you want.“

Doing just that proves to be more fun than you thought. You bop your head a little slower, a little faster. Shallow, then all the way to have your forehead meet his abdomen. It really is… easy?

His size has decreased significantly. You didn’t gag at all so far. Baekhyun doesn’t feel as if he’s just stuck there and ramming in. That you’ve already taken his entire length in so early makes you feel really accomplished, too.

While you move your head, you can feel his dick change a little on your tongue. You even let it slide in sidewards to poke into your cheek, then pull out to kiss the tip of his dick, making Baekhyun smile even more brightly.

„I see you’re good at this. And I really love your lips. They’re pretty.“

You inspect the very slicked up shaft before you with great interest. Without really going at it fully, you already really salivated a lot on it. But even more notable is the unusual shape it’s changed into. It’s assumed a downward curve and has dents where your tongue and teeth were located a second ago. The tip is also much more streamlined. It could probably reach down your throat a little more without having you coughing all over the place.

„The imprint is done, right? That looks really impressive.“

„As good as finished. I save that in my memory data. It can reform at any time you wish it to.“

So that’s part of kinetic learning, too, then — custom dick shapes.

„Mh, interesting. Thanks for doing this, Baek.“

You straighten from your former position and smile at him.

„I might use a similar shape if you ask me to do anal. Just slightly larger. I think I can fit into you very well overall.“

As if he couldn’t be any more adorable, he puts his thumb up with the most innocent face.

„Oh man. I’m so glad I got you, Baek.“

He’s very well read that your questionnaire had a clear preference when it comes to butt stuff.

„Thank you very much. If you want to do this often and get a little practice, I can even help you slide it down your esophagus a little more. I promise you won’t gag or get narrow.“

You don’t doubt it’s possible anymore. Who knows what other freaky templates he can bend into.

„This dick really is magic,“ you lick off some excess saliva from your lips.

„All it is is being designed so you can do whatever you want with it. Everything to your liking.“

You scratch your head.

„And I thought I’d get into trouble doing this.“

Lord knows every blowjob so far has landed you in making a scene or teary eyes. Especially if you tried to shove it down even if you couldn’t reach balls deep. Silly ambition again. And you thought you’d quit this all together.

„Just because you have a limit to depth,“ Baekhyun wipes a little thread of spit from your chin, „doesn’t mean you have to do away with your oral fixation. I really saw you having fun trying different techniques. And it looked like it was very pleasant stimulation for your tongue and saliva flow. If you want do this, you can always ask.“

You get a little flustered at him saying that. Not that he’s wrong. In any sense at all, actually.

„I think you’ll have to get ready to be in my throat a lot during the mornings. With my favorite cherry lube.“

Oh god. That is going to be… very slobbery and heated.

Nothing screams more ‚already am, come get your face fucked at 4:15AM I don’t care‘ than Baekhyun’s eyes right now.

„If you want something tasty before breakfast I’ll have no problems preparing that also.“

He does an invisible hat tip. So serving up fruit is not exclusive to the kitchen then. You find yourself getting euphoric.

„And… we will get to anal some time,“ you mumble under your breath. „Put some prep stuff on our online grocery list.“

„Yes, Ma’am. Just noted. I hope I can thrill you.“

As if you were getting into your car for the first time all over again, Baekhyun dons his best butler voice and you’re starting to fancy it.

„With that wonder boy you have in your pants, I’m thinking I met my match, you know.“

The type you wanna say I do to in a special ceremony separately.

„Precisely how it should be.“

„And, Baekhyun… With the special request idea. I don’t know how to say it. I want to extend this a little to oral as well. Maybe even today.“

„Will get back to it in about an hour.“

So he’s already calculated the route, then.

One hour sounds like a challenge to you, but at this point: You might as well trust what he’s got on his mind. He estimates you better than you do yourself anyway. You’re glad you didn’t move to penetration right away to begin with. Your pussy had enough time to calm down a bit. The swelling is still very much there, however. And your panties are nothing short of a mess. They’re basically sopping.

„As for going on now… I probably don’t have to tell you how wet I am,“ you take a deliberate look down your thighs.

„If you want to know my exact train of thought. I’ve already planned when I’ll wash your ruined underwear. 3:30PM.“

You have to giggle. The mere thought of that image. And he’s really taken over the household like a whirlwind.

It’s time you get to your part of the equation again. Mr. Kim’s imperative returns to you. Your turn to give Baekhyun some more input. With a dick like that, you can think of more instructions than you could list in one go. You build yourself up and place your hand just where you cupped his chin during your kiss on the fair.

„Then I plan you take them off — at now PM.“

You can almost hear a series of programmes running behind Baekhyun’s flickering eyes. Who knows what he is analyzing in his head again. Eventually, he flashes his cute little smile again and ushers you.

„Here?“ He questioningly points back to the center of the sofa where you started out, and you lie down right there.

Funny how much you sidetracked and moved around in the meantime.

Not thinking about transitioning into another position has made it much more effortless and nowhere near as awkward as you thought it would be.

And in hindsight, you were easily swayed into an unexpected intermezzo. Guess you love sucking his dick already. Which is just how Baekhyun offered it to you. All yours. Big and fat and bendy and perfect, morphing itself in whatever makes you hot. You want to shout it from the rooftops, right at all the Mister Lees of the world.

But upon second thought? Better not tell especially your nosy friends from work how hooked you are before they ask for more details.

Hwasa means well, but she would end up telling your damn boss by accident or something. Or Taemin, he would gossip about it on his twitter without name-dropping you, but everybody would know regardless. Meanwhile, Xiumin would make a vlog about „How To Perfectly Clean Your Flat“ and mention it in passing. Chen’s wife would watch it and tell Chen and Kai. Kai would absolutely tell Hyuna and Lisa. And Hyuna would absolutely tell Lay, and Lay would tell Kai, and by that time, the president would probably know.

Treasuring this all for yourself seems like the better thing to do. You want to protect Baekhyun even if he’s the last person on the block who probably needs it. Maybe it’s also a sense of protecting yourself. Maybe some of your friends wouldn’t be averse to getting a leisure bot themselves, but the rest of them still prized even their toxic partners as better than someone like Baekhyun, even if his kind had been part of the society for long enough.

You take note of making impromptu experiments like that for the future regardless.

By now, Baekhyun undresses you fully. Steady hands, steady eyes. Giving your legs a lusciously slow caress that gives you goosebumps. Pulling down your panties with a lot of deliberation, and giving you a good view of his cock. It’s shaping itself back and grows a little again, adding in girth and becoming less streamlined. It curves upward now, revealing a very plump and tight set of balls underneath. You’ve briefly felt them, but didn’t have the chance for a closer look. Now that you think about it, they’re even bigger than before. How it happened, you don’t know.

They seem to be pulsing and turning something white and silver metallic on the inside now. Making them appear… even larger. Two generous scoops of light pink seaside parlor ice cream. Discernable as a pair, but still perfectly one like a pillow. Not sagging very far down even if they seem to move around quite easily. They can probably slap and cushion against your clit if you go for doggy style with decent speed. The noises would be so nasty, you’d have to record it. You curse your foot for not permitting that anytime soon.

So— that thought will leave you high and dry for some time, then.

Makes that damn Achilles’ Heel getting his ever-loving shit together an even sweeter feat to look forward to, actually. So Baekhyun can really drive it home. You get kind of heated at that image in your mind. He is great at giving it to you from behind, you just know it. Now, everything he does well. But this one in particular. You get all sweaty with that idea again.

Baekhyun is still all the way preoccupied with pulling your panties past the knees, upbeat and kind in his expression. And calm, endlessly calm. Every movement, it’s all in perfect ease. You look like a jittery mess compared to him on your back right now.

„Shit, man,“ you bite down your lips after a desperate sigh. This couldn’t be any more tantalizing.

Chapter 8: The Bigger Picture

„Should I stop?“ his hands linger at your ankles, panties almost stripped off your legs. You can already feel the relief of not drowning in yourself anymore.

„No, I,“ you shift around on your back. How the hell do you explain this. „I wish I could stay calm like that, I’m not gonna lie to you. Sorry if I’m one of those bot envy people.“

No use in beating around the bush. He’d read it out of you anyways.

„And I wish I could shake as beautifully as you, you see.“

A comforting eye smile rises underneath his bangs. It gets a hold on you in a way that’s inexplicable.

Don’t you remember him with the cotton candy taste, you think. If anything, the envy is mutual. You’re pretty slow.

He’s trying his best to understand you.

You might want to start reciprocating that. Baekhyun can’t feel human happiness. But he can feel like he’s fulfilling his task. So help him with that, for God’s sake. Your part of the equation isn’t done after paying some money and taking him home or whatever. Being with a bot is more than that. He doesn’t have the needs of a human, but there are conditions that have to be met regardless.

„Point taken, Baekhyun.“

His cheesiness is cute. No use in not trying to tremble either, then. You can’t be him and he can’t be you. Might as well embrace yourself so he can work with it.

Baekhyun finishes the swipe of his movement and settles more closely, sitting on his heels just as before. You’re starting to think that it’s his signature posture.

„And I don’t mind if you envy me,“ he says, offering his hands for you to hold.

„You don’t?“

„There’s cold envy and there’s warm envy. It’s all about how much you like the person. You don’t hate me, right.“

„No, how would I? I really— like you.“

You close either hand around his.

„Then it’s warm envy,“ Baekhyun nods.

„I think… I understand.“

„And you need to know that I adore you also.“

A little squeeze of his hands accompanies his words. You’re caught off guard. All you can think of as a reply is a nod, unable to meet his eyes. You’re at a loss of words entirely. Here you go again.

Maybe the time has come that machines have a better grasp on emotions than humans. They have to teach it back to them.

You try to hide your embarrassment by a little stutter, but he’s already lowering his head down to you, again facing you close by. Close enough for you to see the light golden fuzz of his skin that actually almost seems silver under the artificial lighting of the room.

„So if you want me to do anything for you. Just do the same thing as before. You’ve done it well.“

„I don’t think so,“ you chew at your bottom lip, very well convinced that all you did was being a mess. Baekhyun must be seriously frustrated with this amount of all-too-human chaos.

„There are clients that take at least four to five trials to instruct their leisure models properly. You’ve already managed at first try, you see.“

Your jaw legitimately drops. Probably even lower than when you saw Baekhyun step out of the capsule.

„Five attempts?“

„Some send their bots back because they can’t get themselves to do it at all,“ he affirms. „But either way, those are likely the clients who’d rather apply to purchase automatic models in the first place.“

Automatic models.

You remember. Now you count one and one together — Mr. Kim talked about these bots. You never even realized. The ones seemingly everybody was ordering which drove the whole faculty staff into an endless scientific boredom.  

„Most client requests we get want some kind of he-man. They only spend twenty minutes customizing their bot on the website, if not less. Our engineers rarely get to equip a bot with so much pizzazz.“

In fact, these are the bots of a cheaper price range that run on the exact same automatism over and over for the lack of not having any other programming or sentience.

You don’t have to look no further than imagining that they work like a generic sex toy. They’re just in humanoid shape. A fruit plate for breakfast they can’t serve. They don’t have any interest in cotton candy either. The client can only switch them on for intercourse and enjoy maybe two or three default positions at best before their bot goes back to sleep again. They don’t talk freely, they don’t think, they don’t ask questions. They do their job, but they’re not…

Boyfriends.

You suddenly don’t regret spending forever at the PC to fill in forms and paying a lot more money to the faculty anymore.

„What? That’s insane. I never knew.“

How lucky you are to have Baekhyun is an overwhelming thought. If you’re entirely honest with yourself— it even gives you something that feels like butterflies. It’s strange.

„We non-automatic models can only do what we’re supposed to when we get asked.“

„Yeah.“

„Even most things a client requested in the past can’t be done again without a second permission. You have to instruct us in every new situation.“

„Yes, Mr. Kim really emphasized that.“

You feel better knowing that you have read between the lines correctly. Mr. Kim said a lot of things that sounded very complex and removed from daily life, but he managed to convey the most important thing about Baekhyun.

„I have always heard from Mr. Park that many female clients who give their bot back aren’t even the type of person who has troubles speaking their wishes. They don’t have any wishes at all. I think they’ve given up on themselves.“

He looks so downtrodden saying that. The image in your mind looks just as depressing. You want to curl yourself up.

„Wow. Wow, that… sounds scary.“

„Already by law, we can’t dictate them what we want as a replacement for their lacking preferences. Even if that is what they’re expecting. And then, they blame it on us if we stay passive during sex. It’s an unfair game.“

You can already picture how many cases like that must’ve happened.

Mr. Kim was absolutely right to let non-automatic bots decide over who they want to match with or not.

For way other reasons you had naïvely assumed. To be fair, you are still a beginner with this and AndroTech’s terms of service page was a jargon novel in font size 4, bearable as a skim at best.

„So it would even break the law,“ you find yourself even more startled. „To engage in acts that were not… requested on the spot?“

„Yes. But it’s not all clear-cut. Some bots are enabled and do try hard to read their client’s true wishes out of them, and they take the lead to get things started. Especially when a client is extremely nervous on the first day.“

„Oh…“

„You’ve seen me do it with you. How to touch you, whether I can drive and cook for you, how we relax before sleeping. You saw that I was forward with you to take the pressure off. I even picked you up without asking.“

„Yeah, I saw. I understand it now.“

Pretty much from the very first moment. Baekhyun probably knew you didn’t want to walk the corridors to the faculty exit the moment he looked at you. And he did take the lead, and asked about your every reaction hoping he anticipated exactly the right thing you didn’t dare voice.

„Which can be uncomfortable, but the client very clearly has something in mind and they end up saying it. But you can’t use coercion or skip that they say it.“

You give a small „M-hm“ in response and feel the guilt rush over your face.

„That shyness or shameful feeling at the start we can deal with. But in other cases, a person only wants the bot to tell them what to do. Which we’re not allowed to,“ Baekhyun’s voice shifts to a much graver tone. „We are the ones who adapt to the client. We don’t have a motivation to give orders, either.“

„Motivation?“

This keeps on getting more and more puzzling.

„If you can’t feel something, you can’t desire something. Take me— I don’t know what a sense of satisfaction is. And our base programming is to be of service. Even if we did something random that we saw fit just to give a command. It’d be illegal.“

At first, you wonder why the rule would not apply to the automatic he-man bots, but it was actually making sense. The client had decided on their limited programming. Switching them on was giving permission itself, and they could be turned off at any moment.

Meanwhile, a bot like Baekhyun had variation to his actions and was constantly running on AndroTech’s special power generator, lord knows what it did to run all day. Now, if any of his actions were against your will, or he did something without being asked: He would be taken away from you.

If he gave you a decisive order completely unprompted: His programming would be permanently deactivated almost on the spot, even. Bots trying to guess what their clients had on their mind were walking a tightrope.

„This is a much more serious thing than I thought.“

You puff out. Baekhyun gives a wholehearted nod.

„You can tell we have to be careful to find clients who know what they want.“

„I never thought of it that way. But yeah. I can see how the faculty gets into trouble otherwise.“

„Yes. It’s a huge problem.“

And you were as silly as assuming that bot abuse was the biggest issue in the industry. Turns out clients who want their leisure models to break the law are the real skeleton in the closet.

It’s starting to become a bigger picture to you. The repercussions are so much more expensive and damaging for the company image. A bot that an angry client kicked around was only a nuisance if repair was concerned. The whole thing was kind of bizarre.

„I’ll be very careful,“ you assure. „To fulfill my side of the contract.“

„Y/N. You are the last person who’d concern me. I have been sure from the start that you are the ideal person to be with. It’s why I agreed so fast to Mr. Kim’s question whether I want to match up or not. Most bots will ask Mr. Kim to postpone that question so they can gauge their client in a testing period.“

„They… do?“

„Yes.“

„But I already made a mistake,“ you say, remembering how you started out today. „I don’t think I’m ideal or something like that.“

Baekhyun’s following blink is more than knowing.

„That you question yourself tells me you’re a good client. Bad clients don’t self-reflect.“

Maybe you’ve done at least that right.

„I see?“

„You might become reserved or berate yourself sometimes. But that you wrote down 280 specifics for Mr. Kim tells me everything. Once the nervousness dissolves, you do the right thing already and I see your nature. You wish for a lot of things. That makes you ideal to me. I can take care of this one thing at a time.“

He plants a brief, but passionate kiss on the back of your left hand. The cheesy motherfucker got you again.

„Baekhyun, I…“

„That gives me a lot to work with. I hope you look forward to all this. We’ll spend many great nights.“

His charming little smile and dark eyes are as encouraging as ever. Thinking about the many options of 280 makes you giddy already.

„I do. And… I really want to see how the Special Request feels like.“

Your legs are like squirming jelly at this point. Very much unlike Baekhyun who’s stable and resting — in promise of great stamina.

„I’m ready if you are. I’m sorry if my talking delayed this. But I think some last few questions had to get out of the way. As for the request: There’s not much I need to prepare for it.“

Chapter 9: You Look Really Beautiful

„We’ll be starting with… you know. Lower medium size?“

You shift in the sheets, stuttering that out like a pre-schooler, but who the hell cares at this point. It’s not like you didn’t invent all of this.

„All as you want it,“ says Baekhyun with just the right touch of yielding in his tone. How he makes this sound so impeccably polite is a mystery.

„This is really easy to insert,“ he continues, giving a light caress against your cheek. You don’t miss just how much it is meant to be an encouraging touch. Your face feels tingly.

„Okay, let’s give it a shot, then.“

While Baekhyun reshapes the plates, you recline with your knees pulled toward your torso, making sure to place your wonky foot in an unobtrusive way. So far, it’s only complained while you were climbing around trying to find a position to suck Baekhyun off. Sweet baby Jesus. If your heel would ruin your first time, you’d curse your clumsiness forever and sign up at AndroTech to get your legs android-ized if that were even possible.

You’d probably make a good cyborg now that you think about it. With your new steel-inforced feet and knee caps, you’d be one robot step closer to blowing and riding Baekhyun to infinity until his dick needs repair, which you… already plan to do anyways.

„Can you stimulate me like before, please. Just by using your cock now. I’m so horny for it.“

„Of course.“

Baekhyun glides the tip up and down your outer and inner labia alternatingly, then lets it rub all over your clit. Which happens so smoothly. You’re more than wet. He’s drenched you so hard.

Shit.

It doesn’t take many prods until your arousal returns at its fullest, and Baekhyun strikes a complimenting tone in the middle of letting the underside of his shaft tap against the swelling rose bud.

„Your pussy is really pretty. It’s like pink clouds to me.“

He makes a little innocent face. He’s too adorable. Still, you swallow. So it’s time to bring the funfair to this sofa, then, is it.

„I really— want you to stretch it nicely,“ you grab hold of his cock. „So that the filling can seep in really far. I want a lot of it. And after you filled me, you make me cum.“

„I will, Y/N. I prepared a lot for you,“ he nods. „And it’s enriched with pheromones.“

Pheromones.

So the faculty did find ways to flavor things. Realizing that, you already feel twice as horny as before.

„Shit, it’s gonna smell so good. Put it in, put it in… I want to know how it feels.“

You fumble with his tip at your entrance, and Baekhyun lifts his hips accordingly. It slides in for an inch, giving your entrance an idea of the diameter so far.

While you first squeezed his dick in your hand, the surface felt very matte. Now, with Baekhyun carefully securing his cock between the soft embrace of your lips, it makes for a great sensation of grip and stretch paired with how wet you are. His medium girth is really not bad at all even if it’s downsized. In fact, it’s pushing at your entrance in the juiciest way. With no panties in between anymore. You realize that it’s really about to go down.

„Baekhyun, oh god. Oh god. It’s good. Put your hands around my waist.“

He swiftly does, no second wasted. His fingers, his palms, his wrists— are so soft. You notice that his right hand sits significantly lower than the left one, pretty much on the hip bone. You already want to ask him to move it upwards that you realize he’s seen the scar from your appendix surgery and avoided putting his hand on it.

„Do you want me to slide in more along the way?“

„Yes, more.“

You can tell that Baekhyun knows the exact angle to glide into you. With his hands suavely placed on you now, he adjusts your pelvis without needing leverage. The sheer given shape of his palms has your body melt into the right posture. Eventually, his cock tip makes its way down your walls, bulging them apart. Baekhyun’s length gliding into you has you feel the entirety of his shaft pushing in with a proper thickness. A perfect languid strain, making your pussy feel amazingly filled and bursting with veiny, girthy cock.

„Fuck. Please use your fingers, Baekhyun,“ you gasp out, feel your lungs contract. „And kiss me all over.“

He keeps on sliding in. Leaves little kisses on your nose and sweat-glazed collar bones, breasts, neck. His plush little lips make pecking noises that sound all the way dirtier when he turns them into desperate moans. Baekhyun sure knows how to push your buttons. You’re about to go nuts entirely.

One hand leaving your waist, he adds a consistent stroke at your clit until he surprises you with slowly hitting balls deep.

Already?

„I’m in. How does it feel?“

It really is good to insert.

The heat from your clit mixes with the satisfaction of Baekhyun now being fully curved inside you. He was so much easier to take than you were afraid of.

„It’s amazing to me.“

A squeeze from your muscles comfortably locks Baekhyun, who gently lowers his posture above you, in the spot. Just enough for you to let your fingertips ghost over the center of his abs. His body is so warm, almost heated.

Then, you reach for his face and kiss him deeply. His tongue immediately picks up your pacing, swirls around yours in an intricate dance. The passion overflows. You want so much more.

