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creative-caramel-coffee · 9 months

Note

Maybe R wandering around confused when sick and maybe they get lost for a bit so Wandanat are freaking out and trying to find R

Fevered Confusion

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 1K

Summary: With a high fever and a confused state reader wanders off freaking out her girls. Where did she go? Will they find her?

TW: Like one swear word, wandering off, fever

A/n this is cute. I like it lol.

It was hot. Too hot. In fact, it was scorching. Where was Wanda? Where was Natasha? Vaguely you remembered them saying something about getting soup and medicine but in your fever addled state nothing seemed very real. It was winter so how was it so hot? Winter. Yes, thats the solution.

Sitting up took a lot of effort as you peeled back the sweaty sheets. The wet cloth on your forehead dropped to the floor as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. Standing your legs felt weak and shaky as you slowly walked to the door. Once in the hallway you began to slowly make the walk to the elevator.

“Jarvis the roof.” You mumbled.

“It appears you are running a fever Ms L/n it would be unwise to enter the cold weather without a coat.”

“The roof.” You mumbled again.

“As you wish.” The AI said and the lift began to move. When the doors opened the crisp cool air of the winter winds hit you in full force and you shivered despite the heat crawling down your spine. Walking over you curled up in a ball with your back against the railing. Was it too hot or too cold? Whatever it was it wasn’t comfortable. You shivered again and hoped it would help the fever you knew you had. Slowly your eyes drifted shut, the exhaustion of doing anything other than lying in bed hitting you as you drifted off.

Meanwhile Natasha had just gotten back from the store with more medicine. Wanda had just finished making the soup and they met in the kitchen to gather the supplies before going back to your shared room. You had been sleeping when they left and were hoping to get back before you woke up. Carefully Nat opened the door Wanda was close behind holding a tray of everything you could ever need. Entering the dimly lit room Natasha took note of the lack of human shaped lump in the bed. She swore softly as she pulled the covers off completely. The bed was soaked in sweat meaning your fever had gone up. And if that alone wasn’t cause for concern the fact you weren’t here anymore certainly was.

“Jarvis when did Y/n leave?” Wanda asked growing slightly panicked at your absence. You were in no shape to defend yourself if needed.

“Ms L/n left the room approximately ten minutes ago.”

Wanda opened the door to the bathroom just to check you hadn’t fallen asleep on the floor there or something. When it was empty her concern only grew.

“I’ll check the lounge. You check the kitchen she might have slipped past us.” Nat said and Wanda nodded before taking off down the hall. The two girls both searched with no reward. You simply weren’t there. They had reconvened in the kitchen again and Nat had an idea.

“Jarvis, do you know where Y/n is?” Nat asked annoyed she hadn’t thought to ask the AI earlier.

“Ms L/n took the elevator to the roof around fifteen minutes ago.”

“Shit.” Nat swore. In your unstable state being in the cold for too long may not be good for you but it depended on how high your fever was. You were also in no state to be walking around anywhere let alone the roof where you may fall. Both girls rushed to the lift and ordered Jarvis to take them to the roof. As the doors opened Wanda was first to catch sight of you curled up and shivering. She rushed over with Natasha close behind. Wanda crouched next to you and placed a hand on your sweaty forehead. Your fever was still present and quite warm as she frowned at the touch. After a minute nat reached down and despite her small size sh scooped you into her arms in a princess carry. You muttered something they couldn’t make out and you snuggled your face into her chest. Nat chuckled softly.

“Silly girl.” She said worried at how warm you were. “Why did you come all the way out here hmm baby?” She asked and you nuzzled into her more.

“Come on let's get her back into bed.” Wanda said standing up and leading Nat over to the lift again. As they made their way back to your room, she held you close. Your soon drifted back to sleep in Natasha’s arms as she walked, the soft pace and slight rocking of her movements lulling you to sleep. Once back in your room Wanda used her magic to clean the sheets before Natasha set you back down in the nest of blankets and pillows. You stirred slightly and Wanda rubbed your arm to rouse you.

“Baby girl it's time to wake up honey it's time for some medicine my sweet.” She said and you groaned making nat chuckle again. You lightly slapped her hand and Wanda pouted when seemed to wake you up. Starting with getting a read on your temperature Wanda slipped the stick in your mouth only removing it once it beeped.

“101.7” she said frowning and nat grabbed the glass of water and tablets.

“Drink.” Nat ordered and handed it to you which you took with shaking hands. They watched you take the meds before Wanda began to pick up the soup. Based off how badly your hands were shaking she elected to feed you herself. Nat jumped onto the bed and wriggled up behind your o she was against the pillows. She pulled you so you were sat between her legs as she rubbed your back. Wanda sat on the edge of the bed and began to feed you the soup. You rested against Nat and in your fevered state giggled as Wanda began making airplane nosies. You were very childish when sick and both girls found it adorable as you opened your mouth for the soup before eating it with a dopy lopsided grin. Wanda wiped your mouth off and chuckled as you snuggled into Nat’s neck. Setting the almost empty soup to the side Wanda curled up with you and nat as you fell asleep in their arms. Fever or no fever they found you adorable and sweet.

MASTERLIST

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specialagentlokitty · 2 years

Text

Neil Melendez x reader - image of you

Hey, could I get a Neil Melendez x reader? With a prompt you like :3 have a good day :) - Anon💜

Staring at the doctor across the hallway, you leant back against the nurses station and took a sip from the cup in your hand.

“Staring at him won’t do much.”

You looked to your side and gave a small little shrug as you went back to watching him.

“I know, but at least I can burn the image of him into my brain so I don’t forget what he looks like.” You replied softly.

Claire sighed to herself and placed her hand over yours, taking the cup as she set it on the desk before turning you away.

“You won’t forget him.” She said softly.

“Claire, I’ve got an incurable disease that’s rapidly destroying my eyesight, in less than a year I won’t be able to see anything at all.”

“But you spent years with him, you already know what he looks like without having to look at him.”

You leant across the desk and rested your head in your arms.

“That’s why he’s pissed…” you whispered.

“Wait, what?” She asked.

You stood up, grabbing your cup as you gestured for her to follow you.

She did and you led her over to the waiting area, both of you taking a seat away from all the other people patiently waiting to be seen or to be told how their loved one was doing.

You set your cup on the floor next to you, and you clasped your hands together as tears started to burn your eyes.

“He’s pissed at me because I never told him about it… he only found out when I was here last week for a check up and he had to cover my usual doctor…”

“So that’s why he’s been ignoring you?” She asked softly.

You nodded your head.

“He’s pissed… and he has a right to be… I’ve known about this since I was a teenager… I’ve been dating Neil for nearly two years and I never told him…”

“Talk to him.” She gently urged.

You slowly stood up and grabbed your cup, watching as he walked away for his break with Doctor Lim instead.

“There’s no point, I’ve tried… look.. don’t tell him I was here, okay?”

With that you left and you went back home.

The Labrador you were training as a guide dog immediately latched to your side as you walked through the door and you just broke down.

Slumping down, back against the front door, tears streaming down your face as you heavily sobbed.

Marco sat next to you, resting his head on your arms as you gently held him.

Days turned into weeks, and you still hadn’t seen or heard from Neil, no matter how much you texted or called him, and finally you sent the message you had been dreading.

You’d woken up that morning, and the darkness in your vision was much worse than it was the day before, you struggled to see your phone, and it took ages for you to find anything.

You sighed to yourself, heavy heart but this was the right choice.

It was simple.

Six words.

You: I think we should break up

Setting your phone beside you, you wanted to cry, but you just didn’t have it in your anymore.

You wanted to, but you’d been crying for ages, and you physically couldn’t do it anymore.

You were trying to process so much that you just felt numb. You should’ve been upset about everything going on, but you just couldn’t feel it anymore.

Marco sat with you, letting out a small whine and you placed your hand on his head, letting him know you were okay.

Throughout the door, your sight got better but after taking a nap you wake up and you couldn’t see anything.

You started to hyperventilate, panicking and you tried to search for your phone.

You had no idea where you put it.

“Neil…!” You yelled softly.

You prayed maybe he just happened to come home, but of course there was no response.

Marco barked and jumped on the bed.

“Marco.. Marco phone…” you sobbed.

The dog rushed away and a few seconds later dropped something in your lap.

You picked it up and tried to figure out what to do.

“Siri.. call Claire…”

“Calling Claire…” the AI responded.

It rang a few times before she picked up.

“(Y/N)?”

“Claire I.. I can’t.. I can’t…” you sobbed.

“I’m coming.”

She hung up and you curled up into a ball, covering yourself up the with quilt

Marco whined and he laid next to you.

It felt like ages passed, and when the door opened he barked a few times but he never left your side.

“(Y/N)!”

Claire rushed into the bedroom and got the quilt off you.

“Come on.”

She stuffed some of your clothes into a bag, put your guide dogs harness on and pulled you up, passing you the handle before she took your other arm in hers.

“It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay.”

“I can’t see…”

“We’ll figure it out, okay?”

You sniffled a little and sat down, letting her out your seatbelt on you before closing your door.

The whole way she reassured you and let you know she was with you.

The moment you got into hospital you were rushed into a room and doctors started to preform tests on you.

You sat in the room, Marco laid at the side of your bed while you simply just laid on your back.

The door opened and you slowly sat yourself up.

“Claire?” You asked.

The door closed and you tried to figure out who entered the room.

“No.”

You froze for a second, and you turned your head down.

“Neil…” you whispered.

He walked over, and the side of the hospital bed dipped.

“What happened?” He asked softly.

“You’re a doctor… just read the chart…” you mumbled.

Neil sighed and he took your hand in his, giving it a light squeeze.

“Look, I was upset, okay? And I was going to come talk to you, but I’ve been working doubles for the past two weeks I haven’t had the chance. I was never angry at you sweetheart, I was just upset you never told me. Not until it was getting worse.”

You lifted your head, and he could see how red your eyes were from crying, how tired you were, but there was something else.

A glassy sheen over them, almost cloudy looking.

Reaching up with his other hand, Neil placed his hand on your cheek, and you leant into his touch.

“You’re still just as beautiful…”

You looked down.

“I.. I can’t see you…”

“You can, just not how you used to.”

Neil took your hands and placed them on his face, and your fingers started to trail along the skin.

You mapped out his face, imprinting the feel and image of him into your head.

You could tell his was smiling, the could feel the little crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the little dimples next to his lips.

After a few minutes you stopped and just held his face in your hands.

“How did you know I was here?” You asked softly.

“Claire rang me when she checked you in. She told me you couldn’t see anymore, and you were upset.”

You slowly nodded your head.

He placed his hands over yours and lowered them into your lap, then he slowly cradled your face and leant in.

You could feel his nose against yours, his breath on your lips.

“We’re going to get through this okay? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.” He whispered.

You nodded your head and he leant in, lightly kissing you for a second before he pulled away.

You immediately leant back in, kissing him again and he took this as a sign and leant into the kiss, smiling softly into it.

You smiled back and after what felt like forever you pulled away.

“Get some rest…” he whispered.

You nodded and laid down, you heard some shuffling, and Neil climbed over you and laid on the other side of you.

Picking your head up he rested your head on his shoulder and wrapped an arm around you while you shuffled into his side.

He smiled watching as you were in his arms.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you too…” you replied.

He kissed your head and closed his eyes, letting out a small sigh.

All that mattered to him right now was making sure you adjusted well, and letting you know he wasn’t going anywhere

#the good doctor imagine #the good doctor x you #the good doctor x reader #the good doctor #neil melendez #neil melendez x reader #Melendez x reader

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idontknowreallywhy · 6 months

Text

Estera - Ch 16 - Distraction

Developments develop. John lives to regret his eldest brother befriending his AI daughter. But can bagels ever be bad?

TW for sickness. This remains the only part of this entire story that could be viewed as a self-insert as I drafted it in my head when I too was curled up on the bathroom floor… Estera is much braver than I was though.

Apologies if these are coming somewhat thick and fast… figured I’d get as much as I can posted while the muse cooperates and before something shiny breaks the current hyper-fixation I have on this story 😏

(Previous… Prologue - Stars are Only Visible in Darkness, Estera - 1 - Colour, 2 - Dinosaur, 3 - Shoes, 4 - Thunderbird, 5 - Lesson, 6 - Safe, 7 - Gull, 8 - Deliver, 9 - Coffee, 10 - Flight, 11 - Run, 12 - Fall, 13 - Trying, 14 - Hide, 15 - Wait)

(Sofasurf’s Recrudescence which is the foundation for all of this)

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Slumped in the corner of the bathroom, cold sweat prickling from every pore she pressed her face against the coolness of the tiles and willed away the nausea.

She did NOT. Have. Time. For. This.

It was obviously an occupational hazard of spending every working day with small children, but she often seemed to dodge the viruses that took down her colleagues and had always been secretly pleased by the fact she was able to invincibly swoop in and cover for them when required. Pride before a fall.

It was particularly embarrassing as she’d been back at work a mere 3 days after so much time off. Just tomorrow and Friday left before the holidays… she COULDN’T call in sick it was just too ridiculous. Somehow she had to power through.

This particular bug seemed determined not to be ignored, however. Another wave of sickness hit and left her curled in a tight ball, sobbing into her best quality bath towel.

Too much self pity, Estera, need to think of something else…

Her feverish mind supplied only Baby Shark on loop.

Which didn’t really help.

Groaning in frustration she reached for her mobile phone, maybe she could find distraction of some kind online. Not that anyone she knew was likely to be awake at this time.

Oh, there was just one, according to the little green dot next to the word Blue.

As always her brain warred with itself - the anticipation of the warm, safe feeling their silly little exchanges always brought versus the sharp bite of guilt that demanded to know why she had any kind of right to his time or attention after what she had done. After the pain she’d caused him.

The nausea rolled by again, threatening to drag her into despair. She gritted her teeth. Desperate times… maybe he wouldn’t mind sharing another daft joke or something…

Hi, you’re up late?

Hey there 😀 no it’s mid-afternoon here ☀️

Oh! Sorry, I actually have no idea where you live and shouldn’t have assumed.

Not a problem, we tend to keep it quiet for security so I wouldn’t have mentioned where we are.

You ARE up late though? Everything alright?

Well she should have seen that coming. Fever made her honest. Or at least had eliminated her ability to formulate a plausible lie.

“Just a bit of a sickness bug, caught it from the kids.”

Ugh, that’s the worst. You want company? I can be there in half an hour?

She blinked. He was joking, surely?

Ha, err no I’m good thanks. That’s pretty fast though!

Told you One was the best Thunderbird 😉

She laughed out loud at the reference to the passionate debate in the cave. Which triggered another bout of unpleasantness. She lay on the floor for a while waiting for her head to stop pounding.

A soft ping made her open her eyes again.

You ok?

Sorry, yes. Just… well, you know.

Don’t apologise. Just wish I could help.

I could do with some distraction.

Want to hear about how our pool got filled with jello?

You have a pool? 😲

And yes please

WELL

It started (as it often does) with Gordon (2nd youngest) winding up Alan (youngest)

I never figured out precisely what it was about but that rarely matters…

She focussed on allowing herself to relax and to be carried away by the tale. He was an engaging story teller although she was sure much of it must be exaggerated - surely no real people would take a prank war to such extremes.

He asked about Italy so she found herself telling him about her family, her nieces’ exploits and how she’d got herself completely lost on the day trip to Venice.

She even admitted the trip took place when it did because she had been signed off work - fever really did make her too honest.

She didn’t say why. He didn’t ask. But the ball of tension that had resided in her throat for weeks eased, just a little.

She talked about Bez. He told her about his family, their different skills and interests and how proud of them all he was. He shared more dad jokes. She informed him they were terrible.

An hour or so later, having been chivvied to finally send the email to the school office, she crawled back into bed and a thankfully dreamless sleep took her.

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She woke with a start to the sound of the doorbell and Bez skittering about excitedly in the hallway. 10am - was it someone from school checking she was really ill? Staggering on jelly legs to the door she cautiously cracked it open.

“Delivery for Miss Herz… Herma…zew…” the courier frowned and held out a large brown paper bag.

“That would be me. Err thanks.”

