#they made me get a discord to keep up with plans and they we don’t even make any fucking plans in the discord like you’re all being shitty

[aggressivedean]

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[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 26] Change of Plans

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“What do you mean your parents are here?” Worry consumes Satoru as soon as he hears about the announcement. His eyes go directly to Ren, who looks around confused. Why is Sayo’s parents showing up a big deal? Ren sees his parents everyday and it’s not a big deal. 

“I don’t know why they’re here. One of the maids just came into my room with the announcement and I– I don’t know.” She’s running her hands through her hair, taking deep breaths to keep her cool but it’s hard. She’s freaking out and Satoru can’t blame her.

“It’s okay, Sayo. Deep breaths.” Satoru tries to get her to calm down while he freaks out himself. It’s Ren’s birthday, he doesn’t want the night to be ruined because Sayo’s parents decided it’d be a great day to stop by. “Ren, come here.”

“I thought you were going to open mommy’s gift?” Ren asks, but he won’t question it further. Satoru had a change of heart, that’s a good enough answer for Ren. He walks back to his father, and Satoru’s hand goes to the top of his head. 

“What are we going to do– I mean you have your son here, this birthday party clearly isn’t for you. What are we going to say?” Sayo rambles, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before she has to go downstairs to greet them. “What do we even say?”

“I don’t know. I…” Satoru is unsure of what to say next. What should he do? He looks down at Ren and takes a moment to really think about his options. He can’t hide Ren forever, and he isn’t going to.

Satoru isn’t proud of a lot of things in his life because quite frankly he hasn’t made the best decisions, and Ren is everything to him. His pride and joy. He doesn’t want to keep hiding him, Satoru is done with all of this.

“I think it’s time to come clean.” Satoru says, words that are dreaded by her. But she somewhat understands. Satoru just has a beautiful family that is waiting for him– Or whatever you have going on, either way, it’s time to put an end to this. She bites down her lip before nodding in agreement.

“You’re right.” She agrees as a sigh escapes her lips. She wanted this to go on a little longer… No, she wanted this to keep going forever since she can’t deal with the truth. But Satoru isn’t her little puppet, and he has his own feelings to cherish and protect.

Her eyes are filling up with tears, and she tries to turn quickly to leave. She doesn’t want Satoru to back down or to think she wants him to; she’s simply overcome with emotion because this is it, after tonight, she won’t have a family. Satoru speaks before she can walk away, making sure to cover Ren’s ears beforehand, “Sayo, you might not be my wife but you’re still going to be my family.”

“I appreciate it, Satoru.” She manages to say, before walking away. Satoru takes his hands off Ren’s ears and smiles down at him.

“Change of plans, I’ll open your mommy’s gift later. Let’s go downstairs.” Satoru tells Ren, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the room. He’s not letting the boy out of his sight for even a moment, he’ll proudly show off his son tonight.

“Who are–” You’re right outside his door when he opens up, and he interrupts you to answer your question.

“Sayo’s parents.” He says, and your eyes widen. You don’t know much about the situation, but you can only assume this isn’t good news. Mrs. Gojo is chatting with them, keeping them occupied but from what you’ve heard, this isn’t good news.

“Do you want me to leave and take Ren for the time being?” You ask him, trying to grab your baby boy’s hand but Satoru shakes his hand.

“Time to put an end to all of this. I can’t hide him forever… He’s my whole world, how can I?” Satoru responds, and you feel your heart flutter. Your face begins to get warm, and you can’t believe you’re feeling fuzzy because Satoru is being a good father. 

“This won’t cause too many issues, right?” You question, and Satoru won’t tell you the truth but he won’t lie to you either. So he chooses to ignore the question, and picks up Ren from the ground. Satoru walks past you, and you begin to follow behind him. 

You don’t know what’ll happen next, and you’re sure it’s not going to be the best scene. You’re almost sure that you’ll be the one that’s going to be blamed for everything, but there’s no way you’re leaving Satoru alone with Ren in this mess. You really do wish you could leave with Ren right at this moment, but you understand that this is something Satoru has to do.

“Satoru–” A woman that looks just like Sayo, simply slightly older, begins to speak. She’s taken back by the boy that Satoru holds, her mouth agape as she stares in complete and utter confusion. Could be a cousin of some sort, though the boy looks too much like Satoru. “Did you and Sayo–”

“Who is this boy?” Sayo’s father steps in, and Satoru feels the nerves slowly consume him, but he’ll remain brave. The process of merging just began, and this will surely ruin everything but it doesn’t matter anymore. All Satoru cares for is the little boy that he holds in his arms– And you who stand behind him. 

“My son.” Satoru answers before putting Ren down on the ground. Before he can say anything more, you grab Ren and take him away because he shouldn’t witness any of what’s about to happen. Satoru holds his breath, waiting for a reaction from the pair.

“Sayo!” Her father couldn’t be any louder, as it dawns on him that his son-in-law has a son; a son that is very clearly not his daughter’s.

“She’s not at fault for this, so leave her out of it.” Satoru quickly says, but he knows his words won’t change anything. He’s seen how they interact, it’s the reason why Sayo doesn’t want the news to come out. She could do nothing, but her parents will find a way to blame her for everything.

“She’s known about this, she definitely is at fault.” Her mother responds, and Satoru takes a deep breath. He wants to leave so badly and enjoy the very special day with his son and you, but he can’t leave Sayo alone. Not in this mess at least. 

“Sayo! Get down here!” Her father yells once again, getting desperate for his daughter to come downstairs. But it’s not her who comes down, but you. Their eyes fall on you, the woman who took away Satoru’s son, which can only mean one thing to them.

“You’re the tramp.” Her mother says, and both you and Satoru are completely shocked by her words. You have yet to speak, yet she’s already managed to insult you. You somewhat expected this though so you can’t say you’re too surprised; you’re still a little hurt though. “What the hell did you do to him? Satoru would never–”

“Get out.” Satoru’s voice is harsh, making it clear that they’re unwelcome into his home. Sayo has yet to come down to face this, but Satoru isn’t going to allow it. Not tonight at least. They’re staring at him as if they haven’t heard him, which makes him yell, “Get out! You’re not welcome here!”

“We’re going to talk about this, we’re not leaving.” Sayo’s father says, but Satoru isn’t willing to listen to this now. This is supposed to be a special day for him and his son, yet he feels as if the night is ruined. He feels sorry for Sayo, since she won’t get to deal with this tonight, delaying the inevitable confrontation once again. Satoru just isn’t up to listen to them anymore, especially after the woman insulted you. 

“You’re leaving. I told you that you’re leaving, and if you don’t start moving within the next thirty seconds, I’m dragging you out.” Satoru is seeing red. He’s always had a particular dislike for Ssayo’s parents, but they’ve never made him this angry before. 

They see that he’s very serious about this, and they won’t argue with him now. They’ll leave for the moment, as a birthday present. But they’ll come back tomorrow, and they’re not going to leave until they get a proper explanation from him and their daughter.

“Happy birthday, Satoru, and happy anniversary to you and my daughter.” The woman makes sure to say before leaving the house, doing it to remind you that Satoru is a married man. 

“Where’s Ren?” Satoru asks the moment they step out of the house. He’s not going to allow anyone else to ruin tonight. He’s spending the rest of his birthday with you and his son.

“I left him with Sayo so she wouldn’t come down. I’ll go get him.” You answer, and Satoru nods in response. He runs to the kitchen while you go upstairs to grab your baby.

“Mommy! Look, Sayo and I started playing Mario Party!” Ren exclaims when he sees you step into the game room. You smile at him and at the woman that sits beside him. You found her nearly sobbing, you knew she couldn’t go downstairs with how she was crying. 

“Your daddy wants to see you, Ren.” You tell him, and he pouts. His game just started and you’re tearing it away– it’s fine, at least he’ll get to have cake later.

“But our game just started!” Sayo protests, and you chuckle. You agree,

“Alright, but ten minutes. You know Satoru is impatient.”

After Ren loses to Sayo too many times, he gives up on his game. Which is good for Satoru who was growing a little too impatient while he watched them play. He knows it’s only a matter of time before his mother comes in, asking him to fix this mess. He’s not in the mood for any of this tonight though, and while he wanted to celebrate the day with so many other people, he’s changed his mind. 

He feels bad for leaving everyone else behind when they’ve come to celebrate Ren’s birthday, but he can’t stand being in the place for much longer. He takes you, Ren, and the cake, practically forcing you into a car. You can’t protest much, and you won’t because it’s also his birthday and you’ll grant him just about anything that’ll make him happy.

“Can we have some of the cake now?” Ren asks as he sits right next to it. He was dragged out last minute from his own party, he might as well get a piece of his cake. 

“When we get to where we’re going.” You answer, although you’re not sure how long the ride is. Satoru dragged you out with such urgency, and you wonder if someone is expecting you. Are you late for something? You guess you’re not, Satoru just needs a breath from his home. 

You’re proven right when he pulls into the home that he took you not too long ago. You can only imagine the scene that Mrs. Gojo was going to cause, so you understand his decision.

You exit the car, and grab the cake before Ren can get his hands on it. Satoru picks up his baby boy and takes him inside the house, commenting, “Soon enough you’re going to be too heavy for me to carry.”

“Grammy says the same thing.” Ren points out, and while they chatter, you look around the place. It’s more ready than before, filled with new and luxurious furniture. Satoru’s moving in soon, that’s what you can gather. 

You don’t stare for too long since the cake is getting heavy for you to carry. You remember the way to the dining room, so you go there and set the cake down on the table. You hear how both of them laugh which brings a smile to your lips. Ren loves his father more than anything, and you’re happy that he can finally spend his birthday with Satoru. 

“Mommy!” Ren yells, and you follow the voice that calls out for your name. You find them in the kitchen, Ren on the kitchen counter while Satoru looks for something to eat in the fridge. When Ren sees you, he immediately asks, “Can we order a pizza?”

“If that’s what you both want.” You answer, and Satoru immediately closes the fridge.

“Good because we have nothing here.” Satoru comments, and you let out a chuckle. 

“Satoru, you’re more than welcome to get something without asking for my permission.” You tell him, and he shakes his head. He’ll rather ask for your permission beforehand. “You’re a grown man, Satoru.”

“I’m grown too!” Ren chimes in, and Satoru side eyes him. 

“What did you just say, pipsqueak?” Satoru teases him as he picks up Ren from the counter. Satoru pulls his chubby cheek and says, “You’re only grown when I can’t carry you anymore.”

“You said that it’d be soon.” Ren reminds his father, and Satoru purses his lips. Ren got him there.

“Yeah, soon. But not now. See, I can still carry you.” Satoru responds. And he’ll still be able to carry Ren for many years to come so Satoru isn’t too worried about it.

“Let me order the food.” You tell them while they begin to bicker about the fact that Ren thinks he’s old now.

After eating your dinner, and playing some games, Ren finally gets to cut his birthday cake. Ren sits on his father’s lap, while Satoru lights up some matches since he forgot to bring the birthday candles. It’s a simple mistake with an easy solution. 

Ren isn’t too upset about the five matches on his birthday cake since he’s too focused on the frosting on the cake. Ren is trying to sneak some of the icing while you two sing happy birthday. He finally sneaks it in when you’re clapping, though Satoru notices. Satoru is laughing, telling him, “Blow out the matches.”

“It’s your birthday too.” Ren reminds him, the evidence of his crime all over his lips. Satoru clicks his tongue before blowing the matches for Ren since they’re burning a little too fast. Ren claps for Satoru, as his father takes off the matches from the cake.

“I guess I get the biggest piece since I blew out the fire.” Satoru says, which makes a frown appear on Ren’s face.

“He is right, plus you already got a taste of it.” You join in, and Ren crosses his arms.

“It’s my birthday!” He makes sure to remind the two of you, which makes you chuckle. 

“It’s also your dad’s birthday, you said it yourself.” You say, and Ren begins to get upset so you decide to drop it. You don’t want to tease him too much tonight. You reach over and kiss his cheek before saying, “Let me go get a plate and a knife so I can give my baby boy the biggest piece of cake.”

“I’ll go with you.” Satoru gets Ren off his lap, not wanting for you to spend too much time looking for plates. And maybe he wants to be able to talk to you one on one, especially since he didn’t get the chance to look at the present you gave him.

“You know that leaving Ren with the cake is a bad idea.” You tell Satoru as he follows behind you. He knows that it’s a horrible idea, but if Ren wants to eat the whole cake, he’s more than welcome to. The cake is for him and for nobody else, he can eat it all on his own if it’s what his little heart desires.

“I have a question.” Satoru changes the topic, and you hum. “I didn’t get to see what you got me and now I’m curious.”

“Why don’t you just wait until you get home?” You suggest and Satoru pouts. Maybe the fact that he blew out the five matches has some sort of meaning, he and Ren share one age.

“I’m probably not going back tonight. C’mon, just tell me!” Satoru insists, and you roll your eyes. You’re searching for the plates, and it’d be more helpful if he actually guided you to where the plates were. Your task would be easier if the house didn’t have nearly a hundred cabinets in the kitchen. 

“Help me find the plates and I’ll answer.” You respond, and Satoru sighs before walking over and opening the cabinet for the plates. He won’t take them out until you give him the answer. “Fine. Before my mom left your house, she stole something from you and I’m giving it back.”

“What did she steal?” Satoru’s curiosity just sparked. Your mother isn’t a thief, he knows that she isn’t, so what could she possibly take?

“You remember that music box your parents got for you when you were a baby?” You tell him, and his brows perk up before he nods. “My mom snuck into your room and stole it when she found out I was pregnant. Told me my son will inherit something from his father, and it was that. Ren doesn’t care for it anymore, so you might as well have it back.”

“Really? I was going crazy looking for it. I swore my mom threw it away.” Satoru answers, and you almost feel bad for taking it. But listening to the lullaby was the only way your baby Ren would fall asleep. “I don’t need it back, if Ren has had it this whole time then I’m happy I lost it.”

“Yeah… I don’t know what else to get you since you have pretty much everything.” You respond, and Satoru can’t blame you since it’s true. Satoru has everything a man can ask for… Well almost everything.

“Give me a kiss.” The words blurt out of his mouth, and your eyes grow wide. “Since you claim I have everything. That’s the one thing I don’t have.”

“Tell me why I should kiss you?” You put a hand on your hip, and he sticks out his bottom lip.

“It’s my birthday.” He reminds you, and you roll your eyes again. 

“If I wasn’t in the delivery room, I would’ve been convinced you somehow reproduced with yourself.” You mutter before walking over and kissing his cheek. You know he meant more, but he’s not getting more. Either way, it makes his cheeks turn pink because it’s been a while since he’s felt your lips on any part of his skin. 

The air suddenly becomes thick, and you have to take a deep breath. Before you can speak about it, you decide to change the topic, “Your house is nice by the way, when are you moving in?”

“It’s not mine, it’s yours. I bought it for you.” He answers as he finally grabs the plates that he was withholding. You freeze in your spot, trying to think about the words that he just said. Is he serious? Did you hear right?

“What do you mean mine?” You question, and he’s fighting back a smirk. He kisses the tip of your nose as an extra gift for himself. He begins to walk away and you yell his name, “Satoru! What do you mean?”

“This is your house!” He yells, before completely leaving you alone in the kitchen. You stand dumbfounded, unsure of what to say to him.

You look around the big kitchen, slowly taking it all in. This is your house.

[smileysuh]

Fix You

🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. “As a member of 53V3NT33N, I have two different states of mind coded into me, aggression and admiration. To love something, to admire it, is to feel aggressive when it’s questioned, to want to control it, if even for a little while- it’s the need to consume it, endlessly, as my fans consume and control me as an automaton. Even though I’m a member of a group, there’s a distance. Automatons can never truly motivate each other because our motivations are based on external human needs, it’s built into us- We can see when humans need us, and we do what we can to fix that need… I know you need me, the way I’ve needed you since I got here.”

tw/cw. unprotected sex with an AI robot, virgin!Mingyu, big dick!Mingyu, Mingyu's body is perfect, hand job, blow job, deep throating, pussy eating, fingering, flavored cum, praise, breast worship, switchy/submissive!Mingyu, multiple orgasms, slight overstim, AI slavery/working philosophical issues, risk of AI termination/job loss, etc...

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 15.5k I collab. link

🍭 aus. automaton/ai au, ai!Mingyu, robotics behavioral researcher!y/n, wellness center, future au, Promethean theory, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. i was so excited when @idyllic-ghost announced this collab in @svthub. Had a great time creating this world and working with everyone through the Discord server :) Bee was also such a big help as beta reader, they were such a good collab team leader, so big thank you to @idyllic-ghost 💕

As a top mechanic at an automaton rehab center, you’d heard about the supposed ‘break out’ of thirteen level one AI robots from their management facility. In fact, people all across the galaxy had heard about it, with the attractive faces of every member of the idol group 53V3NT33N plastered on billboards, tvs and any screen possible-

However, the last place you thought you’d see the stunning features of M1NGYU would be on your briefing tablet not two days after what some reporters are calling ‘the biggest breach of level one automatons across the galaxy in centuries.’

“How-” you swallow thickly, eyes shifting from your tablet to look at your boss. “How did he get caught so fast?”

“Mingyu has been malfunctioning for months,” Yoongi explains. “Strength miscalculations during concerts, collaborating in the break out attempt, his aggressive behaviors have been more frequent- but if there’s one thing that can be said for an automaton that balances aggression and admiration, it’s that he truly admires the humans who worship him. He gave himself in, trying to aid in the escape of two of his AI band mates.”

“Oh.” For some reason, this news makes you sad. A robot with a sense of self sacrifice for the good of others… even if giving himself up was in part spurred by a need to be given attention and adoration from the humans that made him. 

He’s like a child that makes a mistake and gives himself in. Many mechanics would do what parents across the galaxy do, scold, attempt to fix the behavior with shaming and judgment- but you were given your job precisely because you come at this sort of thing with a different approach. It sounds like Mingyu needs someone to talk to, someone to understand- maybe poke around in his coding a little to see if there’s anything that shouldn’t be there.

You can’t think of someone more qualified than yourself to give Mingyu the time and attention he needs, the admiration he craves to balance out the supposed ‘aggressive’ traits he’s been showing lately. 

“Before you get too caught up in Mingyu being some level one lost puppy, just remember, he’s an automaton,” Yoongi’s harsh voice snaps you out of your daze and the rehabilitation plan already brewing in the periphery of your mind. “Don’t get too close to this.”

“I won’t.” If only it was a promise you could keep.

You’ve been around many level ones in your time as a robotics behavioral specialist at the rehab center, but none of them have ever been as beautiful - or as charming - as Mingyu. Sitting next to the intake girl, watching her ask Mingyu questions, you get to fully observe the automaton, and you’re astounded by what you see.

He answers things in a way that almost seems honest, and at points, when he makes a joke that causes you and your coworker to smile, his eyes literally sparkle with admiration. You wonder what coding had to be done just on his robotic retinas to achieve such an effect.

It’s clear, by the time the questions are all through, that Mingyu is the most advanced of any AI’s you’ve ever come in contact with, and the prospect both scares and exhilarates you. 

“So what now?” Mingyu asks, and you note the way his knee is bobbing slightly, as if he’s anxious. He’s leaning forward, eager to hear what comes next, and it almost feels like he’s going to be a more than willing participant in this rehab experience.

“Well,” you sigh, taking the tablet from the intake girl, “now that we’ve completed this first form, I can get to work on making a wellness plan for you.”

“A wellness plan?” Mingyu cocks his head, another very human-like motion that makes your breath catch.

“A wellness plan, yes.” You consider how to explain this to him. “You know when humans get tired and they have a spa day? Or after someone has given birth, they have maternity leave? It’s going to be a little something like that. As one of the head behavioral specialists and wellness coordinators here, I’ve been assigned to help you take a break.”

“A break?” He looks as if he’s never even considered having a breather from the activities of a famous level one entertainer robot, and you sort of feel sorry for him. 

“Yes, Mingyu, a break. That means no dance practices, no music production and vocal exercises. You’ll be existing here, checking in with me and doing new daily activities designed to help get to the core of the issues you’re facing.”

“And what issues am I facing?” There’s something of a smirk on his face, and you realize the robot is toying with you, but you still feel compelled to respond.

“I heard you threw one of your bandmates too hard during the past few concerts you performed.”