„Start thrusting. Stimulate me.“

Accompanied with a faster flick of his fingers on your clit, Baekhyun lets his cock pulse in and out of you without removing much of its length. The inward tug at your walls pushes your womb along with it. Baekhyun’s width is just right in spreading your pussy apart, and how he gets you off brings more slickness to each thrust. You feel yourself getting really swollen up and bubbling wet, even more than before.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

„Make it grow a little,“ you push the words past your tense jaw. „And then give me the first special request.“

Again, he doesn’t hesitate. The sudden growth spurt takes a bit off the speed out of Baekhyun’s plunge, but soon increases again. It’s because his cock has started to leak inside, pouring more and more lubrication around itself.

„Is that good?“

His thrusts make the velvety liquid surface at the base of his cock. Very slowly, but surely. He’s fucking it out of you so well. Almost instantly, the smell is intoxicating. A hefty concoction of vanilla, fruit, and something very sharp and musky layered over it. A very masculine and upbeat spice that is like an electric current. The liquid keeps oozing from your entrance with every thrust, bringing more of the scent to live.

„Fuck. Please more. That’s so good. Hold me when I buck up, Baekhyun!“

The special request is nothing but a liquid mechanism that lets Baekhyun pump you full of milky white pre-cum. Whenever you want, mid-fuck at full speed, or as a quick filling without much prep. With a big load or just a little portion as lube, anything goes. Baekhyun has to refill the material with special cartilages every now and then, but it’s compressed like the foam of a whipped cream bottle. Just a lot more fluid. And way, way too loaded with artificial pheromones for your brain to handle. Your pussy explodes with oozing pre-cum and the tension of pleasure alike. You really can’t handle it. Still dizzy from the kiss, your tongue is all loose and erratic anyway.

„Not, ah—! To ask for something I can’t handle for the twentieth time or something! Fucking shit!“

You take a deep breath. Even a fast look between your thighs has you clenching. Everything is so creamy. And sticky. And milky. All with his cock buried right in the soaking middle of it. Baekhyun really gave you a full-on A class preview for the special request.

„Ask away. Even if it’s unrealistic. I make things feasible. That’s my job if anything,“ he looks more friendly than ever at you. Mr. Kim couldn’t sport a smile any better. Jesus Christ, he’s patient with you.

„I think I got some greed but, uh.“

„No worries. I can work with that. Greedy girls are the best girls.“

„Can you just, cockwarm me and give me another load. With the— bigger… version. If that doesn’t get me to the ER. I just want to try it for a minute or two even if it’s too big. You probably know if I’m built to do that better than me though.“

By the knowing look he gives you, Baekhyun indeed does.

„That works, I already calculated that. You’re stretched enough. If we don’t do it for long and I’m not moving, you’ll just feel really stuffed and full.“

„Exactly what I’m wanting,“ you blurt, and your eyes grow all the more impatient.

„Okay. I’ll be holding your legs up a little more for that if it’s alright. Just keep your ankle very relaxed.“

„M-hm!“

By doing that, you realize he changes how you angle yourself at him. You mentally prepare yourself, and already feel him expand inside. That pushes even more of the scented fluid out of your pussy, spreading over his cock. The smell of vanilla and grapefruit, whatever it is, becomes even stronger. Everything pools and drips from his expanding shaft in sticky threads that you want all over you, and in his mouth, his face, everywhere. Your poor pussy is nothing but a lake at this point.

„I’m gonna burst with this inside of me.“

And he really is monstrously big in his full form.

„Almost there. Does it feel okay?“

It grows and grows. Becomes veinier and all slick, bathed in scent and your own pussy creaming it up.

„Shit… that thing is like a spear! Fuck! Keep it, keep it up—!“

He keeps on growing. The stretch of your walls is driving you wild. You can’t even put a proper grip on him with your muscles at this point. All there is — a bulging sensation of your pussy getting filled out all around. It does make you feel tensed up. Even if the surface of his cock feels only a bit elastic, the diameter is too wide at this point.

„It’s a bit uncomfortable if you focus too much there with your muscles,“ Baekhyun says. „Look at my hands.“

Baekhyun circles into your clit with his index. It mixes relief into the stretch. And more pulsing excitement. Just a light caress wouldn’t do it at this point. He knows he has to rub a little faster.

„You’re all… stuck there,“ is all you can moan. He’s grown sufficiently to let your sensitive entrance feel like it’s going to burn up in flames. In its normal state, there’s no way he would get past it in his large size. You don’t even know just how far up he is inside you. If he’d thrust now, your guts would be as ruined as your panties. The flaring sensation of him spreading all inside you is all that you can think of. You’re starting to think you must’ve developed a cock addiction because of those pheromones, the thought of him not being inside of you all day like this sounds terrible.

Now that he’s entirely erect and stiffened, you can tell his dick has exactly the inner metallic strength you thought it had. He’s pretty heavy inside you. You get a buzzing in your head and accidentally shift your hips a little. The feeling that follows makes you gasp.

„That, that’s hitting something. Oh my god. It’s pressing me. Oh my god. What is that, Baekhyun!“

„Your cervix.“

„That’s deep in. Holy shit.“

„It’s really big and puffy. My sensors are liking it.“

So that’s where he is, then. Buried right there. Hitting the spot.

“Hold it there, Baekhyun. It feels so unusual! Please press it a little more.“

Baekhyun shifts his hips himself, causing you to feel the same bump again. It makes your body jerk and takes you by surprise once more.

„I think it likes kissing my tip the way you do with your lips.“

Either you’re imagining things, or Baekhyun actually sounds a bit accomplished.

„What! Does it react?“

„It’s getting increased blood flow and expands around me. If you want, I can rest a little deeper with my tip at the hole in the middle.“

The idea is so filthy knowing he could shoot you up with more pre-cum any second. All of it would spritz deep inside of you, almost the deepest way possible. You picture Baekhyun mixing up a huge load for you, only to pump it all the way through his immense length.

„Please, please do that, please. Push against it.“

„I’ll have to be really careful.“

„Come on, Baekhyun,“ you firmly grip at his hips to pull them down. „Beat my pussy up. It’s deep enough. Give me the whole length.“

That this means going balls deep entirely is making your legs do funny things.

Baekhyun, squeezing in the last inch, finally makes you feel like he’s splitting you apart. From your legs up to your neck, you can feel the strain. Your pussy can barely take it. It doesn’t know whether to fall apart or to tense up. That Baekhyun’s cock tip ever so slowly pushes, then penetrates into your cervix and stays there, neither opening it fully nor just resting loosely against it, sends you all sorts of arousing signals.

„You’re stretching so well. See how amazing your labia look now.“

The sensation of Baekhyun has distracted you entirely from just about anything else. A quick glance tells you it does just look like that. Your muscles are too pushed apart to grasp his dick, but your pussy lips do that job for you. They’re finally getting their right stretch. Plush, and wet, and wide apart, they hug Baekhyun as if trying to pull him in. It’s as if they’re sucking and gargling his cock and spilling saliva everywhere. They’ve grown amazingly plump and red. Two cock-hungry, endlessly greedy girls just for Baekhyun.

„How do you feel? Describe it to me.“

„I’m feeling so, I can’t, fucking crazy! It’s prodding a spot that’s really far up. Oh God. It’s so big. You… fuck… oh— You—!“

„You can call me any dirty names you want,“ Baekhyun lowers his voice. It sounds so naughty and provoking when he does that. „You know that I’m down to be a huge whore.“

The plain sneering delight in his eyes is so intense that your pussy starts to pulsate. That lewd and yearning Baekhyun hiding underneath the cute smexy smile has ambushed you again.

„Give me that slutty look on your face and stroke my belly. Show it. Moan. If you wanna be a whore, do it properly.“

„It’s really bulging out here, Y/N…“

He whimpers, traces his palm across your abdomen, quick to find the spot. It does form a bit of a bump. Even from your position, it’s quite visible.

„Yeah… Look, you did this.“

„Your pussy is so perfect on the inside, too. Really pink and juicy.“

That his tip is currently making cockwarming love to your cervix you can very well feel. The two of them are already headed to be on a familiar basis with each other. You want Baekhyun to smash and jizz it every fucking night.

„If you have some more cum, now’s the moment, Baek. Pound it.“

„One second,“ he jerks at the base, briefly having his right hand leave your waist. You grip at the nape of his neck to pull his face down. You lock lips, and they are so mesmerizing while Baekhyun makes sure to find a nice angle.

With a loud moan into his mouth, you can feel him stuffing your pussy with a shot of rich fluid. The accompanying thrust is strong, steep, and throbbing. It makes you want to mount Baekhyun and fiercely bounce on his dick until cumming all over it, way until collapsing. His cock reaches far enough through the opening of your cervix to fill your womb with its creamy load. The liquid drips against the upper area until it spreads out and leaks down into your vagina. A lake of his semen now pools back and forth inside your spongy uterus, Baekhyun’s cock stirring it with its light pulses and movements. He’s not thrusting, but making sure to keep his dick swaying and prodding just enough to ease your tensions.

„Another load,“ you part from his lips, craving. „Really make it to the brim. Move it once. Push it in… So good, Baekhyun…“

„Okay,“ he hums, and kisses you again, this time making gentle contact with your lips. „I’ll make it really warm and thick.“

„God, yes…“

„Here, are you ready?“

„Fill me.“

Baekhyun’s fat cock delivers a juicy stab, fucking the meaty, veiny width under the tip right into your cervix. Hard and quick, making your toes shiver. The blow pounds and heavily stretches it apart under your deep guttural moans. He’s really deepening his cock almost to the max, and you can feel how stiff and girthy he’s made it become. 

The first pre-cum load allows for a perfect glide already. The plunge is so good. Your cervix now faithfully grips at his shaft, fully lubricated and anticipating, swelling up, greedily throbbing around him so fast. It pulls his cock in the way you want to deepthroat Baekhyun. You repeat and repeat his name.

Finally, a second spurt comes to seep right into you like a waterfall. Baekhyun floods your pussy entirely without holding back. A gushing injection of white streaks and pearls comes to permeate you so deliciously that your heart skips a beat. The spill is much less fluid this time, but runny just like freshly whipped coconut cream, fanning out into little melted clouds. He’s shot what you imagine as more than the amount of a small glass of water into you. You are creamed up to the last millimeter. If he was fertile, you’d be pregnant with a cute little Baek baby in two seconds, and give birth only three minutes later.

„I love it!“

Your pussy walls loosen around him. Even if it means saying goodbye to your filling, now you wanna see how his semen looks like.

„Rest your hand there while you’re pulling out,“ you guide your had toward your abdomen. „You’re gonna tell me the difference.“

With Baekhyun slowly drawing out his cock and letting the vacuum suck the fluid downward, you become giddy. Your cervix refuses to close and instead stays pulsing open, letting all that he filled you with drip out. It’s a pal size puddle. Baekhyun’s dick looks so gigantic and coated now that he pulled out. You can’t believe all of that was inside of you.

„I really hate to leave you feeling empty,“ he says, and massages your belly very attentively.

„I wish your cum could stay inside all day. It’s so warm. I really miss your cock, too. Shit, Baekhyun.“

After some waiting time, his last bits of semen makes its way down. Your pussy gapes enough to let it squeeze out. It’s so thick and white, completely opaque. How good it smells you only register when you’re already hanging at Baekhyun’s lips again. The scent drives you to kiss him again and again, having your hands all over his body, praising him with your moans. He yields into your wild hug and the making out continues until your creampie no longer flows out. Half of your pussy is full of sticky semen still, warming you from the inside. Between your heavy breaths, you realize that Baekhyun’s laser gaze on you have even more craving than before.

„And this is not even the main event,“ he rasps into your ear. „We’re still headed towards the most important thing.“

You shake. His dark eyes set on you like a panther’s. He’s readier than ever. This goddamn robot stamina. Now he wants to fuck you up entirely.

„Make me cum… really hard, Baekhyun.“

„I’ll have you moaning and arching. Tell me what to do.“

„Remember I talked about some Special Request mixed with oral?“

„Very clearly,“ he nods, helping you get up from your back. „I got you.“

„Leave it at big as it is now. Not the full growth but almost there. Really give me a lot of cum, okay. Empty yourself into my throat. You can also fuck my mouth but keep it shallow. You can hold my head later on.“

„All as you like. Here,“ Baekhyun helps you guide the shaft between your expectant lips.

You suck at the tip, but your mouth doesn’t get very far down. The difference to Baekhyun’s smaller, adapted version is extreme to see, to touch, and taste. While you gobble the far end, a generous spurt of cum shoots into your throat already. It pools on your tongue before you swallow three times.

It tastes mild and sweet.

Maybe you’ve been eating too much cotton candy as of recently, but it does bear some resemblance to it. You shake the girth from one side of your mouth to the other, signalling Baekhyun to fill you again. More cum begins to appear, then burst at the roof of your mouth, and you don’t manage to hold in all of it. Thank God the towel is thick enough.

All the jizz expands on your tongue and you swallow faster, with Baekhyun leaking more of his cock milk. You decide to have some fun thrusting your head forward and have the whole thing explode against his loins and your lower face. With Baekhyun’s dick plunging into you deeper, the remaining cum flows past your lips and lands between either of your legs on the towel.

No wonder his balls do their pulsating thing. He has to keep up mixing and pumping everything out. His cock is now so perfectly slippery that you can glide your tongue around it in fast circles. The faster you go, the more his foreskin retracts, revealing the beautiful sturdy glans that provides you with another milky shot against the back of your throat. The mixture is smooth, allowing for an easy big swallow. For some reason, it’s almost like almond milk conditioner diluted with a bit of water.

Baekhyun adding little thrusts to each leaking makes you moan like a pervert. You suck and lick up every incoming bit of fluid properly until gulping it down. At this point, your entire stomach is a sea of white cream. Your mouth feels like it’s drowning in baby lotion, but without the obnoxious taste. Even now, you’re still not tired of bopping your head and blowing bubbles with the amounts of his sperm that gather around the middle of his cock. The more you get into the rhythm of moving your head, the more heated and loud you get.

Puckering your lips adds the right pressure, and you keep your jaw as wide a Baekhyun showed you earlier. The slicking, slurping and glucking noise of the suction is music to your ears. Him spilling out more liquid helps you glaze his length with warm icing now, and your speed is surprisingly high in doing so. You end up sinking your fingertips into Baekhyun’s shapely ass cheeks and hold onto his body like that while blowing him. You feel they are toned and soft at the same time, even more heavenly when you use your entire palms to hold them.

„Great, you’re doing great,“ Baekhyun wipes off a blotch of cum from his belly and lathers his cock up with it, careful not to disturb your mouth at work. „Do whatever comes to your mind.“

As if that praise was not enough, another rewarding fountain fizzes into your mouth. The vacuum from your tight lips resounds almost like a kissing noise. With another moan upcoming, you blurt out the majority of Baekhyun’s load. This time, his legs are the victim of your slobber, getting their first contact with his cum in dripping white stripes. It looks so hot. Looking at his ruined thighs with your saliva and milk on them makes your pussy throb several times.

In the meantime, your lips are left perfectly coated and big, clinging to the veiny surface slightly below Baekhyun’s tip. Especially your lower lip has gotten much plumper and picks up every relief on his dick. You love the sound of him thrusting in his shaft that is met with a little lake of cum at the farther end of your tongue. The more elegantly he helps you plunge in the tip, the better it stirs the fluid and leaves a nice caress at the top of your mouth and the inner corners of your lips. The taste is breathtaking. After swallowing for the seventh time now, you pop his dick from your mouth and distribute the remaining cum on your cheeks and temples by sliding his length all over your skin.

„That feels so good,“ you pat his cock all over your cheekbones, your forehead and the bridge of your nose. You even glide the tip of his cock against your browbone, tracing its lining and have a few little droplets of Baekhyun’s delicious milk dance stuck in your lashes. The fluid leaves your face feel cooled and soft. The matte silicone surface of his length is perfect enough to slowly glide under the guidance of your hand, massaging your face gently and slick.

And then, you get an idea.

„Hold your cock up for me. Maybe make it curve up a little,“ you instruct, take a few breaths to cool down. When Baekhyun is ready, you slide your right hand between your legs and head your mouth for his balls at the same time.

They really are like scoops of ice cream. Enough milk has distributed over them to make your attention of kisses, licks, feathery light bites and sucking very easy. Everything glides, and you love how they vibrate ever so slightly.

„Tell me I will feel this against my clit as often as possible, Baekhyun.“

„Every day if you want. I can make them buzz a little more than that as well. That goes for my cock, too.“

„What— Really! Please do it! And please, more cum…“

And they do. It must be the weirdest thing your lips and the tip of your nose have felt, ever. A million dancing ants start their party on your skin. Alternating between left and right, you give your mouth a proper ice cream feeding. Baekhyun’s cock vibrates along and produces another waterfall of sperm.

While you let the buzzing ripen up your lips with even more swelling, drops upon drops of cum add from above where Baekhyun holds his cock in an almost vertical position. Since its curve bends toward his stomach, that’s where more of his cum lands. You love to observe the milk trickle over the little veins of his loins, his lightly toned abs, and the perfect V shape of his pelvis. With every drop, you rub your clit to new heights and feel it become spongy. You’re so sensitive and wet that it’s harder to get your finger to the right spot, so you end up using three fingers at once.

Baekhyun glazing himself with all that luscious cum makes you want to lick him up whole. On the other hand, his oozing cock spills so much fluid that you don’t want any of it go to waste.

With the flicks of your index finger speeding up between your legs, you ask Baekhyun to stuff and thrust his cock back onto your tongue and provide you with a final wave of cum for good. He dusts over your lashes to remove the spray they took before, then diligently brings his palms around the back of your head. Baekhyun is so utterly careful and sensual in his expression that you have to groan and feel your pussy twitch. His pretty fingers fit so perfectly around the area under your high ponytail. Having his wrists ghost over your temples makes you want to come on the spot. Now that your head is softly locked safe, Baekhyun asks if he can start, earning the most eager nod.

„I won’t make you gag, I promise,“ he gives his fingers a final arrangement, laying flat on your hair.

You feel like you’re about to implode and already drive your head forward. Aided by the slip of your mouth, he pulls you onto his cock, driving in a bit more length. About a third of his cock gets in, and you feel only a slight bit of tension. Your lips close around him, but remain flexible, still. Your hand between your legs rubs faster. And faster. Your clit is begging for a second rush. By the time, your jaw has become perfectly loose and receptive, ready to take a pounding. You moan in frustration from all the suspense, and finally he begins fucking his monster dick into your skull. 

The girth stretches your lips and leaves your mouth completely stunned. Baekhyun properly angles himself into your head and showers you with complimenting little wows, then continues the speed and screwing until half of his dick pumps into your mouth. It’s pushing in and stimulates your lips with every thrust. The buzz is amazing. 

Your throat is perfectly accepting of Baekhyun’s tip. The vibrating stimulation at your tonsils sends excitement through your entire body. His cock is amazingly big, hot, and jittery. When he drills it into you with a little ‚your mouth… so soft… like cotton candy…’ under his breath, you can’t take it anymore.

When your rubs escalate and your pussy begins to contract, he blows up your mouth with an avalanche of extra sticky and flavorful cream. Unlike when he was pumping out the cum against his belly, his cock now powerfully empties in one go and overwhelms your tongue with taste. 

The portion is so huge and almost foamy. Now you’re filled double. Your leaking pussy, stuffed with his bubbling semen, and your mouth, rich with the potent vanilla taste. Your clit thumps hard with a series of twitches, about ten, eleven, twelve times, with another strong rub from your middle finger pushing it over the edge.

The load of cum bursting into your mouth is so large that your cheeks slowly bulge out a bit. Baekhyun holds his cock in place to help you keep it centered. A look at his hands alone is enough to fasten your rubs and make you feel your climax peak. Your eyes get large from the extremity of pleasure surging from your clit, having your body rock, making you yelp out and spill Baekhyun’s semen back over the pulsing curve of his dick. It’s so messy, but you don’t care.

He takes the opportunity to thrust back into your mouth in sync with the twitches of your pussy, blasting your way too impatient esophagus with more sputtering threads of hot milk. Your clit throbs even harder when you hear the wet noises your throat makes. Every thrust has you blowing out cum with stifled, slobbery gargling. Baekhyun penetrates you so well and won’t waste a milliliter of cum. It’s so thick and so good, and distributes so nicely every time he fucks it into your throat a little further. The vibration of his cock makes your tongue so swollen against the underside of his shaft and even more sensitive to how his cum feels.

Liquid satin, gliding so well down into your stomach that you wish he could penetrate, too. You slurp and gobble the last shots of cum, and enjoy Baekhyun’s thrusts feeding you his fully sperm-decorated cock. With your saliva flowing into the mix, the load gets perfectly blended and has you produce the nastiest sounds around the meaty base of his dick. You want to lap it all up, slather it all over you, bathe in it. He drenches your mouth completely. You swallow and swallow until he knows you’re feeling full and stops the flow.

You still try to suck the leftover liquid out of him until only drops remain on your tongue. A final swallow, and you lock eyes with Baekhyun who’s gently smiling and cupping your head.

„B—woah,“ you gush out, slipping your lips off his dick. You look down on your body and Baekhyun’s, finding your skins coated all sticky as if a pot of joghurt spilled all over your chests and legs.

The special request indeed leaves nothing left to be desired.

„Really incredible,“ Baekhyun says.

„Warm…,“ you lick your lips, and shake, move your tongue about to loosen it up. „And so much— Fuck!“

„Not a drop left. I’ll probably need half an hour to gather an amount like that again.“

„I want this all the time. This, this is so much fun.“

„Yes. You were really enjoying yourself. You look really beautiful.“

Probably really messy and funny with your drying lips and tousled ponytail. You have to chuckle.

„Brace yourself, Baekhyun. I hope you have enough hair ties prepared.“

Oh, it’s gonna be a ride.

After you settle your breath, Baekhyun goes about cleaning your face and neck, and bits of your chest. He has to get a third towel from the bathroom to get the job done, including rubbing himself down. As ruined as he looks, AndroTech has to send him into the fucking robo deep cleaning room or something if you keep this up.

