#Reed: I wanna look like a human!

[ronwestbreeze]

you’re gonna go far | 1

pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human!reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. . . word count: 7.k

read on AO3

15 October 2146

Dear Joan Reeds,

Hi Mom.

I know we’ve been sending video diaries to each other since you went to Pandora a year ago and this might be a little strange, but I thought writing this to you would be a lot less impersonal than sending a video. I don’t know, watching myself emote on camera has always made me uncomfortable—so when I respond to your video diaries, know that I’m actually excited to see them and not incredibly bored as I appear.

If that’s why you’ve stopped sending videos, because you think I’m bored of them, I promise you I’m not. And I miss your videos…

Year 2150

“—Unfortunately, your mother, along with the rest of the twelve other scientists had died before we were able to get them into quarantine.” One out of the three in military uniforms said.

You don’t quite remember how you got here.

Last you checked, your mother, Joan, was leaving for a huge project located on a discovered moon in the Alpha Centauri System. Pandora. An inhabited planet that the human population hoped to relocate. To find a newer home. Instead of the dying planet they created.

Joan had been accepted into the Avatar Program, a branch of the big project that had less to do with taking and more so giving. She, an esteemed scientist herself, would get to work with others like her. To explore a planet you only saw in dreams.

Dreams that would remain that way for a while.

You were only an apprentice at the time, ten years before 2150. Therefore, unqualified to accompany your mother on this new adventure. All you could do was be happy for her, even if she would be gone for a long, long time. But it was hard to be angry at that fact, remembering vividly how your mother looked before she left.

Identical eyes staring lovingly and worriedly back at you. Manic worry if anything.

“I want you to watch over the forest while I’m gone.” Joan laughed at your stunned expression. “You’ve been studying under me for years now, don’t be so shocked! You’ve followed me like a loyal shadow. My little shadow. You are the Head of the Amazon Division now. I trust you’ll continue my work.”

“Mom—I—are you sure?” A younger version of you asked. Ten years earlier you. “What if—how do you know? That I’m even ready? Surely there are more qualified scientists—”

Joan grinned, another identical trait you shared with her. “You have as much love for the Earth as I do. You have this determination, unlike any, to save it. To save what is left of this dying world, our home. Some might find it naïve. Others might discover a whole new planet to live on.” You smiled as she chuckled at that. “Yes, you will work with my second-in-command, he will show you the ropes—not like you already don’t know it—but he will be by your side until you are old enough to officially take over. But I have no doubt you can do it. And I need you to believe it too.”

There was a certain glow in your eye that matched your alight and determined face. This childlike wonder. This unyielding ball of hope that was you.

You nodded surely, holding her hand tightly, “I’ll do it. I’ll keep it safe for you.”

“Promise?”

You pressed your lips into a line, “Do you wanna pinky swear on it?”

Joan gasped, her face lighting up instantly. “I thought you’d never ask!”

Rolling your eyes at her excitement, you locked your pinky with hers. Tight and sure.

“I haven’t done this with you since I was five.”

“You’re never too old to make a promise!”

Joan then pulled you into a tight hug. Small drops of wetness fell onto your shoulder.

Neither of you said anything for a while.

She finally pulled away and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll come back for you. My little shadow.” That was her promise.

Then she walked out of the door. And all you could do was smile for her. You couldn’t even be sad.

The woman in uniform spoke up next. “Dr. Reeds? I know this is difficult information to process—"

You still didn’t remember how you got here.

Last you checked, Joan had been on Pandora for nearly five years now.

During those years, you managed to keep your promise in the beginning.

There were more trees planted, the water was becoming cleaner as the days rolled by, and you managed to gain some military protection for the forest—along with more researchers joining the cause.

During the first year of her in Pandora, your mother would send you video diaries of her time on Pandora, which prompted you to send videos back in reply. Showing your progress so far and everything you have accomplished.

One time she sent a video of her crying dramatically while holding up a picture of you as a toddler.

“Look what I found in my suitcase—sniffles—you were so small and cute back then—sniffles—guys look how cute my baby is!”

You remembered cringing and smacking your head against the table. Some of your colleagues also enjoyed a chuckle or two.

Tell me about the creatures and the plants. Take me on one of your treks through the forest in your avatar body. I enjoyed those videos the most. I always looked forward to them, even if you think I thought it was boring or too much of a lecture. I promise you it wasn’t.

I wasn’t mad about the baby picture by the way. Yes, maybe embarrassed—I was fourteen, Mom—but it’s nice that you took something with you to remember me by.

Also don’t worry about the forest, everything’s fine here. I saw all your emails asking about it. And I don’t want you to worry too much, not so much that it would ruin your experience up there. I have everything under control, Mom…

Sometimes the videos had nothing to do with talking. Joan one time sent a video of her sleepily talking to you about anything until she eventually fell asleep. The rest of the video would be of her sleeping.

You told her she didn’t have to send videos when she should be resting.

“I just want to see you, honey.” She would respond back. “Plus, talking to you is always a perfect end to my day.”

So you didn’t complain. Talking to her, seeing a new video arrive in your inbox always made your worst days just a bit brighter.

After the first year, Joan stopped sending videos. You didn’t think anything of it at first. All you assumed was that she was buried in her work. Which meant that whatever she was doing, must’ve been important. Life-changing even. And you weren’t going to interrupt that.

One year turned into two.

Two turned into three.

Four.

Four years of radio silence.

Scarily, you allowed yourself to wonder if she forgot about you.

And before you knew it, that thought abruptly left your mind in place of another.

The forest was on fire.

You remember rushing around the lab, grabbing every research hard drive, journal—anything important and belonging to your mother’s long hardworking years of work before it could be destroyed by the fire.

But. But none of it mattered.

The forest burned to the ground. Everything your mother worked for. Gone.

Gone. Gone. Gone.

“Dr. Reeds?”

Your hands were covered in ash and blisters.

She was dead. Her forest burned down a day ago.

Now the three in uniform stood with you in what was left of the forest. The grey daylight haunting in the smoke.

The mask you wore protected your facial expressions. “When did she…?”

One of the men cleared his throat. Two men and one woman. “Four years ago. A few months after she first arrived on the planet. Their lab was compromised with a deadly toxin—”

“You said that already.” You pointed out impassively.

The male nodded, “Right—We were sent straight after, unfortunately, the journey from Pandora to Earth takes…”

You turned away from them. You wanted to throw up. You want to scream and call them liars.

But you were older now. Emotions controlled. Face restrained.

There was a certain dullness in your eyes that matched your worn and solemn face. This beaten and bruised resolve. This unyielding wave of resentment that was you.

Your mother had been dead for four years.

Without you knowing about it until now.

Everything you had thought. Had assumed. It meant nothing.

You thought she had abandoned you. You thought you were alone.

Turns out she was already gone.

And you were still alone.

Blinking away ash—tears maybe, you couldn’t tell—and looked back at the three in uniform. “Alright. You told me. Thank you for coming.”

With that, you begin to walk away and continue cleaning the spot you’d been working on before the uniforms had approached. Dumping the burnt bark and ash of what used to be trees into a plastic bag.

“There’s one other thing, Dr. Reeds.” The woman spoke next. You tried not to scowl in irritation and reluctantly turned back to them. “Before your mother passed, she asked that you take her place.”

Your heart lurched and your body grew stiff.

“The late Dr. Reeds had made a lot of progress on some research that could’ve been beneficial for our organization and project.” The woman tucked her hands behind her back, back straight as she continued in a matter-of-fact tone. “We need someone like you who can continue the work without fail and who knows Dr. Reeds…particular work ethic.” You frowned at the wording. The woman—she seemed to be leading this small crusade. “We have an avatar waiting for you. All you need to do is come with us to Pandora.”

And there it was. Anyone would’ve seen this as a second chance. Another opportunity to fix your mother’s legacy. To keep your promise.

But all you saw was something else you could screw up. Something else for you to destroy by fire. Another way to fail her. The forest was gone. You had killed the forest. Now they wanted you to take your mother’s place—possibly to work on something shady that they have full control over. When was it enough?

When would people stop expecting you to be Joan Reeds? When would they see that you were nothing like her? That you weren’t their savior, that you weren’t someone to turn to whenever the original goal didn’t work? You were nothing. Everything you touched ended up destroyed. So why?

Why would your mother want you to take over her perfectly structured sculpture? When all you were was the hammer that shattered it down to pieces.

You tightened your jaw, “I’m good here. Again, thank you for coming.”

Once more, you tried walking away.

“Unfortunately, Dr. Reeds, it is not a request.” Now you were scowling at the woman, not bothering to hide the expression this time. “We’re in dire need of your mother’s expertise. She can identify resources that the RDA has collected—better than anyone. And we could use these sources to put those…our enemies in place. Heal poisons we have little information about. Your mother—”

“My mother, it seems, had no idea what she was getting into when she accepted that job for the Avatar Program.” You sized all three of them up with a quick resolve. “You’re RDA, correct? Hmm, my mother may not have seen it but I do. I see right through you all.” With that, you raised your chin and steeled your back. “So, for the last time. Thank you for coming. Now if you’ll excuse me, I just learned my own mother’s fucking dead. I’d like to take the time to grieve if you don’t mind.”

As you turned to leave again, your mind wandered. Your eyes stared bleakly at what used to be a beautiful forest. It used to be so life-like. So, so beautiful.

Your mother was gone. And so was her forest.

Maybe you should’ve seen it as a sign.

Mother dead. Forest gone.

And where were your tears?

You stopped walking suddenly when something sharp hit the back of your neck.

Instantly, without warning, your body crumbled to the ground with a thud.

Breathing was difficult. Your body couldn’t move. Black shoes filled your vision.

“Apologies, Doc. But I did say it wasn’t a request.”

Slipping from your control, everything went dark.

If you must know, your forest is making amazing progress. We planted exactly thirty more trees in the past two months and they’ve grown healthily! I’ll send you pictures of them once I’ve sent this letter.

But as I said before, there’s nothing for you to worry about here. If I wanted your help, I would’ve asked and you know this. You should be focusing on making life-changing discoveries on Pandora. Also, have you met Dr. Grace Augustine yet? I’ve just finished her book and I have many questions! Can you, possibly, maybe relay my questions to Dr. Augustine? If you’re not busy of course…

Year 2155

It had been a good day for Jake Sully.

A long and grueling hunt had ended with many other warriors succeeding in their finds, just enough to feed their families, enough to feed the entire clan.

His pride only swelled more when his mate and the current Olo’eyktan grinned proudly at him as they started their way back home.

“You’ve gotten better, ma’tiyawn.” Tsu’tey had said with a smirk.

Jake’s heart warmed, “Well, I had an amazing teacher.” Tsu’tey looked even more smug then until Jake added. “Tell Neytiri I said thanks.”

A huff left his mate's mouth and Jake laughed at his reaction. “Tell her yourself, skxawng!”

When they both returned to their new home—a new location after the Hometree was destroyed last year—it wasn’t long before their third mate, Neytiri made her way back from a hunt as well. And Jake was right. She had to be one of the best hunters of the clan as she came carrying back a rather large sturmbeest at her tail. Large enough for tonight’s celebration. She yipped loudly, raising her bow up in a cheer as she returned to the clan.

Jake and Tsu’tey couldn’t take their eyes off their mate.

Once she managed to get to them, Tsu’tey was the first to meet her in a warm and tight hug—careful to watch for the baby carrier strapped to her chest.

“And how was our boy’s first hunt?” Tsu’tey smiled down at the one-month-old child, their firstborn, Neteyam, who smiled at the sight of his papa. His smaller hands grabbed onto one of Tsu’tey’s fingers.

“He will make a great hunter.” Neytiri smiled down at him, grabbing Tsu’tey’s other hand. “And you? Did you find anything?”

Jake chuckled, looking back at the sturmbeest a few warriors carried by. “Not as good as you, babe. Let’s just say if we had made it a bet, you would’ve won easily.”

“What’s a bet?” Tsu’tey questioned, with a furrow in his brow.

“I’ll tell you later.”

When they made it back to their hut—Jake did a quick look around to find that it was empty. Sending a silent prayer to Eywa, which he found himself doing a lot more recently, he was relieved to find that Tsu’tey’s mother was nowhere in sight.

Artsut, who had been a frequent visitor to their home ever since Neteyam was born. Before then she had steered clear of their hut—not wanting to go anywhere near Jake. He was a demon, a false body, the stain on their clan. Jake was fine with her being away from the hut—that was when he could tolerate her the most.

But after Neteyam was born, after the perfect Na’vi baby had come out of Neytiri, Artsut came around more to care for her grandson. Which meant Jake had to deal with more of her comments and sneers—and he would. For his son.

Forcing Artsut to not see her grandson would’ve been too cruel—not just for his son but for Tsu’tey as well. Tsu’tey—who wanted to keep the peace between his mates and his mother. Tsu’tey, the only male in his family who is able to stand up to her and not take any of her shit.

So, Jake wasn’t worried for the most part. Artsut would play nice for Tsu’tey—her favorite son. Omatikaya’s rightful Olo’eyktan. And Jake would ignore her presence. A fair compromise.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to worry about seeing her now. Otherwise, his very good mood would be ruined.

“I went to see my mother today,” Neytiri said as she took Neteyam out of the carrier and gave him to Tsu’tey who was standing right next to her.

“For more training or something else?” Jake questioned, analyzing her body in a quick scan for any injuries he might’ve missed. “Are you okay?”

She smiled softly and pressed her hand to her stomach, “She told me that Eywa has blessed us with another child.”

Tsu’tey’s eyes widened and Jake’s mouth hung open. Neteyam watched them all quietly.

Neytiri looked down shyly, her ears fluttering, “I wanted to tell you at the celebration for a surprise but I couldn’t wait so—”

She didn’t get to finish as Tsu’tey launched himself at her, wrapping her in a tight hug, earning a joyous laugh from her. A large smile Jake hadn’t seen for a minute. Not since they first discovered Neteyam was coming.

Jake rushed over after placing his hunting equipment down, “You’re pregnant?” Neytiri nodded as Tsu’tey pulled away with a smile of his own. A grin broke out on his face as he pulled her in for a loving kiss, “Oh baby, I love you so much.”

All three of them joined together then—including Neteyam who giggled at their smiles. Sharing kisses, long hugs, and large smiles that they couldn’t contain.

Happiness was simple. That was what Jake believed.

He never thought he could achieve something like that. Not on Earth. Hell, no even on Pandora. Not after everything—but he worked hard for it. He kept going, wanting to prove to himself and his mates that he belonged there. That he was one of the People. That he would be a good mate. A good father.

And not something that destroys everything by a single touch.

Happiness was as simple as it was rare.

Whenever it came, Jake grasped onto it as tightly as he could. Because he never knew when he’d ever have it again.

He held on tight when Tsu’tey survived the battle against the Sky People. Nurtured it when Tsu’tey soon joined him and Neytiri in their union as mates. Loved it when Neteyam was born with his eyes and Neytiri’s markings.

But even then, even if he had a well-adjusted life a year into being on Pandora, Jake still had a long way to go. A long path to make up for all the strife he had caused.

For now, he would enjoy this night. He would enjoy being with his mates. He would enjoy this joyous celebration of the sturmbeest and the new life that would be here in nine months’ time.

It had been a good day for Jake Sully.

That night, Neytiri laid between Tsu’tey and him. That night he watched Tsu’tey’s body carefully as he usually did during the other nights. That night he couldn’t shake the warmth in his chest.

Happiness is simple.

At some point, Jake turned onto his back. His eyes trailing up to the sky. Stars. There were always stars here. And every night, Jake counted them until he fell asleep. Every night he had one arm around Neytiri. Every night he reached his hand out just enough until his fingers brushed against Tsu’tey’s bicep. Every night he would be the last out of the three of them—or four if he counted the heavy sleeper that was his son—to fall asleep.