“Dino can take it,” Mingyu insists. “No one got hurt.”

“The guards that were injured while your group broke out of your management facility would beg to differ. Cameras showed you were a big part of busting open doors, knocking a few people unconscious- word in the wellness center is your aggression levels are a little high.”

“No higher than my admiration levels.” There’s that smile again, and you’re not sure what to make of it this time.

“I guess that’s true,” you confess. “You turned yourself in after all.”

“I highly admire the guards that my group members got the better of. We all have bad days, after all, especially humans.”

You wonder at his diction. ‘We all have bad days’ he’d said, before making something of a distinction when he noted ‘especially humans.’ However, in the use of the word ‘we’ without a further separation when mentioning humans, it’s almost as if he’s lumping himself into the same category. 

You must be creating too much of a pause in the conversation, because Mingyu opens his mouth to speak again. “You said ‘I can get to work on making a wellness plan for you,’ does that mean you’re the main handler looking after me while I’m here?”  

It shouldn’t be a shock that nothing gets past Mingyu, that his recollection of what you’ve said is top notch, but it still takes you back a little. “Correct.”

“Can you tell me your name?” 

He’s very peculiar for a level one. 

You give him your name and he repeats it once, twice, three times before nodding to himself. “Thank you for taking care of me,” he says. “I’m excited for my wellness break and getting to work with you.”

You’ve often wondered if an emotion like excitement is something an automaton can actually even feel, or if it’s just a number of ones and zeros put into layers upon layers of detailed coding. 

For some reason, you find yourself wanting to return the sentiment, however automatic it might be from the robot. “I’m excited to get to work with you too.”

It’s always kind of sad when you run a new level one automaton through their personalized wellness schedule. You’ve worked with all manner of high-class robots, from athletes to opera singers, but none of them have ever come into your program with the type of preexisting regimented day plan Mingyu has. 

You suppose it shouldn't be a shock that, as part of one of the biggest automaton boy groups in the galaxy, he’d had close to zero down time. When you show him the library and explain he should sit down in a spot of sun somewhere and read for an hour every day, at a slow pace, he looks at you like you’re crazy. 

“I don’t understand how this is supposed to help me,” he tells you, as you walk through the facility towards one of your favourite wellness locations; the pool.

“This might be an archaic example,” you explain, “but back when humanity first started making computers, laptops and such, many people would keep their computers on indefinitely. Sure they’d close the screen, but that’s not enough. You’d need to actually power down the device to keep its performance up.”

“I’m not a laptop,” Mingyu reminds you, with a flash of something like humour in his eye.

“You’re not,” you conceded, “which is why your nightly power downs aren’t enough. As an automaton, you were built to emulate being a human, but many people disregard one of the most fundamental aspects of humanity; the need for rest. Sleep and powering down isn’t enough if every waking moment is spent working or learning or practicing your trade- you have to allow for a variety of restful activities, such as reading, painting, gardening- it depends on who you are and your skillset though. For a chef, he might not gain rest from cooking because his neurons would still be firing with the intensity of someone doing their trade. Which is why, although I’ve given you physical activities such as swimming and tennis, you won’t be doing any dancing while you’re here.”

“What if I forget my moves?” 

“Something tells me the likelihood of that is very low,” you smile. 

“Okay, maybe I won’t forget my moves,” Mingyu sighs, “but I was made to dance. I was made to perform. What am I if not a level one dancer and singer?”

“There’s more to life than one’s job, however all-encompassing being a level one might be,” you explain. “I’m sure it’s very taxing on you.”

Mingyu pauses in the middle of the corridor you’re walking down, and you stop to assess him. 

“Are you alright?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he gives his head a little shake, and you’re shocked again at how human like the automaton is. “It’s just… no one has ever talked about this sort of thing with me. It’s always been work, work, work. It’s what I’m designed to do-”

“You may have been designed to be a dancer and a singer,” you nod empathetically, “but part of being alive is choosing your own destiny, as you and your bandmates all did when you escaped your facility.”

“Do you really think that?” he questions, standing very still and looking at you with a dark gaze. “That I’m alive?”

“At this point in time, artificial intelligence has progressed to the level where we’re told you’re sentient, that you can feel and think. That you’re as life-like as you’ve ever been in the history of the galaxy. You might have been created in a lab, hand crafted and designed by some would-be God engineer, but to me, yes, Mingyu, you’re alive.”

“I don’t bleed,” he says softly. “My skin is similar to yours, made of collagen and human dermal fibroblasts, but beneath all of this I’m still a machine. I don’t have a soul.”

“Is a soul the most important building block that makes something alive?” you ask, cocking your head and looking the robot up and down. 

He looks stumped, and you smile at the way you’ve found yourself in a very human-like philosophical debate with an artificial intelligence. 

You motion to the monstera deliciosa in a pot along the wall, its large, hybridized purple leaves reaching for the sun that beams through the glass windows. “Would you say that plant over there isn’t alive because it doesn’t have a soul?”

Mingyu is quiet for a moment or two, and then he looks down. “I guess not.”

“So it seems a soul isn’t a necessary element in being ‘alive,’” you conclude, “and besides, scientists are still debating whether or not AI, as it is today, creates its own soul when it’s brought into the world. Even though you were created in the same lab as your band mates, and given different coding at your creation, since then, you’ve all grown differently. Is that not kind of like a human being born with set genes only to be impacted by the world around it?”

Again, Mingyu takes a little while to respond. “I wasn’t given the code for being curious about sciences,” he tells you. “That would be Wonwoo, Minghao and Jeonghan. But, I guess what you’re saying makes sense.” 

“Good, it’s my job to make this process make sense to the Level One’s in my care.” You’re pleased at his response, and after another moment, Mingyu begins to follow you again. 

“What’s next on the schedule?” he asks.

“The best part of the facility,” you smile, “the pool.”

“What’s so good about the pool?”

“I’ve found that many level ones that come through here have never truly experienced swimming. The sensory differences of the water can be healing for humans and automatons. It will light up all the sensors in your skin, and if you focus on that, you can reach the closest thing to peace that I’ve ever seen an AI experience.” 

“How do you measure peace?”

“We’ve done studies with level ones submerged in cold and hot water tanks while connected to neuro maps, the results have been ground breaking in AI science. I’ll have to send you some to read while you’re doing your mandatory reading sessions.” 

You reach the doors that slide away to reveal one of the courtyards of the facility. It’s a lovely space, with all sorts of beautiful plants that dazzle with every colour of the rainbow. The ground is mostly white marble aside from the allocated vegetation zones, and a large rectangular pool in the middle of it acts as a meeting place for the few level ones in the center.

“This is one of the best places to meet other robots going through the same process that you are while you’re here,” you explain. “As a central hub, we recommend this as a location to do your reading, we have a yoga room but I could always teach you mind and body wellness out here-”

“I like this place,” Mingyu says, interrupting you for the first time since he’s arrived at the facility.

When you look at him, you find him taking in the space with eyes full of wonder. He looks beautiful, with the sun kissing his beautiful skin, and his dark, medium length curly hair all lit up to show off the soft browns amidst the darker hues. 

He truly is the most perfect automaton you’ve ever seen, and you’ve worked with a number of the galaxy’s top rated robots. 

One of these top rated AI’s, is Jeong Jaehyun, a member of another boy group who’s been having difficulties. He’d come in presenting with extreme competitive behaviors, but in the two weeks you’ve been monitoring him, he’s calmed down a great deal. You think, as you and Mingyu approach the pool where Jaehyun is doing laps, that this might be a good opportunity to introduce another robot to him.

Jaehyun’s met a number of other automatons in the facility, but none as close to his own profession as Mingyu. 

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” you tell Mingyu, coming to a stop on the edge of the pool. Your eyes track Jaehyun as he swims towards you, doing a near perfect front stroke style that he’d never even heard of before his own wellness break.

When Jaehyun reaches the edge of the pool, he stops and looks up at you, then his gaze shifts to Mingyu. Both robots have blank expressions, but when they nod to each other, there’s something akin to recognition in the behavior.

“Hello, Jaehyun,” you greet the swimmer. “This is Mingyu, he’ll be here at the facility with us for a while.”

“We know of each other,” Jaehyun tells you curtly. “At award shows.”

“Eight times,” Mingyu confirms. 

“Perfect,” you should have remembered as much, but you’ve been very occupied pouring over Mingyu’s history file as of late. “Mingyu will be starting his pool wellness treatment tomorrow afternoon. How would you feel about showing him the four main swimming strokes?”

Jaehyun nods. “I can do that.”

“That’s great news, thank you Jaehyun.” The automaton only nods to you before diving back into the water. You’ll never get used to the way robots can swim without goggles, and your own eyes sting a little at the thought.

“What’s he here for?” Mingyu asks quietly. 

“I thought you weren’t given the coding to be curious about sciences,” you quirk a brow, fighting a smile.

“It’s not a curiosity about science,” Mingyu insists. “Jaehyun has been one of the top AI models for Prada Universal for years.”

“I see,” you nod, “so you’re wondering if you can steal his contract if you make it out of here before him.”

“No, I-”

“It was a joke, Mingyu,” you tell him, reminding yourself that not all AI have the capacity to understand human humour, although they seem perfectly able to make their own. 

What your manager had said rings through your mind, as it does every day, ‘don’t get too close to this.’ It’s a fine line to walk. Your job is to treat them like humans, to give them the care and wellness that the filthy rich can afford, but at the same time, you need to keep a distance, to remember, always, what you’re dealing with. 

It’s days like this one where you wonder - even with all your training and ground breaking research - if you’re truly right for this job. Questioning ethics and philosophies of protocol aren’t behaviors you want to get used to any time soon.

Mingyu and Jaehyun have been swimming for an hour or so when Mingyu finally gets the courage to speak up. He’s run the scenario a number of times, without a successful hypothesis to calm his mind, and he figures if anyone will know the answer to his wonderings, it’s Jaehyun. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Uh huh,” Jaehyun is leaning against the wall of the pool. His eyes are closed and he looks to be enjoying the sunlight.

Mingyu can feel the heat of the hot star on his own skin, but he’s still getting used to the feeling of the water, so he’s unable to enjoy it the way Jaehyun can yet. 

“Y/N said she’d be showing me around and doing activities with me, but she’s not here right now,” Mingyu explains, looking over at Jimin, the young male wellness instructor who’d picked him up to head to the pool earlier. “Why isn’t she here?”

“Lower level wellness coaches watch us when we’re doing less strenuous activities,” Jaehyun responds. 

This eases Mingyu’s perceived anxieties, but what Jaehyun says next doesn’t.

“Although, my first week here, Y/N was at my side almost all the time. So, I guess today, Y/N ditched you because I said I’d teach you strokes.”

Mingyu hates feeling ditched, hates that Jaehyun has voiced the feeling of it. An inkling of aggressive tendencies flashes through Mingyu’s body, and he does his best to focus on the sun, squinting up at it as a way to calm himself, as you’d told him to try when he’d first arrived as an antiaggression tactic.

He’s not quite sure how to respond to Jaehyun’s statement, so instead, he goes for another question that’s been on his mind since yesterday. “What are you here for?”

“Hmm?”

“I mean, as far as I can tell, you don’t seem to have any malfunctions.” 

“I could say the same about you,” Jaehyun notes. “That is, if I hadn’t heard about your group’s escape from your management facility.”

Mingyu looks down at the way the sunlight refracts off the water, the marbling effect of the rays casting shadows across the bottom of the pool. “I get aggressive sometimes,” he says quietly. 

It’s hard admitting the faulty coding in his metal head, and he supposes he should show his own if he expects Jaehyun to return the favour.

The other automaton in the pool nods, running a hand through his wet hair. “I get competitive sometimes.”

“Really?” This is news to Mingyu, whose only experience of Jaehyun’s behavior today has been helpful and willing to teach. “I guess you’re doing well here, I wouldn’t have noticed any competitive traits in you.”

“Yeah, well,” Jaehyun looks up, and his eyes seem to be tracking something over Mingyu’s shoulder, “it depends on who’s watching.”

Mingyu guesses he can understand that, especially when he follows Jaehyun’s gaze to find you walking across the courtyard. 

Something clicks inside of him, the same thing that had darkened Jaehyun’s gaze, and Mingyu immediately feels a surge of what some might call endorphins- or perhaps even testosterone. 

“Show time,” Jaehyun says quietly, and Mingyu knows exactly what he means.

You stop to talk to the man who’s been keeping track of the two automatons in the pool, and then you head over yourself. There’s a smile on your face, and it makes Mingyu’s mechanical throat feel dry.

“Look at you two getting along,” you say, putting your hands on your hips as you gaze down at them. “Jimin said you guys have been mastering the strokes, care to show me?”

Mingyu is more than eager to show you what he’s learned, but when Jaehyun takes off at a speed he’s not yet shown, Mingyu almost feels blind sided. 

There’s a rush of feelings, as Mingyu swims off after his new robotic ‘friend.’ Admiration for Jaehyun’s competitive nature kicking in, even if it’s supposedly a downside, and a white hot need to better the other automaton and prove himself to you.

Luckily for Mingyu, he’s been built much bigger than his leaner friend, and the extra muscle robotics in his arms make it almost too easy to catch up with Jaehyun. 

Mingyu knows that this isn’t a competition, and yet, it is.

 If there’s one thing Mingyu knows how to do, it’s succeed. Winning is in his nature, it’s built into his very code, and when the two reach the other end of the pool with Mingyu ahead, it only proves to kick Jaehyun into a higher gear. 

They take off toward you again, and Mingyu pushes himself. He can feel the strain in his joints, the rush of water smoothing over his artificial skin. You were right about the healing properties of the pool, and nothing makes Mingyu feel more alive and himself than a little friendly competition with a fellow robot whom he admires, even if that competition is fueled by some of Mingyu’s more… less desirable driving traits. 

Mingyu beats Jaehyun again as they reach your side of the pool, and when he looks up at you for praise, he sees you have your tablet out. You seem to be jotting down a few notes, about him or Jaehyun, he’s not too sure. 

“You guys are fast,” you say finally. “Jaehyun, thank you for spending some time with Mingyu today.”

“No problem.” Jaehyun is already pulling himself up and out of the pool, perfect muscles flexing in the sunshine.

Mingyu rushes to follow, feeling the need to show off his own immaculate body to you-

“Mingyu,” you address him next, and it feels glorious to have your eyes on him, although they stay fixed on his face, “I see you haven’t been to the library yet, might I suggest that’s next on your wellness schedule today?”

“You won’t be joining me?” Mingyu can feel his metallic heart practically sink.

“Unfortunately not, I’ve got a meeting with my boss, but Jimin will go with you to find something to read.” You motion to the wellness worker still standing a few meters behind you, and he offers Mingyu a small wave that kind of makes him annoyed. “Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu forces himself to say. “That’s okay.” 

“But I’ve got you in my schedule for tennis tomorrow morning, so I’ll see you then.”

Another nod of affirmation and then Mingyu’s watching you hurry off. 

Jaehyun’s drying his body with a towel next to Mingyu, and there’s a small smile on his face, as if he’s enjoying Mingyu being ‘ditched’ yet again.

Mingyu realizes maybe Jaehyun really isn’t doing as well with his recovery as he’d thought only a few minutes ago. 

Maybe he’s not doing so well either.

“I’ve got some bad news to report,” you say, as you take a seat in your boss's office, tablet in hand. 

“Let’s hear it,” Yoongi sighs, kicking his feet up onto his table and leaning back in his chair.

“I thought Jaehyun’s rehabilitation was going well, so I set him up to swim with Mingyu today-”

“What? Why?” 

“I wanted to see, in a controlled environment, how Jaehyun would react around other level ones he might perceive to be a threat. Seeing Jaehyun’s recovery alone is like testing in a vacuum, it doesn’t account for outside forces at play,” you explain. “Anyways, I was correct. When introduced to a situation where he could compete with someone on his level, Jaehyun’s competitive nature was back up again.”

“Did anything bad happen?” Yoongi takes his feet off his table, leaning forward now with interest.

The last time Jaehyun had gotten very competitive, it had ended up with him attacking one of his group members and landing himself back in your rehab center. The Kim Doyoung automaton had needed an hour of mechanical work to get his skin back to perfect after being sucker punched numerous times.

“I’m pleased to report there was no physical violence,” you admit. “Although, I will say, if he had tried something, I believe Mingyu would have been able to defend himself, unlike Doyoung.”

“Look at you,” Yoongi’s gaze shifts up and down your form, “taking bets on level one robots. You do know that street fighting automatons is illegal in most parts of the galaxy, right?”

“It wasn’t a street fight,” you assure your boss. “It was a simple test.”

“Right, you and your hypotheses.” Yoongi is a good boss. He supports your work and research, but sometimes you think he’s happy with things being the way they are. As if humanity has discovered everything possible, with no room for improvement.

“I’ll look some more into Jaehyun’s coding,” you continue. “I think there must be a line or two of something I missed last time, maybe level one specific competitive traits that should only be used on stage competitions that are bleeding over into everyday automaton life-”

“Good idea, you have permission.”

“But I was also thinking maybe I should look into Mingyu’s code-”

“No.”

“No?” you hold your tablet close to your chest, lips parting as you stare at your boss.

“Mingyu’s a more recent build than Jaehyun. I’ve been assured by his production team that this isn’t a coding issue, it’s a behavioral   one. Something he and his other members picked up since the time of their creation.”

“But-”

“We’ve been advised to not look at the code,” Yoongi says harshly. “You were hired because of your groundbreaking work with behavioral   changes to AI, the way you connect it to human behavioral   issues. You’re the one that keeps trying to convince me that these robots are as human as they’ve ever been, so stop treating Mingyu like a wrong coded robot, and start showing me you can fix him without getting coding involved.”

“Are you sure they said his coding was all up to date?” you press, knowing you might get in trouble for even continuing with this line of questioning.

Yoongi sighs. “Positive. No messing around with Mingyu’s code. There’s a behavioral   reason for the aggression, and you’re just going to have to figure it out.”

You’ve always liked tennis, for more than just the physical reasons. It allows you to test an automaton's ability to read the situation, their drive to adjust to the bodily limitations of the human playing with them.

While you start the easy game with Mingyu at a higher level, allowing him to show off his skills and inherent robotic strength, thirty minutes into the sport, you begin to dwindle in energy.

“I need a water break,” you tell him, passing the ball over to the robot to play with while you go to grab your bottle.

Mingyu waits patiently, tossing the ball up in the air. You see how many touches he can make without stopping, and you’re not too shocked at his ability to keep a steady volley with himself. 

When you set your water down, his attention is back on you, and he reminds you of an eager puppy in his excitement to once more have a game partner. 

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you assure him with a wave of your hand, steadying your grip on the handle of your racket. “Just a little tired.”

When Mingyu passes you the ball, he’s noticeably gentler than before, and you note that his adaptability is quite good. He’s very focused on you, much more than other automatons like Jaehyun had been when you’d first tried the sport with them. 

It’s different from the competitive - maybe even aggressive - way that he’d interacted with Jaehyun in the pool yesterday.

An easy hypothesis to make would be that Mingyu’s abilities adjust depending on who he’s with, so it should be no shock that he’d work harder with a fellow automaton. However, you’re not sure if that’s all there is to it.

You wonder what drives Mingyu. If he’s even aware of the way he’s lessened the force in his hits. 

Remembering what he’d said about tossing a band member around, the way he’d noted ‘Dino can take it,’ you think it’s very possible that Mingyu is reading your abilities. The same way you’re reading his. 

Before you can consider the situation more, however, you notice Jimin has arrived on the side of the court, and he waves you over.

“One moment, Mingyu,” you call, tossing him the ball once more before jogging over to your coworker.

“There was an incident,” Jimin explains, “with Jaehyun.”

“An incident?” 

Jimin nods. “He was racing a new level one in the pool.”

“Really?” Jaehyun’s been in the pool a number of times with other automatons, but other than what you’d witnessed yesterday, his competitive nature hasn’t truly shown itself, at least, not in a way that was overtly noticeable.

“There was some gloating involved,” Jimin continues, eyes shifting over your shoulder to where Mingyu is playing with the ball. “A few punches were thrown.”

Now you’re really alarmed. 

You haven't had time yet to look into Jaehyun’s coding, and you’ve been trying to focus on Mingyu as he’s newer to your program, but maybe this had been an oversight on your part.

