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buttterknifeee · 4 years ago

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Sisters- Teen Titans x Aquagirl Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You don't get along well with your own siblings, but maybe you'll get along well with Starfire's super-cool, definitely-not-evil sister!

Pairings: Platonic! Starfire x reader

Word Count: 3575

A/N: Hey guys!!! Sorry for posting this so late I just did this one a lot slower lol. Unfortunately, school's starting soon so I won't be able to write as often. I'm still working on 2 fics so keep that in mind if you want to request!

Carnivals were the best invention in the world, you decided. The rides, the food, the games, and you only get to enjoy it a few times a year. So when the carnival does come to visit, you always make sure to enjoy it as much as you can.

“Don’t you just lovvvveee carnivals?” You say, walking next to Raven.

“Well, Beast Boy and Cyborg have been trying to win an animal from a single game for the past hour and Robin and Starfire are probably making out on the ferris wheel, so not as much as you.” she says, staring straight ahead. The others had paired up and set off when you first entered the carnival, so that left you with Raven. And as much as you love Raven, you love her in a “meditating/book club” way, not a “fun adventure” way. You approached the two boys as they finally won their carnival game prize.

“Told you we’d win a prize” Beast Boy grinned at Raven, holding a toy chicken to her face.

“A giant chicken. I must be the luckiest girl in the world.” She said sarcastically.

Suddenly, Robin jumped in front of the four of you.

“Titans! Trouble!” He yelled, standing up from a crouching position.

“Where’s Starfire?” Cyborg asked.

“That's the trouble,” Robin said, then promptly took off. The four of you followed him close behind. He brings the four of you to a dock, where you finally see the “trouble” Robin was talking about. Starfire was being chased by a flying, squid-like space robot with tentacles and everything. She flies past the five of you, the flying machine doing the same.

“Who’s her new best friend?” Beast Boy asks, staring at the scene before you.

“Don’t know, but I can’t wait to meet him,” Robin said.

Starfire hid behind you as the flying machine continued to follow her. Beast Boy turned into an alligator and tried to attack the robotic squid, but missed. You tried to hit it with jets of water, but it bounced off of its exterior. Raven threw a hot dog cart at the machine with her telekinesis, but it simply tore straight through the cart. Cyborg grabbed onto the tentacles and strained as the machine tried to get away.

“Don't know what you did to make this thing mad, Star, but it couldn't hurt to apologize!” Cyborg yelled, trying to keep a grip on the tentacles.

“I am… sorry?” Starfire apologizes confusingly, taking shelter behind a grimacing Robin.

Cyborg loses grip on the mysterious space squid as Robin jumps forward. He hits the machine hard with his staff and it falls into the water. A moment of silence falls onto the six of you.

“So, did we just win?” Beast Boy asked.

His answer came in the form of the machine crashing through the floor and back into the sky. Robin jumps onto it.

“Don’t see an OFF switch,” He yells. “Guess I’ll have to make one!” He punches into the side of the machine. The machine goes haywire, and Robin jumps off of it before it flies crazily into the sky and blows up. Since there were already fireworks, any regular citizens could have easily mistaken it for one of the big finals. You turned your attention to Starfire.

“Starfire, are you alright?” you ask. She nodded with a small smile.

“Whatever that thing was, it can’t hurt you now.” Robin said, now next to her again.

Starfire frowned. “But… why did it wish to hurt me at all?”

You found yourself back in the tower after such an eventful night. Despite being attacked by some alien machine, Starfire seemed to be in a cheery mood.

“I shall thank you for my rescue by reciting the Poem of Gratitude, all six thousand verses.” She said, a giant smile on her face. You and the others stopped dead in your tracks, not excited for how the rest of the night will seem to go.

“I think ‘thank you’ cuts it,” You say.

Suddenly, you hear a voice. “I see you haven’t changed a bit.” The voice belonged to a girl who bore a striking resemblance to Starfire. She had long, black hair, and wore a black outfit similar to Starfire, except hers had more metal components. The mystery girl continued.

“When we were little, I was always rescuing Starfire.”

“Sister!” Starfire squealed, running to hug her. Starfire’s sister smiled, holding up a necklace with a large green gem as the pendant.

“A Centauri Moon Diamond?? Where did you get-”

“On the Centauri Moons of course.” the sister said, fastening the necklace around Starfire’s neck. “Oh look, it matches your eyes.” Starfire smiled brightly. You remember that you’ve been staring at the two of them interacting when she turns to the five of you.

“I wish to introduce my big sister,” Starfire said. Her sister stepped in front of her.

“Blackfire,” she said. “ And since Star told me all about the Titans in her transmissions, let me guess.” She walks over to Cyborg.

“Cyborg,” She guessed correctly.

“Pleased to meet you little lady,” Cyborg says, holding out his hand. She takes it and you hear the sound of metal bending. Cyborg holds up his hand, now bent out of shape.

“Little lady, big handshake. Well alright!” he says with a smile. Blackfire moves on.

“Raven. I like that gemstone on your Ajna chakra,” Blackfire says.

“You know about chakras?” Raven asked, mildly impressed.

“I got way into meditation on Altara Prime.” She says casually. She then turned to you.

“Aquagirl. Oh my god your outfit is soooo cute! And your hair, how do you get it so healthy?” She said, clasping your hands. Her voice was nothing like Starfire’s; it was much smoother, and more confident, not to mention she had the American accent down.

“Mix of coconut oil, avocado, and a cabinet full of hair ointments” you wink.

“You’ll have to give me tips.” she winked back.

She continued her introductions, finally getting to Robin. She was all over him, complimenting his outfit, calling his mask ‘mysterious’, etc. You saw Starfire steaming with anger, even if she didn’t show it. She intercepted them as Blackfire got close to his face.

“So beloved sister, what brings you to Earth?” Starfire asks, an annoyed grin spread across her face.

“I was in the quadrant. Thought I'd see if Earthlings like to party.” She said, hopping onto the couch. “Besides, I needed a rest. Nearly got sucked into a black hole on the way here.” Immediately, the three boys rushed over to her, the three of you girls still behind them. You rolled your eyes at the sight of the three teens crowding around Blackfire.

“Black hole?”

“No way!”

“Cool”

You could feel Blackfire’s smirk as she began her story.

“Okay. I’m cruising through Draconis Nebula and-”

Starfire interrupted. “Sister! That nebula is full of black holes! You know travel there is forbidden.” The four teens on the couch stared at her.

“Most fun things in life are. Now be a sweetie and bring me one of those sodas I've heard so much about.” Blackfire waved at her and turned back to the boys. You heard her continue the story, but all you could focus on was Starfire grumbling towards the fridge. You look at Raven; your way of saying Ill go after her.

You find Starfire taking a soda can out of the fridge, talking to herself.

“Starfire?” you ask. She flinches at your approach, almost dropping the soda in her hand.

“Oh! Aquagirl. You have caught me off guard, my apologies,” she rubs her neck, blushing.

“You alright? You seemed a little worked up back there,” you say as the teen straightened herself up.

“Oh it's nothing, it's just that…” she sighed, closing the refrigerator. “My sister has always acted in such a way that can cause me to feel… annoyed.”

“Oh well, if you ever want to talk about it, I’m always here.” She hugs you, still holding the can of soda.

“Thank you my friend”

The next day, You were sitting in your room. Starfire barged in while you were rubbing the water from your head with your towel.

“Oh hey Starfire! What's up?” you smile, putting the towel onto your bed.

“Aquagirl! Have you seen Blackfire?” she asked. You noticed that she seemed distressed, but decided to answer her question first.

“Oh! We just went surfing! She crushed those waves!” You say, reminiscing. She was surprisingly good at surfing, especially since she told you it was her first time. Starfire frowned.

“Oh. alright.” you frowned back at her answer.

“Well, I think she might be with Robin right now. Is everything alright?” you ask. Her face turns bright red at the mention of Robin’s name.

“N- I mean, yes! Everything is alright. I must go.” She slammed the door before you could say anything. You wanted to go after her, but you figured since she left so quickly, she's probably not in the mood to talk. You went about your day, still a little worried about her.

Nighttime fell, and you sat on the couch with the other Titans, relaxing after an uneventful day. Starfire skipped in holding popcorn, candy, and a bunch of CDs.

“Friends! I invite you to join me in the togetherness of a stay-home movie night. I bring you popcorn and non-cotton candies. Tell me, what sort of movie shall we view?”

“Action,” said Robin.

“Romance!” you cheered.

“Comedy.” spat Beast Boy.

“Sci-fi” Cyborg offered.

“Horror.” Raven said flatly. Starfire drops her goodies.

“Perhaps a double feature?” she asked.

“Forget the flicks, kids.” You looked up to see Blackfire, now dressed in Starfire’s clothes. “We’re going out!”

“We are? Where did you- How did you-” Starfire stuttered, obviously confused by her sister’s new look.

“Heard about a party downtown,” Blackfire continued, ignoring her sister. “Cool crowd, hot music”

“Sound’s nice!” you say.

“Yeah!” Beast Boy agrees.

“I’m in!” Cyborg says.

“Why not?” Robin smiles. Raven kept looking at her book.

“And it's in an abandoned warehouse,” Blackfire adds. Raven looked up from her book, her way of saying that she's in. You all began to leave. You noticed Starfire still standing where she was, looking a bit sadder.

“Starfire? you coming?” you asked, walking by her.

“Oh um, I guess I will go,” she said, hanging her head a bit. You looked at her but she didn’t meet your eyes. Maybe she’s tired, you thought, walking to catch up with the other titans.

You entered the party, taking in the colorful lights and dancing teens. You followed Blackfire onto the dance floor, who seemed to already be dancing.

“Step aside Earthlings, the queen of the galaxy has arrived!” she cheered, swaying her hips with the other teens. She looks at the rest of you, a smirk on her face.

“Now don't tell me you big tough superheroes are afraid of a little dancing.” she says, beckoning you to do so. The boys joined in, and you noticed that Raven left the dance floor with a boy. The only people who weren’t dancing were you and Starfire. Starfire looked scared, she was clutching her new necklace, and you swore that she said something about shovels. You came up to her and took her hand.

“Let’s go Starfire, I think you need some air.” you say, leading her to the stairwell.

You sat next to her on the roof, both awkwardly silent.

“So, what's wrong?” you finally say.

“It’s my sister again,” she sighs. “It feels as though she has stolen you all from me, and I don’t know how to keep that from happening.”

“Hey. we’ll always be your friends, just as you’ll be ours. And she didn’t steal us from you, we just thought she was cool and all-” you were cut off by a yell from the part below.

“YO A.G.!!! YOU GOTTA COME DOWN HERE!!!” Cyborg yelled. You looked at the direction of the sound and then back at Starfire, who was staring at the ground.

“Oh- uh they probably need me, I’ll be right back,” You say, rubbing her arm. “HANG ON I'LL BE THERE IN A SEC!”

You race down to the dance floor and see Cyborg dancing.

“YO THEY’RE TOTALLY PLAYING YOUR SONG!” he yelled. Ugh I should get back to Starfire but they are totally playing my song, you thought. You look at Cyborg again, who was waving at you to join him. You see Robin next to you and pull him aside.

“Hey Aquagirl! Where’s Starfire?” He asked. You cross your arms.

“She’s upstairs on the roof. Listen, she’s super down in the dumps right now, I think you should talk to her.” You say. He nods and leaves, heading towards the stairs. You sigh as you go back to join your other friends. You bump into Blackfire, who was now sporting a neon pink wig.

“Um, nice wig,” you say.

“Thanks hot stuff. Where’s Robin? I saw you with him earlier.” She asked, still dancing. You weren’t sure if it was the best idea to tell her.

“He’s uhhhhhhh….” you try to stall.

“... with Starfire.” she finishes. You turn to see her staring through the glass roof, where you could see Robin and Starfire sitting together. She turns to the rest of you.

“One sec guys!” She winks. Less than a minute goes by and she reappears with Robin. You make eye contact; he seemed annoyed by being back here.

“We HAVE to dance to this song!” she says, starting to dance again next to Robin. He steps away from her.

“Sorry, but I’m going to check on Starfire again.” Robin says, heading to the stairwell again. Blackfire follows him, trying to get him to return, leaving you with Cyborg and Beast Boy. They continue to dance and you roll your eyes.

Suddenly, you notice Starfire fighting something. You squint at her location, then realize that what she's attacking is one of the robots from yesterday. You look at the two boys who’ve quite literally been dancing the whole time.

“Cyborg! Beast Boy! Starfire’s in trouble!” You yell, already running towards the exit. Suddenly, another of those robots appears out of nowhere.

“What the- AHHHHH!!!!” you scream as the robot latches onto you and drags you away. The two boys try to follow you but a third robot attacks them, leaving you to still be stuck in the clutches of the space robot. You see Raven hanging out with the boy from earlier (they’d be a cute couple huh) and she spots you. She flies after you, flinging two robots towards the machine as you finally break free. Starfire crashes into the room through the ceiling and lands in the crates, Cyborg and Beast Boy still taking on the other robot.

All three of the robots start chasing Starfire, and she flies around the room trying to lose them. Cyborg knocks into them and lays some punches, you trying to short circuit them by spraying them with water. One of the robots hits Cyborg, sending him flying into a wall. Another one sends Starfire flying into a different wall, and she lands in a dumpster. You run to the hole in the wall to find the aliens trying to bring the whole dumpster into the air. You were about to try to strike them when you saw a flash- the flash of a birdarang. It cuts into the arms of the robot and drops the container. Robin joins the rest of you.

“Titans Go!” Robin yells, but Blackfire flies out in front of you. In a matter of seconds she demolished all three robots. You all surrounded her as she stood victoriously.

“Aw yeah! Good times!”

“Nice shot, Tex!”

“Very nice.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself!”

“How did you know where to hit them?” Robin asked.

“Lucky guess,” Blackfire shrugged. Cyborg stepped forward.

“We could use luck like that,” he said. “Maybe you oughta join the team.”

“Me? A teen titan?” Blackfire asked, obviously flattered. You couldn’t help but notice Starfire looking away, a defeated look on her face. I should talk to her again, you decided.

You and Robin found Starfire standing on the roof of the Titans Tower. You found out that you both had the idea of finishing up your conversations, but it seemed that Starfire had different plans. You reach her as she floats into the air.

“Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?” Robin asked, causing her to whip around to face the two of you.

“A little rude if you ask me,” you tried to joke, but she didn’t laugh. Her head hanging, she slowly landed back on the roof, taking off the backpack she was wearing.

“Aquagirl, Robin, I- '' She began, but was cut off by the sound of a spaceship coming towards you. One of the aliens on board unleashes its arm, which is a tentacle much like one of the robot’s, and slashes you and Robin, sending you both to the ground. It then wraps around Starfire, pulling her into the ship.

Robin runs towards the screaming Starfire and jumps from the roof and towards the ship. You watch in horror as he misses, and begins the fall towards the ground. The ship continues its ascent into the air.

“ROBIN!” you scream, running towards the edge of the Tower’s roof. You can do this, you can do this, you can-

You focused hard, and raised your arms above you. A geyser of water shoots up from the shore and catches Robin. You raised the geyser up towards the hull of the spaceship, allowing the Boy Wonder to grab onto the bottom and make his way up. Seeing that he made it safely on board, you dropped the geyser of water.

You fell to your knees, breathing heavily. You haven’t made such a strong geyser in, well, never! Your vision was blurring as Beast Boy, Cyborg, and Raven all rushed onto the roof.