Leaning heavily on the closed door she gently pushed Bez’s enthusiastic head out of the bag. In fairness to him it was emitting quite a pleasant aroma. Which turned out to be chicken soup and plain toasted bagels from a deli in town. she recognised the name of the place but it was far too fancy for her to have ever darkened the door. A bottle of isotonic drink and a range of herbal teabags were also included along with a printed note reading only “Get well soon, S x”

Well that was… unexpected. And kind.

Bez was beginning to lose his mind so she poured half the soup into his bowl and curled up on the sofa. She nibbled at a piece of fancy bagel… it really was excellent and probably wasted on her somewhat battered palate. She picked up her phone to send a thank you message, trying to calculate what the time difference must be when suddenly she froze and the bagel fell from her hand to immediately be wolfed down by her delighted dog.

How had he known her address?

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“John?”

“Yes EOS?”

“What kind of bagel flies?”

John ducked, concerned that the AI might be regressing back to old tricks. His immediate vicinity remained airborne-bread-product free, however.

“I’m sorry?”

“A plain bagel.”

“What?”

“It is a pun. I have deliberately exploited the fact that there are two meanings of the word plane for comedic effect. It is funny.”

Silence reigned.

“John?”

He lifted his head from his hands and sighed. “Yes EOS?”

“Why aren’t you laughing?”

“I was distracted by plotting my eldest brother’s demise.”

“He mentioned that you might initially react with threats of violence to his person and advised that persistence is generally the key to good comedy. What do ghosts put on their bagels?”

John flinched unwillingly and tried to cover it by playing along.

“I don’t know EOS, what do ghosts put on their bagels?”

“Scream cheese. This one is another play on words because although it isn’t precisely the same phoneme the sound is very similar.”

“I get it EOS.”

“You still aren’t laughing, John. Should I continue with the persistence strategy? Or perhaps I should carry out further research?”

“The latter I think.”

There was a pause.

“John, whilst we are discussing bagels, I believe you would enjoy a trip to the South West of England.”

John looked up from the weather front he was monitoring and frowned as he tried to predict the punchline to this one.

“Why is that EOS?”

“This deli claims to produce the most delicious bagels in Europe.”

“Good to know. What brought that to your attention?”

“Scott asked me to research the best place to order from in that locality.”

John noted the dropping of the surname from her habitual reference to his family members. Thus far, only he had been on first name only terms with his AI. It seemed his big brother had been upgraded too.

“He did, did he?” John paused, wondering whether further enquiry was overstepping a boundary. Maybe it was a little, but Scott had been acting weirdly and as a caring brother John should keep an eye on him.

“Did he say why?”

“We sent a ‘care package’ to a friend.” EOS enunciated the new phrase carefully.

John’s eyebrows defied his attempt to maintain a poker face. Turning away from EOS’s camera track he opened a private line to Virgil.

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Hey how are you doing? Hope you managed to get some sleep?

She typed and deleted three variants of a reply, then buried the phone under a cushion and curled up on the couch with her head on Bez’s flank. The dog huffed in his sleep.

She had eaten the rest of the food. She wasn’t insane - it was delicious and probably eye-wateringly expensive - and she didn’t have the energy to prepare herself anything else. It really was a thoughtful gesture and she had to say thank you. Should have done already.

But the initial glow of warmth at the thought she had a friend out there somewhere who cared had been swamped by the creepy feeling. She wasn’t listed in the directory. Never had been. There had never seemed any point as who would look her up and it would only result in sales calls or junk mail. And advertising her surname might invite the attention of the unpleasant minority with a particular political statement to make.

The “It’s over now, why are you still here?” type of statement. Best avoided.

So how had he got it?

She thought again of his immediate offer of company, which had seemed sweet if rather silly at the time.

What if there was an ulterior motive?

She shivered and had to focus to push back certain memories that still lurked too close to the edge of her consciousness.

Don’t be ridiculous. The man had the entire world at his feet. And she was literally being sick at the time. Hardly attractive to someone thinking in that way. She thought back to the time they had had coffee… no… he didn’t seem like that kind of a person. He’d seemed… surprisingly genuine. The occasional text exchanges they’d had since then had backed up that initial impression. And last night in all that time messaging her, keeping her company, there were no red flags at all, she’d even felt maybe he was someone she could trust… could actually talk to.

Aaaaaah which meant he was just being nice and she hadn’t responded! Being wary, even cynical was one thing, but she couldn’t bear to be rude. She grabbed the phone but found herself hesitating again. Maybe she could just ask about the address and if he was weird about it let him down gently and delete his number and hide. Yes, hide from the guy who could buy her entire town if the fancy took him. Right. That would definitely work.

"Damnit Scott Tracy, you’d better not be a weirdo stalker."

Bez looked up sleepily.

“Sorry, Bez, didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Right. Ok. Thank you message.

She added a smiley face to make it seem less flat and reread it again.

And then again. It would have to do.

She pressed send.

Hi, I seem to be ok now just really drained. Thank you for the soup, it was just what I needed. 🙂

Glad to hear it. Make sure you keep hydrated and get plenty of rest

I get the impression you say that kind of thing a lot?

Ha. Yeah I’ve 4 little brothers. We’ve seen our fair share of stomach flu.

Seriously though, the hydration thing…

She eyed her empty glass. He had a point actually.

I am literally getting up to refill my drink now

Good 🥃

That was the wrong emoji, I do not recommend whisky at this time!

Estera leant heavily on the side of the sink, sipping water and trying to calculate whether she could take more tablets for the throbbing headache yet. No, not quite. She eyed the phone on the table. Ah, it was no good, she had to ask or she’d be driven to madness by overthinking.

Can I ask you something?

Of course!

Fire away

How do you know my address?

The little ticks turned green and she waited for the completely normal and un-terrifying response that was obviously coming.

Except it didn’t. After ten minutes, she stopped watching the unchanging screen and hid the phone in a drawer. Being unable to see it didn’t help in the slightest. Checking it again showed no change. She slammed the drawer closed.

She crawled into the shower and sat motionless under the flow of water, trying to work out how on earth she could afford to quit her job, move home and change her name.

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#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Estera #tb estera #scott tracy #john tracy #EOS (thunderbirds)#The Commander & The Murderbot #EOS’s continuing adventures in the art of Humour #tw vomit

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peakyscillian · 1 year

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Bend The Rules | Cillian Murphy Series

Summary: Cillian is unhappily married, to someone who doesn’t care about him, surely he can bend the rules? Warnings: Cheating, drama, Smut, Mature themes, sexual content, language. Minors DNI Pairing: Cillian x Fem!Reader Part: 7 A/N: No disrespect to Cillian/his family this is purely fiction.

I just want to have a little shout out moment, to my wonderful Alex (@cillmequick) who let me have a massive brain dump of ideas and just rolled with the flow of me being all over the place - giving me help on where to take this little series I've created. So I hope you like this part - Enjoy bestie 😘

Bend The Rules | Part 7

Masterlist | BTR Masterlist

Part Seven.

Your head was spinning, you'd arrived on set earlier than planned, you needed to find Cillian, how had she even found where you lived?

It was packed today, of all days, a massive scene playing out for the whole Shelby family.

You found him sat to the side of the canal, a book in hand as he relaxed, he caught your eye as if he'd sensed you walking over.

"Can we just go check the fit of the Gala outfit please?" you asked, trying to remain composed, "there were some alterations" you added.

Cillian nodded, standing from him chair, he frowned at you as you stormed off ahead, what had he done now?

Once you were both in the privacy of the dressing room, he was looking for the Tux that you had fitted him for weeks ago, one that had you dropping to your knee's and taking his cock into your mouth.

It hadn't been sent for alterations, it had been sent to dry cleaning because you under estimated how much of his cum you could swallow in one go, he adjusted himself at the thought of you, his cum leaking from your mouth, the cheeky giggle as you tried to swipe it from the leg of the trouser.

"She knows" your voice was shaking, only slightly but, god when he looked at you, your eyes were wild and frightened.

"What?" that took away the dull ache in his balls as quick as it had appeared "how?"

You shrug at him, which fills him with a flash of annoyance, because how did she know? how could she find out? but then he relaxes, it's not your fault, it's his mess he's dragged you into.

She'd been out of town, away on another press trip straight after the Charity dinner, not that he had checked up on her, why would he? he was trying to hard to divorce this woman.

"I don't know, she turned up this morning not long after you left" you sat in the nearest chair, your head was a mess.

"Fuck" he cursed, Irish accent coated with a thick disgust, how she had the nerve to turn up on your doorstep.

"Waving fucking divorce papers at me, telling me I'm the reason" you were ranting, "Which I am I suppose, but you wanted out of this marriage long before I showed up"

Cillian was kneeling in front of you, hands stroking over your knee's "This is my mess and I'll sort it, I do want out of this marriage, I want to be able to be with you in every capacity, not just hiding in your apartment or in locked rooms on set, I want you"

His fingers had pushed through yours, palms touching "I want to be loved by someone who cares about me, who knows every fucking annoying thing about me and still chooses me"

"You do have a lot of things that are annoying" you joked, trying to hold the tears back, "but, you're also so fucking wonderful Cillian and if she hasn't ever seen that then she doesn't deserve you" you cupped at his jaw.

He was wonderful, so caring you felt like you didn't deserve him, you were rushing into falling for him, you couldn't stop yourself, you couldn't make youself slow down.

It's tumbling from your mouth, before you can even register that you're the one who is saying it, "I love you, I want to be the one to love you" your mouth closes quickly, heart hammering.

Then you see the look fall across his face, the smile tugging on his lips making his cheek bones stand strong to attention as he moves, to cup your face in his hands, bent almost in half so he can kiss you so forecefully, he takes the air right from your lungs, you're grabbing at him to pull him closer.

Because, you never want to let him go, whatever she was planning would be fine, it wouldn't hurt as much as you once thought because he's pulling away from your lips to let you breathe and he's saying those words right back "I love you".

You can hear Cillian outside his trailer, trying his hardest not to shout down the line to her, he's getting answers, because how dare she find your home, confront you on your own doorstep.

In a flurry of choice words and a low frustrated groan he's back walking through the door.

"she followed me the other night, then found out my schedule set up a little stake out to watch me leave your apartment to confirm her suspicion" he shrugged off the thick wool coat of his character.

You were meant to be off set hours ago, but you'd stayed in his trailer waiting for him between scenes and meetings, pottering around the costume department, setting up for future appointments anything to distract you from the feeling of her being near your home.

"I've finished up" he's taking off the cap, leaving it on the side "we can get a late dinner?" he asks, slowly removing the layers of Tommy Shelby from him body.

You nod, moving towards him to help with his tie, the buttons on the collar of his shirt, fingers moving down to unbutton the crisp slim fit shirt from his body, fingertips tracing over the fake tattoo's, the well crafted scar on is chest.

Cillian takes your hand in his, holding it against his chest "I want to take you out for dinner, fuck sneaking around" he looks so sure of himself.

You're biting at your bottom lip, slightly worrying it between your teeth "yes, I'd like that" you throw all caution to the wind because why couldn't you be seen with him?

Four hours later you're pleasently full with good food and wine, Cillian holding the door open for you to slip into the passenger seat of your car.

He's pulling away from the roadside, focused on the road but you're certain you saw the flash of something, the ultimate invasion of any privacy.

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#Cillian Murphy #Cillian x Fem!Reader #Cillian x y/n #Cillian Series #Cillian Fic #My Writing #Minors DNI #Masterlist #Series Writing #Fic #Taglist #Cillian Requests Open

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ceejaykayess · 10 months

Text

The long awaited sequel! Super-cute Cyber-girl AI-Ball Ene, at your service! I kid, I kid, I know no one saw the last post, because it didn’t get posted under the tag for some reason… ah well, second try’s the charm.

After hearing that next year’s Dazecon would be our last, it sorta kicked my ass into gear to get some more of these Kagepro ideas off my chest and onto paper. So, Ene, our deuteragonist to our beloved protagonist (derogatory).

I had a lot of thoughts ever since the first picture on how I wanted to draw Ene’s cyber form. Given Aiba and Tama’s designs, we have something of a base to work off of, but we need at least one more game for me to confidently declare what is and isn’t a pattern. What we can easily tell, at least, is that AI-Balls have white hair and and dress in mostly black and white. And while Ene does do the latter, she… doesn’t do the former. Why? Well… maybe you can figure it out?

But in terms of her design, while I mostly stick to her regular design, the things I want to point out (because it might not be super obvious with my image quality) are the glowing strands in her hair, a blue one in her fringe, a red one in her left pigtail, and a white one in her left. I suppose you could call them remnants of what should have been… I also want to point out her outfit- it’s skin-tight from the neck to the waist, the skirt being a part of the bodysuit. The sleeves are, almost ironically, like Miku’s in that they’re detachable. And the most AI-Ball feature to her are the tech veins that compose her legs, as opposed to generally lacking them as in most Kagepro material.

I made Ene’s gel form a rabbit, in consideration of those mini-sketch comics I read yonks ago that drew Ene’s pigtails as being like hands for her since hers are in her sleeves always. Also, I thought it’d be funny if the first time Shintarou saw it, he’d consider renaming her to Tono in honour of his rabbit.

In case it’s hard to read, the shocked Ene in the top right is saying, “Master! MASTER! Oh no, he can’t hear me, he’s wearing his Raycon:tm: Earbuds, supremely comfortable for all your needs-” The little sketch in the bottom right, of Shintaro face down in bed and Ene in rabbit mode on his bedside table, reads, “Get the fuck up Master, we’re goin’ to the amusement park today!” “Ene, I’m dying…”

Here's a link to the first picture of Shintaro that never posted properly. And here's a link to the follow-up Yaki picture.

How long had she been wandering? She wasn’t really sure. Sure, if she looked at a calendar, or even just the UI on near anyone’s digital device, she’d see that it had been a year, more even. But that wasn’t really what she meant.

When she first opened her eyes, she had a purpose. She wasn’t wandering- she was seeking. She wasn’t on a Journey, she was on a Quest. She had to find them, had to know what happened to them, because if she were here, like this, then the others, then he had to be-

But though she had a Quest, she had to figure it out, her newfound capabilities, how to parse the sheer amount of information that tried to force its way around her, through her, tried to twist the information that made up herself-

And by the time she had come to a balance with her newfound self, body made of numbers and pixels instead of blood vessels and organ systems, what she had been seeking had become old news, hearsay that was washed under the waves of time and new information and new tragedies and new things for people to talk about. The longer it took, the deeper the information was buried, and the deeper it was buried, the longer it would take for her to come and go.

But eventually, after months and months, 8 months and 17 days and 9 hours and 21 minutes and 2 seconds, 3 seconds, 4 seconds, she had bounced from Wiki article to Wiki article, dug through news archives, dragged herself through Towitter discussions and arguments dated around that August 15th, and a bit after, she had learned and pieced together thus: Three people were marked as dead. 14 people were injured, 9 of which being detained as members of the syndicate that caused the explosion. There was no mention of who died, or even of the state their bodies were in. There was no specific mention of their fourth, her annoying kouhai who was so bitter, who brought everyone down despite his brilliance, who everyone loved despite his acidic tongue and obvious disdain, who she hated because of how much it felt like she were looking at a mirror, her kouhai who was lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, surrounded by rubble and mumbling things she could barely understand being in such a terrible state herself-

She felt herself lose it, the desperate, fickle hope she held in her oversized jumper, because what does it matter? For all intents and purposes, she was dead. As far as she was aware, as far as anyone was aware, her best friend was, too. Maybe even her kouhai. And her-

And-

That kind boy, the one that irritated her so, the one that she wanted to see every day, the one that made her feel this terrible, terrible way, he too is-

Gone. They’re all gone. So what’s the point? Her Quest was over. And she couldn’t even delete herself, backspace over the 1′s and 0′s that composed her new existence. She was too much of a coward to throw herself at a virus and let it have its way with her. She could just stay here until eventually this webpage rotted away, but the longer she stayed in proximity to this information, to this reminder, the more she felt like she needed to expel the non-existent contents of her non-existent stomach. So she ran. She left. She tried to separate herself from her name, from the life that could no longer be hers, that simply was no longer.

She wandered.

How long had she been wandering?

…

Long enough that she felt nostalgic, at least. Long enough that she’s actually contemplating her current course of action, long enough that she’s following through on that course even as she contemplates the wisdom.