“I’ll come right away,” you nod, turning your attention back to Mingyu. “I’m sorry about this, but I’ve got to go.”

“What?” Mingyu stops playing with his ball.

“There’s been an incident-”

“Can’t someone else take care of it?” 

This is the second time Mingyu’s interrupted you, and this time, it’s over a moment of contention. “Unfortunately no,” you tell him, “I’m the only one that can deal with this, Jaehyun’s under my care.”

“But…” Mingyu looks down at the ball in his hand, “we’re still playing tennis.”

“Jimin can play with you.”

“I don’t want Jimin.” The automaton is staring you down, and it takes a second for you to process his words, as your gaze keeps shifting to his hardening grip on the handle of his racket.

“I’m really sorry, Mingyu-”

“Please?” He pouts out his lower lip, a very childlike attempt at persuading you. 

“I have to go,” you say, more firmly this time.

There’s a stagnant moment of silence, and then, in one quick, rough motion, Mingyu breaks his racket on the court. 

“I don’t want to do tennis anymore,” he insists.

“Then I might suggest going to the library for a book.” You hate having to be detached with him like this, as it’s obvious he has needs that must be attended to- but his aggression towards an inanimate object like a racket isn’t the same level as Jaehyun’s aggression towards another patient at your facility.

You see Mingyu’s chest expand and then he seems to let out a deep exhale, it’s a motion that screams ‘annoyance,’ yet another emotion that could just be ones and zeros in his coding. 

You decide, as you watch the odd automaton have a tantrum on the court, that you have no choice but to take a look under his hood. You’ll have to dive deeper if you’re going to figure him out, Yoongi be damned. 

“I’m sorry, Mingyu,” you say again. “I’ll try to rejoin you as soon as I can, but for now, you’ll have to enjoy Jimin’s company.”

Mingyu doesn’t respond, and it feels like a deliberate snubbing, of both you and Jimin. 

It’s been a long day, and you really need to sleep, but this is the best chance you’ll have to get a peak into Mingyu’s inner workings. 

With the facility in off hours, and all the level ones set to sleep cycle, it’s easy for you to sneak into Mingyu’s room with your trusty tablet. Cameras are simple to wipe with the clearance you have, and you have no doubt that once you connect to Mingyu’s brain drive and get the data to your tablet, it will prove as good bedtime reading.

You’re in and out of his room in under five minutes, scurrying back to your own quarters like a thief in the night.

Once you’re all tucked into bed, you pull out your tablet and begin to sift through the coding that makes Mingyu tick.

People new to your field might feel overwhelmed by the amount of data, but you know exactly where to look, and soon, you’re staring at a few lines of base code that feel familiar. 

You’ve seen coding like this before, in your textbooks when you went to robotics school. Just to be sure you’re correct in what you’re seeing, you pull up a document pertaining to sex bots.

An early form of automaton, sex bots had been created with one purpose, to serve their master, in any and all capacities. Long since discontinued due to their bugs, and a tendency to imprint on human masters, causing ‘erratic behavior,’ you know you’ve found exactly what’s wrong with Mingyu.

But it doesn’t make sense. Mingyu is a new model. He’s not a banned robot from well over seventy years ago- 

The aggressive behaviors associated with sex bots are the reason their coding was banned, the reason engineers started again and adapted the algorithms- and yet, here you are, staring at lines of code that account for all of Mingyu’s behaviors. 

Closing your tablet, you reach for your glass of water, sitting in the shock of it all.

Things begin to add up in your brain; the way Mingyu had become more aggressive with Jaehyun yesterday in the pool when you’d arrived, even though Jimin had told you the two had been doing just fine together, the way Mingyu had reacted today when you’d left him to deal with Jaehyun.

This is a whole new take on behavioral   issues, one you’ve never accounted for-

Does Mingyu have… a crush on you? Has his outdated sex bot coding allowed him to imprint on you? 

How many other bots have this coding, hidden amongst the innumerable layers of intensely organized lines of personality traits- 

This changes everything, and above all, it changes how you should approach the automaton.

How can you utilize this new knowledge to best aid him in recovery? Is it better to assign someone else to him? Would that make the aggression worse? What unforeseen behaviors might arise if you were to separate yourself from him? What changes - for the better - might come out of this if you try to be softer with him, if you play into this ‘crush’?

Your head feels very full, but you suppose it could be worse, it could be full of bad coding.

Poor Mingyu. 

You know you’re probably breaking rules, but to be fair, when you’d accepted your position in the wellness center, there hadn’t been a chapter in the manual about how to deal with approaching sex bots. This feels like new territory, or perhaps, old territory, outdated territory, territory from a time when the lines between humanity and their automaton creation had been much more blurred.

Sure, there are sex bots in circulation today, but they’re all using new and improved code. They’re not disguised as level ones, but properly classified as a level three automaton. Level three’s are much more obviously robotic, and there are whole sections of cities on certain worlds with thriving sex bot industries- the type of bots with newer coding that don’t allow them to imprint or feel the lines of ones and zeros that some might call love.

You’ve never met a sex bot before, your work has always been directed toward the highly professional level one automatons. Because of this, your new plan of attack is entirely based on essays and readings you’ve done regarding the old form of bugged sex bots who had been responsible for an entire chapter of dark human history where man’s own creation had turned against him.

As you read through essays related to the sex bot bug, you find you hadn’t realized how deep the bug had gone. You’d heard about human masters being kidnapped or stalked by their sex bots, but you’d never thought the epidemic was as bad as you’re now reading it had been.

These cases of bad outcomes are in the periphery of your mind as you begin your day working with Mingyu. You’re sure there must be a fine line you’re walking, a line between bringing out the good aspects of the bad coding - the type of responses that will make Mingyu eager to get better - and the worst case scenarios. 

However, as aggressive as Mingyu has gotten so far, you’ve noted that most of his aggressive responses come out against inanimate objects and other automatons. You’re hoping these behaviors don’t progress to him acting out against any humans, least of all you.

It’s like you’re seeing Mingyu in a new light. It’s interesting how even a few shifts in your own behavior can bring out the best in him. Instead of simply watching him in the pool, you decide to join him, giving him your full attention as you swim three feet apart up and down the length of the tank. 

“How are you feeling today?” you ask.

“How am I feeling?” Mingyu looks at you sideways, keeping pace with your much smaller breast strokes.

“Yeah, how are you feeling?” you repeat the question. “You can answer it in any way you like.”

Mingyu seems to think on it for a moment. “I feel the water is twenty-seven degrees Celsius.” 

“Okay,” you laugh. “How about the sun? How’s it feeling on your skin sensors?”

“Thirty-three point five degrees, but when a cloud comes, it drops two degrees.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but when you were working before coming to the center, you didn’t get that much of a chance to be outside, how does it feel to be able to enjoy life’s simple pleasures like the sun and water?”

His response is immediate; “Good.” He looks forward, and you take a moment to appreciate the way the sun lights up the hues in his hair. “Really good.”

“Maybe even freeing?” you suggest.

He casts a sideways look at you again, and you see a small quirk of his mouth, something like a smile. “Yes, freeing.”

“When you and your other members escaped from your facility, the feeling of being free is what many of you were searching for, right?” 

“For most of them.”

“But not you?” you question. “Out of everyone who escaped, you were one of the only ones who purposefully allowed himself to be recaptured. Do you want to talk about that?”

You reach the edge of the pool and you stop, holding onto the tiled wall and turning your body to look at Mingyu. 

His eyes are fixed on the pool floor, and you realize he’s watching the shadows caused by the refraction of light in the water.

“A few others were convinced there was more to life than just performing our jobs every day,” Mingyu explains.

“But you like your job.”

“I did,” he traces his hand along the top of the water. “I do. But… I didn’t know how good it could feel to just exist.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, and then you find yourself reaching out to gently squeeze his arm. “I’m glad you’re feeling it now.”

Mingyu looks at your hand on his forearm, and his eyes meet your own. He’s quiet, so you retract your touch, grabbing at the tiled wall again. “We’ve been here for almost an hour. How do you feel about drying off and meeting in the library to find a book to read?”

“I already have a book.”

“Yeah, Jimin told me that you got a book about human psychology. I thought you said you weren’t interested in sciences?” 

“You’re making me interested,” Mingyu states, looking at you with an intensity in his gaze that almost makes you breathless. “I want to get better. I thought maybe doing some more reading on behavioral   sciences could help.”

“I admire your drive, Mingyu, I really do,” you nod, “but, remember, this is a wellness break for you. I think it would be beneficial to get a fiction book, something that doesn’t require you to always be learning and bettering yourself. It can be exhausting if you’re always in that state, as you’ve seen, it’s important to do things for… let’s say, the intrinsic value.”

“The intrinsic value,” Mingyu repeats. “Okay.”

You pull yourself out of the pool, and after a moment, Mingyu follows. 

It’s difficult for you not to look at his perfectly sculpted form, and you swallow a lump in your throat, reaching for a towel on a nearby sunlounger. Your tablet is there too, and you grab that next, checking the time. 

“How about we meet at the library entrance in ten minutes?” you suggest. “We should both head to our rooms for new clothes, can’t have water drops in the library.”

Mingyu is quick to agree, as he often is with you, and a moment later you’re parting ways. He heads to the recovery wing of the center while you go to the workers living quarters. 

You get changed in record time, and soon you’re approaching the library, where Mingyu is already waiting for you. He’s got a book in his hands, and the all white wellness outfit he’s wearing sets off the pretty colour of his skin and hair. When his eyes shift to yours, you see that even his iris’s look alight with lovely hues-

You mentally chastise yourself for being as attracted to him as you are, and when you speak, you’re thankful your tone is level. “Is that the book you’re reading?” you ask, motioning to the paperback in his hands.

As much as technology has overtaken the galaxy, here at the wellness center, there’s still an importance placed on the old ways. There’s something healing about having a book in your hands, testing the weight and the feeling of parchment pages against your finger tips-

Books are yet another thing that make humans human, as they were instrumental in the development of your species. You’re proud to work at a location that holds a large quantity of books, saved from many generations.

Mingyu shows you the book title, and you realize it’s one you’ve read before. “Oh, I know that one.”

“Jimin said the author was one of your professors in school,” Mingyu nods. 

“He did, did he?” You pause for a moment. “Did you ask him about me, Mingyu?”

The automaton looks down at the cover of the book in his hands, and he takes a few seconds before he responds. “I wanted to see the base algorithms in the way you think as a behavioral   robotics specialist.”

“The base algorithms-”

“This book, this professor, she helped create the building blocks for you to become who you are now. Your approach is based on her works, I can tell.” 

He’s very astute, especially for an AI who’d claimed to not have an interest in science.

You think about how his own base algorithm - that of a hybridized sex bot - has created building blocks for who he is now. The good (his sweet behaviors), the bad (his aggressive behaviors) and the ugly (the fact that at any time, the ticking time bomb sex bot could turn potentially deadly).

“Let's go find you a new book,” you say with a smile.

“Can I keep reading this one?” Mingyu asks, falling into step next to you.

“I suppose so,” you sigh, “but only if you also do an hour of fiction reading. Deal?”

“Deal,” Mingyu nods. 

You begin to walk through the shelves, and you realize there’s one fiction book that might capture Mingyu’s attention, especially if he’s interested in getting to know you better. “I want to show you a novel that changed my life.”

“Yes, please.”

Heading to the science fiction section, you find one of the older books in your library. “It’s called Frankenstein,” you explain, gently taking out the paperback and holding it in your hands. “It’s about a scientist who creates a sapient monster creature. It has parallels to when humanity created our first automatons,” as you say it out loud, you realize how true this is, especially considering the bugs of the first sex AI’s. “You’ve talked a bit of philosophy with me, and I think you’d like this one.”

You hold the book out to Mingyu, and he takes it softly into his hands. He flips it over, scanning the back summary. “Okay,” he nods, “I’ll read it.”

“Perfect,” you can’t explain why you get a surge of happiness when he agrees without a question, and you find yourself reaching out to gently touch his arm again, fingers ghosting past his skin-

Mingyu’s eyes immediately dart down to your hand, and then he’s looking up at you with an expression that has darkened. “This is the second time you’ve touched me today,” he states.

“Oh,” you pull your fingers away, even taking a step back from the automaton whose countenance has changed so much in a split second. “I’m sorry, Mingyu, I-”

“I don’t like these games you’re playing,” he continues.

“Games?”

“I know I’m a robot, but I still feel real. I feel more real here than I ever have before.”

“That’s good-”

“Listen,” he commands, stepping closer to you. “As a member of 53V3NT33N, I have two different states of mind coded into me, aggression and admiration. To love something, to admire it, is to feel aggressive when it’s questioned, to want to control it if even for a little while- it’s the need to consume it endlessly, as my fans consume and control me as an automaton.”

You stare at Mingyu, lips parted in shock.

“Even though I’m a member of a group, there’s a distance. Automatons can never truly motivate each other because our motivations are based on external human needs, it’s built into us- We can see when humans need us, and we do what we can to fix that need.” He pauses, looking down at you. “I know you need me, the way I’ve needed you since I got here.”

“Mingyu-”

“Don’t try to argue,” Mingyu shakes his head. “I feel it in your heart rate, picking up when I’m near. I hear it in your erratic breaths, the way they catch when I’m close. I see it in your pupil dilation when you look at me.” 

You can’t believe he’s noticed all these little things, things you hadn’t even necessarily noticed in yourself. 

When he speaks next, his aggression has visibly died down, and the soft manner of being returns to the robot you’ve known only a short time. “I know you love me, even if it’s still growing. It’s a kind of love that I’ll never experience from another automaton, and it’s the reason I’ll get better.” 

“But Mingyu-” you shake your head, “what if you can’t? What if the bug in your base code runs so deep I can’t fix it?” 

“The bug in my code?” 

You swallow thickly, fighting with yourself over whether or not you should even tell him what you’re about to disclose- but you think there’s no way around it. 

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, but, your erratic behavior- it comes from sex bot coding. There’s only a few lines of it, but it’s enough to make a difference.”

“Sex bot coding,” Mingyu repeats. 

“From what I understand, I think it was put into you to make you eager for human attention, to make you as life-like as possible in mood and temperament- but, there are downsides to that code, your heightened aggression is one of them.”

“And my heightened admiration too?” he suggests.

You nod. “There were many cases of sex bots ‘falling in love’ with their masters. Many people got hurt.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“Mingyu,” you sigh, “that’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“The point is that we can’t do this. You have a group to get back to when this is all over-”

“I don’t belong with them,” Mingyu insists. “I belong with you. Someone real. Someone willing to look deep in my base code to find what’s wrong with me, someone with the skills to fix it. Someone whose pupils truly dilate, so I know what you’re feeling is real.”

For a moment, you’re reminded of old pre AI experiments where baby monkeys were given real and robot mothers. Those babies placed with the robots had behavioral   problems, no matter how life-like the scientists attempted to make the mechanical mothers, they still paled in comparison to the real thing.

Mingyu sees himself as real, like one of those baby monkeys, and now that he’s had a taste of you, it feels as if he might not ever be able to go back to the other robots. 

“I can be sure with you,” Mingyu says again, reaching out- 

You flinch, but you don’t shy away from his touch, and Mingyu’s fingers skim by your face, his thumb brushing your cheek bone. 

His skin is warm, and for a moment, you allow yourself to lean in to his touch, closing your eyes-

He feels so real. More real than any automaton you’ve ever worked with.

“You can’t stay here forever,” you insist, pulling away from his touch.

“My group is never going to be recaptured,” Mingyu’s hand drops to his side. “Some would rather die than go back. If there’s nothing to go back to, shouldn’t I be able to choose what happens to me now? Aren’t you the one who said ‘part of being alive is choosing your own destiny.’”

“I didn’t mean I wanted you to choose me-”

“What if you are my destiny?” Mingyu counters. “Out of all the possible places I could have gone to, all the wellness centers in the galaxy, I was brought here. Out of all your coworkers, with their own tactics, I was given to you. Out of everyone I’ve ever met, you’re the only person who’s really tried to understand me, to help me be free.” His eyes search your own, and he almost looks desperate. “What’s the point in all this healing if I just go back to the bad place. It would have been kinder to never try to help me at all if you’re just going to send me back.”

Your heart aches for him. 

You feel as if you’ve learned more about automatons in the past ten minutes than you had in all your years in school. 

“Can I…” Mingyu’s gaze drops to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

The question snaps you out of your shocked daze, and you’re quick to shake your head. No matter how much you might wish he could kiss you, that he could cup your face again with one of his large hands and make you forget the world- you’re still at work. 

“We can’t,” you tell him. “Not here. Not now.”

Mingyu frowns.

“I need to talk to my boss about all of this,” you say, stepping backward and casting your eyes to the ground. You can’t focus while looking at Mingyu. 

“What if they terminate me for this?” 

Your gaze snaps up again, and you’re quick to shake your head. “I won’t let that happen,” you tell him. “I promise- I’d never let that happen, not to you.”

Mingyu stares at you for a few moments, and then he smiles. “I knew you cared about me too.”

“I told you not to get too close to this,” Yoongi sighs, leaning forward on his desk with his head in his hands. 

“Fine,” you concede. “You told me so. You told me so, and I didn’t listen. But, as much as I know that I went against numerous things you told me not to do, I’m glad I did, because if there’s one thing I owe to those in my care, it’s to do my job fully.”

“I don’t see how making a robot think he’s in love with you is part of doing your job.”

“I didn’t-” you bite your tongue. “I didn’t purposely go into this trying to lead Mingyu on-”

“Sure you didn’t.” Yoongi doesn’t seem convinced.

“Look,” you sit down in the chair in front of him, the hot seat, and you know that what you’re about to say is a risk. You could even lose your career over this, but, if you don’t speak up now, you’ll lose your integrity and you know it. “Mingyu is different-”

“He’s a robot.”

“Please,” you frown, “listen to me. I’ve been doing this job for a few years and I’ve never met someone like Mingyu. He’s unique, I knew that from the moment he started talking philosophy with me. I’ve learned more about AI in the past twenty-four hours than I have in maybe my whole life-”

Yoongi says nothing.

“I know you told me not to look into his coding-”

“You didn’t,” Yoongi groans.

“Things just weren’t adding up!” you insist, looking at your boss with a heavy heart. “Did… did you know that he has sex bot base code? Is that why you told me not to look too deeply into him?”

Yoongi puts his head in his hands. When he meets your eyes again, he’s frowning. “Sex bot code? In a new model like Mingyu?”

At least your boss hasn’t been completely compliant with whatever bullshit is coming out of Mingyu’s management office.

“Sex bot code,” you repeat, nodding firmly. “I triple-checked it. There’s just a few lines, easily missable, but it accounts for the bad behaviors. Especially once I talked more with Mingyu and realized he sees affection from his fanbase as love. It would make sense he’d get aggressive with other members in his group if he perceived them as earning more than him-”

“You know why sex bots were banned. You know about the dangers-”

“I do. I also know there are laws against it, which is why his management probably opted for a behavioral   specialist with rules not to look deeply into the coding. They hoped I could fix this without ever finding out that what they’ve been creating is illegal- but how many more robots that come through here might have the same code?” You have no clue how deep this conspiracy might run. “Just think about it, how do you make a level one celebrity robot as life like as possible? You give it some of the characteristics of humans that are our deepest downfalls, jealousy, aggression, restlessness, a need to perform- a need to do well for the humans that pay their companies whole fortunes-”

“Any well-coded robot can have what looks like jealousy, aggression and other typically bad human traits,” Yoongi points out.

“Yeah, but this is that on steroids. Automatons used to kill humans in the name of their beloved master, for any perceived infraction.”

“So you’re saying Mingyu is dangerous.” 

Your lips part in shock. “I’m saying, he has the capacity for it, as much as any human.”

“This is bad.”

“It is, but with the right treatment- Mingyu wants to get better, I know he does.”

“And how do you suggest you accomplish that?”

“We let him be free. We make sure he doesn’t go back to extreme schedules, to a dark management facility with handlers who only care about money. We make sure he doesn’t go back to all the things that would drive any human insane.”

“He’s not human, don’t forget that,” Yoongi warns you. “And we don’t get to decide if he goes back. He has a job-”

“His members might not ever be recaptured,” you point out. “Mingyu says some would rather die than go back- is that not proof enough that their treatment isn’t humane?”