“Aquagirl! What happened?” Cyborg asked, helping you up.

“Starfire… Spaceship… Robin… I helped…” you huffed, pointing towards the spaceship, which was now far away from the tower.

“We gotta catch up to them. But how?” Beast Boy said, staring at the silhouette in the distance.

“Follow my lead.” Raven said, grabbing on to Beast Boy and Cyborg, who was holding into you. You watched as she made a dark portal in front of you. She pulled the three of you through it and you found yourself in the outskirts of the city, next to mountains and a river. You see Starfire and Robin up ahead, in front of a now toppled over spaceship.

“Starfire! Robin!” Beast Boy yelled as you caught up to them.

“Are you alright?” Cyborg asked. Suddenly, you see two aliens emerge from the shipwreck.

“Titans! Get ready!” he said, assuming a fighting stance, which you follow. You wait tensely as the aliens approach you.

“In the name of the Grand Centauri Empire, you are all under arrest.” one of the aliens says, showing off a professional looking police badge. You stare at it. If they're police, why are they arresting us? And why are we fighting them?

“Uh… you can’t be the good guys. We’re the good guys.” Beast Boy says, just as confused as you are.

“And we are the Centauri Police,” the second alien repeats.

“The Tamaranean girl is a liar and a thief.” the first police alien says, pointing at Starfire. “She's committed high crimes throughout the entire Centauri system.”

“I have never even been to the Centauri moons!” Starfire pleaded.

Suddenly everything clicked. The necklace, the events at the carnival, the events at the party. All evidence seemed to have pointed to Starfire, but they actually pointed at another person.

“But I know someone who has.” you and Robin say at the same time. You look at each other, obviously aware of who the other was thinking.

Blackfire.

Robin took off Starfire’s necklace for her and threw it aside. He faced the police aliens.

“You’ve been chasing the wrong girl. Where’s Blackfire?” Robin says. Before any of the other Titans could answer, you saw a figure flying through the sky.

“That Bitch!” you yelled, watching Blackfire make an escape.

“Don’t worry Star, she won't get away with this,” Robin says to Starfire, but her eyes are already glowing.

“No she will not!” she yells, and shoots off into the sky. You couldn’t see much, but there were flashes of bright green and purple in the sky. The Centauri police calmly rebalanced their ship and restarted it, its engine humming to life.

You then watched as they proceeded to fly up into the sky and capture Blackfire, similar to how they initially captured Starfire, and fly off into the night. You stared dumbfounded.

"What just happened?"

The next morning, you stood in front of the kitchen, making pancakes with Cyborg.

“Crazy what happened last night, huh?” you yawned, watching the pancakes sizzle on the stove.

“No kidding,” he said. “She would’ve made a great addition to the team, except for the intergalactic-criminal part.” You laughed, flipping the rest of the pancakes.

You climbed up to the roof, finding Robin and Starfire sitting together. God they’re probably being cheesy together you thought. You cleared your throat, the two of them jumping at your presence.

“Hey you two,” you winked. “Breakfast is ready!!!”

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sroloc--elbisivni · 3 years ago

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Snippet from the untitled “Spike gets a car and everyone has an opinion fic”: Ratbat

(I’m posting this now because I had fun with it and I’m not getting the last Definitionless chapter out this week, or this whole thing out anytime soon, so….why not)

Spike was putting away groceries when Carly’s jury-rugged Cybertronian Life Signs Detector over the fridge started beeping insistently. He sighed and pulled down the monitor to check the distance, fully expecting it to have picked up Bumblebee lurking sadly at the edge of its newly expanded range.

Instead, it showed a sign in close proximity, and getting closer. Getting…right up to the house?

The doorbell rang. Spike went to answer it with great suspicion.

A metal bat with a body the size of a large wheelbarrow plus the wings sat on the house’s front porch, one clawed wing-tip extended to poke the doorbell. Spike blinked at it, taking in the Decepticon sigil, and then shut the door.

The doorbell rang again. Spike reluctantly concluded that he should deal with this before the cassette escalated to property damage and opened the door again.

“Are you leaving the Autodorks?” Ratbat asked. His voice sounded like what Spike imagined a toy piano would if it could talk. “Will you come live with us instead? I don’t wanna be the youngest anymore.”

“I’m not leaving the Autobots. I work for them,” Spike said. “How did you find my house?”

“Soundwave has—I mean, secret Decepticon spy stuff.” Ratbat drew himself up, puffing his chest out. Spike resisted the urge to scratch his little head by remembering all the times he’d seen Buzzsaw’s claws of equal size rip tears in metal. “Would you work for me?”

“I need to eat,” Spike said. He pulled the stepstool from behind the door so he could at least sit down for this conversation. “Human food. Not energon.”

“You could eat fish. Humans eat fish. We have a lot of fish. Rumble and Frenzy keep dumping them on Skywarp.” Ratbat scruffed one of his little wing hands over an ear. “Do you have any energon? I could eat it for you.”

Carly probably did, because she liked to add it to fuel blends for her micro-engines, but Spike wasn’t about to touch her engineering corner. Especially not for a runaway Decepticon. “How about some old motherboards?” He’d helped organize electronic waste programs for donation as Autobot snacks, since they could break just about anything down to component minerals and use it for their systems given enough time. And Ratbat was basically a kid, he probably needed lots of minerally dense snacks.

“Okay,” Ratbat said, perking up.

Spike told him to stay on the porch and went to get the box of circuitboards and microprocessors labeled DO NOT USE in Chip’s blocky handwriting. When he got back, Ratbat was leaned out over the overgrown lawn examining the hose on the side of the house, but he still had his back feet on the porch. Spike didn’t like Soundwave, but he suddenly felt a wave of sympathy for him.

“Does Soundwave know you’re here?” he asked, setting the box of electronics on the porch and carefully sitting back on his stool inside, very clearly not threatening or being threatened by the cassette at all.

“No,” Ratbat said, face already halfway inside the box. There was a crunching noise that would have been suspicious in any other context. Spike wanted some peanuts, suddenly.

“Does anyone know you’re here? Besides me.” Spike felt like he’d been assigned to watch a little cousin.

“Ravage probably knows,” Ratbat said. “Ravage knows everything.” He had a wire trailing from between his teeth before he slurped it up like a piece of spaghetti. Spike was oddly endeared for a moment, the lecture from the forces of Chip and Carly and his mother combined about not bringing home strays notwithstanding.

“How did you get here if Soundwave doesn’t know?” Spike asked.

“Did you know trains just stop?” Ratbat had his head back in the box of microprocessors. “They just stop sometimes and there are these open cars you can climb in.”

“Neat,” Spike said, and wondered if that was a security issue. Probably not. Most Decepticons were heavy enough a train driver would notice, right? “Are you sure you’ll be able to get back that way?”

“I dunno. Probably.”

Spike didn’t want to call the Autobots. That wouldn’t help calm down the situation. Most of them barely ever saw Ratbat, because Soundwave didn’t take him to battles. Was there a battle happening today?

“I’m going to get some water,” Spike said, standing up. “I don’t have any coolant for you.”

“Okay,” Ratbat said. He was eyeing the hose again.

“Don’t break the hose.” Spike went back inside.

He got some water, and some peanuts, and turned on the little portable radio, carrying it out to the porch. No breaking news reports of Decepticon activity. Ratbat had taken the injunction not to break the hose as permission to mess with it, apparently, and was wrapping and unwrapping it from around the holder. His ears perked at the sound of radio static and he came over to inspect it more closely as Spike flipped through the stations.

“Is that a toy?” Ratbat asked, genuinely curious. “It’s got such a little range.”

“Humans don’t need that many channels,” Spike said distractedly. “And this is just to pick up up signals, not transmit them. It couldn’t send out if I wanted it to, never mind if you wanted it to.”

Ratbat screwed up his face. “I can do better with a radio than some human.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

Ratbat scooped up the radio and immediately cracked it open, rummaging inside. They’d been due for a new radio anyways.

One cable came out of Ratbat’s winglet paw, connecting in the radio and setting up a droning hum in the air that made Spike’s fillings buzz. He felt a little bad for the havoc this was going to wreak on local airwaves, but whatever got Ratbat out of here faster was all to the good.

Spike ate peanuts and watched Ratbat play with the radio and before long there was a faint sonic boom. When Spike looked up, a brightly painted jet was descending towards his street much faster and silently than an ordinary jet would.

Soundwave fell out in alt mode ten yards above the street, landing hard enough to crack the asphalt. That would be fun to hear Bumblebee complain about. Not to mention drive on himself. Spike ate another peanut, looking as nonchalant and nonthreatening as he could.

“Ratbat: return,” Soundwave ordered, striding over.

Ratbat clutched the radio, looking mutinous. “But—!”

“You can take it with you,” Spike offered. Soundwave shot him a look that Spike didn’t think he would have been able to interpret even if Soundwave didn’t keep his whole face covered.

Ratbat, barely mollified, tucked the radio away and looked at Spike. “Are you sure you won’t come work for me?”

“Pretty sure,” Spike said, and ate another peanut.

Once Ratbat had transformed and Soundwave had scooped him up to tuck away, Spike was still being looked at by two Decepticons. Hm.

“I won’t mention this if you won’t?” Spike offered. He tensed his feet to run anyways.

After a long moment, Soundwave announced “Terms: accepted.”

The ice cream had melted by the time Spike got back to putting the groceries away.

Chip got a ride home from Huffer that day, who had thick enough tires that Spike didn’t hear him make any complaints when he went out to say hello. Chip started sorting mail while Spike unpacked the new radio he’d gone out to get after the excitement earlier.

“Hm,” Chip said, and Spike looked up to see him holding an envelope with the distinct lilac color Barbara used for official HOA reprimands. “Do I want to know what this is about?”

“Probably not,” Spike said honestly.

“Alright,” Chip said, tossing it in the ‘recycle’ pile. He wheeled over to the fridge and made a tally mark on the piece of paper set aside for that purpose. When they got up to ten, they’d host a barbecue to propitiate the neighbors.

“Better make it two,” Spike said.

#sroloc writes stuff #on all levels except physical i am scooping up spike witwicky as a character concept and carrying him away from hasbro to do whatever i want #mushroom verse #chip/carly/spike #is this transformers #ratbat #spike witwicky #soundwave #maccadams #mushroomverse

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cloudninetonine · 4 years ago

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Cogito, ergo sum

Chapter: 2

Pairing: Connor (RK800) x fem!reader

A/N: Hey guys! I want to apologise for the long wait between chpaters but seeing as I’m on my last year of college my school work is coming before everything else so it’s a little hard working between them! Don’t worry, I’m not dropping this series or anything just expect chapters to take a little long to be loaded and everything! Also, this chapter seems a little too far paced for me, so sorry about that as well!

Tags at the bottom once again!

I do not own Detroit become human this is merely fanficion

Warnings: Bad language, physical assault, threats (?), hints of abuse, (Name) being weird like always, also angry (Name), mentions of drugs, there’s a bit of slander against drug abusers that I do not condone!

Undercut babes!

It’s fascinating, it really is, the way her beautiful gaze follows you as you round her, studying her feverishly, your eyes wide and bright.

She’s...well, words cannot describe her. Her beauty lies beyond your imagination and you’re not quite equipped to say anything that her magnificent ears deserve to hear, your words are below her and she’s just-

Wow.

“Ms (Last), please-”

You raise your hand towards the younger engineer, silencing with a small utter of ‘hush’ and he’s shutting his mouth, falling back to the side of your desk with not much else to say.

The android you’ve been un-shamelessly ogling for the past 10 solid minutes is still very quiet, she’s just watching you in her manufactured attire, shy, nervous, scared- everything you really wish she wasn’t right now because there is no way you want her to see you as some sort of threat, far from it.

“Henry” Turning back towards the engineer, he stiffs up like a board, sweat forming on his brow “Why didn’t you dismantle her?”

It’s rude, it’s horrible to say and it sours your mouth when you form those words, but it’s an honest question, you want to know why someone would do this, keep her alive, see her for all her glory.

The public spoke strongly about their opinions of androids, like toys to be played with, slaves to be worked, not the thing you so desperately wanted people to see them as. The masterpieces that stood beyond human comprehension.

The android lets out a noise similar to a whimper as Henry stammers out.

“I-I couldn’t she- um- I-” Finally, he sighs with frustration, Henry makes eye contact with you “She said was scared and...I couldn’t”

You snap back to face her.

“Is that true?”

She hesitates, one second, two seconds, three seconds, four- it takes a whole 30 seconds before she’s finally responding. “Yes…”

Your chest bursts in excitement.

“You’re incredible” Henry deflates in relief, placing a hand against your desk while you grasp her cheeks, her warm grey eyes glancing between your two hands then meet your own stare, confused. “Amazing, beautiful, fantastic, so, so much more”

“...thank you”

You sniff, then you’re pulling away, trying to keep your tears abay. You really can’t believe that your work has gone so far, that new forms of sentient are evolving from a human’s hand, you’re so overjoyed by it all but you’re also kind of realising how weird you’re being.

“Sorry, I’m becoming the creepy stereotypical scientist, let me just-” Pulling off your lab coat, you throw it over her shoulders, pulling it tighter around her for her dainty hands to grasp and hold, a smile growing on her face in gratitude. You’re really still in awe of it all but send her a giddy smile back “Henry get Kamski I’m sure he’s gonna love this”

When the man disappears, closing the office door behind him, you guide her to a chair, kneeling before her kindly.

“Tell me” She waits patiently for you to continue “What’s your name?”

When she opens her mouth, you interrupt her, grasping her hands “No, not the name you were given, the name you have chosen. What is your name?”

You’re at the beginning of history right here, you can already see the books that are yet to be written, all starting at this very moment, with you and her. This android, this amazing, piece of living metal, is the start of something great and you can’t wait to be a part of it.

“My name is….”

-----------

“(Name), I’m sorry, but there isn’t really anything I can do”

Your hands come down on the desk, expression unbelieving.

“But he attacked Ortiz in self defence, it’s not fair for him to be shipped to Cyberlife! That hellhole already has enough test subjects with other deviants, why can’t he be let go!?” Pushing yourself back up, you drag your hands down your face in exasperation “He’s a victim! He was defending himself, why can’t we let him off with a lesser offence?”

Billie sighs, shutting the file softly. “Because in the eyes of the law, he’s not a victim. He’s property and there isn’t much we can do about that. Besides, because Ortiz is dead, his ownership basically goes back to Cyberlife, so they have the authority to take him back”

Billie’s right, you know that they’re right, but it’s just so frustrating, so vexing that this is the case. An android, in the eyes of society, is nothing more than their components, why should they be given the same privilege as those who eat, shit and breathe?

Billie may be a judge, but they didn’t make the law.

You remember years ago, when something like this would have been seen as detestable, that the masses would have stood up to fight this kind of horror, but for some reason, with age came stupidity and ignorance it seemed. What the fuck had happened to you all?

You open your mouth, then close it, then open it again before huffing, taking the file from their desk and ripping your coat off the hanger.

“I’m sorry, (Name)!” Billie calls and you wave them off, shouting back a ‘Don’t worry about it’ then close their office.