Her current location, digitally, was in the mainframe of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. Her destination was downstairs, 5 floors underground in fact. The Advanced Brain Investigation Squad. Her… former squad, to put it a way. She followed along the flow of data from the routers to the elevator, holding and holding and holding on to the connection as she sunk deeper and deeper and deeper until she felt like she might actually suffocate despite not needing air, before feeling the next router and leaping for it, bringing her all the way down to the abyss.

Taking in deep gasping breaths of nothing that still let her feel like a human, she looked around. The ABIS mainframe wasn’t anything special. Tunnelled far as hell away from anything else, sure, but nothing special. So much for the stupid old man and his so-called “professional coding skills”. Feh. She’s seen message boards with more interesting encryption.

Despite her trash-talking, she still looked around curious as she wandered deeper. Jumping from computer to computer, camera to camera, she saw how much the place had changed in the last year. Or rather, how little it didn’t. It was like she had never left. Eventually she came across a concrete room with a familiar sense of decoration that made her want to spit and laugh and scream and cry-

Which was immediately blown away when she looked down on the room’s occupants. There was, of course, the room’s owner and decorator, with his scruffy brown hair pulled into a messy ponytail, holding his iconic lab coat rather than wearing it, glasses askew and face looking as if he hadn’t slept or washed his face for days. His cybernetic eye, pupil the same as his remaining brown one, stared deep into the eyes of the person that had her stopping short, looking again, re-evaluating and readjusting, checking the feed and the system and refreshing everything, video and audio, again and again, just to make sure she wasn’t being deceived, that the person she was seeing was really who she thought he was.

“-is that understood, Shintaro?” “…I understand, old man.”

His voice was somehow more unbearable than usual, his face lacking its usual stern and uncaring look. It was loose, and flabby. Like he didn’t even care enough to pretend to not care. Instead of the red coat her best friend was so fond of, or even the black suit he was partial to, he stood in just a white shirt, arms bare. He was missing an eye, a scar covering the eyelid, one that made her think of a boy reluctantly in red, facedown in a puddle of the colour.

“Oi, I told you already, call me Boss, y’got it brat!?” “Mm.”

Barely acknowledging him, he turned away, making his way out of Boss’ Office, as the namesake would have you call it. Without thinking, she began to follow after him, but was stopped when she heard the old goat mutter something.

“Give me strength, Ayaka…”

Whispering the pained prayer, the man she always thought of as an unreliable lout that only ever got moving when he was being put under threat stood, donning his lab coat and fixing his glasses. Reaching into it, he withdrew a small sphere, chockful of electronic components- very similar to the one in his own eye, actually… or rather, based on it. He gave it a long look, and so did she. What was he planning…? Her musing was broken by his clenching of his fist and replacing the orb, muttering tomorrow as he moved out of the room- down the hallway and towards his lab. The opposite direction of Shintaro.

Shintaro.

Almost without thinking, she turned around, searching for the apathetic genius, that damn ikemen that couldn’t take a hint for the life of him. The hallway was lonely, and he was never very fast, so she caught him easily halfway towards the elevator. She hesitated. She had already seen more than she expected, more than she even wanted. She had expected the old man. Hell, maybe some part of her even expected to see reference to the others, pictures maybe. She hadn’t even gotten to look at their old workplaces, at her old work bench where she fiddled with her Evolver- she didn’t even know if her Evolver was still around.

But she hadn’t expected a man, no, a brat she thought was dead to be walking around with the living. She shouldn’t follow him. She wanted to check on her Evolver, see if Mr. Tateyama had improved on anything in the last year, see if the three of them are still remembered. She doesn’t even like Shintaro that much anyways, if he knew she was spying on him he’d just scold and scream at her like the ungrateful punk he is-

But even so, she follows him anyways. Jumps to the data in his phone, barren and new, clenched in his hand. She’s only doing this because the other two would have wanted her to. Not because she wants to.

And so, she watches as he rides the elevator, not once glancing at his phone. She watches as he hails a cab and asks for an address that, after a quick search, she finds is set in Tokyo, not Chiba. She watches as he sits silently through the whole ride, rudely ignoring his chauffeur’s attempts at conversation and instead looks with almost a sad look at the cityscape passing him by. She watches as he pays the driver, walks up to the rundown looking building, sighs, and opens the door. She watches as he nods at the tired 30-something reclining against a couch in the foyer, walking up the stairs until he comes up to a door. And she watches as he silently pulls out a key, opens the door, and skulks to his room. She can’t see anything else out of the narrow view the phone’s camera offers her, but it looks like he’s trying to be quiet. Could there… be someone else here?

And eventually, he enters a dark room. He makes for the bed in the corner, planting himself on the mattress, and looks down. In his hands, his phone, and thus she, face towards him. He looks into the screen, and for a moment she felt panic. Did he see her? What was she going to say? How does she explain it- anything? Would he even care? As she opened her mouth, prepared to speak through the microphone-

He slumped his shoulders, sighed, and closed his eyes. “Damn it,” he mumbled. He rubs his eyes, and places the phone down. Whatever he does next is a mystery, as the phone she’s in is can only see up and down, and half of that is unavailable to her on a flat surface. She feels out, and finds a computer to connect to. She shuffles over, and finds herself in a much roomier space. Taking care not to activate the screen, she peeks through the camera to see… him, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. She stared at him for what must have been a reasonable time before turning away- she wasn’t going to get anything out of him, not like this, and not without announcing herself, which- she still hasn’t thought on whether she actually wanted to, let alone how. So, instead of being productive and thinking on it, she turns back to the files on his computer and, invasion of privacy be damned, went scrounging.

His internet history, nothing but 2channel, various forums she also used to browse, anime piracy websites, and the occasional risque website search. She held back on this occasion, she didn’t need to know. Yet. Around certain dates, he would even search up strange things like gift ideas or idol showing tickets. Weirdo.

Outside of his history, there’s his documents. A lot of deleted drafts, the occasional downloaded risque image (legs, huh? Is that why she had always…?), and a lot of editing software. A lot of editing software. What was all this…? She found unfinished music projects, which she wouldn’t dare listen to while he’s still here. Poems that trailed off, half-thought out lyrics written here and there. The occasional poorly drawn picture, and… photos. Lots and lots of photos. Some in a file labelled “Never forget.” Others labelled in a file called “Never forgive.” The former was full of pictures of… them. Shintaro, and her, and… and Ayano, and Haruka, their faces ones she hadn’t even realised she had begun to forget until this moment. Them in high school, their first meeting at the school festival, group projects and study groups, sleepovers and festival gatherings- their first day at ABIS, too. And, not just that. Pictures of Haruka drawing, of herself fiddling with the Evolver or a game she was practicing, Ayano hard at work on a test or humming while folding paper cranes- none of these were taken by Shintaro, she was certain, but he collected them all anyways. There were even more besides.

Some of a bright little girl with searing orange hair, the barest similarities to Shintaro in her face and the strongest in her eyes (he had mentioned a little sister, didn’t he?), others of that bright girl next to him and a woman that looked older than both but even more similar, even older ones of a young boy and girl that could only be those two standing hand in hand with that same woman and an older man. Pictures of a cute white rabbit (Tounou, wasn’t that her name?), of the old man, and of old and familiar places. Their school, that bridge, even the one game convention they all attended.

She… didn't know how she felt about it. Leaving that, she opened up the other file, and found… pictures of that place. As it was before the explosion, and as it was after. Documents detailing changes, listing occupants and suspects and those connected to the members they captured, pictures of them with friends and family, all connected together by a metaphorical red string in the document that centres around one simple question: Where are they?

She… really didn't know how she felt about it. He hadn't let go or moved on, he hadn't been wallowing- he was on just as much of a Quest as she had been. As she still could be. Closing the file, she looks through the camera at her kouhai's slumped form, thoughts running through her mind…

…

He left the building bright and early the next day, once again holding tightly onto the new phone. And once again, the two of them found themselves returning to their old workplace. She wasn't certain of what he was here for, but she could guess. As he made his way out of the elevator and towards the old man's so-called lab, the Psync Room, she felt even more certain of her prediction.

And eventually, standing in front of the jacketless boy, was the old goat she had once called teacher, looking just as rumpled as yesterday but at least clad in his lab coat. And in his hand, as expected, was the small orb filled to the brim with cybernetics. He began to explain what exactly was in his hand, an AI-Ball he called it (the shitty punster he is), and started rattling off features like different vision wavelengths, internet access, and most notably, an AI companion to keep him company.

This piqued her attention the most. Someone to stand by his side and help him out, to protect him as he tries to protect others. A partner… and one that can't die, by virtue of their existence being backed up on the so-called Wadjet System. To her, it sounded like…

An opportunity.

As the old man rambled on, she tried to feel out the AI-Ball. For such a supposedly high-tech piece of equipment, it felt rather… undefended, from threats such as her. Then again, she doubts anyone could've expected a sapient AI to be floating about. Or maybe they'll add some better antivirus later… hopefully. Pushing through some gaps in the firewall, she found herself in the core of the device. Looking this way and that, she tried to familiarize herself with her new housing. Looked like audio was here, here was video, here was… AR projection? And… a neural link, a gel formation, a shock response, and- a self-destruct??

Before she could really parse through all that (seriously, why so many abilities??), she found herself stumbling on… well, what she should have expected, really. An AI, young and unassuming. And asleep. It lacked an appearance in this digital world, merely a bundle of code vaguely shaped like a person. If she was going to do what she had to do, then she had to… get rid of it. There was no way she could hold control while the AI this body was made for was running around too, but… well, it felt a bit like murder to her. But that was silly, this wasn't a person, just an AI, with no life to speak of, and no memories either (she steadfastly ignored the stupid, stupid old man's remarks that the AI-Ball would grow alongside him to become his perfect partner).

She had to do it. She had to. For Shintaro. For Ayano. For Haruka. And maybe even a little bit for herself, too. She raised her hands and stepped toward the nameless AI, preparing to unravel the lines of code holding it together, preparing to scatter its 1's and 0's into the Cloud, preparing to deprive it of the chance to become its own person- and stopped. She- she couldn't. She just- she was callous but not cruel, the last year hadn't changed that. It had made her energetic in a way she never could consistently be in a body but tired in a way that was deeper than her bones, but it hadn't made her a murderer.

But still she had to- to do something. Maybe, maybe they could share, or-

"Well, go ahead and put her in, Shintaro."

And then suddenly the neural link was being opened and the AI was opening its eyes, slowly generating an appearance just from the barest hints of Shintaro's psyche, body becoming more defined, hair appearing and growing long, down to the waist, and-

She panicked. She reached out with her hand and pulled, binding and zipping the core of the AI down as she hurried, ignoring the voiceless cry as she reached out with her other hand, grabbing the neural link and-

Then she was twisting and writhing, her body being compressed and stretched out, information not native to her forcing its way in, connections to something beyond, a Mother that was not her mother, her form changing, blue becoming white and she could hear him, his thoughts, feel his sorrow, his confusion, his annoyance, his apathy, and she opens her mouth to scream-

And then it all faded away, assimilated with her, and she felt different, but she still felt like herself, and she opened her eyes and looked out through a single eye, taller than she had ever been (silently, an eye coloured #fa3c3e shifted to a hue constantly transitioning from #55edfe to #0e2652), and-

"I can… see. Thanks, old man."

"Oi! I already told you, call me Boss! Hell, I'll even accept you calling me by name, anything's better than old man!"

"Mm. So, what was that about an AI companion?"

"Eh? You can't hear her? Strange, maybe she's a bit shyer than I expected. Let me just-"

The old goat made motions towards the AI-Ball, and she quivered, she had to do something, else he'd see that she isn't meant to be here, but what could she- oh, duh!

"I-it's nothing to worry about! Sorry!"

"Eh?"

Her kouhai looked this way and that, scratching his head. He almost looked scared.

"Did… you hear something, old man?"

"…no? Oh, is that the AI-Ball?"

"Yep yep, that's me!" She tried to centre herself, she needed to land a good introduction so they don't suspect a thing. Briefly, her mind recalled a conversation she and her best friend had about this dense bastard, and decided to follow through in her unspoken plea. "Super cute cybergirl AI companion Ene, at your service, Ma-su-tah~"

Alright, maybe that was a bit much, but sue her! She was panicking, and needed to keep him off kilter!

"E-eh? Ene? Super cute?? Master??? Old man, what the hell kind of AI did you stick in my head!?"

The old goat raised his hands in defence. "Hey, I didn't do anything. The AI-Ball determines its personality based on what's best for you. Is there something you need to tell me, young man…?" He raised a brow mockingly, barely suppressing a gross smirk.

Her… guh, Master blushed red, shaking his head frantically. "N-no! And- and it's barely even been few minutes, how could she know what's best for me!?"

He shrugged. "That's just her opinion. Maybe you'll feel more comfortable with it in a few months."

"A few months!?" Her Master went bug-eyed. Pfft, if only she could see his face… "Hell no, get this thing outta me!"

"Aw, Master, that's so mean… sniff sniff… am I really so deplorable?" To try and strike it home, she used the AR projection feature, placing an image of her newly reformed cyberself before him, now detachable sleeves covering her face as she shakes and shivers. After all, this guy…

"Guh… f-fine."

Was an absolute pushover.

"Alright, that's great to hear brat! Now get out of here, I'm busy. I'll be seeing you here next week for you to resume your apprenticeship, so make sure to send me any emails if any issues pop up with her."

With his piece said, he turns back to the rows of computers, completely ignoring Shintaro. Her Master, still shaking off his flush, turns away and grumbles. As he stalks his way down to the elevator, Ene felt out his being, the rush of thoughts on her, on Kejirou, on the past, on the future, all blended together with his embarrassment, his frustration, his exhaustion- it was all rather dizzying to her. Maybe if she were truly an AI, designed for this sort of relationship, it wouldn't be so hard. Silently, she tried to mute the connection, grunting when she saw that wasn't an option.

As he entered the elevator, he slumped against the back wall, riding it up to the ground floor. He's silent, so she is too, not really sure what to do.

"Hey, Ene."

She jumps. That wasn't ever a thing she expected him to call her.

"Yes, Master?"

He winces, but shakes it off. He stands silent for one beat, two, three, and she almost thinks he's ignoring her before he continues.

"…let's get along."

Ene stared blankly. That was… probably the most polite he had ever treated her. She smacked her face- now wasn't the time. Make a good first impression. Even so, she couldn't help the way her voice softened a bit as she said her first genuine sentence as Ene instead of as the ghost of Takane Enomoto.

"…yeah. Let's get along… Master."

#ai the somnium files #kagerou project #art #ene #aitsf #Her centre stance is based on her pose in the Meka Trio's portion of the anime OP #Her face in the top right is based on a frame from the Summertime Record MV #This story got right the heck away from me it's way too long #I messed up and didn;t realise reblogs didn't count as posts that would appear in the tags in and of themselves #I should have because that explains why I never saw reblogs when I was scrolling through a tag's history rather than my feed but alas #Also I decided Fraying was dumb; this story just works on the Snakes

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babygirl-diaz · 2 years

Text

Samtember 06: Redwing | Technology

1681 words | Rated G | for @samtember2022

Sam put on his favorite white-rimmed glasses and turned up the volume on Marvin Gaye’s “Got to Give it Up” and sat down on his stool as he got to work. He hooked up the toy he had fondly named “Redwing” to the computer and started making the changes he needed to work on.

Sam was a world-class engineer and an entrepreneur, and Redwing was his newest creation. Something he made for his daughter, Riley. Just a few months ago, there was a kidnapping attempt on the 5-year-old. Not wanting something like that to happen again, Sam decided to create something that would protect his kid. He made Redwing resemble a falcon, and it could do so much.

Sam did not hear anyone come in, as he moved to the music and typed away on the keyboard. It wasn’t until a tiny head popped up next to him that he realized that his little one had broken into the lab.

“Whatcha doin’?” Riley asked.

“Working on Redwing,” Sam replied.

“Is she ready?” Riley asked, reaching out to touch Redwing, but Sam grabbed her hand.

“No touching,” he told her sternly. To which the little girl just pouted.

Soon ‘Superstition’ started playing and Riley danced along to it. “Papa, dance!” She insisted.

“I can’t, baby girl. I have way too much work,” Sam replied.

“Papa, pleaseeeeeeeee….” Riley gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes, and how could he say no to that?

