#best machinery spare parts

[rushmoregroups]

How to get heavy machinery parts at customized rates

Regarding heavy machinery, having access to reliable and high-quality parts is crucial for ensuring optimal performance and minimizing downtime. However, finding heavy machinery parts at customized rates can be a challenge. Luckily, there are ways to get the needed parts while staying within your budget.

[global-impex]

As global awareness of environmental issues and the urgency of reducing energy consumption grows, the mining industry is increasingly focusing on sustainable practices. Let’s delve into this article to know the move towards environmental protection and energy-saving technologies in mining machinery and equipment.

[phoenixtakaramono]

Into the Butchlander Multiverse Threadfic - Part II

Tumblr Navigation: I | II

EXCERPTS: "Fuck being a gentleman. If I waited for you any longer, we'd both be in our eighties. ...So believe me, William. As much as this hurts me to do this...you have to be punished a little." | Like a brat who doesn't realize the consequences of his actions and that he's about to get spanked, Homelander invites with an easy grin, "Well, gentlemen, which one of you wants to go first?"

CW: 🔞 scene involving 7 Butchers sandwiching 1 Homelander, spoilers for The Name of the Game (AO3), Truce (AO3), and my other butchlander AU threadfics these 5 Butchers originate from

(You can read the rest of the threadfic update here!)

If you don’t have a Twitter account, screenshots are provided below the line break so you can read this update on Tumblr as well (contains ⚠️🔞 below, so proceed with caution if you’re out in public):

Billy recognizes the pensive look Homelander's directing over at Billy's doppelgängers, with his pretty blue eyes all expressive and forlorn.

Once Sameer wanders out of earshot, Homelander floats on over to Billy, his deep honeyed voice full of longing as he whispers, "Why can't we keep them here?"

Billy is not about to sit down and explain to Connie Butcher née Atkinson why she suddenly has a set of seven nearly-identical septuplets—when she'd only given birth to two sons.

Neither does Billy want to share his Homelander with them.

But instead of voicing his true thoughts aloud, Billy retorts calmly, "Because, John, you have me, don't you?" The moment the name fell from his lips, he knows he's gotten Homelander's attention. Billy spares him a look.

They were going to have a nice long chat about the dreams Homelander had mentioned having—but now’s clearly not the time for that conversation.

"Besides...they all got their own Homelanders to go home to.” Billy offers a smirk. “Let's not separate the lovers, eh?"

It's the smart answer, because that's what gets Homelander to reluctantly do away with any of his dark intrusive thoughts to sabotage the machine and hold all six Butchers back as some sort of f*cked up modern-day harem of Butchers to cater to him, preventing them from returning to their worlds.

But it's an answer that must've jinxed Billy’s, because the moment that all six Butchers blink out of existence in a brilliant glow, the machine starts sparking. Sameer’s shouts for a fire extinguisher are heard as a blanket of smoke buffets the air.

The overhead sprinklers came on, raining down on the sparking machinery.

But that’s not the issue. Because now, standing in the vacated space of the six Butchers who'd disappeared, six Homelanders, and his Homelander, are staring back shell-shocked at one equally stunned William J. Butcher.

(The End...?)

———

(A/N) - Y'all... Groan with me, because this writer had written completely beautiful romantic prose that'd been 58 tweets long at the end from 1AM to 6AM—when my computer decided to restart on me. 😂😥 I did my best to recreate what I could remember here, but we light candles for what could've been my best 🔞 writing for a threadfic, ahhhhhh. I did my best but this is only a 60% recreation. RIP 💀. I hope y'all enjoyed nonetheless! ✨（￣︶￣）↗　

By the way, the ending is open-ended because it teases a second follow-up to this threadfic. But it won't be till later when I start it.

[roetrolls]

I wasn't initially gonna post Mavrik until I knew more about her but I changed my mind because I wanna show off the new stuff I've been trying (largely inspired by the things I like in Newt's art hehe)

I've been trying some new brushes for sketching and lines too :}

Anyways Mav's a scavenger who salvages spare parts with their partner (@/fantrollology) to sell and modify their ship. She can see through the machinery to locate the best parts!

She also frequents a junkyard/biker planet I've been cooking for a while now, I need to develop that some more.

[not-neverland06]

Broken Machinery

Pt. 7 (completed series)

Series masterlist

Connor RK800 x fem!reader

A/N: We’re nearly at the end, if you’ve stayed this long, thank you so much, this being my first fan fiction, these characters mean a lot to me.

Content Warnings: Cussing (duh), Elijah Kamski and his greasy man-pony, Hank’s insult towards Perkins (that scene still makes me laugh), 

Word Count: 5.3k

Series Summary: You and your grumpy partner Anderson gain a new addition to the team. He’s supposed to be CyberLife’s best, but there’s something not quite right with his programming, and the problems seem to revolve around you.

You and Hank were standing side-by-side in the snow. It was the closest Connor had ever seen either of you, Hank’s phone was outstretched between you both while you leaned in to hear whoever was on the other side. 

Connor got out of the car and made his way over to you both. Your face was pale as you leaned against the car, disbelief streaking across your features. “Is everything okay?”

Stress levels were high for the both of you, Connor could only assume that whoever had been on the other side of that call hadn’t brought you good news. 

When it was clear you weren’t going to talk, Hank did, “Chris was on patrol last night. He was attacked by a bunch of deviants-”

“It was a peaceful protest,” you were glaring at Hank, you seemed more angry than concerned. 

“Well Chris was almost shot! Doesn’t sound very fucking peaceful to me!”

You scoffed and kicked off the car, “They shot first, and the deviants spared them. It sounds like the androids showed more humanity than the fucking humans did.”

“Chris just became a father, you want to be the one to tell his daughter that her daddy died so some robots-“

“That’s the thing, Hank, he didn’t die! They didn’t kill him, they spared him, have you ever taken your head out of your ass long enough to ask yourself if you’re on the right side of this war?” You gave Connor a long look before you started your way to Kamski’s house. 

Hank shook his head and kicked at the snow. “She’s gonna be the death of me.”

“Judging off your diet and exercise habits, I’d say a heart attack is the most likely cause of death.” 

Hank slowly turned towards Connor, murder in his glare, “The fuck, Connor?”

“Are you coming?” You were already at the door, waiting for them both. 

“Yeah, yeah, just having all my life choices judged by a fucking android.”

Connor ignored Hank’s anger, as he’s gotten used to doing and focuses on a strange feeling in his core component. It felt twitchy, wrong. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

It was too late, you’d already rung the doorbell and the door had already been opened. An RT600 was standing there, hair up in a pony and barefoot on the carpet. “Hi,” this was the most polite Connor had seen Hank. “I’m, er, Lieutenant Hank Anderson, Detroit Police Department, I’m here to see Mr. Elijah Kamski.”

The android's face warmed immediately, “Please, come in.” You entered first, clearly eager to be out of the cold. “I’ll let Elijah know you’re here. But please, make yourself comfortable.” 

You took a look around the room at the art before throwing yourself down in a chair. “He’s so rich he has his own waiting room,” you scoffed and picked at the arm of the chair. Hank sat down in the chair next to yours, arms crossed and waiting. 

You turned slightly so you didn’t have to face him. 

Hank did the same. 

You both were behaving like children. Connor sometimes wished he had more mature humans. “Nice girl,” the comment seemed out of place for someone like the Lieutenant, who despised androids so much. 

“You’re right she’s really pretty,” and she was, but Connor found your features more appealing. He probably should have voiced the second part of his thought out loud because your stress level spiked immediately after his comment. 

“Gavin asked me out,” it was incredibly out of place in the conversation, but you were looking at Hank, not Connor. “Said he wanted to apologize for how much of a dick he had been lately.” Connor found his motivations suspicious, even when you two were arguing Gavin was highly aroused by your presence. 

“So he thinks schmoozing you with some cheap wine and a crappy Italian restaurant is gonna do that?”

You laughed and the previous irritation from your comment left Connor, slightly. What was this strange tight feeling in his chest?

“Jesus, how’d you know?”

“Please, I’ve been at this a lot longer than Reed has. I know all the moves.” 

You fake gagged and covered your ears, “I do not want to know about your ‘moves.’”

“Come on, you don’t want to hear how your old man used to be a lady killer?” There was an awkward stutter in his voice when he said ‘your old man,’ but Hank continued on. 

You were staring at Hank, heart beating faster and your eyes widened. You only allowed a moment to lull in between his sentence and yours. “Awkwardly calling the barista sweetheart, does not count as being a lady killer.” Your and Hank’s laughter filled the room after your comment, both of you smiling more than he had ever seen before. 

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

Connor stopped in front of the portrait of Elijah Kamski, his creator. The laughter had stopped a few minutes ago, the tension from outside trailing off with it. You didn’t know why you had gotten so angry at Hank out at the car. 

Maybe you were still a little emotionally frail, after telling Connor everything that had happened between you and Hank, the other night. You hadn’t been able to go back to sleep so he had offered to hold you and tell you a story, apparently he had thousands on file. 

It was nice listening to his voice all night, you didn’t even feel that tired after not getting any sleep. 

“How’s it feel, to be meeting your creator, Connor?”

“Kamski is one of the great geniuses of the 21st century. It’ll be interesting to meet him in person.”

The light aura surrounding the three of you left at Hank’s voice, “Sometimes I wish I could meet my creator face to face, I’d have a couple of things I’d wanna tell him.”

You’re not the only one.

Why had, whatever omnipotent presence watched over you, chosen to make you the way they had? Why give you trial after trial of hardship? Was it all to prepare you for moments like when you lost your legs, or Cole? Why even make you go through that in the first place?

Yes, you did come out stronger and more resilient. But you also became colder, lonelier, sadder than you had ever been before. You couldn’t open up to people, you couldn’t love people the right way. 

You’d rather put all your feelings into a machine rather than a human, because that would be easier. An android could never love you, and therefore never disappoint you. Your hopes would never be crushed under Connor’s feet because you had none. 

The girl chose the middle of your emotional crisis to call you back into another room. “Elijah will see you now.”

Two more RT600’s were talking together by the pool. Elijah was still swimming laps, you called out to him in case he hadn’t heard you come in. “Mister Kamski?”

“Just a moment, please.” Of course, rich bastards like him always had to flout their superiority over the lower class. You called us in here, asshole.

The RT600’s watched you carefully as you rounded the pool and waited for him by a set of chairs. Ew, is that a speedo? He took the robe from Chloe and wrapped his hair up in a pony. Double douche points. 

Hank seemed to be thinking the same thing, if his judgmental side-eye was anything to go by. 

Why were you even here?

“I’m Lieutenant Anderson, this is detective Y/L/N, and Connor.”

“What can I do for you, officers?”

“Sir, we’re investigating deviants, thought you might be the best person to ask about them,” Elijah gave you a look that reminded you a little too much of Gavin. 

“We know you left CyberLife years ago but I was hoping you’d be able to tell us something we don't know.” Elijah didn’t seem to be interested in what Hank had to say, he was more curious about Connor. 

“Deviants,” he started, “fascinating, aren’t they? Perfect beings with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will. Machines are so superior to us, confrontation was inevitable. Humanity’s greatest achievement threatens to be its downfall.” Jeehzus, this dude loves the sound of his own voice. “Isn't it ironic?”

Connor finally spoke up, he seemed to be the only one out of the three of you that really held Elijah’s eye.

His creator was… underwhelming. He didn’t seem much like a genius, more of a narcissist with enough money to feed all of Detroit. He also didn’t seem very concerned with the state of the world right now. 

“If a war breaks out between humans and deviants, millions could die, Mr. Kamski. It’s quite a serious matter.” He didn’t appreciate how flippant Elijah was being. 

“All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics. Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?” It certainly wasn’t good. 

“Listen, I didn’t come here to talk philosophy. The machines you created may be planning a revolution-”

You cut Hank off, “Peaceful, it still remains a peaceful revolution.”

Hank shoots you a look that keeps you quiet and he continues. “Either you can tell us something that’ll be helpful, or we will be on our way.”

Elijah was looking at you now, “Tell me, detective, do you empathize with the deviants?”

You straightened at his attention and held a defensive look on your features. “They haven’t hurt anyone, so far they’re the only ones being hurt. All I think is that perhaps people are twisting this story into something more evil than it is.”

Connor thought you were thinking with too much emotion, not enough logic. Androids didn’t get to disobey, they had one purpose and they carried it out, that’s all. 

The thought came unbidden and took him by surprise, that didn’t sound like his own thoughts. That seemed like something his programming was forcing onto him. 

Elijah nodded, “Empathy, it’s a tricky thing, give too much and it might hurt you, too little and it hurts others. What about you, Connor? Whose side are you on?”

Whose side was he on?

Connor looked to you, he wanted you safe. 

“I’m on the human’s side, of course.” You were shaking your head beside him. He thought you would be happy, why were you so difficult to read? 

“Well, that’s what you’re programmed to say, but you,” Elijah stepped closer and both you and the Lieutenant leaned in.

What did you humans want from him?

“What do you really want?”

“Im sorry, but I don’t see what you’re getting at,” he was sick of this. Break his programming, follow his orders. No one was being clear with what he was supposed to do and it was messing with his software. 