Eventually, Baekhyun helps you up the same way he put you down on the sheets two hours ago. You coo to him, and he carries you to the bedroom softly humming. You feel a strange serenity. Protection. Baekhyun looks so sweet and calm. A warm feeling spreads across your abdomen, and you listen to your blood rush in your ears. He really got you going,. He offers a glass of water that you accept and nip at while he sorts his and your clothes, dumping all the towels into the laundry basket and switching off the living room lights afterwards.

Alongside carrying a paddle hair brush, he returns with your favorite strawberry bubblegum chapstick. He must have picked it up next to the washing machine in the bathroom. You keep a little shell-shaped metal bowl next to the basin where all your cosmetics are scattered in. How he knows that it’s your go-to lip product will remain another mystery, although you are sure he has a page-long analysis on it. 

After asking for your permission, Baekhyun applies it for you and makes sure to kiss you not once, but twice. He loosens the tie out of your hair and goes about brushing it, smoothing it. Lying down in your bed for the afterglow with the fairy lights on gets even better when Baekhyun offers his chest to lean against for dozing off.

Chapter 10: Pulling Out The Carrots

You wake up to the smell of waffles and cocoa coming from the kitchen. You sit up in bed. Feeling more gloriously fucked out than fucked up, actually. The floor, even if it’s still the exact same as before, feels different when you set your either foot on the ground. It’s not only your heel feeling at least a little better. It’s also the fact that it’s the ground of an apartment with two people in it.

Bothering to put on socks, you find that your closet has a new stack of clothes where Baekhyun normally sorts in his white vest. So Mr. Kim sent a new batch of attire for him as promised in the email you received last night. Seven sets of midnight blue, carnelian, and more white cuts of similar fabrics and varying shapes. Your closet looks strangely complemented with his clothes in it. Not to mention much tidier since he folded each and every piece.

Before you waddle to the bathroom, you check your phone and see an avalanche of shy emojis from Hwasa in your notifications. You did manage to send a little comment on the sofa before you went to bed.

„Guess whose car is fixed,“ Baekhyun sets a plate on the table. The whole kitchen sizzles and looks as if a restaurant chef just let a huge cloud of steam loose from his souffle in the oven. There’s juice, there’s blueberries, there’s syrup on the table. His smile is even brighter than it was yesterday.

„You gem!“

Falling around his neck makes Baekhyun laugh. You cling in the hug and pepper his forehead with kisses until the waffle machine bleeps.

„Dig in, princess,“ he stacks up three waffles on the plate, golden brown and drizzled with syrup.

„Sit down with me when the last one is done,“ you fork the top waffle, separating it into five hearts each. Crispy outside, vanilla-colored and juicy on the inside. Back in the day when he was still active, Gordon Ramsey couldn’t have done it any better. Baekhyun nods, now busy with a large blue bowl. He’s kept his smile and hums a little. The kitchen radio is playing in the background.

„And something else,“ he swipes the wooden spoon through the bowl. You realize what’s inside. He steps toward the table to masterfully place a generous amount of whipped cream on your stack of waffles.

„What was it?“

„I talked to Mister Lee.“

„You what?!“

With a clattering noise, your fork drops right back onto the plate. If the sweet scent in the kitchen didn’t fully wake you, then this definitely did.

„I first checked the databank as I said,“ Baekhyun puts down the bowl on the table and takes a seat opposite to you. „There was no record of him interacting with androids anywhere. He didn’t own one, nor did anyone else in his social environment or the area around here. Except you of course.“

„A—alright, and?“

Judging by Baekhyun’s picture-perfect appearance that doesn’t seem to sport a single scratch, at least Mr. Lee didn’t get out his golfing equipment then.

„I went over and met him on the porch while he was having his coffee. I introduced myself and asked about his garden.“

„His garden?“

„Mister Lee has taken up quite a bit of work with his vegetables,“ Baekhyun pours some orange juice from a jug into the chunky little glass in front of your plate. „He was busy with carrots yesterday.“

„What— What does that have to do with…?“

„He was huffing out loud because he couldn’t pull out a particularly large one.“

„That’s what I heard when we arrived?“

„Precisely you did.“ As if your jaw couldn’t hang any lower, now you’re also flooded with embarrassment.

„He was squatting right behind the large bush that blocks the view,“ Baekhyun continues. He said he didn’t even hear us arrive because he had headphones on.“

„Jesus, really?“

„I was already wondering why I didn’t notice any danger when we arrived at the house. You only heard the noise and made a conclusion. But actually, Mister Lee was in his own world.“

„Oh…“

„I helped him plug out the remaining carrots just half an hour ago. It was really easy. He gave me a few potatoes from his garden, too. I’ll make you fries for lunch today.“

„You really hear what you want to hear,“ you say to yourself out loud and start chugging the orange juice. Maybe moving into the underground tunnel system you’re planning to build for yourself to disappear from the face of this earth is still a very good idea.

„And don’t worry. I didn’t tell Mister Lee about your reaction. He doesn’t know about the misunderstanding. I just said I heard him shout in his garden and he readily explained what he was working on.“

„That was very sensible, Baekhyun. So I was accusing him for nothing, then.“

You bury your face in your palms. Goddammit.

„Mister Lee is as harmless and unbiased against bots as this waffle,“ Baekhyun points squarely at your plate.

„And I thought this would end up in a fistfight.“

„The funny thing is. Mister Lee said he used to be a boxer back in the 1980s and had muscles like I do. He was really amused how fast I was pulling out the carrots.“

„B-Boxer? Was he trying to intimidate you?“

Maybe you need to muster your rusty karate skills again. Who knows what Mister Lee was really up to. You didn’t know much about his family, but you’re sure a more detailed Internet search would reveal that his grandfather was indeed called Bruce.

„No worries,“ Baekhyun picks up the jar again, re-filling your juice. „He called me a dapper young gentleman and offered we could come over to have carrot cake at 4 PM. He says the house is a little empty since his grandkids moved to San Francisco. Mrs Lee is also looking forward to congratulate us. If you’re free after work?“

„They… invited us?!“

„In the most friendly way possible. And their potatoes are really huge. That’s going to be a lot of fries.“

Looks like Baekhyun has found your neighbors to be much more trustable than your paranoid robot gf brain. Before you can really deliberate whether to say yes or no, your intuition does the work for you and makes your strained jaw blab the words.

„I’m free, sure I—“

The doorbell rings twice, ripping you right out of your thought flow.

Baekhyun swiftly gets up. You already expect Hyuna or Chen with the latest gossip in town about your universally heard late-night moaning noises.

Setting up what feels like another Guinness world record, you stress-eat two waffles at once before readying yourself to get up, too. Another loss of face right around the corner but at least you have something in your stomach and Baekhyun’s beautifully cooked meal isn’t getting cold which would be the ultimate heresy.

To your relief, however, Baekhyun returns with—

A post box.

„Delivery for my princess,“ he chirps from the kitchen entrance. „Wow, it’s really heavy, too!“

„God, I’m a mess,“ you shake your head at yourself.

„Pardon?“

„Nothing, I just said it’s actually for the prince, you know.“

Your castle might be an outdated yellow house, but it has a creaking palace door and splendid clothing parlor. And pancakes for dinner. And the prince has a really big dick, so.

„For— me?“

„Yes, yes. If Mr. Kim can send you something nice, I can do that, too.“

There goes another portion of your salary but fuck it. You act as if you were puffing yourself up a little, with flared nostrils and a dandy eyebrow wiggle. A laughing Baekhyun uses his mere nails to loosen the tape from the packaging in one smooth go, and also doesn’t seem to extend any efforts prying it open. You’ve never seen anyone open a box this elegantly.

„That’s the kind of rivalry between creators I didn’t expect,“ he says. „I hope you’ll like the new clothes, by the way.“

You’re starting to get the hang of this whole bots-and-boredom thing. Keeping Baekhyun on his toes is paradoxically both less and more of a big deal than you thought but you’re working it out.

A note of calling your declared friendly rival Mr. Kim to ask him for a few more pointers is what you decidedly jot down on your own mental to-do list. He explicitly said that Baekhyun can very well explain himself, but getting some more insider knowledge to ambush Baekhyun with surprises doesn’t hurt. And whatever this kinetic learning thing is, you certainly need some more ideas from the source, too.

„You can model them after we return from eating cake.“

„Nothing I’ll love more,“ Baekhyun removes some of the crumpled up paper cushioning inside. Since the box is fairly big, it takes a bit until the content becomes apparent to him. Once he realizes what it is, Baekhyun’s eyes light up and he starts jumping up and down through the kitchen.

„It’s a pink clouds machine!“

boyfriend bot on ao3

NOTE: oof, that’s a big ole fic :D i hope you liked it. talk to me about baek 😭❤️ 

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2020. all rights reserved. reposts prohibited. portrayals are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun #exo smut #exo fanfic #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun au #boyfriend bot #exo sci fi au #exo au #future au

[yandere-mha-blog]

Chapter 1: Boredom

Words: 2130

Boredom, Sure most people hated the feeling of fear the worst, or some people even hated the feeling of love. But you hated the feeling of boredom, so why you chose to take this excruciating lackluster lecture for your class was beyond you. You were tapping your nails against the desk scribbling down a few notes here and there, stuff you already knew. Why this college made you take classes that were so painfully basic was beyond your understanding, oh wait a second, money that's why.

“Hey (Name)?” your seatmate said to you

“Hmm?” you said

“Can I please see your notes? You always know the right stuff to write down,” she said

“Sure,” you said pushing your notes over a bit so she could get a better look at them

“Thank you.” She said, you nodded your head and kept listening to the drone of a lecture. Once it was finally done and over with you packed up your bags and were going to head to the courtyard.

“Man, that was boring. I don't know how you pay attention to this so well.” Your seatmate said

“I can’t really.” you said putting away your pencil case “Hope the notes help.”

“They will, hey you want to eat lunch together?” She asked

“Sorry but I like to eat alone,” you said

“Ohhh, okay we'll see you in class tomorrow (name).” she said and left, you followed suit and went to the vending machine, got a quick snack, and headed back to your dorm, the next class was in an hour and might as well relax a bit for the time being. You pulled out your phone to read the latest news.

Villain dubbed the Name NightHawk strikes again, police are looking for any leads.

“This guy again huh, he must be stalking this area.” you thought “Wonder how long he is planning to stay around this boring area.”

After looking at one too many cat videos you headed off to your next class, Mutation quirk and medication. With the wide range of quirks, there were many issues that could harm the quality of life. Studying to become a doctor sure did take a lot of work, even more work now that humans could have any range of growths, bumps, dry spots. Could that be a part of their quirk or is it a tumor that needs to be removed? This was one of the classes that interested you, the hands-on approach, if you didn't have a strong stomach you shouldn't take this class, takes you back to high school when you had to dissect a frog, then a squid, and who could forget the pig fetus. The teachers were not too thrilled that you used your quirk to open up the animals though and sent you to the counselor afterward.

Oh well

Drawing down the diagrams, your seatmate who you seem to have a lot of classes with looked over

“Man you are really good at drawing, can I take a photo?” she asked

“Sure,” you said

“You are a woman of few words huh.” she said, “but you are really nice (name).” “Thanks,” you said, trying to pay attention to the lecture, she must have gotten the hint and went back to her note-taking. Still with this being the last class of the day you were finally ready to take a nice hot bath and relax.

“So (name).” she said, “I was wondering if you want to come with me and a couple of friends tonight, we are getting some drinks.”

“Hm I don't know, I don't like getting drunk on a school night,” you said

“You have classes tomorrow?” She asked, sounding let down by that news, well not like you had anything else to do and maybe a couple of drinks with some people would curb your boredom a bit.

“Oh wait, today is Friday, I have tomorrow off.” you said “I don’t like to stay out too late, I'll still go just won't be there the whole time.”

“That's fine, I've been wanting to hang out with you, I'll pay as thanks for helping me with the notes.”

“Sounds good, which palace are we meeting up at?” you asked

“Oh, it's called cherry steam.” She said, “You know I just realized I never told you my name, it's Fumiko. Also, we are meeting there at six so in two hours

“Okay I'll meet you there,” you said and left, it had been a while since you went out so finally an excuse to wear that new dress you bought months ago, you didn’t get invited out often because most of your classmates thought of you as aloof so this was a nice treat.

So when you arrived outside Cherry Steam and it only hit you then that this was a mixer, and they were short a girl for this group of five men, just great. You sat at the end sipping away at your, you lost count, fruity drink as the guy across from you tried to make conversation.

“So uhm what are you in school for?” he asked

“Doctor, what about you?” you asked taking another sip

“Business major,” he said

“Is that so,” you said swirling the drink around your glass, god could this be any more painful, this guy was incredibly duel.

“So what's your quirk, not to brag but mine is really cool.” he said “I'm able to see behind my head with a third eye.”

“Huh that's neat, guess it must be hard for people to get the drop on you.” you said “My quirk has a habit to scare people off, so not sure if you can handle it.”

“OH come on you can show me,” he said, finally something interesting, so you held out your hand

“You sure you wanna know.” you teased

“Well now I can’t, not see it,” he said, as you flexed your fingers and your five-inch talons came shooting out of your nail beds, he jolted back. “Holy…”

“Told you.” you said taking another sip, this got the attention of the others “I'm able to flex my fingers and these talons come out.”

“Wow you could become a hero with those.” the other guy said as they looked over “can I touch them.”

“Only if you want to get cut,” you said putting your talons back in under your nail beds.

“Does it hurt when they pop out like that?” another guy asked

“Not really.'' You said, as you continued to have the conversation with these guys, you didn't notice the other girls getting a little pissed off by the lack of attention they were getting. Till Fumiko tapped your shoulder

“Hey, I need to go to the restroom. Can you come with me?” she asked

“Sure, I don't mind,” you said getting up and walking out of the booth and following her, only for her to stop outside

“(name) I'm glad you are having fun but the other girls came here as well, can you dial it down a bit?” she asked, you were now confused

“Dial what down?” you asked

“You are flirting with all of them.”She said, “So can you just, you know tone down the flirting a bit.”

“...I think I should leave,” you said

“(name) wait that's not what I meant.” She said

“Look it's getting late anyway I wasn't planning on staying out past ten.” you said “I want to make a scene I’ll just leave so you can all have fun.”

You walked back to the booth and grabbed your purse slinging it over your shoulder.

“Heyy where are you going?” the guy asked

“It's gotten late.” you said “I need to head back, thanks for the drinks.”

“Awwww, what lame.” Another guy said

“Maybe another time, bye-bye.” you said and left the booth, Fumiko came back

“Fumiii your friend left, I didn't even get her number.”

“Hey who said you would be the one getting her number?”

“Hey who said, who said you would be getting her number!” his other friend yelled at him, they started fighting amongst themselves they didn't see their other guy friend leave, till Fumi looked

“Hey didn't we have an extra guy just now?” she asked

“Hey, where is Akio?” His friend said, “That lousy bastard ditched us.”

Well, at least now we have a perfect amount of people.” One of the girls Fumiko brought said

“Greta another round then!”

You were walking down the street rather pissed off, first, she tells you it was just a couple of drinks, not the fact it was a mixer, and that they needed another woman to come. Secondly, the second that they start paying attention to you, they get all pissed off. You never understood people as you kept walking down the street in a huff letting people know to stay out of your way.

“Hey (name).” you hear a males voice oh it is one of the guys

“Huh what are you doing here?” you asked, man you felt drunk this is why you didn't drink you can't handle your booze.

“You just left all of a sudden, you okay?” He asked

“I'm fine, I'm fine, you can go back to your friends now,” you said your words were a bit slurred but you could make it home by yourself

“It's no fun when there isn't the same amount of men and women, here let me walk you home.” He said, and oh no you knew what that meant with these guys

“NO need, I can take care of myself,” you said and kept walking, he must have not gotten the hint because he kept walking behind you, before putting his arm over your shoulder

“You are stumbling let me help,” he said

“I told you I am fine,” you said slinging his arm off and kept walking, you just wanted to get away from this guy, there was a shortcut you thought not thinking correctly as you tried to lose him.

“Hey (Name), can you just listen to me, I'm just trying to be nice,” Akio said grabbing your wrist

“I don't want you to be nice, I want you to let me go before I cut you.” You said as he grabbed your other wrist.

“You won't be able to cut me if you can't move your hands.” he said, his tone shifting yup he was getting violent “You do have such an amazing quirk you know.” “Let me go already.” You said struggling before you flexed your fingers and pointed them down to stab him in the arms

“AGH YOU BITCH.” He yelled pulling back his arm and you booked it down the alley shortcut, you could hear him chasing after you. When he grabbed the back of your dress and yanked you into his chest.

“What's this, a lovers quarrel?” you heard someone else's voice, having no idea where it was coming from “You know women don't like pushy guys.” “Who the fuck said that?” Akio said not letting go of you

“I did up here.” the voice said with a whistle, and you looked up to see a man who looked around your age on fire escape legs dangling down as he was eating take out.

“This doesn't concern you,” Akio said, as you kept trying to crack loose, Akio was freaking out and now this strange man was just watching on.

“It kinda does, because here I am trying to enjoy some take out after a long day and now I see some brute manhandling someone who isn't interested.” He said as a can of coffee hit Akio on the head, not even in front of the direction the man was in. Akio must have thought it was not worth it and shoved you down and ran for it.

“Yeesh what a load of work.” The man said, “You good down there.”

“I'm… fine,” you said trying to gather your thoughts as you got up, great you skinned your knee, the man got up on his feet and looked down.

“I saw that you have a pretty neat quirk.” He said, “ Reminds me of bird talons.”

“Most people say cat paws.” you said getting up, was this guy trying to lift your spirits or something “I really wasn't thinking while coming down here, do you know the way out?”

“Yup, strength down that way to the left, wouldn't recommend going that way,” he said pointing the direction Akio booked it at.

“Thank you,” you said grabbing your purse and walking down, As the man looked in the direction Akio came to. Before an arrangement of red feathers came out from hiding in the alleyway and attached to his back, he had one more thing to do.

#yandere hawks #yandere keigo takami #yandere keigo #yandere takami #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere

[koala-otter]

can i get some soft modern!zukka pls 👉🏻👈🏻

anon honey, you can get whatever you like

I see a lot of fics where Sokka’s comforting and assuring Zuko, and as pointed out in this post by @nothing-more-than-hot-leaf-juice, something really great about their dynamic is the way Zuko actively appreciates and praises Sokka’s abilities when he’s fairly insecure about them

so here’s some soft modern!zukka written with that in mind 2k+ words

The ride back home is quiet except for the rain outside, because Sokka doesn’t say anything. Usually, after a party, he makes jokes about stuffy diplomats and comments extensively on the scant spread of hors d’oeuvres, but now, as Zuko watches him carefully in the back of the cab, Sokka only sits quietly with his arms crossed, his head turned to look out the window streaked with raindrops.

He is still quiet when they make it to their building in Ba Sing Se’s Middle Ring, and then when they walk up the three flights up stairs to their apartment. He doesn’t even turn on the light as he walks through the door and into the living room, pausing only to kick his shoes off on the way in. 

Zuko watches after him, flicking the light on once Sokka’s passed by in his stormy wake. He loosens his tie and leans against the open doorway of the living room as he racks his brain for something to say.

“Do you want anything to eat?” he finally asks. “There wasn’t a lot of food at the party. You must be starving.” 

“Not hungry,” Sokka replies with a huff. He sinks lower into the sofa.

Zuko widens his eyes. Something is really wrong, then. He ventures further into the living room, ready to work his subtle charms on his unsuspecting boyfriend.

“Is something wrong?” Zuko asks plainly.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sokka says loudly. He huffs again and crosses his arms.

Zuko rubs the right side of his face before looking at Sokka once more. “You know, it’s pretty obvious when you’re in a bad mood,” he says.

Sokka gives a short, dry laugh. “Right, and you’re the king of subtlety,” he says sarcastically.

They painted the walls robin’s egg blue in the living room when they moved in because it reminded Sokka of home, and it reminded Zuko of everything but his own. The building is old, so, while the hot water never lasts long, their apartment is a vision made up of high ceilings and tall windows with original crown molding. Zuko looks at the living room walls. During the day, the way they stretch up toward the white of the molding evokes memories of blue skies dotted with curly clouds. But at night, like now, when the light fades, and the wind whistles, and the windows are barraged with rain, the walls go dark. Almost as if the room itself were overcast.

Zuko lets a breath out and leaves the room. Sokka can’t keep anything to himself for long, but he still needs time to stew. They might as well have food ready for when he finally lets it out. 

Zuko reaches the kitchen and takes his suit jacket off, draping it over the back of a chair. The rice cooker sits on the countertop, a housewarming gift from Katara, ready for use. He takes out the pot and rinses rice in it, quickly, before measuring the water up to the first knuckle of his middle finger and placing it back in the cooker. He turns around from pressing the button to find Sokka shuffling in through the doorway, pulling a chair away from the kitchen table to settle heavily there instead. Zuko refrains from commenting on how he’ll wrinkle the jacket behind him, and instead grabs a packet of Sokka’s favorite seal jerky from the pantry and brings it with him to the table. He reaches over and takes Sokka’s hand. 

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he asks.

Sokka pouts for another moment before he’s ready. 

High-pitched, and a little whiny, he erupts, “Everyone at your work thinks I’m stupid!” 

Zuko startles away before his eyes narrow and he draws closer to Sokka. “What?” he asks, disbelieving.

Sokka waves his arms helplessly in the air and throws his head back. “All those stupid lawyers and human rights dorks you work with! They think I’m an idiot.”

Zuko almost wants to laugh, but, with a glance at Sokka’s face, thinks better of it. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he instead says earnestly. “You’re the smartest person I know.”

Sokka scoffs and crosses his arms. 