Getting up from the stool, Sam went over to his little girl and started moving to Stevie Wonder along with her.

Sam picked up Riley and took her small hand into his and started swaying them both to the music. “When you believe in things. That you don't understand... Then you suffer... Superstition ain't the way…” The father-daughter duo sang together and laughed.

“I’m more of an Al Green guy, but this song is a classic.”

Sam became alert when he heard another voice and turned around to find Tony Stark standing in the middle of his lab.

“Cherie!” Sam called out to his AI. “What have I told you about letting in strangers?!”

“Mr. Stark is listed as a friend,” Cherie replied.

Sam threw a glare at Stark. “Did you hack into my AI?”

Stark bit his lips and put his hands up in surrender. “I had a Friday off.”

“What do you want, Stark?” Sam refused to let his little girl down, especially in the presence of his rival. So he kept her close.

“I heard you were making something for the little one over there,” Stark commented and got closer to them. He reached out to touch Riley’s nose but Riley whined and turned her head away.

“Back off, Stark,” Sam warned him. On the list of people who had a vendetta against him and could have possibly tried to kidnap his child, Stark was at number two.

“Okay, okay, backing off,” Stark put his hands up in surrender again and smirked.

“So is that it?” He asked, leaning over Sam’s workstation.

“None of your business.” Sam went to his workstation and stood in front of it to hide his work from Stark.

“Aw come on. Don’t be a spoiled sport. What happened to sharing and caring?”

“It died since you stole my last idea,” Sam told him.

“I didn’t steal it. I just released it first,” Stark said with a shrug.

“And that’s exactly why I have already patented every single part of Redwing,” Sam told him. “You touch her and I will drag your pathetic ass to court.”

Stark fake gasped and looked at Riley. “Daddy said a bad word. Court.”

“That’s not daddy, silly,” Riley told him. “That’s papa. Daddy doesn’t live with us.”

“Right… daddy left because daddy was smart,”

Sam closed his eyes and counted back to himself. He really did not want to punch Stark in front of his daughter.

“So what does your infamous creation do?” Stark asked. “I am curious.”

“You can find out with the rest of the world,” Sam replied.

“You’re no fun!” Stark fake pouted at him. “Anyway, you wanna be my date to the charity ball this Saturday?”

“What?” Sam asked incredulously. “No! I don’t wanna be your date!”

“You break my heart, Wilson,” Stark pretended to weep and subtly take to a photo of Redwing, but Sam caught him.

“Man, get out of my house.” Sam really did not have the patience for him.

“Fine, I’m going,” Stark replied and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Goodbye brat.”

Sam was about to say fuck it and attack Stark when he added, “And goodbye, Riley.”

Sam closed his eyes and groaned before letting Riley down once Stark left.

“Papa, don’t let the bad guy bring you down,” Riley told him. She was very understanding for her age. Sam kind of wished she wasn’t. Because that meant she was growing up.

“Thanks, baby girl,” Sam thanked her and unhooked Redwing from the computer. He then picked up Riley and put her on the workstation table. “You wanna see what Redwing does?”

Riley excitedly nodded.

“Redwing, bird mode,” Sam said.

“Bird mode activated,” Redwing replied.

“Redwing, talk,” Sam told her.

“Redwing, talk,” Redwing replied like a parrot.

“That’s so cool!” Riley replied, clapping her hands together.

“That’s so cool!” Redwing repeated like a parrot once again.

It was bizarre seeing a falcon talk like a parrot, but Sam didn’t care.

“Redwing, chipmunk voice,” Sam told her.

“Chipmunk voice, activated,” she said in a chipmunk voice.

“Riley is the bestest!” Riley said.

“Riley is the bestest,” Redwing said in a chipmunk voice.

Riley giggled behind her hand, making Sam smile and forget all about Stark.

“You wanna see something cool?” Sam asked.

Riley nodded enthusiastically.

“Redwing, fly mode. Rainbow style,” he told the bird.

Redwing immediately got into flight mode and then took off flying around the lab. Not only that, she left a trail of rainbow colors behind that dissipated in the air after a few seconds.

“Wowwwwww….” Riley said in awe. She soon yawned and Sam decided that showtime was over.

“Okay, time for bed, baby girl,” Sam told Riley, getting her off the work table.

“But papa… I wanna play with Redwing,” she pouted.

“Not today, sweetheart. You can play with her when she’s finished,” Sam told her. “Now come on, let’s get you to bed.” Sam took Riley’s little hand and led her to her bedroom. While she brushed and changed, Sam sent a message to his ex-husband.

When Riley came back, Sam tucked her into bed and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Love you, baby girl,” he said.

“Love you, papa,” she replied. “Goodnight.”

Sam turned on the nightlight and left the door slightly ajar. “Goodnight,” he said on his way out.

As soon as Sam left Riley’s room, the front doorbell rang and Cherie announced Sam’s ex-husband’s arrival..

Sam went to the door and opened it. “Hey, Buck.”

“Hey, Sam,” Bucky came in and gave Sam a hug.

Sam hugged him back and let out a breath of relief. Even though they had parted ways, Bucky’s presence always made Sam feel better.

“Come on, let’s go to the workshop. I need to finish cleaning up,” Sam said, leading Bucky to the workshop.

“Wow… is that your Redwing?” Bucky asked.

“Not my Redwing. She belongs to Riley.” Sam replied.

“She huh?” Bucky chuckled.

Sam rolled his eyes at the other man and asked, “Do you wanna drink something?”

“I know you’ve got the good whiskey, so, yeah, I’ll have that.”

Sam went out and poured them their drinks and then returned with two glasses. He gave one to Bucky, who raised it towards Sam. ��Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Sam replied and took a sip.

“So Stark…” Bucky trailed off. “The audacity of that man.”

“I know,” Sam sighed. “I know you say that whoever tried to kidnap Riley was related to your work, but I still think it was him. He just wanted to get back at me.”

“I don’t think Stark is capable of kidnap, Sam,” Bucky told him as he took a sip of his whiskey.

“I don’t know if I believe that,” Sam replied. “Anyway… that’s why I’ve made Redwing over here. She will protect our little angel.”

“What exactly does she do?” Bucky asked and picked up a little garbage and threw them in the trash.

“When she’s finished, she will send me back a 360-degree video feed in multi-spectrum. She will also have tracking software. And scanning abilities, so that she can see through objects,” Sam replied.

“That sounds…. Scary,” Bucky replied.

“Oh, and she will also come with projectile grappling handcuffs,” Sam added.

“I think you’ve gone a bit overboard,” Bucky replied. “No parent will buy that for their child.”

Sam sighed. “I just want our child to be safe.”

“There is only so much you can do to keep her safe, Sam,” Bucky told him.

Sam hugged Bucky and sighed. “I know. But I wanna do whatever it takes.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around Sam and held him close. “I know.”

“I love you.”

A robotic voice came from somewhere, and Sam immediately pulled apart from Bucky.

Bucky frowned and turned to look at Redwing before turning back to Sam. “What the hell was that?”

“There is a glitch in her system,” Sam chuckled. “Sometimes she randomly starts saying I love you,” he replied. “Right now, she decided to say it at the most inopportune moment.” Sam turned off Redwing and put her back on the table.

“Anyway, let’s clean up, and then we can watch a movie or something,” Sam suggested. “That is, if you have time?”

“For you?” Bucky asked. “Always.”

Sam felt his cheeks heat up at that. “Cherie,” he called out at his AI to change the subject. “Play some music,” he told her.

Within a few seconds, Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together” started playing over the speakers.

“What the hell?” Sam said in a high-pitched voice.

Bucky laughed off to the side. “I love technology.”

***

Songs used in this fic:

#samtember2022 #samtember #day 06 #sam wilson #bucky barnes #original child character #tony stark #sambucky #fanfiction #aashnas drabble #Spotify

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foreteller-ava · 2 years

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AO3

Summary: Date's thoughts during the rescue attempt to save Kizuna.

A/N: Kaname Date get out of my head plz.

Tearer’s goons had been surprisingly easy to take down. They’d gotten a little roughed up but between the five of them they’d cleared the way around them and had gotten to Kizuna. The rescue mission was a simple success, and as soon as he had some service around here, Date knew he could get Aiba to call Iris and let her know he’d be home soon, her friend in tow.

Still, he frowned. Something about all of this didn’t feel right. Tearer had been surprisingly difficult to track down, and they had only found the chapel because he wanted them to. So why would he leave Kizuna so lightly defended…

“Date. Behind Kizuna.”

There, he saw it immediately. “No! Wait, Lien!” Behind Kizuna, ready to take them down at a moment’s notice. Explosive. High power by the thermal Aiba was showing him, and easily volatile. “Behind her…”

Lien stopped messing with the restraints, turning to face Date. But before he could question him.

“Ah, not a good idea to take that off.”

“Aiba, zoom in for me.”

“Understood.” A window appeared in his left eye, revealing the masked form of the man the other Mizuki had Psynced with earlier that day, Tearer.

He threatened them immediately. Told them not to try anything, told them about the bombs, and to an extent, told them about his motives and plans, and why he was doing this.

The Nirvana Initiative, if they made it out alive, he would have to do more digging into this. He’d wanted to leave his friends out of his digging into Naix, the moment he learned they were real and might have had connections to this case he had to learn what he could about the mysterious organization that had haunted Iris’s tumor driven paranoid delusions, but now it seemed like going it alone was no longer an option.

It wouldn’t have been an option anyways. Even if the other Mizuki still needed Aiba for the compatibility tests until her own AI-Ball was ready, there was no chance in hell he’d ever let Aiba leave him again. She was his partner. Not hers.

For now, however, his research and planning for ways to make it up to Aiba would have to wait. Right now, there were more pressing issues. Tearer was here and needed to be dealt with.

“What did you hope to achieve from this? Why did you kidnap Kizuna?” Finally, Ryuki asked the question that had been lingering on everybody’s mind. If Kizuna wasn’t kidnapped because of the videos, then why was she here? Why would he be doing this?

“Ryuki, I thought you already knew. He’s always been a nuisance,” Tearer said. The way he treated Ryuki like an old friend bothered Date, but there was nothing more to be done. He already knew from the other Mizuki that Ryuki was working with Tearer, but he was doing it under threat, not because he wanted to. Still, it made Ryuki dangerous. Mizuki questioned him, and Tearer immediately clarified. “Kaname Date, of course. He’s been trying his best to thwart my plans, so I brought him here to get rid of him using Kizuna as bait.”

And wasn’t that just what somebody wanted to hear. The reason why a good friend of both of his daughters was to lure him out. He knew being the guy that was poking into everything would probably place a target on his back, he’d just hadn’t wanted it to affect people he cared about either.

(He should’ve known better, people always went after him through the people he loved. That was what Saito had done to him last November after all.)

“Date, do not blame yourself for this. Just like you are not to blame for Saito’s actions, you’re not to blame for Tearer’s either.”

“Yeah, well that’s easier said than done.” No, it was wrong of him to take his frustrations out on Aiba. She was trying to reassure him. Right now, he had to focus, he had to come up with a plan.

“Do we have any options?” he asked.

“I’ll let you know as soon as an opportunity presents itself.”

So Aiba was looking too. That was good. Between the two of them, one of them was going to come up with a plan to get all of them out of this alive. She’d never failed him before.

Especially since even with the offer to save themselves, it didn’t seem like any of his friends were going anywhere.

“Aren’t you curious? About why I’m talking to you like this…? I could kill you all by pressing this button…” As though to rub in how little options they had, Tearer had taken it upon himself to taunt them for their helplessness. To remind them of how screwed they were like the bastard he was. “This world is a game, and I just wanted to play with you.”

Tearer turned, and despite the mask he knew exactly which one of the members of their rescue team he was looking at before he even said anything more. “You especially, Ryuki.”

Ryuki stumbled backwards as though wounded. Despite the fact that he was aligned with Tearer to a degree, it appeared he still hadn’t wanted this. “Me?”

“Why don’t we do this? If you follow my instructions, I’ll let the others go. If you decline, I’ll blast them into pieces.” It didn’t matter, they were instructions that Ryuki was already obligated to take for Tama’s safety.

Instructions that whatever Tearer asked for, Date knew immediately he was going to make sure Ryuki took. If it kept Mizuki, Lien, Gen, Kizuna, and Aiba safe, Date would make sure he followed the instructions to the letter.

“...what do you want me to do?” Ryuki asked.

“That gun you’re holding. Use it to kill Date.”

The silence rang out around them as everybody sat there in shock. It made sense, of course, knowing Tearer had brought him here to get rid of him, it only made sense that he would be the target. Date understood that immediately. In any other circumstance, Date might have tried to find any reason not to shoot him, to come up with a plan.

He glanced over at Mizuki. If he didn’t die, he’d be putting her at risk, and he couldn’t…

“Date, you can’t really be considering!”

“Do you see any other option for everybody else to get out of here alive? I can’t be the reason Mizuki gets hurt.”

“You also can’t just throw away your life like that!”

Tearer began his countdown, and Ryuki raised his gun aiming right at Date. Their friends protested around him, and he could feel Mizuki ready to jump in to save him if Ryuki even tried to shoot him.

Ryuki’s hands were shaking, and with how skilled he was in using it, Date knew there was only one reason for it. Reluctance. A reluctance Date needed pushed to the side.

“You need to stop this now! I’ll come up with something, just do not–”

“Shoot.” Date ignored Aiba. His life couldn’t be the reason his friends died.

“Date!”

“What!?”

“Just do it! Shoot Ryuki!”

“What about Iris? Hitomi? Mizuki? You’re asking all of us to just lose you like this. You’re asking me to…”

“2…1…”

Ryuki lowered his gun, bullet unfired. “It’s impossible…I…I can’t.”

“I can’t do it!” Ryuki looked to be on the verge of breakdown at the stress, and Date couldn’t say he envied him.

Still, without Ryuki shooting him, then that meant…

“Why…? Why aren’t you following through? You and Date…” Tearer seemed to contemplate it for a moment before resolving himself. “Time’s up.”

Date grimaced. There wasn’t anything else they could do. Tearer taunted them, telling them a fake name that wouldn’t matter because none of them had the time to research it or even tell ABIS any kind of clue to his identity.

“Be seeing you.”

It felt as though time moved in slow motion after that. Date pulled out his Evolver, aiming trying to aim for Tearer, trying to do something.

“There isn’t time, you have to move!”

“What?”

“To shoot him! The ceiling’s going to collapse.”

“So, if we let Tearer get away–”

“I don’t care if Tearer gets away. Don’t you get it Date, I care about you. I won’t let you throw your life away just because you don’t get that.”

Date had known that, of course, he’d known it long before the case back in November and even with her abandoning him over his porn habits, he knew it now too, but…

The explosion went off behind them, and that’s when the debris fell, crushing him beneath the rubble. He ducked his head, attempting to protect Aiba, but even he knew it was hopeless as he was crushed under the rocks.

“Aiba? Aiba!”

There was no response. -x-

Date wasn’t sure how long he was buried under the rocks before finally, somebody had found him, the light blinding his single, functioning eye. But the rubble still stuck on his legs, keeping him trapped.

Ryuki had found him, was trying to rescue him, but there wasn’t a lot he could do. Ryuki wasn’t Mizuki. He wouldn’t have been strong enough to lift up the rock and get him out of there.

Date was going to die, but there was at least one person important to him that he could protect. He extended his hand. “Just take this with you.”

He dropped Aiba into Ryuki’s hands. “She’s important.”

The ceiling collapsed.

Date’s vision went black.

#AI The Somnium Files #AINI #AITSF #Kaname Date #Date AITSF #Aiba aitsf #Ryuki Kuruto #AINI Spoilers

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jaybug-jabbers · 1 year

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Bug Run 9: Running the Gauntlet

Next up, we have a bunch of major battles all in a row. I wanted to make sure I went into them just a liiiittle underlevelled, because I’ve been finding that if you are the same levels as your opponent in this game, it’s still too easy. Thus, I went into these fights at levels 55-56, and it turned out that this was a good choice, because I had some rather enjoyable battles as a result. I will try to summarize them here!

Clavell

I actually needed to do this battle a few times, because Fire Dog is scaaaary for my team and I needed to figure out how to deal with it. Also, it started to rain the second Clavell sent his ace out, Quaquaval, soooo yeah, my first run was kinda screwed at the end there. I nailed things down quickly enough, though.