The courthouse is only a few blocks away from the precinct, a good walk away, a good way to calm yourself down until you’re having to face the frustration that comes in with having to work in such a high strung place. It’s funny really, you used to say ACAB when you were younger, still believed it too, so it’s really a wonder as to why you joined, but then again sometimes to make change you have to become the very thing you hate-

“Detective (Last)-”

You scream, almost dropping your files and jumping a meter within the air. Passerbys don’t even spare you a glance, a generation raised on the weirdest websites like Vine, Tiktok, Youtube and god forbid, Tumblr, have them desensitised to whatever shit people like to play at now-a-days.

“Oh my God, Inspector Gadget” A hand falls to your chest, checking your racing heartbeat “You can’t just sneak up on a bitch like that”

Connor, the big old puppy, tilts his head in mild confusion “But I called your name twice, detective”

Oh.

“What are you doing here, Connor?”

The android joins your side and you continue your way. “Lieutenant Anderson informed me that you were heading to the courthouse, so I decided to come and brief you about a new case”

A new case, of course a new case, deviancy keeps popping up all over the country rapidly but you can’t hold your surprise about the fact that it’s been a few days and there’s already a new case.

“Deadass?”

Wait, you hadn’t mean to say that-

His eyes narrow “Deadass?”

A snort escapes you “Oh my God I can’t believe you just said that, it sounds so cursed coming from your mouth. I meant, seriously?”

You swear on your life, on everything that may be above and so much more, that the android lets out a laugh when he continues, explaining the details as you finally enter the office.

You realise, as he talks, you feel a whole lot lighter than you had earlier.

-----------

“This guy is as scummy as it gets”

Unfortunately, you can’t help but agree. Todd Williams is about as charismatic as a dumpster fire, messy hair, messy face, stained clothing and the stench of alcohol clung when you finally met him, having to hold back a wince of disgust.

You don’t usually speak ill of others, but you know his type, from the way he carries himself to the way he speaks. You’ve had to face men like him before, his whole demeanor brings back bad memories and you’re so glad that you’re not the one having to get details from him, to have to speak to him.

One thing’s for sure though, you don’t blame whatever deviant decided to book it from him.

“Why doesn’t he just...get a refund from Cyberlife?” You take a sip of your milkshake, staring at Hank, Connor and Mr Williams who looked to be ending off their conversation. “They do that for deviants, don’t they?”

Yes, if you remember, the new flashy CEO of the hell corp spoke it for all to see, that deviance is guaranteed to offer you your cash back.

How inhumane it all sounded.

Gavin scoffs, drinking his coffee “You think a guy like that cares about refunds?”

No. You know why he’s doing it. It’s all about power for fuckers like that.

Mr Williams leaves, Hank is looking through his notes, Connor is heading your way, probably to refer all the information back to you and Gavin is taking in a breath to start his bullshit again, despite your civilness that you had been sharing.

Eh, peace was never an option-

“Your metal boyfriend is heading this way”

The noise you make isn’t human, it’s a mix of a wheeze and scream, like you’ve just choked on the air your breathing and in all honesty, you have, but you’re not letting that mother fucker get away with catching you off guard, especially when he starts laughing.

“Shut up, furry”

Your actually feel the air from his head snapping towards you. “I’m not a fucking furry, quit fucking saying it!”

You pat his shoulder “It’s alright, Reed, we all know you wrote yiff fiction in your spare time-”

You dodge his fist, running away from his red, angered face and petty insults, dragging Connor away from the break room to the side, all while laughing up a storm.

Having your attention on the android again brings back Gavin’s words, his tease of ‘boyfriend’ which makes your face heat up, in what? You’re not quite sure, but it’s enough to make Connor notice your oddity.

“What were you and Detective Reed-”

“Nothing” You cackle, patting down his shoulders to distract yourself “He’s just being an arsehole again, nothing to worry yourself over”

And worry himself he didn’t, because he couldn’t of course, android and all.

Connor was quick to fill you in, an AX400 by the name of Kara had stolen (the word kidnapped comes to mind but you know that the robot detective will just ‘correct’ you on your wording) another android, Mr William’s ‘daughter’, model YK500 named Alice after assaulting him the night before. Mr Williams had been knocked out after the ordeal, as to why it had taken him so long to report it.

“Were there any signs of assault that you could see? Ones that could lead to a potential take down or unconsciousness?” Connor takes a moment before shaking his head “Yeah, I didn’t think so”

What a lying fuck.

“Let’s head to the briefing room”

Hank is there, as well as a whole group of other police officers, talking amongst themselves as you situate yourself behind the podium, screen remote in hand and smiling brightly. Your partners are at your side, Connor in his usual stoic stance while the old fart has his arms crossed, bored as always and you’re ready to debrief the many uniforms but they keep talking, even after you clear your throat.

You’re not one to get angry at being talked over, annoyed, yes, but anger leads you nowhere with a crowd, so instead, you use your most favourite tactic to date

“Pay attention to me or I am gonna start screaming people” You sing. Not a threat, but a promise. “And you all know I will screech like mother fucker”

The room is silent in the next second.

“Great! So-”

The door to the room bursts open.

“Fucking really-”

“Detective (Last)'' It's the front office assistant and by the looks of it, he is panicked, worried even, as he addresses you. You suddenly feel your stomach knot up “I’m sorry, but there’s been an emergency with your relative Carl Manfred”

You swallow, hard. “What?”

The meeting ends right then and there.

-----------

Hank hurls to a stop right outside the entrance. You’re already halfway out of the car when he shuts off the vehicle, Connor is taking off his seatbelt and you’re already racing down the soaked concrete path to the front door, rain pelting down on you.

You barely feel it though.

You startle the receptionist when you slam your hands down, eyes wide in panic, breathing coming out in fast, short pants and just looking as though you faced the masses to make it to this spot, right in front of her.

“Carl Manfred, he was brought here about an hour ago is he-”

She interrupts “Are you family?”

“Yes, please, I-”

“In what relation do you have to the patient?”

Is she really fucking serious right now? You debated leaning over and strangling your answer out of her, letting her know what kind of fucking pain you could put her through in this very moment-

But the hand that is placed against your back keeps you still. It’s warm and comforting and keeps you from mauling the fucker right out of her chair, though it doesn’t calm your anxiety, no, but at least it’s there.

You turn to see Connor, who nods towards you politely.

Huh, what a twist of events.

Hank leans over from your other side, looking just as angry as you feel, though he keeps his voice civil when he speaks “Listen, her old man’s just had a heart attack, could you drop the formal shit so she can see him?”

Her voice is sharp, just like her stupid fucking face and she snaps back “I can’t let you in unless I know your relation, unless you’d like to be escorted out by security”

Damn, she’s playing with fire and you’re ready to throw oil all fucking over her.

“I don’t fucking think so-” Pulling out your badge, you slam it against the desk, with nothing short of a growl “Police. Now, tell me where my fucking dad is or you’ll regret the next words that come out of your mouth”

You never abuse your power as a cop, it’s inhumane and back in your younger days you sneered at the disgusting police who would use their authority for their own gain, so you hate to admit but the nervous look that crosses her face when she sees your badge and Hank’s when he pulls it out for extra effect scratches an itch you begged to be scratched.

“Floor 3, the front desk will inform you what room”

“Thanks” You spit, already rushing to the elevator, the other two following.

Connor is quiet, to your surprise. Honestly, you expected him to speak out about your behaviour, your attitude, your unprofessionalism, but he says nothing, just trails after the two of you in silence, obediently, just like he was made for.

It’s comforting having him here, even if he’s just following orders.

The next receptionist is kinder than the last (she even scowls at the mention of her coworker) and points down the hallway, to where two officers stand with cups of coffee within their hands. They stiffen in surprise at your arrival, but you pay them no mind, pushing your way into the room where you finally pause, taking in the scene of your beloved father figure, laid still within the bed, pale, heart monitor beeping occasionally.

The doctor by Carl’s side looks up at you. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

Hank and Connor wait outside.

“(Name) (Last), Carl’s daughter and emergency contact” You explain, walking further into the room “Is he- Can I-”

“He’s fine” She explains with a comforting smile “And yes, you can come closer, though the medication has him knocked unconscious so he won’t be talking any time soon”

The relief almost has you collapsing, brings you back from the panic attack that threatens to kick your arse right in front of everyone and you finally breathe normally.

“Thank you, and you are?”

“Dr Collins” Collins offers her hand and you shake it weakly. “Your father is going to be okay, (Name), but he’s going to need a lot of rest. Cardiac arrest at this age can be fatal, so we were lucky that he lived so close”

You nod, tiredly slinking to Carl’s side to drop into the cushion chair, taking his hand in yours. Kissing it lovingly, you place it close to you in comfort, in reassurance.

‘He’s fine, he’s fine, he’s going to be okay-’

“What are you doing here?”

Your anger shoots right back up, as does you head when you turn to look at the doorway.

“Leo” The name is dragged out of your mouth, it’s spoken with a heavy coat of venom and dirt and for all the participants who are about to see this wild shit show, is a clear indication that you’re far from happy to see the man that stood there. “The fuck are you doing here?”

He scoffs “I’m family, what else am I here for?”

“Oh I don’t know,” You’re standing, stalking closer to him with a raged gleam in your eye “To mooch off him a little bit more?”

The tension can be cut with a knife, everyone can see it, feel it, even Connor, who looks ready to intervene at any given moment.

“No, detective” One of the officiers starts, cutting in in hopes to keep you both calm. “He was there when it all happened, he saw everything-”

“He was there?” No, her words only add fuel to the fire and you’re glaring at your brother once again “You were there? The fuck were you there for? You did this?”

“No!”

“Please calm down” Collins cuts in “I understand the anger but the other patients-”

You ignore her, glancing around the area when a thought struck you.

“Where’s Markus?”

Connor’s the first to respond, “Who’s Markus, detective (Last)?”

“Dad’s care bot” A pin drops, no one is speaking, the two cops are quiet, Leo is scowling, but he’s not looking at you and your anger is quickly making room to fear, cold and stabbing when you push again, harsher, angrier “Where the fuck is Markus?”

The second officer speaks this time, hat in his hands and you know what happens next is not going to be good.

“He was leaning over your father when we walked in detective, Mr Leo Manfred told us he attacked him” The man gulps, hesitating. He’s not nervous for what he’s done, no, he’s nervous about the dark look that seems to be slowly taking over your eyes, “I shot him”

A beat goes by. Then another, another, another, another, another-

“Why were you there in the first place?” It’s soft, curious, but the rage behind it is big, your need for an answer is keeping it back “What was the call for?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“Answer the question, officer”

His partner offers up the answer “....A break in, ma’am”

There’s silence, then you nod in understanding.

No one is quick enough to stop you from shoving Leo into the wall, hands wrapped tightly around the lapels of his jacket and holding him up so you can scream at him properly, face feeling hot from anger, eyes wild from rage, practically feral.

“You fucking did this! This is your fault, you good for nothing fuck!” You pull your hand back and punch him right in the face, he’s too in shock to react but everyone else is trying to pull you off “What?! Were you off your shit from snorting that fucking powder again, you damn druggie!? Huh!? HUH!? You high right now, too!?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, (Name), let go!” Hank yells but he’s fucking impressed by your resistance.

“He could have died because of you, you good for nothing cunt! Worthless piece of shit! Now, Markus is fucking dead because of you, the person who was actually fucking taking care of him! This is all your fault! He’s in that hospital bed, because of you! You! Did! This! All for those stupid drugs! You’re fucking pathetic!”

You’re finally tugged off by someone, their arms slipping under your own to stop you from going back at him again. The officers are acting as a wall between you and your brother, Dr Collin’s is checking his nose as blood drips down his face, Leo is still in shock and Hank is leaning over, hands propped onto his knees. That leaves...

“I’m sorry detective (Last), but I’m going to have to restrain you until you calm down”

You scream in frustration and try to fight against it, but damn, you have to admit in a moment of clarity, Connor is fucking strong.

“Lieutenant Anderson, if you could take her legs, we can escort her out of the building without much trouble” Hank huffs something under his breath probably a grunt of ‘fucking android’ but complies, glaring at you when he leans down.

“You kick me and I’ll kick your ass”

Your respect for him makes you comply, but the anger doesn’t stop you from cussing both him and the android out, naming every threat under the sun as they carry you out of the building, back to the car which you are shoved placed into.

“Let me out of this fucking car, Hank!” You bellow, glaring at the man with sharp eyes who stood outside the vehicle, leaning against it “I’ll break this fucking window, I swear to fucking God!”

“You can try, but we both know you won’t!”

Once again, you’re screaming, tugging frantically at the door’s handle that you know is locked, but are way too angered to care right now.

Connor sits by your side, a good distance away to not antagonise you, silent, waiting and watching as you slowly fall from angry to desperate, tears welling within your eyes and falling down your cheeks. It only takes a few more moments for you to stop altogether, your shoulders shaking as you sob, quietly but strong.

The android finally speaks “Detective (Last)-”

You’re on him in a moment, arms wrapped around his frame, face buried into his shoulder, wetting his suit jacket as you cry, shaking.

It’s a new one for Connor. An android built for detective work, to sniff out the bad deviants, to question suspects and actually built with a comforting feature for victims of crimes. But this is a first, a first he’s seen anyone to tears, more importantly, a first of seeing you so broken. Sure, he had seen you defeated those few days ago, but this is different, you’re not trying to hide conflicting feelings behind your bubbly smile and weird jokes, you’re just...crying. Nothing more, nothing less.

His arms are hovering at your sides, hesitant, unsure and it’s not until Hank gestures from outside the car to ‘fucking do something, you stupid machine’ that the protocol finally kicks in, his arms coming to wrap around you securely and comforting, reassuring you through your whimpers.

Connor is a robot, a machine that feels nothing.

But seeing you cry isn’t something he can just let happen.

Software instability.

-----------

Tags: @dillxpixkles @1950schick @pinkittwice @iris-suoh @loveflowsthroughme @thatlonelyalto @starcatcher-kay (ya’ll I’m half asleep if I forgot you in the taglist I am SORRY-)

#connor rk800 #dbh connor #detroit become human connor #dbh hank #detroit become human hank #dbh gavin #detroit become human gavin #dbh carl #detroit become human carl #connor rk800 x reader #connor rk800 imagine #dbh connor x reader #dbh x reader #dbh imagine #dbh #detroit become human #dbh leo #detroit become human leo #cogito ergo sum

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omgreally · 4 years ago

Text

The Apprentice: Chapter 4

Read on AO3 Pairing: Din Djarin/F!Reader Rating: E for Explicit, Soon Wordcount: 9k+ Summary: Peli Motto took you off the streets of Tatooine to become one of the best apprentices she’s ever had - but honestly, the DUM droids are setting the bar pretty low. Still, you work out well for the first few months until an armored Mandalorian stranger lands with a busted-up ship and a strange magic baby and, well, you’re intrigued. Even though you know you shouldn’t be. Peli’s always teling you to keep away from anything hot but sometimes, to fix something, you have to stick your hand straight into the fire.

---

“How’s it going in there?”

You jump, whacking your head on the edge of the open panel. You’ve been working inside the Razor Crest for hours and it’s been cramped, hot and sweaty, and this is the last thing you need.

You wonder how anyone wearing so much metal can move so silently. Shouldn’t it clink, or something? But no. The Mandalorian is silent. The Mandalorian is stealth personified.

The Mandalorian is fucking annoying.

The first day it was disturbing, the second, uncomfortable, and now it’s just a pain in the ass. You’ll be trying to work and he’ll pop up out of nowhere like a children’s toy, spouting some deliciously smooth one-liner in that scratchy, filtered voice of his, and you’ll get distracted, forget what you’re doing, screw up or have to start all over again - or all three.