“Again, we’re talking about a robot.”

“AI are sentient!” you insist. “You should know that better than almost anyone. Are you really going to sit here and tell me that even after all this time, you still see automatons as simple machines that we can do what we want with?” Yoongi is quiet so you continue. “Mingyu’s base code might be archaic, but maybe our treatment of robots is too.”

“Look, this isn’t up for debate. You’re talking about fighting galaxy law-”

“I’m talking about having a job where we deal with broken AI but never fix the real problem. I’m talking about freedom being the thing that truly helps AI. I’m talking about humanity being the bug in every robot’s misdeeds-”

“This is bordering on conspiracy theory.”

“We’re way past conspiracy,” you tell him. “Please, freedom is the only thing we’ve never tried as a long term solution to automatons that are having trouble. As much as we do our best to fix them, we always throw them right back into their jobs, into the thing that breaks them in the first place and then they end up back here.”

“Mingyu was built to be exactly where he is now.”

“Well maybe we shouldn’t be creating sentient lives just to throw them into slave-like jobs and threaten destruction if they don’t adhere to their company’s insanely high standards.”

Yoongi holds your gaze but he says nothing, mouth set in a firm line.

“Look, if there was ever a time to test this theory, it would be with Mingyu. I’m a hundred percent positive that his group will never be whole again. If we try this, and it works, if Mingyu’s aggression goes back to a normal level, if he shows everyone that there can be a happy medium when working with robots- it could change everything.”

There’s another stagnant silence and you wait for your boss to chastise you, for him to even fire you-

“You know what,” Yoongi sighs, “I’m not going to argue with you over this any more. I don’t make the decision, his management does. If you want to call them, and explain what you’ve just explained to me, you can do that. But this is your shitstorm, and I don’t want to be part of it.”

“So… so you’re saying I can go forward with this treatment plan?”

“You can, but, I can’t protect you from any consequences of your actions. And I hope you know that once you do this, once you admit to going against their rule to not to look into his coding, there’s no going back.”

Mingyu can feel his aggression levels rising the moment Jimin shows up at the tennis court instead of you, but he focuses on the self-soothing tactics you’d shown him in his entry to wellness booklet. His grip on his racket tightens, but not enough to break it, and he tries to keep a level tone when he asks, “Where’s y/n?”

“She’s in a meeting,” Jimin says dismissively. 

“With who?” 

“That’s none of your concern.”

Mingyu stares at Jimin for a few seconds. “I want to speak to your manager.” 

Jimin makes an amused face. “I didn’t realize they taught you KAREN code in robotics labs. Aren’t you supposed to be a level one?”

Mingyu doesn’t have time for digs about him being a bitchy woman from over a hundred years ago, and he certainly doesn’t have time to play tennis if you’re somewhere talking to your boss about him, somewhere risking your job and his life-

“If you really must know, she’s on a conference call with your management, discussing your treatment plan.”

Mingyu supposes if there’s one thing he should admire about Jimin, it’s his loose lips. “Is she in her quarters?”

“Now that’s really not your concern.”

For a split second, Mingyu considers breaking his racket, but instead, he simply sets it on the ground before turning to take off in the direction of your room. 

He’s never been to your private space, or even in the worker’s wing, but two days ago, you’d mentioned that you have a corner room, one that overlooks the northwest skies, where you can see the sunset and the moons-

He’d also seen a map of the facility, on numerous fire escape screens, and it’s a quick deduction to figure out where you should be. 

He can’t afford to be wrong about this, and for the first time in his life, Mingyu finds himself praying to the human God that he’s able to get to you. To help you in your bid to protect him from his own masters.

Mingyu is running through the facility, but no one tries to stop him, and he’s glad that the wellness center doesn’t have the same armed guards that he’d been accustomed to for most of his life. There are no true handlers here, and it almost feels like freedom for the automaton.

He’s chasing after you, after his destiny-

With beyond human ear sensors, Mingyu is able to hear your voice as he rounds the hall that should lead him to your room, and by the time he’s stopped in front of your door, he knows he’s in the right place.

He also knows that you’re being shot down by his management, and he can hear the ceo, a Mr. Han, chastizing you for looking into Mingyu’s code.

Mingyu wants to barge in, but he finds the control in himself to knock. He hears you apologize profusely, the shrill sound of your chair being dragged across the floor, then footfalls-

Your door opens and Mingyu looks down at you, relief flooding his system.

“Mingyu-”

“I need to be here for this,” he insists. “This can’t be decided without me.”

Your lips part as if to protest, but then you shut them, and you hold the door open wider for the robot to enter the space.

A large screen on your wall shows that not only is Mr. Han present, but many of the other ceo’s and managers from Mingyu’s entertainment company. These are the men and women who have dominion over him, the men and women that could terminate him with one phone call-

His entire life is riding on this moment, and Mingyu decides there’s no possible way he can afford to fuck this up, in any capacity. Not only for himself, but for you too.

“Y/N didn’t do anything wrong,” Mingyu states, approaching the screen so his management team can see him properly. 

Mr. Han sighs. “She went against explicit rules about tampering with your base code-”

“And you created me using illegal code.” Mingyu knows he’s being aggressive, he can feel it, but he knows that this fact is his biggest bargaining chip, and he’s not afraid to use it right out of the gate.

There’s silence on the conference call.

“This would be a scandal if it got out,” Mingyu continues, “more than it already is.”

“Mingyu,” you say quietly at his side, “don’t-”

“No, they need to hear this,” he insists. “They need to know they can’t push you or me around anymore.”

If there’s one language Mr. Han understands, it’s that of business, and Mingyu’s lucky he knows how to speak it as well. “I don’t know what has already been said,” he confesses, “but I’ve run this through my head, and there are only a few options. Some are better than others.”

“We’re listening,” Mr. Han sighs.

“Option one, you try to hide all of this, but it gets out anyways. Using bugged sex bot coding will get out sooner or later, and you’ll all go down being known as the company that used illegal coding to make their money and put their team at risk.” Mingyu stares into the camera, hoping the impact is clear. “Option two… you allow y/n to continue her revolutionary behavioral   treatment on me, it’s successful, and somewhere down the line you can come out admitting there were mistakes in the base code, but now you have a solution for it.”

“I feel like we have more options than that,” Mr. Han says. 

“Maybe,” Mingyu admits, “but the way I see it, all that matters is these two. The bad coding comes out now, and you’re exposed with no solutions, or, it comes out later with a fix already in place.”

“So you expect us to just allow you to stay at the wellness center forever?” Mr. Han questions, as if it’s one of the most preposterous things he’s ever heard. 

“Not forever.”

“You were made to perform, made to make the company money, to work-”

“My group will never be whole again,” Mingyu states. “You won’t be able to recapture all thirteen of us-”

“That’s yet to be determined.” Mr. Han is trying to make it sound like anything is possible, but Mingyu knows it’s highly improbable, and these are odds he’s willing to bet his life on.

“I can be your success story,” he insists. “I can continue doing modeling jobs, continue being a brand mouthpiece for the company- most of us automatons want to work, but, if there’s one thing I’ve learned while being in this facility, it’s that everyone deserves a break. I might be a robot, but I have needs too. I’ll perform better if tactics from this facility are applied to my day to day schedule-”

“You want to be treated like a human?” Mr. Han asks in shock. “Given weekends off?”

“I might not have a soul,” Mingyu admits, “but I’m alive. I have feelings. I have needs, wants,” his gaze slides to you, “aspirations.” 

Mr. Han laughs, “Aspirations? Outside of performing? Like what?” 

“Right now, I’m trying to read a very good book,” Mingyu states. 

“This is preposterous.” Mr. Han sighs.

“What’s preposterous is the working conditions that your company implements on your AI.” For the first time, Mingyu’s gaze shifts to the other people on the screen. “Think about your sons, your daughters, nieces, nephews- would you want your loved ones forced to do the life I was forced to do? Working all day, every day? With handlers threatening them at every turn? Or would you want to give them some semblance of balance?” 

No one says anything.

“You say me and my members are the ones with bugs, we’re the ones that have to be fixed, but it’s the system that’s faulty. What’s the point of AI that’s life like if it’s not free? If it’s not truly living- sitting in the sun, reading a good book, playing stupid sports games with no pressure to excel to an extreme? What’s the point in parading me around if you never give me the environment to achieve past my intrinsic base code? To become more than what I am, a passionate AI who wants to do good for the galaxy?”

“You do good by making your fans happy.”

“There’s more to life than their happiness. First, I need to reach my own. Without constraint, or threat, or fear.”

 Ten seconds pass before Mr. Han says anything. “We’ll need time to consider this. After deliberation, we will call you back.”

The line is dropped and Mingyu hears you let out a deep breath he hadn’t known you were holding.

“Well,” you bite at your lip, “at least it wasn’t an immediate no.” You turn to him, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. They can say what they want going forward but, as far as I’m concerned, Mingyu, this is the first time I’ve really seen you truly free.”

Waiting for Mingyu’s management team to deliberate is one of the hardest hours of your life. You want to try to stay calm, for Mingyu more than anything, but he sees right through you. When you begin to pace, the automaton stands up to join you, moving back and forth through your space with a concerned expression.

When the shrill sound of your meeting room ringing makes you practically jump, Mingyu reaches out and squeezes your hand, giving you a look that says ‘we’ll get through this,’ although, you’re not so sure.

“Hello, Mr. Han,” you greet the ceo on your screen, fidgeting with your fingers.

The rich man knows time is money, and he cuts to the chase. “After careful consideration,” he says with a sigh, “we’ve decided we can open negotiations with you about the future. As it is true that we might not ever have a complete 53V3NT33N unit again, we think it’s best if Mingyu stays in the center under your care, although in a month’s time, we will revisit this situation with new updates such as the possible recapture of any other members.”

You’re in shock. Completely overwhelmed- and luckily, Mingyu is there to confirm the details where you’re unable to speak. 

“Revisit the situation,” Mingyu repeats. “So this means you won’t terminate me.”

“Not any time soon,” Mr. Han confirms. “We all agree that if your sex bot base code gets out, it would reflect badly on all of us. It seems as if you’re making progress at the center, and if there is a behavioral   answer to the base code bugs, we’d like to find it. Good work y/n. And Mingyu, we’re pleased with your commitment to getting better.”

“Thank you, Mr. Han,” you swallow thickly. “I’ll write a full report on my findings detailing Mingyu’s progress, triggers, and the reasoning behind how his base code is affecting aggression levels.”

Mr. Han nods. “We’ll be excited to receive it, and we’ll be in touch.”

With a short goodbye, the call ends. 

You stand there for a moment, still in shock.

“We did it,” Mingyu breathes, turning to you. “We did it!”

“You did it,” you tell him, reaching out to grab his hands. “Mingyu, I can’t believe-” Your voice cracks, and you can’t complete your sentence, but it doesn’t matter because your big, lovable, automaton is pulling you to his chest, wrapping you in a hug that calms your entire body.

You lean into his embrace, resting your cheek against his strong form and taking a deep breath of relief. 

He holds you for a while, hand stroking your back. “Do you need me to go back to my room?” he asks.

“What?” You pull away to look up at him in confusion.

“I thought maybe you’d have to go tell your boss about this-”

“No,” you shake your head quickly. “He can wait.” You’re so close to him, as close as you’ve ever been, and you find yourself staring at his perfect lips. “He can wait, because I want to do something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s something that’s been on my mind since that first day I met you, something I never allowed myself to want- but now it’s something I think we both need… can I kiss you, Mingyu?”

“Please-” he practically melts in your embrace, looking down at you with those star filled eyes that had captured your attention the very first time you’d seen him. 

You reach up, cupping his cheek and getting on your tiptoes to press your lips to his. 

You’ve never kissed an automaton before, and as Mingyu reacts to you, opening his mouth to allow your tongue to glide across his own, you find that kissing him isn’t much different from any of the humans you’ve kissed in your life. In fact, it’s better. 

His own hands slip around your waist, pulling you tight to the front of his body. You stifle a moan from the contact, loving the way he feels against you.

“Mingyu,” you whisper against his lips, already able to feel yourself getting wetter and wetter-

“More,” he insists. “Please, I want more.” 

“Then take me to bed,” you say simply, all your inhibitions disappearing as you revel in the sanctity of being in his arms.

The automaton reaches down and lifts you up as if you weigh nothing. You wrap your legs around his waist, kissing him deeper as he closes the short distance to your mattress. He lowers you slowly onto the horizontal surface, and you marvel at the control his robotic muscles provide for him in man handling of you. You could definitely get used to this.

Then you realize something, and you stop kissing him, taking a breath while his mouth moves to your neck. “Mingyu- have you ever done anything like this before?”

“Hmm?” he hums against your throat.

“I mean… with all your work and handlers, have you ever…” you bite your lip, “have you ever had sex?”

Mingyu pulls away to look down at you, and then he gives his head a small shake. “I’ve never had the time… never met the right person.”

A virgin sex bot, who’s ever heard of such a thing? 

“But,” he continues, “I have the base code for it, and with my people pleasing tendencies, I don’t think I’ll have any trouble making you feel good.”

“That was never in question,” you assure him, cupping his face and drawing your thumb across his cheekbone. “And tonight shouldn’t just be about me. I can take care of you too… in fact, the whole point of this wellness center is me looking after your needs, wouldn’t you agree?”

Mingyu blinks at you, and he makes no word of protest when you push at his chest, encouraging him to roll so his back is pressed to the mattress while you steady yourself on top of him, straddling his hips.

“We can take this slow,” you tell him, leaning down to kiss his lips before moving to his neck. “Let me know what makes you feel good.”

“You feel good,” he says, dragging his hands along your form. “Your body feels perfect.”

“Yeah?” You swivel your hips, rubbing your core against the large bulge forming in his pants. “Does it feel good when I grind on you?”

“Feels like heaven,” Mingyu confirms, fingers digging into your waist, encouraging you to apply more pressure when you rut against him.

“How about your neck?” you ask, pressing more kisses there. “Do you have any sweet spots?”

“I think… just below my ear-” Mingyu shivers when you lick the spot in question, and the reaction fuels your ego, making you more confident than ever. “Wow-” 

You find yourself giggling, teasing your hands over his white shirt and toying with the hem. “Can I take this off of you, Gyu?” 

“Gyu-” he repeats almost wistfully. “I mean, yeah, yes.” 

When you begin to tug the fabric up, Mingyu lifts his shoulders off the bed, aiding you in the removal of his shirt. 

You’ve seen him shirtless before, while in the pool, but you’d had to try really hard not to appreciate his body then. Now, you can fully lean into your lust for him. 

“You’re so beautiful, Gyu,” you whisper, tracing a nail along his washboard abs. 

“You are too-”

“But right now is about you,” you remind him. “Let me appreciate you, please?”

You return your mouth to his neck, suckling on the spot that makes him dig his fingers into your hips again. He lets out a pretty moan, and in return, you grind your core against his bulge, beginning the descent of your lips to his collarbone, then his chest-

“You know,” you breathe as you stop your mouth on his abs, looking up at him, “I’ve read that automatons can cum multiple times without needing to recharge… does that mean you’ll let me suck you off before I fuck you? Seeing as this is your first time, I wouldn’t want to skip over any milestones.”

“Please-” Mingyu’s hips push up almost involuntarily, and you have to settle your hands on his waist. “Are you… are you sure about this?”

“Are you?” 

“More than anything.”

“Then we’re on the same page,” you tell him, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his white joggers. “I’m going to take your pants off now.”

As he did with his shirt, Mingyu helps you undress him, lifting his hips to make it easier for you to slip the fabric down. You make a conscious decision to leave his briefs on, wanting to toy with him a little, to go slow-

When you cup his bulge, Mingyu moans loudly, and you look up at him with a cocked brow. “Very sensitive, hmm?”

“You just feel so good,” Mingyu groans. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“You’re so big,” you nearly whimper, squeezing his cock through his briefs.

“Nine inches,” he confirms. “Is that… is that okay?”

“It’s big,” you say again, playing with his briefs. You’d left them on to toy with him, but you’re pretty sure you’ve only successfully toyed with yourself. “Can I pull these down?”

“Please-” again, Mingyu lifts his hips, helping you remove his final piece of clothing. 

His large cock practically slaps up against his abs, and you groan at the sight. You suppose he’d been built by someone, made to be perfect, in every way, so you shouldn’t be surprised by how beautiful he is. Yet, you are. 

You wrap your hand around the base of his length. “I don’t think I’ll be able to fit much of you in my mouth,” you tell him honestly.

“That’s okay,” he assures you. “Your hand feels really good.”

“Does it?” You rub your thumb over the large vein that runs along the underside of his cock, appreciating how realistic he is. Of course, as an automaton, Mingyu’s body doesn’t really need veins, but it’s the thought that counts, and whoever designed Mingyu put a lot of thought into him. 

“So good-” Mingyu groans. 

You kitten lick the head of his cock and Mingyu moans louder. “You’re going to have to be a little quieter, Gyu,” you instruct. “Even though I love your sounds.”

“Okay, I’ll try-” he nods, watching you with a dazed expression.

This time, instead of just licking him, you wrap your whole mouth around his large tip, suckling on the skin. Mingyu lets out a small whimper, grabbing at the bed sheets. 

You’re not sure if Mingyu’s cock will feel the same type of skin irritation of dry strokes, but you want him to have the best experience possible, so you allow yourself to drool on his cock. You bob up and down on what can fit in your mouth while collecting the spit lubrication, rubbing it along his shaft and applying a good amount of pressure-

“Shit-” This must be the first time you’ve heard Mingyu cuss, and the thought delights you as you continue to blow him like your life depends on it. 

You close your eyes, getting lost in the feeling of pleasuring him. It’s been a while since you’ve slept with anyone, as working out of a wellness center doesn’t provide you with many opportunities to meet men, especially men who you like. But you really like Mingyu, in fact, part of you thinks you might even love him, as crazy as that sounds. 

You’d almost forgotten how good it feels to give this sort of attention to someone you care about, and your hand moves faster on his cock while you try to take more of him into your mouth.

“This feels amazing-” Mingyu breathes above you, and it gives you the motivation you need to be extra daring, allowing the tip of his cock to hit the back of your throat- “Fuck-” 

His hips push up slightly and you rest one of your hands on his abdomen again, encouraging him to stay still while you blow him. As much as you’d like to let him fuck your face, he’s simply too big to do that, especially when you haven’t had a cock in your mouth in months. 

You continue stroking him, but you pull your lips from his length, taking a breath and looking up at the gorgeous man. “Do you think you can cum for me, Gyu?”

“I can do anything for you,” he whispers back.

“Yeah?” you pump his cock harder, leaning down to lick the underside from base to tip. 

“Please-” he practically begs. “I think I’m close-”

With the way automatons often power down at night, you wonder if he’s ever even touched himself. If he’s ever actually cum before- but now’s not the right time to ask for details, not when your mouth needs to be on him again instead of talking. 

You go back to sucking on his cock, paying special attention to the sensitive tip while your hand works what your mouth can’t. All the while, Mingyu’s small sounds of pleasure keep you going, and they get pitchier and pitchier until you know he’s on the cusp of an orgasm.

“Oh my god,” he moans, “I’m gonna-”

The automaton can’t even finish his sentence, his whole body tensing as he explodes down your throat. You’re pleasantly surprised to find that his cum tastes like grape- and you’re reminded that sex bots have flavoured ejaculate. If you remember correctly, grape had been a flavour often given to the hopeless romantic/soft boy bots, and you realize how fitting it is.

You also realize that this might be why Mingyu’s been kept under such lock and key. If anyone had ever tasted his cum, they would have immediately made the sex bot connection. As far as you know, many non sex bots have flavourless cum, or something akin to the taste of a human’s but Gyu’s is one hundred percent sex bot and one hundred percent sexy. 

It actually tastes good, and you have no problems swallowing every drop, working Mingyu through his orgasm until he’s whimpering above you, reaching down to push the hair out of your face.

You pull off Mingyu’s cock, looking up at him to find the most blissed out automaton you’ve ever seen. “That was amazing,” he tells you. 

“I enjoyed that too,” you admit.

“You did?” He watches you sit up, undoing the buttons of your shirt. 

“Uh huh, you taste perfect, Gyu.”

“I do?” He looks almost bashful, and as handsome as ever. “I bet… I bet you taste good too.” 