“Really, Sokka,” Zuko insists. “I don’t know anyone else getting their PhD in mechanical and aerospace engineering at Ba Sing Se, the best university in the world.” 

“I do,” Sokka says, though the corner of his mouth is tugging up into something of a smug smile.

Zuko rolls his eyes. “Right, only everybody in your lab,” he deadpans. He pauses. “There’s all the other stuff, too. Like when you help me with my work. An engineer doesn’t have to be so good at economics, too.”

Zuko works as an associate expert at the United Council of Nations for Economics, Science, and Culture. He has spent many a night dragging briefings home and poring over them at the kitchen table, trying to make sense of some graph or diagram, when Sokka will take a break from his designs and calculations to glance over his shoulder.

“Whoa, Earth Kingdom agriculture’s gonna take a real hit next year,” he once said, pointing to a data point. “That’s way too big of a cabbage surplus.”

Zuko could only gape at him, and then buy Sokka the most expensive gym bag he could find when raising the point in a meeting the next day earned him a raise. 

“It’s intuitive,” Sokka says almost humbly, looking down at the kitchen table.

“If it’s intuitive to you, you could replace everyone who was at the party tonight,” Zuko replies.

Sokka's expression turns doubtful, and he bites his lip. Zuko resists the urge to kiss it.

“They were all laughing at me,” Sokka says.

Zuko tilts his head at him. “You’re funny,” he supplies hopefully. 

“I wasn’t telling any jokes,” Sokka says sadly. 

The sound of his voice wrenches at Zuko’s heart, and he barely registers it when he rises and finds himself tilting Sokka’s face up by his chin, only able to get this angle when Sokka is sitting. He bends down and kisses him. It only lasts a second, and when he pulls back, Sokka looks no less upset. Zuko is about to try to drum up some more words of comfort for him when the rice cooker starts beeping. 

Zuko smiles apologetically at Sokka and goes back to the counter, pressing the button and opening the rice cooker. A little puff of steam rises from beneath the lid and disappears on its way to the ceiling. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, turning around to look at Sokka and leaning his back against the counter. 

“Not your fault,” Sokka says with a shrug, though the dejection still reads clearly across his face. 

The torrent outside only seems to have gotten stronger. The wet leaves of the maple tree outside their building slap against their windows, the sound so loud and forceful, they can hear it even in the kitchen.

“Jeez,” Sokka says, shifting forward to glance back at the archway that leads to the living room, “that’s loud.”

Zuko spies the jacket behind him, and he immediately brightens.

“Here,” he says, coming over to reach into the breast pocket. Sokka looks up at him in confusion as he pulls out the folded page of a newspaper and a pen. “Take this.”

Sokka takes the paper and unfolds it carefully. His brow immediately furrows in confusion. “What am I supposed to do with a crossword?” he asks. The question almost sounds like a whine. He eyes the paper once more before looking back up at Zuko like he might have gone insane. “And one you already finished?”

Zuko shakes his head. “But I didn’t finish it,” he says excitedly. He points to an area of the grid. “Look, I couldn’t figure these three out. And when I got into work, I asked everyone, and they couldn’t figure them out either.” He smiles. “If anyone can do it, it’s you, Sokka.”

Sokka looks doubtful once more, but he lays the crossword on the table. Zuko moves back to the counter and hears the click of a pen behind him. This is a good idea, he thinks, grabbing a carton of eggs from the fridge and placing a pan on the stove. Now Sokka will be occupied while he makes dinner, and they’ll have food ready just in time for when Sokka feels better, and he has time to fry eggs just the way Sokka likes them, yolks so runny they practically bleed onto the rice, and then they can watch one of his favorite history documentaries, and they’ll curl up on the sofa and fall asleep to the sound of the rain, or if they don’t feel like sleeping—

“Done!” Sokka says.

Zuko whirls around, two eggs in his hand, still uncracked, to find Sokka grinning smugly at him. “How?” he demands, genuinely surprised. 

Sokka shrugs, the grin immovable. “Easy,” he says. Zuko puts the eggs down and goes back to the kitchen table, his hand landing on Sokka’s shoulder. Sokka grabs it as he explains, “‘A Northern delicacy’ is obviously roast duck. And then ‘failure to communicate,’ with the duck in mind, is that expression your uncle’s always saying: ‘Like a chicken talking to a duck.’ And then ‘skinny appendages?’” He looks up at Zuko before he cheers, barely able to contain himself, “Chicken legs!”

“Let me see that,” Zuko says, grabbing the paper with his free hand. He stares at it closely. A small scowl reaches his lips. “Are you kidding me? I spent a whole hour on the monorail trying to get these. I almost missed my stop! And it was just ‘roast duck’ the whole time?”

He looks up sharply when he hears Sokka laughing. 

“I mean,” Zuko starts, a blush creeping into his cheeks as he smiles awkwardly, “I told you you were smart.”

“Actually, I think you called me the smartest person you know,” Sokka corrects jokingly. 

“You are the smartest person I know,” Zuko insists. 

He keeps smiling at the scratchy characters of Sokka’s writing on the crossword next to the careful strokes of his own when he feels Sokka pulling him by the hand. Once Zuko is standing in front of him, Sokka throws his arms around his boyfriend’s middle and hugs him tightly, burying his head into Zuko’s ribs. 

“Thanks, Zuko,” he says quietly into the fabric of Zuko’s dress shirt. 

One of Zuko’s hands lands on the top of Sokka’s head, stroking his hair till he reaches the end of his wolf tail. Then, Zuko wraps his arms around Sokka’s neck and shoulders and hugs him back fiercely, protectively. 

“Love you,” he says, and he smiles when he feels Sokka nod against his chest. He rubs Sokka’s shoulders and upper back, trying to ease the tight muscle beneath his hands. “Do you think you might want something to eat now?”

Sokka pulls his face away from Zuko’s shirt to beam up at him. “I thought you’d never ask,” he says enthusiastically. 

After their easy dinner of fried eggs and seal jerky on rice, Zuko ends up being right; they go back to the living room and watch a documentary on the construction of the ancient air temples. They lie on the couch with Sokka between Zuko’s legs, his head on Zuko’s chest. The rain has stopped outside, but Zuko hardly notices with Sokka pressed against him. From this angle, he can pull the tie out of Sokka’s hair and comb his fingers through the soft, brown tresses, as well as the fuzz of his undercut, while the narrator debunks a theory that aliens teleported the building materials up the Potola Mountain Range.

“What do you think, Sokka?” Zuko whispers near his ear. “Did aliens build the air temples?”

Sokka’s response is a light snore against his chest. 

Zuko suppresses a laugh. There’s no way of getting Sokka to bed without waking him, so Zuko settles in behind him instead. He wraps one of his arms protectively around his boyfriend’s body, while the other stays in place to let his fingers keep playing with Sokka’s hair, enjoying the soft smile it coaxes onto his relaxed mouth. The clouds outside clear to make way for the nearly full moon, whose light spills through the towering windows into the apartment. The dark lifts from the room, the walls glow an otherworldly blue, and Zuko sinks beneath Sokka’s weight into the night’s quiet.

#my writing #ask #anon #atla #atla fanfic #fanfiction #zukka #zuko #sokka

[platypanthewriter]

Cthulian Stargazing

Day 6 for the Harringrove April Prompts!  Steve’s dad is an evil cultist, but Steve’s just there to run errands.

The folks at the Hawkins Lab were just too newfangled, from what Steve’s dad said.  It was no wonder the monster had gotten out—you had to tie down your sacrifices for one thing, and draw containment pentagrams, for another, or actual Hell would break loose.  

Steve basically agreed, having attended the seminars—mostly to lurk around and eat free bagels—and having heard the “Whoopsie, I smeared it—” from somebody dipping a paintbrush into a bunch of blood in a jar.  That tended to be followed by the lashing of a huge tentacle, and the flapping of robes as the screaming, incompetent novice was scooped into what his dad called the “Nether Dimension.”

Given his grade in Geometry, Steve wanted nothing to do with anything that required diagramming, so he stayed politely back fetching bottled water, or grabbing strewn pages of spells as they scattered in a fell and poisonous wind.  He tried to ignore the occasional pained shrieking—they’d all assembled to summon Elder Gods, after all, and even if all thirteen hooded figures hoped the tentacles snagged somebody else’s ankle, it stood to reason it had to grab somebody.  They couldn’t always count on somebody answering their “Revenge!  Wanted: Willing Sacrifice to Demonic Powers” ads, after all, no matter how many times Steve’s dad had him change the font to be more eye catching.

It was a summer job, was all, until the day they brought in Billy Hargrove. 

“He was poking around the Steelworks,” one of the hooded figures said.  “Fell through a portal.”

Billy squirmed in the duct tape they’d cocooned him in, spluttering and growling around his gag, and Steve winced behind his mask.  “Uh, ah,” he whispered to his father.  “He hasn’t signed the waiver, has he?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” his father hissed back.  “As if anyone would look for him here.”

The other twelve’s robes fluttered as they bounced in excited agreement, and Billy gave a muffled yell, kicking like a beached trout.  

“Um,” Steve said, grimacing, and wishing his father wasn’t evil.  He envied Tommy Hagen, who had a normal dad, who sold tires.  “Uhhhh, what if he’s been, like, drinking Everclear?  He could...poison it?  Or something?”

“Don’t be an imbecile,” his father shot back.  “Cthulhu’s not going to get indigestion.”  

“I should get the duct tape off him, at least,” Steve tried.  “It, um.  Might be like eating sticky peanut butter, you know?”  To that, his dad agreed, patting his shoulder approvingly.

 Billy thrashed like a homicidal mermaid some more, snarling as Steve drug him into the bathroom by his ankles.  “They’re mostly at the sacrificial site,” Steve whispered, tearing the duct tape away from Billy’s denim-carpeted hide.  “There’s just me and my dad and his dad here, lemme get a look outside before you—” try to sneak away, he’d meant to say, but Billy beaned him from behind as he peered out the bathroom door, clonking Steve’s head into the wall, and Steve didn’t even get the chance to say “Wait until my dad isn’t right outside.”

Billy shrieked insults as they drug him into the elevator, and Steve groaned, rubbing the back of his head, and sighed heavily.  He staggered over to the altar—his father’s sect didn’t believe in bookshelves, only altars—and poked at the books with a rubber glove he’d found in the janitor’s closet.  He was fairly sure they were written on human skin, in blood, and he wasn’t touching that, so he flipped through clumsily with the huge yellow rubber gloves until he found a familiar diagram.  He fished his cell phone out and took pictures of the text, and then sighed again, and called Nancy.  

 She stared around at everything, asking “Wait, a what now, a cult?!” as Steve shrugged, grimaced, and rubbed the back of his head.  At his embarrassed silence, she shook herself—still side-eyeing him—and had him help her steal bags of flour from the cafeteria, rig up molotov cocktails with the liquor in his dad’s office, and blow every window of his dad’s building out in explosions of fire.

“Are you gonna be okay,” she asked, staring at him still, as they stood in the parking lot, and ashes fell around them like snow.

“Just a couple things left to do,” he said, sighing, as they listened to the fire trucks approach.  “Can, uh, can you talk to Hopper?  I have to go, um, they’re, y’know, sacrificing somebody.”

“Holy shit,” she breathed, nodding, and shoving him towards his car, and he coughed his way through the smoke.  With the light of the burning building, it was harder to see how the stars were aligned overhead, bright and ominous.

 He parked a ways away from the hill with the sacrificial altar, and pulled on his robe and mask.  He could hear high-pitched screaming, and he grimaced as he climbed, and elbowed his way through the circle of chanting cultists.

“Is that you, Fletcher?!” Steve’s dad asked, and Steve nodded, waving as he tromped up the hill, his robes flapping in the ominous wind.  “Dammit,” his dad said, “—can’t you ever be on time?”

“Mmnm,” Steve said, not wanting to blow his cover.  They’d gotten Billy into a white shift, and between his curls and his long lashes, he looked the part, except for the smear of blood over his face where he had some of a cultist’s fingers in his teeth.  He had another one by the hair as she tried to cuff his wrist to the table.  

The bitten cultist was the one screaming, and Steve grinned to himself, shaking his head as he surreptitiously checked the diagrams, hiding his phone in his sleeve.  He paced around the blood-drawn circle—his dad had told him long ago that they could use chicken or pork blood, so he was fairly sure the blood wasn’t Billy’s—though it might be the screaming cultist’s, Steve thought with satisfaction, watching red drip off the side of the altar.  

“Allow me,” he said, to the one trying to get her hair loose from Billy’s fist, and she let Steve grab her hair, and yank her loose.  Billy grabbed for his face, and Steve jerked back, glancing up to see the stars pulsing faintly as the chanting heightened, and the circle lit around them.  

He stepped away to Billy’s ankle, glad his dad was too archaic-minded for locks, and fiddled with the clasp.  “This isn’t even done up right,” he said loudly, unhitching it so Billy could move, and then pushing Billy’s foot back down.  Billy’d gone still, his eyes narrowed at Steve’s mask.  “He could have kicked it open,” Steve said, squeezing Billy’s ankle, hard.  “I better check the others,” he said meaningfully, digging his fingers in so Billy couldn’t move, “—so he doesn’t get away.”

Billy must have gotten the message, because he didn’t move, aside from biting down harder.  The cultist’s screams turned to gibbering shrieks, and Steve stepped around to unclasp Billy’s other ankle, as Steve’s dad started to chant.  The circle lit from below, its beam meeting the light of the aligned stars overhead, and Steve ran to shove the bitten cultist away, and unclasp Billy’s cuffed wrist as his body arched, glowing form within, and he yelled FUCK at the top of his lungs.  

“Come on,” Steve hissed, yanking Billy off the table.  He fell in a pile, shuddering, as Steve’s dad yelled, and Steve shoved Billy as hard as he could through the line of cultists—they shouted and grumbled, like a flock of crows—and down the hill, so he fell and rolled.  Steve dropped to a crouch in the confusion to lick the edge of his robe and scrub it hard at the inner circle of blood, and as the line scrubbed away, the ground cracked.  A chasm opened as Steve scrambled back, and he could hear the dude Billy had bitten screaming more as he fell.  The rest of the crowd fell with him, shrieking.

Steve stumbled and fell down the hill, grabbing for the white shift that was all he could see in the shifting, malevolent light of the burning stars, and the red light flickering as tentacles rose from the depths of the earth.  He could hear his dad yelling at him as he staggered away, his arm around Billy, before his dad’s voice suddenly cut off.  

“What the fuck,” Billy was panting, “—what the fuck, what in the fucking fuck—”, which was fair.  He stumbled against Steve, staggering through the woods, probably barefoot, now Steve thought about it.  He grimaced, as the earth shook again, and the roar of the creature they’d summoned blew the leaves up around them.  It had probably hit the outer containment circle, Steve thought, from the way its cries shook the earth.

“Here,” he said, yanking Billy’s arm over his shoulder, and pulling him up onto his back.  “Hang on,” Steve shouted, over the cacophony.

“What the fuck,” Billy yelled into his shoulder, clinging like a koala, and Steve took a few steps under the considerable weight of Billy Hargove, weightlifter, and regretted many of his life decisions.  “The fuck did you do,” Billy shouted, and Steve hefted him up higher, staggering along as the stars burned like suns, lighting their path.  

“Just smudged it some,” Steve hollered back, forcing himself along until he got to his car, and he could tip Billy back into the passenger seat.

“Smudged what,” Billy shouted, nearly overbalancing Steve to stare back at the stars.  “What was that?!” The massive tentacles lashed nearly up to the sky in the flickering, rising greenish light, and Steve shrugged, walked around the car, and climbed in.  He turned the key.  

“Should clear up in a couple hours,” he said hopefully, and Billy stared over at him.  Steve handed over his phone.  “What’s it say?” 

Billy squinted at the photos, his eyes wide and horrified, as Steve flung his mask and robe into the backseat, and hit the gas.  “...looks like the portal will close,” Billy said, and Steve nodded.  

“Okay,” he said, white-knuckling it as the ground shook.  “Okay.”

“Are there more of those assholes?” Billy asked, staring back through the window, and scrubbing his hand against the blood drying on his chin.

“Yeah, there are,” Steve sighed, then bit back a grin, and glanced over.  “...you wanna blow up their headquarters?”

“You had me at ‘blow up,’ Billy said, crossing his legs on the dash, and smirking up at the too-brightly shimmering stars.

He had blood on his teeth.

The other Harringrove April prompts I’ve done

#harringrove #Harringrove April #Elder Gods #Silliness

[oopcio]

henlo! I'm asking from my main but i have an ask for the arcana. How would the Main 6 react to an MC that's a Fae, like how would they see them as a person? would they trust them? I'd like to know! you don't have to do this immediately, you can take your time! - alegna-thefool

hhhhhhhh oh please yes this is so adorable tysm!!!! 💖💕💜✨🥰✨💜💕💖

ps i’m picturing this as the fae from wiccan/pagan folklore 👉🏻👈🏻

asra:

his first impression is wary, since he’s been told all his life that the fae aren’t always as friendly and kind as they seem, and that they cannot be held to human standards. maybe it started out as something as simple as losing a charm he uses often, only to find it a few days later in the backroom where he reads cards, a place he often visits. he had to be cautious while expressing his thankfulness, seeing as he didn’t want to unknowingly put himself in a contract with the fae. however, the first time he actually found you, looking around the shop at all of the potions and the crystals, his heart stopped. he spent days and weeks talking to you about all the stuff in his shop. “yes, i actually made the cards myself! ah, you really think so? why, thank you!” it was only a matter of time before he found himself thinking that maybe he could trust you, if none of the other fae. it was quite obvious to him that you weren’t like the others, you were not looking to make contracts and gather offers, you were interested in all the things that decorated the store. soon enough he wasn’t thinking of you as a fae he had to pick his words carefully around, you were just another person intrigued in his knowledge of spells and tarot. he even started to leave you offerings, even if you explained you didn’t need/want them. he’d put cute little shells, small flowers, pretty rocks, tiny crystals, pretty much anything that was small and reminded him of you. “yes! i saw this when i visited the market the other day, and i thought it’d look so adorable on your offering table. oh, please, just accept it! i got it just for you.” sure, he’d went against everything he was ever told about the fae, but he quickly realized he had no regrets about doing so, and he’d do it all over again if he had the choice.

nadia:

nadia is the type of cautious that you’re unaware of. she’s so careful in displaying her apprehension that she does it in a way you wouldn’t notice, and, the way she sees it, anything other than such would seem rude. “milady! someone is in the palace!” a servant would alert her, tension in all points of their body, proceeding to tell her that they were spotted heading into her quarters. she advised them to calm down and sent them away, claiming she’d handle it. she headed into the baths, and, sure enough, there you were, letting your legs dangle in the water as you take in the view. her intuition had immediately told her that you were no threat. in fact, she knew exactly what you were as soon as your eyes met. “i can’t seem to recall having business with anyone in my private bath,” she smiled, watching as you stride towards her. you were definitely charming, but that was to be expected. she easily loosened her stance, with her newfound peace of mind. you grab her hand gently and place a jade necklace into it. you explain that this was merely a impromptu visit, as you were here to return the necklace that rightfully belonged to her. all the other fae were far too scared to come return the pendant once they had realized that what they’d taken belonged to the countess, so you came in their stead. needless to say, nadia began to trust you almost immediately, and she even let you clasp the necklace around her, as well. “why, thank you. i apologize for all the commotion you must have faced as you tried to come into my quarters.” you told her it was certainly no trouble at all, and that it was all worth it for this moment. “i’m glad to hear that this feeling is mutual. after all, i quite enjoy your company. shall i leave offerings for you, should you wish to return?” no matter what you tell her, it will become a daily routine to have her servants place only the finest jewelry and gems as offerings for you. even if you ask for something simple, she will insist on spoiling you. “well, i’d like for you to know that you’re welcome in my quarters at any time,” she adds, the faintest blush covering her cheeks.

julian:

he’s been quite interested in things like the fae and whatnot ever since mazelinka would mention them when he was younger, and it really sparked again when asra would sometimes make a passing comment about them when they used to work together. but the poor thing is oblivious, so when his pens and notebooks start to disappear and show up again, only a few days later, at a place he frequently went to, he figured it was just himself simply misplacing his belongings and forgetting where he put them. it was nothing too worrying. well, not until he seen somebody with an incredible energy surrounding them in his office, about to place one of his medical notebooks in his drawer. “who are you? how did you get in here?” but it didn’t take long for the dots to connect in his mind - in fact, it was almost like the moment he seen your eyes, he knew what you were. but, he still had to be careful; that much he knew. you held up the notebook, lightly waving it around in answer. he let out a quiet ‘oh’ and simply took a seat, waiting with his hands outstretched for the book. you pull it back and watch all the blood rush to his face, patiently waiting for you to give it to him and hoping that you don’t open it. all hope was quickly lost, though. you open it in search for one specific page, and once you find it, you show it to him with a proud, mischievous grin. it was a drawing of a fairy, albeit not correct at all, with plenty of notes and scribbles. there was a lot of care on this page, especially, you noticed. “h-hey! i know what you’re trying to imply, but!... i’ll have you know that is... a medical... diagram...” each word got quieter and quieter, and eventually, he gave up on the explanation. you simply giggled and placed the book back in his hands, done with the teasing. “how am i supposed to make a diagram if i didn’t know what a fairy looked like until now?” he huffs, a blush spreading over his cheeks to the tips of his ears. you grin, leaning back against the wall as you seat yourself on his desk and offer to help him with his diagram. and, well, it ended up looking more like you than a general fae. hey! it was the betterment of science and medicine... and it also didn’t hurt to have you keep coming in for health check-ups.