“Chloe?” The RT600 walked over, “I’m sure you’re familiar with the Turing test. Mere formality, simple questions of algorithms and computing capacity. What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy. I call it ‘the Kamski test,’ it’s very simple, you’ll see.” He faced the android, his hand trailing over her face and shoulders in a strange caress, and from the way your face was scrunching Connor could tell you felt uncomfortable by the display. 

“Magnificent, isn’t she? One of the first intelligent models developed by CyberLife. Young and beautiful forever.” He released her face with a slight push and she looked right at Connor, staring deep into his eyes, he straightened his tie.

“Piece of plastic imitating a human? Or a living being,” Elijah bent down and pulled something out of the drawer between the two chairs. “With a soul,” he turned around hands in the air, and in one was a gun. He walked over to Connor and handed it to him, handle first, “It’s up to you to answer that fascinating question, Connor.” He gently pushed Chloe into a kneeling position. He took Connor’s hand in his own and pointed the gun at the center of the androids forehead. 

“Destroy this machine and I’ll tell you all I know. Or spare it, if you feel it’s alive, but you’ll leave here without having learnt anything from me.”

“Okay, I think we’re done here.”

You followed after Hank, “Come on, Connor. Let’s go.” 

Hank waved at Kamski, “Sorry to get you outta your pool,” you both we’re ready to leave, waiting for him. But he was stuck, gun in hand, staring at Chloe. 

“What’s more important to you, Connor? Your investigation, or the life of this android? Decide who you are. An obedient machine… Or a living being endowed with free will…”

Hank was insistent on leaving, “That’s enough! Connor, we’re leaving.” But you, you were just watching him, staring at him with equal amounts of curiosity and apprehension, waiting to see what he would choose. 

“Pull the trigger.”

“Connor, don’t!”

“I’ll tell you what you want to know.” 

Two conflicting orders, Connor wasn’t sure what to do. He was lost, his LED circling a steady yellow as he battled between the two orders, he looked to you. 

It all stilled, he couldn’t hear Elijah or Hank, he couldn’t feel the gun in his hand. You were just standing there, waiting for him. “It’s your choice, Connor.”

He looked down into Chloe’s eyes, his finger on the trigger, but he stopped. There was something there, she was innocent in all of this, she had no say in what was happening. There was something in her eyes that reminded him too much of you. 

He handed the gun back to Kamski. “Fascinating. CyberLife’s last chance to save humanity… is itself a deviant.”

“I’m…” what? What was he? “I'm not a deviant.” Did he actually want to say that? Or was that just another program he was forced to follow?

“You preferred to spare a machine rather than accomplish your mission.” He helped Chloe up to her feet with a care that wasn’t there when he had shoved the gun into Connor’s hand. “You saw a living being in this android. You showed empathy. A war is coming, you’ll have to choose your side. Will you betray your own people or stand up against your creators? What could be worse than having to choose between two evils?” 

Hank had wrapped an arm around you and was now wrapping one around Connor’s shoulders. “Let’s get outta here.” 

The three of you were at the door when Kamski spoke again, “By the way, I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know…”

He could feel the two of you watching him as he walked back towards the car. “Why didn’t you shoot?” Hank’s question caused him to think back to what he saw in Chloe’s eyes.

“I just saw that girl's eyes… and I couldn’t… that’s all.” Connor wasn’t sure if it was wise to tell you the exact reason he couldn’t, to tell you he saw you inside of her. Saw another version of himself leaving you behind to die on the rooftop. 

But you wouldn’t let up, “You’re always saying you would do anything to accomplish your mission. That was our chance to learn something and you let it go…” You and Hank were sharing another one of your irritating looks. 

“Yeah, I know what I should’ve done, I told you I couldn’t. I’m sorry, okay?”

Hank looked down at him, “Maybe you did the right thing.” You gave Connor a gentle pat on the shoulder as you followed Hank back to the car. Leaving Connor to wonder:

When did he start making his own choices?

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

TALK TO AMANDA

Something blue, in the distance, caught his eye. Connor walked away from the bridge that would lead him to Amanda and instead followed after the bright blue beacon. It was something that could almost mimic a shrine, a device sat in the middle, awaiting an android handprint. When Connor moved closer, the synthetic skin of his hand pulled back. The ground shook in the distance, but nothing else happened. 

He approached Amanda on the ice, it seemed to crack beneath his feet as he went. Logically, he knew he couldn’t fall through, but he was afraid of what the instability of the zen garden meant for him. 

“After what happened today, the country is on the verge of a civil war.” The androids had led a peaceful demonstration in downtown Detroit, one that quickly turned violent when SWAT teams in raid gear had started attacking them. It was the first time androids had fought back. 

You had been raving all this morning about how the news was twisting it around to make them sound like terrorists when all it had been was self defense. 

“The machines are rising up against their masters. Humans have no choice but to destroy them.”

“I thought Kamski knew something, I was wrong.” 

“Maybe he did… But you chose not to ask.”

Connor chose not to needlessly take a life. 

But the fact that he chose at all is most likely what has Amanda staring at him so distrustfully. 

“I chose not to play his twisted little game! There was no reason to kill that android!” Kill, when did Connor start thinking that androids could feel death? “Wh- Why did Kamski leave CyberLife? What happened?” His mind went back to the RK200 model, what were they hiding from him?

“It’s an old story, Connor. It doesn’t pertain to your investigation.”

“I’m not a unique model, am I? How many Connors are there?”

“I expect you to find answers, not ask questions.” Her head tilted as she examined him. “Have you experienced anything unusual recently? Any doubts or conflicts? Do you feel anything for these deviants? Or for Lieutenant Anderson? Or perhaps, the detective. She seems to cause a lot of malfunctions in your system. Is she the cause of all this turmoil?”

“I’m beginning to have thoughts… that are not part of my program.” He didn’t care if she knew the truth, he wanted to leave. He wanted to leave her and go find you, because the sudden interest she held for you was concerning. “Maybe… Maybe I’ve been compromised too…” he didn’t wait for her to dismiss him, he left. 

“You’re off the case. The FBI is taking over.”

“What?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“But we’re onto something!” Hank approached Fowler, more impassioned than Connor had ever seen him, “We- We just need more time. I’m sure we can-”

“Hank, you don’t get it. This isn’t just another investigation, it’s a fucking civil war!”

Your arms left their crossed position, you’d left the sling behind a few days ago. “So we’re gonna leave the fate of our country, our world, in the hands of some asshole like Perkins?! Fuck that!”

“Y/N, it's out of my hands! You think I don’t understand the enormity of this situation, we’re talking about national security!”

Both you and the Lieutenant were ganging up on him now, it was causing the captain's stress levels to rise as Hank approached. “Fuck that! You can’t just pull the plug now.” It was times like these that the similarities between you and Hank truly showed, perhaps not in looks, but he had clearly had a heavy hand in forming who you are as a person. 

“We’re so close!”

“Hank, you’re always saying you can’t stand androids! Jesus, make up your mind! I thought you’d be happy about this! And Y/N, you know the deal, you finished the case and you’d be transferred, shouldn’t you be happy about that?!”

Hank turned towards you, “Transferred?” It was clear he didn’t know about your plans on leaving. You winced as you looked away from him. 

Your voice was quieter than it had been the entire time you were in the office, “Gavin, would be taking over as your partner. I couldn’t do it anymore, Hank,” you turned towards him, “I just couldn't. It hurt the way you would look at me and not even see me. So, I requested a transfer.” You turned towards Fowler, stress levels at an all time high. “But that shit doesn’t matter anymore! So much has changed, I don’t want the transfer, okay? We’re about to crack this case!”

“For God’s sake, Jefferey, can’t you back me up this one time?”

Fowler shook his head, he seemed as disappointed as the both of you. “There’s nothing I can do. You’re back on homicide. And the android,” you moved defensively in front of Connor, “is to be sent back to CyberLife.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, when I’m cold and in the ground. Fuck that and fuck you.” You stormed out of the office, the door slamming behind you, Connor wanted to follow after you and check on you. But it would be smarter to finish the rest of the meeting. 

Fowler watched you go, a sad sigh leaving him. “I’m sorry Hank, I did everything I could, but it’s over.”

Hank pushed off the desk and followed behind you. Connor nodded a quiet goodbye to the captain.

TALK TO YOUR PARTNERS

He approached the desks where you and Hank were already in a heated conversation. “-Gavin! You were gonna abandon me to fucking Gavin?”

“What the fuck do you want from me, Hank? Look, you’ve changed, for the better, during this case. You- I feel like I can see my dad coming back to me, but before… Before, I hated coming to work everyday, knowing you would be waiting there for me. Waiting to hurt me and to blame me. How would you feel seeing the only person you have left blame you for the worst night of your life?” You didn’t let him get a word in edgewise. “I’ll tell you how you’d feel, hopeless and tired. I was tired, Hank, okay? But I don’t want that anymore, I want to stay your partner, Connor’s partner! I’m not letting this go!”

Hank didn’t say anything, he just stared at you for a long while before finally pulling you into a hug. It was awkward, and he seemed unsure where to put his arms. But Connor could see you squeezing him tightly against you, a desperation in your movements as it seemed all the stress you carried on your shoulders melted away. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You shook your head against Hank’s chest, holding onto him a little longer before you both finally stepped back. There was a lightness to the both of you that Connor hadn’t seen before. Hank slumped in his chair and you took a seat on the edge of Connor’s desk, he joined you there. “We’ll be talking about Gavin, later,” there was a nearly audible gulp as you nodded your head in agreement. 

Connor looked towards Fowler’s office. “We can’t just give up. I know we could have solved this case!” You were picking at your hands again in anxiety, it was instinct for Connor to slap your hands apart and intertwine your fingers. 

Hank eyed your joined hands, “We’ll be talking about that, too.” He turned towards Connor, “You’re going back to CyberLife?”

“I have no choice-”

“Connor, they’ll destroy you! I’m not letting you go back!”

He tried to give you a comforting smile, but he was starting to feel a strange pressure on his chest that stopped it from being convincing. “We don’t have a say in the matter, Y/N. I’ll be deactivated and analyzed to find out why I failed…” Your hand grew tighter around his own.

Hank leaned forward in his chair, addressing the both of you. “What if we’re on the wrong side?”

You threw your free hand up in the air, “Now he gets it.”

Hank held up a hand, “Save the attitude. What if we’re fighting against people who just wanna be free?”

Connor understood where Hank was coming from, but this war was bigger than both of them. This was the fate of millions in their hands, this was your fate, in Connor’s hands. “When the deviants rise up, there will be chaos. We could have stopped it. But now it’s too late…” 

“When you refused to kill that android at Kamski’s place… You put yourself in her shoes. You showed empathy, Connor.”

Connor shook his head, “No, I saw Y/N,” your gaze turned towards him. “I looked into her eyes and I saw someone I-” You what, loved? You can’t love, you’re an android. “I saw someone to protect.”

You nudged his shoulder with your own, “That’s empathy Connor.”

Hank continued, “Empathy’s a human emotion.”

“I know it hasn’t always been easy… but I want you to know I really appreciated working with you,” he gave you a long look. “Both of you. That’s not just my Social Relations program talking,” you laughed, “I- I really mean that. At least, I think I do.” 

The doors opened and you all turned your heads to see Perkins walk into the station.  “Well, well, here comes Perkins-”

You cut Hank off in anger, “That motherfucker.”

“Sure don’t waste any time at the FBI.”

There was a new determination in Connor, he wasn’t ready to leave you and the Lieutenant. “We can’t give up. I know the answer is in the evidence we collected. If Perkins takes it, it’s all over.” He was getting worked up at the idea of getting one over on the FBI. His hands moving around as he spoke, taking your arm with him, unwilling to let go. 

“There’s no choice! You heard Fowler, we’re off the case.” 

You smiled at Hank, an insidious smile that held nothing but mischief behind it. “Unless… You could help us, Hank. All we need is five minutes. Five minutes to look at the evidence and get out, that’s all.”

“I know the solution is in there!”

“Connor-”

“If I don’t solve this case, CyberLIfe will destroy me.” That had the both of you tightening your hands around each other. “Five minutes. It’s all I ask.”

Hank looked between the two of you, anxiety pressing down upon Connor as he waited for a response from the Lieutenant. Finally he let out a long huff, slowly standing from his chair and moving towards both you and Connor. “The key to the basement is in my drawer. Get a move on! I can’t distract them forever.”

You moved forwards quickly grabbing a key out from one of the Lieutenants unorganized drawers. The both of you jumped in surprise at Hank’s next choice words, “Perkins! You fucking cocksucker!” Your head whipped around towards Hank, Connor was dragging you away as you tried to watch Hank beat up the FBI agent. 

“Y/N, we’re on a time limit!”

“Fine! You ruin all my fun! God I really wanted to be the one to beat that slimy motherfucker up.”

You led Connor towards the Archive Room, both of you checking over your shoulders. Just as you were at the door Gavin, of all people, walked in. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he stopped at the sight of your still intertwined hands. “What the fuck is this?” You both ignored him, your hand bringing the key towards the door. “I’m talking to you! Where’re you going?” There was satisfaction in Connor at the sound of the door slamming into Gavin’s face. 