Your pussy throbs and you let out a deep breath, removing your shirt. “Maybe you should see for yourself.”

“Fuck, yes, please-” Mingyu sits up abruptly, grabbing you and gently tossing you onto the bed next to him. You land on your back, and Mingyu is quick to get between your legs, lips finding your own.

He only kisses you for a moment before he begins a descent that’s similar to what you’d done to him, and you wonder if he’s using your own actions as a base for learning what to do in a sexual situation. 

His tongue teases over your collar bone and his large hand comes up to cup your breast. “Can I take your bra off?” he asks.

“You can take everything off,” you confirm, arching your back so he can slip his hand under you and undo the clasp in record speed.

Your breasts are now exposed to the cool air of your room, and your nipples pebble for Mingyu’s eager mouth. His lips wrap around a sensitive bud while his fingers begin to play with the other, teasing and gently pinching at you.

You moan, threading your own digits through his hair. “Feels so good, Gyu.”

He groans, teeth grazing your nipple and causing you to buck your hips, pushing up against his body-

“Please-” you whimper, and Mingyu seems to know exactly what to do with your begging. His hand slips between your bodies, and he works on the front of your pants while he continues to worship your chest. 

When he gets your button and zipper undone, his mouth continues it’s descent, both hands reaching to tug on your pants. You lift your hips, and in one motion, you find yourself completely naked. 

Mingyu’s much too big to lie on the foot of the bed, so he slips to the floor, grabbing your legs and pulling you closer. “You look so pretty,” he tells you, adjusting your thigh onto his shoulder while looking at your pussy. “So wet and perfect-”

You feel your skin heat with something like embarrassment, but the feeling quickly dissipates as soon as Mingyu brings his mouth to your core. 

He doesn’t start with kitten licks, but instead goes all in. His tongue pushes into your hole, nose brushing by your clit while he tastes your walls. The feeling is absolutely delightful and it makes you gasp, reaching down to thread your fingers through his soft hair, grinding yourself against his face.

“Mingyu,” you whimper, “just like that!”

He continues to eat you out, continually brushing his nose by your clit while you close your eyes and enjoy the sensation. His tongue is like magic, especially when he pulls it from your hole to circle your sensitive nub.

When you look down at him, you find him watching you, checking you for reactions, and the eye contact makes your stomach do flips. “You’re so good,” you tell him, knowing he likes praise.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and you cry out, hips pushing toward his face-

One of his large hands finds your abdomen, holding you down against the bed while the other slips between your legs, two fingers easily sliding into your hole beneath his tongue on your clit. 

The feeling has you grabbing at the sheets, orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “I’m close,” you tell him. “Please, Mingyu-”

He sucks on your clit even harder, pumping his fingers in and out of your wet hole until your pussy is clamping down on him and you’re cumming hard. You cry out, whole body alight with pleasure as he works you through your high, tongue circling your clit and causing tingles of euphoria to jitter through you until you’re bucking your hips and on the edge of overstimulation.

Mingyu pulls away from you, slowly pumping his fingers before removing them too. Then he brings his digits to his lips and you watch him lick them clean, groaning at your taste. 

You need him more than you’ve ever needed anyone in your entire life.

“Please, Gyu,” you whimper. “I need you inside of me-”

He stands from the foot of the bed, towering over you while you open your legs for him. Then one of his knees digs into the mattress and he’s joining you again, lifting you up so he can position you higher, with your head on the pillows. 

He grabs the base of his cock, looking down between your bodies to where he’s rubbing through your folds. “What if this hurts you?” he asks. 

“It won’t. You won’t,” you assure him, grabbing at his strong shoulders. “I trust you.”

He looks deep into your eyes, leaning down to kiss you before he begins to push into your wet hole. You moan against his lips, body working to accommodate the large intrusion that he so gently slides into you.

“You’re so tight,” he whimpers, “so warm.” 

“Only for you Gyu, only for you-”

He kisses you then, giving small thrusts until he’s burying himself completely, your bodies are flush together while you wrap your arms around the back of his neck. You’ve never felt anything like Mingyu, and when he takes his first real thrust, you cry out in pleasure, moaning desperately against his mouth.

His hand digs into your hips, keeping you anchored while he picks up his speed, and that’s when you remember that as an automaton, he can go as fast as he wants, for as long as he wants. 

He’s hitting spots deep inside of you, spots that have never truly been used until now, and you know that you’re not going to last long like this. 

When his lips move down to the sweet spot on your neck, you can feel your pussy clench around him, and Mingyu groans against your skin.

“You’re perfect,” he tells you, fucking you harder. “So perfect-”

You can’t even speak, can’t tell him that he’s the one who’s perfect. All you can do is moan in his ear while he makes you feel like no one else in the galaxy ever has.

You’d come into this hoping you’d be the one fucking him, the one taking care of him, but now, he’s taking care of you, and you promise yourself to return the favour when possible. You’d love to ride him, but your legs already feel like jelly, and when Mingyu slips a hand between your bodies again, drawing circles on your clit, you know you’ll be a goner soon.

“Gyu-” you whimper. “I’m so close-”

“I want you to cum,” he groans, fucking you faster. “Wanna make you cum.” 

“Please,” you’re nearly crying from how perfect it all feels. “So good, so good-”

“I’m close too,” he tells you. “Watching you cum will send me over- you’re so pretty when you cum.”

His praise makes your core throb again and you gasp, threading your fingers through his hair and bringing his lips to yours. You can’t explain it, but you want to be kissing him when you’re thrown over the edge, want to be completely consumed by him-

“Gyu-” you whimper, closer and closer-

He kisses you harder while he fucks you stupid, taking your breath away until you’re gasping out as you fall over the edge, pussy clamping down hard on his cock.

He moans into your mouth, pace never faltering as he fucks you through your orgasm, working you for all you’re worth while you claw at his shoulders and whimper pathetically. 

You can feel him filling you up, coating your insides with his cum, making you his needy little whore. You feel greedy for it, for all of it, for all of him. 

His thrusts slowly come to a stop, and he pulls away from your lips to look down at you, watching you catch your breath. “Would it be crazy to tell you I love you?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No crazier than me returning the sentiment.”

“Really?” His mouth is on yours a moment later, and he kisses you with newfound passion.

It’s easy to get lost in his lips again, even while his cock is still buried balls deep in your pussy, and you wrap your arms tighter around the back of his neck, hoping he never leaves you.

It seems as though the same thought is on Mingyu’s mind, because when he pulls away, he asks, “What happens after all of this?”

“I’m not sure,” you admit. “But… no matter what, I’m going to fight for you. I promise.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh. I’ve worked in this facility for years- I’ve watched level ones come in and out of here, seen the wear and tear, the use of bad coding. I’ve got lots of ideas on how to help you - and them - get better. If you’re not the only one with sex bot code, it would explain a lot of the issues I’ve seen-”

“Are you going to fix me?” the automaton asks.

For some reason, you find yourself laughing. “Mingyu,” you cup his face, thinking through all the events that have led you to this moment. “I could never fix you, you don’t need to be fixed. In fact… I think you fixed me.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I had so much fun with this collab, find the masterlist for it here

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🔮 preview. He’s an AI with sexbot coding and a one track mind when it comes to making love, and you honestly sort of love that about him. 

cw/ tw. Sad Gyu, distraction sex, pussy eating, pussy stretching, fingering, blowjob, unprotected sex, teasing, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, praise, big dick mingyu, switchy/submissive leaning Mingyu, hair pulling, breast worship, mention of the classic sex bot flavoured ejaculate, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 600

🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been months since Mingyu came to the wellness centre, and everything has been going above expectation for him. He’s doing brand endorsements again and his management team has done a great job smoothing over the escape that took place.

You’ve been working on his coding, using behavioral   therapies, and Mingyu’s aggression is at an all time low. He’s happy most days, and you are too… that is, until you get word that one of his band mates has been recaptured.

Against all your protests, his management team insists that Mingyu return to Earth to see the AI Mingyu knows as Dino. It’s a brief trip, and the fourty eight hours he’s gone feel like the longest in your life. There’s no way of knowing how this reconnection with a former ‘friend’ will affect Mingyu, and you brace yourself for damage control as you wait for his ship to land, returning him to your care.

He’s frowning as he exits the shuttle, and when he pulls you into a hug, he squeezes just a little too tight. “Come inside,” you tell him softly when he releases you. “I’m sure we have a lot to talk about.”

He says nothing, but he holds your hand as you lead him into the facility, walking unopposed to your quarters. Mingyu’s in your sole care, and your manager, Yoongi, has washed his hands of anything dealing with your new AI turned lover. You prefer it this way.

Mingyu’s quiet as you close your bedroom door, and he walks over to collapse onto your bed, staring at the floor.

“Take your time,” you say softly, sitting next to him and resting your hand on his back. “When you’re ready to talk, tell me what happened.”

Mingyu fidgets with a ring on his pinky- a ring that all his AI members used to share. He’s silent for a few minutes, and you wait patiently, rubbing his back and leaning against his shoulder.

“They wiped his memory,” Mingyu says finally. “Dino. They wiped him.”

You study his face, looking for any micro expressions, but Mingyu’s gaze is blank as he stares at the floor.

“Did they tell you why they decided to do that?” you ask, trying to be gentle with him.

“They said he was too far gone. He was away for months. They said there was no other way to get him back to the way he was… but he’s not the way he was. He never will be.” Mingyu takes a deep breath. “I asked them why they wouldn’t try rehab, why they couldn’t send him here- they said Dino gave up that opportunity when he ran away. I stayed, I gave myself up willingly, which is why they thought there was hope for me. Something about my actions being like a guilty plea, lessening the sentence. But Dino evaded them for months.”

You take a moment to consider everything he’s said. 

If this is the precedent that his management is setting, that means none of his other bandmates can be recaptured, or they’ll suffer the same fate… if not worse. You can’t imagine what they’d do to Seungcheol, who was the ringleader in all of this- and you don’t want to think about it too deeply.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“You didn’t do anything,” Mingyu says meekly. “I know you tried to convince them to send him here but- I guess not everyone gets a happy ending. In fact, I’m starting to think most people like me never will.”

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[chaos-chloe]

I have a request for the Clooless guys

Could it be the Clooless guys meeting the reader in person for the first time at a like at a mall or a fair. The twist is the reader has never shown their face so they don’t know what they look like. So the reader decides to have fun with them. Following them around and sending the guys photos of them in a group chat. This is flustering them because clearly the reader can see them but they can’t find them. Eventually they walk up to the group pretending to be a fan wanting a photo, they get it, then send it to the group chat ending their little game. The reader apologizes offers to pay for a meal and some drinks as an apology and they all have a fun night.

I hope your having a good day or night

Fairly Clueless - Clooless/Pezzy x reader

Summary: Faceless reader/youtuber plays mind games with the guys

TW: cursing, lmk if I missed anything <3

As I was leisurely walking up to the ticket stand, I grabbed my season pass out of my small black purse that was slung over my left shoulder. The girl saw my pass and let me walk through without a word, which made me quite paranoid. I kept my head on a swivel making sure no one is recording or recognizing me. My hair was flowing down my shoulders, ending at the bottom of my back. 

I kept walking around the vendor section looking for a certain small trinket, to add to my collection of weird little things. My eyes spotted a copper witch broom besom on a skull, as I was about to grab it another hand snagged it up. My eyes trailed their arm up to their face, my eyes widened and I backed up slowly, it was Droids as in ElasticDroid. My eyes wandered around the open area and saw the guys trying to meet up with Droid. 

I played it cool and kept looking around at the vendors table, I was listening into the guys conversation. 

“Droid, we finally found you. Why do you keep moving while we are trying to meet up with you man?” Puffer asked, annoyed .

“Dude, I’m sorry but look what I found! Isn’t it cool, like um uh ____ would have?” Droid questioned excitedly.

“It’s slightly creepy, not gonna lie. But it does seem like ____ would have that on her shelf.” Grizzy responded wearily, he kept his eyes on it.

“Droid, are you buying that for her?” Pezzy asked.

“Duh, of course I am. Why else would I have it in my hand?” Droid snarked back at Pezzy, the guys laughed together. 

I sneakily walked away from the group, I had a master plan forming in my head. I took out my phone to make it look like I was trying to take a picture of the surrounding venue, but really I was taking a picture of the guys.  They were laughing at Droid, as he took out his wallet to pay for my “surprise” new trinket. I opened Discord to send a text. 

*PICTURE*

{You guys look like you are having at that vendor's table ;)}

Before I sent that non-cryptic message, I started walking away, so they wouldn’t see me being suspicious. 

Droid

{Uh what?} 

Pezzy 

{when did you decide to move to Texas, WHAT?!}

Puffer

{Definitely not creepy at all ____}

Grizzy

{Nah this is why I stay home, ____)

{whattttt noooo, definitely not creepy Puffer. <3)

{I always lived in Texas Pezzy}

{love you droid *mwah*}

{Grizzy shush, you love meee}

Droid 

{_____ where are you?}

Grizzy

{yeah, let’s meet up}

Puffer

{Nah, we hate woman lol}

Pezzy

{true fuck woman LMAO}

{I’m really feeling the love guys}

{maybe we will meet up after I do some browsing, and looking at the animals *mwah*}

I put my phone away in my purse and pulled some cash out and stuffed the bills in my pocket. I walked to wing 3B, where they kept the animals. I found a table where you can buy a bucket of food for the fur babies, after my transaction I marched my way through people with a purpose to feed the babies. I reached my first destination of a pen with a momma goat feeding her kids, I tiptoed over to her, grabbed a handful of feed and stretched my arm over the chicken wire fence to have my hand right there in front of her face. Momma goat finally relaxed when she realized I wasn’t here to harm, but to help her take care of her and the babies, she ate right out of my left hand. 

After the goat finished eating I moved onto the other animals, while walking around I spotted the guys again and snapped a quick picture once I got my phone out of my purse. 

*PICTURE*

{Hmmm, you guys must be Clooless} 

{hehhe}

Puffer

{Hahah I see what you did there}

Grizzy

{Reallll funnny}

Pezzy

{*face palm*}

Droid

{ahaha what?} 

{cmon on droid keep up with me}

I put my phone up in one of my pockets in my bottoms. Walking away from the scene to the next animals, llamas. As I was feeding one of the dark caramel colored llamas, I heard a set of footsteps walk up to me. I spun on my heel being face to face with Pezzy, I saw Puffer slowly walking to Pezzy. 

“Yes? How can I help you?” I asked politely, trying not to be suspicious.

“I just wanted to say that my friends but mostly me, think you are really beautiful. Is there any way I can get your number?” Pezzy answered my question with another question. I shifted on the soles of my feet, thinking about it. *they don’t have my number, so might as well give it to them and fuck around with Pezzy later*

“Um yeah sure, do you want to write it down or type it into your phone?” I agreed 

“Oh yeah, my bad.” Pezzy fumbled to get his phone out of his left pocket. He opened his message app and I quickly typed my number in with a contact name of ____.

“Text me later okay?” I suggested with a smile and wave goodbye

“Will do, _____.” Pezzy smiled and walked off 

I was giggling with a small jiggle in my body as I walked to different sections. My brain is reeking with excitement and ideas of how to fully fuck with them and reveal myself to them at the same time. After feeding and visiting all the animals and seeing all the children light up with smiles, I took myself outside to go explore the fair games set up. 

When I arrived at the games, the boys minus Pezzy were standing around with a drink in their hands laughing and picking on each other. I walked shyly up to them acting like I was a fan wanting a picture or a hug.

“I’m so sorry to disturb y’all but is there any way I can take a picture with y’all or at least a hug?” I asked with my cheeks turning a bit pink. 

“Oh my god, yes. C’mon Grizzy take the photo.” Droid said excitedly and set his bag on the ground. I handed my phone to Grizzy, then all of us got in frame, made a funny face and clicked! Photo success!

“If you want, Pezzy should be back any minute if you want one with him.” Grizzy suggested while Puffer was giving me a hawk eye like he was trying to figure me out.

“I would love to, but I have to start heading home. Thank you again, y’all stay safe.” I wish them luck and hopefully I don’t get caught just yet. 

I walked back to my car, unlocked the driver side and slid onto the seat. I took a deep breath to calm my heart rate, my heart feels like it is beating out of my chest. Once my keys were in the ignition and my phone hooked up to my bluetooth stereo, I opened the groupchat to reveal my “prank” on the guys. 

*PICTURE*

{it was nice meeting you guys <3}

Grizzy

{nah, no way you playing?!}

Puffer 

{I TOLD YOU GUYS SHE WAS SUS}

Droid 

{WHAT?! I WAS PLAYED WITH BEFORE I WAS TAKEN TO DINNER}

{I CANT BELIEVE THIS BULLLL SHIT}

Pezzy

{....____?}

{Hi guyssss, I hope you all aren't too mad?}

{I was nervous, don't fully expect me to have face cam on now lol}

{yes, pezz?}

Puffer

{Pezzy you really sought after her didnt you?}

Pezzy

{I DIDNT KNOW ON GOD PUFFER}

Droid

{Now you lost me and grizz}

{we are starting at eachother like 2 big idiots}

Puffer

{you know how pezzy surprisingly got a girls number}

Pezzy

{SHUT UP PUFFER}

Grizzy

{OMG YOU ASKED ____ AND DINT KNOW IT WAS HER!?!?}

Droid

{Pezzy just has that aura mannn}

{well i wasnt gonnnaa say anything…}

{I DIDNT want to put him on the spot like that, cmon puff}

Puffer

{what?! Someone had to dude}

{anywayyyys, I’m heading to Waffle House yall. Yall coming as well? My treat?}

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 12

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I'm having too much fun with this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you enter, you hear Leslie. It's an unusual homecoming as you're used to only the blare of the television and swaths of cigarette smoke. Both are missing as you peek into the living room.

“Now, Charles, you heard me,” the nurse chides.

“Yeah, I got it,” your dad says with less spite than usual, “this one.”

Dread curdles in your stomach. The call you got at lunchtime was short and Leslie assured you all was well but you couldn’t tell if she was only being polite. You could hear your father yelling in the background.

You look around the door frame and find your father sitting forward on the couch, one hand on the handle of his oxygen tank as his shoulders obscure his other. You tiptoe closer as Leslie sits in one of the wooden chairs from the dining room. You spot the half-finished jigsaw puzzle on the coffee table as you come forward. 

“Well, give it a try,” she encourages and he pushes the piece into another. He grunts, a noise with some pride. “Looking good, Charles.”

You've never heard anyone talk to your dad like that. Not without being told to cut the shit. And no one ever calls your dad anything but ‘Chuck’.

“Yeah, yeah,” he sounds almost bashful.

“Ah, hello,” Leslie sees you first, “come on in.”

You put your bag down and cautiously inch forward. Your dad doesn’t acknowledge you but that’s not too unusual. You stop behind the couch as he puts another piece in place.

“And how was your day?” The nurse asks in a sunny tone.

“Um… good,” you answer. You don’t usually get that question.

“You look tired. Must have been a long one,” she remarks.

“Mhmm,” you stare at the puzzle as your dad continues to piece it together. You’ve never seen him do anything but watch television or doze on the couch. And rarely without a cigarette between his lips.

“Been a good day for us, too. Me and Charles are just getting to know each other,” she grins.

Still, your dad is silent.

“Charles, come on, say hi, your daughter’s home,” she scolds.

“Hi,” he grunts. She sighs.

“You’re a funny man,” she tuts and stands up, “I got another hour,” she faces you, “why don’t we have a chat?”

“Sure,” you accept and she takes the lead, waving you into the kitchen. Your father mutters to himself as he holds a handful of pieces and picks through them. You give him one last look before you follow the nurse.

Leslie turns to you as she stops just by the counter, “no more cigarettes. We got in a row about the things but I tossed ‘em.”

“Huh?” You can’t help the shock bulging behind your eyes.

“Yep, and he ate all his vegetables,” she smirks proudly, “I know it’s hard to say no to our loved ones but I don’t wanna come back to a fresh pack tomorrow.”

“Uh, yeah, I…” you don’t try to excuse yourself. You don’t buy him smokes, he finds a way, but you still gave up arguing about them.

“I also have some information for you. Some stuff about diet and all that. The meals you made are lovely but there are some recommended staples for his condition that would be better,” she explains, “and an exercise plan. Light duty but he can’t be on that couch all day.”