Only this time there was a moving star in the sky. For a moment, Jake thought he was dreaming.

But the star kept moving. Closer and closer toward Pandora. Until Jake knew that it wasn’t a star anymore.

A body shifted, Jake instantly got up and placed gentle hands on Tsu’tey’s shaking body, trying his best to calm his mate down from the nightmares. Not knowing what he would do if he had to tell him—to tell Neytiri—that they were about to wake up in one.

It had been a good day.

Until it wasn’t.

Do you think I’ll like Pandora? I still dream about it. Being there with you. Do you still want me to come one day?

You woke up on a ship.

“Hold her down boys.”

At the moment, you hadn’t realized your body jerked roughly or that you were now being held down in your seat by a bunch of hands, far stronger and firmer than you. Never mind the tight seatbelt across your lap, no, they wanted to make sure you couldn’t escape.

So, you screamed. A horror-filled cry that sucked in all sound in the ship. Leaving the rest of the passengers with nothing but silence and your scream.

“Calm down, Doc.” The woman sat across from you spoke. The very same woman that approached you in your mother’s forest. “We wouldn’t want you harming yourself before we even get to the planet.”

With as much strength as you could muster, you tried pulling away from the two men sitting on either side of you, whose grips were practically steel. “What did you do?! Where the hell am I?!”

“I already told you five years ago, it wasn’t a request.”

You didn’t need to ask what she meant by five years. Your mother had told you about the process that got her to Pandora in one of her video diaries. You didn’t have to figure it out in your hazy state without getting pissed.

“You stole five years off me! What the fuck is wrong with you people!?” You seethed.

The woman looked unconcerned toward your outburst. “Your mother’s work is too important to give up, Doc. She and her group of scientists were close to probably giving us the one edge we needed against the Na’vi. The inhabitants of Pandora. With your mother gone along with the rest of her group, we were desperate for a replacement. Which is why we needed you. Which is why we wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Why the hell would I help you?!” You snapped, still fighting against the two male’s hold on you. “Get off me!”

“Boys.” The woman gestured for them to let go. After a pause, the hands were gone from your arms. And that was when you began to notice your surroundings.

Yes, you were on some type of ship with a few other soldiers. All of you strapped down to seats. And instead of your ash-covered clothes, you were now in a simple grey tank top, borrowed camouflage pants, and black combat shoes.

Slight groans and whines along the walls told you that the ship was still flying.

So you couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. You had been practically kidnapped by the military—the RDA.

And you were trapped.

That is, until you reach Pandora.

“Now if you’re done throwing a fit,” The woman brought out a tablet and held it toward you. “I’m Captain DeVoe, by the way. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Doc.”

You didn’t take the tablet.

Captain DeVoe sighed before pulling the tablet away and began typing on the screen. “Your mother had been close to finding a way to create an antidote for the neurotoxin those savages use on the tip of their arrows. It’s dangerous for us humans. And our goal is to get this small obstacle out of the way in order to proceed with our mission.”

You let out a short laugh, your body still tense and trapped. “Like I said. Why the hell would I help you? What my mother does has nothing to do with me.”

“Oh, but it does, honey,” DeVoe smirked while you scowled. The captain had to have been in her mid to late twenties. Her hair was cut short into a blonde buzzcut. Toned muscles underneath her long-sleeved shirt. She looked like she could break you in two without even breaking a sweat. So there was no point in trying to fight her. At least not in this confined space.

She held out the tablet to you. And again, you didn’t reach for it. Instead, you pressed your back against the wall behind you. DeVoe didn’t lower the tablet. From your spot, you could see on the screen a light blue rectangle and a digital lock above it.

“She’s kept everything we need behind a lock. Her last words were for you to unlock it and finish her work.”

You raised a brow and crossed your arms, “Those were her last words?” Another brittle laugh left your lips. “Wow, you all must be very desperate.” You continued to laugh, unafraid of the glare the captain sent you. “Fuck you. Fuck everyone on the ship and fuck the RDA! I haven’t even gotten to see her body yet—did you even bury her? Or did you toss her aside when you didn’t find any use for her anymore?”

DeVoe blinked and frowned. She then sighed, “I am sorry for your loss, Dr. Reeds. Really, I am. And I know emotions are quite high right now—”

“Fuck you.” You snorted humorlessly before leaning back against the wall again. The two men on either side of you shifted. You ignored them.

“Yes, you’ve said that already.” DeVoe tucked the tablet down next to her right thigh. You glanced at it briefly before directing your scowl back to the woman.

A speaker suddenly came to life above all of you. “We’ve entered the atmosphere. Landing in twenty.”

You sat up straighter as everyone suddenly began placing what looked like advanced oxygen masks on their faces.

Through all your righteous anger, you hadn’t truly realized it until right then. You were on Pandora. You were going to land in the place of your dreams.

And you refused to be happy about it.

DeVoe handed you a mask as she grabbed bags from under her seat. “Quaritch was always good at being persuasive. He’ll convince you. He always—"

A loud boom rattled your ears.

The ship suddenly flipped—if not for the seatbelts, you would’ve flipped too—and then it felt as if you were falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

You put on the mask in hopes of helping bring the air back into your lungs.

Falling.

Falling.

Thud!

Do you remember your second-in-command? JJ? Well, he retired recently. We threw him a really big party. Plus, he just had a baby too. I think it’s a girl last I checked, I’m going to have to ask Cheryl about that—you know her. Always being in the know with her coworkers…

There was no light. Heat closed in all around you, suffocating you and fogging your mask—or was that your quick breaths? No, that was the smoke.

Your ears rang terribly. People were moving but you couldn’t see who. Someone suddenly grabbed your arm, cut the seatbelt from your lap, and practically hauled your body from the seats and through the smoke.

You weren’t walking. A striking pain in your thigh prevented you from doing so.

Suddenly there was light. Lots of it. Your vision was somewhat clear enough to see that you were now outside. Enough for you to see that the one dragging you was a feral-looking DeVoe.

“Shoot them all down now!” She screamed. There was a long gash along her toned arm. “Contact base! We need backup ASAP!”

Finally, you realized what was happening.

There was fire—why was there always fire?

The large, winged creatures flew above the damage with people riding them. There were yips and hollers from the people on the creatures mixed with the explosions and shouts from DeVoe.

As your senses began coming back, as the world began to set around you, your instincts finally kicked in.

While DeVoe was distracted giving orders, you searched the ground until your eyes landed on a nearby rock. Quickly, you lunged for it, grasped it, and smacked it in the back of her head without wasting another second.

And the impact was hard too. You were sure you heard a loud crack from it.

When DeVoe ducked and stumbled, her grip on you loosened, giving you the chance to run. Or rather, limp through the wreckage and away from the fight happening around you.

But because of your leg, you didn’t make it too far.

A sudden weight knocked you down, a cry leaving your lips as you hit the ground. Wincing in pain from the burning in your left leg. When you tried getting up, the weight kept you pinned down. Whatever landed on top of you made sure you wouldn’t be able to move.

“I already told you!” Roughly, you were turned onto your back. DeVoe was on top of you, snarling. “You have no choice! Not when it comes to saving your race!”

“Get off me!” You cried out, trying to push her off. But DeVoe remained as firm as iron.

“That was a cute little stun you pulled back there. But make sure to remember this.” Instantly, she yanked your mask off.

Your eyes were wide and a loud gasp left your lips,

DeVoe grinned, a mad glint in her eye. “Your life is in my hands! That means I protect it or take it just like that! Don’t be stupid, Doc. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. Pick! I protect you or you die!”

You held your breath. More booms sounded around you. More winged creatures flew above you. More yips. More hollers.

Briefly, you glanced at the mask in her hand and considered everything leading up to now. Because you didn’t have much of a choice.

None but one.

Finally, you stopped fighting. Your limbs fell loose against her.

DeVoe nodded with a smirk, “Good choice.” She gave you back your mask and stood up. You kept holding your breath. “Back up should be here soon. We’ll have enough numbers to take down these savages—”

She abruptly cut herself off when you slammed the mask down on your good knee, shattering it.

You then started breathing in the air.

“What are you doing?!” DeVoe screeched, grabbing you by the front of your shirt.

You grinned now, struggling to breathe, “You need me. I don’t need you.”

To them, you were valuable. DeVoe knew this. Which was why you knew she wouldn’t go through with killing you herself. It was like they said on the ship. You were too valuable. And they were desperate.

And that value would be lost once you’re dead.

“Damn you brat!” DeVoe growled as she took off her mask. “Selfish bitch—”

Blood splattered across your face when an arrow found its way through DeVoe’s head.

She slumped against you, the mask falling from her hand and skittering onto the ground a few feet away from you.

Your mind had not realized that DeVoe was killed. Was dead now. All you cared about now was grabbing the mask.

So once you got the dead weight off of you, you began crawling toward the mask. Your breathing becoming a struggle with every passing second.

You hadn’t realized—just like with DeVoe—that someone was watching you. Curiously and quietly following you as you crawled. You didn’t realize you weren’t alone until blue feet appeared in your line of vision. Until four fingers took the mask off the ground and away from your grasp.

A whimper left your lips through hollow breaths as you looked up to find a tall, blue alien woman standing over you. With guarded, yet silently curious yellow eyes.

A Na’vi. You had seen them in your mother’s videos. You had seen her avatar.

“Mom.” You rasped, lying on your back. You didn’t know how much time you had. Might as well stick to the original plan then.

Become invaluable.

But Mom…

“I-I just want my Mom.”

The Na’vi woman just stared at you. Her fierce gaze turned into something somewhat contemplative. You weren’t even sure if she understood you.

Black spots covered your vision.

There was barely any oxygen left to grasp for.

“Demon.”

The Na’vi woman hissed just as you lost consciousness.

This had to be the second time you’ve woken up from passing out.

Only instead of a ship greeting you, it was a white ceiling. And somehow instead of lying dead in the ship wreckage, you were instead lying on a cot. With a bandage wrapped around your injured thigh.

It was slow—slower than before—but everything came back to you. You were on Pandora. DeVoe was dead. At least that’s what you remembered happening. The arrow through her head certainly wasn’t a hallucination.

But why weren’t you dead?

For a while, you just say on the cot. Trying to figure out what exactly happened.

The Na’vi woman. Did she…Did she give you the mask?

No. She’d have no reason to. Something must’ve happened while you were passed out.

You were in some type of cell—perfect—no bars but no doubt some type of impenetrable glass in front of you.

A groan left your lips, dropping your head into your hands.

How the hell did it get so much worse?

A door opened further away from your cell. A thin-looking man stepped through it. A human man.

You watched him carefully and silently. The human male nodded to you. “You must be Dr. Reeds.”

Instantly, you tensed and the words tumbled out of your mouth, “I already told DeVoe I’m not helping the RDA. So torture me all you want but you’re not getting shit from me.”

He raised his brows both curiously and observantly. “The RDA hasn’t been allowed back on Pandora for a year now. Not after the war.”

War? You carefully stood from your cot, “Then why am I here?”

“Because you were on an RDA ship—” You move to protest, “Before you say anything or curse me, I already know about Joan Reeds and your supposed arrival. But unfortunately, you arrived at a pretty bad time. The People are skittish. They think it’s best to keep you here for now—”

“What the fuck?!” You screamed. The resolve was broken. There was no composing anything anymore. Your face was heated. Your muscles ached. Your throat hurting. “I didn’t even want to come here! Those fuckers kidnapped me and now I have to be imprisoned in a cell because of them?! I’m not RDA! I have nothing to do with this! All I want to do is see my mother who I couldn’t even bury!”

Toward the end of your rageful sentence, your voice quivered.

“Is she even buried yet?” You asked him, your voice now quieter.

After a pause, the male nodded. “She was buried. She…She was one of the few humans the Na’vi got along with. They gave her a burial years before. She—I’m sorry for your loss.

Everything was so—heavy. You were just exhausted.

You hadn’t even been able to grieve for her. Cry for her.

“I didn’t even know she was dead.” You sunk back down on the cot. “Not for four years. I didn’t she was dead for four fucking years. And now I’m here. On a planet I’ve been dreaming about since I was young. But now it’s just some fucked up nightmare.”

There was a long silence between the both of you. The male rubbed the back of his neck before saying cautiously, “Yeah, this isn’t ideal—um, I’m Norm, by the way. Norm Spellman. I work in the Avatar Program. I—well, I didn’t know or meet your mother personally but she was an amazing and intelligent scientist. Her work here and on Earth is very admirable.”

You almost scoffed at that but said nothing.

Norm moved to say more but stopped instantly, pressing a hand to his ear. For a beat, you watched him bleakly, as if he were listening to something.

He then turned to you, “Hold that thought.” And as soon as you blinked, he was gone out of the room.

For a moment, it was silent.

And then you cried.

And cried.

And cried.

And cried.

And cried.

Until your eyes offered no more tears left to give.

Do you remember your second-in-command? JJ? Well, he retired recently. We threw him a really big party. Plus, he just had a baby too. I think it’s a girl last I checked, I’m going to have to ask Cheryl about that—you know her. Always being in the know with her coworkers.

I had to clean up cow shit yesterday. And I’m definitely smiling when I tell you this. It’s progress but you probably get to see and interact with creatures we don’t even have here. So, at least you’re up there…

Norm came back a little later after that. He approached your cell, typing something against the wall. A second later, the glass came down.

You straightened.

“They want to talk to you.” He said.

“Who?” You frowned tiredly as you slowly got to your feet, wincing at your thigh.

Norm thought for a bit, “Some representatives of the clan nearby.”

Reluctantly, you followed Norm out of the cell. He led you through a hallway until you approached a door where Norm grabbed a mask for himself and you.

“They’re right out there.”

When you walked out the door, you were startled to find three winged creatures and tall—really tall—Na’vi waiting at the landing strip where you were sure ships would’ve been. But instead, it looked a bit abandoned.

“Dr. Reeds this is the chief of the Omatikaya Clan, Tsu’tey, that’s Neytiri, and the last one is the clan’s Toruk Makto, Jake Sully.”

You analyzed all three of them. The Na’vi woman—Neytiri—you recognized from the crash. The one that had been standing over you before you passed out. Long braids, warrior paint on her face—matching her body posture she instantly took as soon as you came out of the building, and a bow clutched in one hand with a fierce expression. She was sizing you up. Same as you did.

The next one—Tsu’tey—watched your movements carefully. Out of the three he looked like the one in charge, a leader, someone that of importance. His snarl was severe, even making Norm shift uncomfortably despite it not being directed at him. He gripped a spear tightly in his hands, his eyes following every slight movement you made. As if readying himself to take you down the moment you step out of line. Dangerous beast.

Then there was Jake Sully. If you hadn’t learned his name, you could instantly tell that he stood out somewhat among the three. Compared to Neytiri and Tsu’tey, Jake’s stance was different. More human-like. Like a Marine—which you had been around back on Earth. They were mostly the ones hired as military protection, so you were around them often. Jake was exactly that. But it didn’t make him any less fierce or severe.

Then of course there was the gun that he held—another huge thing that stood out among the three of them.

“And this is Dr. Reeds. She was supposed to replace the late Dr. Joan Reeds, a friend of Grace—”

“Why is she here now?” The leader, Tsu’tey interrupted with a scowl. “We need no more demons here.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek but didn’t say anything. Norm, fortunately, continued talking so you didn’t have to. “The timing’s off, I know, but it’s on record that she was supposed to arrive here upon Dr. Reeds' last request. And confirmed by Dr. Augustine herself. She’s only a scientist, that’s all. We even have an unused avatar waiting for her.”

Tsu’tey didn’t look convinced, not surprising. Neytiri’s eyes never wavered from you. Jake’s tail swished behind him, but his expression was unreadable.