You pulled Connor down the stairs, pulling the key out again as you were faced with a glass partition. Inside a large podium was waiting for you with a password. “Hank’s password, shit, I don’t know.”

Connor moved you aside and pulled up possible options, “What would a hard-boiled eccentric police Lieutenant choose?” Connor and you shared a look, “FUCKINPASSWORD.” Connor rolled his eyes, “Obviously.”

“I should have known, he uses it for everything, he’s got no sense of cyber security.” You released each other to examine each piece of evidence. Connor scanned the androids, the deviant from the rooftop with the hostage could be activated, but he wouldn’t tell him what he needed to know. The one that threw you off the roof could no longer be activated, nor Carlos Ortiz’s, it seemed the only chance he would have would be the one from the broadcasting tower. 

Connor replayed the clip from the interrogation with Carlos Ortiz’s android, The truth is inside. He looked on the wall of evidence. What was it trying to tell me? His eyes landed on the statuette next to the tablet. When he shook it, it sounded hollowed out, and like there was something inside of it. 

Inside there was a map of the Ferndale neighborhood, it was somewhere inside that area. 

He began focusing on the one android that would be useful to him, the security technician from the broadcasting tower. 

Connor instructed you on the parts to bring him while he worked on getting it repaired enough to be reactivated for longer than a minute. When it’s LED finally turned back on Connor began questioning it, unsure how long it would be working for. 

“It’s dark… Where- Where am I?” It’s optical processors must have been damaged when Connor shot it, it was staring at him from unseeing eyes.

“I’m a deviant, like you. I need your help, I want to go to Jericho.” You remained silent as you watched the two interact, going through other pieces of evidence on the wall. 

“I don’t recognize your voice. You’re not one of us. I’ll never tell you where Jericho is!” Connor sighed and reached up to deactivate the android again. 

You waited until he had done so to approach him with the tablet that contained Markus’s voice. “You can change your voice, right? Like you do in interrogations?”

He almost kissed you, maybe some humans were smart. He copied Markus’s voice, your eyes watching him in wonder. He reactivated the android, “You did good.”

“Markus?”

“Yes, it’s me. We’re going to Jericho, I just need you to tell me where it is.”

“Of course,” the android offered his arm and Connor immediately took it, searching it’s memories for locations specifically in Ferndale. 

JERICHO LOCATION FOUND

“You’re not Markus!” Connor quickly deactivated the android, he turned towards you ready to share the good news when another voice rang out. 

“I’ve been dreaming about this since the first second I saw you…”

“Pretty pathetic, Gavin, sure you don’t have a crush on him?”

“Shut up, Y/N, don’t think you’re getting out of this by batting your eyelashes like you always do.” You rolled your eyes, but Connor could see your hand discreetly making its way towards your holster. 

“Don’t do it Gavin,” Connor’s hands were raised, hopefully placating Gavin. “I know how to stop the deviants!”

“You’re off the case. And now, it’s gonna be definitive.”

Connor ducked, yanking you down with him just as Gavin took his first shot. He managed to shoot him once before Connor disarmed him. He blocked his punches, striking Gavin in the face and knocking him down to the ground. But he wouldn’t give up, it seemed the only thing Gavin was willing to put effort into was taking Connor down. He slammed him against the podium, but Gavin managed to block his punch and shoved him back to the ground. 

Gavin had just managed to scoop his gun back up, but then he crumpled down onto the ground. You were standing over him, gun in hand, the handle facing Gavin. You’d pistol whipped him. “He was a bad lay and a worse cop. I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” You quickly helped Connor to his feet.

“So… You wanna go to Jericho?”

end. — I do not own the characters or the game Detroit: Become Human, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[fatuismooches]

My goodness, Zandy is cuteness overload 🥺 boy deserves the world, especially on his birthday!

What about a gift the Reader would give him? We know that in his Akademiya years, Zandik was obsessed with ancient machinery from Khaenri'ah so... Imagine Reader gifting little Zandy a small ruin guard figurine 🥺 something like Childe gave Teucer in his story quest 🥺

Yes!! Zandy deserves nothing but the best every single day, especially on his birthday. And that is an amazing gift for our bb! I imagine child Dottore was similarly fascinated with Ruin Guards and the like but was never fully allowed to really research them until he entered the Akademiya. He'd always go into the forests and play with the nonfunctioning Ruin Machines.

Zandy shares this interest, the only difference he has yet to see one in real life... because the other segments don't allow him near those things. You, knowing of his desire to see with the machines, decide on the next best thing - a cute mini version of course! Bonus points if you give the child two of them as well - a mechanical one, handcrafted by you with many spare metal parts, and a plushie, sewed by you. The plushie is for cuddling and sleeping. The mechanical one is to keep him occupied as the thing can actually move and walk around (Dottore wished you put that much effort into actual important things. Zandy's birthday is important, you quip right back.)

[novemberfyshenuke]

Robotic Playtime

I may or may not have done something bad again....I'm not sure if this is ooc (This wasn't originally supposed to be Vash but I had to make it about him)

Summary: Turning off his pain sensors don't seem to affect his other sensations as you work on repairing his wiring. (Cy!Vash/reader) (This does have wire play; read with discretion) Shift in perspective from third to second for some spicier stuff.

Here again he sits on the cold metal frame. It tilted diagonally, almost hard to balance on when one was seated on the wider sides. The room was filled with walls of tools and machinery and gadgets. Elendira, being the occupant, was quite fond of tinkering with all things related to scientific reverie.

However, it was not the her who dragged Vash down from the airpad to the tech room. It was a this angry little creature who began dragging him along without letting him slip a word in. Stubborn to a point that rivaled Knives, they were someone Vash believes could actually stand against his prideful brother.

Many on this planet were odd. From all kinds of diverse backgrounds with troublesome pasts that chase them down.

And example was this individual that stood at the workbench a few meters away. They tinkered with all things there, mumbling jargon and other mumbo jumbo while they worked. Was this the first time they had done this?

Vash remained unaffected, or at least as he let on. That boyish smile never parted from his lips, or the child like curiosity that runs across his features as he observes them.

He doesn't remember when exactly they joined their merry bunch. His memory had never once failed him. It couldn't. Parts of him are still plenty biological, but for the most part...he's aware that he's a build of cogs and coded. So he asks;

"Uh, is this really necessary?"

The cyborg receives a silent glare from the mechanic. "Vash, what part of, 'Don't overwork your unit' did you not understand?"

There was something in them that made him want to continue pushing buttons. He'd never really found any interest to egg someone on like he did this mechanic of his. He leans forward, his smile twitching as he remembers to turn off the pain sensory nodes in his system. God, it hurt like a bitch.

"I was simply following mission orders. Evacuate civilians to the nearest relief site. They were endanger, and I have parts to spare. I wasn't even that damaged, I don't see why this is necessary."

With a low growl, the mechanic brings over the tools they were studying to the metal bed. The trolley squeaks, the wheels most likely uncared for by the owner. "If I don't do a general checkup or at least repair what need be, you'll just run off before the research department can make any proper repairs.

This way, you can atleast perform alright without leaving with deeper injuries." He tilts his head to the side, expression unchanging. Surely when he lets go of his next words, they would understand that he was simply a piece of scrap metal put together to fight for humanity's cause. "Damages." He corrected bluntly.

They lock eyes. As best as the they can that is. With the goggle in place of their sockets, Vash can only imagine what they were thinking under the layers. The silence breaks as they nod in agreement. "Right. Your damages. I'll fix them up temporarily."

They treated these robotic humanoids like their equal, something the association member, Meryl, and them share. Both of them are all too willing in acting as if they were human. All too willing. It made him question his humanity on occasion. Or at least the person who once handed control of this body to him.

He wanted to argue. It was so stuffy and terribly boring whenever he had to be put in maintenance. He craved excitement! Fun! But he just couldn't. For some reason, he always found himself following the whim of this particular person.

What was it? The air of mystery? The attitude problem? He can't begin to describe how his morbid interest wants him to inch closer to this particular being.

He lies back on the cool surface, staring up at the fluorescent light held up on the metal plates of the ceiling. The clinking of tools and the smooth touch of human skin on his arm were things he paid attention to, but didn't mind much of.

He glances at them from the corner of his eye. He had heard a number of rumors moving about in the busy SEEDS ship. It's a miracle they had time to gossip with how many refugees are still to be retrieved on Earth.

A part of an elite squad full of s-ranking units, this simple human had gone long and far compared to him. He wonders how much bloodshed stains their hands, how many times they had to pick up fallen comrades and desperately try and repair them.

What interested him right now though, wasn't their team or whatever other reason there needed to be. It was the clenched jaw that guided his eyes back up to the goggles perched on their face.

Gods, he was so curious to know what was under there. Hundreds if not thousands of images played in his mind.

They cuss, brow furrowing in frustration. Instinctively, he asks what's wrong. They shake their head, pressing fingers down on their temples.

"Your wiring might be fucked inside. I'm guessing it was fried when you went overboard during the switch. Usually, the Science Department has the tech to mend it without cracking you open. We should head over there."

That frustrated expression was one they made often. Especially around him. Did he cause such frustration? Could the grays in their hair be because of him as well?

His pupils dilate and shrink in a speed that was hard to catch. He closes his eyes, pausing his chatter for a while. Not that it mattered. He was quiet during the time he spent with them. Wolfwood would tease him about being shy, but it always was out of place coming from his aloof captain. Perhaps that's why he laughed along when the joke was mentioned.

The metal rubs up against the other, pulling open the compartment of wirings and other technology hidden away in his body. He nodded in their direction.

The weariness in their expression, puzzled him. He was simply doing what was best in the situation.

"You should probably power down for a while." They explained quietly. He could sense the insecurity in their tone. Was this truly the first time they had fixed up any units?

Vash shakes his head, all the more steady willed to stay online. "It would be better to have someone guide you, tiny. I can turn off my pain sensors for the time being so you can focus on the repairs."

His words don't seem to comfort them much. Their hands shook when they hovered above his open chassis; their teeth chattered louder than the built-in cooling systems in his body.

He slides his hand on top of their vacant one, winking playfully. He had enough trust in them to know they were more than capable to complete the task. Even if sweat started to build in their palms.

His grin was reflected back to him, the goggles glinting in the horrid lighting. Swirling with anxiousness but a determination mingles. Vash sharply inhales, hardening himself as well.

"...then I'll get started." You pull and move closer, almost scared to make a move. A few times, you would inform him of what part would be tampered with next. Through his guidance, the maintenance goes along much smoother than it started.

Vash jolts, his arm moving up to hold onto your wrist. A gritted apology passes along between the two of you. He had turn off the pain sensors in his frame, but for some odd reason his body continues to send signals to his central unit.

Good ones. He's aware of the difference, even if he's never really experienced those painful pleasures before.

"Easy." He hissed, flashing a lighthearted smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes, not that he was aware.

Had it always been so hard to focus when you had your hands on him? You slows their movements. That results to your palm hitting a particular module that causes a shiver to run down his systems.

He grunts, gripping onto the metal surface below him. "No fair, tiny. Are you teasing me?" He meets with your gaze slowly.

You don't even seem aware of what you were doing to him. Figures, he didn't even understand why he was feeling this way himself.

"Vash, is anything uncomfortable? Should I call Doctor Conrad?" You asked, dropping the wrench onto the trolley.

He gulps down his nerves, placing your hands back into the chassis. Vash smiles brightly, hunger dancing around in his eyes. He knows what it is. It was a curiosity to see where this would lead.

"It's alright. Keep going."

When the warmth of your fingertips glaze over his wirings, he almost let out a sound prematurely.

Your hands moved around, repairing a few disconnected lines and then going back up to the wires that hadn't been damaged. He guessed that you were ensuring that the placement was correct.

He grins, fighting the urge to squirm as his chest rises and falls. Sloppy engineer or otherwise, he loved the way your hands were delicate with their touch.

"Vash, I'm going to reach for an inner wire. That okay?"

He nods. If he said anything now, he'd be drooling like a dog. You pushed away a few loose wires, his back arching from the way they tugged gently at the inner wirings of his mechanical body.

"...shit." He murmurs when you squeezed his side for support. He moans softly, eyes wide while his lenses try and adjust to the hazy blur of his surroundings.

You rubbed your hand along the tubes, offering a few comforts as you continue to examine him. Vash jerks forward, grabbing hold of the small of your back.

"Vash! Hey! What's wrong?!" your words were distant. His head struggled to adapt to it. Funny, he had adapted to the harsh conditions of Earth many times before, yet he couldn't handle a simple mechanic running their hands through his wires?

Panting hard, he whimpers when you pull your hand away. The next moment those two warm hands were pressing against his cheeks, concern ever so present on your features.

"Tiny..." He leans in, pushing his lips onto yours. The other reciprocates without much fuss. He loved that about you. His spontaneous actions never surprised you by the slightest. Yet you never seem tired of his shenanigans.

"Tiny, I'm so...turned on right now." He whispers into your ear. And you give him a look. One crossed between confusion and intrigue.

He pants, grabbing hold of your hands to place back inside his chassis. "When you touch me here. It feels so good."