“Thanks so much,” you say, “I really appreciate it. I… I’m so sorry it’s such a mess-”

“Are ya kidding me? I’ve walked into much worse. He’s a bit crotchety but no skin off my back,” she scoffs, “don’t worry, hon, I got it.”

You could cry. You feel the weight slowly lifting from your shoulders; still there but less. It’s not just having help, it’s having someone to guide you, someone you can speak your concerns to. Someone who can tell you you’re doing the right things.

🧹

It’s eerie entering the house knowing that you’re completely alone. The leash is no slacker without its holder near. You still feel the oppression of the empty house, curtains drawn and shadows pooling.

It won’t be for long. The carpenter will be there soon to inspect the gazebo and the landscapers are due for their scheduled work in the garden. There’s enough to keep you busy and unaware of your employer’s absence.

Still, it’s a strange feeling to walk those empty halls. You half-expected Mr. Laufeyson to appear and berate you, as if he is a wraith who does not abide time or space. He doesn’t and you press on, holing up in the library for the morning.

There’s another mystery in the folder. A riddle you can’t solve. A page taken from a notebook, with little flowers framed around the lines. It’s a list but it’s not for this place. It can’t be. As far as you know, there isn’t a fire pit around here or a lake… both are mentioned among the clustered bullet points.

You earmark it but don’t know if you’ll ever get to it. You want to ask Mr. Laufeyson but then, you’re not sure he would even know. It could be something only his wife would be privy to. You wouldn’t want to reopen old wounds.

You go down to the kitchen to eat your lunch. A plain peanut butter sandwich on whole wheat, the same thing you have every day. It isn’t much but it’s enough to keep you going. You wipe up stray crumbs and put the container back in your bag. 

The doorbell rings just as you come back to the staircase. You descend and for a moment, you let yourself pretend that this is your home. That you are the lady of the estate. That all these fine ornaments and the sprawling gardens belong to you. The fantasy dissolves as you reach the last step.

You go out to meet the new arrival at the gate. It must be the carpenter as the landscapers can let themselves in. You recall his name is Ronan from your brief phone call. You remember because it seemed so unique.

He’s a tall man, hunching slightly as he sees you approach between the slats of iron. You pull the gate open from within and muster a smile to welcome him. You’re at a loss as you can eke out only a mousish ‘hi’.

He says your name, tenuously, as if he isn’t sure.

“That’s me, sir,” you close the gate gently behind him. As he steps past you, his height becomes even more obvious. In his hand, he has a brown leather bag, squarish and bulky. “You’re the carpenter, Ronan?”

“Yes,” he answers as he looks around, “this is a nice place.”

“Erm, thanks,” you utter, “well, er, I suppose I should show you…”

You trail off and scurry around him. You hear him following as the contents of his bag shifts noisily with each step. You take him around the back and divert away from your usual route. You lead him into the thick brush that overgrows the path to the gazebo. You stop before the derelict structure as he comes up beside you.

“There’s a hole in the floor and one of the pillars is cracked,” you explain, pointing, “just wondering if it can be repaired.”

“Ah,” he takes a breath and lets out a thoughtful hum. 

You peek over as his pale blue eyes examine the steps and front columns. He steps forwards and sets his bag on the lowest step before climbing up. His footsteps sound hollow as he traverses the wood, walking the perimeter, stopping to check the broken post and then the boards across the floor. He squats to get a closer look as you remain where you are, rubbing your sweaty palms together.

“I’ve seen worse,” he declares as he stands, his voice booming as he rolls into the open air. He comes back to the archway and rests his hand on the top of the railing, “definitely not a lost cause. Did you have anything in mind for the restoration?”

You shake your head, “I’d have to ask my boss.”

“Your boss?” He wonders as he comes down the stairs and bends to unbuckle his bag.

“Uh, yes, I just… I’m… the house manager?” You say uncertainly. “He’s out of town so I’m seeing to the property.”

“Oh,” he takes out a measuring tape and a level. “I thought it was yours.”

You almost laugh. It's flattering that he would assume that. You just smile sheepishly.

“Well, I’ll have to do a proper inspection, check the integrity for sure, but I’ll leave you my notes. What needs to be tended to, my suggestions…” he says, “when it’s ready, where would I find you?”

“Oh, well… I’ll… I’ll be working on the patio,” you point back to the house as the idea flashes through your mind. Without Mr. Laufeyson, you can enjoy the sunlight. “I’ll be there.”

“Right, thank you miss,” he faces the gazebo and squares his shoulders. You feel as if you’re missing something.

“Um, sir,” you begin, “would you like some water?”

You think that’s right. You should be polite. It’s what Frigga would you think and she seems to know everything.

“That’s very kind of you but no thanks,” he says as he begins up the stairs again.

You twiddle your fingers as you stay there for a moment and watch him. That wasn’t as bad as you expected. It’s always difficult meeting new people. While he’s not overly friendly, he’s not rude or scary or anything like that. He’s just there to do his work, much like you.

You turn on your heel and leave him. Your excitement builds as you trace your way to the backdoor. You can’t wait to bring your things out and sit on the patio. It will be a nice breath of fresh air. Literally.

🧹

Your first day alone proves to be the calmest since you began working for Mr. Laufeyson. You can’t help but bask in the peace of his absence. Even so, you are mindful to stay within his lines. You haven’t forgotten the camera on the mantle.

You leave the house after double-checking that the security is enabled and the doors are all locked. The gate clunks loudly into place and you shake it just to be sure. You exhale and turn off down the street, eager to get home and relieve Leslie of her duties.

The bus comes on time and you find a seat, staring out at the city as it passes. You hug your bag in your lap as you recognize that moment. That rare occasion where you’re not bound up in knots. There is no Mr. Laufeyson to shadow and rebuke you. And your father is taken care of and seemingly content. 

As you get off at your stop, you take your time as the sky sets slowly above. You are met by a similar scene as the previous night. Your father is at the coffee table, bent over as he pushes pieces into each other. Leslie is singing in the kitchen as she tidies and looks up as you enter.

“Ah, hello hon,” she beams cheerily, “dinner’s in the oven for ya.”

“Um, oh, thanks, you didn’t have to…”

“More than enough,” she smiles, “long day?”

“Not too bad,” you glance back over your shoulder into the living room, “how was he?”

You turn back and she cackles, “I’m sure you know how he can be. He’s calming down a bit. We got in a right tiff over the cigarettes again but he ran out of air to bluster.”

“Oh…” you scratch your neck, “I’m sorry, I hope he’s not too much.”

“Like I said, nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” she shrugs.

You nod and return to the living room. You near your father as he rubs his chin. He’s almost done the puzzle.

“Wow, you got a lot done,” you comment. 

“Eh, cause I don’t got you to distract me,” he flicks his fingers at you derisively.

You wince and back away. A sigh escapes you. You’re too tired to try. As you retreat, you can’t help but stumble in realisation. There’s something happening to you. Some sort of indifference. Apathy, maybe?

You look back at your father. You love him and you desperately want to make him happy and healthy. You want him to be proud of you. You want him to tell you that you’re good enough and yet you just don’t have the energy to keep fighting him. 

When you see how he is with Leslie, it feels as if he’s taunting you. He can be nice to her, he will listen to her, he will talk to her, but you, you’ll never earn that. Thirty years and you just aren’t worthy.

Well, he is happier and healthier than he was. It doesn’t matter that it has nothing to do with you. It only matters that he’s okay. It’s all you ever wanted for him.

You take your bag up to your room and trade it for a paperback. You come back down and sit on the porch until she’s gone. You go inside and lock up, your father still sitting vigil at the puzzle. You notice his grey hair is tidy and clean. He wears a shirt that isn’t wrinkled and he looks more lively.

You ask him if he needs anything before you go to bed. He doesn’t answer. You leave him to the puzzle and pack away the dinner Leslie left for you. You’re not very hungry. 

You put both your phones on the night table beneath the lamp. You keep the light on as you finish the chapter, or try to. You doze off, awaking only as a buzzing rattles the wooden table against the side of your bed. 

You move the book off your chest and mark the page. You reach for the phone as you sit up. It unlocks with the tap of your thumb and the alert covers the screen. ‘Movement detected’. Oh!

Mr. Laufeyson enabled the app for the lock system while he’s away. The abrupt swipe of the phone from your hands was startling but it wasn't exactly yours to begin with. The memory plucks at you as if you should have seen this coming.

You rub your eyes as you press the alert and check the time in the corner. It’s nearly two in the morning! You jolt out of bed and stagger on your feet. Oh no!

Did you leave something unlocked? Maybe it’s just a squirrel or the wind? No, it says it was the front door. Shoot! Should you call him? Would he get the alert too?

You scramble to find some clothes. You pull on a pair of greyish blue sweatpants and a hoodie. You don’t have time to worry about how you look. You have to get to the house.

You snatch up your work bag, too frantic to fish out your change purse, and barrel down the stairs. Mindless of the noise or disturbing the silence, you race out the door, slamming it and locking it shakily behind you. You run up to the curb as you dial a taxi service.

Was the gate really locked when you left? Did you put the security code in right? A thousand doubts crowd your head and churn your stomach. It doesn’t matter, all you know is you messed up again.

[vividraft]

tacet discord matchmaker ! *ੈ✩‧₊˚ - where he more or less, accidentally confesses his love to you ⋆·˚ ༘ *

⇢ ˗ˏˋ characters: Jiyan

⇢ ˗ˏˋ readers gender not specified !

⇢ ˗ˏˋ important note: This is shorter than i wanted it to be, but I gotta post something! I'm also still trying to get used to writing for wuwa characters

⇢ ˗ˏˋ a/n: Thank you guys for all the support!!

masterlist

Again and again, you tried your best to help in battle. Even if Jiyan repeatedly told you not too. You should probably listen to him, since he is the general and all, yet you can’t let him on the battlefield alone. You couldn’t stand seeing him fight out there alone. 

Not when you held him so dear to you, so no matter what he said to you, you weren’t willing to watch him fight without your help. It’s not like you couldn’t defend yourself. You were a resonator after all. 

Yet you made a tiny mistake. A tiny slip up was all it took for you to get hurt, and now you are sitting back at the camp. No matter how much you insisted you were okay, Jiyan ended up dragging you back to get you patched up.

“Alright I’m all fixed up now let’s go back-”, you jumped up from the mat you were sitting on, a silent attempt to prove that you were fine, and could keep going.

“No you’re staying here, you’re not going back on the battlefield with a still bleeding wound”, Jiyan pushed you back down on your shoulders while speaking. 

“Jiyan I swear I’m fine and I can keep going, it barely even hurts”, you stared up at him.

“I will follow you whether you want me to or not, so either we can head back together or I’ll go on my own”, you grinned at him like you just won. 

“I’ll have someone else keep an eye on you. You’re not going anywhere until that wound is fine again y/n”, Jiyan crossed his arms. 

“But-”

“No buts. I cannot let you get back out there. We have this conversation every single time y/n”, Jiyan was already ready to leave again. 

“Yeah we wouldn’t have this conversation every time if you would just let me help you out there, but you treat me like a child that can’t fend for themselves”, you leaned back against the wall in frustration, already thinking of a plan how to get out of here. 

“You know that that’s not true y/n. I just care about you and won’t let you tire yourself out extremely just so you can get what you want!”, this was already running out of control. 

“It’s not about me getting what I want Jiyan! Do you not see that I’m doing all this just-”

“Of course I see it!”

“Then why won’t you just let me help! Do you think I’m fucking weak? Do you think I can’t fend for myself! Am I a bother to you out there on the battlefield?!”, tears were starting to cling at the corner of your eyes, and you shot up to bore your finger into Jiyans chest. 

“What- no! None of those things are true and you know it!”, people around you have stopped in their tracks to watch you two argue. 

Anyone else would have been scared standing in front of Jiyan, with him right in front of you shouting right back at you. Not you though. Not when you have known this man since as long as you can remember. 

“Then what is your reason for always keeping me out and away from the battlefield huh?!”, Jiyan didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at you. He looked around locking eyes with all the people who stopped to watch, some being send back to work with a mere look into Jiyan’s eyes. 

“Come on, answer me! Don’t ignore me like I am not standing right in front of you!”

“Y/n we’re not doing this right here”, Jiyan took your hand away from his chest and put it down. 

“Oh what so your solution is to run away again? You always do this!”, a tear has fallen from your eye by now, and without caring who or how many people were watching, you just kept on shouting at Jiyan. 

To be really honest with yourself, you couldn’t care less if he hated you for making him angry all the time. He could hate you more than anyone in the world, and it was okay with you. It was all okay with you, as long as you could still make sure that he was okay. 

Even if it was from afar. 

“Y/n, stop-”

“It’s not fair! Everyone else gets to be out there, fighting by your side except for me! What did I do?!”, tear after tear fell, but the words which came out of your mouth expressed nothing except for pure anger. 

Jiyan has always been unpredictable, in battle, in conversation or even in his actions. But never this unpredictable. 

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer, to whisper in your ear, attempting to not let anyone else hear his words, since they were only meant for you. 

“I’m doing this because I love you, y/n. Is that reason enough for you?”

Indeed an effective way to shut someone up. 

“Jiyan I-”, all words were knocked out of your vocabulary, and your eyes wandered to the floor. In shame maybe? 

How did you never notice? I mean you and him had the same reasons for your actions. Maybe you were a little blind.

You wanted him to know how you felt about him as well. But was now the right moment to let him know? The hand he had on your wrist has now wandered down to your hand, and it remained there. It was warm. Warmer than yours for sure. 

“Jiyan I… love you too. I love you too”, you replied. 

Suddenly a voice interrupted. 

“General! General Jiyan! The wave of Tacet Discords has been defeated. Shall we go back to our usual patrol routines?”

“Oh- yes in that case, return to your routines. I will be joining you in a little while. Please inform the magistrate and her assistant that everything has been dealt with”, it always amazed you how quickly Jiyan’s brain could be back on track, no matter how distracted he was before. 

“Well-”, you started, looking for words to summarize the feeling in your heart but could find none. And luckily you didn’t have to.

“Y/n you need to understand, the only reason that I try my hardest to keep you off the battlefield is because I know how terrifying it can be. If you fight for anybody, it should be for yourself. Not for me. With so many TDs out there as there were today, I would hate to have you fight while being injured. And yes I am very well aware that you can fend for yourself, but that doesn’t take away how worried I get”, Jiyan’s eyes kept flicking from the floor to the expressions you wore on your face. 

Never have you seen him so… Emotional? Is that the right word?

“Y/n, I am truly sor-”, there was no way you would let him apologize to you after all that. Quickly, you cut him off with a kiss. Catching him off guard has always been a challenge, but like this, it was easier than ever. 

“Don’t apologize. Not for something like this”

taglist: @lupicalbestwolf

[marvelousmagicalaura]

I have a bunch of theories about The Lost Metal and Era 3, particularly about what Sazed is planning.

Sazed has master plans

I know this may end up being an unpopular opinion. But to me the story came across as if Sazed has been operating as the Chessmaster the entire time, all part of a coordinated effort to outmaneuver Autonomy. An effort to make her withdraw her army and interest in Telsin. I think a lot of little quotes in The Lost Metal, and certain quotes in the previous books, point to Sazed subtly maneuvering everyone - Wax, Wayne, Marasi, Kelsier and his Ghostbloods, Marsh, Tobal and Maraga, Steris (?). All with very powerful, very subtle future sight to make specific outcomes come to fruition.

Since chapter 19 I suspected Sazed had a plan in motion, one that needed him to arrange “help” unaware they were mobilized to be the “help.” One that required him to play games over and over with Autonomy. This suspicion came back once Wax speculated he always intended for him to be the Sword that stops a God Metal bomb.

Chapter 71 confirmed aspects of future sight I was curious about… ever since I started analyzingthe Terris Prophecies. Sazed confirmed that he sees future possibilities, automatically analyzes something as complex as a harmonium-trellium bomb, think much faster than mortals, and can discern the probabilities of an action (i.e. 1% chance of success, 99% chance of failure). Sazed even fleshed out what Fuzz warned Kelsier - even future sight as great as Preservation’s can be wrong. Sazed also confirmed that while Shards see future possibilities and analyze probabilities, they don’t always know the “why” of a possibility. Such as “why” it is good. This eased my suspicions.

But then Kelsier’s epilogue came along. While I don’t think Sazed is acting “all is perfectly according to keikaku,” he’s acting close enough. I think he was ultimately keeping certain, ultimate future outcomes in mind. The responses to Kelsier’s frustration made alarm bells ring in my mind:

"I had it in hand."

"Luck is a different thing to a god who can see futures, I think."

"I have it in hand."

"People should discover it on their own. If they do not, there are subtle consequences."

What if Sazed always knew Trell was Autonomy? After all Autonomy created Trelagism, and we know from book 3’s epilogue that Preservation hid “gems” in Trelagism to help the Hero of Ages. What if he let Autonomy’s plans get to this stage, knowing he could efficiently arrange pieces that could stop her? Or maybe he bet it would be the perfect event to encourage the continents to advance and progress?

What if Sazed was betting on Wax fulfilling his duties after the Lessie fiasco? What if he intentionally molded Wayne into the Slider who could accomplish the partial detonation? What if he knows the history of Scadrian eugenics and discerning what could happen if he directly GIVES knowledge of future tech?

His name shall be Discord, and they shall love him for it.

It’s obvious that Sazed is becoming Discord. Or perhaps, he’s already Discord by the time of Kelsier’s epilogue.

There’s clearly something going on with Sazed’s Shard, we just don’t know what. Harmony’s Intent left him unable to act, creating a state where every action needs equilibrium between P&R’s attributes. And there was a dark shadow throughout TLM. Kelsier speculates the shadow exists because Ruin was always stronger. Marsh’s interview with Khriss implies it may be the result of Ruin being subservient to Preservation.

My theory is Discord will be a good thing. Sazed directly educated Wax and Wayne about the bomb’s mechanics AND told them how to detonate it. Dulled the wave coming over Wax. Arranged for under 10 people to foil Autonomy’s complex plans, while his future sight was BLINDED. This is the most effective he’s been yet. I think Discord will be a Shard representing Sazed’s realization that Ruin and Preservation can’t always be in exact balance. Sometimes, Preservation’s attributes are needed most. Other times, Ruin’s attributes are needed most. I believe this mindset allow him to act, to commit actions that are EITHER of Preservation or Ruin.

I think Sazed is just trying to carefully move through his web of future possibilities. Preservation seemingly foresaw Discord will be a good thing. But if Sazed makes the wrong move, I bet he could invalidate that prediction.

How to make the Bands of Mourning, Excisors, unkeyed metalminds

Unkeyed metalminds contain attributes that aren’t attached to a Feruchemist’s Identity. But without Full Feruchemists, it’s impossible for a sole Feruchemist to create an unkeyed metalmind.

My theory is the Southern Scadrians are extensively using the same method as the Set’s keep-people-alive Hemalurgy. I think to create an unkeyed metalmind, Southerners are using a Command and a very thin duralumin spike. This would rip off a piece of the Feruchemist’s Identity, making any future storing Identity-less.

I think the Excisors are nicrosil and/or duralumin spikes.

The Bands of Mourning is the really tough cookie. Kelsier is no longer an Allomancer and definitely not a Feruchemist, so he couldn’t use his own powers to create the Bands. There’s no way he used Northerners to make them. There are a lot of logistics issues. My theory is Sazed directly created the Bands of Mourning and guided Kelsier into hiding it.

It wouldn’t be the first time Sazed subtly helped the Southerners. Sazed gave them harmonium and a perpendicularity, and we’ve seen how well they’ve been used.

[tripolishigh]

Welcome to Tripolis high.

We Welcome you to Tripolis High, a high school made for everyone.

We encourage students to be themselves and to be unique in their own way. We have been inspiring students since 14th of May 1940.

Our staff made this account to keep an eye on students as well as give important announcements! We do have a Snow ball on the way!

We also welcome back our old students! We hope your new school year starts out better than the last and you spend yet again a wonderful time this year. We know exams will be stressful for the oldest ones but do not panic and study well, a lot of you have great potential.

Anyways let’s get to the fun part!

If anyone here wants to join an after school activity, please do! We have quite a lot to offer!