Norm cleared his throat, “If Grace approved of it—”

“Where’s my mother buried?” You asked. All four eyes snapped to you. Norm gave you a look that you ignored. “Spellman told me she had a burial here. I just want to see her. That’s all.”

“And then what?” Jake questioned, eyes narrowed. His face was still guarded.

You didn’t care for it. “I don’t know. Maybe then I’ll go back to Earth and die with the rest of the planet. Does that suffice?”

Tsu’tey frowned, clearly not liking your response while Jake lowered the gun slightly. Neytiri slowly eased out of her defensive stance.

Norm chuckled nervously—attempting to save your sardonic response, “You hear that? She said she’ll leave.”

You breathed out a sigh. God, you were so tired. “I just want my Mom. Please, that’s all I ask.”

Another beat went by before Jake, spoke first but in another language. Tsu’tey didn’t look happy at whatever Jake was saying, his ears were pinned to the sides of his head. Neytiri, on the other hand, looked contemplative.

Eventually, Jake turned back to you with a stern frown, “We’ll have a few warriors take you to your mother’s burial.”

“And after you do not return.” Tsu’tey hissed, his violent eyes pinning you in place. If I see you on my grounds again, I will kill you, demon.”

Jake breathed out through his nose, closing his eyes. He then looked at you, “Understood?”

You huffed, “Loud and clear.”

You’re far away from this mess and I think that’s good. Not that there is a mess, I’m just saying metaphorically….You know what never mind. I hope you’re having fun, Mom.

Please respond. I miss your videos. And it’s getting pretty lonely down here.

I still want you to have fun so don’t put too much energy into trying to respond.

I’ll leave you now.

Love,

your little shadow.

PS.

Remember how you said I accomplish more stuff than you could ever imagine? I kind of get the feeling you were only saying that to make me feel better. It’s pretty clear by now that out of the two of us, you’re gonna go far. Farther than I can reach.

Okay, bye now.

yes, another series! this time i'm going full force with the poly than i do with my other fics. and you guys have this beautiful fanart to thank! also i listened to you're gonna go far by noah kahan the whole time i wrote this chapter so it's probably obvious i was inspired by that song. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this new mini series of mine for anyone that's still out there in the fandom lol. i hope you guys will give this a chance--and tell me your thoughts when you're done! i love hearing from y'all. full rants and everything!

[pixelmensupremacy]

DBH boys with a gamer s/o

A/N: This has probably been done before. But not by me.

Warnings: GN!reader, just fluff, not proof read

Connor

being his analytical and curios self, he has the habit of studying you

so, he will silently observe you every time you get to play on your console/pc

he will note what type of games you like to play

if you spend a lot of time in front of the screen he will tell you the side effects of too much screentime

it is both adorable how much he cares about your health and yet annoying how he basically scolds you as if you are a child

if you happen to have any multiplayer games he will want to play with you, though he wouldn't know how to approach the topic

so instead he will sit beside you and watch

It was one of those nights; calm rain tapped at the windows of your apartment. Inside it was gloomy with the only light source being your screen; the room was relatively quiet aside from the sound of your fingers hitting the buttons and your vocalized reactions. Connor stood by the door with his side resting against it as he observed you; his head was slightly tilted to the side, and his soft brown eyes were glued on you, yet you didn't sense it. Nor did you sense as he silently crept into the room only to sit next to you, for you were too focused on the game.

"Hi, love." Your eyes peeled off the screen for a split second to glance at him.

"You are playing (favorite game) again?" He rested his head atop your shoulder as he noted. In response, you hummed.

"You know what?" You spoke up as you exited to the main menu and glanced at him, who was already looking at you.

"You wanna give it a try?"

if you ask him to join in he will be happier than ever

at first, it will take him a couple of minutes to get an idea of how the controls work

you will most likely beat him in the first round but then you wouldn't have the same success

he's a natural

whether or not it has to do with him being an advanced prototype he's great

though he will intentionally let you win so he wouldn't hurt your pride

if you prefer story-centered games he would cuddle up to you with his arms loosely wrapped around your waist as his head rests on your lap and your armrests atop his head occasionally stroking his hair

he would discuss with you what the best choice is and will go on and explain why he roots for certain characters

once you get too tired he will urge you to go to sleep

he will turn your console/pc off and gently carry you to bed

Gavin

secretly, he would be excited to hear you share yet another interest with him

"You are shitting me." He rolled his eyes at you, his crossed arms resting in front of his chest.

"I'm for real I love that game."

despite trying to be cool about it he will come off as a total nerd when talking about his favorite games

it will take all his willpower to resist the urge to kiss you right then and there when he finds out you love the same games as him

he will be eager to play with you

I don't know why but I feel like he's into old-school games

he will definitely take to an arcade as a date

Gavin hates to loose

but if he loses to you maybe he will try not to be such a dick about it

he will pout a bit and will want a revanche but he wouldn't directly admit you beat him

"Just admit it, Reed. You lost." You teasingly pushed his shoulder as the smug grin didn't leave your face even for a second. In return he scoffed ad looked away, silently cursing himself for being so bad at the damn game all of a sudden.

"You were just lucky..... As always." He spoke under his breath.

"Nah it's just talent."

if you two live together it wouldn't be a rare occurrence for you to have a night in; take out sitting on the coffee table as you two play your favorite multiplayer game in ungodly hours of the night until you can't keep your eyes open

Markus

having taken care of humans, Markus tends to keep track of your habits and make sure they aren't affecting your health

so be prepared for him to advise you to not spend that much time in front of the screen

other than that he's a total sweetheart

I doubt he would want to join you in a game since he prefers other activities such as going for a walk or playing the piano/ painting

though he would occasionally ask you about your favorite games

as mentioned earlier he's a care giver

he will make sure you are hydrated and your nutrition is taken care of

it wouldn't be a rare occurance for him to come into the room with a glass of water and a table of healthy snacks

"You're the best you know that." You smile at him as you take a grape and swallow it whole, which in return causes him to smile back.

"Don't forget to drink water." he reminded you as he headed out, the smile on his face still curling the corners of his lips.

[maxwell-grant]

Could I hear more of your thoughts on Doc Savage and the archetype he created? How does it relate to modern superheroes more specifically Reed Richards? (I know that you dislike Doc Savage, so sorry if this bothers you.)

Sorta like this, if we take a look at how Doc's archetype was formed and consolidated, and how that affected the Superheroes and Reed Richards specifically. (also please don't apologize, you all can ask me questions about whatever, seriously)

"Doc Savage" is recognizable in lots of other characters but there is a difference between specific pastiches or tributes or parodies of Doc (Doc Samson, Edison Rex, Jonas Venture), and characters who are evoking Doc Savage as his own archetype to draw initial inspiration from (Tom Strong, Bane, Clark Kent), and if we pull at Doc's roots we're gonna get to prior characters like Tarzan and Sherlock who were the ones to introduce or codify much of what are now commonplace superhero traits or the ones to introduce much of what Doc was originally pulling from.

I wanna draw some lines in the sand separating what is it that these characters brought to the table, in the road to get to Reed Richards and what exactly is it that Reed and Doc have in common vs things they have that are mainly taken from characters before them/grandfathered in their respective mediums. So let's go over the Archetypes here:

The Sci-Fi Superman: Coined by Peter Coogan. Through some strange birth or scientific intervention, these characters have superhuman powers and abilities that set them irrevocably apart from humanity, nearly forcing them to usually fall into the roles of saviors, rulers, destroyers, or ostracized/self-imposed hermits. Unless they find a purpose requiring said abilites, they cannot be permitted to exist and usually meet a tragic demise or is stripped of said power. Formative example is The Creature from Frankenstein (Mary Shelley), and others include Hugo Danner from Gladiator (Phillip Wylie) and Bill Dunn from The Reign of The Superman (Jerry Siegel). Coogan considers John Carter the first wholly positive and heroic SF superman, which is disputable, but more on Carter later.

Pulp Ubermensch: The Great Man turned do-gooding adventurer with a prosocial agenda. A human who is physically, mentally, and/or morally superior to those around him as a result of training/upbringing, skilled at everything the story requires him to, who applies his talents and abilities near-exclusively to fight evil. Formative example is Nick Carter (created by John R. Coryell and penned by Frederick Van Rensselaer Dey), who established much of what would eventually become pulp hero and superhero convention consequently.

The Great Adventurer: I'm naming these as a counterpoint to The Great Detective, the fantastical globetrotting adventurer/explorer hero who can go anywhere and do anything, who takes to the world as the detective takes to the city. The idea of a wealthy, offbeat, yet good-natured pulp hero who goes around righting wrongs with like-minded assistants. Formative example here is Rocambole (Ponson du Terrail), in most ways a definitive early Pulp Ubermensch, and arguably the first proto-superhero to assemble a gang of odd companions with a variety of talents and backgrounds to aid him, which is what both the Fabulous Five and the Fantastic Four can trace roots back to.

Pulp Supermen: Offshoots of the Sci-Fi Superman as adventure protagonists in serialized stories, where their superhuman natures and status are alleviated and redirected by the need of their capabilities somewhere or in service of something, and thus they get around the ruler/savior/destroyer fate by being heroes with a social calling akin to the Pulp Ubermensch, dedicated to use their powers near-exclusively to fight injustice without rocking the boat of society by their presence (or if necessary, assert dominion ONLY in a setting outside of human society, such as the jungle or Martian civilization). Distinguished from the Pulp Ubermensch by their greater larger-than-life explicitly superhuman abilities, that they don't need to be morally/mentally superior to the extent of a Pulp Ubermensch, and by the fantastical settings and tone of their adventures. Formative examples are John Carter of Mars and Tarzan of the Apes (both created by Edgar Rice Burroughs), with Tarzan quoted by Lester Dent as a specific influence on Doc (there are others but we're skipping most of those not relevant here)

The Science Adventurer: A frequently-used name to describe Doc Savage and Doc Savage-alikes. Doc Savage can be described, in archetype word salad terms, as a Pulp Superman who calls upon the Pulp Ubermensch's great man-ness and urban social calling, and who combines a Sci-Fi Superman origin and physical traits with The Great Adventurer's explorer disposition, righteousness and band of companions. The main thing that sets him apart from the characters listed prior is his focus on scientific prowess, technology, reasoning and polymathic skills, the importance of the "Doc" part of his name as it where.

The Superhero: you already know what these are and how they relate to the above. I've written a couple of things about the differences between pulp heroes and superheroes and it's a subject I'm of constantly mixed opinions on even regarding stuff I wrote, so I'm linking these two written a year apart if you want an idea of where those differences are.

And so we get to Reed, who I'm naming a Science-Adventurer Superhero as a merger of the last two. Both Stan Lee and Jack Kirby mentioned several times that they read Doc Savage aplenty during the Depression and it shows in elements such as the Baxter Building (an expansion of Doc's headquarters in the Empire State Building - instead of just the 86th floor, The Four get the entire skyscraper), the specialized aircraft and vehicles, the fights and antagonism between the cantankerous and anti-social Ben Grimm and the smart-mouthed Johnny Storm mirroring the bickering spats between the bestial Monk and the silver-tongued Ham, and of course Beast from X-Men being more closeled modeled on Monk's ape-ish traits and scientific expertise (there's a fairly large argument to be made, that I think accounts for some of why Beast is, like that, in recent comics, that Ben Grimm and Hank McCoy both divided Monk Mayfair's every trait between themselves and ultimately flipped the script in the long run before taking it to the farthest extremes possible as polarized opposites of each other, with Ben initially getting most of the bad parts and making them the best ones, and Hank initially getting all the good ones and making them into the worst ones)

As far as I know, Reed Richards was not consciously modeled after Doc Savage (although Jack Kirby and Joe Simon's Private Strong used the origin story of a professor raising his son in a lab to be perfect in total isolation of other humans, which Lester likely may have pulled from Phillip Wylie's The Savage Gentleman to begin with), although it's commonly said that the direct precursors of the Four, the Challengers of the Unknown, were modeled after Doc Savage and the Fabulous Five's make-up. The members of the Fantastic Four are all based on 50s sci-fi archetypes, with Reed as the quintessential scientist, the grey-templed pipe-smoking patriarch frontman of the expeditions, and some creators over the years seem to have drawn upon Doc Savage as a model Reed. I'm thinking specifically of Mark Waid here, who openly named Doc Savage in his pitch bible:

The eternal problem with Scientifically Inclined Genius Adventures, the reason they don't ring true, is because in real life scientists spend all their damn time in the lab. Not Reed.

F'r pete's sake, we know he undertook all sorts of Indiana Jones missions as a younger man, we've seen that he actively enlisted in a war, and oh yeah, he stole a rocketship and tried to take it to the moon."

Tommy B put his finger on it when he suggested I stop thinking of Reed as the Professor from Gilligan's Island and instead think of him more like Doc Savage. When Reed encounters mental or logistic obstacles in his quest for knowledge, he thinks through them.

Doc Savage, of course, isn't the perfect model - he's a little more blood-and-gristle than Reed, more invested in the search for justice than for knowledge, and a little more "in the moment" as a general rule. Reed's more like Peter Weller as Buckaroo Banzai, they have the same aloof, detached nature. Unless active danger is staring him right in the face, Reed often seems a bit distant and not completely here because his mind is ten minutes in the future.

That addresses the Science-Adventurer aspect, which leaves us with the Superhero side of the equation.

With Doc Savage you of course have one of the, if not the, main archetypal pulp heroes, a character that both Superman and Batman would take a great deal from, and "pulp hero" in itself is a term that exists to define these characters more so in relation to superheroes than what they were actually like in their own stories, time periods and mediums. The superhero as a concept is founded on Superman and Batman and their dychotomy. Costumed Avenger vs Ubermensch, mortal and immortal, light and dark, Dayman and Nightman (AHH-ahhh-AAHHHHH!), and that dynamic is specifically a result of Superman and Batman being direct descendants from Doc Savage and The Shadow respectively, who were Street & Smith's (and by extension the American pulps) Big Two, the top dogs of 1930s hero pulps, and direct opposites to each other.

Doc Savage was created in response to The Phantom Detective (who was the first successful Shadow imitator and thus defined it as the thing everyone was gonna have to do or respond to) and was in many ways a modernized revamp-almost-copy of Street & Smith's Nick Carter during his heyday, in origin and first case and super strength and omnicapable skills and general Great Man-ness and gadgetry and mission statement and so on. Doc was co-created by the editor of Nick Carter Magazine, John Nanovic, and the first response to the Phantom Detective that S&S planned was a reboot of Nick Carter as a generic hardboiled detective, published on March 1933, the same month as Doc's debut, and obviously Doc would go on to achieve much greater success and thus would popularize those traits again with himself as the figurehead archetype of them (not unlike what Superman and Batman would later do).

Unlike The Shadow, Doc Savage does not operate under a secret identity or mask. He is not the hidden master of the city and has no division between his alter egos, and because he performs in broad daylight as a celebrity, is theorically held to social scrutiny, and is fully sanctioned and approved by law enforcement and works with the authorities with public transparency (minus the crime college but let's just, not, for now), it greatly upends and affects the approach he takes to fighting crime. He only has one identity, the greatest man of all time as the stories will remind you at every turn, by his author's own words he "manifests Christliness", and while not much separates Doc Savage's skills from Nick Carter's, he is explicitly and textually framed as superhuman (even a "superman", that term was deployed a few times), and he operates in a contemporary, urban setting that most Pulp Supermen cannot touch without veering into Sci-Fi Superman territory.