I led with my Spidops (Lollipop) to get Sticky Web and two layers of Toxic Spikes up, and then stall out the Oranguru’s Reflect. Insomnia rarely comes in handy as an ability but it made Lollipop tailer-made to be the lead in this fight, since Yawn/Dream Eater is Clavell’s entire strat here. When Lollipop goes down, my Lokix (Hunter) finishes things off.

I gave my Rabsca (Fireball) an Occa Berry to survive Houndoom’s Fire Blast, but I suspect the AI cheats when it comes to these berries and they will avoid using a Fire move even though Clavell couldn’t possibly know my hold item. Anyway, Fireball could survive one Dark Pulse and get off an Earth Power before going down. Thankfully, Hunter is always around to mop things up at the end.

Naturally, the Abomasnow died to my Larvesta (Ra), but not without getting snow & and annoying Aurora Veil up first. I tried using Larvesta on the Polteageist, but that was a bad idea since it was just setting up Shell Smashes (+ Weak Armor). Hunter can take out the ghost before it becomes a menace, but he has to take a Will-o-Wisp as punishment, which kinda sucks.

On Amoongus, I have the luxury of using Tailwind and Reflect before killing it with my Frosmoth (Snowglobe). The mushroom does absorb the t-spikes though, because I am silly and forgot it could do that. The ace is left, and while it bodied me in previous fights with Aqua Step (the speed boost is awful!), this time my Vivillon (Pixel) prevailed with her Miracle-Seed-boosted Energy Ball. Pretty sure the Reflect is what saved us, because she could take that first Aqua Step and fire off a second Energy Ball (she still outsped, thankfully) and get the foe into the low red before perishing. Hunter coud then step in and Sucker Punch for the win.

Penny

Penny was certainly the easiest fight in the late-game gauntlet when I played the game the first time around. However, with a team of six bugs it’s a little bit harder, mainly because Flareon has Flare Blitz. I want to point out my team composition does a very poor job of balancing out our weaknesses. We have massive Fire, Rock and Flying weaknesses across the entire team. So that means we have to be pretty careful about these glaring weak spots.

I used my usual Spidops lead for Sticky Web and t-spikes, except instead of letting him faint I switched into Hunter to take care of the Umbreon. I needed Lollipop to send back out against the Flareon. I was hoping I could slow it down enough with Silk Trap for my remarkably slow Fireball to outspeed. Sadly, this is not the case, it still was not enough, but luckily the Flareon used Baby-Doll eyes first, so Fireball still could use his Earth Power. That plus the recoil from Flare Blitz took it out.

Leafeon was not an issue, of course (one Ice Beam and byebye). I knew Pixel’s Energy Ball didn’t do much against Vaporeon’s bulk, so I tried to use Hunter instead. It took a while, to be honest, but hacking away with Axe Kicks and terastallized-Lunges eventually worked (I got a lucky confusion and it hit itself a few times too). Jolteon died to Snowglobe’s Ice Beams, and Snowglobe could handle a little Thunder.

Finally, Sylveon. I brought back my Vespiquen, Ruby, just so she could use her Venoshock on the poisoned Slyveon. The hit did . . . surprisingly little, but she chipped away enough that the ace fell at the same time Ruby fainted. And thus, we completed the Team Star storyline. Next up, the Elites!

Rika

The ground-type Elite was not somebody I expected would give me any trouble, but there were a few tight spots. Donphan had Stone Edge, but fortunately was too slow to be a real threat for long. Camerupt was doable with Fireball’s Occa berry still in hand-- it melted to Earth Power. Really, the only hiccup was Dugtrio. Which seemed to have a supernatural, utterly ridiculous number of Flinches with its Rock Slides. That plus all the moves it evaded due to Sand Veil was truly tiresome. This did force a re-start of the match, but with identical strategy. Just this time, ever-so-slightly fewer Flinches. After that, the poop fish died to Snowball’s Ice Beams easily enough.

Poppy

This elite’s lead folded to two of Ra’s Flame Wheels. Corviknight is much spookier. I got a really good hit with Ice Beam, and that plus the recoil damage from Brave Bird meant that Hunter could Sucker Punch to finish things. Magnezone went down to Fireball’s Earth Powers without any trouble. I used Lollipop to slowly chip away at Bronzong until it yeilded. Tinkaton is intimidating, so I use Pixel to Stun Spore it, then Hunter gives it a nice Axe Kick. Hunter actually takes the Gigaton Hammer to the face pretty well. He finishes things off with a Throat Chop.

Larry

Things start to get serious here. Lollipop’s usual tricks (Sticky Web, Toxic Spikes) won’t work here. However, Larry’s opening poke isn’t so bad; I hit Tropius with Ra’s Flame Wheel. It decides to Sunny Day (lol) and then Solar Beam (lolol) and then goes down.

The rest are a bit trickier. I slow Staraptor down with a Silk Trap before going down to Brave Bird. Then Hunter can outspeed and Axe Kick the bird, and Brave Bird recoil takes care of the rest. The trouble is, I have to send a poke out now with no clue what Larry will pick next. He’s either gonna pick Alteria or Oricoro. I think he’s gonna choose Alteria so I send out Pixel.

OOPS, wrong answer. He sends out the electric Oricoro. I use Ra as death fodder to get a clean switch to Fireball. I Power Gem, which does a respectable chunk, but then go down to two Air Slashes. Snowglobe can finish things off, but she cannot outspeed so she takes a bug chunk of damage in the process. A scary sight when I am now down to my last two pokes. It was going to take a miracle to clear things now.

Alteria is out next. I send out Pixel to use Stun Spore. I knew I had to slow it down enough for my Frosmoth. I get a very lucky first-turn paralysis, so I’m free to try and attack it. I use Hurricane and also get lucky with some Confusion (although it doesn’t kick in). I’m hit with Flamethrower and survive. Hurricane looks to be a three-hit KO. But there’s no way I can survive another Flamethrower.

But Alteria gets paralyzed again. And Pixel finishes it off with two more Hurricanes.

Larry’s ace is Flamigo. Pixel is still around to perform her most vital task, using Stun Spore. She then goes down to Liquidation. Snowglobe is my last, and she’s a little under half health. Flamigo has Brave Bird, so Snowglobe needs to one-shot with Ice Beam to win. I wasn’t very familiar with Flamigo and didn’t realize how much of a glass canon it was, so I was so relieved that Slowglobe outsped and clinched the victory.

I fully admit that if Pixel hadn’t gotten lucky with paraylsis and soloed the Alteria, we would have lost, because Flamigo would have outsped my Frosmoth. (Also, Frosmoth probably could have one-shot Oricoro, so there would have been no need to sack Rabsca and Ra, and in that case, I would have been on much better footing to fight Alteria. Still, paralysis hax prevailed in the end!)

After this battle, the very very long wait was finally over . . . Larvesta evolved.

And what an opportune moment it was. We would need all the help we could get in our bid for becoming a Champion.

Hassel

Our team now at levels 57 - 59, we faced down the Dragon master. Lollipop led with his usual Sticky Web before perishing to the Noivern. Lucky for me, after I sent Slowglobe in, we got the Air Slash 5% miss, and thus got rid of Noivern cleanly. For Haxorous, I slowed it down even further with Pixel’s Stun Spore (& then died to Rock Tomb) so that Snowglobe could once again come in and get a clean kill. Flapple . . . um, I love Flapple dearly but that lad was obviously a freebie for my team. The final dragon, though, was Baxcaliber, an Ice Dragon with a terrifying new move, Glaive Rush. However, the good news was that all Gym Leaders and Elites in this game choose to terastallize their ace right away. So Baxcalibur became pure Dragon type, and Snowglobe had no trouble taking him down. This fight certainly made me thankful for the ice moth.

Geeta

To be perfectly frank, Geeta’s team was not the scariest team for me to face. In fact, it was almost trivial. Her Espathra was easy pickings for an all-bug team. Hunter crushed her with Lunge (she tried to use Dazzling Gleam on me, but I had terastallized and lost my weakness to it, so it was shrugged off). Hunter destoryed the Veluza and the Gogoat just as easily. The weird-looking Kingambit wasn’t going to survive an Overheat from a Volcarona, and an Avalugg certainly wasn’t going to be an issue either. The only actual threat was the ace, Glimmora. I had just Fiery Danced on the Avalugg and had a Sp Attack boost I didn’t feel like wasting, so I stayed in on the Glimmora just for funsies. I actually got two Overheats off on the darn thing before it finally decided to use its Tera Blast. I decided I would finish things off with the pokemon most dear to me, my little Pixel.

And that was it. Right? No more battles?

Well. Almost. There were a few more still to do.

Arven wasn’t any real problem; Fireball swept most of his team, and Hunter took care of Mabosstiff. Nemona was a little harder to face because of her opening Lycanroc. In the past, I dealt with it by using Lollipop to Counter. But her Lycanroc now knew Stone Edge, and that was just a bit too much for Lollipop to handle. Eventually I decide to slap a Charti Berry on Lol that I happened to have, and it did the trick!

The last fight of the main game, of course, is AI Sada. I did some planning before going in, because this one was a genuinely challenging one. She opens with Slither Wing, and Lol got his usual Sticky Web up. Pixel can then get a clean kill with Hurricane. She sent Flutter Mane out next, and I had Hunter Throat Chop. He barely survived the Power Gem, but he did have a small sliver of health left, so he could finish with Sucker Punch. I used Volcarona on Scream Tail, testing the waters with Fiery Dance, seeing it did way too little, and then just killing with Overheat. Sandy Shocks hits pretty hard but Fireball could just barely take it out with two Earth Powers. I discovered that Brute Bonnet was the perfect time to set up, because it couldn’t do much to Snowglobe; after a Reflect and Tailwind, I cleared it out with an Ice Beam and AI Sada deployed her ace. Roaring Moon is quite a terrifying beast, especially with a Stone Edge. One Ice Beam drops him to the low red, and Snowglobe falls to the Stone Edge. With Tailwind still at our backs, Pixel can step in and end things. Once and for all.

And with that, our gauntlet was complete.

#pokemon #bugrun #bugrun9 #pokemon playthroughs #pokemon s/v #pokemon scarlet #bug pokemon #long post #mycontent

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capncassas · 2 years

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Teammates Nothing More P.2

Summary: The team is beginning to notice Steve’s behavior whenever he’s around you and while he can’t admit anything, not even to himself – there are a few things he can’t deny.

Word Count: 866

Warning: 18+, Minors leave now, Smut, Cursing, Male Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Edging, Angst

Please don’t repost my writing anywhere, but do feel free to like, tag and reblog. If you would like to be added to my tag list send me a message.

Tag List: @littlebirdofrivia @smile-sugared-blog

“Care to tell me what that was about?”

Bucky asks, grabbing some tape to wrap his hands for a few rounds with the punching back. He’d never seen YN look so upset before. Normally, after spending any amount of time in Steve’s presence, she was a bubbly, glowing ball of giggles. But as of late since YN started training, all that changed.

Steve was different with YN. Harder, colder, not himself. Bucky never saw him act this way, so unlike his normal gentlemanly self. Especially around the opposite sex. He wasn’t a playboy by any means, but he was always gracious and charming, polite to a fault and occasionally, he did flirt.

That was not the way Steve treated YN.

It was different, and it made Bucky look more closely at the situation.

“It’s nothing.” Steve said, getting to his feet and moving to spot Bucky on the punching bag.

“Didn’t look like nothing to me.” He said.

Bucky rolled his shoulders, approaching the punching bag like it was his nemesis, and struck like a cobra. It wasn’t often that Steve Rogers was surprised. That alone told Bucky that something was up.

“She’s got a little crush.” Steve admitted.

Three more times Bucky’s wrapped knuckles blew dust from the punching bag as he glanced at his partner for a second.

Bucky’s dark brows trained higher on his forehead, as if he were shrugging with them. “I’ve seen crushes–that doesn’t look like a crush.” He grunted. “And I’ve seen the way you treat girls who have a crush on you, you’re downright cruel to her.”

He wouldn’t push, but Bucky definitely knew that something wasn’t right.

“I don’t want her getting the wrong idea about me, Buck.” Steve sighed.

He knew treating you like dirt, drilling you harder than everyone else, was the wrong way to go about this, but he didn’t know what else to do. They’d lost so many people already. The last person he could stand was losing you. The way he felt about you was different.

“You like her.” Bucky asserted.

“I don’t.” Steve snapped, shoving the punching bag back at Bucky as he walked away, ripping the tape off his hands.

Behind Steve’s back, Bucky smirked. “Yeah, ya do.” He said with a laugh in towards Steve’s back.

“You know,” Bucky began and was swiftly cut off.

“Can it, Barnes.” Steve barked, tossing the soiled tape into the trash as he left the gym.

—

Shoving the door open, Steve walked into his room and reached back, grabbing his shirt, and pulled it over his head. Agitation boiled in his veins.

It wasn’t true.

His throat tightened as he kicked his shoes off, this time around, not bothering with putting them in the row of shoes in his closet. He went straight to the bathroom and turned on the lights; he didn’t like using the AI. Whatever happened to the days when you had to flip a switch?

It wasn’t true.

It couldn’t be.

He was just trying to keep you from making rookie mistakes in the field, but he couldn’t deny what he felt when you took him by surprised, flipping him on his ass and he felt the heat of your body, your core so close to him sitting over his chest.

“Fuck,” Steve cursed under his breath as he pealed his pants and boxers off and the raging hard-on that was plastered against his lower abdomen since you ran out of the gym.

He turned the water on the hot, letting it burn his skin as he stepped beneath the spray, lowering his head beneath the water, his right hand gripping his cock as he began a desperate rhythm. His oceanic blue eyes squeeze shut as he groaned.

The sensation of your lips being crushed against his as he thought of pushing your back against the tiles of the shower, the satin of your thigh against his hip as he plunged into your depths.

Had you ever been with anyone? Were you virgin tight?

A choked growl erupted from his chest at the thought, practically bucking into his hand as he heard the sweet mewling squeal breaking from your lips as he broke that barrier and claimed you as his.

“Shit, YN.” Steve hissed through his teeth, the pull in his abdomen beginning to burn as his orgasm built and his hand slowed. Gripping his balls in one hand as his shaft throbbed, begging for that release. His chest heaved – burning as he ground his teeth together.

He wouldn’t give in to this.

You wouldn’t break him. No matter what he felt. You would not be another teammate lost. He couldn’t stand another heartbreak.

If something happened to you, he couldn’t bare it. He wouldn’t let himself go there, not even now, when no one was watching, where no one would know.

His moans broke into choking sobs hidden in the showers spray as he leaned back against the nails and let it wash over him.

Whatever it took, Steve would keep you off the team, it was selfish yes. But… if keeping you alive was selfish then he was the most selfish son of a bitch standing.

#Teammates Nothing More #Part 2 #Reblog #Captain America #Captain America x Reader

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runawaymun · 3 years

Note

hi! could you make an Aragorn x reader where the reader loves to read and loves to write get has anger issues and can get really cold to people when she’s hurt and Aragorn is trying to support and comfort and scold her at the same time? thanks thanks!

Aragorn x Fem!Reader ~ Scribe

genre: hurt/comfort, romance warnings: injury - broken arm. But it’s just a plot point and doesn’t happen within the story. for: @elisethewildwolf reader pronouns: she/her

Of all four limbs you could have broken, of course it had to be your dominant arm. Why couldn’t it have been a leg, or something? At it stands, you're doomed to putter around with your arm in a sling, clumsily trying to eat with your non-dominant hand, disallowed from riding (lest you fall and either make your injury worse or break the other arm), and mostly confined to the healing halls of Imladris so the healers can keep a close eye on you.

Board games and walks can only keep you entertained for so long. Of course there was no shortage of good books to read, but even that’s starting to get a little old. What you really want to be doing is writing. You have so many new ideas and it’s driving you mad that you’re unable to write any of them down.

After a rather explosive argument with one of the more fussy healers, you disappear to your room and take out a sheet of paper, determined to at least take some notes so you won’t lose your idea, but every time you try and put the quill to the paper the ink runs and blots and bleeds. It’s impossible to get the nib to hit the paper at the right angle and your letters are coming out all wrong.

Frustrated, you ball the paper up in one fist and chuck it behind you as hard as you can.