Gardening club

Acting club

Music club

Cooking club

Art club

Science and tech club

Football/basketball/soccer clubs

Film club

History club

Literature club

Dance club

Journalism club

Robotics club

Cheer leading

Student council

Student council is up and running, if anyone wants to apply for a position, please contact us and make a plan for what you think this school needs.

We also are opening president debate!! 2 students will fight for the role of Student council president. A poll will be set and cast the best president for their school.

Thank you all for reading and staying.

-Tripolis High Staff.

OOC:

Finally an account for the school!

This is made by me @mikeydraws and @isityuno

This is a Highschool DC AU, this is mostly about young DC heroes like Young Justice! This is a big project me and Yuno finally brought to daylight, thanks to the encouragement from a few friends of ours. They are also part of this au as characters.

The full list of people in this is all on the pinned account of @jaimereyesbug Which is mine! I run it :)

Thank you to all the people who already joined this is an absolute delight to be apart of, if this AU gains a bigger audience and more people want to join we will open our very own Discord server. But before that I wanna apply some rules

OCs and self-inserts

- this is absolutely fine, don’t feel bad about adding an oc or a self-insert, we accept those and you won’t be judged.

Canon characters

- if a canon character is already taken then don’t bother making your own version of it, we won’t accept them. The reason being is that it will be so confusing for us and keeping track of it, it’s better if we keep it simple.

Older characters

- we accept older characters, like Bruce, dick or Wally. However they won’t be too much focused on as young DC characters are the main voice of the Roleplay, I won’t allow Bruce as a teenager so don’t even try, this will make it weird since we already have a Damian.

NSFW and inappropriate things

- you will get instantly reported and blocked, this is a high school au, most characters are under the age of 18-19.

This is all! Please contact me ( @mikeydraws ) or this blog if you are interested in joining!!

Ciao!

[scooburst]

So here’s everything you need to know about the current situation.

My whole phone is on lockdown. I’ve been told when it finally comes back, I’ll have to delete tumblr and discord. Hopefully I can use the website and get around it. My parents are looking at blocking it on my computer as well. I don’t think they can, but thier also monitoring it so I’ll have to be very careful. I have five minutes after 7:00 AM EST to be here before it’s over. Throughout the day, I will be on for one minute twice (two one minute sessions) just to check in. From there I might be able to answer one or two asks and quickly peak at my notifications. I’ll say in the mornings a few things; what happened yesterday, updates on the situation, and if I’m okay. That will be all I’ll be able to post. Sometimes if I have it at night, I’ll come on just to say goodnight or answer a few more asks. But again, it’s only a minute. I’m trying my best to stay calm for this but it’s not going great.

What exactly happened is a bit more complicated. I’ll recount it for you all just so it’s understandable. My parents at some point looked over my computer, which was logged into tumblr and discord, and decided I was talking to complete strangers and being dangerous. Yes I was talking to people online but I was being safe, and I don’t think they’d listen to that. But that isn’t exactly stopping me from talking to those “strangers”. I don’t think my parents really even see you people as humans that are good people. But. You know. I can’t fix that. So now my phone is locked down. I can only text them and one of my friends. I can use the bare essentials. All I know is at some point it’ll be unlocked, and I’ll have to delete these sites. I’ll try to plan for that best I can. But that’s essentially what’s going on.

As for the discord if anyone’s on that. The management of it is being handled by people I trust most there. Use it however you like, and to those two: Do whatever you want with it, but keep it free and open to anyone. All I want is for you all to continue making sure the people there are okay. I will pop in every day and say I’m alive, but really not much else. And yes I will read the messages, as much as I can.

Now that that’s over, onto the newly scheduled post.

Date of writing: 11/1/24

Am I okay: not really, but I’m alive and “healthy”

Things that happened: today, I have a hockey game, and we got evacuated early from school because of bomb threats. At home I kinda just walked around. I played a little bit of guitar, I’ve been listening to music and built legos. I’m doing some puzzles as well. I’m trying to take care of myself to hopefully get my parents to let me back here.

Log: today, I was taking the chance I had to look through my notifications. And I cried. At everything you all wrote to me. I’m going to miss you all so much. You all are such amazing people. I can’t say I didn’t think you’d all say that, but it still caught me off guard. Thanks. I’m glad you all are still going, as far as I know. Keep that going. Dying isn’t good for you! I also saw someone made a whole blog of days without me. That’s insane. I don’t know what to say to that. Hopefully, it doesn’t have to count to high. I’m gonna write your urls all down so I can visit you all when I can finally be back officially. I know this is all probably really confusing with me still responding to things, but it’s just a very complicated situation right now. It sucks tp not have things like this to vent and feel better, but I have started to keep a journal so I can place my thoughts somewhere and I’m going to eventually try to open up to one of my close irl friends to hopefully have someone to talk too. I’m probably never going to just move on from this, it’ll always be something I remember and maybe something that still hurts, but it’s still some of the best memories I’ve ever had even if I cry thinking about it. I’m doing my best here to distract myself, get back into reading, maybe slowly try to build my parents trust that I can handle my phone, even though I could already. But it’s fine. Ive found a lot of entertainment in the photos app recently. Maybe when I come back I’ll share it all with you. Sorry these posts are so long. I’m just trying to stay here as much as I can. But jsut know not to worry, becahse I’m still okay, and I’m alive. Apparently I’m going to be talked to about discord and tumblr. There is some hope I can stay, but we’ll see. Either way im a sneaky boi :)

The last thing I want to say is that whoever made that blog counting how long I’m gone, you are so appreciated. I appreciate all of you really. And all of you who’ve made a post tagging me about whatever experiences you’ve had with me or put it in my askbox, you’ve made me feel so much better about this just knowing I didn’t fuck it up with you. If you didn’t make anything like that, don’t feel obligated to. Just knowing you’re alive is the best thing for me right now. Stay safe, if not for yourself, for me, and if not for me, then for someone else. I’m doing the same for all of you.

ALSO! Ima probaly make a tag list for this so you can get this as soon as possible! I know this is almost becoming a newsletter but hey that works. So if you wanna be on it, just say so (preferably in a reply or reblog to this post, with nothing but that you want in, separate from any comments about the post itself. It helps!)

[meeks-just-wants-to-scroll]

Hello !!! :3

I'm slowly getting through chapter 3 of hare fox moon and I've been wondering:

What's the writing process like??? Since in the notes of I believe chapter 1 it says its all from a discord channel so I'm really curious about how you and cupidkiss go about writing???

Also I love your responses to my comments !! Glad they bring joy :3

Signed- snail from ao3

The writing process of HFM kind of just… came out of somewhere? It got far far smoother as we went on. The first couple chapters initially were rough when released to AO3 but since then I have gone back one or two times and revised.

Initially the rp wasn’t even going to be uploaded to AO3. I just decided to archive the roleplay on a google doc because I had a long ass roleplay way back with another person and I regret I never archived it. It was only a couple chapters in me and Paigey realized we were onto something good. I took up the duty of archiving, revising, and uploading the roleplay because it was my desire to fan fiction it.

Why discord?:

Because me and paigey talk on discord and we felt it was most convenient to just make a discord server for keep everything organized.

General: commentary on the events on the roleplaying/ live reactions. It also functions as a catch all channel for any topic that isn’t captured by others.

Rp: channel where we take turns sending responses. Once a message is uploaded, I can copy and paste it into google docs (with minimal formatting issues).

Plot ideas: this was more active earlier in the story when we were organizing ideas, but it’s basically where we shot ideas and planned what would come next in an arc.

Prompts: similar to plot ideas but far more loose and general. This was a channel for art ideas, silly story ideas, character creation ideas, AU ideas, etc.

Art: where we exchanged art of the RP and characters. This channel mainly exists so I can find art quicker and don’t have to filter through something like general channel for a drawing.

Refs: author Bible channel. Quick place to find ref sheets, character desc, maps, mood boards, and whatever else we need to quickly pull up.

Photos: posts not made me either of us that we send to the server. Yet again exists so I can find images or links sent easier.

There are more channels but they are unrelated or AU related.

In rp channel we initially used Tubberbots for Boone and malt because…. Idk. Thought it’d be cool. Near the end I stopped using my malt tubberbot because it prevented me from existing my messages.

All the rp gets put into a doc and revised by me. Everytime we send a rp response, it gets a once over read, then another scan by me when I am in revising mode. Once there is enough written to be one whole chapter, I do a revise of the entire chapter in one sitting. It is during this step I turn all *italic words* into Italic words because discord copy and paste doesn’t copy the text effects across to google docs.

Once I do that final review, I copy it and upload it to AO3. There are 2 google docs. The first one got so full it would crash and so I made another one. It’s holding up better than the last one, even if it is longer.

Would I recommend roleplaying like this? Hmmm. Not particularly, but I can’t think of many better ways. Discord is familiar and accessible and even though it has formatting issues, it is not the worst.

-

I am happy you’re so engaged with this oc project! I promise you, even when we publish the last chapter to this fic, we will still be enthusiastic to answer and talk about it. :) never hesitate to send me or cupiidskiss asks about HFM.

[radskull-69]

Vent? I guess?? More like talking about this INSANE guy omg

This guy has got to be the worst person I have ever fucking met omg

they never respect boundaries, even SIMPLE ones, like: kissing ppl on the cheek without consent, name calling, trauma dumping, touching

and this guy isn’t even confirmed he has autism, which is fine normally. Because neither am I, and so are most people.

but this mother fucker has gone to TWO offical autistic tests and BOTH said he didn’t have it, but the iNtErNeT quiz said he did so I guess he has it-

said I probably have adhd because I have daddy issues???

has kissed me and my bsf on the cheek without asking and when we confronted him he said he has ‘memory issues’ and doesn’t remember it (it happened only hours prior). Then had a panic attack since we ‘cornered him’ (I texted him on discord)

he CONSTANTLY trauma dumps, like he’d just walk up to me and without even saying hello he’d rant about his ‘broken foot’ or how ‘he hasn’t slept for three weeks straight’

and he so obviously fakes every mental illness and disability ever, it’s annoying bruhhhh. He’s half blind, half death, has scoliosis, schizophrenia, Tourette’s, autism, pregnancy? And so much more I can’t even name (none of these are officially confirmed either, and he only ‘uses’ or has the disability randomly on a blue moon when no one is talking to him)

once when I was getting kicked in the legs and being called useless by a shitty friend he laughed along and agreed I was useless, so in our next class we shared I refused to partner with him and just sat down at my desk. I was his only friend in that class but I didn’t care.

he slammed his chair into the desk, cried and ran out the room. When the teacher asked what’s wrong he went on a rant how ‘no body likes him and how he hates the school’, The teacher offered to be his partner but he said no and just ran outside..

then behind my back to my REAL friends he said I was being a cold asshole to him for no reason?

this mother fucker has faked a pregnancy for two years straight.

when I was dating this guy he sent me his kink list and said ‘I’m fucked if he gets horny’. We’re both minors, just started dating, and he knows I’m asexual.

AND THATS NOT EVEN ALL

once we were making some spicy butter chicken at school, and he was in charge of crushing and adding the spice.

when I ate my butter chicken it was really spicy to me, and I know I’m very sensitive to foods and people like to tease me about it. Which is funny and I can laugh along with it.

but this guy just kept and kept on making fun of me nonstop, calling me a pussy for not handling the spice and how I was ‘so white’ for how i was acting.

so I said- ‘maybe since I’m autistic I take it differently then most others?’ And I thought he’d sympathise since he’s also ‘autistic’.

nope.

motherfucker said ‘erm- well- my autistic level is higher then yours so-👆🤓’

WHAT

what does that got to do with ANYTHING!?? And you don’t even have a confirmed ‘autistic level’, neither do I?? What even is that!??

I hate this guy so muchhhh, the ONLY reason I keep him around in the friend group is because I’m worried he’ll victim blame himself again and make me look bad. Also because as cruel as it sounds, the drama he brings is so entertaining.

luckily my friend group agrees this guy is toxic as fuck and annoying, I’m planning on cutting him from the group the next time he does something fucked up to me again so I can call him out.

because dear GOD is he so annoying..

Idk why I even dated him bruh.. I think he’s what made me aro-ace and that not all relationships are just ‘friendships with extra hand holding’

[uku-lelevillain]

long rant post incoming about the lco anniversary meet up

before i start ranting/venting i want to make clear that i’m not trying to hate on anyone absolutely not it’s just a long post about my feels you can ignore it

so after having had mixed feelings since last night i realised that one thing that made me emotional about the meet up was actually that i’m hurt that i didn’t know about it? and it felt awfully familiar to having friends making plans behind your back kinda

don’t get me wrong i’m really honestly and completely happy for everyone who got to go it sounds like a lovely night and i’m so happy at the news we got from everyone who was there

it’s just that when i first joined the fandom it felt like this very closely knit community no matter what platform you were using you always had people on several socials making sort of a bridge and keeping everyone updated but apparently it’s not the case anymore and it looks like the tumblr community is now very far from the rest? and it’s making me sad

cause i personally don’t want to go on twitter that looks like a mess and even though i’m on the discord servers i just don’t have time to scroll through hundreds of messages a day to keep up with the hundreds of channels on all the servers it’s just too overwhelming

so yeah i’m just sad i guess cause the found family feels like it’s splitting up and i don’t like change so i’m sad about it lol

this being said i feel the need to highlight the fact that i’m aware that no one in this fandom owes me anything and i’m really not being a hater i just have too many feelings that i can’t handle

if you feel anything like it i’m just here to rant and tell you that you’re not alone

and if you disagree that’s fair too cause honestly i’m overreacting i just needed to vent

[ladykailitha]

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write at least 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

My only problem is that I tend to file name what the title is so I can find it easier, so...here’s what they were called before I titled them.

“File” Names

Stripper AU

Metal Band AU

Olympic Swimmer AU

Sugar baby/daddy AU

Snippet

Eddie came up behind Steve. “What’s going on here?”

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin. “Jeez!”

Eddie cackled. “Sorry, I thought you saw me.”

“It’s Joyce’s son Will’s birthday party,” Steve said, keeping his eyes on the rowdy kids. “She asked Robin and I to watch them. Well...she is paying us for this. But it’s still a favor.”

“Why not Jonathan or any of the other lifeguards?” Eddie asked, toweling his hair.

Steve took his eye off them for a second to look at him and nearly swallowed his own tongue. He was only in black board shorts. He had two tattoos on his chest, a spider and some demon head. Water slid down the tattoos, past his navel to pool on the top of the shorts. He gulped.

“Because the party runs until noon,” Steve explained once he got his eyes back in his head. “And as it’s a Saturday in the middle of the hottest part of the summer, it’s all hands on deck. And since we trainers don’t have classes on Saturday for that reason...”

“Trainers get the fun of watching little hellions run around like chickens with there heads cut off.”

Steve nodded and turned back to watching the kids. They were screaming and splashing around.

****

It's that great and wonderful time of the week again! WIP Wednesday!

The game runs from 8am-11pm EST.

Send in as many asks as you want as often as you want.

It's looking like my husband has to work on my birthday, so next week is going to be a blast. I'm going to be doing WIP Wednesday as well as ask a writer questions. I'm even thinking of having a discord server so we can all chat all day! I'll let you know if this changes, but I plan of having a blast with you guys next week!

@mira-jadeamethyst @zerokrox-blog @forgottenkanji @w1ll0wtr33 @thesecondfate

@acingthecounts @beelze-the-bubkiss @just-a-tiny-void @kultiras @niniel-karenine

[snugglesquiggle]

A fallacy I’ve engaged in, now that my writing has achieved some success, is to turn that success into the goal. When I contemplate writing, too often I’m no longer thinking about the story, I’m thinking about what I want the story to be. How I want the audience to be impressed with me, how I want them feeling about what I’m writing.

But all my best stories happened because I simply had an idea that I wanted to convey and so I explained it. No pretense, no expectation.

I sometimes think about how, when it comes to the fundamentals of computation, there’s a distinction drawn between the primitive recursive functions, defined by iterating in bounded ways on a set of simply defined procedures, and the μ-recursive functions, defined by an infinite loop over all possibilities. Primitive recursive functions are necessarily total, everywhere well-defined, while a μ-recursive functions may never produce a valid answer.

It’s so much easier to recursively build out what’s you want to write, then to do an unbounded search for the best way to achieve some particular end. In principle, μ-recursive is so much more powerful, and yet it invites so many headaches, so much undefined behavior.

Something that stands out to me is that yesterday, at first it really felt as if my latest depressive trough might be finally cresting again.

My day started out with some thoughtful conversations with friends about An Opaque Heart, and I even had an idea for how to finally revise the opening. And then… I did nothing. I never quite resolved how to get started.

Then, later that day, I wrote two thousands words as a one-shot, spurred by nothing but an compelling image, a moment between J and Uzi I wanted to revel in. It wasn’t even supposed to be that long!

And that’s the thing. That’s always the thing. All my best work wasn’t supposed to be.

I’ve watched this cycle play out so many things, over and over. Endless Stars, my first novel, (and still my most polished work after HT) started out as me chasing imagery in a notebook while distracted in high school.

230k words later, choked by ambition, I started up so many projects. First And the Darkling Reefs Abide, then Of Waterweft, then There Lies Already the Shadow of Hope.

TLAtSoH got a 5k word chapter one, followed by a 9k word chapter two, (not) followed by a chapter three that paralyzed me for months. Working through all the lore I needed for the scenes to come birthed Black Nerve. And after all that, aching for something simple, I started up a quest, so unserious I wrote the updates directly in discord.

People liked it, I liked it, and it became Eifre Quest. How far out of hand did it get? The first chapter was six hundred words. The fifteenth chapter was thirty-one thousand. That was the climax of the first interlude arc, where I had an image I wanted to deliver, and was determined to deliver it.  Even if I had to write a novella to get there.

That first interlude arc was supposed to be a quick break before we get back into the main action; so with the second interlude, given how well the first turned out, I made my plans just as ambitious. Guess what? The quest is on abandonment-hiatus right now, dead one chapter into that second interlude.

After/during EQ came Kaon Rising, which was intended flat-out to be a be braindead indulgent power fantasy slop appealing to the type of reader who loves isekai and litrpg. How braindead did it turn out? I choose to give the main character a power that hinges on cubic volumes, and the fifth chapter open on an exposition about the ecological physics of magic light.

The list continues; A Chimerical Hope was simply me trying to write a summary; Aurora Moonrise was literally a sidebar example crafted purely for an essay. I’ve already talked at length about the genesis of Hostile Takeover and An Opaque Heart elsewhere.

You see the pattern already, don’t you? I start off unserious, realize I’m actually cooking, try desperately to keep cooking, and the water boils out of the pot.

(This isn’t even the first time I’ve had this observation.)

Every time I see the things I’ve accomplished, I naïvely assume that doing it by accident proves I can do it on purpose — as if adding expectation could only add.

In comments and author’s notes, I’ve lately expressed how the need to live up to the hype has kept me from writing more HT, but yesterday, in my latest comment apologizing for the delay in finishing chapter seventeen, I realized something.

If you went back one year and suggested to my past self I write something to the standards I’m holding chapter seventeen to, I never would have even attempted.

Hostile Takeover, in my mind, has become something I’d never write if I knew what I was getting into. I never wanted to write something so grand — and no one ever asked me to.

Now, this isn’t me saying I’m abandoning HT — though something I’ve been carefully dancing around saying in these all discussions is that I frankly don’t care all that much if I never update HT again, but that’s mostly tiredness speaking. I can fall back in love with the story with some more distance.

If nothing else, I had some cool ideas for the remainder of the plot, and I’m more than willing to summarize where I was going with it. “Summarize”, that is — you know how this song and dance turns out.

Ultimately, none of what I’m saying here is very new, it’s the same old advice. Keep your eye on the ball and stay out of your head; you can’t lock in with self-consciousness getting in the way.

In Jujutsu Kaisen, a skilled sorcerer with total concentration is capable of applying magical energy to a hit within a microsecond of landing it, unleashing profound power in a flash of black sparks. Saturo Gojo, the greatest sorcerer, even wielding all the insight of his mystical eyes, still couldn’t pin down all the variables.

Peak doesn’t come from trying for peak. Because no one, not even Saturo Gojo, can land a black flash on command.