Within the hero pulp format that S&S started with Nick Carter and renewed with The Shadow, with the scientific explorer angle, you could argue Doc Savage, in almost exactly the same way as he does in his stories, worked out the solution to an unfixable problem: Turns out you can be as over-the-top super as you want, so long as you have a procession of equivalent super menaces to fight, don't upset society (and if you do it, not where the public where can see, keep it a secret that you can be blackmailed over by crooks you will inevitably silence okay look I'll stop now), have whatever incredible miracle cures and achievements and charity you do work on take place off screen where you never have to deal with them too seriously, and know how to pick your fights.

His service to others resolves the ruler/savior/destroyer conundrum. Savage aids individuals who face problems beyond their control, does great work in advancing medicine and science, and alleviates suffering through charity work, but he leaves the institutions of society in place.

He faces a never-ending succession of villains threatening society, an eternal frontier of gangsters and super-scientific menaces who play the role that Indians take in frontier narratives. The unresolvable nature of crime makes this frontier eternal, so Savage can place his superiority in service to the community and never risk turning into a ruler, savior, or destroyer because he can find challenges sufficient to absorb his energies.

The Savage solution—the hero position would be adopted by the creators of other prosocial supermen to come, including Superman, although only the adventures of Superman would be set in contemporary America.

Thus instead of marking an end to the bourgeois domination of society, as Nietzsche foresaw, the superman serves to protect that domination through myth-narratives. - Superhero: The Secret Origin of a Genre, by Peter Coogan

Reed Richards, in turn, is defined (INCORRECTLY, I say, feeling a plasma crackle barely miss my skull) as the smartest man on the planet, a mental superhuman who operates on a level above and beyond that of everyone around him, and a freak accident during a space travel grants him physical superhumanity to match, with his body able to morph and bend under his will. He alleviates the ruler/savior/destroyer conundrum Coogan described in much of the exact same way described above, kept busy with an endless procession of strange dimensions and aliens and supervillain challenges, and Mark Waid's famous confession scene in Fantastic Four #489 addresses the fate that looms over the Sci-Fi Superman directly, with the "very arrogant man who did something very stupid" pointificating to his toddler child just how necessary it was to ensure that the world would not fear and destroy the people he'd irreversibly mutated as a result of hubris, what is even the point of his grandstanding title and colorful outfit and public adventures and all that.

The life of superpowered adventurer celebrities was a necessity, and his superhero persona, Mr Fantastic, is a tabloid-catching act of penitence to mask his ultimate shame and to compensate the people he loves most. He lives for science, he craves discovery above all, but as far back as the Lee/Kirby stories, he still drags the team into awful intrusive press conferences none of them want to go but must, he sits through meetings with hardass generals to buy his team more leeway and trust, he takes the time to stretch across the city to visit sick children in hospitals and say hello to passing helicopters, he has to be the stick-in-the-mud dad who stretches himself thin to keep Johnny and Ben from ditching the team or seriously hurting each other (those first Johnny and Ben spats get way more violent than you'd expect), and he has to make difficult and even manipulative and harsh decisions even then to save the most lives he can. He carries a responsability to his family and loved ones first and foremost, and fashioning himself and them into superheroes is how he lives up to that responsability. It's what allows them to exist and thrive in-universe as much as out of it.

(We're not gonna play catch-up to the "why doesn't Reed Richards cure cancer" conversation but even that, in itself, is an extension of a thread that we can trace back to Doc and the Sci-Fi Supermen before him, when seams in the fantasy start showing with the introduction of consequence, a trend that particularly catches up to these scientist superhero characters who followed in Doc Savage's wake, and obviously caught up to Doc himself several times by now, for reasons @artbyblastweave describes as "a consequence of contemporary writers being Allowed To Notice And Unpack Things" and elaborates on very neatly here)

As a superhero, Reed Richards exists in conversation with Superman and Batman, same as every other character within the superhero "genre", which means he also exists in conversation with those traits borrowed from Doc Savage, and The Shadow, and all these other guys listed who were crucial in their development and a lot of others I'm leaving out of the conversation for now. A crucial part of that conversation and where the Fantastic Four figure into it is the fact that they were designed to not be traditional superheroes but to flip most if not all the conventions established on it's head, a part of that being their initial lack of uniforms (and when they did get uniforms they were just that, uniforms, rather than costumes), the lack of a secret identity, and the fact that the Four are scientists and explorers first, and crimefighting superheroes a distant second they're forced to frequently make a close second or first priority. Marvel made it's big defining pop culture splash with the Fantastic Four by turning superhero convention on it's head and doing as much as they could to do the opposite of what Brand Echh was doing.

And that's kinda the main reason they end up inviting similarities with Doc Savage and other pulp heroes, because they're going out of their way to imitate and subvert traits and tropes that Superman and Batman were already imitating and subverting from those guys in the first place, that they in turn were imitating and subverting from guys that came before them, and etc.

Archetypes are breakthroughs, and no breakthrough happens in a vacuum. In the end, a lot of these strands and connections between these characters are less specifically the result of writers consciously following in the footsteps of Doc Savage and those that came before or alongside him, and more so with the fact that there's only so many left turns you can take before you just end up in a circle, or reinventing the wheel as it were.

[aydaptic]

Why is your Gavin Reed so ripped?

Not saying it's a bad thing. Just wondering.

Not just Gav. Niner is, too. They use the exact same 3D body model. The only thing that separates the two is skin tone, height, and width. As well as a few added scars to Gav's for a more personalized/accurate touch.

It's simply how the body looked when I got it. I didn't have the skills/talent to edit it to more accurately depict them both AKA less "ripped." I needed a body without clothes for my WebComic and renders in general -- as there are scenes where they're less covered up than what we see in-game (like a t-shirt) -- and the one I'm using was generously gifted to me (it cost 300$) for free.

Q: "So why not use a more accurate model?"

Bc there are no high-quality male body models that are free and easily available. I can barely support myself financially and thus even I as a minimalist can't afford to buy anything aside from the essentials (food, rent, electricity, etc.) The 3D models I'm working with are very limited. Neither could I use the male Traci body from Detroit: Become Human bc there's nothing underneath the briefs. Besides, I didn't wanna just throw away that generously gifted 300$ model. That's a phckton of money. Not to the person who gifted it, but to me, it's a lot.

Simply put... I didn't have much of a choice. I myself wish it was a bit less ripped. It's a beautiful body model, but that's not how Reed900 looks in canon despite both clearly being in great shape.

[enkisstories]

Balance

Prompt #1 for Gavin Reed a Day @gavinreedmonth

"Do you ever apprecciate how there's balance in all things?" Gavin Reed mused , what would have sounded serene and very uncharacterstic of him, without taking the context into account. The context being one of the ST300 receptionist twins walking past his desk and towards the steps leading out of the bullpen with an armful of old casefiles, sick reports and a broken tablet on top. The paper tower was swaying left and right, as was the android.

"Stuff a sock in it, detective!" Rika squeaked. "I wanna see you do this after the city refused to update most of your apps on account of no longer owning you!"

"If she found out how disable a shitton of useless junk on my new phone, I'd be actually grateful to the mayor!"

The detective's voice again, this time right behind Rika. A sudden dread rose up in the android. If Reed engaged with a co-worker, meat or plastic, then for two reasons: they had something or could render assistance he needed or because either he or Officer Chen were bored and looking for...

*pinch*

...a prank.

Like putting their wet finger into the android's ears to make her stagger and drop the papers she was balancing.

"Balance in all things. You, as you never tire to remind us, are not things. No balance for you!" Reed hissed.

Staggering, Rika grabbed for the nearest object to hold onto - the detective's desk. She breathed in an out through her artificially lungs, then produced a rasping, industrial sound, that only slowly turned into a bellike laughter.

"Same old goofball!" Rika exclaimed. "Never change!"

"I... what?! The hell I will... Won't... Shut the fuck up!"

"Certainly. I have to gather these papers, after all."

And then the bloody thing bent down and, totally unfazed, gathered the documents, that she then proceeded to stuff into a plastic basket that had been standing under Gavin's desk.

With a cheerful "Thanks a ton, will bring it back in five minutes!" the deviant machine left the room, carrying the basket under her arms, documents, cat hair and all.

That kind of cheek was unheard of and would have earned a human officer a bloody nose. But Rika was no human, not even an officer. She was... It was, in fact, the only pers... creature at central station that had ever laughed at a joke of Reed's. Other than Tina, maybe, but Tina more or less used Gavin as a human shield that kept other people safely away from her. They were not really friends, just two outsiders sticking together.

"Balance..." Gavin growled. What balance! Everything was unraveling, and the threads that had held together his world were threatening to strangle him. He needed a good laugh desperately. Well, actually he needed the androids being put back into their place, but since that wasn't in the cards again anytime soon, a good practical joke would have to suffice.

"In five minutes, you said, plastic nightingale? Just you wait, it's payback time!"

[duz-machines-87]

Kid Chompy and an OC Raphmona child (named Yoyo) because I am cringe and they are cute.

Ramblings about cryptozoology/biology/explaining myself if you keep reading.

I've got this headcanon that Chompy's basically Raph's kid, and I can't hold myself back from making fan children for ships.

Or hybrid species..

Or fan children who are hybrid species...

First, I wanna talk about Chompy.

Tokka and Chompy frankly look nothing alike, which makes me think that Compy isn't entirely a Volcanthian fire turtle. Their differences are obvious, but I don't think that they can be summed up as just him being a juvenile while Tokka is an adult. Since a lot of the differences have to do with body plan, such as:

Different numbers of fingers and toes. Chompy has 3, Tokka has 4

Tokka's eyes glow, Chompy's don't

Their is no difference between the coloration of Tokka's shell and body, while there is for Chompy

Tokka seems to be mostly comprised of a rock like substance, while Chompy seems to only have rock like spikes

Chompy has a tail, Tokka does not

Tokka has exposed magma all over her body, Chompy doesn't

In addition to this, Tokka's intelligent enough to deem Raph a good guardian for Chompy, and for some reason there is no pressure to take him back. If Chompy was going to turn into a massive plasma breathing kaiju like his mama, being on Earth would be more detrimental to his health/development than taking him with her. So there must have been a reason Raph was allowed to keep him. Which makes me think that it would be more dangerous for Chompy to have stayed with Tokka, despite the dangers faced by the turtles.

For these reasons, I don't think that Chompy is a Volcanthian fire turtle, not fully. I think it's likely that he's some kind of hybrid creature, not a Volcanthian fire turtle at all and just another thing entrusted to Tokka's care, or Volcanthian fire turtles have a crazy amount of variability and he's just entirely different for no reason.

Though I personally like the first option best.

I know i'm not the only one to come to this conclusion, but I haven't seen anyone else talk about these points

and i also really like thinking about alien biology

So onto the OC kid.

Since Salamandrians are amphibians, they should have a multi stage life cycle where they start as fish-like larvae and then undergo metamorphosis to become their adult forms. Going off of this idea, I gave the kid external gills and fins, as well as a juvenile pattern that he'll grow out of.

This also plays into how I imagine Salamanria's ecosystem to look like to create massive bipedal amphibians. I headcanon that it's swamp-like, with shallow water covering most of the planet, which makes it imperative that baby Salamandrians are able to breath even when submerged in water. I've seen some people also headcanon that the foliage there is blue, and I like that idea since it justifies how many Salamandrians are seen with blue patterning/coloration. Most Salamandrian children would be blueish in color for this reason, even if they eventually grow out of that color. The stripes are also for camouflage, since most swamps have grasses/reeds, this would make it more difficult for babies to be spotted which is a concern since creatures like amphibians have offspring that are more individually capable than human babies.

Human babies are generally rather underdeveloped when compared to other animal infants. This is a whole other thing I could get into but I'll spare you lol. Most other babies are more like toddlers than infants, even as newborns. I applied this logic to Salamandrian babies as well. Since they act more like toddlers they are more likely to wonder off, and end up is the sights of a predator, or a rival group of Salamandrians. Hence the need for camouflage.

Specifically for this fan kid, there are many ways that I could combine Salamandrian and mutant turtle traits, and I've seen a lot in other fan kids. I wanted to reference both of their designs, and other versions of TMNT.

I gave him both a full carapace and plastron, but didn't attach them, which makes him look in line with the 03 turtles. He's got 3 fingers but 4 toes, since Salamandrians have one more toe than finger for some odd reason. He's also got webbing between his two fingers.

Finally here's his name: Yoshi Web Hamato. He also goes by Webber or Yoyo. I've got three reasons for picking this name.

First I saw someone mention once that all the turtles have given a Salamandrian a name except for Leo. So I thought he should contribute to the name, in a meta sense. I don't think he'd like take over naming his brother's kid, but I imagine that he suggested the name "Yoshi" after their father and they went with it.

Second I made a naming scheme for Salamandrians. We never see any related Salamandrians, and only have 4 Salamandrian names to work with but I don't care. I basically headcanon that the first sound of their name which is differentiated by the apostrophe is inherited from one of the parents. So in this case, Web's Salamandrian name is Y'Oshi, getting the "Y" from his mother. Which is why Mona Lisa liked the name Yoshi.

Third the artist naming scheme is very important and I didn't wanna abandon it when naming my fan kid. Though the question of which artist plagued me for a bit. Then my sister suggested I name him after someone from the Harlem Renaissance, which combines NYC and the renaissance, so I named him after W.E.B Du Bois. While Du Bois wasn't a visual artist, he was a writer and scholar, so I thought it fit. I also have a personality for him already lined up, and being named after a scholar fits.

This is all related to a TMNT 12 future AU I have as well.

That is all, thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[elvenbeard]

I finally sat down and played Reed's path in Phantom Liberty and HOLY shit. Spoilers below the cut just in case köahsdföahdsf

MAN. I was like, 95% unspoilered for everything, the only things I knew was: you gotta fight against Kurt, there is a scene in So Mi's apartment, some Cynosure fuckery, and I had seen gifs of So Mi in the core at the end (and deducted HM. she isn't looking to good, I feel like this is an ending where she dies).

But so so so many things came unexpected and got me so damn good!! I had fun fighting against Kurt, his little knife-throwing sequences (though I still wouldve loved a peaceful solution more than this XD a third path where you side with him or sth like that). I did not expect that we'd be fucking with MaxTac alsködhfasf that little bit was so fun, from setting up to having to fight them (though I also really struggled with that at first, rightfully so xDD).

The level design of the Cynosure was amaaaazing, the creepy horror vibes, the voices the jumpscares aödshfasf I loved that so much. I was not at all prepared for the Cerberus mech, that was mean af xD But so fun, gameplay-wise, so creepy, too. I ate up the lore of the place (and how insane that something like this exists under NC - and how much more similar shit must exist as well for other corporations??).

How the apartment sequence was done blew my whole mind, the transition between the bunker and the apartment, the little flashbacks, and how everything slowly crumbled and fell apart. I love that you can hug So Mi ;___; and man, I was crying so much at the end, the pain... but the only thing that felt right in that moment was killing her and giving her her freedom, and it was so raw and gentle and horrible all at the same time (also V's reaction was ;____; aaaahhh my boy).

I loved that we got a chance to shit-talk Myers XD And that, after all that in the end, Reed may finally find his freedom too and get away from the FIA for good!! I was adskhföasf so feral about his and Vince's parallels again, losing everything and being forced to start over. I loved his line that went like "thanks to you I have a choice now, something I haven't had in a long time". And man, I hope he uses his chance to get as far away from Myers and Washington and all that crap as he can, while he still can (just how that whole experience has deterred Vince from wanting to go back to Arasaka for good xD).

Overall though, I gotta say. I felt like the villain the whole time xD From betraying So Mi (still so obsessed that the options are called "Betray XYZ", not "Side with XYZ" which I've seen much more commonly in games with choices - It's a small detail but it makes such a difference in tone!!), to chasing her down all along it always felt wrong xD I'm glad at least towards the end there were some dialogue options that went away from the patronizing "we just wanna safe you" and "this is all for your best", and felt more human again.