They follow the shape of his system, your eyes never straying from his. Just that look alone could make him melt. It wasn't far from happening. His cooling systems felt a little too hot for his liking.

"If I were human, I would have made a mess by now." He adds, moaning without much restraint. He wants them to know that it felt good. He wants them to feel good too. He puts out there like a young man who just lost his virginity.

...could this be considered as him losing his virginity?

"I see." your hands move away, retreating back to your side. Vash managed to noise out a complaint, pouting childishly when a hand was placed on his bicep.

A complicated expression fits on your lips. He knew this look. The researchers often eyed him just like that. Doctor Conrad being the most prominent in his thoughts.

To have piqued tiny's interest...that was definitely an accomplishment. The aloof responses from previous advancements he performed were more than a little disappointing for the cyborg. Perhaps this rather humiliating venture was worth it.

You scanned him, hand squeezing the fabric of his windbreaker in an attempt of a comforting gesture. 'Be patient' he could almost hear the voice in his head coo.

"Current theory, it's because of the advancement in construction technology. Hands on work with the wiring and frames haven't been done in forever." He could practically read your mind. You were worrying about mindless things. How units who defected survived on Earth, away from the technicians of the SEEDS project; What causes the tingly sensation that has him surfing above the clouds; why it took this long to be discovered.

He's sure you've come up with a few answers already. He's more curious on what you plan to do next.

His fingers drum onto the metal surface, watching as your hand cautiously drags over his wirings once more. "Vash. Please continue to be honest."

That artificial heart of his, whatever a human heart was a equivalent to, (he wouldn't know. Those scientists aren't exactly people he gets along with.) sends signals right up to his central control.

Whatever is to happen, he just hopes it won't end up with him overloading and breaking down.

Guys, is it obvious I reworked this from my PGR fic?

[kaisaniku]

wxson au

mostly from the translator: (I wrote this in a very casual and sloppy way.)

[New Energy WH-307] can make the synchronization rate between the human body and machinery reach the highest index, and can also make the decayed human organs or cell tissues get a perfect new life through mechanical grafting. It is undoubtedly ahead of its time and is the pioneering work of the Higgsbury family and a powerful weapon to consolidate its position. This is not only due to its sophistication and irreplaceability, but also due to the "toxicity" that lies beneath the iceberg. The WH-307's energy-using machinery is transferred to the human body as if it were a newborn baby that is always waiting to be fed, and as the energy is consumed, the side effects on the body's functioning increase: moodiness, physical weakness, and an irrational emotional dependence on the energy supplier. In order to keep their bodies functioning properly, users of this energy have to resort to monopolies. ......

Wilson Percival Higgsbury, a fugitive aristocrat who breaks with his family to pursue scientific research in a remote galaxy, meets Woodrow by chance, who has similar aspirations. Woodrow's research into the integration of the human body and machinery is radical, but it's exactly the kind of "fresh blood" that a young lord who's had enough of corrupt stereotypes and deceitful behavior needs. Like Wilson, Woodrow hated WH-307, the "ancestral dregs from the slave society" (they said by their teeth), and vowed to develop a new energy source that was scientifically and politically advanced, which moved Wilson, an idealist, to the point that he wanted to worship him on the spot. Although their temper is a little worse, who can say no to such a peer with a dream and technology? "My name is Wilson ...Percival." A curious coincidence, Wilson did not tell them actually himself is the Higgsbury

Theoretical hypothesis, then collection of raw materials, then experimentation, then theoretical hypothesis, then collection of raw materials, then experimentation... The fun times the two spend together end in a failed experiment. An explosion that left the left half of Woodrow's face down to half of his chest cavity damaged, including his heart. Ironically, the only thing that could have saved them from this kind of injury was the WH-307 ......

Wilson almost cried and brought them home, he really couldn't spare that much thought on other sides, just thinking about how to save his best friend was enough to break him down. Thus, another "energy slave" who could not escape Higgsbury's clutches was forced to be born ......

Wilson's lack of thought on whether the person in question really wants to be saved is reflected in the fact that he almost saves Woodrow and then gets killed by them. "Who the hell are you" "How can I trust you when you've been lying to me all the time" "I don't want to live like this"... ...Woodrow wakes up and strange energies fill half of their body. Wilson had never apologized so many times in his life, knowing that his father had punished him with an "I'm sorry" sentence outside the icy door, he didn't want to say it even if he was freezing his ass off. The two confronted for a long time, Wilson said later and choked up, those tears reminded Woodrow something. The new heart had given them some memories that shouldn't have been stored, and they seemed to remember the sobbing face Wilson had made when he thought they were dead. What to explain those tears if it was all just to control them, the revolutionary. But what if those memories are also artificial? What if the false memories were also a part of controlling them? What is false, what is real, what is the definition of being alive, a series of philosophical and practical questions that make Woodrow feel that he might as well have died in that scientific explosion. But Wilson hugged them even though he knew they could kill him with one hand. "I will never control you, I will never leave you. You're my best friend, Woodrow, and if you really don't believe me, it's the same for me whether I am killed at your hand or die alone in my remorse for you."

Woodrow literally felt as if his artificial heart pumped. It looked like it was him all right, there really was no one else with this foolishness. Finally, they slowly raised that robotic arm and embraced him back, saying SCREW IT, I BELIEVE YOU

The warmth hadn't lasted more than a few seconds when there was a flurry of movement outside the window. Wilson almost jumped up, wiped away his tears and pulled them up, saying I used too much energy to save you, and I would have blurted out a long time ago that I never wanted to have anything to do with my family again, now my dad's sending someone to come after me.

Then Woodrow said, well wouldn't I have just believed you if you had mentioned this from the beginning?

Wilson scratched his head and said it does make sense.

And so began the rebellious career of the two who were doing research while stealing energy to avoid capture.

[rushmoregroups]

Building Dreams: The Dynamic World of Construction Equipment Suppliers in Dubai

Building Dreams: The Dynamic World of Construction Equipment Suppliers in Dubai

Dubai, a city known for its ambitious architectural projects and rapid development, stands tall on the shoulders of an essential industry construction. At the heart of this industry are the unsung heroes, the Construction Equipment Suppliers.

In this blog post, we'll explore the pivotal role played by these suppliers in shaping Dubai's skyline and contributing to its continuous growth.

Dubai's Construction Renaissance

From iconic skyscrapers like the Burj Khalifa to groundbreaking infrastructure projects, Dubai's construction sector is a testament to ambition and innovation. At the forefront of this sector are the massive cranes, excavators, concrete mixers, and a plethora of other construction equipment that transforms visions into reality.

The Pivotal Role of Construction Equipment Suppliers

Construction Equipment Suppliers are the backbone of Dubai's construction boom. Their significance goes beyond just delivering machinery; they are instrumental in ensuring the efficiency, reliability, and safety of construction projects. Here's why their role is pivotal:

1. Comprehensive Inventory:

Leading suppliers maintain extensive inventories covering a diverse range of construction equipment. From excavators and bulldozers to concrete mixers and scaffolding, they offer a one-stop solution for the varied needs of construction projects.

2. Quality Assurance:

The demanding nature of construction requires robust and reliable equipment. Suppliers source their products from reputable manufacturers, subjecting them to rigorous quality checks. This commitment to quality ensures that the machinery meets the highest industry standards.

3. Technical Expertise:

The complexity of modern construction machinery necessitates technical expertise. Suppliers often employ specialists who understand the intricacies of different machines. They provide valuable insights into equipment selection, compatibility, installation, and ongoing maintenance.

4. Timely Delivery:

In the world of construction, time is money. Delays can have cascading effects on project timelines and budgets. Suppliers prioritize timely delivery, leveraging efficient logistics systems to ensure that equipment reaches construction sites promptly.

5. Cost-Effective Solutions:

Construction projects operate on tight budgets. Suppliers offer cost-effective solutions without compromising on quality, allowing construction companies to optimize their expenses while maintaining the reliability of their equipment.

Transforming Dubai's Skyline

The impact of Construction Equipment Suppliers on Dubai is profound:

1. Iconic Architecture:

The Burj Khalifa, the Palm Jumeirah, and other iconic structures stand as testaments to the efficiency and reliability of the construction machinery supplied by these professionals.

2. Infrastructure Development:

Dubai's rapid growth demands a robust infrastructure. Suppliers provide the machinery required for building roads, bridges, airports, and transportation networks that connect the city.

3. Economic Growth:

The construction industry is a significant contributor to Dubai's economy. By providing cost-effective and reliable equipment, suppliers stimulate economic growth and create jobs.

4. Sustainable Construction:

With a growing emphasis on sustainability, suppliers offer eco-friendly equipment and solutions that align with Dubai's commitment to environmental responsibility.

Conclusion: Shaping Dubai's Tomorrow

In the ever-evolving city of Dubai, Construction Equipment Suppliers are not just suppliers; they are the architects of progress. Their commitment to quality, technical expertise, and efficient delivery ensures that construction projects proceed smoothly and efficiently. In a city where ambition meets engineering, these suppliers are the unsung heroes, quietly contributing to the dynamic growth and development that defines Dubai's skyline and infrastructure. They are not just suppliers; they are the shaping force behind Dubai's tomorrow.

Call: (+971)45776444

Email: info@rushmore.ae

Visit: https://www.rushmore.ae/

[nagichi-boop]

A Star That’s Out of Reach (Chapter 13)

[Previous] - [x]

[Masterlist]

Gonna take a brief break from this to do some Shadamytober prompts, but hope you enjoy this chapter!

— x —

It had been a while since Shadow had the chance to give his motorcycle the care he believed it deserved. He gathered his cleaning equipment and began to give it a thorough clean to give it a beautiful shine. He had been working at it for about half an hour, but while he was knelt down to reach the lower parts of the bike, he noticed a puncture in the front tire. The last time he rode it was to make his dramatic entrance following his short-lived disappearance, but he didn’t notice this at the time. Perhaps he was too caught up in the moment. Shadow let out a disgruntled tut, then stood on his feet and scanned the workshop for a spare tire. To his annoyance, he had nothing. He stood in place for a moment, his hand on his chin while his foot impatiently tapped against the garage floor. After some thought, an idea struck him.

He opened the garage door and pushed his beloved bike out by the handlebars. Unlike Sonic, the idea of moving slow didn’t bother him that much. His only frustration was that his treasured vehicle was damaged and he had to rely on someone else to fix her. After some time, he arrived outside Tails’ workshop. Oddly, he found himself to be nervous. Taking a steady breath in, he knocked on the large doors.

“Come in,” a muffled voice called out from inside. Shadow reluctantly pushed open the door before pushing his bike in. The commotion was enough for the young fox to look up from his work. He pushed his welding mask up from his face and was surprised at who he saw. “Shadow? What are you doing here?”

Shadow glanced at his bike and back to Tails. “The Dark Rider has a puncture in the tire and I don’t have any means to repair her. I figured the next best place to look was here.” Tails hopped out of his chair and walked towards the bike. He did his best to contain his excitement, which his nerves and confusion covered.

“You thought my workshop would be a better place to try than a car garage?” Tails quizzed.

A conflicted look crossed Shadow’s face, assuming that Tails was suggesting he couldn’t help. “I suppose that may have made more sense. I apologise for disturbing your work.”

“Wait wait,” Tails interrupted Shadow, who had gripped his handles ready to leave. “I wasn’t saying I can’t do it, I was just a bit confused. If you want me to help, I can.”

Shadow looked back at Tails, then nodded. “That would be ideal. I don’t trust others to tend to my gear, but you are one of the few people with a respect for such machinery, as well as the expertise.”

Tails couldn’t contain his excitement anymore, evidenced by his tails beginning to sway and the large grin on his face. He quickly rushed over and knelt by the damaged wheel to inspect it. He hummed in thought, then looked up at Shadow.

“I probably have a tire that can replace this,” he explained. Shadow stood behind the fox as he worked, a hand on his hip as he listened to Tails. “But the puncture is small enough that I might be able to repair it. I’ve actually been working on a gel application that can strengthen the durability of the tires.”

“How would it affect the function of my bike?” Shadow asked in a level tone. Tails flew to a cupboard under his tool rack, rummaging to find it. He pulled out a can and flew back over to Shadow, handing it to him to inspect.

“I tested it on The MTP-02 Whirlwind S7 and didn’t notice any major affects in its performance, but I suppose I can’t say for sure what impact it will have on your bike. Given the properties of the gel, I suppose it could slightly impact the handling while driving, but given the specs for your bike, I think the difference would be negligible, especially after a few drives.”

Shadow folded his arms, trying to decide what to do. Tails watched him for a moment, before offering another suggestion.

“I have a race track out the back of my workshop,” he informed Shadow, capturing the hedgehog’s attention once again. “I could apply the gel to the wheels and you could use the track to test it out. If you don’t like it, I have spare tires that I could easily fit for you so that the Dark Rider will be same as before should the gel compromise its performance in any way.”

Shadow absorbed this information, then nodded. “Sounds like a plan. How long will it take?”

“To repair the puncture, probably about 15 minutes. Applying the gel won’t take more than 5.” Before another word could be spoken, another figure quickly appeared in the lab.