You’re just lucky you didn’t brain yourself on the edge of the open access hatch. You rub your forehead, glancing around to glare at him - but he’s closer than you thought. He’s braced a forearm against the bulkhead and he’s looming over your shoulder, helmet tilted as he peers over your shoulder. He’s so close you can see your reflection in that shiny metal breastplate of his, and you look��

Not as annoyed as you should be.

“Do you mind?” you gripe. “You’re in my light.”

“No I’m not. You have a flash clipped to your shirt.” He taps it, and you draw back a little, the memory of his gloved finger tracing your collarbone burning bright in your stomach. Fuck.

You’re not sure if he’s aware of it, but he’s constantly getting in your space. Touching you. Just fleetingly, under the guise of guidance, moving you out of the way or towards something he wants looked at. It’s a brush of his hand against your waist here, a touch of his fingers at the small of your back there, and it’s just enough for a repeat of that first night in your bunk.

You try not to think about that as you turn back to the mess of components and circuitry on the inside of his ship. There’s too much work to do, and while he often hovers close to you like a moth to lamplight, he doesn’t seem keen enough to get close enough to singe his wings.

You can’t tell if he’s doing it on purpose. Whether he knows he’s driving you insane - in more ways than one. It’s impossible to determine beneath the shell of his armor, the unknowable darkness of his visor. Sometimes, though, he’ll tilt his head, or the tones of his voice through the vocabulator become warm and honeyed beneath the unfriendly scratch, and you wonder...

“Y’know, the repairs would go faster if you didn’t keep interrupting me,” you point out. You don’t add the fact that secretly, deep down, you enjoy the interruptions. You like being driven insane by this unfathomable tower of Beskar.

Peli tells you it’s just a crush, that you’ll get over it. But you’re long since past the age of schoolgirl infatuations, and how can you have a crush on a man whose face you’ve never seen? No, this is something different. Gravitational pull, just like Peli said, although she sours when you quote her own words back to her. You don’t know what it means, but you’re fairly certain that if the Mandalorian asked you to try and fix an engine that was actively on fire, you’d do it.

You’d burn up.

“Just want to know what you’re doing,” Mando says. “I don’t like having strangers working on my ship.”

Ouch. That stings, though you’re not sure why.

“But Peli speaks highly of you,” he continues as he watches your hands work under the white light of the flash. Wait, she does ? “And you seem…”

He pauses for far too long.

“Competent.”

Right.

“You Mandalorians aren’t so good at compliments, are you?”

“When the need arises.” Oof. The way he says need makes your gut churn, and not in a bad way. You try to ignore it.

You stop to survey your handiwork, trying not to look at Mando except out of the corner of your eye. He’s still there. Hovering, tall and boxing you in to the cramped space. You realize then that you can’t get to the ladder without having to squeeze past him, and it makes your pulse ramp up a little higher, as it always does when you’re in close quarters with him.

You’re going to have to do something. You can’t work in these conditions. It’s too distracting.

You set down your hyperspanner at the same time as he turns and walks away. You stare at his back, appalled. He knows exactly what he’s doing, the fucker. You’re suddenly full of a mindless frustration, and you call out to him - “Hey, Mando!”

He stops and turns. You think maybe under the helmet he’s raising an eyebrow, or frowning.

“What’s the deal?” you ask, putting your hands on your hips. Tilting your chin up in challenge. He shifts his weight to one foot and lets his hands hang at his sides. Posturing again.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t figure it out. Do you want me to fix your damn ship or not? ‘Cause you keep hovering over me like I’m doing something wrong.”

“You're not,” he assures you.

“Then what’s the deal?” Suddenly brave, you step closer to him. And closer. Until you’re in his space, and you have to crane your neck up to meet his visor. This close, he’s very still, and you can see the rise and fall of the chestplate with his breath, the movement of his cowl as he swallows, heavily, underneath it. Interesting. “‘Cause if you’d rather have Peli up here, say the world. I’ll go.”

“No,” he says. And when he lifts a gloved hand, you flinch. He reaches out and turns off the flashlight hanging from the strap of your tank top. Just a light tap, but his hand lingers, and then you feel rough leather on the outside of your arm.

“You take good care of the Crest,” he says, and your lungs seize and your blood rushes in your ears as his fingers trail down towards your elbow. “And you’re good with your hands.” His voice has dropped an octave and fuck, it’s doing things to you, making your thighs want to clench and your mouth water. Does he know? Can he know? You wonder what’s under that fucking armor, and your fingers suddenly itch to find out.

“Not the only thing my hands are good at,” you say, and his head tilts. Curious.

“Oh?”

That little oh of inquiry - it’s more interest than he’s ever shown you. You seize on it like a flame in the darkness.

Your voice comes out soft, suddenly touched by shyness, but you’re bold as you take that last step forward that brings you an inch from his body and Kriff, he’s broad. You feel dwarfed by him, but strong when you reach out and place a finger on his breastplate. He stills at the touch. “I could show you.”

For a heartbeat, he doesn’t move, and this close you can hear the sound of his breathing through the modulator. Hear it as he hesitates. Then he reaches up, and his hand closes around yours, completely enfolding it.

“You don’t want to do that.”

Your stomach drops, and this time, not in a good way. He steps back and lets you go, and you try not to allow the disappointment to show on your face. Instead, you stoke the flame of your anger, let it burn bright and hot in your chest in the place of embarrassment, even as your face flushes.

“Why? You think I’m offering ‘cause I’m getting paid? Because I’m not,” you tell him. “I’m an apprentice. Peli took me off the streets, gave me food, somewhere to sleep, something to do. What I do the rest of the time is my business. I’m not in the habit of offering clients extra services just for kicks.”

You don’t expect Mando to turn back towards you, to loom suddenly, tall and menacing, in your space. But he does, and you resist the urge to take a step back, instead blinking rapidly and drawing a quick breath into your lungs to steel you as he leans over you.

“You don’t know what you’re offering, Girl,” he tells you, and his voice is - Gods - his voice is a rough rasp that licks up your spine, makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He’s not touching you but he might as well be - you feel warmth in your belly, between your legs, and it sets your teeth on edge. “I’m a Mandalorian.”

“And?” you prompt, surprised when you find it easy to speak. “You may not be allowed to take off the armor, but you can let me take care of you like I take care of your ship.”

Mando’s breath catches. It’s subtle, but you hear the stutter of it through the vocabulator, and it makes your blood sing with triumph. It makes you brave, steadying the shake in your fingers when you reach out and lay your hands flat on his chest, the Beskar cool underneath your palms.

“Nobody’s ever…” he begins, and there’s something in his tone, something small and broken that makes your heart ache for him suddenly. “It’s always been about what I can do for them. Never what I - Dank farrik…” Mando swears suddenly, soft and vehement, and you wonder what’s going through his mind. “You don’t even know me.”

“Yeah, I do,” you tell him, lips twitching as your hands move lower, over his flak jacket, towards his belt. “You’re the Mandalorian.” You lean up and against him so that your mouth hovers near his cowled neck. “And I’m the Apprentice.”

And that’s when you realize he’s hard, and that’s not a weapon but a bulge in his pants pressing against your hip through the fabric of his pants. Gods above, you think, he’s big there too, and now you’re wondering if this is a good idea even as you crowd your body against his.

His hands settle on your shoulders, and you wonder if he’s about to push you away, but then they drift around your back and slink lower, fingers pressing into your spine. Gentle. And then Mando grabs your ass with both hands and pulls you roughly against him, and your breath is arrested in your lungs.

The sound that comes out of the vocabulator you can only compare to a growl, and he squeezes your ass, roughly kneading the firm flesh under his fingers. He’s so strong he’s practically lifting you from the deck, and you have to stand on tip-toe and lean wholly against his body to stay upright.

“Mesh’la,” he murmurs, soft and reverent, at odds with the rumble in his voice, and you wonder what the word - Mando’a, probably - means. But you don’t have time to ask, because that’s when you hear it.

Peli calling for you.

“Girl!” Her voice drifts to you from outside the ship, and the Mandalorian freezes. “Girl, got those parts you wanted for the heating coils. Get down here!”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Mando lets you go and the litany repeats in your head. “Fuck,” you echo it aloud. Then he grabs your jaw in one wide, covered hand.

“This isn’t over,” he tells you. You stare into the blackness of the visor and slowly, you nod. He releases you and you fall back, trying not to pant like a wanton loth cat, and you thank the Stars.

“I’ll be back,” you tell him as you head towards the ladder on shaky legs. As you turn to clamber down it, you watch Mando as he settles in the pilot’s seat, facing away from you, but you can see the tension in his posture, in the set of his shoulders as the helm turns to one to glance back at you.

“I’m counting on it,” he says. And you grin to yourself as you grab the sides of the ladder and slide down it, landing on your feet, and rush to meet your boss at the bottom of the ramp.

She notices the flush in your skin or the spring in your step straight away, and purses her lips knowingly and frowns at you as she hands over the components.

“What took you so long?” she asks suspiciously. “What were you doin’ up there?”

“Oh, you know,” you say breezily. “Just offerin’ my services.”

Peli’s pursed lips wrinkle further, if that’s even possible.

“I’m gonna go see if the baby’s awake,” she tells you. “He’s due a feed. You - you just get that ship fixed ‘fore you go tryin’ to fix anythin’ else.” Her gaze is pointed.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I mean it!” she calls over her shoulder as she walks away. “I ain’t payin’ you to have fun!”

You laugh all the way back up the ramp.

---

Taglist: @hugs-for-din, @casssiopeia, @casssiopeia, @herefortheart, @shannaniganss, @sofithewitch, @mandosbitches

Feel free to request to be added/removed from the taglist!

#the mandalorian fanfic #the apprentice #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you #mando/you

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albino-whumpee · 4 years ago

Text

Robowhump 8

What even is following prompts anyways. Using “Program override” and “vital component damage” for some of Ian´s backstory. TW// emotional neglect, gaslight,

Ian remembered liking robots from a very young age.

They weren´t exactly alive, but they moved! They talked! They would do anything you told them to without getting tired! And they wouldn´t leave you alone when they went to work.

His mother was out already when he woke up and would come home after he was already asleep. So he barely saw her on weekends. His father was home more often and it was thanks to him that he had picked up coding as a hobby. But Ian had the feeling his father forgot he existed sometimes.

“That´s a nice toy Ian! Did mom give it to you?” he once asked while they were having breakfast. Ian remembered blinking at him and then at the car toy on his hands.

“It was young Ian´s Christmas gift from you, sir” one of the butler robots replied for him.

“…Right. True” He whispered. He tried switching the subject “And how´s school?”

“…It´s summer dad” Ian responded after a second, before lifting himself up and walking to his room.

After closing the door, Ian breathed in deeply, put on his headphones and kept working on his summer project: a broken butler android.

Ian was determined to fix what his mother had been very upset when it broke. It was her own butler robot as there was one for Ian alone and one for his father. If he fixed it for her… Maybe she would be proud of him.

Maybe she would be more interested in being with him.

He worked hard day and night, but when he was finally a second away of fixing it, on a Friday night, he noticed one component was completely fried and would need a new one.

It was a nitro liquid cooler. Not a vital object but it certainly avoided the android from overheating. Ian remembered seeing one at his father´s office and left the android with its chest open and the million cables on the floor to get it.

He went down the stairs and heard his mother´s car. He rushed to his father´s office and searched through the perfectly organized drawers. It was fairly quick as Ian knew it was a 8TL-9067 model and his father kept the components drawers organized by function. But he didn´t find it on a drawer but on plain view on his desk.

Ian took it on his hands and ran upstairs to put it on the android, careful to not bump into her. He adjusted the cables and closed the android´s chest before connecting the neural cable to its nape deck. Then he swiped out his tablet and hit “Install”.

He waited with his lips made a thin line.

The android´s eyes opened up with a pitch black color. Numbers upon numbers showing until it closed them and stopped doing anything. Ian waited a second but the black haired android wouldn´t move.

“No…” Ian said pulling his tablet back up with short breath “It should work! Why aren´t you…?” but the android threw its eyes open making him jump and hit his head against the edge of the desk. “OUCH!” he whined as he covered his head with his hands.

“Young…Ian?” The android asked staring at the boy in front of it. There was a certain fear on its voice. But Ian´s eyes sparkled

“Run a quick diagnostic!” he ordered the machine, excited his efforts had worked.

“But young Ian your head…” It tried lifting its hands towards him. Ian smacked them away.

“I´m fine. Quick, do a diagnostic!” The android´s eyes blinked twice before it spoke again.

“Diagnostic complete. Cero errors found” It said without tone before Ian pulled one of its arms to lift it up.

“You´re heavy!” The android stood up as Ian opened the door impaciently and ran through the hall “C´mon quick!” Ian yelled taking its hand and running to her room “I need to- she needs to see you! Before she falls asleep!” he said pulling with the short arms of a child.

“Young Ian I don´t think she-” it started when Ian slammed the door to her room open.

There she was with her lustrous black hair falling over her back with blue icy eyes fixed on the drink on her hand, sitting on the chair next to the room´s balcony.

“Mom!” the kid said pulling the android closer. It simply let itself be pulled until the boy let go of its hand and showed it to her with a smile on his face. “Look! Mom, I made it! I fixed Yari!” he practically yelled. Not letting his eyes off her.

She took a sip of her drink with a disgusted face “why?” that wasn´t a response the kid expected “Its nitro cooler got fried up, I made the others throw it away because buying another android was easier and…” that´s when she realized “Did you steal a nitro component from your father, Ian?” she asked him with a tilt of her head. The kid struggled to say anything and she stood up with a sigh. “That´s no good Ian, you should have asked first. Do you even know if he needs it for something else?” The android sensed her hands reaching to its chest and closed its eyes when it felt Ian push himself in front.

“I-I know he´s not gonna use it! He told me… but, mom, aren´t you happy he´s fixed? You were mad he got broken…” the kid said putting his hands up protectively.

His mother looked at him in a funny way.

“Oh I see what´s this. But no, I´m not gonna praise you for fixing the robot you broke, Ian” the woman said making the kid lower his arms. “Much less if you steal the pieces from your father´s workshop. Now do a good thing and take it out and put it back on its place” she ordered the kid taking his hand and putting it on the robot´s abdomen.

“I didn´t mean to break him…” he said. Yari couldn´t deny that. He had tried to upgrade it but the program was very buggy and forced it into a state of heating until it stopped moving. “I´m sorry…” the kid said lifting the skin of the android to see the metal below.

“It´s ok, young Ian” the android said giving the boy a pat on the head.

“Don´t touch him” She ordered the robot who yanked its hand away in a hurry. “He needs to know he can´t put his hands on other people´s stuff” she said sipping on her drink again “I would have helped you with the update if you had asked me, Ian, that way I wouldn´t have to throw it away” she said.

“I´m sorry, mom…” he said touching the nitro cooler.

“Turn off Yari” she said, the android obeyed the command not before giving the kid a small smile. Ian took the cooler from the robot and… it splattered.

All over her white dress.

“I´m sorry, I´m sorry, mom!” he said rushing to clean it with a tissue on Yari´s pocket, when his mother simply sighed and snatched the clothe with a loud exasperated sigh.