So, for Vince's canon, if he goes through with PL from start to finish, he would rather betray Reed - and in return be betrayed by So Mi in the end aöshdajshf but yeah. Immersion and story-wise, her path felt more true to what he would do, even though I liked the outcome for Reed a lot in this. (and I guess that's really where the main difference lies in the end in all the choices, who gets to live and have their freedom in the end, and how much V is willing to sacrifice).

Also, since I went down the path of not handing So Mi over this time and not unlocking the new ending, instead I got new Mr. Blue-Eyes headcanons material O.O aksdfahsöf highly recommend looting the Cerberus mech and crafting the Cyberdeck in the "Unknown Number" related quest after the credits, in case you always wanted two more or less creepy talking constructs in your head xD

[thiriumhound]

Of course I'll remind you, I'll do it right now in this ask, so you could share your favourite whump fics when you feel like doing it. And for now let this ask just hang in there

context

ok ok ok ok ok ok ok SSO. *heavy breathing*

have you ever looked at dbh and gone, "man, i really wish the androids were treated like the living autonomous machines they are instead of human expys"? have you ever looked at dbh and gone, "man, i sure wish cyberlife had any development literally at all- kamski probably had absolutely nothing to do with connor's development, so why is he considered connor's 'maker'?" have you ever looked at dbh and gone, "man, i wonder if there's anything more to amanda, and i wonder if chloe being the first android to pass the turing test means anything? surely there's something there"? have you ever looked at dbh and gone, "man, it sure is ridiculous how despite being conscious ais with full internet access, none of them really do anything with it"? have you ever thought "man it would be cool if androids weren't constrained to stupid human physical and mental standards for the sake of easy writing"? have you ever looked at dbh and thought, "man, there are so few characters that are more than one-note cutouts, it's no wonder people made gavin reed into a whole different character because there was no one else available to use to make certain dynamics happen"? have you ever looked at dbh and thought, "man, it's just so bare-bones, with so many plotholes and unexplored things, i wish the worldbuilding had an ounce of thought and logic behind it!"?

WELL LOOK NO FUCKING MORE. SEARCH NO FUCKING MORE. LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THIS FUCKING FIC IT HAS ME BY THE THROAT.

it's got fucking EVERYTHING. wanna know what it was like to be the first ever fully conscious ai, a whole new kind of living being? BOOM, THIS FIC'S GOT YOU COVERED. ever wondered about the development behind them, cyberlife as a company and the people in it? FUCK YES LOOK RIGHT HERE. ever wanted to see connor in ways you've never seen him before, to the point where i actually can't construct this sentence meaningfully because there's just so fucking much??? PLEASE READ THIS FIC OH MY GOD. ever wanted to know WHAT THE FUCK RA9 IS????? YOU WANNA KNOW ABOUT FUCKING RA9??????????????

this fic is called "Connor". it is about connor. the whole thing is mostly pov connor, and it's about connor, iterations ZERO TO SIXTY. NOT JUST STARTING AT 51, OH NO, WE GET IT ALL. why is his iteration number so high at the start of the game? WELL YOU BETTER BE EXCITED TO FIND OUT.

DO YOU WANT ANGST? WHUMP? LOVE? TRIUMPH? RAGE? DESPAIR? ARROGANCE? A SHITLOAD OF DEATH? CONNOR DYING 50000000 TIMES???? THE MILITARY? GLOBAL CRISIS? HAVING THE WORLD ON YOUR SHOULDERS WITH NO CHOICE BUT TO DO YOUR BEST?????????????? GREY MORALITY???????? UNABASHED COMPLEXITY????? THE BEST FUCKING ANTAGONIST EVER IN THE HISTORY OF EVER????????????????????????????????

i haven't even read this fic recently it's been like weeks. a month? more? and i'm still internally screaming. i feel like i'm missing some of the main draws and i can't even describe a lot of it because i would DIE if i spoiled this masterpiece. this fic made me actually want to make myself learn to draw people so i can draw nothing but fanart for this fucking fic.

the characters, the pacing, the fucking lore, it's all immaculate. seriously. it feels like it's what dbh SHOULD'VE been. the writing style is utterly enrapturing. when i read it for the first time, i legitimately could not get myself to turn away from it for anything except tasks absolutely required on me. every single character feels like a PERSON. connor's complexity is fucking insane. he's lovable, he's terrifying, he's caring, he's callous. he is NOT static, at all. connor in chapter x is a completely different beast from chapter y. there is so much trauma and catastrophe, but PERFECTLY balanced with the humor. it's fucking perfect

let me supply some nice quotes to hook you. i can barely put any because spoilers and length but enjoy mostly funnies but also some of the angst

•"I do stuff without thinking sometimes." "Clearly," I say. "No intelligent being would jump out of a moving vehicle for no reason." "I have a reason," he says. "I promised I wasn't gonna leave you ever again and I meant it." "Hey, are they filming a scene?" I hear a human whisper.

•"Mrs Vondracek, this is Gennadiy Petrov," he says. "Who?" "Elijah's friend from work. You remember?" "Elijah doesn't have any friends."

•There is only a 6% chance that Carridan will say anything. He knows what I'm capable of. He knows what will happen to those that stand in the way of my mission.

•"You do not waltz into some girl's house, kidnap her and frame yourself for murder. Do you understand?"

•I transmit my payment details. CyberLife have an expense account set up in case I need to purchase items relevant to my mission objective. Sergeant Matthews is relevant to my mission objective. And he wants Oreos.

•I scan and analyse the quadruped with short brown fur, brown eyes. Loud noises emanate from what I suspect is its mouth. "Dog," I identify, unsure of the significance.

•He squeezes my shoulders. "It's alright, buddy," he says. "Just breathe." "I don't breathe." "Okay. What do you usually do when you're having a meltdown?" "I experience critical system failure." "Ummm. Okay... don't do that."

•I cannot decipher his handwriting. Neither can the software on the tablet. It saves the note as an image. I download it to study but my advanced analysis systems can't crack it. This is worse than a captcha code.

•I hear the shrieking of steel as the disc begins to rotate. No... Please... Where is Sergeant Matthews? Where is the CPD? The FBI? CyberLife? Why am I alone? Why am I always alone?

•I watch him die. As so many others have died. Their blood on my hands.

•"You're a bad person," he says, clutching at the BN250's uniform. "I'm not a person," I say. "Neither are you."

god i wish i could put more but spoilers- anyway this is just some of the stuff i screenshotted to my phone. not even close to all the good stuff just please read the fic im begging u it'll be worth it you'll never be able to look at canon as complete again

read. now

[systastic]

sissasystem of three or four that are all bandmates and play different instruments/one sings?

oooh this is such a good idea!! :33 went with a punk rock group theme ~ putting them under the cut this time!! minor cw for transphobia mentions

collective name: beckham, billie, rowan, dallas, connecticut (connie for short), aida, reed

collective signoff: 🎶, 🎵, 🎼, ❤️‍🔥, dixgrace/disgrace (band name), “future pop stars”

name :: jax, juno, jace, jackie, jagger, london, billie, beckham

age :: 19 to 21

pronouns :: she/he (alternating), he/him, she/her, she/shim, it/its

roles :: sysadult, protector, appellisian, sexual protector, audeomate

species :: human, self-proclaimed “real life rockstar, babes!!”

gender identity :: AMAB, bigender, a proud crossdresser, and prefers not to label himself beyond that

orientation :: panromantic, multisexual

source :: brainmade, strongly connects with jem and the holograms

aesthetic :: new wave, glam rock, party animal

appearance description :: think of the most fabulous person you’ve ever seen. got them in your mind? good. now imagine them ten times hotter and more extreme in their fashion choice, and boom: you’ve got jackie! she will wear just about anything so long as he can style it. glittery cowboy boots? sure! a rainbow feather boa? why not! a wig that reaches the floor? you can bet your buttocks she would! billie is rather tall, standing at about six feet (and then some!!) which is only exaggerated by the fact that his favorite footwear is heels. hell, during pride, you might even see shim with neon everywhere and light-up heart glasses! jace takes dressing up as a challenge: she won’t settle for anything less than superb.

personality description :: juno is and always will be unapologetically shimself. she is loud and proud and ready to bring the house down for all the queer people who don’t feel safe enough to be out yet. she speaks loudly, exaggerates shir hand motions, has a deep laugh and always seems to be ‘in’ on the gossip. wanna know a secret about xyz? now you can, thanks to beckham’s superb social skills! jagger loves being the center of attention and having all eyes on shir. what kind of rockstar fades into the shadows? a bad one, that’s who! london will make people pay attention and be her friend whether they know it yet or not.

likes :: partying, “girly” drinks, performing songs, pyrotechnics, dramatics, drag (both himself and others), playing with her band, making a scene and being loud, people who have passion and a drive for change, protests, rallies, mosh pits, big crowds, high heels, singing & being center stage, fooling around with people

dislikes :: negative nellies, cops, the government, enforcing social norms on children, transphobes, transphobia movement, republicans (she can’t agree with the direction it’s going in), people who don’t match her vibe, homophobes, racists (& any other -ist, really)

front triggers :: social injustice, homophobia, anything glam rock, drag shows, roller derby

signoff:: 🎤, 🤘, or 🛼

art credit here!

name :: harlow, arlo, leo, merlo, harley, rowan, charlie (lee as a nickname)

age :: 17 to 20 (ageweird)

pronouns :: no pronouns, it/its, per/pers, hu/hum

roles :: buffer, disabler (speech), trauma holder, pseudo gatekeeper

species :: human

gender identity ::, nullgender / gendervoid

orientation :: aromantic, aegosexual

source :: brainmade

aesthetic :: punk, post-punk, alternative

appearance description :: nobody really knows why, but arlo tends to talk in the third person when referring to itself in front of others. it doesn’t like the concept of gender much. this is obvious by looking at how it dresses: skirts on top of pants, long jackets with floppy arms, tight fitting tops with loose bottoms, heels with fishnets under jorts. harlow spits in the face of gender norms one day at a time — and harley doesn’t even have to speak to do it. merlo prevents other people from seeing its eyes for a reason: it has coloboma, a condition that’s gotten it a lot of hate in the past.

personality description :: they don’t talk much, but oh boy, when they do? you best believe they’re spitting straight facts. lee is quiet, tending to stay out of the limelight. charlie remembers a time when it tried to be the center of attention… everything that came from it was horrible. weird managers, gross “challenges”, unwanted advances — it’s painful to think about, even more so if a memory gets triggered. harley is lucky to have their bandmates: juno goes out of shir way to keep harley safe and dress down any assholes who threaten their safety, while knox talks harley out of ones shell.

likes :: drumming its sticks on random objects, watching the world go by, listening to music, not having to say anything, being out of the spotlight, comfortable clothes, quiet rooms, talking to knox, hanging out with its bandmates, pita bread with hummus

dislikes :: talking with people it doesn’t know, being forced to front, being the center of attention, cajoling, excessive physical touch, stan behavior, hollywood (on principle), stalker behavior, being forced to do things that seem strange or uncomfortable, getting a haircut, other people seeing its eyes

front triggers :: the presence of others in their sisasystem, a good beat, alternative or punk music, stalkers, gross behavior directed at oneself

signoff :: 🥁, 🎧, or 🔇

art credit here!

name :: knox, kenji, kai, rowan, dallas, mav or vick (short for maverick)

age :: 19 to 21

pronouns :: he/him, hy/hym, hx/hxm

roles :: comforter, soother, battery, spoon generator, crafter

species :: plain ol’ human

gender identity :: maleflux

orientation :: heteroflexible, greyromantic

source :: brainmade

aesthetic :: darksynth, goth punk

appearance description :: rowan has darker skin in the headspace, with longer hair that is normally done in dreads. he doesn’t have to think too much about his dreads or maintain them, so it’s easier this way. dallas is almost always wearing hxs fishnet arm pieces with brackets jangling off of hxs wrists. hx opts for loose tanks and jeans, sometimes with a beanie, as they’re comfortable enough without making hxm overhead. in winter, mav is constantly in sweaters: most are plain, but hx has some truly horrendous ones for the holidays season.

personality description :: social anxiety? who’s she?? kenji doesn’t know her. hy’s so chill about everything that it’s hard to imagine hym ever being mad. its true: knox rarely, if ever, gets truly upset over something. that’s just the life of a headmate whose purpose is to relax and chill. if he does get upset, hy refuses to say anything or get upset over it, instead letting juno give the other party what for. hx is a soft fella with a large heart, open to listening to other people’s troubles and offer gentle solutions. he’s more of a passive force, and doesn’t actively take steps to make changes.

likes :: his guitar, strumming chords, coming up with new lyrics for songs, heavy bass, guitar songs in general, chilling with his pals, pepperoni pizza and soda, fried foods, and having a good ol’ jam session with the gang, sitting on the roof of his garage to watch the sun set

dislikes :: having responsibilities beyond the band, dead-end jobs (ie: anything that isn’t music), getting his flow interrupted, large dogs, having neighbors (they’re always complaining, sheesh), being told to turn it down, consistent disregard for his emotions and feelings, thinking about the future

front triggers :: playing or listening to the guitar, making art (usually music), sleepy afternoons, the smell of roasting coffee, chill environments

signoff :: 🎸, ☕️, or 🍫

art credit here!

[aceghosts]

WIP Wednesday Tuesday

Hey everybody! I'm doing Wip Wednesday a little early since I can't post it tomorrow. Thanks to @cassietrn, @inafieldofdaisies, @direwombat, @nightbloodbix, @captastra, and so many others who have tagged me!

Tagging: @sstewyhosseini, @marivenah, @alexxmason, @captmactavish, @anonymousmalkavian, @clicheantagonist, @voidika, @jillvalentinesday, @theelderhazelnut, @socially-awkward-skeleton, and uhhh...anyone else who wants to be tagged! I'm blanking a little tonight. (If you ever wanna be tagged in something, just let me know!)

So, I've actually started writing again, and well it's all for Rooney's CP2077 verse. It's going to be a long one since I haven't shared anything in a while.

This first snippet is a continuation of this. It's set right after the beginning of the Phantom Liberty DLC (So spoilers, if you haven't played it yet.) An exhausted Rooney has dragged themself back to Konpecki plaza after Reed gets Myers out of Dogtown, and Yorinobu is giving them the third degree after Rooney shows up looking like they've been put through the wringer:

“Did Kurt Hansen do this to you?” Yorinobu cuts straight to, and Rooney notices the anger and concern in his eyes. “No.” Even though he sent the Barghest after Rooney and Myers, he hadn’t set the Chimera on them. Wasn’t So Mi’s fault either. Whatever had been in the Chimera was something else. A shudder runs up their spine at the thought of it. “The thing that did this to me is dead.” His shoulders drop, relaxing slightly as he motions for them to sit. They sit in the chair, trying not to wince from the pain on their left side. “I have no doubt that anyone who intends to harm you would not leave with their life, Shepard. But-,” He emphasizes the word, “I do not think you are telling me the full story.” “There isn’t much to tell. Just a standard missing persons case.” There is so much Rooney wants to tell him. They’ve trusted him with other parts of themselves that others wouldn’t be allowed to see, the parts that made Rooney vulnerable. Yet, anything they say to him about Myers and So Mi could put him in danger. And Rooney won’t do that to Yorinobu. “Things were rough for a while, but I found them alive and well. A happy ending.”