muriel:

he first found a fairy ring in the forest, not too far from his hut, but he knew far better than to step foot inside of it. however, just because he knew better, didn’t mean he couldn’t accidentally stumble into it... hey, don’t look like that! it wasn’t his fault! he didn’t mean to! he just had a misstep! what he didn’t expect - never in a million years, in fact - was to come home one day (from trying to set protections against the fae, ironically) and find a fae in his hut. even when inanna tried to walk forward to greet this being (which, she never did, by the way), he was cautious. “why are you in my hut,” he would ask, doing anything and everything he could to avoid your eyes. you’d explain to him that you come to try and help him set protections against the other fae, since you knew how they could be and how to properly do so. a whole evening later, spent putting up the protections and complimenting his handiwork around the hut just to see how adorably flustered he’d get. then he realized it’d be a real shame if he had just put up a protection against you, especially with your help, but how could he say that in a way that wasn’t weird? “..........hey, um......... does this keep you out, too?..........” his eyes quickly widened. “not that i want to keep you out!.....” he huffed, getting all flushed again, and you smiled. you explained that if he wanted, he could set up a small offering table for you. you wouldn’t ask for much, and you didn’t want to trouble him. you just didn’t want this to be the last time your paths crossed. and then began a tradition! each day he’d place a small flower or blade of grass he found on a table inside the den of the hut, and when you came around, you’d sometimes help him place protections or even weave flower crowns with him. sure, he acted like he absolutely hated it, and he’d cringe when you placed the forget-me-nots on his head, but he’d always get flushed and turn his head to hide the smile that threatened to creep up on his lips. you even made inanna one to match with muriel!

portia:

she definitely had no prior knowledge about the fae. she thought they were just made up, but she was familiar with the little fairy houses some people put in their gardens, and she thought that was just so cute! even pepi might enjoy it, so, when she made one, she thought nothing of it. but as soon as she found a fae, a real one, she was caught waaay off guard. because she didn’t know anything other than the made up bits, she will definitely ask a lot of questions. “so, can you really fly around? do you carry little pouches of fairy dust around with you? ooh! can you put some on my garden?” you explain to her, telling her what is myth and what is fact. while you’re at it, you cautiously (and politely) warn her of the dangers of attracting forces you don’t know a lot about, and she takes the information to heart. “i swear on pepi i’ll never do something so silly again!” she beams at you when you do offer to help her with her garden, and you even make it a bit of a routine. you playfully take turns pushing flowers in each other’s hair until it seems there are more flowers than hair. she takes great care of the fairy house from this point on, decorating it with little rocks and plants in case you ever want to stay there. if you ever tell her, though, that it might be better if she takes it down so none of the other fae can take advantage of her kindness, she will listen to you and take it down as soon as possible. she greatly enjoys your company and soon enough, you spend many mornings drinking tea together in the cottage while the both of you cuddle and pet pepi.

lucio:

“what do you MEAN my exotic golden spoons and forks are gone?! i had them RIGHT HERE!!!” he notices that his priceless belongings keep going missing and he blames it on the servants at first, only to find them a few days later. still doesn’t stop him from damning everyone and everything he comes into contact, though. “where is my EYELINER?!” he shrieks, only to find an ethereal looking being in his quarters, placing his stolen goods back on his dresser. they look back and smile, quickly apologizing for their friends who seem to get a kick out of taking his belongings (but, like, who doesn’t?). the absolute charm and the energy this being carries has him literally swooning, bending over backwards to insist it was no trouble at all. “oh don’t worry!!! when you’re this charming you can get away with sneaking into my room anyday.” he takes great interest in the fact that there is what is known as a ‘fae’ in his room, a term he’s only heard a handful of times in stories growing up, as he’s roamed here and there. expect many questions coming your way. “do you have wings?! can you make yourself small? like, the size of my pinky?!” he’d definitely start to leave offerings of lots of gold and expensive things, even if you asked for something simple, but he’d always make note that it was for you only. he’s definitely angered the other fae by now, though. you better prepare him for many misfortunes.

(a/n: woa these ended up coming out really long, sorry!!!! i really enjoyed writing these, esp muriels 👉🏻👈🏻 hope you don’t mind!!!)

- jiah 💖

#the arcana #faerie #fae #reactions #the arcana reacts #writing #ask #jiah writes #alegna-thefool

[nitewrighter]

We need more ASOIAF gency pls

Oh man it’s been a hot minute since I’ve written for that AU. And by hot minute I mean three years.

Previous Ficlets: 1, 2

“The nature of humanity is every so often we accidentally reinvent the Jaime/Brienne Bath Scene.”

-----

They waited for a long while until the rain on the sept would let up, but it seemed the rain would only reduce itself, not stop completely. As time passed it was argued that if they didn’t want to spend the night in that crumbling sept, they would have to keep moving. Mercy would have preferred them to stay where they were and allowed Genji more time to recover from his injuries, but conceded being this exposed to the cold and wet only put him at further risk for suppuration. Orisa had a map on her person that indicated a village a few hours’ travel southwest. After some bickering debate with a still somewhat delirious Genji, the three of them found themselves walking the kingsroad in a prickling drizzle, the rolling hills of the Riverlands seemingly buckling under the white weight of mist.

 Both Orisa and Mercy had insisted on putting Genji up on Orisa’s horse, Dynast, with his injuries, and he argued something about looking like an ass making a Septa walk while he rode, but eventually Orisa just hoisted him up into the saddle and his wince from his wounds cut off any further argument. Genji rode with a sour frown on his face. His hand still over the point where Mercy had laid the kingscopper poultice over the worst of his wounds.  She tried not to look at him too much as they walked, and when she did, she did her best to convince herself that it was out of concern for his injuries, not studying the face of the would-be betrothed she was supposed to be fleeing. The mud of the road sucked up around Mercy’s boots and skirts, and at one point got so deep that she stumbled when her foot loosened in her boot. She stumbled and lost her balance, flailing and braced herself for a face full of mud, but then she felt a hand catch her arm. 

“Thank you, Lady Orisa--” she started as she regained her footing and yanked her skirts up out of the mud with her other hand, but then she realized the hand gripping her wasn’t armored. 

She glanced up to see Genji, the drizzle making his dark hair stick to his forehead. He had caught her arm before she could fall in the mud.

“Th-thank you, My Lord,” she managed, glancing off as they resumed walking.

“That’s fine armor you have on, Lady Orisa,” Genji commented on as Orisa flipped up the visor of her horned helmet with the darkening skies, “Stormlands?”

“Yes,” said Orisa, glancing off.

“...And you swore your sword to the Seven to avoid being conscripted into Ogundimu’s power grab, I take it?” said Genji, turning his attention back forward.

“I swore my sword to the light of the seven because I trust gods more than men, Lord Shimada,” said Orisa tersely, giving a weary and wary glance to Mercy.  Mercy wondered which of the seven hells they would be going to for their deceit... but then again she was already disgracing Woolflower Hall by fleeing her betrothal and lying to her betrothed’s face, might as well throw heresy into the mix. They had only meant to get Mercy to Oldtown, but now they were losing time and ground, and they were in the company of the very person they were supposed to be fleeing.

“Practical,” Genji said with some amusement, “I bet the Smith’s your favorite.”

A prickle of fear went through both Orisa and Mercy at the mention of the Smith. It was the Patron aspect of the Sept at Aurochs-ford Hall, the seat of House Oladele--was Genji saying he knew which house Orisa was sworn to before she started protecting Mercy? 

Play the role and the fool, Mercy decided, Fear only rouses more suspicion.

“They’re aspects of a septune god, My Lord, you’re not supposed to have ‘favorites,’” said Mercy, assuming the best holier-than-thou Septa voice she could.

“Doesn’t stop folk from having one. Personally, I like the Stranger,” said Genji, clearly goading her. So he was just talking. Spouting charming nonsenses to fill the air. 

Your fear is getting the better of you, Mercy thought to herself, He’s a vain and silly lordling, and once he’s safely at the Inn, you can leave him first thing in the morning.

“Best not to say that too loud with your injuries, my lord,” said Mercy, giving him a shrewd sidelong glance.

He gave her a smile, though she assumed it was more at his own teasing than anything.

It was only dusk, but with the weather so bad it may as well have been night by the time they reached the Inn of the Kneeling Man. The innkeep was a tall, uncomely woman whose sharp, dark eyes scanned across the three of them as they stabled their horse and walked in--bloody, muddy, and soaked to the bone. She eyed Genji’s clothes.

“...bit of a small traveling party for a lordling,” the innkeep remarked.

Genji scoffed. “We will be needing a room. Two tubs. And enough hot water for three baths. If you have access to Ravens, I should need pen and paper as well. I must write my brother to let him know where his machinations have landed me.”

“He was injured by brigands,” Mercy explained, “Is there a Maester we can call who can attend his injuries as he bathes?”

“There’s a sept in a village a few hours’ ride north,” said the Innkeep, “But to get word to him and for him to get down here...he wouldn’t be here but by morning.”

“...Ah,” Mercy glanced down.

“But it was you who set the poultice earlier. Getting tired of me already, Septa?” Genji tilted his head at her.

 Mercy caught herself. If she had attended his injuries before, why would she stop now? Because he would be in a bath? She felt her ears burn and was thankful they were covered by a Septa’s wimple. 

“A maester would be better equipped for someone of your status, my lord,” said Mercy, glancing off.

“I’m too tired to wait hours for an old man to hobble over on a donkey in the dead of night and look me over,” said Genji with an eye-roll, “You’re a healer, and you’ve kept me alive this long. Besides, it’s not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before.”

“...of course, my lord,” there was a slight shake to her agreement and Orisa looked over her with some alarm.

“Lady Orisa, you’ve been walking in armor for hours,” said Mercy, “You may take your bath in our room, and I will see to Lord Shimada.”

Orisa’s eyes flicked to Genji, now haggling with the innkeep and explaining he would leave his chestplate as collateral for payment for the night before arranging with his brother to send them gold, and then back to Mercy. There was a wary confusion in her eyes but Mercy gave her a glance that said, “We’ll play our roles.” 

----

“Perhaps you can feign a cold?” said Orisa, peeling off her armor as an Innmaid filled her wooden tub with steaming water from a kettle.

“He did say it was nothing I haven’t seen before,” Mercy responded quietly, “And--and I’ve already been healing him, and I’ve read plenty of Maester’s texts on medicine and anatomy,” Mercy scoffed, “He’s right. It’s nothing. I shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”

Orisa gave Mercy an arched-eyebrow before stepping into the tub, a shuddering exhale falling out of her as she sank into the water. “Just... call me if you need me Lady An--I mean, Septa Mercy,” she said, sighing as she settled in, letting the warmth sooth her muscles. Mercy nodded, took her bag of herbs and stepped out of the room. Genji’s room in the inn was down the hall, and she heard him wincing even before she opened the door.

With the creak of wood the words, “I can undress myself--ngh!” flinched out of Genji as Mercy walked around him. Another innmaid had filled his tub and hurried out of the room, eyes cast down. Genji looked up over his shoulder at her. “Septa,” he said with a slight nod as she closed the distance between them.

“...My lord,” she said stepping in front of him and then focusing on the buckles of his brigantine. He winced as she pushed it off over his shoulders.

“I must thank you, Septa Mercy,” he said, stuffing down a grunt of pain as they both worked to get his tunic over his head, “And apologize. I’m sure your true calling is making life more bearable for the smallfolk, not thrust into the role of one more servant to a Storm Lord.”

“Well, for the sake of the smallfolk, one must make sure nothing befalls our noble storm lords,” said Mercy. He leaned against her as he stepped out of his boots, his breath drawing in tense. All that remained were his breeches. She looked with some concern down at the laces and became distracted for a second by the lines of his stomach. He was leaner than she would expect a lordling to be--scrappy and lithe, almost catlike, like a sellsword. She bit the inside of her lip and tried to remind herself that it was like the corpse diagrams of her Maester’s texts.

“They always suffer our petty dramas the most, don’t they?” Genji sighed, undoing the laces of his breeches to Mercy’s relief. He moved to pull his pants down and then grunted again. Mercy stepped back, giving him some space to try and maneuver better while still supporting him, he made eye contact with her, moved to pull down the breeches once more, and then drew in a pained breath through his teeth. “Septa,” he said tensely, “Know that I am a proud man, and were I capable, I would not ask you to perform this task but...” 

“...Right,” Mercy said, “I can...” she trailed off. Could she? Suddenly she was a stupid noble lady of Woolflower Hall sitting around uselessly again, not the practical, powerful healer she aspired to be. Or was she simply not that with Genji, studying her now with those dark eyes framed by thick eyelashes and even thicker brows? 

“Septa--?” he said and Mercy tried to use the panic her own hesitation induced to speed her hands without shaking them. Bracing one hand to support the uninjured side of his torso, she yanked down his breeches at several awkward points. She tried to focus her eyes on the chamberpot underneath the bed behind Genji before she finally managed to get his breeches down past his knees and rising up to support him at the shoulders as he stepped out of them. A huff escaped him, but she kept supporting his weight as he finally (finally!) stepped into the bath. She helped him lower as much as she could, but her own exhaustion from their travels had pushed her to her limits, and there was only so much weight she could support while bending over. But his own legs were jelly, and rendered even more so by the warm water around him, and he gracelessly plopped into the tub, sending water sloshing over the sides and grunting as he supported himself with his arms on the sides of the washbasin. The poultice on his side was coming apart, sending up small white and yellow flowers and tea-leaf-like bits floating up on the surface of the bath. The smell of them was soothing though. “Not exactly a gentle healer, are you?” said Genji, easing up in the bath. She studied the other injuries on his body. No signs of suppuration. No injuries on his legs that she had missed back in the ruined Sept. His delirium seemed to be mostly shock and blood loss. Good. 

Mercy laughed nervously at his words before quickly stepping away to prepare another poultice from her bag. “I suppose I’m used to treating rougher sorts--Smallfolk, you know.” She tried not to turn around as she worked. Tried not to look at the shifting of his shoulders and chest, or the little droplets running down it. She knew she would have to eventually, to clean off the remains of the old poultice, help him out, and apply the fresh one, but she focused on tearing apart herbs with shaking fingers.

Genji gave an amused huff out of his nostrils. “I suppose so,” he said quietly, “I used to envy them, used to think they were free enough to not be married off like chattel--but they are, same as us. I should just count myself lucky I’m not giving goats to Woolflower Hall.”

He brushed his wet hair back from his face as Mercy stepped over with a clean cloth and began wiping away the remainders of the old poultice.

“And my bride’s even less thrilled about it than I am, I look forward to having that much in common with her--nnh!” he winced, the water around the wound pinkening with blood as she brushed more kingscopper from him, “...if she’s not---

“Dead in a ditch somewhere?” said Mercy, “Yes. You’ve said. I will pray to the Maiden for her safe--”

“For her safe return, yes, you’ve said,” said Genji, clearly trying to talk through the pain.

Her eyes flicked up to him from his wound. “If you need more time to soak...” she started.

“I fear I’m a bit too lightheaded for that,” said Genji with a chuckle as she got up to fetch him a cloth to dry off with, “Oh Warrior, please lend our dear Septa your strength to get my useless arse out of the bath--Pardon the profanity.”

“You’re not exactly a gentle lordling yourself,” said Mercy, arching an eyebrow.

Genji just held an arm out to her. “Storm lord,” he said giving her a dizzy smile that made her stomach tense.

She cleared her throat, dropped to one knee next to the bath, shouldered his arm while bringing hers around his back, then slowly rose to her feet, bringing him up with her. A pained, grunting breath fell out of him, and he was dripping water all over her. A wave of lightheadedness visibly hit Genji as he rose, but Mercy was too busy trying not to look down, trying to focus on the chamberpot again as Genji almost drunkenly swung one leg over the edge of the washbasin.

“There...we go....” Genji winced. The day’s exhaustion was soaked into Mercy, too though. She could feel her legs shaking under his weight. 

“Genji?” she said warily.

“’Sfine...” Genji grunted, “’mfine, Storm lord...” his weight was swaying with only her as his support.

“Let’s get you over to the bed...” she grunted, walking over, trying not to look down. 

“Would that you were my bride, all... strong and no-nonsense... treating my wounds... like a song...” Genji seemed to be talking just to keep himself awake at this point, but his words made Mercy’s neck prickle with panic, “Alas, you’re married to the Seven...” His head lolled. He couldn’t seem to get his eyes to focus. 

Just get him to the bed, thought Mercy, Just get him to the bed, and get the other poultice on--

But then she slipped in the puddle of water Genji was dripping on the floor. And Genji was in no state to catch her this time. Quite the opposite. She landed on her hip with a pained grunt and Genji completely limp and naked on top of her. 

“Orisa!” the call came out of her as a flinch and there was a thunder of footsteps down the hall and Orisa wrenched the door open, clad only in a white cloth wrapped around her torso from the bath, but still wielding her arming sword.

“You would dishonor a Septa--!” she started furiously, but then she noted Genji’s complete limpness on top of her, “...please tell me he isn’t dead,” said Orisa.

“He’s passed out. Help me get him onto the bed,” said Mercy, attempting to flip the sodden cloth at Genji’s hip over his bare ass. 

“...I’m pretty sure when Lady Efi charged me with your protection, she didn’t imagine us doing anything like this,” said Orisa. 

“Orisa!” said Mercy, struggling under Genji’s unconscious frame.

Orisa sighed and bent down.

Together they managed get him onto the bed and cover his nakedness with a blanket. Mercy set a fresh poultice over his wound and watched for a few moments as his chest shallowly rose and fell. 

“Thank you, Orisa,” said Mercy, pushing the stray strands of hair that had fallen loose from her wimple back.

“Did we not agree we were getting you away from this betrothal?” Orisa’s voice was hushed, “Getting you to Oldtown so you could properly study the healing arts? Getting you away from the bitter rivalry of Storm Lords?”

“I know,” said Mercy, looking at Genji’s pale and scarred face, “...I know.”

“...I am getting my bedclothes on,” said Orisa flatly, “And you might see about getting a bath yourself.”

The exhaustion was deep in Mercy’s bones at this point, but the word ‘Bath’ gave her an unwanted flare of adrenaline.

#gency #asoiaf au #tfw Game of Thrones is Dead To You but you still remember the way the books made you feel... #also the Orisa/Brienne venn diagram... #*clutches chest*

[f-nodragonart]

How do you draw folded bat wings? I tried to look up references but it looks so dark and such a mess that I can't figure out what's going on. All my dragons have their wings sticking out and I want them to relax and fold their wings, but I can't figure it out.

first, know that having a good grasp on wing anatomy is the first step, so I rec checkin out my crash-course on vertebrate wings, if u need it. I’ll try to summarize some of the more relevant points when necessary here, tho

that said, real-life folded bat wings are actually a lot messier than u might expect, as bat bones/joints are SUPER-duper flexible

tho this may also be a consequence of their legs/hips being right there, splayed out where the ends of their fingers fold up, and other body types prolly wouldn’t require that particular zig-zig crinkling of the fingertips

I also doubt that that level of flexibility would even be available in the bones/joints of dragons as large as horses, or even just dogs, though I could be wrong about that

either way, I’ll give you some examples of how I approach folded bat wings in my designs

so here we’ve got a standard folded bat wing. note that the LOWER arm is the most visible portion of the the arm anatomy-- the lower arm pulls up over the upper arm, and the fingers curl up under both arm sections 

the “tightness” of the folding can vary, depending on the look you want. real-life bats obviously have CRAZY flexible wrists, and can tuck their fingers snug up against their arms/bodies all the way down. and I’m sure you could pull the wrist up a lil closer to the shoulder if need be. however, I believe the position as I’ve drawn-- with the lower arm hanging a bit down towards the front of the body, and the fingers loosely tucking in-- could be a perfectly comfortable, relaxed position for folded bat-dragon wings. this is especially considering that bat wings would be located more towards the midline/sides of the torso rather than right up near the spine like birds, meaning gravity would pull on them a bit more easily, possibly lending to this loose pose. BUT that also depends on the exact wing muscle configuration-- wings generally have pretty good ‘locking’ mechanisms when tucked closed, so tighter tucking is a perfectly reasonable possibility

I will note that wings ought not to be tucked up on top of the back. even bird wings located closer to the spine don’t rest their wrists above the shoulders-- the wings still hang to the sides, with the wrists held near the front of the body

I can’t imagine that pulling the wings back constantly is very comfortable, much less a position that affords the wing muscles any rest

tho the elbows would prolly need to be pulled next to or above the hips a bit, so the elbows don’t interfere with hind leg movement

on that note, also notice the anatomical proportions of the wings and how they affect the look of the folded wing. the upper arm of a wing will ALWAYS be shorter than the lower arm, so when they’re folded up, the wrist will stick out in front of the shoulder. usually even in front of the front limb shoulders, depending on the size of the wings (I think I drew these wings a bit small in comparison to body size, but we’ll just pretend this guy ain’t a particularly strong flyer)

the finger proportions are actually very similar to human fingers, in that the sections closest to the wrist are longest/thickest, while the sections closer to the tips are shorter/thinner. this means that when the fingers fold up, the bases will have long sections without joints, while the tips will be able to curl quite tightly, which you may be able to visualize more precisely here

the bend back under the arm at the 3rd joint may, admittedly, be a bit too sharp even by bat standards, so the fingers may still need to follow the line of the body

but I still think the fingers should be able to curl up under the arm just fine, honestly

now, while it’s important to know the underlying structures here, also note that certain parts of the folded wing (like fingertips) simply won’t be visible due to the membrane

and this is where folded wings get tricky-- not only is it hard to keep track of what’s covered up, but also what sections are connected to one another! hopefully the above diagram helps you visualize how the membrane lays over the overall arm structure at least, but being able to follow membrane connections in different positions takes a bit of familiarizing with overall wing anatomy

(also note that for ease of seeing the base anatomy, I’m not adding in most of the membrane wrinkles I usually would. just keep in mind that bat membranes are embedded w/ a lotta lil tendons that help scrunch up the membrane and hold the wings steady)

I will at least point out one particular section of membrane that trips folks up a lot

here, it’s important to remember that the back edge of the membrane (specifically the plagiopatagium section), connecting back onto the body, is ALSO connected to the back of the arm AND the pinkie finger. thus, we must keep in mind the flow of this section of membrane in the folded wing. note that it may very well cover up part of the visible finger(s) (particularly the pinkie) just before they tuck underneath the arm, as I’ve shown above

now, something fun about bat wings is that they’ve got ROTATION in their wrists! so, unlike birds, you can give yourself some freedom in how many of the fingers are visible, when folded up

I WILL say, though, that real-life bats seem to go for the latter folding, more reminiscent of a bird folding their wrist sideways next to their lower arm rather than curling the wrist underneath the lower arm. but, again, bats have way more leeway in wrist flexion, so I think any of these wrist positions are perfectly possible for a bat-winged dragon

and this flexion will also be affected by the kinda palm you give your wings. while many dragon artists give their dragons humanoid palms, real-life bats don’t actually have palms-- the metacarpals that make up our palms are actually the base bones of bat wing fingers. thus, bats just have a tiny connection area of carpals to connect fingers to arm, allowing for a frankly crazy range of flexion. while I’m not sure about how exactly a palm might affect flight, I don’t think they’re necessarily a problem so long as they’re downsized (palms proportionally the size of human palms compared to the arm would be WAY too heavy/thick for flight..) and retrofit for flight in shape (think about oncoming air currents and what parts of the palm would need to be more/less stabilized or aerodynamically shaped)

also note that, if the wing has a thumb and it’s visible, then the front edge membrane (propatagium) is gonna attach to it

like so (depending on the exact position of the thumb, of course)

now, I know some dragon artists like to curl the tips of the fingers up over the elbows, like this

and like, sure, the tips may be visible past the back edge of the membrane, if you go for the finger-tuck where the fingers follow the line of the body. or if the fingertips aren’t typically bat-like, but are stiffer and incapable of comfortably curling up. I’m specifically thinking of designs with faux-feather cartilage, or those with pterosaur-like fans of cartilage fibers across the membrane, leading to more bird-like folding

but idk, this desire to pull the fingertips up over the membrane THAT far seems uncomfortable and unnecessary? like, I really don’t understand why a dragon wouldn’t simply tuck their fingertips up against their body, following underneath the membrane, as a bat does. if anyone wants to argue me this point, I’m willing to hear it out tho

so, I know that was a lot of hyper-specific info, but if you step back for a minute and just take in the overall look of a folded bat wing, it turns out folded bat wings are WAY easier than most ppl realize!

truly, so many people overthink like, where the fingertips end up, or how the membrane overlays the arm. but once you understand how it all fits together, you can condense the look of it into basic shapes like this

and you can add or subtract detail depending on your style, how defined you want the arm to be from the membrane, how wrinkly/detailed you want the membrane, etc.

hope this helps!