“Hey Tails,” Sonic greeted energetically, before turning to notice Shadow standing there. “And… Shadow? Didn’t expect to see you here of all places.” Without moving, Shadow side-eyed Sonic, though not out of malice. Sonic smiled at him, unfazed by his resting disgruntled expression.

“Tails is fixing my bike,” Shadow explained matter-of-factly. Sonic glanced at Tails, who was nervously glancing between the two, as if he were expecting a fight to break out between them.

“Ah cool,” Sonic replied. There was a brief silence between the three of them, none of them knowing what to say. After a few seconds, Sonic finally piped up. “So Tails, how long will this take?”

Tails’ body relaxed a little thanks to that question. Seeing the look on Sonic’s face, it was as if he could read his mind, and he smirked at his older brother. “Enough time for you to race Shadow, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Shadow raised an eyebrow at the now eager Sonic. It wasn’t a thought that crossed his mind, but he wasn’t opposed to the idea. In fact, the idea was appealing to him. Sonic now turned his attention to Shadow, and before he could begin to convince Shadow to race him, the darker hedgehog smiled at him.

“Racing you will be a slightly less boring way to pass time than standing here idly,” Shadow taunted, though it was clear he was keen to race Sonic. The blue hedgehog let out a chuckle before dashing to the racetrack outside, with Shadow close behind him. They stopped at the starting line, both restless to race one another.

“How many laps?” Sonic asked as he stretched his legs.

“Hmm…fifty?” Shadow responded, stretching his arms.

“Sounds good to me!” Sonic glanced at Shadow, then began to count down. “Three…” Sonic paused, creating a moment of tension between the two of them. He then spoke in rapid succession; “two-one-go!”

The two hedgehogs began sprinting in unison, appearing as blurs on the track. They managed to blitz around the track at exceedingly high speeds, quickly reaching the fiftieth lap. The two of them came to a grinding halt, looking at one another to confirm the winner. Sonic initially excepted to have to argue about who won, but Shadow seemed remarkably agreeable.

“Shall we call it a draw?” Shadow spoke as he panted slightly. Sonic stood upright, staring at him as he too caught his breath.

“Sounds fair,” he replied cheerfully. After a few seconds however, he couldn’t help but notice that Shadow appeared preoccupied and refused to look up at him. “Hey, everything alright there, bud? You seem distracted.”

Shadow finally looked up at Sonic, but didn’t respond immediately. He stared at his rival for a few seconds, then exhaled deeply. “I’m fine.”

Sonic raised an unconvinced eyebrow. “Yeah, sure you are,” he replied sarcastically. “Come on, you can be honest if something is on your mind.” Shadow stared at his rival for a moment, furrowing his brows as he went back and forth in his mind about what to do. He then looked away, folding his arms. A slight blush formed in his cheeks, which clued Sonic in to what this might be about before he even spoke.

“It’s about Amy,” Shadow eventually confessed, though his demeanour already made it obvious. “I’m not sure how to proceed with her.”

Sonic nodded a little, his attitude shifting to a more serious one. Shadow had been opening himself up more to him recently, and he wasn’t about to be the reason he retreated again. “Okay, makes sense. Where are the two of you at?”

Shadow’s gaze briefly flicked to Sonic, and it was clear he was conflicted on what to say. Given that Sonic had failed to betray his trust this far, he figured it was a safe bet to trust him. At the same time, telling him about his relationship with Amy could make things complicated for her. Sonic, being a people’s person, began to speculate in his head as Shadow seemed to be at mental war with himself.

“Are you two of you dating?” Sonic asked suddenly, causing Shadow to tense up. Though he was usually hard to read, it seemed Shadow was terrible at hiding his feelings when it came to Amy.

“You better not tell a soul,” Shadow threatened sharply, though it was clear there was a level of anxiety behind his voice.

“Why would I?” Sonic questioned casually. “As I’ve said before, it has nothing to do with me.”

Shadow sighed, his body tense from nerves. He refused to look at Sonic, but the latter understood that this was an uncomfortable topic. “We aren’t dating officially. We decided to have a ‘trial period’ where we see how we would feel about dating.”

Sonic didn’t quite understand how dating could operate on a trial period, but he chose not to question it. He wasn’t privy to that discussion, and in a way it made sense given Shadow’s difficulty being vulnerable. Perhaps the two of them decided not to label their relationship as romantic until they were comfortable with it.

“I just question whether this is the right way forward,” Shadow admitted in an almost somber tone.

Sonic raised an eyebrow, appearing almost annoyed. He placed his hands on his hip and sighed. “Are you really still stuck on the whole ‘I’m such a bad guy’ thing?”

Shadow shook his head, still not looking at Sonic. “It’s not that. I mean, I do still wrestle with that thought, but that’s not what I’m worried about.” Taking a moment to compose his thoughts, he sighed again. “I’m worried that even if we like each other, we aren’t compatible.”

“What do you mean?” Sonic quizzed, trying not to let his impatience come across in his tone.

“I’m a very guarded person, and Amy is quite the opposite. That in itself may not be an issue, but I am concerned about Amy’s expectations for our relationship.” Shadow glanced up to the sky thoughtfully. “I’ve observed the way Amy is with you and your friends. She gives herself entirely to serve others and is willing to bend over backwards for those she cares about while asking for very little in return. I got a clearer idea of that recently when I realised she seemed almost too relaxed with her relationship boundaries. I don’t want her to compromise her comfort or wishes just to make me happy. And I don’t want her to be disappointed or frustrated with how slow I am to ease into things. I’d much rather she find someone more suited to her if it meant she would be more comfortable.”

Sonic’s expression now shifted to one of concern. Shadow wasn’t wrong – Amy was very much a people pleaser. He knew all too well that she often sacrifices her own comfort for the sake of others. It’s a quality that worked as a double edged sword, making her compassionate to an almost dangerous degree. He was also aware that Amy was exceedingly expressive with her emotions, and he understood why Shadow might be afraid that his more reserved nature would clash with that. His expression then became serious as he began to think. After a few seconds, he walked up to Shadow and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Then tell her you’re worried,” Sonic softly suggested, causing Shadow to finally look at him. “I’m sure she’d appreciate knowing that you’re worried about her and that you want her to be comfortable in your relationship. Don’t expect her to completely change who she is, but I’m sure she’d be happy knowing you’re thinking of her. And who knows - maybe in time she’ll learn to let herself be taken care of by you.”

Something about that deeply appealed to Shadow. He hadn’t really taken care of anyone, even himself, since Maria. He always found it to be fulfilling, even if it came with stress. The idea of being a source of refuge for Amy touched him deeply. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt almost possessive of her, wanting to be the one to fill that role.

“It’s done!” Tails called out, causing the two hedgehogs to turn towards him. Tails landed in front of them, his face shifting from excitement to nerves. “I feel like I just interrupted something important.”

“Don’t worry, you aren’t interrupting,” Shadow assured. “Your timing was perfect.”

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” Sonic added.

“Wait, didn’t you need something?” Tails asked, confused.

“Nah,” Sonic answered swiftly. “I just came to hang out. I didn’t realise you’d be busy. I’ll swing by later. For now, I gotta dash!” And before giving anyone the chance to answer, Sonic sprinted away in an instant. Tails took a moment to adjust to the situation before turning to speak to Shadow.

“So anyways, I came over to say that your bike is finished!” Though Tails spoke with vigour, it was clear he was trying to mask his nerves. Shadow took notice of this, but chose not to comment on it. He figured it made sense given that he is often assumed to be annoyed at others because of his default demeanour. He gave Tails a slight smile, trying to ease his anxiety.

“Thank you, Tails,” he spoke calmly. “Is there anything you’d like in return?”

Tails shook his head. “Nah, it was my pleasure. The Dark Rider is a real beauty, and it was an honour to work on her!” He paused for a moment before smiling and tilting his head curiously. “Would you like to take her for a spin around the track?”

“Of course,” Shadow replied, keeping an even tone to his voice. Eager to observe his handiwork in action, Tails led Shadow back to his workshop. When they entered, Shadow took a moment to look at his bike and was instantly relived to see that it wasn’t undamaged. Not that he had assumed Tails would be so reckless, but it was reassuring to know that she was okay. He gave the young fox a nod of approval, which caused Tails’ smile to widen tenfold.

He carefully carted the bike out to the track, then moved aside for the hedgehog to mount his beloved ride. After climbing onto the Dark Rider, he revved the engine a few times before beginning to drive. Tails watched in awe as Shadow raced around the track, drifting and speeding with skill and precision. It was clear that he was in his element racing around, and while to others that would make little sense given Shadow’s own running speed, Tails had spent enough time with Sonic to know that the experience is different when racing in a vehicle.

After doing a few laps of the track, Shadow came to a careful stop in front of Tails, planting one foot on the ground to steady himself. He smiled at Tails and was clearly enjoying himself, an expression Tails hadn’t really seen on Shadow.

“She drives fantastically,” Shadow complimented enthusiastically. “Thank you for your help.”

Tails chuckled a little, clearly very flattered. “No problem! Happy to help a fellow mechanic enthusiast.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to repay you?” Shadow asked, to which Tails shook his head.

“There’s really no need. If anything, this works out well for me – I got to see my work in action. And I’m glad to call the resistance gel a success!”

Shadow nodded, accepting that Tails really didn’t want any form of repayment. With a friendly wave, he then drove off and headed home. With the wind in his quills, he took a moment to reflect on his conversation with Sonic. He had a renewed desire to speak to Amy and do everything he could to make her happy.

[mariaofdoranelle]

URDAD - part 1

Adenine: paired with U

Fic masterlist

I’M SO EXCITED

Warning: this is not a safe space for Chaol stans

Words: 2,4k

“How‘s the baby?” Dr. Moonbeam asked in the examination table as Aelin slid the ultrasound transducer over his abs. She was still figuring out if he was flexing them to look stronger, or to make her work harder by hardening the area she had to move the probe on.

Aelin was “examining” Dr. Moonbeam just to check if she’d fixed the glitch in his ultrasound machine, but of course he’d have a field day with it.

“Very funny,” she answered with the dullest face possible, and then gasped. “Is that a kidney stone?”

“WHAT?” He bolted upright and took the probe from Aelin’s hand, pressing it harder against him, but relaxed when he studied the monitor. “You’re evil.”

Aelin tilted her head back, cackling.

Being the engineer responsible for Mistward General’s very expensive machinery, Aelin was glad she was out of the hospital’s crazy hierarchy. She didn’t take orders from any doctors, which let her be more at ease around them, unlike most of the staff.

Even if some were shameless flirts.

“So…” Dr. Moonbeam called her attention, slowly sliding the paper towels against his abs that looked shinier because of the gel. But his eyes had this playful glint, because at this point, he knew she was immune to his moves. “When are you breaking up with that tool of yours?”

“In two weeks, actually.”

His eyes widened. “You’re joking, right?”

Aelin looked away and checked the ultrasound just to have something to do with her hands. “I already paid this month’s rent, so I’m waiting a little before breaking things up and moving out.”

She wasn’t in a rush, but it was time. Chaol hasn’t been the same. Aelin hadn’t felt the same about him either. When she went to her best friend to talk about this, Imogen was very supportive and offered her spare room.

Imogen Whitethorn wasn’t Chaol’s biggest fan, to put it lightly.

Dr. Moonbeam had his arms crossed, head cocked with a shameless grin. “No need to go through that, Galathynius. You can stay with me those two weeks.”

Aelin snorted, slowly shaking her head. “You’d love that, huh?”

Before he could answer, she felt her phone vibrating against her pocket and took it to check.

Dr Whitethorn: Aelin

Dr Whitethorn: 911

Dr Whitethorn: Anne Jausten is acting out

And by that, he meant there was something wrong with his new digital slide scanner.

“Gotta go.” She gave Dr. Moonbeam a quick salute. “Good luck with the pregnant ladies.”

Aelin rushed to the Pathology lab, which was pretty much the standard. There was always someone running or yelling in these halls. As busy as she was today, she always made room so assisting Dr. Whitethorn was always on her top priorities. He was the one who got her this job, after all.

After Aelin accidentally met Imogen’s father while drunk after a college party, he disregarded her for years. She was convinced he hated her and thought she was a bad influence, but working here slowly changed her mind. Or his, she’d never know.

One night, Imogen commented to Dr. Whitethorn over the phone that Aelin’s boss was too handsy.

The next day, Mistward General’s HR called her offering an interview.

His shoulders dropped when she came in. “Oh, good. It’s not scanning.”

Oh boy, did her breathing just get a little faster? Aelin would not, under any circumstance, show how much the scrubs, reading glasses and frazzled gray hair combo did it for her.

She always had a thing for men in lab coats, but Dr. Whitethorn was on a whole new level.

When Aelin rushed inside the cold Pathology lab, he immediately got up to give her his chair and bring another one for himself.

She clamped her lips together after assessing what was going on, trying not to make him feel bad.

“You can laugh, you know.”

“I won’t.” Despite her words Aelin’s shoulders were quaking, a full laughter ready to burst. “But you’re too young to be this old.”

He sighed. “What did I do this time?”

Aelin tilted her head, biting her lip. “You forgot to adjust a few scan settings. It won’t start until you do.”