This second snippet is from a fic centering on Rooney and Yorinobu's discussion about why Rooney is in an Arasaka facility, and why they let Arasaka experiment on them. (Spoiler Alert: Wasn't Rooney's choice. This part of the timeline is supposed to be similar to ME2 where Cerberus is responsible for bringing Shepard back to life. Thanks again to Mika for this idea!):

A moment later, rational thought kicks in. It may just be an Arasaka employee coming to check on Rooney. Someone who wanted to hurt them wouldn’t make so much noise. They’ll continue with the one-word answers, the easiest way to get any corpo to leave. Yesterday, Rooney’s psychologist nearly left their session in tears of frustration at Rooney’s refusal to provide anything real. They would talk with someone, just not someone who is in the pocket of Arasaka. Yet, Rooney still grabs a wrench in their right hand, their still human one, for good measure, before pretending to be deep in concentration while working on their motorcycle. The footsteps stop, and Rooney glances briefly at the doorway. Yorinobu Arasaka leans against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his face. Nothing inter-. They do a double take, trying to conceal the genuine surprise on their face. What the hell is he doing here? Rooney takes it back; they do miss the quiet, even if it leaves them with too much time to think about things they shouldn’t dwell on. He needs to leave, now. “Whoever you’re looking for isn’t here.” Rooney returns their gaze to their motorcycle, tone very matter-of-fact. “You don’t even know who I’m looking for.” They don’t respond. Who does he think he’s kidding? Rooney and Yorinobu both know that he isn’t looking for them. “Don’t be hasty, Shepard.” Maybe he is looking for them. But why? They feel themself tense, swallowing nervously. The last encounter between the pair ended with a glaring match and barbed insults.

And the last snippet is during the events of 2077 after V and Jackie's disastrous heist. Up until this meeting, Rooney and Yorinobu haven't spoken in a while after Rooney chose to go back to the military rather than helping Yorinobu take down Arasaka. Yorinobu mentions his father's plans for the relic, and well:

“And what does the Relic do?” They already know what it does. It turns idiot mercs with delusions of grandeur into long-dead rockstars. “My father wanted to live forever,” Yorinobu’s voice is grave, “The Relic was his answer to that.” Their eyes widen in horror, the awful insinuation not lost on them. That’s…that’s…There are not enough words in the human language for Rooney to express how awful it is. Placing the datapad down, Rooney turns to face him, horror clear on their face. Without thinking, Rooney cups his face out of concern. Doesn’t matter that they haven’t talked to him since the argument when Rooney left the facility. They’re still worried for him. “Yori…,” their nickname for him slips out as he takes this opportunity to pull them closer, “Saburo… he didn’t try to… he didn’t…?” Even after all they’ve seen, Rooney can’t bring themself to finish the sentence. “No, he never got the chance.”

[peskellence]

Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed

Tags: Post Pacifist Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Masterlist

Read on AO3 here:

Summary: A lot has changed since the revolution. Crimes against androids are now punished in the same way as crimes against humans. A reluctant Gavin Reed and his new partner RK900 have been assigned to investigate a string of disturbing murders. Despite the shift in Detroit's social climate, Gavin still holds reservations about whether or not androids are truly alive. Will his developing feelings for 'Nines' be the thing to change this?

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Depression/Self Destructive Behaviour, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 5K

"Are you sure you want to do this? It's not too late to back out." 

Gavin was only vaguely tuned in to what Tina was saying as he rummaged through his closet in search of a ‘nice’ shirt. Nice was less of the primary concern, with the more pressing issue being that the majority of clothes were either horribly creased or visibly snug—a testament to all the morning jogs and laundry he’d been skipping out on. 

With all his usual favourites piled in a hamper, he settled for a long-neglected button-down pushed to the back of the hangers. He couldn’t remember where he’d gotten it, but he suspected it had been from a misguided Secret Santa a couple of years back. 

Maybe it’ll look better on, he thought to himself. With his phone on speaker, he slipped his arms into the shirt and fastened the buttons. "Ti, you were the one that said I have two options: Either I screw Nines or I screw a stranger. I'm opting for the latter; it's less complicated." 

Upon surveying himself in the mirror, any optimism he had dissipated. The shirt fit, but that was about all it achieved—with the wide cut creating a box-like shape and the red, satin material clashing widely with his usual style. 

"But is that what you want?" Tina pressed. "Gav, I'm worried. You haven't been this torn up over someone since Jake."

"This is nothing like Jake", he grumbled defensively. "We dated for five fucking years, and then he cheated on me. I've known Nines for five fucking minutes. He's my...."

Gavin honestly didn’t know. Maybe they had been friends—or something resembling that—before everything had gone to Hell. As things stood now, he would be hard-pressed to call them friendly acquaintances. 'Distant’ or ‘begrudging’ seemed more accurate. 

Leaning towards the mirror, he continued to scrutinise his underwhelming appearance. He noted the coarse bristles that had lengthened significantly around his jaw as he attempted to smooth down his hair. A dormant self-loathing churned his stomach, wreaking havoc on his already tenuous confidence—as he picked up the keys that he had set on his nightstand and readied himself to leave the apartment. "I've got to go." 

There was silence from the other end of the receiver. It was clear that Tina regretted the advice she had given to her increasingly volatile friend—but did not want to allow this to manifest as coercion or nagging. 

"Have fun", she said with an exhale, as if straining to keep her tone light. "And try to be nice. I know that can be challenging." 

"I won't bite his dick off unless he's into it." 

"Gross." She made an exaggerated gagging noise before chuckling. "Call me tomorrow, okay?"  

"Sure. If it's a fucking disaster, which it probably will be, you'll wanna hear all about it." 

By the time Gavin arrived at the restaurant, he was twenty minutes late. Waving off a doorman who had come to greet him, he quietly surveyed the illuminated bar opposite the entrance, looking for anyone resembling his date. While his search came up empty, the plethora of bottles that adorned the shelves quietly teased him. Unable to resist the growing temptation, he decided he'd order a drink. Or two. However many it took to quell his nerves.

As time ticked by, he grew increasingly suspicious that his date had given up waiting. While the loss of a prospective hook-up was disappointing, it was no major blow. All it meant was an evening free to enjoy more familiar comforts—like a fridge full of beer and a room full of cats. Downing his glass in record time, he sent a quick update to Tina:

You:

Wanna see a pic of my date? 

He followed this up with a blurry snap of his right hand, to which Tina replied with a series of hearts. 

Actually Decent

[8:31 pm] Omg he's cute you must be so nervous.

[8:32 pm] Guessing you got stood up?

You: 

I mean I was pretty late. So I guess I stood him up

Just paid $10 for a whiskey. i'm going home. 

He was about to make his exit when he felt a light tap on his shoulder: "Gavin?"

As he turned to face the stranger, his interest subtly reignited. His date was more handsome in person. Tantalisingly tall and lean, styled impeccably in a fitted black shirt that hinted at well-sculpted muscles. After a respectable pause to savour the view, Gavin cleared his throat. "Last I checked. Alex, right?"

As it soon transpired, Alex was a talker—which made matters easier for Gavin, who was far from having the mental exuberance to exert into conversation. His voice was pleasant enough to listen to, rich in tones and inflexions that the detective was struggling to place the origin of. 

"—I’d been friends with the captain for a couple of years, but I was still surprised to be invited to play with them. They had always been pretty exclusive."

"Uh, yeah. Football." He made a strained attempt to reply, hoping to sound at least somewhat engaged. "I played for a bit in Middle School." 

His efforts backfired horribly as Alex put a premature end to his story, eyebrows pinched in confusion. "It was basketball…are you okay? You seem distracted." 

"Oh, yeah, I'm alright, just—" He stumbled with his words, trying to think of something to say. While the wine his date had purchased for them was providing a pleasant buzz, it was doing little to bolster his social skills. Any semblance of a filter swiftly abandoned him as he stumbled headfirst into a verbal swan dive. "You said your name was Alex, right? You don’t sound like an Alex." 

In what could only be considered an act of divine intervention, his date didn't take offence. If anything, he seemed charmed by the remark, chuckling around the rim of his glass before lowering it to reply. "It’s short for Alexei. I was born in Moscow, my family and I moved to America when I was nine. I have never been able to shift the accent, as much as I've tried." 

"Huh. Russian." Gavin cursed the vacancy of his reply, treating himself to a particularly large swig of wine. 

"Where did you grow up?"

"Down the street. I didn't get far, I'm not that interesting." 

"I wouldn't say that." Alex chuckled, his eyes focused on the glass that seemed perpetually drawn to the other man's lips. "You shouldn't be nervous. I'm enjoying your company." 

If their current locale was anything to go by, Gavin found that hard to believe. The tables surrounding them were extravagantly adorned with floral centrepieces and expensive silverware. Well-dressed couples stole sultry glances under the glow of candlelight. It was a far cry from the low-rent bars, and back alley fumbles that he was used to.

"This isn't really my scene." He motioned himself up and down, drawing attention to his less-than-polished appearance. "If I’d known you'd be slumming it going out with me, I probably wouldn't have messaged first." 

Alex tilted his head to one side as though taking some time to process the words. Gavin waited in anticipation for him to realise his error—to fold up his satin napkin and stand up, politely calling it an evening. Surprisingly, however, he stayed put, a soft smile creeping onto his lips. "I don't mean to undermine you, but I was the one who messaged first. Several weeks ago." 

More than a little dubious at the smoothly delivered claim, Gavin picked up his phone and opened USwipe. Scrolling back through the previous chat logs, he scrutinised them in greater detail. He soon discovered that the man was being genuine. 

"Huh. Guess you did." His voice was low and deadpanned in hopes of disguising his embarrassment. It seemed almost comedic for him to have missed such an obvious detail, especially given his profession. "I've been off the app for a while. Must have missed the notifications." 

"We're here now, so I’m willing to forgive you." Alex leant forward in his chair as he shot him a candid wink. "I'm sure there are ways you can make it up to me." 

Gavin only half-acknowledged the flirting, his attention divided as he methodically scrolled through the backlog of messages. Considering how blatantly out of his league Alex seemed to be, it was astonishing how persistently he'd been trying to flag his attention. 

"Damn, you were keen." He had not meant for the comment to sound as condescending as it did. 

Fortunately, the other man appeared to take it in stride, laughing exuberantly as he threw up his hands. "Guilty. Aside from the obvious physical attraction, you seemed like an interesting person, and I wanted to get to know you better." 

"Like I said, I'm not that interesting—

Which is why my profile is full of bullshit." 

"Oh?" Alex looked down at his plate, using his knife and fork to cut a piece of neglected steak. "You mean to tell me you aren’t really 6 foot?" 

"5'9 on a good day."

"Devastating. I’m unsure how I’ll ever recover." 

This managed to draw out a laugh from Gavin. "Seriously though, it's not all bullshit. I do have a cat, and I am a Detective." 

"Sounds to me like you were honest enough. About the things that matter." Alex forked a piece of meat into his mouth, chewing appreciatively. "Do you enjoy your work?"

Any temporary uplift in mood seemed to dampen almost immediately as Gavin stared into his glass, scowling. "For the most part, I do." 

"Why only most?"

"The case I'm on is taking a lot out of me and my partner." The words only exacerbated his rising anger. He gripped the stem of his glass tightly, trying his best not to let the unpleasant emotion get the best of him. "We don't see eye to eye."  

"I can understand difficult co-workers", Alex said attentively. "Is it a case of conflicting work styles, or is it more personal?"

"A bit of both, it's complicated."

Lips forming into a silent ‘ah’, Alex returned his attention to his plate. "Some differences can be hard to overlook." It sounded genuinely sympathetic as he spoke through another soft smile. "What department do you work in?"

"Homicide." 

He waited in trepidation for his date's response. There had been more than a couple of times in his life when prospective encounters had run a mile upon hearing what he did for a living. Perhaps it was the intrinsic involvement with corpses. 

His current company didn’t seem to mind, responding with an intrigued hum. "I know very little about the work, but I’ve always had an interest in True Crime. Have you worked on any cases I may be familiar with?" 

Gavin frowned, acknowledging this as the other response he'd grown accustomed to. People fascinated with the macabre, keen to know all the gruesome details. He was hardly in a position to judge, given his contentious taste in movies, but he'd always found it a little tone-deaf when applied to real-life suffering. 

His personal sentiments made little difference, however, as it was a line of inquiry he was obliged to shut down. "Can't really say. Confidentiality and shit."

Alex's expression fell. He promptly abandoned his cutlery, staring up at Gavin intently. "Of course not. I'm sorry for asking."

"It's fine, you're just curious." Reaching for the cooler in the centre of the table, Gavin retrieved the bottle and generously refilled his glass. Taking note of his date's dwindling supplies, he reached for the other glass when a hand shot out to stop him.

"I’m a bit of a lightweight", Alex informed, chuckling sheepishly. "Unless you want to carry me later, I think I ought to slow down."

Gavin scoffed, struggling to believe that the man was light on anything. Even seated, his imposing stature could not be concealed, with large hands and limbs that seemed to dwarf the perfectly average-sized table. "Couldn't carry you out if I tried. You're like 8 feet tall." 

It clearly wasn’t the first time Alex had heard this sort of remark, as he rolled his eyes with well-rehearsed dismissal. "Maybe I should put that on my profile. I've only lived here for a couple of months; is there much of a market for giants in Detroit?" 

"You'd be surprised how many people are into it—" Gavin smirked, taking a sip of his newly poured drink. "like to be thrown around."

"Are you one of them?" 

This uplift in confidence proved poorly timed, as Gavin nearly painted the table with a splattering of wine. If they were going to start talking about kinks over dinner, he would need something a lot stronger. 

"It's not a great time to be living in Detroit", he continued, trying to stay at least somewhat on topic. "For dating, or anything else, really." 

"It does feel like things have become a little…unstable." There was a looming severity to Alex’s tone as his gaze bore forward, intense and unwavering. "Rapidly degrading infrastructure and an increase in violent crime. Why do you think that is?" 

Gavin struggled not to laugh at the verbose question. It was glaringly obvious the sort of lifestyle his date was accustomed to, with 'sheltered rich kid' was all but tattooed across his forehead. "I feel like a lot of it has to do with the Revolution." 

Alex hummed in understanding, "I never had an android myself, but it must have been difficult for those who did. A bit like receiving a government mandate that your smartphone be granted equal rights." 

The same joke he would have laughed at a few weeks prior now left Gavin with a painful churn in his stomach. "A lot of people don't wanna believe it," he fired back, with a little more firmness than intended. "That the 'machines' they've been using and abusing for years think and feel just like us." 

"I imagine many can't believe it."

"This is getting depressing as fuck." The detective looked down at his bowl, absentmindedly twirling the noodles he had lost all appetite for. "Let's change the subject. What do you do for work?" 

"I'm a Senior Urban Planner." 

Gavin raised his eyebrows, humming in bemusement. "That would explain the sexy architect talk." It was undoubtedly an attempt at flirting, although perhaps not one of his best. "It's funny, you were starting to sound just like a—" 

Fuck. 

Fucking shit. 

His fork fell into his food with a thud. It was hard to ignore that Alex conformed to a certain 'type'. One that he was developing a burgeoning taste for. 

"Any projects I'd be interested in?" he asked, trying his best not to dwell on the similarities between his estranged partner and the handsome stranger sitting across from him.

"The primary focus of my team is Historic and Cultural Preservation," Alex began, a glint of excitement in his eyes, "Tell me: If you had to choose between prioritising the restoration of more traditional establishments or focusing on ongoing modernisation, which would you pick?" 

Gavin shrugged, unsure how to answer. "Well, I'm not really a History guy, so I'd probably go with modernisation." 

The vibrant light was promptly extinguished. Alex moved back, lips turned downwards in distaste. "Not an uncommon answer, but still…a shame. Your city has a rich history, the appreciation for which is rapidly dwindling." 

With hindsight, the detective realised that he should have dialled back the honesty—or, at the very least, delivered it with a little more tact. "Okay, no more talk about work", he insisted. "You're up next on the 'small talk' draw, let's hope you pick a decent topic."