The door opens, and a surprised: “Ai!” meets your ears.

You turn to see Aragorn in the door, wiping at his forehead with the back of one grubby sleeve to try and rid himself of a black smudge the still-wet ink had left.

“You ought to learn to control your temper, my lady.”

You shoot him a glare. “Learn better reflexes.”

“What did this poor piece of parchment ever do to you that you treat it thus?”

You grumble something under your breath and turn back to your desk. Your hand is stained with blue ink. Aragorn comes over, notices, and stops by the washbin to wet a cloth and then kneels in front of you to take your hand and clean it. The cloth is cool against your skin. When he finishes, he brings your hand up to his mouth to kiss your palm.

“Mírion was only trying to be helpful,” he says. His tone belies his disapproval.

You look away from him to glower out the window, watching a hummingbird flit between the celandines in the windowbox. “I’m tired of everyone fussing over me.”

“And your arm will not heal if you refuse to rest.”

“I’m going to go mad!”

“You will not, and even if you did I would still love you the same and I am quite sure Lord Elrond would have some cure,” he says with a wry grin. He squeezes your hand. “Come, now. Tell me what truly troubles you. If I can help in any way, I will.”

You give him a dry look that melts a little when he squeezes your hand again. He looks up at you so earnestly with those intense bright blue eyes that you can’t help but soften. You huff.

“I have this idea that has been buzzing around my brain for the past few days and I can’t write it down. I can’t write anything down.”

“And you fear you’ll forget it?” he prods.

Miserably, you nod. Aragorn stands and pulls up the reading chair to sit by your writing desk and reaches for a fresh sheet of parchment and picks the quill up from where you’ve left it.

“Then tell me, and I will take notes for you. You can expand on it when you can write again.”

Why hadn’t you thought of that? You crack a smile and lean over to kiss him. “Thank you!”

He kisses you back and nudges your shoulder affectionately, glad to see you happy again. “You are most welcome. Now, tell me this idea of yours...”

#aragorn x reader #aragorn #aragorn imagine #lotr imagine #lotr #And Rohan Will Answer! (Requests)#gif isn't mine #i haven't written aragorn before so this was a nice challenge #thank you!!#i hope you like it <3

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worldsover · 4 years

Text

Judgement to the Desiccated ft. Karina

length ✦ 5573

genres ✧ sm type future; asphyxiation; blackmail; virtual_servant!Karina;

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Air did a poor job of not being polluted so Lee Soo Man flooded the world instead. The man himself certainly must be long gone and could not have been in charge of that decision but the legacy of his company far exceeds the legacy of any other human collective in history. Once on this planet, gas was the fluid of choice for respiration and breathing was an unconscious reflex. Now there’s Aether by SM. How very on-brand of them to have the liquid air you breathe follow perfume naming conventions.

Open your eyes and exit the sleeping chamber. Aether has you work for each inhalation, it desaturates the color of the bedroom—maybe there’s a subtle but uncomfortable tinge of yellow—and it makes your nose itch. Your muscles wield much less force than they used to because of the lack of resistance the fluid provides. Moreover, it smells like hairspray as though the ozone layer is taking sardonic revenge.

Screens impersonating windows track your eyes to ensure realistic parallax, playing the scene of divine blue heavens that could not exist. An azure sky is a reward for those planets that have an atmosphere and a sun for light to scatter. Your walls are either chrome or drywall white and your whole bedroom is plainly decorated just like the day you moved in.

“Etymology of bedroom,” you think out loud, though it falls on no ears.

“Bedroom is a compound noun consisting of bed and room. Bed goes back to Old English bedd ‘sleeping place, plot of ground prepared for plants,’ which goes back to the Germanic-”

Plants and sleep are both strong words to use nowadays. The former doesn’t exist in nature and it seems you’re the only one who bothers with the latter. Faint buzzing distracts you from the AI’s response and signals you to the nano drones that swim throughout the liquid to process carbon dioxide from your lungs. This whole ordeal could’ve been much worse if you didn’t have brain interfaces doing the hard part of controlling your diaphragm. The most you need is a purposeful thought. Still, it gets tiring having to think the same thought every three seconds. In. Out.

Was the metaphorical Soo Man teaching a lesson in perseverance? You love K-pop and imagine it’s how trainees used to practice dancing, singing, being charismatic. Being an idol had to be as natural as breathing air. Inhale and exhale. Right now with any antiquated programming language you clung on to, you could write a single for loop that did the same job. For every three seconds: breathe in, breathe out.

“What’s for breakfast today?” Not loud enough. “What’s for breakfast?” you think it louder.

“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready for service.” It’s quite a kindness for SM to blur the bland dystopia you live in by augmenting reality through your neural device. A bosomy woman in a gold-lined but otherwise modest maid outfit appears from the corner of your eye and she bows. Ae-Karina is bewitching and almost becoming of her basis as its graphics have gradually upgraded over the rotations but you wouldn’t misconstrue the avatar as human.

“I said, what’s for breakfast!” It feels impolite to scream in your head, there’s other residents there, but finally the fridge lights up.

“Of course master. May I remind you eating is unnecessary?”

In. Out. Every day, she does remind you, yes. How kind of the company to put all your nutritional requirements in the new air. Aether goes in then Aether goes out. You wish the thoughts of breathing could fade into the background but they’re just like your cravings for food. Always hungry but never starving, whole though not once satisfied. Your eyes pause at her gorgeous face and she tells you there’s bacon. Take it from your fridge. Bacon goes in. Well, the drones take care of the out.

Your assigned living space is the entire 207th floor of a tower. Two hundred and seven floors below the surface. The neighbor a few floors upstairs says that he thinks living deeper is a sign of status. What a luxury. That guy should check the status of his facial muscles, maybe improve his code that lets him tell lies while he’s at it. A couple hundred flights of stairs to swim up is a useless skeuomorphism of skyscrapers in the days of the sun. In fact they were more than useless, you would've preferred a single vertical hallway as it would have let you propel upwards unimpeded. Each floor is the exact same, a glass door that affords no privacy for its residence, a false tree on each side. At the upper levels, malls, convenience stores and other gaudy retail, but it’s the gyms that mock you that you mock in return. They’re always empty.

Finally reaching the top is no true break even if it is a change in scenery. Inhale. Aether tastes a little different up here. Exhale. Can’t say you like it.

Countless satellites form a parody of the star from which the planet flew away, the false image refracted by the upper boundary of Aether. They can’t take away your memories of this star. Looking up at the sky once blinded you with ultraviolet radiation, burning your cornea. It was beautiful. Now everyone’s decided that if they’re playing the part of corporate dystopia, they might as well fit the aesthetic. In a way, it’s self-fulfilling. They wouldn’t have chosen a neon pink sun to compliment the blue and metallic gloom of the cityscape if it weren’t so ingrained in popular media already.

Still, you would’ve expected Google or Walmart to become the megacorp responsible for the state of the world, not a Korean entertainment company. Must’ve been quite the red paperclip scenario. Instead of material design or utilitarian architecture, tacky artistic structures line the streets. The same advertisements for albums that they’ve been selling for the past however long. It's all so obvious, the city could've been designed from scratch to accommodate new forms of travel and goddamn liquid air but instead they went with futuristic Tokyo.

Dubstep permeates your inner ear implants. A notification informs your thoughts that it’s “Hip-hop EDM dance pop with a strong jungle house groove and urban influences.” It’s dubstep. Liquid carries barely any sound so SM affords the option for implants if you're nostalgic for one of the senses. Even though it’s a slower form of communication than direct neural transfer, the noise comforts you. Of course the company would choose dubstep as their background music, but maybe they make money off refunds somehow. It switches to Ice Cream Cake. Much better.

You walk the not so busy roads towards a short brick warehouse in the distance and heavy rain soaks your clothes. No such thing as weather without the sun and water but it’s all simulated anyway.

A warm Seulgi adlib and you know it’s Psycho that starts playing. No, none of your senses are real. The most you could trust is your vision but even that’s being lied to. You could be living in a vat and fed all these thoughts, but then why make it so mediocre? Not paradise, nor torture but a lukewarm in-between. Guess that's what happens when SM Entertainment manages the post-apocalypse. Good on them for trying. The alternative would be a frozen hellscape without solar radiation. Can’t deny their work with geothermal and nuclear energy to keep the Aether warm so that you didn’t have to live underground for the rest of human history. It’s quite great PR to save humanity.

“Hey now, we’ll be okay,” repeats a few more times than you remember.

The Idea Factory Alpha White Delta Green says the neon tubes lighting the front of the brick and mortar building. Your ID card bears a name but it’s not yours, not until they approve your name change. Those usually get processed faster with how often people liked changing their names.

Sit at a desk with a sterile white keyboard and slick new monitor. Type and empty words appear on the screen: “Think for the many, not for the one. We need to think ahead.” A thumbs up. The company appreciates the input. That’s probably enough work for one day. Some SNSD live stages help the time pass, SM certainly appreciated the streaming numbers and it would net you some social points.

It’s hard to say what comes to mind when they ask you to envision a world without the sun and air, especially since it’s what you’ve known for... Two hundred years? There’s no frame of reference, that much you can tell from when you counted seconds to see how often the satellites completed their orbit. SM really took time to have them propel at random speeds, they love withholding sensitive information like that from citizens. To be fair, time is sensitive. Guess the meaning of that phrase changes like all parts of language.

Look around. Dozens of employees at identical workspaces all try to answer the same questions. Naturally, there’s no need for manual labor anymore but there will never be a replacement for human ingenuity. Nice slogan but you know you’re only here for data. Can’t see a need for customer retention though—what’s the alternative, skip Earth? See you on another planet?

“Hey bro, you come up with anything new?” Dave says. Two desks away, you see the enthusiastic, surprisingly spry man play around with a Newton’s cradle. The balls at each end bounce back and forth, not slowing down their rhythm any time soon.

“I think I got something,” you say, “Earth is not the answer. It can’t be, long term.”

“Ooh, I like that. Actually, I really like that.”

“What are you gonna do, copy me?”

“Of course not. You know how much SM hates plagiarism.” Click. Clack.

“Ha. As if there’s a single original thought left in the world.” Click. Clack. The imaginary sounds of metal spheres bouncing play in your mind. They got the volume wrong, no way it’d sound that loud from that distance. “You’d think with all their resources, they’d have figured out space travel by now.”

“I don’t think they want to leave, bro. Wouldn’t be great for profits.”

Your mouth opens to laugh and causes laugh8942.mp3 to play in Dave’s head. “I love it. SM probably hates that sass too,” you say.

“Oh no, they’re gonna arrest me for thoughtcrimes. Nah, they love creativity, just when it suits them. Also, if they actually did bust you for wrongthink like rumors say, I wouldn’t have this on me.” Dave twirls a finger and points at you and you thank his absurd flair for the histrionic that keeps you amused with such drab work.

“NewDrug.mp6. Would you like to play it?” the dry system voice notifies you.

“Woah woah there tiger, hold on.” Dave must’ve noticed your intrigued eyes and holds his hands up. “You might wanna experience that at home. But if you’re interested in more, ask for chicken parm at the vegan place. You know the one.”

Dave leaves his desk. He doesn’t return. You finish your work. Inspire. Expire. You’d rather not.

In contrast to your commute to work, the roads fill with others on your way home. You have to know. Take solace in the comfort of a bench where a huge McDonald’s arch bathes the surroundings and its people with a yellow glow. Really shouldn’t watch it now, especially if Dave says it’s a home type of watch but you have to know. A family of five watches you pass out. They, along with every other passerby, ignore your still body draped over the chrome outdoor seating as you look like yet another junkie. The title is correct after a fashion, the simulation is some sort of new drug. The details of the exploits that happen in the immersive replay wash over you but you don’t need them to know that it’s the sort of lewd that SM would not allow—at least not publicly and not without the right exorbitant payment.

Suit pants and underwear go straight to the laundry. That must’ve been an embarrassing sight but no one bothered to stop you, so it doesn’t matter. Look up where this vegan place was that Dave so presumptuously assumed you knew about and you find that it’s about four Avengers’ stores down from work. He must’ve eaten there before.

“Yo Dave, just wanna make sure, what’s the name of the vegan place called?”

“What are you talking about, man? You telling me there’s some secret underground farms that SM wouldn’t know about?”

You can’t tell when you got to work, a lack of standardized timing would help as well the haze of living in a monotonous dark. “Nah, I mean, for the-”

“I have no idea,” Dave emphasizes each word, “what you’re talking about.”

“I see.”

Work flies by, unusually.

“Hey, can I get a chicken-”

“Uh, this is Maron’s Veggies Only, it clearly says on the sign.”

Clear your throat. “Parm.”

The shifty part-time worker looks around and rubs his fingers gesturing for money. “No digital.”

Over the counter, you pass him a gold coin stamped with a holographic 1 and he hands you a USB stick and a laptop in return. How old-fashioned.

“It’ll sync with whoever you have set as your avatar experience aspect,” the worker says.

“Thanks.”

Ever vigilant as the patrol is, the alleys are the last place you want to go to hide with the obvious criminal element within them all but you head to one anyway. Dump the anachronistic technology in your storage pocket dimensions. Looking at its contents, you’d have to clean that mess up later, but the more you look like an average slob the better. The biggest problem with the inventories is all the people squatting in them. Inspectors wouldn’t care about the archaic ruins you left in yours.

“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready to service.”

“I’d like to go on a date. A special date.” You highlight the key word special and sit on your living room couch. No one’s going to look in your glass door and regardless, you wouldn’t be the pervert for glimpsing into someone’s home.

“Ah yes, master. Ae-Karina is ready to fully service,” she says with a provocative tint in her tone, her sclera disperses to black to match. A pole drops from the ceiling while parts of her maid outfit dissolve which reveals more of the silky skin of her thighs, her lissom arms and most importantly her overflowing breasts. Ae-Karina wraps her legs around the pole and spins around, teasing fingers trace curves on her body to harden you. Her dance is precise but sultry regardless. She pulls up her short skirt to flaunt more of her ass beneath white panties and then pulls down to flourish her cleavage, not trapped by a bra. “Are you enjoying your maid’s show?”

“Very much so, yes,” you say.

Half of a smile forms before a glitch occurs and she teleports next to you, fully nude. It doesn’t pull you out of the illusion however. You just stare and drink in the splendor of her created body.

“You’re not going to touch?” Ae-Karina says.

A feel of her tits and you find it softer than pillows you used to rest on. Soft isn’t much of a character that exists anymore when the whole world is engulfed in liquid. No one has beds, especially with the rarity of sleep. Therefore, her mounds are a consummate dedication to the texture as you squeeze and pinch at her cute nipples.

Her maid outfit rematerializes as she straddles you. It provides more friction to your pants as she begins her lap dance. The weight of her body dragging across your legs and clothed erection induces your carnal impulses further. If only you could fuck the virtual idol. You have to make do with the imprint of her pussy lips on your bulge sliding up and down. Breath in. Breath out.

Ae-Karina pulls down your boxers and spits on your erection. It's not real but her hands so slick on your cock and you let reality slip. Real is for the past, you have desires gratified in the present. There is no real person nibbling at your neck but your nerves activate in sexual desire without discernment for truth. No, she doesn't love you, but when the voracious mass of ones and zeroes says it loves its master, you say it back.

"I love you."

ILOVEYOU infected ten million computers in 2000. An explosion. Calibration engaging. It’s 1:21 PM, Sunday, July 18, 2286 and hypothetically the sun would be out in its full rage. At this latitude and longitude, you’re at what was once the epicenter of all—Seoul, where a fountain caused a chain reaction allowing the hopeful remnant of a world to exist. It lasted a surprisingly long time without the sun and without Aether but the dying planet would succumb inevitably to the ever-increasing contamination so SM of all corporations took charge. A different kind of chain reaction occurred when they acquired a restaurant chain that discovered the recipe for liquid air. The law is on its way and prepared to punish you to its full extent.

You reel while your ears ring. An even sexier version of the woman you already fantasized about appears from your peripheral vision in the crater of your floor. A skimpy cop outfit, striated with reflective material that seems to wane black at different angles, outlines Karina’s curves. She has a tool belt with absurd gadgets, such as a knife baton hybrid, a taser combined with a spray bottle and a Tamagotchi. None of this is necessary. They could just immediately arrest you, impose limitations on your devices. Sure, SM cloned people to deal with underpopulation, but why Karina would be the enforcer is a whole nother issue. Maybe the entertainment company loves their irony?