-Mod Spiral

#wings #folded wings #anatomy #bat wings #mod spiral

[raendown]

It’s still February where we are and no fan gets left behind! @copyninken​ and I both made gifts for the wonderful @kaiyaru​ for the @madatobigiftexchange​! We hope you enjoy! 

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 3499 Rated: T+ Summary: Sometimes it's the harebrained schemes that end up working best, though not always in a way you might expect.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Have You Tried Tying Them Together

For his unceasing quest to bring peace Hashirama had been called a good man by many, lauded as a kind individual with the patience of a saint and the innocent heart of a child. Many had tried to repay his kindnesses in countless different ways and he had refused them all with a smile. At the moment, he was regretting that. Hashirama wished dearly that he had taken some of the offers for a free night at this or that onsen, accepted one of the invitations to dinner at so-and-so’s table, something, anything to get him out of the predicament he currently found himself in. Even a man with endless patience grew tired of standing in between his two most precious people.

Perhaps it hadn’t been the best idea to invite his brother and his best friend out for dango at the same time. He was of course well aware of how poorly they got along but despite all hurdles he‘d encountered Hashirama clung stubbornly to the hope that someday they would see what he was trying to get at and finally realize he had a point to throwing them together like this. They had so much in common. If they would only calm down long enough to talk for two seconds he just knew they would absolutely adore each other as much as he adored them both. Unfortunately they hadn’t calmed down since they entered the dango shop and the owner was starting to look like he couldn’t decide whether to ask them to leave or to cower behind his own apron.

“It’s only right for me to have the honor,” Madara spat. “I’m the eldest.”

“You may be my elder but no one’s ever accused you of being my better,” Tobirama snapped back. “It’s not like you paid for them!”

Not that Hashirama could blame the owner, really. The poor soul was a civilian, woefully unequipped to deal with the killing intent leaking out of both of the men sitting with their Hokage. Sighing deeply, Hashirama solved the argument of who would get the last stick of dango by snatching it up himself and popping it in to his mouth. Truthfully he was already full and it was likely that this last stick of sweets would give him a bellyache but he figured that was better than continuing to sit here and listening to them squabble.

Chewing slowly, mentally giving his stomach a quick pep talk to warn it of the incoming extra food, Hashirama enjoyed the few moments of silence as both Madara and Tobirama watched him eat with matching expressions of chagrin. He knew exactly why they were looking at him like that. Equally competitive, they were both upset that he had just taken away the thing they’d been fighting over, thereby removing any chance for one of them to win the argument. They both detested the very idea of a tie when it came to their quibbles but Hashirama had already had quite enough for one day. In fact, he’d had quite enough to last him several lifetimes and he would be perfectly happy if they would never fight again. However unlikely that was. Since he had a few moments of peace anyway, he distracted himself from the inevitable bellyache by wracking his brain for a way to finally make these two boneheaded men just stop and talk like normal human beings for once.

The owner of the dango stall looked so relieved when they paid and left that Hashirama feared the man might faint. As compensation for the trouble they’d caused, he hurried his two companions away towards the training fields. A brilliant idea just occurred to him and he saw no point in waiting to put it in to action.

Somehow, he wasn’t sure how, the three of them managed to make it all the way to the farthest – and therefore most secluded – training ground without any new arguments cropping up. Oh they glared at each other of course and a few snide comments were tossed around but there was no yelling and Hashirama figured he could count that one as a win.

Upon arriving he spun around to face his brother and his friend and opened his mouth to announce the amazing idea he’d come up with. Before he could even get a single word out he was cut off as Tobirama huffed in snide amusement.

“You better hope he didn’t bring us out here to spar Uchiha. I must say, I wouldn’t mind the opportunity to grind that pudgy nose of yours in to the dirt.” Madara, of course, immediately bristled in response.

“As if you could! Bring it on Senju, I could take you any day!”

“Think so? I think you’re just a lot of big talk.”

“Well I think my nose isn’t pudgy!”

Running his hands down his face with a groan, Hashirama gave in before he could even try. It was easy to see that neither of them were in the mood to listen and he knew all too well how little effect his nagging would have once they actually started growing violent. Informing them of his idea could wait for tomorrow. Or never. Right now it seemed he would have to take action without letting them know what was going on first but that was alright. They were both very smart men, surely they would figure it out on their own.  

Almost as a sign of divine providence Madara had only just stepped closer to Tobirama, getting right up in his face, at just the same moment that Hashirama brought his hands together to mold his chakra. Neither of the men before him had enough time to react before suddenly the ground beneath their feet exploded with thick vines that wrapped about their bodies and trapped them in place – together. As they shouted in surprise the vines thickened and settled in to sturdy beams of wood holding them chest to chest no matter how much they struggled and swore.

With his hand on his hips, beatific smile in place, Hashirama looked at his work with satisfaction. They weren’t very happy about their situation obviously but he didn’t care one single whit about that. He had suffered through enough of their arguments so far. Let them suffer through the end of his patience now. They were going to see the light if he had to smother them both to get them there.

“Anija!” Tobirama hollered, spluttering out a mouthful of Madara’s hair. “Have you gone mad!?”

“What is the meaning of this, Hashirama!” Madara’s face was red with anger, his entire body practically vibrating as he tried to squirm. The wood held him fast but he looked ready to squirm all day if it freed him. It wouldn’t.

“Get me out of here, Anija!”

“No thank you,” Hashirama chirped. “Have fun you two!”

Feeling a lot more cheerful now than he had only half an hour ago, he tucked both hands inside his sleeves and strolled away, humming tunelessly to himself. Tonight was Mito’s turn to make dinner and he wondered if maybe she might be amenable to some ‘light exercise’ before she began cooking. He was so full from the dango that he could certainly do with working off some of the calories and that seemed to him a pleasant way to do so. Perhaps when his belly wasn’t feeling quite so heavy anymore he might check on his two favorite stubborn men but if they still weren’t getting along by then he was quite prepared to leave them out in the cold all night.

Strong shinobi were quite used to that type of thing and his precious people were all very strong shinobi.

Left behind, Madara and Tobirama shouted threats and insults at the man’s retreating back until long after he had passed out of sight. There followed perhaps a single beat of silence after the shouting finally died down before their glares turned to each other, so close their brows were nearly touching and the daggers they were trying to shoot at each other with their eyes were in true danger of piercing skin.

“You’re related to him,” Madara felt compelled to point out.

“Believe me, the second I get out of this mess and kill you he’s my next target.”

“Still experiencing delusions of grandeur? You couldn’t take me even if I had one hand tied behind my back, you frost-bitten stiff-necked worm!”

“Worm? Really? That’s the best you can do?”

“It’s hard to think with your disgusting face so close to mine.”

“Maybe if you had more than two brain cells to rub together they would work better under pressure.”

“Fuck you!”

“Go fuck yourself!”

Scrunching his face in to a bastardized cross between scowl and smirk, Madara lifted one eyebrow just to complete the look. “How would that even work?” he asked.

After a few seconds of blatant staring Tobirama determined that the other man was actually trying to figure out the mechanics of being told to fuck himself. It was like all the fighting energy in his body were put on pause for a moment while he thought hard about something that really didn’t deserve any thought at all. He couldn’t let that stand, of course. If the two of them were going to be tied face to face and he was required to stare at this idiot for kami only knew how long then the attention was bloody well going to stay on him.

“If you like I can draw you a very anatomically correct diagram once we get the hell out of this.” He tried for his usual confident leer and the expression was only mildly ruined by the heat of another body pressed so closely to his own. When was Hashirama coming back?

“Hmph.” Madara turned his nose up, gravity pulling the hair away from his face. “I don’t need any help from you in that department.”

“Which department was that? Learning how to better make a fool of yourself? I’m well aware of your skills there.”

There was no pleasure on earth quite like watching Madara attempt to flail as he usually did without being able to move any of his limbs. Several of the thick vines around them creaked as if in rebuke but none of them loosened so much as an inch. With the strength his brother usually put in to his jutsu, even without meaning to, Tobirama guessed that they could probably squirm and struggle until darkness closed in on them without ever making any progress. If they were going to get out of this they probably needed to work together. Life truly was cruel.

“Stop fidgeting,” he demanded. “We need to put our heads together.”

“I am not fidgeting! Obviously I’m- I’m- just shut up and do something!”

Grateful that at least his shins weren’t being kicked, Tobirama sighed. “That is precisely what I was trying to suggest. Doing something.”

“Then do it!”

“Maybe I would if you would help me!”

“Hmph!”

Dropping his chin back down brought a great deal of Madara's hair cascading between their faces in a most distracting manner but there wasn’t much he could do about it other than blow crossly from the corners of his mouth. Tobirama watched the bow shape his lips made until he realized what he was doing.

“If I know my brother then these are undoubtedly living vines. He has a terrible habit of leaving his chakra behind in everything. And watching. It’s quite invasive, actually.”

“What, so you’re saying he can probably see us right now?” Madara's eyes dipped to the wood, looking scandalized.

“Something like that,” Tobirama agreed. “Not see us exactly but more that they carry his will. It’s difficult to explain. That’s not my point; if we make an effort at least to get along I’m sure that will get us out of this and we can both pretend it never happened.”

That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say.

“Am I so disgusting to you that you can’t stand to even think about me!?” Madara glared as best he could with one eye now completely covered with hair. It was a rather decent look, actually.

“Have we not made our opinions of each other quite clear by now?” Tobirama asked. If he added enough scorn to his voice it might even have sounded close to his usual vitriol. Something must have wavered in his tone however as Madara looked away as though uncomfortable and mumbled something under his breath. Tobirama would have given half his chakra stores to know what thoughts were running through that impossible mind.

Though he waited no immediate answer came, which was probably for the best. Nothing good could possibly come from discussing the truth of how they interacted with each other on a daily basis. There were few things Tobirama thought he would enjoy less than having his motivations for certain behaviors questioned by one of the few people who were smart enough to figure out when he was lying. Madara was far from a stupid man. It was one of the reasons he made a surprisingly effective administrator.

It was also one of the reasons Tobirama found it so amusing when, like now, his cheeks dusted pink as his emotions rapidly overtook his rational sense. Riling him up was only too easy – he always did half the work himself in his own head.

“What do you suggest then?” It took ages for words to come but when they did Madara was all business.

“Do you have any control over your chakra?”

“Listen here Senju–!”

“Because I do not. Anija’s mokuton is capable of chakra blocking properties.” Tobirama leveled the other man with a judging stare. “If you will remember, that is how he was able to assist Mito in capturing the kyuubi.”

“Ah. Right.” Madara subsided, looking almost ashamed of his outburst.

Wishing dearly that he could fiddle with his hands as he so often did when thinking, Tobirama graciously decided he could let that go. No matter how easy it was starting a fight right now would not help either of them.

“So why don’t you think us out of here, genius boy?”

Exceptions could be made to good judgement, however. Tobirama narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t know, idiot, why don’t you do that yourself?”

“Oi!”

And just like that the tentative quiet was broken. Just like every other time they got anywhere close to their own version of reluctant peace it lasted no more than half a minute before the two of them began shouting in each other’s faces again. It was the same old song and dance. Everything led back to violence with them.

Well, it led back to aggression which all too often paved the way for violence. Considering their restricted positions Tobirama hadn’t expected any sort of violence at the moment and watching Madara struggle to free his limbs could have almost convinced him to show a little gratitude to his brother for trapping them so well. Almost. Whatever good will he might have had immediately crumbled to dust when the vines around their bodies shifted ever so slightly to bring them even closer together. It was a clear message from Hashirama that they needed to get along, a message that he would have been much more likely to heed if not for one thing.

Now they were kissing.

Head bowed forward as he tried to butt the Senju annoying him, Madara's face was in just the wrong spot when Tobirama was shoved forward, pressing their lips together with mockingly gentle pressure. Immediately, understandably, both of them froze. To Tobirama’s horror he found himself unable to look away as his mind automatically began cataloguing new and interesting details about a face he tried so hard not to notice on most days.

It was only when Madara's face achieved a very special shade of red unique to him alone that both of them were jolted back in to motion, twisting their faces apart to gasp for air.

“WHAT THE HELL!?” were the man’s predictable first words.

“That clearly wasn’t me!” Tobirama insisted.

“You- you kissed me!”

“I did not!”

Somehow Madara looked even more scandalized. “And you didn’t even mean it!?”

“…what?”

“Cruel! Indecent!” Unaware of the strange looks Tobirama was giving him Madara ranted on in high dudgeon. “It’s terrible enough of you to take advantage of me at such a moment but to mock me for the things I can’t control, I never knew you were so terrible! Just because I have these damnable feelings does not mean I’m going to let you play with me for your own amusement!”

“Feelings?” Shock kept him frozen barely half an inch from the other’s face but Tobirama couldn’t think clearly enough to try for more distance.

His confusion went unnoticed.

“Obviously! Don’t pretend that wasn’t deliberate! If you knew how I felt about you then you could have at least just ignored me instead of seeking me out all the time to be mean! Always so mean and sarcastic!”

“You’re mean and sarcastic too!” he couldn’t help pointing out.

“Well it’s just to throw you off the scent!” Madara swallowed, adding at half the volume, “I don’t deal with emotions very well.”

“Tell me about it,” Tobirama murmured faintly.

For a long time they merely hung suspended and stared at each other again. None of the red had faded at all from Madara's cheeks but in light of these new discoveries Tobirama could finally admit to himself that maybe – maybe­ – he sort of thought it was a cute look. Madara had a lot of cute looks, most of them achieved when he was flailing about reacting poorly to his own emotions just as he’d said.

And wasn’t it just their luck that the exact same thing Tobirama had been doing to guard his own heart, Madara had been doing as well? Sometimes it felt like the two of them were damned to miscommunicate about everything important.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he offered finally. “You don’t mentioned anything about being stupid and I won’t mention anything about being stupid. Got it?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Madara scrunched his face together in confusion.

Rather than waste time explaining Tobirama did as he’d been denying he wanted to do for months, leaning forward that precious half inch and kissing the older man as best he could from such an awkward position. For the short few seconds that it lasted it was nice. Pleasant. Warm and gentle, nothing they had ever dared to be for each other before and everything they had both been quietly dreaming of. Those moments stretched out in to blissful eternity before they were so rudely interrupted as the vines holding them together trembled and released without warning.

They went down together with sharp cries of dismay, the ground rising up to meet them even as the mokuton almost seemed to shrink in to itself and wither. If the wood had a mouth it would not have been surprising to hear it whimper. As it was all that could be heard in the empty training ground was the grumbling of two men not at all happy to have their intimate moment ruined.

“Let’s kill him,” Madara grunted from where he lay sprawled out on his back glaring up at the sky.

“Maybe later,” Tobirama said. “I think we have more important things to talk about first.” He let his head roll to the side, watching Madara do the same and attempting a smile when their eyes met. “My place or yours?”

“Here’s fine.”

With no more warning than that Madara rolled, one leg swinging up and over until he sat astride Tobirama’s hips, leering down at him with all the confidence that put such a delicious swagger in his walk everywhere he went. He didn’t seem particularly worried about the possibility that someone might chance upon them out here in the open but then Tobirama was hardly going to be the one to put a stop to things now. Burying his fingers in all that wild dark hair and pulling their lips back together was a much more interesting use of his time and it also came with the unexpected bonus of hearing a low rolling moan as it rumbled up through Madara's chest.

And as it turned out the man was right. Right here was just fine, a fine place to start channeling their passions in to something they could both enjoy.

On the other side of the village Hashirama sat up in his bed with both arms hugging his own chest, shivering while his wife pet his hair soothingly and crooned in his ear. For the fourth time in a row she asked him what was wrong and finally he managed to swallow past the lump in his throat to answer.

“I felt them kissing!” he cried. “It was horrible!”

#rae writes #art by copyninken #madatobi #madara #tobirama #hashirama #fanfiction #fanart #madatobi gift exchange

[shewhowillnotbenamed1]

A Game

Very random. Probably the most random ever... I have no idea how or why this happened. (Yes, I do, I was forced into a Super Bowl pool and I know nothing about football...) So, this is my revenge. 

-----------

The automated double doors to the living room split open. And the resident sorceress emerged. She made her way down the stairs and trekked silently over to the television.

"Raven!" The pale girl turned around with a start. Her back went rigid. Purple hair moving around her face.

"Well, hello to you too." She replied with a cool purple brow directed at Beast Boy.

"Hello, Friend Raven." Starfire smiled. Beckoning her from her spot on the floor with Silkie.

Raven gave her a nod. She had come here with a different agenda. "Raven, girl, come on." Cyborg moaned as he moved his head to try to see around her.

"Raven!"

And this time she had a ready glare.

"What?" She snapped, feeling her temple start to throb.

"You're trying to walk in front of the TV!" Beast Boy exclaimed, his voice increasing in pitch as he threw up his arms. No pretenses or subtlety. Of course it was about television.

What was new?

"I'm just going to walk over and get my book." Raven explained calmly. "I left it here last night." Though she hardly needed to explain herself to a sports obsessed idiot. But here she was.

And as expected, the green man launched into a tirade. She inhaled and exhaled, as she waited for it to pass.

"This is the Super bowl, Raven." Garfield told Raven as if she didn't understand.

"So you've been saying all week in anticipation of the event." Raven had to point this out.

"The Super! Bowl!"

At this, she couldn't resist rolling her eyes. Raven almost wanted to laugh at how ridiculous he was acting. About a sporting event. Although, it was Garfield, after all. "You're repeating those two words like they're supposed to mean something."

Cyborg's jaw dropped. "The culmination of a season of football is a celebration! It has it all: drama, incredible commercials, a half-time show?!" Cyborg explained ecstatically. She knew how much football meant to him. It was particularly special given his past. Though, it was still not her first choice to dedicate hours of her life watching men toss a ball around a field.

The curly, red-haired alien smiled as she interjected. "I do greatly enjoy the commercials and the musical act." Starfire admitted. "Though, I must confess, I do not entirely understand the mechanics of the game." Beast Boy gave her a strange look. She blushed sheepishly and glanced at the mechanical Titan. Cyborg shook his head with a smile, and took the tanned woman under his wing. To explain the rules of football - again. This time with charts and diagrams.

Beast Boy turned back to Raven with a sigh. A muscular green arm moving, as he drew a hand down his face. "The point is we need to optimize viewing time," his emerald eyes were insistent. "This only happens once a year."

DVR and modern conveniences aside, she failed to see the point of the fanfare. "Well, so do major holidays and I don't see you making as big a deal about them..." Raven pointed out. "You actually make a bigger deal about fake food related holidays than real ones." National Croissant Day came to mind.

"The Super bowl is a holiday!" Beast Boy and Cyborg exclaimed simultaneously.

Raven's tone went completely devoid of emotion. And her pale face became grave. "How sad for the rest of the world to not have this particular sport on their roster." Not like America had rugby or cricket.

"Wait a minute, you have powers, you couldn't just magic it?" Beast Boy and his one-of-kind logic. He really was a special kind of a human being.