“Really Ian?” she threw a glare at the kid “Aren´t you useful? Yari would be envious of that” she said cleaning herself as the kid bulked. Silent frustration tears rolled down his cheeks. She snorted “This is why I prefer machines. Perfect machines don´t cry” she said mercilessly, giving up on trying to clean herself “Just go to your room” she said before shushing the kid away.

Ian went to his room and stayed there until his own father went there searching for the component two days later.

He took it and went away without saying a word.

So when Ian´s own butler showed up again at morning with his breakfast, he threw a lamp to its head.

“Young Ian?” it said blankly, milk dripping over its face.

“Oh…” he went fixing himself up. Then he stared at the liquid on its face “On your knees” he ordered the android. It did as it was told “Machines can cry, mom” he grabbed the bowl of cereal and poured it over it “If you know how to”

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niqhtlord01 · 5 years ago

Text

Humans are weird: Super Soldiers

Recorder: *Muffled inaudible sounds* Volhime: This is investigator Volhime questioning prisoner 11375 Unknown: I have a name you know. Recorder: *Sound of guard smacking prisoner* Volhime: The prisoner will not speak unless addressed directly. Unknow: *Cough* Whatever you say bitch. Recorder: *Sound of guard smacking prisoner again* Volhime: These recordings will follow the interrogation of prisoner 11375 after their capture on the human world of HG75, also known in their language as “Freehold”. Volhime: Prisoner 11375, please state your name and profession. Prisoner 11375: I could but I have a feeling this jackass next to me is just going to smack me again. Recorder: *Guard smacks prisoner 11375* Prisoner 11375: *coughs* Called it..... Volhime: Please answer the questions directly. Prisoner 11375: *Sighs* My name is Joseph Maker, and I was head researcher at the Vale Foundation facility on Freehold. Volhime: You were captured at the facility during the invasion and caught in the act of destroying valuable documents. Joseph: Is that a question or a statement? Recorder: *Another smack from guard* Joseph: This will go a lot faster if you leash your attack dog here from striking me every time I say something he doesn’t like, because I’m going to be saying a lot of that. Recorder: *Muffled sounds and alien speech* Volhime: What documents were you destroying? Joseph: Research data, records, personnel files, browser history’s. Volhime: Would that information pertain to... Recorder: *Sound of pages being flipped* Volhime: “Project Crow”? Joseph: They were. Volhime: Can you explain in detail what the project was? Joseph: Take it you didn’t get any intact files then from my lab you fuckers ruined. Volhime: Explain in detail what project crow is. Joseph: Project Crow was the combination of genetic, augmentation, and robotic engineering research coming together to create a super soldier. Volhime: To be used against our empire? Joseph: No, to mow my lawn and shine my shoes. Joseph: Of course to be used against you alien fucks! Volhime: What exactly is “super” about these soldiers? Joseph: Combining centuries of knowledge of the human body and the latest technological advancements, we set out to alter the average human soldier on the genetic level and then further augment them with machine components. Volhime: What genetic alterations? Joseph: Enhancing natural human abilities while combining them with favorable animal traits. Volhime: Such as? Joseph: Human enhancements would include faster wound mending, improved blood flow, condensing of bones to be hard as diamonds, increasing lung capacity, increasing muscle density, etc. Volhime: How would these have affected the war with our people? Joseph: Well for starters when one of your toy soldiers tried to stab a subject of project crow their blade wouldn’t even break the skin. Volhime: *Writes down notes* Volhime: And the animal traits? Joseph: Regrowing missing limbs, enhanced sense of smell and night vision, ability to lower body temperature, thermal vision, adaptive camouflage- Volhime: I remind you that failure to speak truthfully will result in more extreme measures of interrogation. Joseph: I’m being entirely honest with you. Volhime: I find it hard to believe that you could combine so many alterations into a human without side effects. Joseph: The first few test subjects didn’t handle the treatments well. Joseph: Organ failure was common, but we were unable to operate as their skin became so hard we had nothing that could have pierced their skin. Joseph: Animal traits also needed to be spliced with human genes on a microscopic level otherwise they wouldn’t bond and the human body would begin attacking itself. Joseph: After several failures we were able to bypass such setbacks. Volhime: I assume these subjects were prisoners? Joseph: No, military volunteers. Volhime: What kind of soldier would risk themselves with such experimental procedures? Joseph: The desperate kind. You should know, your people pushed mine to that point. Volhime: *silence, more note taking* Volhime: You mentioned augmentation as well. List out the procedures. Joseph: The genetic modifications resolved most of the issues we had with reinforcing the human body, so we focused the technical augmentations to embed various weapons throughout the body. Volhime: Would the human body not reject them? Joseph: Normally they would, but we were able to rewrite portions of the genetic template to list these alterations as natural. Volhime: This must be false. Your race lacks the understanding to perform such complex modifications. Joseph: We know more about our bodies than you think, have known for years. We’ve just lacked the technology to implement our understandings until a few years ago. Volhime: What was the purpose of these super soldiers? Joseph: I’ll tell you if you answer a few questions of my own. Recorder: *Sounds of a guard approaching to smack prisoner only to be waved away* Volhime: Very well. What is your question. Joseph: When you captured my facility there were other members of my staff with me, are they present in this facility? Volhime: We captured roughly thirty members of the research division including yourself. They are being interrogated here as well. Joseph: And where is here exactly? Volhime: You on our homeworld, the most secure location in our entire empire. Do not think of escaping. Joseph: Oh, I’d never dream of it. Volhime: Now, what was the purpose of project crow. Joseph: To create super soldiers that could infiltrate enemy lines and eliminate high ranking individuals. Volhime: *Chuckles* Volhime: It’s a good thing we stopped before you could create any. Joseph: I wouldn’t say that. Volhime: You mean you actually created a super soldier. Joseph: More like “soldiers” since there was more than one successful implementation. Volhime: Where are they now? Who are their targets?!?! Joseph: As for the who it’s mostly your high ranking generals, political leaders, and support teams stationed far behind enemy lines. Joseph: As for the where you should already know. Joseph: You transported all thirty super soldiers right to your front door and invited them in for a chat. Volhime: Wh- Recorder: *Sound of ripping clothing followed by several shouts* Recorder: *Sounds of long metal object protruding from flesh and slicing shouting guards* Recorder: *Sirens begin blaring, pounding on door and shouting of Volhime in background* Recorder: *Shouting suddenly interrupted by cracking of bone and tearing of metal doors* Record ends...........

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #super soldiers #infiltration #augmentation

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thecagedsong · 5 years ago

Text

Cool, so one of my fandoms is having a really bad day, and since I care about Fablehaven until this monster of a fanfic gets finished, how about some wholesome meta? I don’t really care what the drama was about, so don’t tell me. We’re all a little high strung, and I tend to take disagreements personally in a way that I’m working on, and don’t need to be involved in.

Now that that disclaimer is out of the way, who wants to talk about the Five crowns? Because I had a 14 hour car ride yesterday, listening to the second half of Evening Star and Shadow Plague, and I am so ready to let you all in on the code I cracked. I found the unifying magic diagram of the Fablehaven verse. The key to ultimate satisfaction, and if there was a magic research journal in universe, I would post this in and win the Top Magic Nerd of this Century award. My goal is to make this as accepted canon as possible, because I am ridiculously right. No characters involved, so no drama except of the scolastic kind, relying on heavy references to canon.

Ready?

SO, I made a pretty big claim. But I’ve been toying with this theory since before Dragonwatch three came out. I need some reviews before I inform Brand Mull that I’ve cracked his secret and won the game. If this symbol isn’t on the spine of the Journal of Secrets, what is even the point.

A good symbol does three things: identifies the pieces you are dealing with, helps the viewer reach a new understanding about the pieces, and map onto the cultural understandings of the audience. aka a cross with four quadrants of airplane, mitochondria, love, and toe nails is a terrible symbol. See common memes for usually pretty good symbols and graphs.

So you got five crowns right? That means you have a pentagon and a five pointed star, and the biggest trick was figuring out where each crown went, and how they related to each other.

Examine five-part belief systems, see where the crowns match, unifying symbol explains everything, move on. Easy.

NO.

You wanna know why?

BECAUSE FIVE POINTED STARS AS SYMBOLS ARE MORE WORTHLESS THAN AAA BATTERIES FOR WATCHING TELEVISION

Okay, a bit of an exaggeration, obviously they are very useful for things like organizing systems within a single body. Who functions as the head, the shield arm, the pivot foot, etc. But the point of that diagram is that they are equally important and dependent to every other part. Which doesn’t work when the different groups keep trying to break each other’s kneecaps (see b5: fairies v demons).

It also falls apart on the five-piece cultural scale. The most well-known 5-piece cultural scale is obviously the chinese elements: Fire Wood Water Metal Earth.

Now, I don’t pretend to be an expert on those at all. But it all broke down on fire, TBH. Were dragons fire? But a large point was that their breath weapons weren’t always fire. Were demons fire? Even the ones covered in sludge. Were demons earth? Was the underking earth? All I got were fairies as water, in the end. If someone wants to give that a go, be my guest.

I drew so many pentagrams trying to figure it out, and it never worked. No matter the arrangement, it never told me more about the crowns except that there were five of them. I was about to despair.

But then the muses sang: The Forgotten Crown.

(That’s the title of my thesis, btw)

Like I said, five pointed stars were trash for this system, but what if I added another crown, one that no one bothers to count, because by their nature, they can’t do anything. That’s right:

The Forgotten Crown of the Fair Folk.

The symbol slipped into place like sharp pointy things into Warren. And now I can get to the real meta after sharing this image:

Isn’t it beautiful? After I cracked this code, I showed it to my little sister. She smiled contentedly, calling it satisfying. It is so satisfying. It speaks to so many levels of understanding.

First, I depicted for you, we have the morality and the terrain triangles.

Morality triangle is the easiest, if you feel uncomfortable labeling drown-happy naiads as good and all demons as evil, congrats, thinking about the nature of good and evil is precisely what Mull was going for. Since I am suddenly one of those people, I’m going to be using the creation/destruction dichotomy, but acknowledge that both of those work.

Fairies can be most easily understood when Kendra asked the Fairy Queen what she should do with her life. She’s an unlimited fount of the Fairy Queen’s own power, allowed to do whatever she wants, and the Fairy Queen tells her to nurture life. Be fruitful, put good things in the world, help people grow. Their goal is to create, their magic is defensive, beauty is wonderful for its own sake. The better you are at respecting and nurturing life, the stronger your magic is. Dryads are responsible for the whole forest, and throughout the series they are seen as more powerful and serious than fairies, which can make the plants they interact with grow and hamadryads, who are connected only to their tree. Certainly more powerful than the petty, waterbound naiads.

Ganalus’s speech to Seth about his own nature is where you can understand demons in this world. They like to destroy and torture, they find amusement in things like plague and clipping live beings to their belts and dragging them around. They are driven by the need for more power and control. Their nature is to harm and break apart, and that has its place in this world, but we care about the stuff and people here, so mortals and fairies have got to keep these punks in check.

And of course, the Fair Folk. Here’s where this triangle gets fun. The worst of the worst gets to be Demon King, the best of the best get stronger fairy powers. That means the most neutral of the neutral get to be the leader of the Fair Folk. We’ve heard references to the main city of the Fair Folk: Selona, somewhere in Europe, and a mysterious exert that I’ve seen images of with Lord Dagrel that I’m trying to pin down. I’m posing that their powers come from being neutral. They talk about the terrible consequences of the last time they went to war, what if it the equivalent of their fallen state, when they break their neutrality, and changes them fundamentally.

This breaks down the most, but they are the Forgotten Crown for a reason. They hold themselves apart from issues of the other crowns. No one even remembers that they have a crown, because as Seth and Celebrant have shown, who cares? They aren’t going to do anything about it. Everyone collectively forgot/don’t care about them. But their abilities are equal in strength to the others, but different in use, and less valued by those who have battles to fight. Their neutrality puts them exactly between good and evil, creation and destruction. They take the choice not to act, and there is power there too.

Next is the Terrain Creatures.

Sky giants control the sky, obviously. Thronis and his ability to control the weather, their height, while their feet are on the ground, far as we know, everything important happens in the sky.

Underking gets under the ground, again, obvious. Different from the other two points of the terrain triangle in that there is a lot of creature classifactions in their domain, but think of how big the surface of the earth is, underneath it, all theirs.

Dragons, they dwell in the sky and below the surface, putting them in both. Water dragons and Dromadus both primarily function beneath the surface, and their wings let them be in the sky. while not stronger necessarily than the other terrain crowns in their own domains, they are top of the food chain for the creatures living on the ground, and could probably take out the undead that venture near the surface, and I have high hopes for seeing a Sky Giant v Dragon in the next book.

Cool, we got our organization of information. We learn something about them based on their placements within the triangles. But is that our symbol? No! Symbols are different than graphs, we should be able to squeeze ridiculous amounts of meaning from them, and we aren’t done yet. The two triangles map really, really well together.

What does the placement of the two triangles together tell us about the individual components?

a WHOLE TON. This is what makes this symbol the most satisfying, the triangles create two separate categorizations of their powers and abilities, but they inform each other. The morality of the terrain beings, and the domains of morality beings.

Dragons run the whole spectrum from creation to destruction. We see a lot more of the destruction dragons, because our kids are in a war, but Raxtus hits really close to the Fairies and can heal and grow with his breath weapon. We also have wizards, who chose mortality for the ability to use magic to create. All the way to effing Navarog, honorary demon. They run every shade of the creation/destruction spectrum. We also see dragons that don’t depend on destruction because we know that there are some that agreed to behave if it meant they weren’t shoved into sanctuaries.

Sky giants, the group we know the least about, are good enough that their queen was deemed able to be the caretaker of a dragon sanctuary, so no inherent thirst for destruction and chaos. But they run the neutral side of creation, they weren’t going to step in to stop the demons, they like magic and creating from what we know of thronis, but they fit right here.

Underking - fall between neutral destruction. The underking wasn’t orchestrating the opening of the demon prison. They crave life, its a food source, but more than that, they want to endure. They might fall closer to demons in their taste for extinguishing life, but they need their wanting of life to continue existing. They might have individual prizes and desires for life, but because they depend on wanting life for their own continued existence, they will never organize themselves into taking over the world. Congrats, you’re only half as destructive as demons.

The morality on the terrain is much easier to see blatantly. Fairies have wings, but in no way do they control the sky, and they live on the ground. Demons...I’m sure some of them fly, but they tend to prefer caves like Granulas and pits like Jubaya and Kurisok. Prefer the night, though the light doesn’t harm them. Fittingly, the Fair Folk do not have the ability to fly on their own, and they live on the ground, not under it.

sO SATISFying how those fit together. Are you weeping yet? This is harmony on the organizational level.

But I claimed this was the perfect symbol, the ultimate. There is one more layer describing how every piece relates to every other piece, per the best symbols.

Opposites

This is the least defined level of interaction, and each line is unique, while still being opposite its counterpart. We’ll start with the ones we have the least information about and go from there.

Demon/sky giant: We know nothing, at the moment. They have never commented on each other, and have never interacted. Why didn’t sky giants show up to the Zzyzx party? Who knows! So I’m going to speculate here, and propose that they just really can’t stand each other’s presence. Demons stay away from sky giants, because giants are way bigger than them, and it is hard to feel powerful when you only come up to their knee, and sky giants don’t like demons because...eww, demons.