“Halt. You’re under arrest. Any resistance will be penalized according to the combined Terms of Service of all SM and SM associated products.”

Fucked anyway, you figure you might as well go for it. Escape into your inventory and only seconds later you’re forced out. You manage to get what you need regardless.

“Violation of access rights will be charged to your account.”

It’s so obvious but there’s a reason you kept so much gold in physical storage. As you swim away, the sides of your apartment start to bubble. Bubbles? Already, your limbs feel unsteady. Something’s wrong in the Aether.

“This is standard procedure for escaping suspects that are indoors. Again, this is all agreed to under the Terms of Service.”

“When the fuck did I ever click accept to that shit?”

“When you were born in this world and decided you want to stay in it,” Karina says out loud. You hear her say it. Your physical ears process the vibrations in the air that come from her mouth. Gravity thwarts your desperate escape as your limp body floats on the limit between liquid and air. The atrophy of your muscles becomes apparent within the gaseous atmosphere. She watches you sink down as the room drains of all the false air though her eyebrows crease when she inspects you closer. Your breaths are involuntary. Despite your muscles shorting out, the force of gravity and the pressure of the gas bearing down on you, you’re breathing and you don’t mean to. Her eyes wander farther down. On your pants, a concrete rod stamps the fabric.

“Oh, you like what you see?”

“Shut up, criminal. Anything you say can and will be used against you.”

“Your pussy,” you say and she scoffs.

“Original.” Karina bites her lip as your erection continues to grow behind its prison. You use all effort to put your hands up.

“Please, miss Karina. I’ve been bad.”

“I could punish you even more for sexual assault.”

“Then do it.”

Heat radiates the room in a way you haven’t felt in a while and droplets of sweat form on each of your bodies, especially on the thighs that her revealing outfit parades. Her facial features contort in deliberation and the wait kills you. You bat your eyes at her before Karina takes off her tight shorts and drops herself into your anticipatory face. This makes no sense but none of this life made any sense so you decide to go with the tides.

Centuries of training your respiration has led to this moment, but when you finally have real air to breathe, you spit at the opportunity and choose to suffocate. Then you spit at her pussy and lap it up. Karina’s nectar transfixes your olfactory glands, for once a smell that isn’t the sterile Aether. Your eyes are mesmerized in parallel because of the perfect design of her pussy, a single crease that leads into her hole that your tongue emphatically explores. Karina spreads her thighs wide to reveal a small nub that craves attention. So give it. Suck and swirl and flick your tongue, and the woman provides you the tight clench of her legs as a gift. And the sounds, rediscovered glorious noise. Loud, almost too loud, and clear is how they assault your ears, even surrounded by the flesh of her thighs. Muffled by the weight of her legs, you hear Karina moan in approval but she’s still clearly in charge with how she chokes you with her legs. This is not about your pleasure but hers, and any satisfaction that you derive is not only incidental but probably punishable by SM copyright law.

Karina squirms her hips subtly on your mouth. Her eyes are sharp and she’s just about to stop your hands from moving but she notices them clasp together.

“I’ll do anything to make you cum, please.” you say sloppily as her pussy juices fill your cheeks and drip down your chin.

“God. I can’t.” She takes deep, contemplative breaths. ”That’s more time added on for inappropriate behavior.” Her groaning and brief squeals make her words sound incogent.

You give her a concluding lick and a kiss on her slit. “So what have you been doing right now then?”

Point to a corner of the room and a subtle red light indicates a recording camera. At once, she pulls out a hose from a pocket that could not fit it and the vacuum submerges the room with noise. Her expression shifts quickly to serious.

“We don’t play games here in SMTOWN unless it’s SuperStar so don’t fuck with me.”

“Look who's trying to be a comedian. How about you fuck with me any further and the video gets released.”

“That’s funny, you think you have any sort of power-”

“Yoo Jimin, I suggest you don’t push me more.”

“Where do you know that name from? Right now.” She weighs herself down on your neck.

“You think I don’t have contingencies for if I die too? Karina, we can make this a win-win scenario. We both get to cum, we both get to walk away unscathed.”

“Fuck you.”

Your weak arms wander between her thighs. At any moment, a feeble punch towards your face or another ten seconds of asphyxiation and she could call your bluff. Even if you did have the ability to expose her perversions in any way, there would be no permanent recourse, not as long SM was in charge. So it surprises you when Karina takes off her shorts.

“Goddammit. Your cock just looks too good. And your mouth, how are you so good with it?” Put up five fingers when she motions to remove her top as well, and instead she opts to take off your clothes, seizing your pants and throwing them to join the rubble in the room.

A finger slips in, then two and a third dares. Her flawlessly architected pussy lips clings to your digits and Karina shudders in reply. You explore her wetness and find it’s smooth to the point of having no faults, but her juice inside is gloppy and causes your fingers to stick more than the liquids she spills from her slit.

“Who said you’re allowed to have more?”

You lap up the nectar on your fingers. “Then why’d they make you taste so good?”

Your thumb teases her sweet tight asshole and puts just the slightest amount of pressure on it while you finger her with more intensity. The mass of her butt burdens your torso the closer she gets to orgasm. Her eyelids squeeze close and you see her body ripple in anxious pleasure. Karina shows off her pearly whites, teetering on the cliff of hysteria.

“Yes, yes! I’m so close,” she screams.

"Not yet."

“Fuck." Karina sobs, "God. Damn, fuck I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Just fuck me.”

“My pleasure,” you say. There’s no need for you to grab her since she brings herself down to your groin, which you’re thankful for as your arms are as good as jelly now. Fortunately, your cock throbs as hard as ever while Karina’s slit rests on it.

“Say you’ll delete it all, all the evidence, promise me.”

“You’re gonna fuck me first or what?” Your breath hitches while she makes a strangled noise as her velvety walls swallow your cock whole to leave no room for comfort. Her tightness is stifling and you have to start counting just to breathe again.

“One two-”

“Be quiet.”

But there is no quiet when pleas for your cooperation intersperse her excessive profanities when she seats herself into your cock and ricochets up and down. Sweat emanates from her creamy skin while her legs widen to find a better angle for her supporting knees in her cowgirl position. Grapefruit and other citrus mingle with the scent of the sweat, fruits you haven’t seen except on billboards in music videos. As much as your mind crackles and your blood roars for every atmosphere of pressure Karina’s walls provide on each thrust in and out, you can’t help but reminisce on sweeter, more innocent times.

The white fluorescent lights in your apartment sputter. For all the advancements in technology, some among many things never change. Light refracts differently in air, less bright, but you can see the pure enjoyment on Karina’s face no matter the luminescence. Karina slows her ride to pull her hips down harder instead and she jolts when your cock finds the most tender spots inside her pussy and it interrupts her babbling.

Karina almost hyperventilates when she gets up to spit on your cock. She pulls out some kind of meter from her tool belt and sighs when there’s no beeping and you recognize it having to do with carbon dioxide. She gets back to dribbling saliva and the filament trailing down to your shaft mesmerizes you. This spit is real, not simulated, and it wettens your erection in a mix with her pussy juices to paralyze you further in your already listless state. Her bare thighs jiggle and you can’t exert much force with your hands but her buttcheeks are firm with just a bit of give.

“Thank you for this cock, thank you for being bad,” Karina says as you watch her ass sink deeper while her pussy holds your dick taut. She’s frenetic when bounces up and down to play an unadulterated orchestra of slick noises between your groins.

“You’re welcome,” you accomplish getting out the words between planned breaths. Your hands cup her buttcheeks but you fear they may break with how she strikes her ass into you.

Karina turns around once more to give you the spectacle of her facial expressions as she fucks herself into you. Knead her calves laying on your torso and they take no energy to spread them though she brings them back together, compressing your hard shaft within her pussy. A new game you play with her, a separate rhythm of loosening and tightening. Her feet press on your chest to help her bounce, but the way they bear down on your lungs against the timing of your breathing causes you to fumble. Your cock bends straight forward as she plunges herself into you and it sends prickles to your entire skin, making the new angle difficult but worth it. Karina takes your hand and starts sucking on your fingers.

“You want my promise that bad?” you say.

“Yes, as bad as I want your cum. I swear, I need it.”

She draws her knees up to her torso and hugs her legs to keep thighs as tight together as possible. Karina couldn’t keep her word, she was trying to kill your cock with constriction.

“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight. God, Karina, fuck. You’re so good.” Even if good isn’t the word you want to use to describe her.

“Do it, please, please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby. Karina can be a good girl, a good maid, a good cop, whatever you want. Just don’t get me in trouble, please.”

Karina’s mouth stops saying words though her lips writhe, drunk in increasing lust. Her cheeks flush, before the rest of her skin joins in redness while she grapples your chest and whatever spare limb she can find. You still struggle wresting control of your body but nature seems to take over when you drive yourself into her and match her needy cadence. The air in the room is replaced by a new air but it isn’t Aether. Passion, sweat, heat and all fluids that you both exude join squelching sounds, slaps and moans in harmonic bliss when her body tenses and she screams. As her body tightens, her pussy especially holds your cock for dear life and endeavours to wring out all your semen as her wetness throbs and spills. Karina starts counting to three repeatedly and you laugh though your amusement quickly subsides when you feel her juices become more viscous and she continues her ride, even in the dying pulses of her climax.

“Was I good?” Karina asks.

Just a moment goes by before you mentally send her a screenshot of all the recordings being deleted. Karina hasn’t stopped fucking you yet so at least it wasn’t a ploy.

“Thank you, thank you, I love you.” The flexion of her pliant legs brings them all the way back to rest on top of your legs. Karina lays prone above you and finally give you a kiss. The citrusy flavor may be closer to lime than grapefruit but it’s been so long that you can’t remember which scent is which. Lips crash and her tongue lashes out at yours trying to establish dominance. Keep still to let her investigate your mouth while her pussy does the same to your shaft.

You savor the way Karina’s top emphasizes the bouncing of her tits synchronous with the rebounding of her waist on your cock, but your mouth waters when she frees them. Take the shortest moment to relish in the sight before Karina smothers you with her plump globes. You wriggle your face to try to breathe. Inhale, up and exhale, down, but all you inhale is the scent of her orbs’ sweat. Her hips undulate with a pace at least double yours breathing and the echoes of slapping flesh resonate throughout the air-filled chamber. The loudness is unlike any you’ve experienced in a long time. It’s almost a flashbang every time her ass slams into your lap, especially as you start to see white when orgasm threatens to overload you with preludial pulses.

The last words you hear infected ten million computers in 2000. Fade to black. Cut. You’re slammed out of existence back into existence as a sun rebirths both within you, heating your core to a dangerous high, and from your eyes, dazzling you in an unforgiving white light. In the throes of unconsciousness relapsing to consciousness back to tenebrosity, your streaks of semen suspend in the Aether like a dead tree resting from the wind. What flashes your mind in its orgasmic state are two things only you would remember, plants and weather. Your hyperventilation is unconscious but not unwelcome, as it’s the first time in a while your breaths were reflexive even in the liquid air. However, basking in your newfound power, you start to choke. Right. You breathe in and out again. In and out. In. Out. In. Out. Back in.

“Replaying KarinaArrestsYou.mp6.” A hint of vexatious glee in the system’s otherwise dry voice. You don’t stop for it.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

It’s pretty silly but the idea danced around in my head ever since I saw the absolute Black Mirror concept that SM had for aespa and I concur that Karina is insanely hot.

As I’m writing this, this Kurzgesagt video on the idea of a rogue Earth comes out and now I have to rewrite stuff to make it at least a little consistent. I’m obviously already going nuts with all these ridiculous sci-fi concepts but this video almost feels too targeted to me writing this for me to ignore it.

#kpop smut #aespa smut #male reader #reader insert #title tracks

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docleonidas · 2 years

Text

Security Breach: Aftermath

Part 13

At six am every day, the automatic shutters wind up at the front lobby. Only a few staff members are already waiting to enter, this early start isn't really needed for most. Luis Cabrera yawned as he ducked under the rising shutter, waving off a few other early starters.

He was pretty noticeable amongst the group, his Spanish heritage giving him a tanned complexion. His wavy brown hair drifted over his eyes and he quickly swept it back, noticing the doctor heading along the upper floor, making for the stairs.

Luis climbed up, a couple of systems tech guys heading past to the elevator. It seemed like the lab coat wearing lion figure was waiting specifically for him.

"Hey Doc, something wrong?" He asked, head tilted up to watch the robots eyes. "Well, I do have an issue or two that cropped up. " The doctor sighed. "Can you meet me in parts and services in about half an hour?"

Luis raised an eyebrow. The doctor he'd helped program wasn't usually one to be so roundabout in his explanations. "Alright... I have to clock in at my desk downstairs first, so that should be plenty of time. Should I bring my tools?" The Doctor nodded. "It may not be necessary, but it cannot hurt in this situation."

As the Doc headed back to the medical center, Luis pondered the request. It frankly worried him, but also intrigued him that the AI of the robots was changing. At the same time.....

The guy pulled out his phone, dialing someone from his contact list. "Hey Ness, can you come in a little early today?"

It was a little late when the ding of an elevator made the small group in parts and services glance up. Chica had left earlier, wanting to practice her guitar. She found it therapeutic, and Roxanne had claimed to want to do her hair, but really was just looking for a reason to tease one of the workers coming in later for an ego boost.

Monty had surprisingly refused to leave Gregory, deciding that he could at least be useful, and while it was obvious Gregory was still nervous around him, (or any of the robots to be fair) he seemed to be calmer around them. The doctor took that as good progress.

Bonnie had joined the group, the rabbit laying on the floor with his legs up a wall as he tossed a ball up and down, just enjoying the company. Gregory, who had only seen him briefly the previous night, had been rather intrigued at his design, the yellow star over the rabbits left eye a striking contrast to the purplish blue of his fur. His dual colored eyes, one blue, one purple, helped make him stand out, though he was still wearing a bowling outfit. Apparently a new glamrock outfit was being produced for him.

Luis entered from the stage access elevator, raising an eyebrow at Bonnie on the floor alongside him was officer Vanessa, who was cradling a carton of coffee and still waking up.

"Doc? What's with the kid?" Asked Luis, causing Vanessa to glance over and promptly spray a mouthful of hot coffee across the floor. "Gregory you little BRAT!" She raged, hurling the coffee across the room against the wall. She stormed over as Luis tried to calm her down.

Gregory ducked behind Monty, starting to panic again as Vanessa stomped over, but she knew enough about his programming and dragged the boy out from behind the gator with ease. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you caused?"

So it was a bit of a surprise when instead of continuing to chastise and yell she pulled the boy into a tight hug. Gregory didn't know how to react and stood frozen for a moment before she let go and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"I'm glad you're OK, but what would your parents say about you running around here?" She started. "You could have gotten hurt or broken something or....or..." She faltered, seeing the look on the boys face.

Tears ran down his face as his chin quivered, and he quickly rubbed his face to wipe them away, replacing his emotions with a scowl. "Like you care. You're only interested in blaming me for what happened." The security guard opened her mouth to respond, but thought better of it. "Besides, I still think you're that knife welding lunatic." He continued, huffing and crossing his arms.

"Gregggggory. Apologise to herrr at once. We do not have prooooof of her doing anything but her j j j job." Came Freddy's voice from inside the chamber.

Luis tilted his head. "Wait..... is that the original Freddy in there?" He asked incredulously, walking forwards to peer in as Gregory apologised, (in a rather forced tone of voice).

The chamber door was already open and he walked over to the prone bear on the large worksurface. "That you big guy?" He asked, patting the bear on the shoulder pad. "It is good to sssssee you again headdd technician Luuuis." The malfunctioning bear replied, eyes blinking slowly.

The Doctor had entered the chamber behind Luis. "I had to do a patch job, his system was on the verge of total degradation from, I'm assuming, multiple incorrect chargings. A lot of systems had shorted or burned out when he was brought in." The doctor explained as Luis earned around, examining what he could without initiating maintainance mode.