"You mean move it with my mind? It's called telekinesis." She held out a palm. Using her dark energy to draw the book to her. But not before pausing. To linger for three seconds longer than necessary in front of the flat screen.

"Raven?!" Beast Boy and Cyborg yelled. With the way they had just acted, one would have thought it was life or death. Not just another sporting event in an endless cycle of seasons. It was marketing. And it was consumerism at its finest. And it was America.

"Sorry. Lost focus." She tapped her temple and sauntered over to the open floor kitchen. "Enjoy your holiday." She called over her shoulder. Behind a purple shoulder length curtain, she could see Star had leapt up and tackled Cyborg with a loud laugh. And a louder, resounding thud. Her teammates were something else. Though, one didn't need to look too close to see the tiniest of smiles had taken up residence on her face.

Tiny, but it was there.

The Titans. As it was, they were her team.

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

"Hey, Raven." A deep voice called out from behind a laptop. And she could feel a calming, pleasant wash over her. Even though he was working, instead of watching the game.

"Dick," Raven offered in greeting. She made her way to the fridge. Perusing the shelves, she noticed that the fake meat and fruit never seemed to deplete as quickly as everything else.

Sharp blue eyes lingered on her body, bent toward the refrigerator. "Sorry about them..." There was a long pause in the typing, as a hand ran through tousled black hair.

"Please." The rush of cold air stilled. As the door closed. "It's the Super Bowl." Raven reminded him, imitating Beast Boy. With a mock-outraged tone. Before a flat one returned. But with a witty edge that seemed reserved for their talks. "They do this every year, so I do this every year. It's tradition."

Nightwing smiled at this. "Well, traditions can change." He looked away from the computer completely for a moment to take her in. "One did."

"The fact that you're here and not in Gotham?" Raven quipped sardonically.

"No - not that." He replied, with another bright grin. "You're actually the one who did."

"I... did?" Raven placed the piece of fruit on the counter-top. He paused for a long moment. Regarding her with his cerulean orbs. A familiar warmth flooded the air. She could feel strands of his brilliant aura reaching. Stretching out like webs to catch her own. But, at the last moment, it hesitated. Then, pulled back, tight to his body.

"It's... the first year you participated in the Teen Titans Super Bowl Pool." Nightwing offered. And shook his head at her, as if finding this hard to believe.

"That is true." She gave him the faintest of smiles. "But, so did you." She nodded at him.

"Yes, I usually do." He coughed. "Though, I saw that you had the same team to win as I did." That was surprising. She hadn't noticed. Raven didn't really care for the choices, having little interest in the outcome of the game. And she suspected Dick didn't either.

Raven tucked her arms over her navy blue shirt. She didn't know why she was explaining all this to Dick, but she wanted to. "You know... I don't normally get invested in the game." He nodded. "But Cy insisted... Plus, I don't have to actually watch football to participate."

"Cyborg is right, Raven." Nightwing agreed. "And thankfully, you don't have to watch the game to eat the food he made." She could tell Dick was grateful for that fact. "Were you actually in here to sneak some?" That sounded downright conspiratory.

Raven gave him a flippant stare. Pausing for several breaths, she glanced at the trays of greasy wings, burgers, and nachos.

"Hmm." She drew in a breath as if finding it difficult to decide. "Probably just this." She held up an apple.

"Okay, yeah..." The vigilante sounded slightly disappointed. Almost as if he wanted her to eat with him. "Right. Of course."

"I'd offer you one, but..." She pointed at the plate in front of him.

"Oh, this? This... is for Beast Boy." Dick said. He watched her closely. The corners of his mouth coming upward, as he dared her to refute that statement.

"Uh huh..." She mentioned nothing about the burger that was clearly made with ground meat. His humor was very off-brand at times. She certainly didn't mind it - though she could never tell him.

"You're not the only one who can do sarcasm around here." Raven watched the sparkle of bright blue. She could feel some more emotions rolling off him in waves. Strong ones.

"Noted, Boy Wonder." The pale girl shook the apple after she rinsed it. "At this rate, I'll have to find a new thing..." She shrugged. "Later, Dick."

There was the barest bit of regret in his voice. It was masked by the easygoing tone he managed to muster up, as he bode her farewell. "Bye, Raven."

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

Dick knew she didn't want to be bothered. But, he still had to try. He stared at the name plate labelled RAVEN as he knocked. At least when Raven opened the door, she didn't seem irritated. She almost looked relieved that it was him, and no one else.

"Raven," Dick tried. "I was wondering if you were coming back to watch with us."

"Probably not," She said bluntly. At times, he admired how blunt she could be. It did make for an interesting challenge.

"Oh. That's too bad." He blurted.

Her eyes flashed with the faintest amusement. "Dick - what's up?" She could most certainly tell what he was feeling. He wasn't hiding it very well. The fact that he was longing for something. For her company.

"I wanted to watch the game with you." He told her. His eyes sliding over the floor, before they came up to meet her own.

It was a lie.

He only wanted to watch her. To get lost in her - in this.

"I may be in the pool, but I still don't do sports." A very Raven answer. But, he anticipated it. Dick just hoped she wouldn't say no.

"Then... I'll do whatever it is you do during the Superbowl." Truthfully, he didn't care much for the actual game. So much as spending time with his team. And Raven. His team did include Raven. He walked into the dimly lit space, hearing the door close behind him.

"But, Dick, it's once a year." She said sarcastically. Her eyes glimmering in the dark.

"I know." Dick took another step closer.

"And the rest of your team is currently in the living room consuming enough grease to flood the city."

"I know."

"Alright. But I should warn you - you should know..." Raven started in that vague mysterious way of hers. "There is one thing you should know about this 'American holiday'."

Oh?

"I've heard stories, and I don't think you could shock me." Dick told her. "But you're welcome to try."

He could swear he saw her blush for a moment. But then, it was gone."There is an overwhelming amount of testosterone in the air on this day."

"I... don't follow." He didn't expect her to say anything like this. What was she getting at?

She elaborated in her low voice. "On this day, the concentration of testosterone in the city - and most of America reaches a fever pitch."

"Raven what are you saying - exactly?" He watched her closely. Still not understanding. Or perhaps understanding too well.

"We empaths have a holiday of our own. We call the Superbowl a Nexus... Save for the fact that it gets relatively untapped." She raised a brow. "Partners typically don't reap the benefits..."

"That isn't Valentine's Day?" Dick came back to himself for a moment to mumble stupidly.

"No." She gave him a light chuckle. "Surprisingly not."

"Doesn't it depend on whether a particular team loses or not...?"

"Touche, Dick... But, no." Raven's hands moved to her hips, as she shifted her weight. "On such a day, there is a risk of tapping into the Nexus. Channeling it - directly or unconsciously. Usually I am not concerned. But with you here... In my room... "

"I want to stay." He said without pause.

"You can say that, but you don't know. I'm not going to be as in control as I usually am." Raven replied. Though she didn't seem bothered. He could swear she wanted him to stay. "I'll be a bit more aggressive than you're used to. And you'll feel it too."

Dick took a step closer and shook his head. "I'm staying with you."

And that was all it took for things to turn.

Her emotionless expression shifted. The purple depths stirred. As the eyes that held but an occasional flicker of daring. A hint of mischief. A tiny tinge of sadness. They turned as a thirsty stare took over. Her pupils dilated. She watched his body movements openly. "And I'm..." She traced his face and weaved his hair between her fingers. She gripped it, bringing him closer. Her tone sultrier and raspier than normal. "I'm going to kiss you now, Dick."

"Oh..." Dick whispered. Unable to take his eyes off her. "Raven..."

"I want the taste of your lips..." Her porcelain nose caressed his own. The words brushing over his cheek.

"Yes..." He looked like he was in awe. Under a spell. "I want to kiss you." He licked his lips.

Her hands escaped the strands of night. Raven fingered his neck, as she drew her body into him. Right up to his firm chest. The pale lids started shutting and a steady journey to his mouth started. A deep, desperate inhale as they touched. He groaned into her fullness. Those soft, incredible lips moving with his. Her cool hands were fondling him over the tight black t-shirt he was wearing. Dick's hands tried not to stray too far from the middle of her back.

And of course - they failed.

It wasn't long before they ventured. They were exploring her waist and hips. Touching the space where her shirt rode up, feathering the sliver of skin. When Raven finally stopped, for a breath, she blinked to refocus the hazy purple. And gave him a little smile. He could see just a bit of smugness on her part, as she could tell how much this was affecting him too. But she didn't mention it.

"Wow, we've..." He panted, staring at her. She was now laying on her side on the mattress. "Never done that before."

She whispered, "I know." Nibbling his bottom lip, naughtily. "It's true we'd never really kissed before. Not properly..." Her hand cupping his cheek as she stroked his lips sweetly. It took everything he had to stop. Yet, he only managed to steal back an inch.

"I know... But... I wanted to." He had wanted to kiss her properly for ages. They'd a few close calls. Several. And then there was Christmas... Nervous, obligatory pecks under the mistletoe, with their teammates around. Watching and judging. But that hardly counted.

"Wanted to?" The pale fingers gliding down his earlobe. He shivered. And sighed. He took a deep breath. "Are you not enjoying this?"

"Of course, I am. It's great. So great... Too great." And then a shaky, wavering smile took up residence on his face. This was such a contrast to how she normally was. "I know why, but sometimes you just feel...distant. More than distant - removed."

A hand was on his face as she spoke. "This goes without saying, but it's not you." Raven told him in a soft voice. "If anything, I've probably been more so... because I do want to - be around you. Often."

Dick kissed her hard, until they were both panting and shaking. "Then, promise me."

"A promise?" Raven asked, her eyes flickering playfully. "What do you propose?"

"Promise me when the Nexus is over - we're not." He urged her. Dick wanted her to need him for something. To seek solace with him. In him. "Come find me, when you want to talk. Or when you need me." Sliding his fingers through her hair. "Please... I can't imagine not touching you like this... Not kissing you."

He groaned gutural, as her mouth took him over. "I promise, I'll find you for another talk." Raven's hands stroked up and down his abdomen, as her lips parted. In wonder. About his body. She was wondering about what lay beneath. He didn't want her to wonder anymore. Dick caught the cotton fabric of his shirt in his fingers and stripped it off. Cool hands were on his skin immediately. Followed by her lips on his. And the stroke of a skilled tongue.

She was straddling him on her bed, as they kissed. His palms were lost in the sea of her shirt. He was longingly fingering the indents right above her butt.

But then...

"Raven?!"There was a knock at the door.

Starfire squealed. Informing her, animatedly. "Raven - the pool, you have won!" And then, she paused. "Raven?"

Dick grinned, as she rolled her eyes. Raven and Nightwing stared at each other. He knew she hadn't won, because he had. This push and pull between them. Between their lips and bodies. Their connected souls... It was the only game he had ever been intrigued by. 

The enigma that was her.

#robrae #me #random #raven roth #nightrae #dickrae #fanfic #fanfiction #dick grayson #robin raven #teen titans #titans #dc #superbowl2020 #Can't believe I wrote this?! #I hope this isn't terrible! #I need to sleep... #Nightwing

[simkjrs]

fic: see you in the dark

chapter ii: remember to be conPSIentious of your powers!

saiki kusuo no psi nan x worm | saiki kusuo & taylor hebert | 3k

------

It turns out that Hebert can look after herself, and bugs are a terrifying weapon. I stopped watching after she started going for the privates. It seems that for all the mythos that surrounds him, Lung is still weak in all the normal places.

It sure takes some guts to aim for the crotch of the most notorious gang member in the city, Hebert. I underestimated you.

The next school day, Hebert shows up barely any worse for wear. Good for her. There she goes back to her locker with her head down. There goes one of the bullies trying to trip her. You know she took down a notorious gang leader this weekend? Just what do you think you’re going to achieve? She could crush you in an instant.

<Endure it, Taylor. Don’t retaliate. You’re better than them.>

... Well, it’s not as funny when I have to hear her thinking like that all day.

She’s so responsible about using her powers it’s honestly depressing. She refuses to use her abilities against any of her bullies because it would be unfair, and it’s wrong to use your powers like that, or something. It’s really not, Hebert. I use my powers for personal gain all the time. You should do something about the “Trio” already so I can stop tying their shoelaces together when they try to approach.

Hebert closes her locker door and raises her head as I’m walking. We make eye contact. Hey. Are you okay? That’s an impressively dead look on your face. Your eyes are almost as dull as mine. — Nevermind, they’ve brightened the tiniest bit. Why.

“Good morning, Saiki.”

Good morning. I nod cordially at her. Social interaction of the day achieved, I continue walking to the next classroom.

— Tch, those annoyances are approaching again.

Not that it’s my business, since Hebert seems determined to handle the situation by herself, but the universe ought to give her a break. She just took down a notorious gang leader. Give her some breathing room. I’ll just backtrack a few steps and tap Hebert on the shoulder.

Hebert blinks at me. “What is it?”

I jerk a thumb over my shoulder, turn, and walk away down the hall. After a moment of hesitation she follows me down the corridor, just in time to avoid Barnes and her cronies spotting us by the lockers.

<That was good timing. If I’d stayed there, Emma would have come to bother me again. — Wait, did Saiki know she was coming? Is that why he called me here?>

Stop being perceptive. I forgot you could keep an eye out on everything with your bugs. Tch, it goes to show I shouldn’t poke my nose in where I’m not needed. Now I have to come up with an excuse.

I turn around to face Hebert.

<His expression is as serious as ever. I can never tell what he’s thinking.> Good, let’s keep it that way. <It seems like he had something to talk about, after all. Guess it was just lucky timing.>

I reach into my pocket and pull out a piece of paper, etching onto it with thoughtography as I do. Hebert unfolds it, eyes flicking across the page.

“You want to study together this weekend?”

<Is he serious?> You don’t have to sound so disbelieving. Just say no if you don’t want to. That would be more convenient for me, too, since this is just a random excuse. <Do we even share any classes besides Parahuman Studies? What’s he getting out of this?> Absolutely nothing, so it’s okay to turn me down. <He doesn’t feel sorry for me, does he?> Anyone normal would feel sorry for you if they saw what a daily ordeal your school life is. Don’t take it so personally. — Actually, feel free to. Hurry up and say no already. <I don’t need his pity. If he feels sorry for me, then he should help me do something about the Trio.> See? There you go.

<But I shouldn’t burn any bridges unnecessarily. He’s the only one to reach out to me after Emma started her bullying campaign.> Wait, no. Stop being reasonable. Go back to the prideful paranoia. You’re not doing me any favors, here. <Besides, it’s possible he just wants a friend, too.> Absolutely not, who do you think I am?

“Okay, that’s fine.” <If he wants to hang out, I guess it couldn’t hurt.> “Where do you want to meet?”

What did I just say.

<Why does he have such a pinched look on his face. Was this a pity thing or a prank after all?>

Good grief.

I indicate with pen on paper that I would like to meet at the public library on Saturday. She asks if 2pm is fine, and if it’s okay for her to leave early, because she has business to take care of. By which she means parahuman business. I really don’t want to hear what bad ideas she’s going to get up to, so let’s just move the conversation along for now.

“Okay,” says Hebert. “What’s your phone number? I’ll call you if anything comes up.” <Like if I have to go out in costume earlier than anticipated.>

Ugh. This is why you shouldn’t have said yes, Hebert. I write on the paper.

“You don’t have a phone?” <Huh. Didn’t think there was anyone in the same boat as me.> “That’s fine. A landline is okay too.”

Damn it.

“You don’t have one of those either?” <What kind of place is he living in…?>

Please don’t start questioning my living conditions. I’ll just write something down to alleviate her concerns.

“Oh, an apartment without a landline?” <And no cellphone on top of that. It must be hard.> No, it’s perfectly fine. I don’t want anyone contacting me. “Then I’ll email you if anything comes up. Is that fine?”

I nod.

“Alright. I have to get to class now, but thanks, Saiki. I’ll see you in Parahuman Studies.”

<It’s strange that he doesn’t have any kind of phone at all, though. Is everything okay financially? His clothes seem fine, but you never know…>

What a pain. Looks like I’ll have to take additional steps to integrate into this world, so I won’t draw suspicion so easily. Acquiring fake IDs was already annoying enough, and now this too?

You may be wondering why I procured myself some ID papers. It’s because I needed it to register for school. But why would an esper like myself bother enrolling in school again, when no one in this universe had to know I existed?

It’s true, I could have had complete freedom of time if I hadn’t committed to school. But you can only read books alone in your house for so long before you start to get bored. It was nice to have a few weeks by myself, but it felt weird not having a school routine.

Going to school keeps me somewhat occupied and reminds me what it’s like to have people around. To be clear, I didn’t register for school because I wanted company. I’m already so different from normal human beings that spending time with humans doesn’t mean anything. It’s like asking if you’d prefer spending time with a monkey in the next room over or not. I’m just here because I’m bored and I like to stick to my habits.

School comes with its own share of annoyances, although they’re much more serious than the gag series I’ve spent most of my life living. It’s none of my business, but if things keep being this bothersome, I might have to do something about it soon.

Hopefully Kuusuke will hurry up and find me soon so I can stop getting dragged into the circumstances of this world.

——

Hebert isn’t in Parahuman Studies. It only takes a quick skim of the minds near me to find out why.

“Oh, Saiki, it looks like Hebert ditched you today. Too bad. She’s such a horrible partner to work with, isn’t she?” Your words wouldn’t be the least bit convincing even if I didn’t know you were the one who made her upset enough to leave campus, Barnes. “If you want, you can sit with us to work.”

She smiles at me in what she thinks is a charming manner. I can’t tell, since right now she just looks to me like a diagram of the human muscular structure you’d find in a medical book. <Take the hint. Taylor isn’t worth your time.> What does that make you. Chopped liver? <I wouldn’t pay attention to him if not for the fact that he’s Taylor’s assigned partner. If I can lure him away from her, she’ll be devastated. We could even keep him in the group afterwards. I mean, once you look past those weird green glasses, even though he seems plain at first glance, he’s got a nice face.> No thanks. <It’d be better if he didn’t have such a blank expression all the time, though.>

Get a full load of my blank expression, then.

<This silence is dragging on too long. Is he.... judging me?>

Took you long enough to notice.

“It’s rude not to respond,” Barnes says.

I stare dispassionately at Barnes until she shifts uncomfortably. <Maybe Sophia was right.> “What, can you not speak or something?”

Sure, let’s go with that setting. I give her a disdainful look. Obviously.

<Why are you looking at me like that?! I’m one of the most popular, pretty girls in the school!> Is that so? I couldn’t tell from how rotten your inner self is. “Sorry, I didn’t realize,” Barnes says faux-apologetically. “How was I supposed to know if you didn’t even make an effort to tell me, though? Can’t you write, at least?”

How annoying.

“Did you just click your tongue at me?”

I’m hurt you would ever accuse me of such a thing. I write in my notebook and slide it across the desk towards her.

“You’re not interested in working with anyone? But you’re working with Hebert.”

Flat stare.

“--Oh, she was assigned to you. Right.”

<Hey, doesn’t that mean this guy is a total loner-type? Come to think of it, he didn’t do anything the other day when we were confronting Taylor, either.> Confronting? Is that what you call it? <All he did was look annoyed when we started talking to him. Ahaha, what a piece of work. He doesn’t care about Taylor at all.> I don’t want to hear that from you. <I don’t even have to do anything and he’ll leave her alone, too. But still…>

“My friends and I can still help you finish your work more quickly, though. Then you’ll have more time to yourself in class.”

<...It’ll be more satisfying if I’m the one behind it.>

How unpleasant. I emphatically tap the word “anyone” written on the page.

“Come on, you can’t go through school without making friends with anyone.” Try me. “It’s better to choose your friends early. You don’t want to get caught up by the wrong crowd.” Somehow, I don’t think your crowd is the right one, either.

Thanks for your concern, I write, but I can take care of myself.

Barnes purses her lips. “Well, if you’re sure,” she says in a tone of voice that clearly says she doesn’t believe me. “But the invitation is open if you ever change your mind, ‘kay?”

She smiles at me before making her way back to her group of friends.

<Let’s see if we can’t arrange for him to learn what this school is like…>

What are you, a delinquent gang leader? I never thought I’d miss the days of PK Academy, but it would be so much less troublesome if the worst personality anyone here had was being a tad too obsessed with romance.

Not that it matters. Whatever Barnes tries, it’s not like there’s anything in this world that could touch me.

——

Because Barnes and her coterie were laughing about it in their heads all period, it’s easy to find the dumpster in the back of the school where they tossed Hebert’s backpack.

It stinks out here, and Hebert’s textbooks are all ripped up. Her art project is smashed to pieces, too. Barnes sure didn’t hold back.

The backpack and textbooks are easy enough to restore to their original state. The art project is a different matter. Checking it with my psychometry, it seems Hebert didn’t finish it until late last night. My restoration ability only reverts an object to its state from twenty four hours before; if I turn back the clock on the art project right now, it’ll be restored to a state from before she completed it. I’ll have to wait to restore it until later tonight.

So here I am, lying on my bed with Hebert’s stuff tossed by all my books. What to do. I could drop it off outside her house, but if I do it anonymously it’ll raise all kinds of questions and if I do it in person I’ll have to explain how I knew where she lives. I could just hand it off to her at school, but…

I have a sudden, horrible vision of Hebert thinking that we’re friends, and immediately reject that path. Absolutely not.

I’ll just put her backpack in her locker so she’ll find it before class. That’ll also raise all kinds of questions, but way less than finding it outside her house.

Now, as for the other problem…

Barnes and her friends are popular, and they’ve got plenty of people who are willing to do them a favor. Annoyingly enough, Barnes’ network has talked about me enough in front of the right people that in a couple days, the ABB members at Winslow will start trying to recruit me. What a pain. And I’ve put in so much effort to fly below their radar, too.