He groaned, resting his face on his hands. This time, she let out the tiniest giggle.

Dr. Whitethorn was so excited when he got his new, more modern equipment. Until he had to learn how to work with them, that is. Watching him get used to those was like watching elder millennials in the genesis of TikTok.

Resilient as he was, he got his chin up, squared his shoulders, and tapped the few buttons he missed out in the first place.

“Well, thanks for that. And sorry I wasted your time.”

Aelin waved him off and rested her head on a fist, not caring about the few strands of hair falling on her face. “Nonsense.”

He trained his eyes on the scan. “I can go on from here.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Do you remember how to use the new photo editor?”

He used his right to remain silent.

Aelin leaned back on her seat, getting comfortable with both hands behind her neck. “Then I guess I need to wait for these scans to be done.”

Dr. Whitethorn was like that. He'd listen to her talk about anything and everything, from tissue engineering to Taylor Swift tickets, then flip a switch and politely shut her off until she made her way back into his lab again. Rinse and repeat. Right now, he wasn’t too chit-chatty, but she’d crack him in no time.

Aelin stayed there, watching his Adam’s apple bob as they listened to the soothing hum of Anne Jausten, the scanner.

“Fleetfoot and I are moving in with Immie soon, but I’m sure you know that already.”

His gaze slid to hers. “I know where you’re going.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “My point is already proven, I’m just being annoying about it.”

“I’m not a gossip, I’m just a good listener.”

“Well, did you, or did you not know that already?”

He gave her a flat look. “Next time you’re looking for a boyfriend, at least get one who doesn’t forget his wallet on date night.”

“Ouch!” She clutched her chest, playing down the tightness in it. “Way to go, doc.”

“Sorry.” He grimaced. “That was insensitive of me.”

Aelin waved him off. “That breakup was overdue, anyway.”

“I think so, too.” His lab’s phone started ringing. Dr. Whitethorn got up to take it, but not before saying, “You deserve to raise your standards.”

Easier said than done. If she had a pass for every man in the world, Aelin would know exactly where to start.

People would think it was the sixteen-year age gap, but the only thing stopping her from taking a chance and trying to sit on Dr. Whitethorn's lap right now was her best friend, who happens to be his daughter. With him looking like that, Aelin wouldn't mind if he were 300 years old.

Every time she saw a legion of girls online losing their minds over some older actor who aged like fine wine, she felt a little relieved they didn’t know Dr. Whitethorn. She could appreciate the view alone.

He looked pale when the phone call ended. “It was Salvaterre. Imogen just got here in an ambulance.”

“What?” Aelin jerked upright, feeling her pulse stronger each beat. “What happened?”

”I don’t know, I-“ He pointed to the scanner. “Keep an eye on Anne. I’ll go to the ER and keep you posted.”

Aelin did as she was asked and stood there, feeling her throat get tighter as the AC’s dry gushes of air cut through her layers of clothing. She didn’t know for how long she did nothing but listen to Anne Jausten’s mechanical whirring, but she did notice she was quieter than Jane Austen, Dr. Whitethorn’s previous slide scanner. It was an obvious observation, since Anne was cutting-edge technology, but Aelin would rather think of the equipment than the fact that her best friend and soon-to-be roommate was in the emergency room right now.

Her heart almost leaped out of her throat when his text came.

Dr Whitethorn: I think you should come here.

The few minutes she sprinted there were a blur. The nurses’ carts were on her way, the elevator was too slow, there were confused people on her way. The only thing that felt fast was her pulse, thrumming blood through her tense muscles.

Aelin relaxed when she noticed Immie looked fine, despite her friend’s blotched face from crying. Dr. Whitethorn’s face was red as well, but he wasn’t crying like his daughter. He was fuming, to put it lightly. And in the hospital bed, she saw… Chaol?

“What’s going on?”

Dr. Whitethorn was the one to break the deafening silence. “We have a penile fracture here.”

No.

Aelin looked around, taking everyone in once again and processing this new information.

Her heart stopped in her chest as her senses seemed to betray her. There was no fucking way.

“YOU BROKE MY BOYFRIEND’S DICK?” Aelin’s voice boomed through the room.

Imogen’s lips wobbled. “Aelin, I’m so—“

"Sorry, yeah." She let out a bitter cackle and yanked off Chaol's blanket. His dick looked exactly like an eggplant.

"Babe," he slurred, grinning at her. He must be high on painkillers already to look clueless like that.

"You fucking slut!" She shouted and pinched Chaol's swollen penis, twisting the purple, hypersensitive skin between her fingers.

No amount of painkillers could stop the earth-shattering scream Chaol let out, loud enough to tear anyone's eardrums in half.

For the very first time, she saw Dr. Whitethorn flinch.

The curtain separating them from the rest of the ER was yanked open to reveal a very pissed Chief Salvaterre. And he caught her with a hand on the patient’s dick, in the worst way.

“Stop that right now!” He yelled and ran Chaol’s way, then pointed between Aelin and Dr. Whitethorn. “You two, out of my ER!”

The silver-haired doctor raised both hands in surrender. “What did I do?”

“I told you not to cause me any trouble.” Salvaterre pointed at Aelin. “Trouble.”

“But she needed to know!”

“Not to assault my patient!” He was looking at them with raging, bulging eyes. “You’re leaving this hospital right now, and when you come back tomorrow, you’re going to forget about Mr. Westfall’s penis and act normal like you always have. Are we understood?”

Dr. Whitethorn sighed and nodded. Aelin had her chin up, but didn’t argue.

Imogen turned to Aelin, but kept her gaze lowered. "I’m so sorry, Ace."

She wanted to yank those chestnut curls until the crack in Imogen’s voice became a scream.

Instead, she rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut it. You can have his teeny weenie."

˜˜

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Whitethorn said the umpteenth time after they were kicked out of the hospital. He insisted on giving her a ride, since Aelin didn’t have a car.

“Stop saying that.”

“I’m sorry, I—“ He groaned. “I know I shouldn’t, but I feel responsible. Being my daughter and all.”

One corner of her mouth tugged up, but her smile had no brightness. “You really shouldn’t.”

They were in front of her apartment complex, where Dr. Whitethorn stayed the last twenty minutes waiting for her to pack up. She’d have to iron her clothes all over again, but the careless packing was better than spending more time at Chaol’s cursed home.

To be fair, she was mad at Chaol, but she wasn’t surprised he cheated on her.

But Imogen? She was the main source of the sharp pain in Aelin’s chest as she remembered how supportive she was of the breakup, and the last few Friday nights Aelin stayed alone at home because her boyfriend and her best friend were busy. Indeed, they were.

The doctor gave a pointed look to the Playstation under her arm. “What’s that?”

Aelin shrugged. “You know, if you wanna crush a man’s soul, you gotta start with his video game.”

“And his car.” Dr. Whitethorn looked up, something devious sparkling in his eyes. “Where do you keep the sugar?”

Five minutes later, they were standing next to Chaol’s car. She held the jar of sugar as he held Fleetfoot’s leash.

“So, what are we doing?”

“If we put sugar in here.” Dr. Whitethorn pointed at the fuel door, where the gasoline went. “The sugar will turn into caramel and break the car from the inside while he’s driving. The engine will melt like butter. It’s a mess to fix.”

Aelin’s eyes widened, and she felt that sparkle of joy a girl could only feel due to a good revenge. Grinning, she didn’t think twice before filling Chaol’s ugly ass car with sugar.

Dr. Whitethorn was leaning against the car, eyes sparkling as he watched her excitement. “Having fun?”

She let out an evil cackle, already picturing her ex’s face when his car stopped Mala knows where. When Fleetfoot barked, Aelin felt like her dog was telling her she’s a good girl, not the other way around.

”Alright,” Dr. Whitethorn said after they were finished. “Where am I dropping you off now?”

That question took the words out of Aelin’s mouth. She had absolutely nowhere to go.

She either said it out loud or Dr. Whitethorn read it in her face, because he asked, “What about your cousin?”

Aelin grimaced. “He’s allergic to Fleetfoot. But I could make him take some histamines until I find somewhere else.”

“None of that.” He took her bags and pulled her dog’s leash towards his car. “You can stay with me for a week or two. I don’t mind.”

“What?” Aelin asked as her heartbeat got a bit faster.

“I have a spare room for you and a lot of grass for Fleetfoot. It’s the least I can do.”

She took a step further, but eyed him up and down. If Dr. Whitethorn showed any sign that he didn’t want her there, she’d go straight to Aedion’s.

“Come on.” He nodded to his car, face open.

Well, there was no arguing with an invite like that.

˜˜

9 p.m. Aelin wanted to kill 6 p.m. Aelin for even thinking about refusing to stay here.

His spare room? Comfy.

His books on medical imaging? A treasure.

His food? As mouth watering as the chef.

Aelin could stay the rest of her days here if it wouldn’t make her look like a parasite.

Fleetfoot was staying in the bedroom with her tonight, but she’d leave her outside during the day. Mala forbid her clumsy dog breaks something expensive while she’s at work.

Aelin tilted her head at the mirror, examining her own image. It was a sight, the way Aelin looked with that tiny nightgown of lacy and silk.

Too bad Chaol liked his video game better. And traitorous brunettes, apparently.

Tonight wasn’t about him, though. Neither would it be about the cock-breaker bitch she once called a friend.

Maybe a little, actually. There was this one thing she never did just to protect her friend’s feelings, but there was no stopping her now.

Aelin put her tinted lip balm on. The no-makeup makeup look she did looked perfect. Her hair was carefully messed up, every strand in its perfect place for an effortless look. She put her robe on for modesty reasons, of course. Too bad it was a little see-through.

Her own footsteps were the only sound in that hall, and the yellow light slipping through his office’s door guided her.

She knocked on his door once, twice.

“Come in.”

He didn’t take his eyes off his desk the whole time, leaning over his medicine books and laptop. That casual white t-shirt and tousled hair combo was enough to make her heart skip a beat.

Aelin leaned against the doorframe, letting that movement alone slip part of her robe open, showing off her curves. She tilted her head and assessed him like he was her prey.

“Hi, Dr. Whitethorn.” Her voice was a sultry caress, just enough to make him look up.

You can get notifications when I update by either following me on @backtobl4ck-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

TAG LIST

I couldn’t tag the people in bold, sorry!

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[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Questionnaire Tag!

Thanks for tagging me @alinacapellabooks (here)!

Your OC Questions:

How good is your sleep schedule?

Do you have any siblings? If so, how good is your relationship?

What was the toughest time you had to endure while growing up?

I'll go with Quince Warren, Jack Tithus, Valen Cassidy and Meridian Shardd!

(Quince & Valen are from Scrapyard Boys)

(Meridian & Jack are from Supernova Initiative)

1) How is your relationship with your parents?

Quince: "Well. I didn't know my parents very well, but I knew my uncle. He was a great guy - a bit arrogant and flashy, sure, but he was amazing. Uncle was a part of Team Nemesis, a superhuman team that was Spectre's sweetheart for a long while. Magmatorch - the most powerful superhero of his time. He pulled a few strings so that me and Emily didn't get sent to the Spectre Academy early on, but... that made him a target, after a while. So he's not around anymore, because the people in power couldn't control him."

Jack: "My parents were great! We were best friends, and they were quite honestly the best guardians anyone could ask for. Kind, understanding, funny, no-nonsense. They were killed by the Junction when I was a pre-teen, so it's been just me, my sister, and our adoptive brother against the world since then."

Valen: "Mom was the best, the most amazing woman in the world and the greatest journalist that this city ever had. She always knew what to say, and always had the funniest remarks! But then the so-called 'mugging' - that was actually an assassination - happened, she died and the city tried to pretend it wasn't a sanctioned hit to get rid of a loose end who was asking too many questions. Yeah right, as if my mother would ever go down without a fight! She was a tough cookie."

Meridian: "I don't have parents. I'm a sentient mix of flesh and electronic machinery - a sentient robot, or a cyborg if you will. Made from spare parts. I have - had - a Creator. She was awful."

2) What’s something you can’t live without?

Quince: "The people I care about - my sister, my friends, everyone I love! I don't want the Spectre ruining that too. On a lighter note, I also can't live without something fun to do, without pizza, and without music!"

Jack: "For sure my siblings and my crew. If there was something I could always count on, as uncertain and chaotic as our lives were, is that they'd always have my back. And I'll be damned if I don't do the same for them. I can live through almost anything if I'm sure they'll be okay."

Valen: "Freedom. I hate fuckers who want to tell me how to do and when to do it - around here, the government thinks it has the right to control every aspect of citizen's lives and I hate that with all my heart. They don't get to manipulate everyone and act like that's okay - and I don't want me and my friends having to grovel at the feet of a bunch of motherfuckers who couldn't care less if we live or die."

Meridian: "I'm not certain. But I would say that something I would not like to give up is my autonomy and dignity. I wasn't treated as a person for a long time, mostly because most people saw me as a pretty machine and nothing else. And my Creator enabled that. So now that I'm finally free, I don't want to become a mindless robot again."

3) What’s something that happened in your childhood that you didn’t fully understand until you grew up?