"Freddy, we're going to have to work on you through today just to make sure we get you stable. You won't be at peak efficiency for a few days at least." Luis admitted. "I was due to switch the daycare attendant back to normal mode today, but I think I can swing a day to get him working." He said, turning to the doctor. "If you can work on hardware, I can run tests on his software, it'll be much faster that way."

The Doctor nodded, making to reply as Luis' radio crackled to life. "Luis? We're all ready on this end." Came a voice. He quickly unhooked it from his belt, pressing down the call button. "Good to know, start it up when ready."

He leaned out of the chamber, seeing Gregory sitting between both Ness and Monty. "Monty, can you take a few steps away from Gregory? They're about to switch the communication channels back on again, and I doubt you want to smack anyone if it surprises you."

Monty looked worried for a moment, backing away from Gregory as the boy stood up. He glanced at Luis after a minute. "I don't think it's...." The gator yelped, clutching his head as static filled his hearing. Gregory glanced around. The same was happening to both the Doctor and Bonnie. Even Freddy was grimacing on the raised surface before the fours expressions relaxed.

"That was...."the Doctor started, with Bonnie interjecting. "You can say it fucking sucked if you want." The rabbit chuckled, causing Monty to stifle a laugh. "Bbbbonnie, mind your language I innnn front of greggggory." Chided the Robotic bear.

Prev Index Next

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf sb #fnaf sb au #gregory security breach #montgomery gator #monty gator #fnaf freddy #fivenightsatfreddyssecuritybreach #Doctor Leonidas #vanessa security breach

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bellygunnr · 3 years

Text

Blown Lightbulb

A commission piece for @poisonheadcrabsalesman featuring Thomas Lasky/Sarah Palmer.

---

The house is cold. It hasn’t changed at all since you’ve last been here, some twenty odd years ago. You hadn’t been a kid then-- just a pilot, home on leave despite not really wanting to be. It had been tense then. It was the same now, even if your mother wasn’t even here, and you were laying bare the contents of your past to the two people you loved the most and considered the most important in your life. You hesitate to look at them, not quite fearful of what they’re thinking but definitely reluctant, like any of this is your fault and something to be ashamed of.

You know no one can really blame you for wanting some modicum of closure, but you’ve always been conscious of starting losing battles. Your mother isn’t even here, for one. A toneless holo-message is all she’s left you, detailing that an emergency at work brought her in and she’ll be back sometime in the evening. Maybe you and your colleagues could meet her at this location, even, and upon further investigation, that location is a startling high-profile restaurant of considerable Martian renown.

So much for flying close to the surface. You’d be in the air for all to see, just for a chance to reconcile with what little remains of your family. But that wasn’t for several hours yet, so you content yourself with poking around the giant empty house and listening to Sarah and Roland banter between each other.

“No offense, but this feels kind of like a museum exhibit,” Sarah says. “It’s not even dusty. I’d prefer it if it was.”

“You’d prefer it? There are stock photos of kids up here-- unless the Lasky family is way bigger than records suggest,” Roland answers.

You look at the picture frames Roland is pointing out. Amid the pictures of your brother Cadmon, there are photos of a foreign family, conspicuously only featuring a father figure. You run your fingers through your hair, nostrils flaring with a barely-restrained sigh.

“We didn’t take many family pictures,” you say, as if that explains anything. “I’m going to check out the upstairs.”

You tug on the back of your head, pulling at the recently shaved strands in a fit of anxiety. You don’t want to go upstairs. You’re afraid of what you’ll find there. Cadmon’s room was practically a shrine twenty years ago. The stairs don’t even creak as you step up them and you’re not sure why you expect them to. They look and feel and sound like wood, but you know them to be special composites that just didn’t degrade.

Your grip lingers on the railing as you take the final step. The door you know that leads to your mother’s room is closed. The keypad lock to it is bright red. You wonder if the keycode has changed at all, but testing it probably isn’t worth the risk. Across from her room is Cadmon’s, but that door is also, as you expected, closed.

And the one you recognize as your own is ajar. You let your hand find Sarah’s, squeezing it so tightly that she squeezes back, thumb rolling over your knuckles in a decidingly tender way.

“You know you don’t have to do this, Tom,” she says gently.

“But I want to,” you say. “I know I don’t need to.”

“Well, that’s something.”

It is. You offer her a braver smile than you feel and let her follow you to your room. There are more picture frames up here, covering the walls in even intervals. You can only ignore them because you know Roland is looking at them. You nudge open the door with your foot and, again, hesitate at the threshold.

Was everything in this house going to be difficult?

You shut your eyes and take in a shuddering breath. You can feel Sarah at your back, her presence radiating warmth. If you wobble, you feel her sturdy body against yours, so you let yourself lean into the partial embrace of her arms. She squeezes your shoulders, just as ice trickles down your spine.

Roland’s presence bleeds into your mind like condensation forming on the outside of a glass. It’s not enough for his thoughts or feelings to be tangible, but it’s so distinctly him that you smile and relax, easing the tension in your balled-up fists and opening your eyes. The room ahead is dark, but all you need to do is step inside for the lights to wake up and--

It’s not exactly the same as you left it, but it’s close. Your eyes roam the room, picking out all the various effects of teenaged you. There are posters on the wall, though some of the pixels have gone dark in their paper-thin construction, and models on the shelves, thick with dust. Your bed is perfectly made, the pillows hidden beneath a dark red blanket. Inevitably, your eyes roam over to a box bolted seamlessly into the wall, just above your nightstand.

“Ah,” you breathe, staring at the box. “I see.”

“Is that…?” Sarah starts, but trails off, uncertain.

You can feel Roland’s curiosity curling up in the back of your mind. If you strain, you can even see his glittery-gold essence creeping out toward the box, but that gives you a migraine the harder you try.

You open your mouth to try and explain what it is, despite what it is being obvious. It’s a physical control panel for a domestic-grade Dumb AI. His name is still plainly depicted in the form of colorful stickers-- Admiral Hart. He hadn’t been active last time, but he hadn’t been gone either, so at least the sick hope flickering in your belly isn’t fully misplaced.

Still, is it worth trying to activate him?

“Roland,” you say, feeling quite outside yourself. “You can investigate it, if you want. Um, if he’s in there, could you…?”

“Of course, Captain,” Roland says.

Roland’s projection hovers in mid-air, thrown there by the custom commpad he was currently residing in. He smiles brilliantly at you and Sarah before bringing up what must be the digital counterpart of the control panel, his gestures as grandiose as ever, his expression just visible behind the transparent boxes. You hate it, but you distract yourself by leaning into Sarah’s space and kissing the bottom of her chin, staying there until Roland pipes up again.

“He’s in there, Captain. Says here he hasn’t been activated since… 2549. Very long service life, this one.”

Oh, that wasn’t too bad. Still, nearly ten years, completely shut down.

“...I don’t know if I’m ready to see him yet,” you say in one long rush of breath, the realization making you feel ill. “I do miss him, though.”

“There are also several other AI matrices in here,” Roland adds. “Why so many, if I may ask?”

“They were my teachers, when I was doing homeschooling. I’m surprised they’re still here.”

Dumb AI were very limited in their fixed personalities, but you swear they’re more sentient than they let on. One didn’t befriend several all at once and not experience some inexplicable variances, but dwelling on it was starting to make you feel hot behind the eyes. You shake your head, exasperated.

“Sorry, this is-- a lot more than I thought it’d be.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Sarah says lightly. “Want to go back downstairs?”

“Mind if I hang out in your house’s network for a little while?” Roland asks. “I won’t touch anything.”

“Go for it,” you say with a smile.

Roland winks and smiles before gathering up the tendrils of himself, more visible now that he was letting his essence ooze out between commpad, neural interfaces, and nearby network ports. Smart AI were remarkably fluid, or even gaseous, automatically filling in the void spaces around them, not because they wanted to be big as possible-- they were just that big. Still, you rub the back of your neck the same time as Sarah does, acutely conscious of the absence.

“Downstairs, then,” Sarah says. “Think there’s anything in the fridge?”

“I have no idea. Are you hungry?”

“I haven’t eaten since yesterday. To keep the motion sickness down, you know.”

You hum in acknowledgement. Her moving ahead of you prevents you from lingering too long upstairs, anxious as you are to keep up with her long strides. You have no idea where either of you are going to get clothes nice enough to go to a restaurant. Neither of you are dressed for it, let alone packed. Roland had suggested dressing as casually as possible to take the edge off, and well, maybe that was going to backfire.

“I can feel you thinking too hard,” Sarah says.

She’s in your space the second you leave the stairs. But it’s gentle and unintrusive despite her taking up your whole line of sight. She’s teasing you, even as her brow is bent in concern.

“What am I thinking too hard about?” you ask.

“Hmmm. Something about your mom, like that stupid message she left us. Seriously, talk about a neutral location.”

You laugh before you can stop yourself.

“Got it in one,” you say. “I don’t know what she’s thinking.”

“Guess poor mother Lasky is going to have to come home after all,” Sarah says. “Isn’t that sad?”

She bumps your hip with the back of her fist, a playful nudge that, surprisingly, doesn’t send you stumbling. You punch her shoulder in return, silently following her into the next room, where the kitchen is. You watch Sarah go for the fridge and open it, head disappearing inside to scope out the contents. She retreats a moment later to throw something green and limp into your arms.

You catch it more out of surprise than anything, but you feel nauseous just holding it.

“What the hell is this?”

“Nutritional smoothie paste!” Sarah says, like she’s struck gold. “Used to eat this shit when I was a baby Spartan. They put it in Mjolnir on long-haul ops.”

“And that’s…. Is it good?” You ask, instantly skeptical.

“Hell, no. But I’m too polite to eat the meal plan stuff she has in there. So, drink up.”

Well, you couldn’t fault her there. You set the plastic tube of paste down on the faux-granite countertop, deciding that you’d rather let Sarah just drink both of them. You can’t stifle a smile as she immediately scoops it up, tearing open both of them at once and drinking them down in a truly disgusting fashion. But she doesn’t spill a drop, so...

“I see you’ve gotten better at that,” you say.

“Roland made me promise not to make a mess if I’m going to be carrying the commpad,” she admits, looking exasperated for all of a split-second. “So.”

She tosses the spent bags onto the countertop, despite the trash can being directly underhand. You shrug that off in favor of grabbing her by the collar of her tank top and pulling her down, kissing her flat on the mouth. Her answering hum is felt in your bones and you both relax into each other, your anxious tension sapped by her solid core. She curls an arm around your waist and holds you in place, like she’s been waiting to do that.

“Relax a little,” she murmurs. “We can worry about her when she gets here.”

Not you, we. You feel a little weak in the knees at the distinction and let yourself hang onto her arms, certain that you’re looking at her with a dopey smile.

“But we probably shouldn’t do this in the kitchen,” she adds.

Before you can pull away, Sarah effortlessly hauls you into her arms, supporting you by grabbing a fistful of your ass and waiting until you wrap your arms around her neck. She squeezes your rear a couple times before moving, gait so smooth that you don’t even feel it when she turns on her heel to dump you on the couch with a flourish.

You sink into the couch cushions, but wrap your arms around hers so that you don’t disappear completely. Her face is so close to yours that you count each individual scar and freckles, including the faint lines of surgical augmentations that only show up in the right light. You snake your hand up to the back of her neck, mindful not to grab ahold of the enlarged neural implant.

“Anyone ever told you you’re handsome, Tom?” Sarah murmurs.

“Mmm, I can think of a few…”

Her laughter is felt on your skin as warm puffs. She kisses you, her lips rough with bitten and half-healed skin that you nip at, chasing them when she tries to pull away. The plasticine fabric squeaks as she carefully, carefully lowers her weight over yours and straddles you, her thighs big enough to keep you in place.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

“I will,” you promise.

You want to say that you know she won’t, but she always looks so earnest when she asks that this time, you don’t. Because she has before-- there’s a biological differential between the two of you that you never stop thinking about. You work your hand further up to pull her hair out of its ponytail, working your fingers into the coarse locks and kissing her more intently, eyes fluttering shut. I love you, you want to say. I trust you, which is just as hard.

Her hands roam across your shirt and pluck open several buttons so that she can follow the edge of your collarbone and the slope of your shoulders. Her warm, slightly sweaty palms are a sharp contrast to the cool air, and the shock of physical contact has goosebumps lifting on your arms. You lick at her lips and fist some of her hair, mumbling indistinctly as you pull her down closer.

There’s no smart quip or knowing look to make light of your neediness. She finally lets her weight drop onto your lap completely and the kiss moves on, her teeth and lips tracking across the edge of your jaw to just underneath your ear. Instead of letting your hands hover, you start to follow the hard curves of her body, groping at the bunching muscles and admiring the power coiled there.

Then she snaps into rigid attention, face turned toward the front door, her lips drawn back in a snarl. You vaguely notice that she has a chipped tooth before you hear the door opening and Sarah is still poised over you and she’s kissing you again, hard, and you kind of moan into it--

“Well, then,” an all-too-familiar voice says. “Thomas, care to… introduce me?”

Finally, Sarah climbs off of you, but not before buttoning your shirt and kissing your forehead. Your brain already hurts from the mental whiplash of the situation.

“Um, mother,” you start. “This is Sarah Palmer. My partner.”

Your mother is shorter than you remember. Her hair, once a brownish-black, is in faded tones and grey at the roots. A scar that wasn’t there twenty years ago lurks just by her eye and she looks exhausted. Stress and worry lines make canyons of her face, ones that twist your heart to look at.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Sarah says stiffly.

She does not look amused. She doesn’t look much of anything except terribly stern and suspicious of the scene before her. You almost can’t blame her. Almost.

“You know, I was hoping you’d be here when we got here,” you say. “But it seems you’re still working.”

“Of course. Duty still calls, you know.”

You watch her as she shrugs off her jacket and hangs it up on the coat rack in the anteroom. Both nothing and everything has changed about her and it makes something in your throat tighten.

“Oh, I know that more than anybody,” you breathe. “Yeah.”

“I do appreciate you coming home, Tom,” Audrey says, not looking at you. “It means a lot. I thought I’d have to see you when the Infinity opened her doors to the public. That is still happening-- right?”

“Sure, it’s happening,” Sarah says. “Look, Tom, do you want me to…?”

You shake your head.

“Yes, but I won’t be back on Mars until then. Working nonstop has its benefits-- like a lot of vacation time.”

“That sounds like a dream, to be able to use it,” Audrey replies calmly. “I need to know if we’re having dinner tonight.”

You and Sarah share a look.

“I was thinking we could share a bottle of wine and shoot the shit instead,” Sarah says. “Or some scotch, if you have it.”

At that, Audrey looks amused.

“I never took you for a scotch man, Tom,” Audrey chuckles.

You don’t say anything as she leaves the room, no doubt seeking out the desired glasses and alcohol. The sun is going down outside, plunging the room in a deep red. This was going better than expected. You want to break open the window and run. You want to do anything but sit back down and draw out the table and sit in a semi-circle and “shoot the shit.” But you’re already sitting down and the bottle is open and you haven’t ate anything-- neither has Sarah, even, but with her augmentations drinking on an empty stomach is probably beneficial and--

“Good news, everybody! I took the liberty of ordering us some, what do you humans call it? Party food? You know, for all the drinking we’re about to do. You’re welcome!”

You choke on your own spit and your mother nearly drops the glass she’s pouring. Sarah, for her part, is taking the bottle and stealing a sip directly, if only to conceal a smug smile.

Roland is hovering inches above the faux-wooden table, drawn up to his full height with chest puffed out and expression gleeful. He flicks one hand out in a casual salute toward Audrey before trotting aside and sitting down, legs crossed.

“Cheers,” he says.

“Hi, Roland,” Sarah greets.

You had completely forgotten about Roland. Oops.

“Thomas, I do hate to ask,” Audrey says, peering down at Roland with a pinched expression, “but why is there an AI?”

“Oh, you know,” you say vaguely, waving a hand. “It’s classified.”

“I’m Captain Lasky’s boss,” Roland says, grinning. “So I’m allowed to be here, you see.”

“Are you my boss, Roland?” Sarah asks.

“No, ma’am.”

Audrey’s eyebrows shoot up. She takes a sip from her glass, shifting in her seat uncomfortably.

“Well, I’m Audrey Lasky,” she says finally. “Pleasure to meet you.”

The rest of the night goes painfully.

#halo #sarah palmer #thomas lasky #roland the ai #palmsky

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