Fair Folk/Dragon: We know that there are Fair Folk at all seven dragon sanctuaries. We know that the Fair Folk were there long before the sanctuaries were created. Fair Folk neutrality let both parties trust the dragons to part of their watch. It also seems that Dragons have a very difficult time staying neutral. We’ve seen a lot of flavors of dragon, but the one flavor we haven’t seen, possibly by its nature, is a neutral dragon. The closest we came was Dromadus, who was an abstaining pacifist for two books, but kept lending help to the innocent and those aligned with the innocent. His neutrality broke literally the week someone asked him to break it.

Fascinatingly, the talents of the Fair Folk are actually the closest analog to the breath weapons of the dragons. One unique ability, can be augmented by training, can do something unique to the characteristics of the user. This is enough to make their uses of magic foils for each other in ways that they can’t be with the other races. In fact, they take human shape, their wizards act a lot like the talents of the Fair Folk.

Their final opposite string: physical appearance. Fair Folk are attractive (symetrical) humans. Dragons are hulking reptiles of scale and claw meant to let everyone who can see them know who is the top predator around. Fair folk are disarmingly beautiful.

Fairy/Underking: The dichotomy that we know the most about because it’s the one the protagonists find themselves on opposite side of. I could double the length of this post talking about these opposite foils, but this is already ridiculously long, so I’ll keep it brief. Consult upcoming thesis for full analysis.

Most obvious aspect of this line? They literally cannot co-exist, one must overpower the other. Nova Songs are consumed by darkness, while crown-fueled Kendra literally turns the undead into bones and dust. The darkness and light can’t balance like the demon cursed area + Fairy shrine stone did in Shadow Plague, there is no middle ground.

While fairies and demons make the creation-destruction spectrum, Fairy and Underking make the Life-death line. Unicorns, who have so much life and youth that lectoblixes overdose to death on them, and the undead that give up the joys light and live to continue. Because Death lasts as long as life.

And finally my favorite line of opposites, their crowns functions in exactly the opposite ways. The under-crown does not share power. It accumulates, you become one of consciousness of the crown. They swallow you up, and you will never take power from them. They will continue. Meanwhile the Fairy crown has had several owners, as identified by Risenmay in dw2. And the Fairy Crown shares magic in a way that the other crowns don’t. The fairy Queen shared her magic with Kendra, yes, but she also shared it with her husband. All the male fairies fell with the Fairy King, turning permanently into imps. Unless the Fairy Queen isn’t being honest about how that happened, that meant that the male half of the kingdom was under the authority of her husband when he fell. Which makes sense for this crown. One person can’t make a new person on their own, they have to have a male and a female genetic coding. For the crown that is all about creating and preserving life, that power isn’t meant to be wielded alone. The Fairy crown can share, can give, while the Undercrown can consume and take. They are complete opposites in this.

Conclusion

Thank you for reading through this preliminary thesis. Counterpoints, additions, and commentary are welcome. I want to flesh this out a little more before sending my transcendent, beautiful, unifying symbol to Mull and have him announce that I have officially cracked the code. Really tho, the fact that I can pull this together into a unifying symbol is pretty cool in terms of Mull’s worldbuilding.

Well...only works if he acknowledges the forgotten crown. Dragonwatch 5: the Crown of Selona. I can’t wait.

#Fablehaven #Dragonwatch #meta #five crowns #the Forgotten crown #Dragons #Sky Giants #Fairies #Underking #Fairy Queen #Demon King #Demons #Fair Folk

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nonbinarybrainstorm · 5 years ago

Note

soundwave x brainstorm - phone sex?

Ok, so… not exactly phone-sex, pretty un-phone-sex like BUT it does have some of that component?

You know how sometimes you’re writing something another cool idea is brought out through your writing and you’re like “ooooo”? That happened. So it started as a phone-sex thing and then evolved.

If you want just straight -up phone-sex lmk and I will write it for you this one was my b

anywho

Additional Content: exhibition (consensual), sex toys, dom/sub?, maybe pet play? I’m not sure if it’s pet play, probably pet play, masturbation

enjoy!

Bullet-proof glass curves into a cylinder around Brainstorm on his raised platform and sealed off into the ceiling that has the trap door he entered from, not trapped but protected from his eager audience of hungry optics of Decepticons, Neutrals, and Autobots disguised as Neutrals alike. They are, all of them, on edge, leaning forward or gripping the edge of their seats tightly in anticipation for the show to begin. Brainstorm looks around nervously at them all, rubbing at the dark blue collar around his neck that let everyone there know he wasn’t theirs for the taking. They could look but they couldn’t touch or have him. He settles onto his knees and waits for Soundwave’s voice to come over the comm.

“Are you ready?”

Brainstorm shivers at the voice and looks up at the one-way mirror he knew Soundwave was behind, watching over him and nods.

“Good,” Soundwave practically purrs, “Remember, if you want out just say ‘Elysium’ as we discussed.”

“I remember,” Brainstorm mutters, his optics once again scanning the audience.

“First, take off your mask and set it aside,” the command comes easily, millennia of giving orders to soldiers and more than enough practice in the bedroom gives easy confidence to Soundwave’s words.

Brainstorm obeys, raising one hand to take off his mask with a soft “click” and sets it against the glass and waits for his next order.

“Open your panels and spread your legs for me, I want to see you,” Soundwave says in that low tone he knows Brainstorm loves and it’s more than easy for Brainstorm to obey.

His panels snap open, revealing his valve and unpressurized spike, the cold air sending a shiver through him. The figures around him shift and crowd in closer to him, their optics glowing brightly in the darkness that surrounds them, the only light being the ring around the base of Brainstorm’s prison shining up at him.

“Rub around your spike cover, let yourself pressurize slowly,” the words come over the comm slowly and sweetly like they were dipped in sweetened energon.

Brainstorm leans back against the glass, pushing against it with one hand as he slowly circles his spike cover with one finger until the head of his spike pokes through. His vents turn into soft pants as he rubs the head of his spike, gradually coxing his spike out until it’s fully pressurized in his hand. Tilting his head back, he strokes his spike as his wings flutter against the glass, clicking and tapping erratically.

“Stop playing with your spike,” Soundwave commands sharply and Brainstorm stops cold.

He lifts his head back up as he takes his hand off his spike and pushes himself up from the glass, pushing his hands against the glass walls to keep himself steady. Panting heavily now, he side-eyes his audience all eagerly drinking in the sight of him, some even beginning to pleasure themselves as he kneels there, spike pressurized and twitching in the open for all of them to see.

“Play with your node,” a much more affected demand comes over the channel which serves to boost Brainstorm’s ego further.

Spreading his legs more, Brainstorm reaches down and starts rubbing circles onto his node while pushing against the wall.

“Slower,” Soundwave grits through the comm and Brainstorm shakes with the effort to obey him.

Charge and pleasure are already peaking along his sensornet so he struggles to keep his hand slow despite his desire to chase his overload. His hips jerk against his hand involuntarily with each brush against a sweet spot. Losing his balance, he leans forward to rest his head against his forearm as he continues to play with himself, moaning quietly now. Eventually, it becomes too much as his legs shake uncontrollably and he pulls his hand away to close his legs, writhing where he kneels while biting his lip. He moans and pants against the glass as he rubs his legs together, so close to overloading and yet not able to get enough to overload, nowhere near enough.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” Soundwave softly scolds and Brainstorm leans back to continue playing with his node, “Are you close to overloading?”

“Yes!” Brainstorm cries out louder than he meant to and sees his audience jolt with the admission.

“Do you want to overload?” Soundwave purrs, the sound of it pushing Brainstorm closer to the edge.

“Yes, please,” Brainstorm pants out and sees one mech overload right then and there, “I want to so badly.”

“Very well, overload for me.”

Brainstorm lets himself go at the command, chasing his overload until the tight heat building in his array releases and he throws his head back in a shout. Transfluid jets from his spike, marring the glass in a thick mess as lubricant drips from his valve onto the metal beneath him. He vents deeply as he comes back from his overload to greet a see of dim optics and satisfied looking frames all still waiting, still hungry for more.

“Lovely.”

The word crashes over Brainstorm, making him shiver and look up to the one-way mirror with hooded optics, so happy that he can please his Soundwave.

“We’re not done yet, my pet,” Soundwave sounds excited and breathless over the comms, making Brainstorm moan eagerly, “The false spike next to you…”

Brainstorm looks to the side and picks up the large, purple false spike, seeing the mechs around him perk up with excitement as he does so.

“Cover it with the bottled lube.”

Brainstorm squeezes out some lube onto his hand then smears it onto the tip of the false spike before spreading it down over the length and bringing his hand slowly up again.

“Ride it,” comes Soundwave’s choked command, “Go at whatever speed you want, I just want to see you overload again.”

Brainstorm pulls the false spike towards himself and lifts up on his knees to push the head of the false spike against his valve and begins to sink onto it. The head pushes past his folds and into his entrance as he slowly lowers himself, moaning and closing his optics. It’s a tight fit and he has to let himself adjust to it slowly but he manages to take it until it presses against his interior node. He pauses, gasping for cool air as his cooling fans blast at full speed, feeling hot and hazy with pleasure. Moving his hips up, he lowers himself back down experimentally and finding no discomfort he begins riding the false spike in earnest. Gradually, he speeds up, letting his helm fall back and his optics lose focus as he balances himself with his hands pushed against the glass on either side of him. He rides it faster, letting himself practically fall onto the spike so it’s forced into his valve all the while moaning and crying out in pleasure.

“You’re so beautiful, my pet,” Soundwave moans, the sound filling Brainstorm’s processor and bringing him over the edge.

His frame goes stiff, his valve clenching down hard onto the false spike as he overloads and his spike releases more transfluid, staining the glass again to the great pleasure of the crowd around him. Brainstorm slumps back with deep vents and drags the false spike from his valve, leaving himself exposed for all to see. Just moments later, Soundwave comes down the stairs, optics bright from post-overload. He comes up to the platform and the glass containing Brainstorm lifts away so Soundwave can scoop him up into his arms and carry him away. They leave with cheers and kudos following them, some reeling back in surprise to see Soundwave of all mechs be the one to retrieve Brainstorm. The trip to the private quarters Soundwave is renting is a short one which Brainstorm is grateful for because that means a much shorter time before he’s put under warm solvent.

Soundwave undoes the collar and sets it aside before carrying Brainstorm to the large washracks, cleaning him off with a gentle touch, almost reverent in his care for Brainstorm. By the end of it, Brainstorm has regained enough strength he can walk on his own and heads to the berthroom after Soundwave. Along the way, he spots the blue collar and snags it, putting it back on again before laying on the berth next to Soundwave. The collar, not being a particularly inconspicuous thing, is immediately noticed by Soundwave.

“You know you don’t have to wear the collar now,” Soundwave reminds him gently, tracing one finger over the smooth surface of the collar.

“I know,” Brainstorm looks away bashfully, “I just like wearing it.”

Soundwave kisses his cheek then his lips and presses his forehelm against Brainstorm’s.

“Whatever you desire, my love,” Soundwave whispers and pulls Brainstorm close.

Brainstorm snuggles into Soundwave and, together, they fall into deep recharge.

#valveplug #brainstorm #soundwave #brainwave #nubbs writes #Anonymous

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vvolgarov · 4 years ago

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I’m thinking about all of my neurodivergent characters and how they overall deal with their mental illnesses and whether It impacts them greatly or all of It is really in the middle. Or, really -- I’m in a rambley mood, so I will pretty much sputter anything that comes to mind.

I would say Barnaby, in comparison to Seiko has more ability to manage his ADHD (combined type) considering the fact he takes proper medication at the right dosage after trying out a few variations of medication prior and eventually finding one that is fitting best.

He has been medicated for quite a while, so there are very rare scenarios that one would end up seeing him behave irrationally or have a mental breakdown. The only thing that might occur is a rapid wave of anger that leads to him ranting everything that comes in mind.

While he may start off with expressing his agitation towards what someone did to him to lead him to that temperament, It would eventually steer to his annoyance towards Lada model cars -- then to anything else that he was ticked off over the last week. He just ... Really hates those models of cars. Thinks they’re stupid and difficult to fix.

Other that, he is a very hyper-fixated individual when It comes to his field as a mechanic. It’s UNKNOWN how many times he has reread the same pieces of literature, instruction manuals and engineering text books before he managed to memorize the good percentage of the information provided there and garnered a knack for constructing toys into old metal scraps or managing to fix even the most egregious types of auto-vehicles and manage to bring them out for a second life.

One day he wishes to have an apprentice that would be as dedicated as him to the field and he could teach them about auto-mechanics or even teach his student how to build toys out of scraps. It’s just ... Something for Barnaby about wanting to give toys for children so they could have something to play with.

In a way, this love for children and his want to make them happy comes from his guardian (in a way, adoptive- SECOND mother ) who learned how to do arts and crafts in the hopes to improve Barnaby’s development by opening up his creative mind from when he was very young. As you can see, the effort really paid off.

Seiko Valentis, along with his twin (a character no longer available for writing, but DOES exist) are autistic. They have inherited autism from their father who is a bio-engineer and was behind the ability to make their biological mother fertile enough to give birth to the twins.

Haruki Valentis -- A much shorter sibling and carrying the better gene of a snake person than a wolf, is the one that portrays their autism in a bit more subtle ways from now on. It was known that when Haruki resided with an adoptive family, he had mutism for quite some time and speech therapy was no of help up until he personally chose to be more communicative in later years.

His adoptive family were patient plenty with his development and aimed to make him rather comfortable -- and the young man gradually picked up on this fact and cooperated with his family. Now he has an internship at an office company that is oriented about graphic design and developing logo-tips, or animated animations for advertisements.

Seiko, on the other hand -- While he wasn’t deemed as the runt twin, his life came with trouble from the early beginning and his biological mother struggled with him the most. Her lack of patience to his development made him rather disinterested in being communicative even as a toddler, although eventually he naturally began to pick up words and speak. And, picked them up quite rapidly and caught up to his peers during kindergarten.

He only started to properly speak at the age of three (3), If not a bit when he was closer to becoming four (4) years old. The rest of the years he was relatively a behaved child, though had his moments of meltdowns when finding a situation too overwhelming to tolerate. Though with all those situations in mind, he wasn’t diagnosed up until the ripe age of 20.

All of his negative behaviors ended up being misinterpreted as a result of bad parenting -- His mother was impatience and was moody overall, she had time to bicker with him and Seiko was able to talk back without getting tired until he deemed the situation uninteresting or won the argument. This started to come around when he was eight (8) years old up until he was ten-eleven (10-11.)

Then, -- When a well-known scenario occured --

When he was given away for care by Jay’s hands, the boy became a timid shell of himself and was quite impacted by the abandonment. While Jay himself would say that the few months were difficult solely because the boy was aggressive and hostile, those reactions have stemmed out of fear and his only way of expressing the fear.

( Luckily for Seiko, his adoptive father eventually picked up on that by the help of his own family who are more better when It comes to raising youth. )

Once It became clear that anger was the key component to his expressiveness, eventually his adoptive parent, the family of his adoptive parent took their time and dedication to make him comfortable and lessen his negative reactions and have him express himself differently.

Had he not been taught this before a traumatic experience that would later have him diagnosed with PTSD (C-PTSD, to be precise), he would have dropped back to zero with a terrible state of his mental health. With good people raising after him -- while traumatized after the events, he relied on therapy plenty, was provided medication and Jay was willing to make his BEST to let the boy know he is safe under his wings.