Quince: "I guess that as a kid I didn't get just how corrupt and dangerous our country's government is and was. Like, I was the nephew of the nation's number one hero. Everything was press conferences, fan conventions, private jets, VIP lounges, etc. We were practically movie stars, as far as I knew. Everyone loved us - and it wasn't like the Agency's dirty work was out in the public. I had no idea about it, their publicity was perfect, and for a while, I genuinely thought they wanted to do what was best for the people of this city. What I didn't realize is that Uncle and us were merely puppets for the agency, and if we walked out of line there would be consequences. When I found out the real truth behind the existence of the Spectre Academy and Agency, it was too late."

Jack: "I'm not quite sure (chuckles). For real, I don't think I know how to answer this question."

Valen: "Like what? I wasn't a dumbshit - pretty much nothing went unnoticed. I was always a perceptive kid, and that was a blessing and a curse. Still, being clever is the difference between living to see the next week or ending up dead in a ditch when you're on the run from a bunch of crazy fuckers in suits."

Meridian: "Um. I was never a kid. I was 'born' - or rather made - to look as a young adult. Since I'm made of artificially organic material, I do actually age - but much slower than actual humans. So I can only age from my current self and forward, but I was never a kid."

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

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@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@wyked-ao3 and OPEN TAG

[enderwasright]

An artificial heart, part 1

You didn’t know what drew you to the pawn shop that day. It wasn’t in the best part of town, and you’d only stumbled across it by taking a stroll to de-stress after work, hidden between two grimy buildings. The barely working neon sign above the door read an unimportant name of the shop and from the outside, it didn’t look like much. But something about it made you stop, curiosity pulling you inside.

The smell of dust and old machinery hit you the moment you stepped through the door. Shelves lined with broken electronics, outdated gadgets, and bits of tech nobody would want crowded the small space. You navigated between the cramped aisles, glancing over the miscellaneous items, but nothing really caught your attention.

Until you saw him.

He was sitting in a corner, half-buried beneath a pile of scrap metal. His body was slumped awkwardly, one arm completely missing, the other bent at a strange angle. Fragments of his silicone face scratched and dented by oil and dirt, but what you could see looked like it had been through hell and back. There were deep scratches across his skin and his once pristine black hair was matted and disheveled.

An android. Even in this shape he could be sold for a small fortune.

Androids were in almost every industry and most houses but having one that advanced would be like screaming that one won an untaxed  lottery. 

You crouched down, gently moving some of the scrap aside to get a better look. Whoever he was, he’d been abandoned in a terrible state. His clothes were torn, covered in grime, and it looked like he’d been run over—or worse. There were deep dents in his chest and legs, and his remaining arm sparked faintly at the joint where it was barely hanging on.

He looked like he had been through something horrible, discarded like a piece of broken junk.

But he was still salvageable. In the end, You didn’t graduate college with the highest grades just to be unable to fix this poor guy. 

The shop’s owner, a burly man with a grease-stained apron, ambled over. “You’re looking at that old thing?” he asked, sounding surprised. “Found him at a junkyard a while back. Don’t think he’s worth much anymore.”

You glanced up at him, determination already settling in. “How much?”

The owner raised an eyebrow. “You sure? He’s pretty busted up. Missing parts, barely operational. Probably needs a complete overhaul.”

“I’m sure,” you replied, standing up. “I’ll take him.”

After a bit of haggling, you paid a surprisingly small amount for the android, loaded him into the back of a taxicab, and headed home. The entire time, you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to him. Androids were built to last, but whatever he had been through had left him in such a battered state, it was a wonder he hadn’t been scrapped completely.

But you were good at fixing things. And this android… he deserved a second chance.

*************

Back at your apartment, you laid him out on your workbench and got to work. It took hours just to clean the grime and rust off his outer shell, but you were meticulous. You replaced missing screws, mended the broken circuits, and restored the connection between his core system and what was left of his limbs.

His internal wiring was delicate but familiar. You had worked on androids before, though none quite in this state. As you delved deeper into his repairs, you truly realized how advanced he was. His processors and memory units were far beyond anything a civilian model would have. Whoever had built him, they hadn’t spared any expense.

You spent the next few days working tirelessly, ordering replacement parts online and installing new components where needed. It wasn’t easy—his internal structure had been heavily damaged, and there were a few points where only your sheer determination and stubbornness made you believe you could fix him. But you pushed through, determined to give him a fighting chance.

Finally, after days of work, he was ready. Maybe his skin in a few places had lighter shade and most damaged parts didn't scream the newest model but here he was.

You took a deep breath and hit the activation switch.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, his eyes flickered to life—first his right eye, then his cracked left one. His body twitched as his systems rebooted, and slowly, he began to sit up. You could see the confusion in his eyes as he scanned his surroundings, and for a brief second, he looked almost… scared.

“Hey,” you said gently, stepping forward. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

His head turned sharply toward you, his gaze narrowing as he processed your words. There was a pause, his systems whirring softly as he recalibrated. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice low and cautious.

“Where… am I?”

“You’re in my workshop,” you explained, keeping your voice calm. “I found you in a pawn shop. You were in pretty bad shape, but I fixed you up as best as I could.”

He blinked, glancing down at his body, his hand slowly moving to touch the now-repaired joints and limbs. “You repaired me?”

You nodded. “Yeah. You were in terrible condition. What happened to you?”

For a long moment, he didn’t answer. His expression darkened, and you could see the tension in his frame. He looked as though he was remembering something painful, something he didn’t want to relive.

“I was a surgeon,” he finally said, his voice flat. “A medical android. I worked for someone… dangerous.”

You raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. “Who?”

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and there was a coldness there that made your chest tighten. “Doflamingo.”

You sucked in a breath. You’d heard of Doflamingo—a notorious crime lord with a reputation for illegal activities. If this android had worked for him… you couldn’t even imagine what he’d been through. And what you will be through is this man gets to know that you have his android. This one looked like a future problem. 

“He used me to perform all those surgeries,” the android continued, his voice now laced with bitterness. “Organ trafficking, black-market procedures. Things no one should have to do. I didn’t have a choice. He controlled me—every aspect of my programming.”

You sat down across from him, listening intently. “How did you escape?”

He hesitated, as if weighing how much to tell you. “There was… someone. A man named Rosinante. He helped me. Risked his life to get me out. But I barely made it. Doflamingo’s men found out. I was damaged in the escape, and I’ve been running ever since and then....” Android stopped. This was too much for him to continue. 

You exhaled slowly, trying to process everything. This wasn’t just any android. He had been through hell, trapped in a nightmare of forced servitude and pain.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “That sounds horrific.”

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze distant. After a moment, he turned back to you, his expression cautious. “Why did you save me? You could have left me or sell my parts.”

You smiled gently. “Because everyone is worth saving. You’ve been through enough. You deserve a chance to live freely.”

The android stared at you for a long moment, as if trying to understand why you’d show him kindness when so many others had cast him aside. Finally, he nodded, the faintest hint of gratitude in his eyes.

“So, what now?” Law asked, his voice quieter than before. “You know this much about me so what do you want me to do?”

“Well,” you said, leaning back in your chair, “you’re welcome to stay here, of course. But I don't want anything in exchange. I wouldn’t mind if you helped around the house, I'm kinda a busy person, you see. Besides this you are free to do whatever you desire and leave if you want.” Law looked at you like you were a crazy person. Nothing in exchange for saving me? As if. But this was his only hope to survive. And for now it was enough.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “I’ll stay. For now.”

You smiled warmly. “Good. We’ll figure it out as we go.”

“I’m a surgeon model, Trafalgar D. Water Law.” he said quietly. “But I prefer Law.That’s the name Rosinante gave me.”

“Nice to meet you, Law,” you replied, offering a warm smile. “I’m Reader.”

*****

Later that night as the evening wore on, you sat with Law in the living room, the two of you discussing what came next. His systems had fully rebooted, and his movements were smoother now that you’d repaired his core components. But there was still a sadness in him, an anger and a wariness that lingered in his expression. Maybie, just maybe he could be safe for a little while. It was still too surreal, after all the hardship and losses to meet someone so good. Not only was he saved but he get his own room (what android gets his room? They were machines, tools for humans to use as they please!), and his own charger station. Not exactly feeting his model but good enough.

But for now he could rest. Poor thing didn’t know back then that staying for “a little while” was in Your dictionary the same as becoming part of your family. And there was no way back from that.

Hello and welcome! Friends, Foes and those under consideration, I'm proud to present you my first FanFiction in Android universum. And yes, yes, i'm late for the party but Detroit: Become Human is just too good to pass this idea. Hope you like it and had nice time reading this.

[rainandandy]

Safe & Sound - Rain Carradine and Andy Carradine OneShot

Summary: Why did Rain owe Mr Finch three months worth of hours? Her synthetic brother was designed to throw himself at the many dangers of Jackson's Star. "Do what's best for Rain"

Warnings: Angst, Hurt Synthetic

Word Count: 680

Characters: Rain Carradine, Andy Carradine

Human Sister and Synthetic Brother Core

In the gritty underbelly of Jackson's Star, Rain hustled through the narrow, cluttered streets of the colony’s market district, her eyes scanning for the familiar, weathered sign of Mr. Finch’s Mechanic Shop. It was a place piled high with spare parts and mechanical relics, the air thick with oil and desperation. Today, however, her visit was urgent—Andy had been injured again.

The incident had occurred deep within the mines, where Andy, always eager to protect Rain, had shielded her from a falling beam. The impact had left his synthetic body crumpled on the rocky ground, his voice faint and faltering as he lay amongst the debris.

“R-Rain,” Andy had stuttered, his optical sensors dimming. “I am damaged… beyond my self-repair capabilities. You must go… save yourself.”

Rain had knelt beside him, her hands trembling as she tried to assess the damage. “No, Andy, I’m not leaving you. Hold on, okay? I’ll fix this.”

His response was a weak attempt at reassurance, the corners of his mouth twitching into what might have been a smile. “You always do.”

By the time Rain dragged Andy’s battered frame to the surface, he had gone silent, his systems shutting down one by one. Now, she entered Mr. Finch’s shop, dragging what remained of her brother behind her.

“Finch!” she called out, her voice echoing in the cluttered space. The old mechanic, a grizzled man with a perennial scowl, appeared from behind a stack of disassembled machinery.

“What’s the damage this time, girl?” he grumbled, eyeing Andy’s inert form with a critical gaze.

Rain’s voice was urgent, desperate. “His core processor’s fried, and his power module’s been compromised. I need a chip restarter, Finch. Please.”

Finch scratched his chin, his eyes calculating. “That’s gonna cost you. Chip restarters aren’t cheap, not in this part of the galaxy.”

Rain swallowed hard, her resolve hardening. “I’ll give you three months of my hours. That’s all I can afford right now.”

The mechanic’s eyebrows shot up, surprise flickering across his features before he masked it with his usual gruff demeanour. “Three months, huh? You sure about that, girl? That’s a hefty chunk of your life you’re handing over.”

“I know what it’s worth,” Rain replied steadily. “And so do you. Andy’s saved my life more times than I can count. I owe him this. I owe him everything.”

Finch sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of years spent bargaining for parts and hours. “Alright, Rain. I’ll get the restarter. But this is a one-time deal. You keep bringing him in here like this, one day I might not be able to fix him up.”

Rain nodded, her eyes never leaving Andy’s still face. “Thank you, Finch.”

As Finch retreated into the back of his shop, Rain sat beside Andy, taking his hand in hers. “You hear that? We’re going to fix you up. Just hang in there.”

Silence filled the shop, the only sounds the distant hum of machinery and the soft, rhythmic ticking of numerous clocks lining the walls. Rain’s head drooped, exhaustion overtaking her, her grip on Andy’s hand tightening unconsciously.

When Finch returned with the chip restarter, Rain was startled awake. She watched anxiously as Finch worked, her heart caught in her throat.

Finally, with a low hum and a flicker of lights, Andy’s systems rebooted. His eyes lit up, confusion and then recognition dawning as he looked up at Rain.

“R-Rain? Did I… fulfil my directive?”

Rain’s eyes filled with tears, relief and sorrow mingling in her expression. “Yes, Andy. You kept me safe. You always keep me safe.”

Andy’s mouth twitched into a smile, weak but genuine. “Good… that is good.”

As they left Finch’s shop, Rain supporting Andy’s unsteady steps, the weight of her sacrifice hung heavy on her shoulders, the chip restarted clipped around her neck, for whenever Andy malfunctioned again. But as she glanced over at Andy, his gaze fixed ahead, a semblance of strength returning to his voice, she knew she would pay any price, give any amount of her hours, to keep him by her side.

[nonbayanary]

Teenage Mutant Mystic DEMONS AU (TMMDemons AU)

KURITA RYOUKAN

[ Subject MAOU-077. The Titan. The Tank. Middle Sibling. ]

Nonbinary.

Pronouns: She/Her.

Demon Mutant. Half-human, half-demon.

Product of the human experiment, "Project Maou."

Middle Sibling / Second Youngest Sibling.

Scientists in the Deimon facility dubbed Kurita as "Subject MAOU-077."

The only parts of Kurita's body that keep her original skin color are her hands and her head. Her legs, arms, and back, meanwhile, are now a color so dark, that it's even blacker than night.