It’d be easy to rebuff any attempt to recruit me, but that would just attract attention. Worse, if I show my skill, that might be even more motivation for them to keep trying. I’ll have to think of a way to avert the recruitment without making myself stand out.

That’s a problem for later, though. Right now, I’m more irritated that Barnes has caused this much of a problem for me, just because she wants to get at Hebert. Since recruitment usually starts off with friendly overtures, all she has to do is swoop in and pretend I’m solidly part of her friend group already to ward off any recruitment attempts, and then they’ll usually leave well enough alone. And then I’ll be so grateful for her help saving me from the big, bad ABB that I’ll actually consider her a friend… Not.

If she’d left me alone, I might not have done anything, but I won’t hold back now that she’s getting me involved.

Time to take her down.

——

The reason Barnes can get away with what she does is because of Shadow Stalker’s influence with the school administration. That means to dismantle the power structure, I have to knock Hess down.

First, let’s use thoughtography to create photos of the worst moments of bullying I’ve seen, with my clairvoyance or otherwise. Here’s one of Hess stomping on Hebert’s backpack. One of her pouring juice on Hebert with Barnes. One of… you know what, describing this is just depressing. The readers don't want to slog through a litany of events that'll make them lose faith in humanity. Just trust that I’ve captured some truly unpleasant moments.

Second, I’ll use my clairvoyance to look around in the school office for the budget records, and copy them down with thoughtography, too. Hm, quite a difference between what they’re actually doing and what they’ve reported. I’m sure the PRT will be delighted to learn this.

Third, I’ll make a map of Hess’ stashes of definitely not approved crossbow ammo, discovered when I used clairvoyance on her the other day. That won’t be enough evidence by itself, but if I attach a list of victims, locations, and times, hopefully the PRT will be competent enough to put the pieces together. It’s not an exhaustive list, just what I learned from using psychometry on the bolts in her stash, but it should be enough.

Fourth, a list of things they should check: Hebert’s stint in the hospital, the communications between Hess’ handler and the school administration, Hess’ phone, and the unpleasant emails that Hebert gets every now and then.

And a note on top: Your Ward is misbehaving. Clean up your mess.

Yep. That is a nice, succinct message that will get my point across with absolutely no problems.

As if.

This is one of the most annoying aspects of this world: the sheer paranoia around parahumans. Back in my original universe, people ignore strange happenings more easily, because they don’t believe in powers. Here, though? Powers are real and a fact of life. If I tried to use my hypnosis or mind control powers here, one of those “Thinker” parahumans would probably notice right away. No matter how I send this packet of information to the PRT, they’ll definitely suspect parahuman involvement, since quite a lot of this information should have been secure. They’ll be paranoid for days. They might even take my note as a threat.

Oh well, it’s not my problem. As long as I deliver it cleverly, they won’t be able to trace anything back to me, and I don’t plan on getting involved with them again after this either. If they spend a few months paranoid about a possible new threat, that has nothing to do with me.

So how to make sure that the PRT properly pays attention to this information when I deliver it? If I send it through the official channels, who knows how long it will take, and if I’m not lucky it’ll get lost or Hess’ handler will manage to bury it before it goes anywhere. On the other hand, I’d rather not deliver it directly to the heroes, either.

Let’s just do it like this then.

Altogether, the worth of these papers is about four dollars. So is this keychain I picked up from the side of the street. I’ll just turn invisible and go to the Boardwalk and toss this keychain over to the PRT headquarters floating in the bay, and then I can use my apport ability to exchange the keychain for the papers so that the papers arrive properly at their front doorstep. It’ll arrive with enough dramatic flair to make sure it doesn’t get written off, and I don’t have to interact with anyone. Perfect.

I toss the keychain across the water, but when I check with my clairvoyance, I see the keychain sinking down in the water instead of safely landed on the doorstep of the PRT like I intended. I didn’t throw with enough force? Damn, I can’t use my telekinesis to retrieve the keychain either, because I can’t use any powers besides telepathy while I’m invisible. I’ll have to look for something nearby.

There, a cheap ring being sold at a street stall. My apologies to the vendor, I’m taking this. Back to the beach. This time, I’ll throw with a little more force—

CRACK. BOOM.

I stare at the fading afterimage of a now-broken forcefield.

Shit.

Nothing for it now. I dash back home as fast as I can, and as soon as my invisibility wears off I exchange the packet of papers with the ring.

The ring appears in my hand, no problem. There, delivery successful. Err. Looking with my clairvoyance, it seems that the papers are half-embedded in the wall of the headquarters where the ring had previously buried itself inches deep. My bad. The forcefield breaking is my fault, so I’ll take responsibility. I’ll just fix it with my restoration ability…

Ah, wait, but restoring an object also restores everything it touches. If I restore the headquarters now, my delivery will go back to being blank pieces of paper, and it’ll all have been for nothing. Damn it, I should’ve fixed the forcefield before apporting my delivery over… although that would have required me to wait for my invisibility to wear off at the Boardwalk. Maybe I can exchange the papers and the ring quickly, restore everything, and then exchange them back? — No good, people are coming to investigate the papers already. If I apport right in front of them it might just make them panic more.

Good grief. I’ve made quite a mess for myself.

I’ll just have to make sure to fix the forcefield tomorrow… I’m sure it’s fine… They can live without their forcefield for twenty-four hours…

Oh, would you look at that, it’s just about time to restore Hebert’s art project. I’ll just go do that and put everything back in her locker.

Well, as long as that works out, hopefully today won’t be a lost cause.

#saiki kusuo no psi nan #worm web serial #crossover #simk writes #see you in the dark

[caelum-in-the-avatarverse]

Katara's still reeling after learning about bloodbending. Aang tries to help. 

~~~

This one's gonna have discussion of how bending can kill people and allusions to death and stuff, just fyi.

Enjoy!

~~~

“Teach me how to heal?”

Katara blinked a few times and looked up at him. It took her a few seconds to focus on his face. “What?”

“Teach me how to heal,” Aang said again, and then he added, “please.”

She blinked again. “Why?”

Because you cried for hours last night. Because you kept apologizing to Yue. Because your hopes were completely shattered. Because I know how badly you wanted to learn Southern-style waterbending. Because one of your greatest heroes turned out to be the worst kind of villain. Because you’ve been staring at a field of fire lilies all afternoon. “You taught me how to fight...for obvious reasons. But...I know I’d prefer healing over fighting. And...I think we both could use it.”

Katara graced him with a weak smile. “Okay,” she said, straightening up. She already looked better at the prospect of a goal - a mission, something to make the world a better place. “Give me your arm.”

Sokka and Toph left them to it and stuck to the other side of their campsite, Sokka drawing out diagrams for sky bison armor while rattling off ideas, and Toph practicing her metalbending and telling Sokka that, as much as her skills were progressing, she would not be able to created mounted arrow-launchers, nor would they be able to train Momo to use them in time.

Katara spent the better part of an hour tracing her finger up and down her and Aang’s bodies, talking about the twelve standard meridians and chi flow and applying waterbending as a conduit. Aang soaked the information up like a sponge, watched Katara sink her focus into healing, and all the ways you could fix a person.

But eventually her words trailed off halfway through an explanation of how waterbending could keep a person’s heart beating, and she stared at her fingers hovering over Aang’s chest. “It’s...not so different, is it?” she whispered.

Aang took her hand in his. “It’s very different, Katara.”

She shook her head. “I just...can’t believe someone would use waterbending for something so evil.”

“I know,” Aang said gently. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s - we’re supposed to be better than the Fire Nation. Waterbending isn’t evil, it’s good.”

“No bending is good or evil,” Aang said. “It just...is.”

“I’ve never seen firebending used for good,” Katara said dryly.

“Kuzon used to make shapes with it,” Aang shrugged. “People, animals. They’d dance around the campfire. It was cute.”

She looked unconvinced.

“Anyone who knows enough about the human body to heal it is also going to know how to hurt it,” Aang said. “Bending is just an ability, it doesn’t have morals. What’s good and evil is people’s choices on how to use it.”

Katara sighed. “I guess I’m just...so used to the idea of fire being the element that causes pain,” she said. “I never thought water…”

Aang hesitated - but she looked so lost, and she’d cried so much last night, and he cared about her so much. He glanced towards Sokka and Toph, saw they were still engrossed in their own conversation, hopefully far enough away that Toph’s hearing wouldn’t pick anything up. He leaned closer to Katara and said, very quietly but all in a rush, “Airbending can be used to suck the breath right out of someone’s lungs.”

It took a moment for it to sink in, but when it did she stared at him, horrified. “...What?”

Aang hunched his shoulders a bit. “Yeah.”

“You can - ”

“I can’t,” he said immediately. “That’s - it’s forbidden, and even if it wasn’t I wouldn’t want to know how! But it’s...definitely possible. There were old stories. Legends.”

She took another moment to process it. “That’s... awful, Aang.”

“Yeah,” he said, and with a rueful grin added, “there’s reasons why we’re pacifists.” If you listen hard enough you can hear every living thing breathing together, Hue had said, back under the banyan-grove tree. The old Swampbender had no idea how true that had been for Air Nomads.

“I’d never heard that about Airbenders,” Katara said.

“It’s not like it was common knowledge,” Aang shrugged. “We didn’t even talk about it amongst ourselves much. I don’t think anyone even actually knew how to do it, just that it was possible.” Maybe a skilled master could have figured it out on their own, but none of them would ever have attempted it. And now there was definitely no one who knew how to do it - maybe no one who even knew it was possible, if Katara’s reaction was anything to go by.

If Aang never said anything about it, maybe no one would ever know again.

Aang had been grieving the loss of his people and the destruction of his culture for months, but if the knowledge of the asphyxiation technique disappeared, it would be one loss he wouldn’t mourn.

“Even knowing it’s possible is scary,” said Katara, who’d bloodbended a whole human fifteen minutes after learning the technique was possible.

“But we didn’t, Katara. We could, but we didn’t. It’s not the power that’s evil, it’s the choices you make in how to use it.”

Katara mulled it over. Eventually, she nodded, and they spent a long, silent moment gazing out over the field of fire lilies. The flowers were just as red and beautiful as they’d been in another field, several islands behind them now. Katara held a hand over the nearest flower, slowly moving her wrist and her fingers, and the lily’s petals opened and closed a few times, it’s leaves shifting in slow wavy motions.

It didn’t whither or dehydrate under her hand, but when she released it, the lily suddenly fell limp to the ground, unable to stand upright anymore, leaves and petals haphazardly splayed. Katara blinked. “I...must have hurt it somehow,” she realized, frowning. “Maybe I burst something inside.”

“It’s okay,” Aang said quickly. “It’s not like you bend plants much.”

“...Yeah,” Katara said after a moment. “You’re right, I don’t.”

At least it wasn’t a person, Aang didn’t say, because now was not the time to bring that up.

“They’re just flowers,” Katara said quietly. Sadly. She stared out at the fire lilies again. The field looked like a massive army of little red soldiers.

They were quiet again, for a little while. On the other side of the camp, Toph was telling Sokka that two horns was enough for Appa and they didn’t need to give him any more on his helmet no matter how cool he claimed it would look. It would not look cool, it would look stupid. She didn’t know much about looks but she knew for a fact she would be able to feel the stupid.

Finally, Katara sighed. “She didn’t even teach me any actual Southern-style waterbending.”

Aang wrapped an arm around her shoulders and thought of the way the nuns raised at the Western Air Temple had been able to walk around on the ceiling, perfectly upside-down with the rest of their home, how they’d laugh at anyone who attempted to mimic them, and how jealously they’d guarded that unique art. “I’m sorry, Katara.”

~~~

Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are appreciated.

Meridians are the paths chi flows through in the body, according to traditional Chinese medicine. I think when Katara attends that healing lesson, the dummy Yugoda is demonstrating on has the meridians carved into it. Also why did no one ever teach Aang healing I think he would've loved it and also I think healing deserves a bit more in-depth exploration as an art. The fantasy genre tends to just treat healing as another thing in the characters' bag of tricks and I'm getting tired of it.

Also I've spent all these years wondering "how did Sokka manage to make armor for Appa they didn't have a forge and we just see him working on it like once but it didn't make sense" and while I was writing this I was like "oh wait Toph can metalbend, duh."

It seriously kills me that Hama doesn't seem to have actually taught Katara any actual Southern Water Tribe techniques. Everything they talked about had to do with Hama learning to survive in the Fire Nation and pulling water from unconventional sources. No moves, techniques, or philosophies. So sad.

Also I kinda headcanon that Hama died very shortly after her arrest of either an aneurysm or a heart attack or something. It was Katara's first time bloodbending and she was under a lot of stress. :( I also don't think that the Gaang is aware of this - I think they high-tailed it out of Hama's village immediately. A bunch of disappeared villagers return home in the middle of the night with the old innkeeper in chains saying she's a witch who controlled them somehow and these strange kids saved them? That would probably launch an investigation, or at the very least a lot of questions, and no one knows Hama and Katara are Waterbenders. Bad enough some of the prisoners probably saw Toph bending her space rock into a key. The Gaang wasn't gonna wait around for someone to poke around the inn and find a flying bison.

Regarding asphyxiation, unfortunately for Aang, there actually is surviving literature regarding that old Airbender tale - a few mentions in anthropological texts, a few recorded bits of folklore, and some Sozin-era anti-Air Nomad propaganda. Fortunately, these records are really only known in academic circles, and even there it's pretty obscure knowledge. So just as long as no well-read martial arts experts with a deep appreciation/obsession over Air Nomad culture suddenly obtain airbending abilities, the knowledge of asphyixiation techniques is safely unusable! :D *cough*gdiZaheer*coughcough*

#kataang week #atla fanfic #avatar fanfiction #aang #katara #caelum writes

[politeanarchy]

Probably Explode or Something

This is the beginning of a story that I may or may not ever finish. It’s more or less completely silly. I’m putting it here (and a bit more of it on AO3) in case anybody wants a brief distraction from the big important stuff going on in the real world. It’s rated E, although this first chapter is pretty vanilla so far.

Chapter 1: In the beginning was the word, and the word was 'Oops'

Aziraphale was reading cookbooks and wondering if he should attempt foccacia when there was a jarring twang from the aether.

Normally, this was the kind of thing he would notice and ignore, as being background noise similar to the Soho traffic outside the bookshop. But this had been quite loud, and judging by the harmonics, it concerned Crowley in some way. Aziraphale closed his cookbook thoughtfully and reached out with non-human senses, as though sniffing the wind.

Hmm. Yes, something occult had been done to Crowley. It hadn't originated with him, and didn't seem strong enough to have come directly from Heaven or Hell, therefore the chances were good that he had been summoned. Probably by a human. Some foolish mortal hoping to liven up their isolation in quarantine?

No doubt he could cope with it adequately by himself. In fact, he would probably welcome the interruption to the hopeless boredom of the past several weeks. There was really no reason for Aziraphale to think he needed to get involved.

Aziraphale picked up his cookbook again and tried to focus on it. Did he have enough olive oil on hand? Plenty of sea salt, so that was all right. If Crowley had been summoned by a human, would they have used sea salt or just the regular kind? Would that make any difference to how difficult it was for him to get himself loose? All salt was sea salt, when you really got down to it, even the discount kind in the least-interesting box.

The cookbook was proving wholly inadequate as a distraction. He snapped it shut, and allowed himself to notice a series of agitated rippling twinges in that part of the atmosphere perceptible only to angels, demons, and the occasional witch. Aziraphale wondered if he had become more sensitive to Crowley since they had borrowed one another's bodies, or if he was only imagining it. In any case, he had to admit to himself that he would really like to investigate what was going on, rather than wasting the rest of the evening wondering. He could tell that whatever-it-was was no more than a few blocks away.

Besides, if a human was summoning demons in the middle of a pandemic, they were probably up to all sorts of no good. If nothing else, it probably counted as a breach of quarantine. It was therefore in line with both his celestial and earthly responsibilities to stop whatever was going on, before it caused trouble. Whether Heaven approved of his efforts or not, if there were demons were involved, he still considered it his job to thwart them.

"But I'm not going to set a bad example by just wandering the streets!" he said firmly, and instead, transported himself to the vicinity of the disturbance with a quick snap of his fingers.

It appeared to be a modestly-sized flat, with a general atmosphere of unwashed dishes and inadequate laundry. Furniture and miscellaneous clutter had been pushed against the walls to allow space for a large circle of occult symbols to be drawn with chalk in the middle of the room. Inside the circle, Crowley was sulking. Outside the circle there were a few candles; whether these were for ritual purposes or merely for setting the mood was not immediately clear. There was also a set of speakers playing music that Aziraphale couldn't identify.

"Crowley, are you all right?"

At the sound of the angel's voice, Crowley turned with an irritable flounce. He was wearing a black silk bathrobe over some kind of abbreviated undergarment, and was a much different shape than Aziraphale was used to.

"Oh, my dear, what has happened to you?"

"Nothing much, yet. Relax, angel. I'd be fine if I didn't look like Jessica Rabbit."

"Jessica who?"

"A character from a film. Not one you would have seen, I'm sure." Crowley shrugged, not his usual angular movement but a sultry undulation. "Don't worry about it."

Having satisfied himself that Crowley did not appear to be in any imminent danger, Aziraphale turned his attention to other important questions. "Who did this to you? Was it a human?"

"Yeah, some wannabe wizard who's evidently feeling a little lonely in lockdown." Crowley gave a derisive snort. "He ducked into the next room when you turned up. I imagine he wasn't too thrilled at the idea of more company. I hope he's putting some pants on."

Aziraphale's mind reeled a little at the possible implications of this, and then his attention was caught by a furtive suggestion of movement in the doorway. He made a sudden lunge in that direction, there was a brief scuffle, and then Aziraphale reappeared, frog-marching a pale, sullen young man in front of him. Fortunately for everyone concerned, the young man was wearing pants, however grubby and unflattering they may have been.

The angel walked him firmly across the room until he fetched up against a desk, on which was a book open to a diagram of the circle chalked on the floor. At the sight of the book, Aziraphale made a choked-off sound of astonishment, and bristled with righteous indignation.

"This is my book! You were one of the people who tried to rob my shop!" he spat furiously. "You must have picked this up when I was giving cake to your compatriots!"

The young man was clearly not prepared to deal with any of this. This was not how he had anticipated his evening turning out. He merely stood there, gawping helplessly.

Aziraphale was examining the diagram in the book, and the drawing on the floor, while simultaneously continuing to berate the human. "Look, you can see where he's used this set of runes to charge the circle. You should be extremely ashamed of yourself, young man." Aziraphale located the chalk and began scuffing at some of the marks on the floor. "I'm pretty sure I can do this and reverse the charges." He drew busily on the floor for a minute. "The idea of summoning occult entities all willy-nilly, for the purpose of...of...carnal gratification!" He nodded reassuringly at Crowley. "There, once I re-activate the circle it should send you home again. And I trust I will never catch you doing anything of this sort, ever again!"

The pale young man nodded feebly at this, then changed his mind and shook his head vigorously instead.

Aziraphale finished altering the chalk marks, tucked the book firmly under his arm, snapped his fingers decisively, and several things happened at once. The circle activated, with a faint glow and a low hum. Crowley started to shout "Angel, no!  Don't step in the—" and Aziraphale stepped into the circle.

Angel and demon disappeared as the aether did its twanging routine again. The young man exhaled slowly and sat down on his floor, vowing to be content with internet porn in the future.

Crowley and Aziraphale re-materialized in Crowley's flat, just as Crowley finished saying "...circle. Oh no." He slumped sadly onto his couch, pulling the silk robe around himself.

"I wanted to make sure you got home all right. I suppose it is breaking quarantine, although there shouldn't be any way for us to infect that human, or for him to infect us."

"It's not that." Crowley's robe had transformed into his more usual clothes, and he slouched into something approximating his usual sprawl, but with an undercurrent of more than the usual tension.

"I suppose I shouldn't have interfered at all, really. Presumptuous of me, to assume you need help extricating yourself from an, er, unsolicited booty call."

Crowley choked on whatever it was he'd been about to say next. "Angel! You can't just— How do you even—"

Aziraphale shot him a knowing smirk. "I work in Soho. I hear things."

"No, but the point is, I have a bad feeling you may have inserted yourself into the summoning ritual, when you did that bit of chalk-work back there."

"Oh. I hadn't thought about that."

"You didn't think about it, did you? You just filled in those runes with your own hand, then powered up the circle. Which, if I'm not mistaken, is what the ritual calls for."

"So? I sent you home. Here you are." Aziraphale sat down on the section of sofa opposite Crowley, and waved his hand in the general direction of the rest of the flat.

"You sent me home, and then transported yourself here as well. The part you're missing is that that particular ritual compels a demon—or other supernatural entity—to go to some specified place for a specific purpose. As you have so helpfully pointed out, it's a booty call. And, as a convenient little part of the deal, it fills said supernatural entity with raging uncontrollable lust. While also transforming them physically to make them attractive."

"Oh my. I suppose that explains your unusual appearance, earlier. Um. You're looking much more your normal self now. More, er, streamlined." Aziraphale gestured with one hand, indicating some sort of bodily contour.

Crowley winced, then grinned, or at least adjusted his mouth in such a way that his teeth were visible, tightly clenched together. "Yes. That got reversed, when you swapped the runes around. I'm well out of it, and glad of your interference in this particular case. But then. You summoned yourself. Here."

"Wait," said Aziraphale, as the penny finally dropped. "Are you saying that the spell is still in operation, only I'm meant to be the, well let's say the subject of it?"

"Yes," answered Crowley patiently. "That is what I am saying. I am also saying this might count as a problem."

(Read the rest of the chapter on AO3)

#good omens #fanfiction #aziraphale #crowley #good omens lockdown #demon summoning for fun and profit #demon summoning for carnal gratification #mistakes were made