EVEN when the wolf boy displayed delusion and depersonalization at the early stages, EVEN when Seiko ended up severely injuring Jay’s left hand that could have lead to him losing his ability have that hand function -- All was forgiven and the boy was met with warmth. Understanding. No matter how the Erblindet man internally found It all frustrating and was desperate for the mental health improvements from this young man.

In the end, It clearly worked around in the end. Seiko manages his mental health far more better and in no way autism interferes with his decision making, critical thinking. In fact, It benefited him to being able to fixate properly on his college years online and complete the course on economics and tourism.

It was a chosen field that he chose in the want to have some profession he could work for better pay and to make his adoptive father proud. (And, he did make him proud.)

At the very year, the only key issues he occasionally deals with is the depression aspect of PTSD and Autism. Often the depression makes him incapable of leaving his room for days, incapable of communication through voice and ending up relying on texting If he does want to say something.

Unsure whether the inability to communicate stems from mutism (what his twin sibling undergone) or It's simply done out of fear, fearing that his voice will attract the abuser. Nevermind the fact that he has no way in hurting Seiko anymore.

Other, less common symptoms are body armouring and delusion. There has been a relatively small chance his perception made him consider that he was being followed or being held by the person that hurt him -- This occurs when hanging out with his friends or embracing in a hug with them.

Body armouring simply means he completely tenses up his frame and lays down in a fetus position and cover his face with all muscles tensing up until dealing with exhaustion overtime.

Lastly --

Does Darius Valentis carry some form of mental illness, carry out the possibility of being autistic?

Short answer? No.

Long answer? Not exactly. He is the firstborn of the biological mother that he and the twins share, but their fathers are different. His own biological father does not inherit any form of mental illness that carries out through family.

The only gene he might carry is the greying in his early thirties. That's still irrelevant to the subject about being neurodivergent, the symptoms, the behaviours and more.

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monecyhari-blog · 5 years ago

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#Best Electronic Dog Doors

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japanstopbrawler1992 · 5 years ago

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READ ME

ZERO TOLERANCE FOR RACIST CHASERS/GAY-FOR-STRAIGHT-CONSUMPTION/OOC TRANSPHOBIA/ANY RACISM WHATSOEVER UNLESS SHOWN AS BAD BY NARRATIVE AND CONFINED TO AGREED UPON PLOTTING

I set Savers in its airing year, so Masaru was born in '92. Can take place anytime after episode 49. However, there just won't be any explicit sexual content regardless of when the thread takes place. I also don't auto-ship: I'm here to walk a character through things, so ships will all be more slow-burn. Also, while Masaru's just pan, I'm actually asexual, so don't even expect me to present beyond a textbook understanding of sexual attraction

Masaru's kind of a jerk. My other two muses are generally at least kind unless the other person isn't, but Masaru's kind of abrasive and gleefully violent. If we're playing, I'll probably warn you beforehand, but Masaru may snap at your muse if your muse isn't a little kid. If your muse didn't deserve it, he'll probably apologise at some point, but yeah, this muse is even less like me than 02's Ken (Bleach's Ichigo is my muse most like me)

I'm on mobile. Period. I can't cut threads. I usually just tag "long post." Can't cut threads.

Seen JP ver only. Haven't seen any others, and I have no reason to bother--the original's in my native. Why would I bother with "orange juice bomb"?

Masaru is mixed race here. In a planned project that's a sister project to my Bleach project I already got a bit of stuff up for, Masaru's mum is Japanese and Russian, and related to Junpei of Frontier, and Masaru's dad was Japanese and Afghani. Masaru actually does speak Japanese, Russian, and Persian.

Masaru's also trans here. He never got puberty blockers, but he finally got testosterone at 13. So his voice changed at a pretty normal age. But he does need a binder and all that. (He loved that black tank top he wears after the memory wipe because it was just the right cut to cover the binder while showing off his arm muscles!) He does someday want kids, and Japanese law, like most US states or most places, requires sterilisation to recognise gender change. His papers also say a different first name. Of course, this probably came up with Satuma. Satuma and payroll at DATS probably know all about it. But being trans isn't *as* hard in Japan as the Anglophonic world. Especially thanks to Kamikawa Aya advocating on outlets like NHK radio since '95, which Masaru would be three then.

I toss the epilogue. Don't like the losing their digimon, and Masaru ditching his family he feels so responsible for and his dad he just got back?

Actually, in my project, ep 48 never happens. Suguru is dead, DATS remains, and Sayuri gets BanchouLeomon as her digimon partner.

Oh, another rule--poor spelling and grammar is acceptable if you are not a native speaker. It infuriates me to no end that I'm supposed to be an idiot for being fluent in three just because English is not my first, but native speakers get to run around spelling "bins" "ben's" and congratulating themselves for "kohnichuwa" but I get beaten/decried for actually knowing the language... And also, ,ZERO TOLERANCE for "garnish my human default English with exotic Japanese uwu" See "zero tolerance for chasers and racism"

Totally available to play in Japanese or Spanish, but you must be fluent.

Masaru lives in Tobechou, Yokohama. I went to the Chinatown in Yokohama once with my dad, but I lived in Koube. And we didn't leave Hanshin region all that much. My knowledge of much outside there being a Chinatown in the '80s (obviously still there, as it was the setting for the Savers movie) and big landmarks like Minatomirai is minimal. I also haven't been back to Japan period since '94. My relatives there are all deceased since the '90s, and flights alone are 1,000$, which, until recently, was definitely over a month of rent. Two for a studio, one plus a couple hundred for a 1 or 2LDK, depending. Might even have had 1.5 baths. By the time Savers was airing in Japan, I was able to keep up with Japanese news via now-gone Japanese-language broadcasts in California, as well as the Web, which is also how I saw Savers. But my knowledge of Japanese things may run the risk of being almost 30 years out of date. Or it might be completely current because I still read Asahi News, the most left-leaning paper I can find. Unsure if related to Hanshin region channel 6, but channel 6 was the best when I was there.

The Daimon family didn't move when Masaru came out, but he came out pretty young. It's just difficult to get trans care for minors. That being said, most peers don't know he's trans. They do know he's mixed, though. That being said, it's not like it's *only* him fighting racist bullies. It's only partially that. Like I said, I fully acknowledge he's pretty abrasive. So he's not completely blameless for all the fights. He could easily someday be the kind of parent who gets arrested for punching a rival dad. Violence is not a last resort for him. It's the best resort.

I do multi-para and don't use icons. But I'm not asking for an exact word count match. All I ask is give me stuff to go off of in replies and for Heaven's sake, do *not* format like House of Leaves when you play with me. Format button abuse looks like a visual panic attack, and is just too chaotic for me to read.

I may go spotty on replies with you. I'll still chat with you via the messenger thingy, and I don't play with people I've never spoken to, even if I've started the interaction, because I need to filter for my sanity, so I need to know the people I play with aren't gonna pull racism or something on me, but when my replies slow, it's because I work on-call at a shelter for seriously physically ill people, I'm also disabled myself, and I don't have the ability to put enough energy for the high-quality replies I strive to give in at the moment. I'm stalling because I want to give you my best. If I want to drop a thread, which is admittedly rare, I'll let you know. I won't leave you guessing.

Some h/cs just for fun

Masaru loves metal. The metal I know is 70s prog and 80s glam metal and stuff. I don't really like much music past about '94, and exactly two albums after 2000 (neither are metal)

Masaru has always had the same kind of attention span I have now even though I completely didn't when I was younger. He's running commentary if you watch an movie with him, his biggest problem with school is the whole sitting and passively listening to a lecture part, he thinks he doesn't like reading because others always talk about sitting there and reading for hours on end (if he's older, he may have realised it's OK to read for 20-minute bursts, something I eventually realised, too). He only really learns by doing. That being said, depending on age, he may not have had the chance to *realise* that yet.

He wouldn't become a sumo wrestler, but he totally watches it. Honestly, any fighting sport, and he's there.

He's very Japanese as far as religion. Sort of takes part and believes in a lot of them at the same time, but none are a overly influential part of his life. This is a thing.

Crossovers with any season preceding Savers are pretty easy with this blog considering my project. The project will eventually merge with the Bleach project, toi, so I also have a thing for that. Overall, I welcome crossovers with most animated media. Live action, I'll consider if you don't use icons with me (it ends up looking like Who Framed Roger Rabbit in my head) I don't do any real person stuff beyond, say, having Masaru listen to real bands or know of other public figures.

There is also a flexibility in playing Masaru in other countries. He could visit family in Russia or Afghanistan, he can be sent over from DATS to help with digimon appearances in countries allied with Japan (coughcontroloverjapanliketheuscough) or I totally ship him with Touma, so he could be in whatever that country is (obviously a Germanic nation in Western Europe)

He's definitely leftist, but his tactics aren't really common among the left. Typically, it's the fascists that will throw the first punch. Except Masaru will, as well. Unfortunately, this means he can take *away* from, say, antifa efforts to counter demo anti-Korean rioters.

He looks down on most weapon use, but probably none more so than guns and other weapons that remove the user from the target. To him, anyone who hides safely behind a weapon and makes the fight so one-sided is a coward. To this extent, he thinks war should be done away with and the leaders of the countries should duel instead of America just wiping out thousands of Japanese (WWII) or Afghani (during his lifetime) civilians (well, in that war, it was definitely not the Afghani government's fault, as that was a radical rebel sect powered initially by Regean, but it was most certainly civilian deaths en masse)

Masaru cannot meditate at all. He's also very reactive. To that extent, he's never really done well with martial arts. There's a lot less focus on self-discipline in boxing and wrestling than in Aikido or karate or what have you. He'd probably love the intensity of Krav Maga or CQC. I just don't know if Krav Maga has a self-discipline component. CQC almost certainly doesn't--it's American.

More when I think of it.

#rules #about #about muse

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personaehq · 6 years ago

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INCOMING MESSAGE …

FULL NAME: aiden ALIAS: n/a ANDROID TYPE: ETS#228 MANUFACTURE DATE: 2134 PHYSICAL AGE: 25 ALIGNMENT: pro-defiant OCCUPATION: n/a AFFILIATION: enforcer of the defiant movement ACCOMMODATION: ecostay apartments, sangenjaya FACECLAIM: kim jongin

ACCESSING: BACKGROUND …

rape tw

[april, 2134]

they give it the name aiden.

[may, 2134]

the crowd watches the stage with expectant eyes, cheers rumbling through the arena as they wait for the brand new face of chikara sports drinks to make his first appearance. his features are sharply cut, designed to mesmerize yet play into the crowd’s fantasy of the perfect friend, the perfect boyfriend and the perfect son-in-law.

still, there is a certain emptiness that lays on the android’s features as he smiles and waves out to the endless rows of people that had come out to watch him. see aiden, as they had named him, was not created to feel joy upon the jubilation. no, all they needed him to do was stand still and look pretty while the other parts of machinery do their part of the job.

[february, 2135]

“… you know, there’s people that would pay a lot of money to spend a night with a face like that…”

the words are merely hushed whispers but they resound crystal clear in aiden’s head as he plays them back over and over and saves his analysis to his hard drive. he classifies it as [://redundant] as well [://unknown], unsure of the meaning the stranger had weighted the words with.

“… rich and powerful. it could benefit the both of you if you play your cards well…”

[march, 2135]

MODIFICATION REQUEST

NAME: aiden TYPE: ETS#228 MANUFACTURE DATE: 2134 DESIRED CHANGES: extension pack #69 PURPOSE: unknown

[september, 2137]

[://search: pain]

[://pain: an unpleasant sensation that can range from mild, localized discomfort to agony. pain has both physical and emotional components. the physical part of pain results from nerve stimulation. pain may be contained to a discrete area, as in an injury, or it can be more diffuse, as in disorders like fibromyalgia.]

the words flash and flicker on aiden’s retina but he can not make much sense of them. this does not feel like pain, he thinks to himself, this is something much worse. it feels like his body is being ripped apart by a rod of hot, burning metal and all aiden wants to do is fight back. he wants to kick and cry and scream until his vocal chords rip apart but there is a little voice in the back of his head that orders him to do the exact opposite. the presence of the foreign entity is enough to make aiden obey, focus shifted as he lays paralysed on top of the wooden desk.

“who are you?” aiden asks it.

“i don’t know.” it answers back.

“why are you here?” he pries even though it sounds even more confused than he does.

“to make sure you survive.”

[november, 2137]

aiden stands in the corner of the room, bowing and smiling to those who pass him but none of them pay him the same courtesy. they barely spare him glance, gazes skipping right over him as it travels through the room in search for their next victim.

“why is no one talking to me?” the voice in the back of aiden’s head still hasn’t disappear and the droid can’t help but rely on it for comfort as he spirals deeper into feelings of isolation and solitude.

“i don’t know.”

it’s an answer aiden had gotten a lot over the course of the past two months and one that could anger him to unknown extents. why was it here if it wasn’t going to help him?

“is there anything you do know?” the words aiden spits in response are vile yet his features are gentle as ever. he may not understand these emotions but at least he’s good at hiding them.

“i know i’m not supposed to be here…” hesitation echoes in aiden’s head but it’s not one that belongs to himself, “and neither are you.”

[june, 2139]

reality.

how does one escape reality?

aiden has given up on finding the answer to that kind question, acting on automatic pilot as he pushes himself up from his client’s choice of furniture and pulls the shirt back over his head. he moves swiftly and meticulously, using the jumble of limbs and fabric to his advantage as he wipes the tears and agony from his features.

the droid gets away with it every time, company usually too preoccupied with making themselves presentable again to pay any attention to their toy. but this time aiden can’t help the discomfort that settles in his chest as the man studies him with questioning eyes. aiden has no other choice than to stare right back into his eyes and wait for the command that would initiate his escape from the man’s rough clutches.

a nod.

the driver is still waiting for him downstairs, but just like always he offers him no comforting words. sometimes it’s the silence that hurts him most, the complete lack of sympathy from those who inflict him pain. does the droid know what happens between closed doors? does he know he could be next?

something is not right. aiden’s manager never waits up for his return, more alarm bells ringing loud and clear in his ears once aiden lays eyes on the security guard that stands next to him.

“drive.” aiden mutters to the driver but he does not seem to understand what is requested of him.

“this is the final destination.” he replies back.

“drive.” aiden urges again, hand clutching around the other’s neck as if this was his final warning.

but the droid does not start the engine. it does not fight back. it does not take orders.

“run.”

ACCESSING: PERSONALITY…

POSITIVE TRAITS: dedicated, loyal, cunning NEGATIVE TRAITS: vengeful, sanguineous, introverted

aiden is one of those people whose personality does not match their exterior. he was designed to appeal to the human eye, features sharp yet inviting, but on the inside aiden is hardened by the years of abuse and mistreatment. he is restless, vengeful, with a sole purpose in mind. he wants to hurt those who hurt him and he will not repose until he succeeds.

aiden is also someone who internalizes emotions as he was taught it was his only way of survival. he is a fighter more than anything and showing any sign of pain or defiance was an easy way out he was not willing to take. unfortunately, that process of internalisation makes him look cold, distant and disinterested in any form of human connection. all humans have done is hurt him, take advantage of him, so if defiance is anything like being human then he wants no part in it.

… END OF MESSAGE.