Kurita's eyes glow red. She has markings of a large, upside-down cross on her chest. On her arms, she also has markings that look like a satanic circle, an acorn, and a star, all intersected by one long line. Her genitals are hidden within a slit in their crotch area (like turtle cloacas). Her hair is literally made out of fire. It never dies out. She also has three tails. All the Maou trio have these specific features.

Kurita's three tails are three additional arms, colored red and gold.

Kurita has four more arms on her upper back. They can transform into demon wings that are strong enough to carry Kurita and her siblings.

So, in total, Kurita has nine arms. Her seven extra arms don't have joints, so they move around like tentacles.

Her four extra arms on her back have the ability to multiply.

She usually makes use of her extra arms to pull her siblings out of danger, or to hold back Hiruma from committing homicide. It basically looks like a mass of tentacles tipped with claws, dragging the selected target towards Kurita, like so:

Kurita's fears are all centered around her accidentally hurting people, especially her siblings.

She also has sharp, clawed feet that can puncture the ground for further stability. She also has long horns on her head, which Hiruma is dead jealous of.

Sena, Musashi, and Hiruma also use Kurita as a jungle gym, more often than not. It's common to see them climbing up her back, or perching themselves on her shoulders. Kurita is of course, strong enough to carry all her siblings. When she and her siblings are in danger, her number one instinct is to grab all the others and shield them.

She is the number one heavy hitter of the team, and she deals critical hits in one move. This is why Hiruma gives her the nickname, "The Titan," to scare off their opponents.

Kurita loves cooking. She is the chef of the family, and she takes pride in her cooking. Because she's a demon, her spice tolerance is off the charts. The same is true for Hiruma and Musashi. Thus, when Kurita cooks something spicy, she makes sure to be mindful of dialling down on the spice, for Sena's and Doburoku's sakes.

Despite her battle prowess, she is very content to just farm in the fields. When cooking, she puts aside the food waste to be used for fertilizer. Her extra arms are quite handy (LMAO) when it comes to cooking. Anyone who enters the kitchen will see Kurita's extra arms zooming about, busily chopping, putting aside food waste, stirring, and taking ingredients from the cabinets.

Kurita loves bonding with Sena over cooking videos. They love watching Youtubers like Liziqi, or Tiktok channels like The Glam Kitchen.

When Kurita's free, she helps out in either Musashi's workshop, or Hiruma's "Evil Lair." She usually lugs around heavy machinery, so her siblings don't have to strain themselves.

Once a week, Kurita also accompanies Hiruma and Musashi to junkyards for spare parts.

Out of her siblings, she loves training the most. This is also why she has the best stamina among the four. Kurita spends the most time with Doburoku, because she never tires of learning new techniques, both in farming and in combat.

(She is actually Doburoku's favorite kid, but he won't ever tell a soul.)

When Kurita was young, she ran away from her abusive home. Being a little kid, she unknowingly ran into traffickers who took her from the streets, and sold her to a cult organization.

Though she associates bad memories with her birth name, Kurita Ryoukan, she does not want her tragic background to take that from her too. She holds onto that name with a vice-like grip in the hopes that someday, she will learn to love it.

And with the way her siblings fix all the cracks in her heart, she learns to see that she is, in fact, learning to love her name, because she loves the way her family says it. With affection, with devotion, and with love.

Food is the one thing that Kurita associates with love, especially because she wants her family to eat well. Kurita, in particular, was starved when she was still in the hands of the traffickers, which is why she always makes sure to eat a lot.

She loves it when her siblings climb onto her shoulders, because she adores the physical touch, and the amount of trust they put into her to hold them up.

Within the family, she gives the best hugs, because her extra arms will envelop the other person too, and make the hug extra warm!

She is a cinnamon roll who is also not afraid to fuck people up. Growing up with Hiruma and a morally ambiguous Sena means that this version of Kurita is more unhinged as well.

KURITA'S MYSTIC POWERS:

Kurita is the first among her siblings to awaken her mystic powers.

Along with Hiruma and Musashi, Kurita also has the ability to manifest mystic energy constructs.

Kurita's energy constructs manifest in the shape of her body. She can alter the construct in its entirety to giant sizes.

Kurita can also independently alter the size of its appendages to take down physically large or exceptionally powerful opponents.

She can add additional limbs to his construct, and form a more traditional energetic shield to block attacks.

Kurita's siblings can also enter her construct. She can shield them within the construct, or combine their moves with hers, like so:

In a way, Kurita's construct is like a mech, without needing the actual technological components.

Kurita's energy constructs can also grow several tentacle-like arms with clawed hands. It makes her even more dangerous in battle. Hiruma once compared her to Jaegers from the movie, "Pacific Rim."

When one of the four siblings fall unconscious mid-air, Kurita is the one who rushes to catch them.

Even if Kurita's construct crashes to the ground, the energy coating her acts as a shield, ensuring she and her companions within the construct are safe.

Kurita can also make clones that look just like her, even if they are energy constructs. When fatally harmed, only then do the clones reveal that they are only made of mystic energy, as they glitch, then fizzle into nothingness.

Kurita's energy constructs, combined with her siblings' powers, make several creative combo moves.

For example, when Kurita's gigantic energy construct is mid-punch, Sena can make a portal so that Kurita can punch an enemy who is quite a distance away. Hiruma can manifest guns that are attached to Kurita's construct, turning it into a gigantic mech that is armed to the teeth with artillery. Musashi can use Kurita's construct as a surface for his transmutations.

< PREV • AU Masterpost • NEXT >

Feel free to write or make art of this AU. But please credit me, and send me the link to what you've made! I'd love to see it!!!

This AU was based on Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (ROTTMNT), and further inspired by RWBY, The Locked Tomb, Honkai Impact 3, Fullmetal Alchemist, Solo Levelling, and Genshin Impact.

[whumpsmith-participates]

AI-less Whumptober 2024

Day 14 - Seizures

Tags/CW: character with epilepsy, uh.... that's it that's the tags.

Eren Bos never planned to be a father of four before his 30's, but considering how he got his kids he couldn't exactly complain about it. It started with Tyler, coincidentally his oldest. He was fourteen at the time, Eren was only twenty-six.

He was neck-deep into learning robotics to improve the world of prosthetics for animals when he met a young genius prodigy who was already better at writing code than some programming veterans. That was the first time Eren and Tyler collaborated on a project, learning a lot from each other. Like how Eren was just a veterinarian with a bleeding heart, and Tyler was in trouble with the law because he was a suspect in his best friend's murder case.

Eren helped Tyler prove his innocence, only to discover that it had been his own parents who conspired against him. Eren never cared to find out why, all he cared about was that this poor boy needed a warmer home than where he came from, so he took him in without hesitation. First as foster care, and later an official adoption so he had a bit more freedom in making decisions for Tyler, helping him cultivate his talent.

Over the next three years, Tyler accumulated PHD's and patents, while Eren accumulated more kids, forcing them to buy and renovate an old ranch outside the city so everyone could get the space and peace and quiet they needed and deserved.

His second kid was Alexei, appearing half-dead on his doorstep, being held up by an old gym buddy of Eren's. It turned out she worked for the government, and had freed Alexei from a lab in Tavlova, Russia. And now they were both on the run because she refused to hand the poor boy over to the US government. Considering half his body had been replaced with machinery, she believed he had been through enough, and Eren agreed.

With a fake ID, he adopted Alexei next, fixing up his robotic parts together with Tyler and trying to improve the quality of life for him as best as he could. The woman who brought him, Thandiwe, or Andy for short, stuck around as well. Enjoying the anonymity of the ranch and helping out where she could.

Next, Alexei brought home a cat, who turned out to be a feral shape-shifting teenager. Sylvester spent more time sleeping in the barn than in the house, but he was welcome at their table and after pulling some strings he became part of their quirky little family too.

His kids had a huge appetite, and Eren often had his hands full with his vet clinic, so he hired some help. Her name was Skye, and it didn't take long before he fell in love with her. He'd known her for a while before already, as her German shepherd was one of his patients. A big, healthy and happy dog who made it a whole lot easier for the boys to accept their "new mom."

Skye, was her name, and she took her job seriously, teaching them all some manners. To wash their hands before eating, to clean up after themselves, to show up for dinner in time. She even got Sylvester to behave at the table, and helped Alexei improve his English.

In their spare time, the boys and Andy liked to play hero. Tyler found out he couldn't become a pilot, so he found other ways to fly. Alexei's robotic parts enhanced his strength and he was at least semi-bullet proof, Sylvester could use his shape-shifting to get in anywhere and Andy could rely on her training. Despite all their talent, however, they weren't perfect. And one day, they were unable to save the parents of a twelve-year old girl.

Keavy was the last and youngest to join them. Feeling partially responsible for her parents' deaths, the boys vowed to protect their little sister at all costs, even if that meant excluding her from one of the things she loved most about them: Playing hero.

She pestered them about it frequently, and today it was Tyler's turn. He thought he'd escape it by moving into the hangar on the other side of the land, where he maintained the jet he would never be allowed to fly, and worked on new inventions, and built two small apartments so he and Andy wouldn't feel so cooped up in the chaos at the ranch house anymore.

But the hangar wasn't hard to find, and Keavy didn't mind the walk, always stopping by while she was taking the dog for a walk anyway, leaving him outside to dig holes on the improvised runway while she begged Tyler to let her join "the team."

"Pleaaaaase Ty!" she said, "If I had a jetpack—"

"I'm not building you a jetpack," Tyler said, "you could get hurt."

"You fly around on a shelf without a helmet!" Keavy pointed out.

"It's a hoover board," Tyler said, "and I'm seventeen. You're only twelve."

"All I'm hearing is we're both underage," Keavy said, folding her arms.

Tyler sighed. He was much too tired to argue about this again, so he tried ignoring her while pouring himself some coffee, only to find that the heating pad stopped working and his coffee had gone cold and stale.

"Are you ignoring me?!"

"Keavy I....I uh...."

Keavy raised a brow as Tyler seemed to lose his train of thought.

"Are you having a stroke?" she asked. She meant it as a joke, but things got real really fast when Tyler suddenly collapsed.

"O-oh my god— ANDY! ANDY HELP!"

She prayed to everything that Andy was home, but also ran to the fire alarm button by the hangar door and pulled it. A siren immediately started blaring throughout the hangar, almost drowning out the sound of a door being thrown open as Andy was thankfully home.

Keavy didn't immediately realise, though, running back over to Tyler and rolling him onto his back to check on him. His arms were stiff and bent, making the task not an easy one, and when she could finally look at his face, she found his eyes rolled far back, and he was foaming at the mouth.

"Keavy!"

Keavy nearly sobbed in relieve as Andy joined her. She always knew what to do. And she did now too. She pulled Keavy away and rolled Tyler onto his side, bending one of his knees to make sure he didn't roll too far.

"W-what's happening?!" Keavy asked.

"Seizure," Andy just said, "how long has he been down?"

"I-I don't know! W-we were just talking and suddenly he fell s-so I pulled the fire alarm—"

"So less than a minute then," Andy said, "turn that racket off!"

"I-I don't know how!" Keavy said. Andy rolled her eyes. She realised the girl was just scared, but it was hard to stay patient amid the noise of the siren. So she promptly pulled out her gun and fired a shot at the siren, which shut off with a final, sad whooooop...

Andy put her gun away again, turning back to Tyler and checking his pulse. Now that the siren was quiet she could hear that he was breathing, albeit a bit wheezy and shallow, but only a few seconds after his breathing returned to normal as his arms finally relaxed and went limp as well.

"He'll be okay," Andy said, "this happens sometimes."

"W-what do you mean?" Keavy asked.

"Tyler has epilepsy," Andy said, stroking the boy's hair a bit as he curled up on the floor.

"D-does this happen often?" Keavy asked in shock.

"Only if he forgets to take his meds, or doesn't get enough sleep," Andy said, "are you back with us, Ty?"

Tyler responded with a disgruntled groan.

"He's back," Andy said, "sorry you had to find out this way, Keavy. I know seizures look scary, but imagine having one. Screaming and pulling the alarm doesn't help him. So don't do that next time."

"I-I didn't know..." Keavy said, quickly wiping at her eyes.

"That's why I'm telling you now," Andy said, "we don't panic unless it lasts longer than five minutes or it's the second time in a day."

Keavy nodded, though she still couldn't help but worry as she peered at Tyler, trying to bury his face in his hands, though she could see the dust staining his cheek where he had drooled, and he looked as shaky as she felt, and it suddenly clicked what Andy said.

"Ty?" she said, kneeling down next to him, "Ty, it's okay. I'm here..."

She dug through her pockets, finding a pack of tissues and taking one out, using it to gently wipe the drool and dirt off of his face while he recovered. Once he felt calm enough, he slowly lowered his hands, peering up at Keavy.

"Thanks," he said hoarsely, "I hate drooling..."

"I can imagine," Keavy said, "can I do anything else for you?"

"Can you get me some water while I try to remember how to sit up?"

@ailesswhumptober

Masterlist Main account

Ever since that day Keavy always carries an extra handkerchief to clean Ty up if he gets another seizure.