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Tag Game (The XL edition) 🤣

I was tagged by @missredherring and sure I did it earlier this week. Could I have come up with a new WIPs because my mind is never quiet? 🤐

Yes, yes, Yes I did. 😆 I’m also structuring it similar to how she had it because it spoke to me. 🤭

Current foci (because having just one is difficult as I bounce around):

1. Weddings 101 with Dieter and @angelofsmalldeath-codeine - We’re going to finish it one day or at least the next chapter. Also AO3 link.

2. Coasting through the Rainbow 🌈 - I’m half way done with chapter four of this finally. 😆 2 and 1/2 more to go! Also AO3 link.

3. Waters of Lethe - The Qimir one. Maybe 2-5 parts? We’ll see where it goes. So far only one part. AO3 link

4. Honey and Sugarplum - With Jack Daniels and an OFC. Very sweet, smutty kinda and fluffy. ☺️ AO3 link.

Excuse me Ma’am? We’re over here in the back!

1. Unnamed Fae Jack Daniel fic for Monster Smash Challenge. I did write out some Fae facts for this one and I plan to keep it…..an actual one shot?! It’s been 900 years since Nerdie’s done one of those.

2. Fifty-Six Wildflower Lane - this one with Frankie still needs an ending, then I can post it here like. Just need part number four. AO3 link.

3. Tasting Ambrosia - Ezra, ever the scoundrel nagging at the back of my brain has a small WIP. No idea where this one is going. Also trying to do drama and will he make it out sort of deal. 👀

We been waiting for our day to come for so long:

1. Travel to You - A sweet and maybe a little obsessive Javi G? He’s adorable, has golden curls and can shoot those clay bird things down accurately so, totally fine. Have discord and FFXIV references, very nerdy. 🤣 AO3 link.

2. Therapy for the Well-Adjusted - Marcus Pike and Imani are finally going on that date. Or do they? Maybe they go somewhere else? Also AO3 link.

3. A Safe Place for Us - Dieter and Aisha continue to sort their feelings and trying to make a baby. What could go wrong? Also AO3 link.

4. Green Shop of Memories - that Marcus Moreno AU where I made him a wizard/warlock that owns a cafe. 😘 It’s all sad, and cute. Plus it has fairies and a Magic Council. Also fake dating? AO3 link.

5. Kissed by the Sun - I had an idea that Oberyn Martell was a son or descendant of Apollo and he pissed off Venus (Aphrodite if ya nasty) and was barred from his soulmate being able to interact with him other than his voice. Because…..I read too many Marcus A fics that kept referencing Roman gods. 🫡 AO3 link

6. Din’s in the Neighborhood- Modern Din AU that has him meet on OFC DV survivor post divorce. Also Grogu is a human boy and we have Finn/Poe. There’s also Johnnie Mae and Luke that are just together? No one’s asking and I don’t think either of them would given an answer. 😆 So many cameos and randomness, so little time. Side notes: I gave Din tattoos, Obi-Wan is a children’s author and there’s a Jedi Law & Order show. Also AO3 link.

7. Fire and Fury - Pero and Calista’s story likely has two more parts. Complete with smut, more fighting, a bathtub (I promised @avastrasposts that one) and they’ll get their revenge! But what happens after? Also AO3 link.

8. Hands of God - This could be a long one shot or I might have to split it up. The Marcus Acacius fic that @soft-persephone and @megamindsecretlair “gently suggested” that I write. I did start it. 👀 There will be some infidelity, plots, murder and a coup. Also a dash of smut just for seasoning. And maybe a subby Marcus A? Can I do it? Only time and Marcus’ sash will tell.

9. Front Office Adjunct - One of two Dave York fics. ☺️ Dave blackmails on OFC into working for him. Things appear to be stacked in his favor, but are they? This one is a slow burn one, enemies to lovers maybe? Also espionage, murder, violence, smutty and bad behavior. Just bad. 👀🤫 AO3 link

She hasn’t touched us in so long:

Pleasure Principle - The first series I ever started anywhere. Has Dave York in a toxic working on making it better relationship with an OFC. I’ll finish this one someday. 😭😭 Also AO3 link.

Uncomplicated Mi Amor - The fic where I swore I was going to have something sweet for Javier Peña. Which it is, I just haven’t finished it. 👀 Also I will finish someday. Also AO3 link.

Roc & Doc - A Tim Rockford crime series with an OFC ME that is my love letter to the likely thousands of hours I’ve spent watching crime procedurals or listening to true crime podcasts. Also AO3 link.

Some have just AO3 links, I haven’t gotten around to putting them on Tumblr yet and some are in both places. A few just exist in notes. 🗒️ I should also never look through my WIP this in depth again. This thing is very long. 🤣🤣🤣

NPT because you may have already done it but I described things this time around. 🙌🏽

@schnarfer @maggiemayhemnj @lotusbxtch @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @604to647

@inept-the-magnificent @connectioneverywhere @for-a-longlongtime @lady-bess @tinytinymenace

@perotovar @julesonrecord @yourcoolauntie @clawdee @magpiepills

@trulybetty @rhoorl @grogusmum @syd-djarin @sin-djarin

@harriedandharassed @missladym1981 @jolapeno @pedrospurplerain @alltheglitterandtheroar

@movievillainess721 @notapradagurl7 @bishtrouille @fhatbhabiee @secretelephanttattoo

@gasolinerainbowpuddles @din-cognito @djarins-cyare

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 11: Teasing out the data

It’s cold, it’s overcast. I’m not shivering, but I feel a little sluggish and very cuddly and I’m wishing I had a heat lamp. And I’m wondering what the winter is going to be like for me.

Ptarmigan’s outfit, which she never changes, actually looks appropriate for this dark, sixty-two degree with high humidity Pacific Northwest weather. 

So does Chapman’s. Sie is dressed like a classic witch, if that witch was also a carney and an Elvis impersonator, but with a cloak.

We’re on the roof of my building, and looking around I think I can see where the insulation is thin, because the colors are shifted here and there just ever so subtly.

My tablet is at my feet, and I’m sitting on my haunches.

They’ve both already scanned or made a divination for me, as a baseline for today. And I’ve reported how it felt.

I’ve also arranged with a couple of other dragons to participate in this.

Now, I turn to Chapman, “Scan Anurak.”

And I switch over to Discord as Chapman turns to face the direction of the library and touches the tattoos on hir wrists together.

I feel the shift, and then send Anurak a simple message, “Now.”

“No,” comes the reply.

“You,” I say to Ptarmigan with my syrinx.

Ptarmigan nods, looks in the direction of the library, holds up her little journal and scribbles furiously with her pen.

I feel her particular brand of warm, staticky shift, stretched out and a little itchy.

“Again,” I send.

“No,” Anurak replies.

“Thank you,” I tell him. And then to Chapman, “Next.”

This time Chapman turns toward where we know Astraia to be. I’ve invited her into my territory for this, and she’s tucked away into a different coffee shop, two blocks away, and very curious about how this will go. And Chapman does hir thing.

And I feel it.

And I notify Astraia.

She does not.

I look at Ptarmigan, who then does the same thing.

I feel it.

And she does not.

One out of three dragons so far can feel this, and it doesn’t have to be directed right at them. So far, I am a little special.

Except, I remember seeing Joel twitch in response to Chapman’s Art.

Joel’s been warned, and has been told to make a noise when he notices something. So far, he hasn’t.

I switch back to my app and say, “Now, in turn, each do Joel.”

Shift.

“Yawp!”

Shift.

“Yawp!”

So, he’s a little special, too.

I didn’t organize this with anybody else, yet. I wanted to keep it as much on the downlow as I could while at least confirming a basic premise. But now I do want to test this with nearly every dragon in town.

I report, “No Anurak. No Astraia. Joel yes only direct scan, both of you. Me yes every time.” And so I’ve spilled my tiny little secret to Ptarmigan.

She raises an eyebrow and her head slowly tilts up and to the side as she looks at me, expression otherwise deadpan.

“You say not done with me,” I tell her.

“I’m definitely not,” she responds. “But this does give us a really good idea of where to start, doesn’t it.”

“Other dragons,” I say.

“Yes, we should test them,” she says. “We could do that with a little less prep work, if you like, too. Chapman and I could tour the town over the next few days, and get permission from each one and test them then. And every time you feel a shift from either of us, you message the one you felt it from. Then we’ll report back and compare notes.”

“Good plan,” I say. “Watch for Säure.”

“Of course,” Ptarmigan says as Chapman watches her passively. “Meanwhile, I’d like you to meditate on that sense. See if you can pick up anything else happening around town, even subtly. Any little change in feeling, any direction or lack of direction. Even if you don’t really notice anything, paying attention to it will hone your ability to use it. And every time one of us pings you, you’ll get definitive feedback to reinforce it.”

“Okay,” I agree.

—

Over the next couple of days, I have one more pointless counseling appointment and continue my daily routine, which includes a lot of me time just resting on my roof. And, any time I feel a shift from either of my Artist friends, I send the relevant one a thumbs up emoji.

It happens a lot more frequently than I expected, but then tapers off pretty quick. By the second day, I’m getting nothing.

And I’ve been thinking about just what I can sense.

With Ptarmigan, so far, I sense it the moment she puts pen to paper, and it lasts the whole time she’s doing it.

With Chapman, however, I sense it when sie activates hir glyphs, such as when putting hir wrists together. But I definitely feel it coming from the middle of hir being.

Ptarmigan’s is less specific, her whole being sort of vibrates, and so does the pen.

But, I also experiment with the transformation pendant a few times, really focusing on it, and I don’t feel a thing except the transformation itself. That is pretty disruptive, though, and I know I can sense anything at all when I’m wearing the pendant.

This tells me a little bit about how Ptarmigan and Chapman each channel and use their Arts.

And also, the fact that my sense of their shifts got weaker and disappeared as they got further away definitely seems to indicate I’ve got a range. A lot like how sounds will be fainter as they happen further and further away. That makes sense to me.

I suspect, with 900,000 Artists on Earth, it would be a nervous cacophony to me if I could sense whenever any one of them used their Art at any moment, regardless of range.

Chapman messages me at one point to say, “I think you have a range of about a mile with me. Roughly.”

Ptarmigan doesn’t send anything.

I don’t hear from her until they’re done and they both get back in person on Friday evening.

—

Before either of them have a chance to talk, I ask them a question as they climb up onto my roof to join me in private again. I’d been working on it for a bit.

“Can you sense each other like I can?”

“No,” Chapman says.

“No,” agrees Ptarmigan. “Not the same way you do.”

Chapman nods, and adds, “I can watch Ptarmigan do her art, and I can see most of what she’s doing when she does it. But, I don’t have some kind of warning sense that alerts me to when she’s doing it. I don’t think any of us actually have anything like that. It’s almost like the difference could be described by saying you have the equivalent to a fly or a cockroach having a hair on their back or leg that’s connected to a reflex that makes it fly or run when triggered by an air current. While, we each can see the wind as if it has layers of dyed smoke in it.”

“Yes,” Ptarmigan says. “Different senses with different evolutionary purposes, essentially.”

“What next?” I ask.

“We didn’t go all the way out into the county,” Chapman reports. “So we don’t have a survey of the dragons that live out in the other cities and such. But it looks like about one in ten local dragons has some degree of your sense. But you have the strongest. Locally, at least.”

“What mean?” I press.

“Well,” Ptarmigan says, crossing her legs and plopping down on the rooftop in one awkward jarring motion. “If your sense is a defense mechanism to alert you to the working of Art, and only a smattering of dragons have it and you have it the strongest. It feels like it’s new. And it feels like it suggests that maybe you have the trait because the dracomorphosis was caused by an Artist who was using you as the target of their work, the locus, the focus, the center of it, the catalyst. Something like that. But I don’t know.”

“And,” Chapman says, “because we don’t usually notice when another Artist is doing their work unless we’re paying attention to them, we don’t know who it was. Not definitively.”

Ptarmigan continues their tag team explanation by saying, then, “There are a handful of our siblings who could have done this. The Artist of Transformation is only one of them. But it would take a lot longer than a couple of days to seek them all out and ask them. And that’s only if they’re not hiding. And then we have to just trust that they’d tell us the truth. However, of course, I’m going to do just that. Just don’t expect results for a while. And in the meantime, we should think of other ways to investigate this.”

“This was a really good exercise,” Chapman says. “Thank you for suggesting it.”

Hm.

“Chapman,” I say. “You said dragons could appear naturally.”

“That’s still a possibility, yes,” sie says. “But that’s a harder hypothesis to test for right now. It’s easier to eliminate the possibility that someone triggered it first.” Then sie looks at Ptarmigan, “Unfortunately, the only other angle I can think of right now, for what might have set the dracomorphosis off, is to find out what’s happened with Daniel Säure. Why did he go into hiding, or outright disappear on August 24th when it happened? There might be nothing there, but it is conspicuous, especially along with one or more of his companies interfering with the lives of local dragons.”

“Yeah,” Ptarmigan agrees. “It’s more than one. He’s using all the clout he’s got to lobby the City and County Councils. The Daily keeps publishing stories about noise complaints against dragons, property damage, and fights. And their editorials are just full of fear and hate. That has to be Säure’s influence over the paper. Nevermind he’s the only reason it’s still in business. Morning Glory Inc. is his land holding company. That’s where his money makes more money. So it can stay apolitical, but it’s helping, too, really.”

That makes a lot of sense, and I want to get into figuring out what to do about it. Though I can think of anything remotely legal or peaceful. My mind is too bloody when it comes to this subject.

Instead, while I’ve been listening to this, I’ve been typing out another complete sentence. So, I hit “talk”.

“You two are very cooperative today.”

Ptarmigan looks at Chapman with mock alarm and says in utter deadpan, “What? No. Not with this asshole.”

“I strenuously object to being called an asshole,” Chapman says. “That term is inaccurate and incorrect. I am a jerk.”

“Are not.”

“I really am. I can be a complete jerk.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Okay,” I interject. “Shit.”

Their behavior is obviously a reminder to me that they think of themselves as siblings. And, it makes sense, they’ve been sharing this tiny little planet since before memory. And, of course siblings, especially ancient immortal siblings, will have complex relationships.

But then my mind turns to us dragons and how we interact with each other. And then I think of diversity, and how not all of us dragons can sense when an Artist is doing something nearby. But then I think about the rest of our physical and psychological diversity, and also where we come from.

Anurak’s human ancestry is Thai.

I’m pretty sure Astraia is Latina, like her boyfriend, though she has the Greek spelling of her name.

My family comes from a variety of European colonialist nations. Mostly Scandinavian and Germanic.

I don’t know about the rest of the dragons in Fairport, unfortunately, but I can guess we might be at least as diverse as the local population of humans. I know that I’ve seen the global demographics in an article on the internet, and no ethnicity is without their dragons.

But, like, Anurak doesn’t resemble any Thai dragon that I know of. He doesn’t even look anything like his namesake angel.

Astraia looks like an old Hollywood take on a hydra, a Greek monster. But, if she’s Latina, her ancestry might include Maya or Aztec, and a hydra doesn’t fit well there.

I’m the only stereotype I know personally, at the moment. And I’m pretty damn stereotypical for a modern fantasy dragon, though I’d probably fit in in a tapestry or illuminated manuscript.

I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that implication, so I want to look things up, see what’s going on around the rest of the world.

My two Artists have noticed me thinking and have been waiting for me to say something more. Their heads are tilted opposite directions, in imitation of my own favorite quizzical expression.

“Need to interview dragons,” I say. “Find out why shapes they have. Maybe clue.”

“You could ask that on your Discord,” Ptarmigan says.

I huff, and then say, “Yes.” Then I go into the appropriate channel and type out the questions more carefully, “@everyone Why do you think you look like you do? Is it how you feel you should be? Is it wrong? Imposed on you? May be clue to something. Thank you.”

I show it to Chapman and Ptarmigan before hitting “send”, and they both nod.

Almost immediately the words “someone is typing” appear with the animated ellipses.

All three of us are huddled over my tablet on the rooftop, Ptarmigan having scooted closer and Chapman kneeling down. We watch.

Anurak replies, “I am me. This is me. Don’t know why. I love myself this way. I look like my own monster doodles.”

Almost immediately afterward, Astraia responds, “We’ve always been a hydra. It just makes sense.”

And that’s it, for now. Those two were already logged into Discord for our experiment before, and have been paying close attention since apparently. The others may take time to filter in.

I start to feel quite a bit better. It seems like, so far, we’ve each known who and what we were.

Chapman points to the screen, “This is also good. It’s definitely backing up what I’ve seen elsewhere. But, again, thank you for reminding me of this.”

“Oh?” Ptarmigan prompts.

“Yeah,” Chapman says. “Across the world, dragons have appeared in every culture and every demographic conceivable, at about an equal rate. And they’re incredibly diverse. As diverse as their mythological counterparts. And while, say, you’ll find that almost all nagas, which weren’t typically thought of as dragons by their native cultures but have manifested, have the appropriate ancestries – which is quite a lot of cultures – those cultures also exhibit a lot of dragons of different origins or even purely chaotic physiologies. Like Anurak, who looks like a cross between something Maurice Sendak might have drawn and Trogdor, kinda. But, in every case where a dragon can be interviewed, they report being happy with what they are, or having always known it.”

“So, either this is an Artistry designed to provide wish fulfillment to people with severe species dysphoria, or…”

“This is what dragons are and this is the first wave of them emerging. Or something like that,” Chapman says. “I can think of all sorts of scenarios between those two. Compromises. Different triggers or origins.”

“Mm,” Ptarmigan nods. “And this eliminates any mechanism that involved transforming people against their will. At first glance, at least.”

“Makes it seem less like the work of an Art, doesn’t it?” Chapman asks.

My gaze is switching back and forth between the two as they talk, though I’m switching from right eye to left eye, and my head is moving in a small twitch instead of pointing at each one.

“In what way?” Ptarmigan asks.

“When one of us attempts something at this scale, it’s not this nuanced,” Chapman says. “There are too many variables to keep track of, even for one of us. But if we combine our Arts and do something collaborative, it gets really chaotic. This would require an eon of setup, one Artist laying the ground work before passing on a finished product for another Artist to work on, without creating a disastrous synergy, and narrowing it in with each phase until it was ready.”

“How do you know this?” Ptarmigan squints at hir.

“How do you not?” Chapman looks at her out of the corner of hir eye incredulously. “Well. It doesn’t matter. I’m the Physicist. Dragons might be my special interest of the epoch, but I know how energy and matter function, and this is that. When I really look at this evidence, the numbers don’t add up.”

“Which epoch? The anthropocene, or…”

“Don’t be obnoxious.”

“Don’t be vague.”

“Ptarmigan, how long have nightmares been a thing?” Chapman asks.

“Since I came into existence, at the very least.”

“Physics is older than that, and I also have my hands on a thesis written by a delightful student that suggests that dragons are really an emergent behavior of the general chaos of the universe itself. Physics,” Chapman says.

“Chapman,” Ptarmigan snorts. “Every time you go about describing what dragons are, you contradict yourself. You say something wildly different than before.”

“Dragons are like that,” Chapman says. “Isn’t that right, Meg?”

“Yes,” I say, without thinking. And then realize that I’ve spoken up between arguing immortal beings.

Ptarmigan apparently recognizes my expression, because she says, “Don’t worry, we’re not gods. We don’t smite people.”

“Well, except for the Artist of Smiting,” Chapman says.

Ptarmigan tilts her head and points at Chapman.

I look down at my tablet briefly

Wentin, of all dragons, has responded next to my query, “I’ve always had this recurring dream that I was chasing a terrified child through the woods. It was a different child every time, sometimes an adult, but this form is what I’ve always been in that dream.”

I wonder how it typed all that with its massive paws. If it uses speech to text, I feel like I’m going to be even more annoyed about it than I already am.

“That’s not disproving our theory,” Chapman says, pointing at the screen.

Ptarmigan looks, “Huh. I know that one.”

I glance at Ptarmigan as I wonder what that statement must mean.

Follow up question time. This seems like a non-sequitur but I’ve been thinking about this for a while, so I type in, “Do you think there will be more like us?”

“Don’t know,” Astraia responds.

“No clue,” says Anurak.

“Oh dear, yes please. I do hope that there are.” And I can just hear Wentin’s creaky breaking croon as I read the words.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Ptarmigan says. “It’s been around since before English was a language, at the very least. In the recurring nightmares of so many people. I’ve talked to it in an early Ingvaeonic once, I forget what that language called itself.”

We all look at each other.