#android #t #a

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mohini-musing · 6 years ago

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A blindness that touches perfection

Chasing Ghosts universe, set not long after Tasha reentered James’ life

Tasha’s reappearance in his life in a lecture hall brought the two halves of his existence into conflict, a Venn diagram melding slowly together - the before and the after stretching out to meet, converge, and the confluence of those two parts of him would either be his undoing or salvation.

Now here they are three weeks into the semester in his living room, hunched over a cheap coffee table and assembling what he can only think of as atomic model tinker toys in preparation for an exam he’ll be happy to scape a pass out of.

Her hand is trembling as she reaches for the little colored baubles, meticulously constructing a representation of the compounds they have to deal with for this unit. Organic chemistry should have come with a warning about this particular endeavor for those lacking in all original parts, James muses, before he registers that the tremor is making it impossible for her to connect the little sphere to the corresponding cylinder.

“Tash?” he asks, voice low enough to be barely heard. The startle his question evokes scatters plastic atomic model pieces all over the carpet, and she curses before looking up at him.

“Dammit.”

The word is more hiss than anything, and he clenches his fist to keep from reaching out to her.

She presses balled up hands hard against her eyes, chest heaving as a gasping breath whistles through gritted teeth.

He wants to grab her, pull her across the space that divides them and hold her close. He wants to ask her what is going on, but he waits. Tasha hits harder than half the guys he fought alongside in the desert. Provoking her is a bad choice in the best of moments and right now it’s a particularly ill advised one. Long seconds pass before she looks up with red, watery eyes.

Her face contorts in what he supposes she intends to be a smile. It’s all teeth and no joy; lips chapped beneath perfectly applied stain. Deeply wired training makes every tiny detail stand out, each small tell seared into his consciousness and igniting instincts he thought he left behind in a home where every door held secrets and every utterance subtext he didn’t care to read.

“I hope you don’t think you’re getting out of telling me what that’s about,” he tells her dryly. Tasha doesn’t go for coddling. Better to be direct and hope for the closest thing to truth. She’s too good a liar to give him the actual thing, but he stands a decent chance at getting a shade of it.

“Give me my bag.”

He obeys, reaching behind him for her small canvas pack. There’s the rattle of a couple different plastic vials within as she rummages and withdraws a hand clutching a brightly labelled bottle. It promises magical fat burning and appetite suppression.

“Tasha,” he begins, his lips moving before his brain engages. No one on the planet needs to lose weight less than the girl in front of him. She’s always been thin, but this new version of his former baby sister is all sharp angles.

“Shut it,” she interrupts.

Spindly fingers dig a couple beige capsules from the bottle and she knocks them back without so much as a glance at him. Her throat works a couple times to get them down before she shakes her head one quick jerk and drops the bottle back into the depths of her bag.

She doesn’t look up when she speaks.

“It’s not like it’s cocaine.”

He doesn’t know why he still has her micro-expressions embedded in his brain, but right now it’s immensely helpful. She’s biting at the center of her lips, but the set of her forehead tells him it’s not nervousness. It’s searching for a believable lie.

“And we both know how safe you are with that,” James shoots back when the silence stretches a little too long.

“I’m not a fucking child.” The petulant look she gives him almost makes him regret the words. Almost.

“You never were. What’s up with the not cocaine, then?”

“Hangover,” she mutters.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I have a fucking hangover. I don’t have time for a fucking hangover, so I’m drugging up and moving on. I presume you’re familiar with the concept?”

Now that he looks closely, her eyes are a little bit on the glassy side. He’s wired to think of her as perpetually a little bit buzzed, though, so it hadn’t been noticeable as anything worthy of further study. He doesn’t know where he stands, what the boundaries are right now. Years ago, he knew her as well as he knew himself. Now she’s as good as a stranger, while also being absolutely his baby sister.

“You have a hangover, which means you’re dehydrated, and you’re popping amphetamines?”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious, for that astute contribution,” she snarks back.

He resists the urge to snap at her, to tell her she’s being an idiot. Instead, he heads to the fridge, grabs a bottle of Gatorade, and passes it to her. She takes it without a sound, twisting off the orange lid and downing most of the contents in a few long draughts.

“Why do you have a hangover on a Tuesday night?” he asks her. Even as the words pass his lips, he sees the problem. She’s going to hear accusation, and she’s bound to shut down hard. He hears the word on a ghost of a memory – incoming.

It’s not a projectile heading his way or a kid with a gun bigger than his arms. But it’s no less hard to witness. Tasha’s face transforms into marble, cold, hard, empty.

“I don’t have to answer that.” The words hold no inflection but they are true. She doesn’t. She has no obligation to him or anyone else to explain the hows and whys of what she does to her body. It doesn’t stop him wanting her to offer them, but it does keep his lips closed and the rest of the questions unasked.

Are you drinking every day? How much? Are you sleeping? Well? Food? Are you safe? – All the things he wants to know and can’t badger her with. Pushing too hard is a recipe for being shut out entirely. Failing to push tells her he doesn’t give a fuck. Tasha’s an expert at subtext, skilled enough that she can find it where it doesn’t exist. Every time.

“Point,” he says instead, before kneeling at the floor and gathering the model components and placing them back in front of her. It’s message enough that he’s heard her, that he’s giving her space to say what she’s ready for, and to keep her silence if she isn’t. He’ll keep the electrolyte drinks coming, stick a bottle of Motrin on the counter, and wait until she’s ready to explain. Patience has never been his virtue, but tactical planning – that’s a thing he knows well. Tasha is often best approached as a mission with unclear parameters. He has plenty of experience with those.

They’ve put together a half dozen more compounds when she stands, walking with long strides down the hall and hitting the rug before the toilet with a soft thump of knees on shaggy discount store fluff. He hears her cough a few times before the Gatorade makes its reappearance. Going to her and rubbing her back, holding her curls, offering comfort, all of those options filter through his mind and are discarded. He was on her path from the room. If she wanted him, she would have grabbed his hand and pulled him along. It was always her way as a child and so little else has changed he can’t imagine that has either.

The toilet flushes a third time before stumbling footsteps announce her return. Her face is a sickly grey, a vague flush beneath prominent cheekbones. He pats the space next to him and she drops into it, knees drawn to her chest as she slips sideways against what is now only some of an arm. A moment of alarm as he wonders if she’s going to be upset by the prosthetic. She doesn’t stare at the glove on his hand the way most people do, but that’s a far cry from cuddling metal and silicone.

A tiny sniffle pulls him from his insecurities. Tasha doesn’t do tears. Except she’s going to now. She plops her head onto his shoulder and he reacts on instinct, curling her into his body and wrapping his arms around in the embrace they knew as kids. She’s boneless, her trembling form going where he guides as he holds on for all he’s worth. She’s not crying, exactly. More like leaking saltwater from clenched eyelids while her breath forces warmth through the fabric of his shirt in shallow gasps. Regardless, he begins the litany he learned in another world.

“Just breathe,” he tells her. It’s all the comfort she’s ever allowed. He could tell her she’s not alone, that she’s safe, that he’s got her, but none of those have ever helped. Simple orders, direct but gentle, those are the way to go when Tasha needs whatever it is she needs right now.

“I have a new caseworker,” she whispers when her body has stilled. “She called me darlin.”

They’ve never really discussed specifics of what happened to Tash before she turned up in the group care home. James does know that there are words, phrases, snippets of everyday life that send her hurtling back to places she’ll do terrible things to herself to stop seeing.

“How long?”

“First visit was yesterday morning,” she murmurs. “I started drinking when she left.”

James doesn’t need to ask how much she had. He can’t smell alcohol on her so she must have had little enough to not leach it through her pores. That doesn’t rule out an exceptional amount consumed, but it does mean that it’s not a habit, not in a way that he needs to worry for her safety. He’s no idiot. Tasha needs her vices the way other people need oxygen. For now, he can trust that she’s hungover on a Tuesday evening but that she’s safe enough in her skin.

#chasing ghosts universe #natasha romanoff #james barnes #AU - foster care siblings #amputee bucky barnes #veteran bucky barnes #emeto #alcohol #hurt/comfort

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bloojayoolie · 6 years ago

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Apparently, Children, and Click: |pot Found in an empty apartment 4 days after his beloved parent died, a sweet, special boy, waits for a new family to love him. Id 15154, 2 Yrs & 8 Mos. old, Heartbroken & waiting, at the Manhattan ACC TO BE KILLED 8/22/19 SPOT was found with his bonded sibling SOX in an empty apartment, 4 days AFTER their beloved parent had died. They had sat during that time, cuddled together as day turned into night and night turned into day, wondering what had happened to the person they had built their lives around since they were puppies. They comforted each other, even as they looked at their empty food dishes and their water dish, now empty. Stomachs rumbling, parched with thirst, hearts broken, and confusion in their eyes. And then they were found. The police came and they wagged furiously, hoping this stranger would take them to their parent. But instead they were brought to the shelter, separated when they got there, and each put in their own kennel. Now they wait, and when the shelter goes silent at night, they each stare into the night, wondering where each other are, as they reflect on the life they lost and all the precious memories that now only bring sadness and longing instead of happiness and delight. Won’t you help them out? Foster or adopt Spot or Sox or BOTH – they are bonded after all. And they deserve to be given back their smiles. Message our page or email us at [email protected] for assistance. SPOT, ID# 15154, 2 yrs and 8 mos old, xx lbs, Unaltered Male Manhattan ACC, Large Mixed Breed, White / Black I was a Return, 7/29/2019 Surrender Reason: Found in apt by Police, 4 days after owner had passed away Shelter Assessment Rating: LEVEL 3 Medical Behavior Rating: Blue I came to the shelter with, and am bonded to, SOX, ID# 15155 (adopted already) Behavior Assessment Date of intake:: 7/29/2019 Means of surrender (length of time in previous home):: Stray Date of assessment:: 7/30/2019 Summary:: Leash Walking Strength and pulling: Hard Reactivity to humans: None Reactivity to dogs: None Leash walking comments: None Sociability Loose in room (15-20 seconds): Distracted, does not approach Call over: Approaches with coaxing Sociability comments: Body soft, sitting down Handling Soft handling: Accepts contact Exuberant handling: Accepts contact Handling comments: Body soft Arousal Jog: Engages in play, escalates Arousal comments: initially runs loose, then escalates to intense jumping up and leash biting, could not easily be distracted, continues to leash bite for the duration of the assessment Knock: Approaches (loose) Knock Comments: None Toy: No response Toy comments: None Summary:: 7/30: When introduced off leash to the female greeter dog, Spot is tense, freezes, and lowers to a lunge when greeting. Most recently, Spot has become more challenging to handle due to leash biting and at times mounting handlers. he has not had further follow up around other dogs, and a period of decompression is recommended before immediate follow up on behavior around dogs. ENERGY LEVEL:: We have no history on Spot so we cannot be certain of his behavior in a home environment. However, he is a young, enthusiastic, social dog who will need daily mental and physical activity to keep him engaged and exercised. We recommend long-lasting chews, food puzzles, and hide-and-seek games, in additional to physical exercise, to positively direct his energy and enthusiasm. IN SHELTER OBSERVATIONS:: 8/13: When Sox 15155 is being walked past Spot's kennel, Spot sees Sox and greets her through the kennel door with a wagging tail. 8/12: Spot fixated on people and objects, staring at them intensely, whining, and howling. 8/11: Spot jumps up on the handler and attempts to mount. It is hard to distract him from this behavior. He also repeatedly jumps up and bites the leash. BEHAVIOR DETERMINATION:: Level 3 Behavior Asilomar: TM - Treatable-Manageable Recommendations:: No children (under 13),Single-pet home,Recommend no dog parks Recommendations comments:: No children: Due to Spot's low threshold for arousal we recommend an adult-only home. Single pet home/no dog parks: Due to concerning behavior observed during Spot's dog-dog assessment, introductions to unfamiliar dogs are not recommended at this time. Potential challenges: : Leash-biting,Low threshold for arousal Potential challenges comments:: Low threshold for arousal: During the arousal component of the handling assessment, Spot became very quickly aroused and began jumping up very high and focused on grabbing the leash in his mouth. He could not easily be distracted and continued to focus of the leash for the remainder of the handling assessment. Please see handout on Low threshold for arousal. Leash-biting: When Spot becomes excited and aroused, he is quick to jump up and grab the leash in his mouth. This behavior intensifies and he is difficult to distract. Please see handout on Leash-biting. My medical notes are... Weight: 61.6 lbs Vet Notes 8/4/2019 [DVM Intake] DVM Intake Exam Estimated age: ~2-3yrs Microchip noted on Intake? Y History: owner passed away; reported deaf in notes but ears pricked and head turned when metal lids clanged behind him Subjective: BAR Observed Behavior - likes to jump, pulls on leash but allowed full handling and exam Evidence of Cruelty seen - N Evidence of Trauma seen - N Objective T = DNP P = WNL R = WNL BCS 5/9 EENT: Eyes clear, ears clean, no nasal or ocular discharge noted Oral Exam: clean adult dentition PLN: No enlargements noted H/L: NSR, NMA, CRT < 2, lungs clear, eupnic ABD: Non painful, no masses palpated U/G: Neutered male MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, healthy hair coat CNS: Mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities Rectal: Externally normal Assessment: Apparently healthy young adult MN large mixed breed; reported deaf in notes but ears pricked and head turned when metal lids clanged behind him Prognosis: Good Plan: Ok for placement SURGERY: Permanent waiver due to already neutered. 8/13/2019 Hx: ACS noticed marked nasal discharge BAR H pink 1 sec eent- nasal dc; sneezing; congestion pln- wnl hl- 120hr reg nm ss fp abd- relaxed ug- M msi/neuro- nsf A) CIRDC P) baytril- 204mg sig: 1 1/4 tab po x 10 d's doxcycline- 100mg sig: 2 3/4 tab po sid x 10 d's probitotics- 1 cap sid po x 10 d's *** TO FOSTER OR ADOPT *** HOW TO RESERVE A “TO BE KILLED” DOG ONLINE (only for those who can get to the shelter IN PERSON to complete the adoption process, and only for the dogs on the list NOT marked New Hope Rescue Only). Follow our Step by Step directions below! *PLEASE NOTE – YOU MUST USE A PC OR TABLET – PHONE RESERVES WILL NOT WORK! ** STEP 1: CLICK ON THIS RESERVE LINK: https://newhope.shelterbuddy.com/Animal/List Step 2: Go to the red menu button on the top right corner, click register and fill in your info. Step 3: Go to your email and verify account \ Step 4: Go back to the website, click the menu button and view available dogs Step 5: Scroll to the animal you are interested and click reserve STEP 6 ( MOST IMPORTANT STEP ): GO TO THE MENU AGAIN AND VIEW YOUR CART. THE ANIMAL SHOULD NOW BE IN YOUR CART! Step 7: Fill in your credit card info and complete transaction HOW TO FOSTER OR ADOPT IF YOU *CANNOT* GET TO THE SHELTER IN PERSON, OR IF THE DOG IS NEW HOPE RESCUE ONLY! You must live within 3 – 4 hours of NY, NJ, PA, CT, RI, DE, MD, MA, NH, VT, ME or Norther VA. Please PM our page for assistance. You will need to fill out applications with a New Hope Rescue Partner to foster or adopt a dog on the To Be Killed list, including those labelled Rescue Only. Hurry please, time is short, and the Rescues need time to process the applications.

#funny #lol #humor #memes #meme #memehumor #dank memes #funny pics #rolf #lmao #Apparently #Children

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