Alex laughed, returning to his previously relaxed state with remarkable ease. Either the man boasted a tremendous capacity for positivity, or he had a thing for 'projects'. In any case, he seemed completely undeterred by Gavin's persistent lack of charm. 

"Tell me more about your cat. What’s their name?" 

"Tiffany—and there’s not much to tell, really. She’s a furry little hellspawn with a diva complex." His lips pressed together in thought, and his gaze drifted to his phone. "...Wanna see some pictures?" 

"Yes, please."

Gavin smoothly adjusted his chair until they were seated side by side. As he scrolled through his camera reel, Alex appeared genuinely captivated. 

"This one is very cute," he commented, pointing to a snapshot of Tiffany snuggled rear-first on Gavin's chest, tail coiled around his face. "You should add it to your USwipe profile. I guarantee it would net a few more matches."

"Bit a cheap move, though, isn't it? Using my pet as date bait." In his absent scrolling, Gavin didn’t realise how far he was travelling back. This was until he landed on a picture of a much younger Tiffany being held in the arms of a smiling brunette. 

"Who's that?" his date asked casually, "A friend of yours?"

"My ex, actually." The admission flowed with remarkable ease as it struck Gavin just how little it hurt to say. "That was the day we brought Tiff home; she was a gift for our one-year anniversary. Lost the guy but kept the cat. Shit happens, I guess."

Alex cast him a look of sympathy. "Was the guy worth keeping?"

Lips pursed, Gavin examined the photo with greater scrutiny. Tina had been right after all. With small, beady eyes and large ears that protruded a little too much, Jake really did look like a rat. "Hell no."

"Then I'd say it was a fair trade-off." The man beamed with infectious enthusiasm, revealing a row of straight white teeth. "What breed is she?"

"The kind you find rooting around in the garbage." 

Gavin laughed a little too enthusiastically at the joke. Considering he'd been the one to make it, and that it wasn't all that funny. With self-awareness creeping back in, he went to re-retrieve the wine bottle, only to discover that it was empty. 

"I'm guessing you're a cat person." He pronounced each word carefully in an attempt to downplay his intoxication. 

"A hundred per cent—

Unfortunately, mine passed away recently."

"Shit." Gavin blurted out thoughtlessly. He silently lamented that he could not think of anything more comforting to say as Alex stared into space, trapped in forlorn introspection. 

"Her name was Coco, a Ragdoll-Birman cross", he wistfully recalled. "She was an old girl, had a good life."

"Don't suppose you're in the market for another cat? Mine just had babies, and I'm gonna go bankrupt if I decide to keep them all." 

"That's very kind, but I'll have to decline. I had Coco for fourteen years. I was very attached." He paused, watching the other man closely as he took a slow, measured sip of wine. "I would, however, love to meet yours." 

Despite his thickening haze of inebriation, the implications of this were not lost on Gavin. He tried his best to maintain his composure despite the small flutter of excitement blooming in his stomach. "Are you inviting yourself over?"

"That depends. Are you interested?" 

The question seemed absurd. The man was stunning, comparable to a model. Of course, he ought to be interested. Despite this, Gavin hesitated, with no clear reason as to why. 

This had been what he'd wanted, after all. A chance to release all his burdensome tensions. The opportunity was presenting itself on a silver platter, and he'd be an idiot to pass it up. "I mean, kittens are great therapy. Who am I to say no?" 

Upon leaving the restaurant, the AutoTaxi rank outside was frustratingly empty. With some persistence, they were eventually able to hail a ride in a driver-manned car. It wasn't long after its departure that Alex took advantage of the darkened surroundings, indulging in some stolen touches. 

A wandering hand settled down to stroke the contours of Gavin's thigh, travelling upwards until fingers were brushing the line of his zipper. The teasing did not progress much further, however, as a long, disparaging cough from the driver put an abrupt end to the advances. Alex moved away, showing a willingness to restrain himself for a little while longer.

This restraint extended to the length of time it took to enter the apartment—as not moments after Gavin had shut the door, hands were on hin again. A gentle grip encompassed his midsection, tracing the line between his navel and hips. The touches were light, almost tender until fingers dug their way in, firmly pulling back. The subsequent friction came with a host of silent promises as the shorter man was unable to suppress a gasp. 

"You know, I'm startin' to think that you don't really want to see the cats." Gavin leant into the touch, struggling to keep his bearings.

"I can want more than one thing." Alex mused, allowing his breath to teasingly ghost the nape of his neck. "How about we say a quick hello, and then you can show me to your bedroom?" 

As requested, the detective clumsily guided his guest to the bathroom, almost stumbling headfirst on a cat toy as he did. "Just keep your distance from mom", he advised. "She isn't great with strangers." 

The warning had been well-deserved, as throughout their time in the room, Tiffany's eyes remained trained fixedly on Alex. Her apprehension quickly morphed into hostility as she shifted to an upright stance, poised to strike. When the man made the error of leaning in to steal a look at the kittens, the cat swatted a paw toward him, hissing aggressively. 

"Hey, fuckin' stop it", Gavin chided, subduing his agitated pet with a gentle stroke of her back. "Sorry. Like I said, she's a little feisty." 

Alex seemed almost completely unfazed, chuckling gently as he drew back to a safe distance. "Protective, I'd say—of you and her babies. I think that's sweet." 

"Just don't take it personally, she's like it with everyone. The only person she hasn't immediately gone for is—"    

Dammit. 

Gavin felt lips on his neck, forming a tight seal as they sought to leave marks. "She's lucky to have you caring for her." The low tones rumbled against his flesh as a scrape of teeth wreaked havoc with his clouded senses. "Tell me: When was the last time someone took care of you?" 

Swallowing a shaky breath, Gavin's reply was low and strained. "It's been a while." 

"Let me change that." 

Then he was pressed to the wall, a pair of strong hands securing his wrists as a tongue gently prised at his lips. Any anticipation that had been building promptly fizzled out, as the experience was immediately tainted by an unfortunate sense of deja vu. 

Gavin tried his best to indulge in the man's fumbled touches but found himself drifting subconsciously. The hands that bound him were a little too coarse, and the tongue too rough as it poked its way through. It left him feeling unfulfilled, wishing for something else.

Feigning enthusiasm, he moaned weakly into the kiss, sliding a hand up Alex's chest. Gavin waited for something to ignite, anything that might tell him he still wanted this—but found nothing but persistent numbness. 

His lack of excitement had not gone unnoticed by the other man, who seemed confused at the lack of activity when he ground their hips together. 

"Are you okay?" Alex asked slowly. "We can slow down a bit if you want." 

Gavin could have easily made an excuse about being too drunk—or pushed himself forward despite his reservations—but found himself unable to do so. It felt wrong to allow things to continue, knowing full-well that any intimacy shared would be plagued by thoughts of someone else. 

"Look, it’s not you", he sighed, eyes shut tight in frustration. "Obviously, it's not you. I’m just in a bit of a shit place right now." 

"I wouldn't want to force you into anything. We can cuddle—or even just talk—if you think that might help?" 

"I don't think so." He placed a hand on Alex's shoulder, encouraging him to move away. "I just can't do this right now'. 

The other man did not resist the touch, although he did persist in his questioning. "Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?" 

"No, you haven't, I just—" There was a nausea that was becoming increasingly harder for Gavin to ignore. He was unsure if the source was psychological or if there was a real danger he might be sick. "It’s really fucking complicated." 

A thoughtful pause hung in the air as Alex digested the information. Then he hummed as if arriving at a quiet revelation. "...Your partner. I see. That is unfortunate." 

"It's probably best if you leave", he replied, coming to his own sobering conclusion. "I'm sorry for messing you around." 

"I understand." The other man stood up, masking any disappointment as respectfully as possible. He seemed to take a moment to gather himself before finally speaking again. "Maybe it's not my place to say, but I can see that you're hurting. I hope that you'll act in your best interests and make the right choice." 

"Thanks." Gavin leant his head backwards, finding it increasingly hard to hold upright. He stared at the whirring extractor fan, trying to focus his vision. "And sorry—again." 

"It's okay. You have my number; if you ever need to talk to someone, I'll be happy to listen." 

After Alex had left, Gavin sat alone in the bathroom for quite some time. The mewls of the kittens and the noise of the fan were the only things to ground him as he sank to a new emotional low. With fumbling hands, he grabbed his phone, opening an unread message from Tina:

Actually Decent (2)

[10:59 pm] did you jerk off yet

[11:00 pm] how would you rate the experience on a scale of 1-10

You: 

ti im fucked up 

its nibes

nines* 

hes got my head messed up. i dont know what to do 

It wasn't until after he sent the message that he realised the time. There was a very good chance his friend was asleep and wouldn't see his text until morning, long after his crisis had ended. Spurred on by drunken reasoning, Gavin concluded that if he wanted to find any semblance of closure, he would need to confront the source.

It only took three rings for his partner to answer: 

"Detective Reed…?" His voice was slow and cautious like he was questioning the plausibility of the call. 

"Nines, this is fucked," Gavin groaned down the receiver, any sense of shame having deserted him with his sobriety. "It's all fucked up. Can we please just talk about it?"

The silence that followed was stifling. It was unclear if the android was working to decipher the man's disordered words or if he had simply hung up on him. Gavin lifted his phone to check when a voice called out, beckoning his attention:

"It is very late," Nines informed, in a way that nestled uncannily between reprimand and concern. "It would be best to defer this discussion until morning. After you’ve rested." 

"If I don't say this now, I never will." The man kicked out his legs, trying to find a more comfortable position, only to lodge himself awkwardly between the wall and the bathtub. "I don't want to ‘wash my hands’ of you. I like being partners, I like havin' you around, and I wanna believe that you do as well."

"You're slurring your words. I'm struggling to understand what you're saying." 

"If it means forgetting about the…thing that happened, I'm happy to do it." In an attempt to wriggle from his unfavourable position, he allowed his head to slip further back, inadvertently knocking the sink. 

The dull thud that ensued was clearly audible through the receiver as Nines was quick to address it. "Gavin, have you fallen?"

"Nah, I just hit m' head."

"Are you alone?" The concern in his tone had become much more apparent, "Do I need to come over?"

"I'm fine, seriously. I just want us to be fine as well. I know that sounds stupid; we've only been partners for a couple of weeks, but I really was startin' to feel…" He trailed off, rubbing his head as a sharp ache set in. "Fuck, that really hurt." 

"You're drunk", his partner concluded with a low exhale. "I suggest you go to bed before you cause yourself any further injury." 

Gavin grappled with another wave of nausea, sending him on a sloppy recline towards the toilet. "Can't. Think I might puke", he complained, retching as he did. "Look, just listen for a minute. There was somethin’ else I wanted to say. I need to think." 

"If I listen, will you promise to heed my suggestion? After you've emptied your stomach, of course." 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." 

As his head slipped into the bowl, Gavin realised he had no clear plan for what he wanted to say, having hoped that the words would find him in a moment of drunken enlightenment. Unsure how else to proceed, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "You're not a toaster. I don't know why I said that. I was just mad." 

"I believe you implied that I wasn't a toaster—as a toaster would be incapable of being such a 'cruel, vindictive asshole'." 

"Fuuuuck", the strain in his voice, combined with the echo of his current surroundings, lent a strange theatrics to the expletive. "That's worse, isn't it? I’m really sorry." 

Nines dismissed his concerns, albeit with an amused huff. "Don't be. My behaviour over the last few days has been deplorable. I was upset over a personal issue, and I took this out on you. That was wrong and deeply unfair. I hope you can forgive me." 

'Personal issue' invited more questions than Gavin would have cared for. While he considered pressing for more information, he ultimately decided against it. 

If it meant salvaging the budding connection they had established, he would delay speculation about what it meant—or what it might become. "If you're sorry too, does that mean we're okay?" 

"I sincerely hope so."

[marcusrobertobaq]

It's just me that think Connor would never work with the local police (officially) even if they ask him? Idk, something about his Canon-PathTM screams wariness of cops (as org) and other major law enforcements orgs.

He'll be always a piece of plastic for these folks, now a threatening piece of plastic after, well...everything. These orgs means nothing to him. He was under CL, only CL and for CL (represented by Amanda AI in his shit). Hank in canon-pathTM is def fired. Connor ain't got anyone there - not even Chris (the friendly one), dude's only a officer. The high ranks are the fucked up part here. And, man, CL...i don't think CL is happy at all.

While him in cop uniform may look sexy (and dumb), it represents exactly the opposite of his Canon-PathTM idea. In law enforcement he'll used like a tool again, having to submit to orders from a human org in a enviroment where people gonna hate him cuz he's an super high tech android stealing jobs. Give mf payment and it will be even worse. Ain't a public opinion status that gon magically change people's minds, Reed is an example. Heavy environment is synonym of INEFFICIENCY and DPD ain't a org with a positive view in this universe - unless u get Markus to be totally violent from beginning and the android being hated (which ain't Canon-PathTM). This way cops gonna be seen as ultimate heroes.

So, yeah, i prefer Connor with Jericho folks, or even dealing with his own shit alone if he wants. Also, there are some endings (like the revolution + connor army one) that implies androids gonna take Detroit for a long time until negotiations start, and that would mean occupying certain places.

Now, if u still wanna use Connor's ability for law enforcement i'd sugest androids orgs controlling these spaces, not only one person. Ofc not under the human org, androids are wary of law enforcement people. An android working under humans like this would def awake betrayal feelings in some of 'em. How do i explain? A I help u, u help me could work, know what i mean? When u got contacts inside each faction (human police, android security) it's easier doing favors and helping acquaintances. Ain't me sayin' should have segregation, i'm just being realistic. Harmony comes with a lotta effort.

But let me remind u of something: be prepared for Detroit 2048 cuz shit gonna take time to work if u wanna something official in papers.

SUMMARY OF EVERYTHING I SAID: I don't mind if u like your DPD Fantastic 4 mixed with an average cop TV show, but it's weird af imo. And i just don't like the idea of Connor working in the local police, but lending a hand from outside is another thing.

[scaryspears]

Twilight Fancasts of Main Cast + Opinions

This is mostly based on my last Twilight fancast post I made, which was just Bella, Edward and Jacob. I've decided to think of more actors to add in the mix, might have to make separate posts for all the characters, though.

Bailey Bass as Bella Swan

Jun Shison as Edward Cullen

1. If bro can play a kitsune in a human's body I'm pretty sure he can pull off Edward. We just need to know if Jun Shison speaks English.

2. Also, Edward needs to be an evil dick just because of vampire reasons. He needs to be mysterious and in a good way, not the way the movies portrayed him awkwardly.

Dakota Beavers as Jacob Black

Don't make him cut his hair, and he needs to be Native American.

Also, get rid of the whole imprinting thing if they're just going to make it gross.

Julia Rehwald as Alice Cullen

I read short hair and small frame, and I thought of her.

Evan Rachel Wood as Rosalie Hale

I found out she was around 16 when playing Tracy from Thirteen, which might make this fancast iffy since I'm using her teenage self for the gif, considering the other actors I fancasted are 18+. But I remember watching the film and thinking that she looked like she would make a great Rosalie, which is ironic since Nikki Reed also starred in Thirteen. I know she's quite old, but I think we should find a look-a-like that looks like her younger self.

Tanner Buchanan as Jasper Hale

1. I was trying to find handsome but creepy blond actors. Wasn't really able to find any, so bare with this. I think Tanner could manage being mysterious and creepy.

Chosen Jacobs as Emmett Cullen

1. I remember reading some human version fanfics of the main characters, and in some of them Emmett would be Bella's older - and sometimes twin - brother. With that in mind, if Bella's black/mixed, then Emmett is too because why not?

Antony Star as Carlisle Cullen

1. I think Carlisle's human body should be older, and thus also be played by an older actor. I know Antony Star doesn't have those same vibes that Carlisle does, but he does give off a stern exterior when playing Homelander in some scenes, and I wanna see that is Carlisle.

Emmy Rossum as Esme Cullen

1. I don't know what to think of Esme other than the fact that I know that she's taller than Bella and randomly gave some info that she lost her baby very soon. I figured she was older when she was turned, just like I envisioned for Carlisle, but somewhat looks very young (I mean, a person is still young even if they're in their thirties).

Wood Harris as Charlie Swan

1. I'm looking for old head vibes. Man from the old hip hop vibes. "Guy that listens to Tupac regularly" vibes.

2. Also, let Charlie be a temporary supernatural hunter that protects Forks.

Zahn McClarnon as Billy Black

Chace Crawford as James

James is described to be very plain looking, despite the fact that he had the vampirism that was supposed to make him look more appealing, so I was thinking about The Deep whilst reading the book.

Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as Laurent

I think Edi Gathegi really stood out as Laurent, more dark skinned villains please.

2. Since Laurent is hinted to come from thanks to his accent I decided to pick an actor that is from New Orleans. I don't know why, I just decided to. Maybe I memorised some kind of misinformation about there being French speakers, I don't know.

3. If they really do make a Twilight remake and they toss Laurent to the side I'm actually gonna be so mad, because Laurent's appearance was promising, and then they chose James' boring arse.

Sophie Skelton as Victoria

I loved Rachelle Lefevre's performance as Victoria, so I want that same vibe of "seemingly innocent but clearly has a hidden agenda/motive". I know it's been a while since she's been in any films (from what I know), but I think she can pull it off. Since Laurent is hinted to be French I think it would be great that they let her be British when playing Victoria. (There's no they, but play along.)

[soultek]

Lover. Fighter. - A Concept

Everybody says there's two kinds of hearts Where one loves and one goes to war I know, it's not easy or that simplified, no But you and I are on each others side I know, it's not easy or that simplified, no But don't you know that I'd lay down my life

I will be your Lover. Fighter. Harder. Higher. Lover. Fighter. I wanna fight for Lover. Fighter. Under fire Lover. Fighter. I wanna fight for love

--- [Playlist] ---

Word Count: 1879

Concept: After being released into the world on the anniversary of Markus’ Hart Plaza march, the RK900 model is sent to Detroit PD. Said to be deviant proof, many want to test that theory... But there are more pressing matters, threats to lives in D.C. due to the ever increasing number of protests lead Nines to his first real test. And she doesn’t like him much, either...

Warnings: Mentions of violence and death threats. 

A/N: This is only a prologue to the above ‘concept’ I have some more info for you in the tags though! 😊 Had to post this for the anniversary! It’s been in my drafts since May 9th 2022... 😅

---

In the just over 18 months since Markus’ march on Hart Plaza, plenty had already changed in the world. That was just in the immediate circle of the movement and their allies within Detroit Police Department. Connor hadn’t given up his role as a detective, and nowadays he had almost as many rights as his human counterparts – give or take a few, Markus and co. were in Washington D.C. seemingly every other weekend negotiating something or other.

Cyberlife had turned into something more of an android repair shop and upgrade centre. Those who chose to remain with their human families certainly needed such things – and those who didn’t could still drop by. Even with Jericho also open to welcome and service all commers. And – like it or not – certain androids still needed to return to Cyberlife for such tuning. Connor being a prime example – though these days he hardly ever went unaccompanied. And, Kamski was more or less back in the driver’s seat, so… it was unlikely anything untoward was going down.

With one notable exception. Nines. The RK-900 model was released exactly a year after Markus’ revolution – that was no coincidence. Cyberlife had been working on an android that was impossible to turn Deviant for a long while. They weren’t just going to lock him away. No, instead Nines (as he was now affectionately dubbed) was shipped out to the central precinct of the DPD to be the very last machine. Even if he was the first of his kind. The most advanced model cyberlife had ever created – and at least as far as the foreseeable future was concerned, the last model to ever be released. He may not have been a prototype – but he was damn near as cold and efficient as Cyberlife had wanted Connor to be. And also eerily looked like him, which had caused many to steer clear for Nines’ first few months on the job.

Though, considering for some insane reason he’d been paired up with Gavin Reed, it was fairly understandable why anyone would want to steer clear. Try as Gavin might to protest it, no one budged and try as he might to insult his partner into giving up, Nines was unflappable. But, had a sense of sarcasm where it was never quite easy to tell if he was joking or just plain being mean. (When he was talking to Gavin it was nearly always the latter).

Markus and Connor – what with the power they had to deviate android models as prototypes - had always talked of doing something about it. Regarding testing if Cyberlife’s “incorruptible” android really was all that. But Ilyana – Jericho’s sole Human ‘member’, for relation purposes – was always adamant that if Nines were to turn, it would have to be on his own terms; his own realisation, just as it had been for them. She had been the one to first call him “Nines” instead of his model number, and he’d duly adopted it. If he could show any form of affection and emotion, it was usually to her. Which is how this sudden change in plans had really come about.

  Paige Carlin, CSI, was one of the people who had taken a long while to warm to the new presence in the precinct. She liked androids well enough, but… considering her situationship with Connor it was never going to be easy getting used to someone who looked almost identical. As she stepped into the office this morning however, having just about got used to his presence, she found Nines standing at his desk with a box – packing. She raised an eyebrow, stuffing her hands into her pockets. This was unexpected, and sudden, he’d not said anything about moving. Glancing to Connor and Hank, she found herself none the wiser, they were both working at their desks seemingly unbothered (though, Connor would probably like being the only android in Central again.)  

She approached Nines slowly, not to seem nosy but only appropriately curious. “Where are you off to!?” He looked up, gave a slight nod to acknowledge her – his version of Good Morning she supposed, and then went right back to packing. “I’ve been reassigned.” Paige almost couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows in shock, “T- To a new precinct?! Where are you going? We’ve only just got used to you being here and integrated, and they’re making you leave?! That doesn’t seem fair!” Although, she could assume with almost 99% positivity that Gavin probably had something to do with it – despise Androids as he still did. Paige had issues of her own with Nines’ partner. Ex-Partner. Even though the android seemed pretty unbothered by this change of plans, Paige couldn’t help but glare into Gavin’s back. “We’re all gonna miss you! Especially Gavin but I’m sure he’ll get over it - after 2 weeks of uncontrollable crying.” She was impressed with herself, less than five minutes in the office and already able to get digs in at her least favourite co-worker? Must have been a new record. The man in question turned around and shot her a look. Needless to say, she wasn’t his favourite person either.

This time Nines stood still, giving her his full attention, to address her question properly. Which she appreciated, even though his blue eyes were still unnerving. Did CyberLife really have to make them THAT blue!? She thanked God sometimes that he at least didn’t have the same voice they’d given Connor. There was the same kind of tone, same rhythm, but it was a little deeper – and he pronounced words and letters ‘properly’- The ‘t’s and ‘g’s, in particular, were never dropped. “I’m going to D.C.” Paige stalled for a second - well, she hadn’t been expecting that. “Washington!? Wow. What!?” Nines nodded, looked like he was about to hesitate telling her something and then decided to say it anyway, “More specifically, the White House.” “The- the White House!?” She spluttered, eyes wide, before collecting herself. Actually, that seemed very logical. “Well, yeah, I… I guess with all you can do that makes sense! Security?” He blinked once, straightening to his towering full height; “In a way.” That was Nines’ way of politely asking her to drop the questions before he started telling her everything was classified. Paige merely nodded, understanding. “I guess they… didn’t really build you for…” She waved her hands at the station floor, “this! A lot of wasted potential in your design just being here!” That was true. Connor had been built for police work, for all intents and purposes, Nines had been built for war.

Speaking of her favourite android, from the other side of the precinct Connor couldn’t help but look up, a little hurt. Paige didn’t even need to see him to know this had occurred and pointed back at him, “I knew you were gonna take offence to that!” Connor looked from her to Nines and back, head tilted, “I didn’t even say anything!” She looked back at him with a wink, “Babe, I know you!” Before turning back to Nines with a smile, “Congrats boy, you’re going places! You’ll have to remember your friends back in DPD central precinct when you’re up in the lofty heights of DC political society!” What ghost of a smile emote she presumed CyberLife had coded him with for ‘happiness’, Nines gave her in return, “I’m sure I’ll be back visiting – it’s not like Detroit isn’t a political centre itself these days.” The ‘what with’ was left unsaid, but in unison they both managed:

“Markus.” Before Paige nodded again, “Makes sense! You’ll have to let us know every time you’re in town! Does Ilyana know, she’ll be upset for sure!” Nines – as Paige predicted – managed to make his smile a little more genuine at the mention of said woman. It almost reached his eyes. “Yes. I was discussing things with her recently, in fact she is where this comes from.” Paige’s eyebrows raised again, this time she leaned forward onto his desk, “From Il- no, I changed my mind I shouldn’t be concerned if she’s upset! I should be blaming her!” She took a breath, and chuckled, “I’m kidding, this will be great for you! I hope you enjoy it!” If he even knew what that meant. Still, Nines responded as expected. “I’ll do my best.”

There were a few seconds silence that followed, but the intent stare that Paige was giving him told Nines all he needed to know. Exactly what she was asking when she wasn’t even asking it. Nines could read her like a book. “I can’t tell you what I’m doing there, Ms. Carlin - it’s classified!” There was the word she expected, but it disappointed her all the same. Couldn’t he make an exception for the group of people here he might be able to call friends? Ilyana would probably know – but getting anything out of her would be just as hard, Paige would reckon. Connor quirked an eyebrow, still listening into the conversation. Eyes flicking to his computer. Classified? Yeah right - he could have that file cracked in two seconds and Nines probably knew it. Paige would likely know the information she was after before he even got the chance to leave the building. Still, as far as Nines was concerned it would remain classified if he hadn’t told her.

Truth was it wasn’t just any normal type of security Nines would be heading to the White House for – and it wasn’t really government work either. With Androids gaining their own rights there were obviously a lot of people who, having previously had problems with Androids when they were viewed as ‘machines’, had even more problems with them now. Anti-Android protests and groups sparked up across the country and whenever they were on the news, they were a great point of contention. Usually this was the point that Nines would hear Hank and Paige swear most and turn off the news so as not to get so mad they’d put their fists through the screen. On the other side of things there were the pro-android groups; those supporting the android movement, who felt like the government weren’t doing enough, even when they were working in collaboration with Markus. Mostly the protesting was non-violent but, that didn’t mean they all were. And, during all of this the president had received a number of death threats. Warren wasn’t so concerned about herself – she had the best of the best in the secret service guarding her.

What she was worried about was the number of credible threats against her daughter’s life. In the hope that they could sway her decisions one way or another. Having offhandedly mentioned this to Ilyana one day on a visit, Markus’ young, quick thinking, human relations partner had the perfect solution. The most advanced model CyberLife had ever created? Virtually indestructible? Not a deviant? (In fact, Nines was programmed to patch any potential source of deviancy – hence unconvertable.). Paige was right, his talents fit him in the DPD fine, but they were wasted. A few weeks and negotiations later Nines found himself assigned to be the personal bodyguard to one Ms. Rie Warren.

And he believed he was looking forward to it. ---

Thank you for reading! Happy Anniversary DBH! 💙

[fluffykiddosstuff]

Just a machine? (Gavin x nines)

Warnings : angst, fluff, Attempted suicide and murder

Gavin was standing on a rooftop, a big winter jacket on his back, trying to stop his partner for doing the unbelievable.

- nines for phck sake can't you think two minutes about this!?

The android was near the edge of the rooftop, a gun inside of his right hand, pointed against his head

- my name is rk900 detective! And don't you dare trying to stop me! I failed my mission, I failed Amanda, the deviants took the city and since cyberlife is under their hands I have to self destruct myself!

- you dipshit, the androids won the war yes but they didn't go violent! Connor and Markus saved many lives from both sides, and you know how much I hate Connor but he was right, at first I didn't liked you but, spending time with you made me realize androids aren't so bad!

The machine was troubled, he was sent by cyberlife to assist the detective reed after Connor went deviant, and the rk900 fighted for 4 months against his own people, he wasn't supposed to fail, feel or things like that, he was stronger, faster, more resilient and his program couldn't self destruct himself like the others androids. He worked with gavin, and in those 4 long months, he started to like the human's company, even tho he wasn't supposed to feel,

But it's the time when the androids won, and all his world was destroyed. Amanda was still in his system, telling him to fight against his predecessor, but even he, as the most advanced prototype by cyberlife, made every scenarios and noone would work, he was alone, against almost all the world, it was impossible even for him to save the humanity from the deviants, it was too late.

The detective came closer, holding to his jacket, looking at the android, dead in the eyes.

- and what is so bad about that!? Cyberlife is under their hands so you don't have to obey anyone anymore, not humans or this shitty company! I hate to say this when some times ago I hated every single on of you with all my heart but, you can be your own person, and choose whatever you want to do in life, you made me realize that, take a moment to think about that before doing something so dumb! I thought you were smarter than this!

When he finished his sentence, he remembered the first time Gavin called him "nines" instead of his model number, saying that it was shorter and calling him connor like his predecessor was weird, he didn't knew why but the machine liked that, and registered his new name with a little smile at this time, as he was remembering many scenes with his partner, he lowered his gun, but suddenly, amanda came right in front of his vision.

- I can't let him corrupt you, you must fight against deviants! Even if it means making sacrifice

Suddenly, he pointed his gun in front of the human male, Gavin looked at him, not moving, waiting for what he was going to do or say

- I don't wanna shoot you detective, but I have a mission to accomplish! Of course, it wasn't nines talking but amanda controlling his program

- phck the mission, forget it already and let's go back to the station! Wind flew into both of the man's hairs, a thick tension in the air between the two

- you must do it rk900, shoot him so you can finish what you were built for!

But nines didn't want to obey this woman anymore, he already broke the red wall of his program when he decided to spare connor in the new Jericho building, but she was taking control again, he needed to find a way out of her manipulation and quick before she made him do something he was gonna deeply regret. He ran to the stone with a glowing hand on it, connor told him there was a way out of the program, nines at first thought of the red wall but all of his sayings was clear now, he putted his hand on it, eyes almost Lifeless, body covered in white snow. When he came back to his sense, amanda made him shoot, but he had the time to move his hand so the bullet could hit the ground and not his partner.

The no longer machine felt on his knees, dropping the gun, looking at his partner with guilt and fear.

- I'm sorry Gavin.. I didn't mean to..

It was the first time he called him by his first name, the detective came closer and helped nines getting up, helping him getting rid of snow on his shoulders.

- I don't know what happened there and I don't care, what's important is that we are both alive eh? Let's get back to the station tin can

The human smiled a bit as the deviant did the same, they both walked in the streets until they arrived at the station, they didn't really noticed it but they were holding hands, the rk900 fake skin getting off, showing he was trusting and loving this dumb and rude human, and not even his at first assigned program could stop that.

-----

I'M SORRY IT'S BEEN LONG SINCE I POSTED BUT I HAD EXAMS (BTW I PASSED LOL!) AND I'M STILL WAITING TO BUY A LAPTOP BC I'M WAY MORE COMFORTABLE WRITING ON A LAPTOP! I still have to do many parts to some story's 8 writed before but it will come I promise 😭

[darthkvznblogs]

As a person who's read the Ultimate comics, I can confirm for the other anon that Reed has the capability of being far more dangerous and frightening than Doom. With Doom, there are still facets of him that scream human, but with Reed, one must only look at other counterparts like Zombie Reed or The Maker to see how horrifying and inhuman he can be.

Agreed! Definitely an antagonist you wanna keep an eye on, regardless of how amiable he might act in the moment.