#tower bolt online

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hiii! Can I request headcanons on what vox would be like as a father of a teen daughter? I feel like he'd be great to gossip with and would tell her to slap any boy that hits on her

Vox absolutely fucking would do this, and he is that type of girl dad to loudly brag that his Princess is cuter than every other father’s! Vox be like: ‘You wish your daughter was as cute as mine’

Vox- Baby Laptop

Vox is extremely doting and loving but extremely protective. Like, he has cameras and drones following you, his fourteen year old human life AND demon life daughter, around all the time. You can’t leave the tower without him knowing and he won’t condone you walking around Hell without ALL his bodyguards escorting you

Vox is a bragger. He brags and he flexes what he has so when it comes to you, he is one-upping every known mother and father in the Pride Ring and flaunting his precious babygirl with no hesitation. You’re beautiful and Hell deserves to bask in your presence… according to Vox

Remember, your dad is the technology Overlord. The one in charge of every device in this city, so of course, he is kept to date with every trend or phrase or online concept and he always gives you the latest model his slaves team created. He spoils you since it’s a symbol of his love

Vox is basically your best gossip buddy and no matter how busy he is, he’ll make time to talk to you. Call him, he’ll answer and whilst he works, he’ll listen to you and he remembers it. He has a good open ear and a good sense of ‘fuck you all’ so he’ll get rather into your gossip pieces and consider asking Velvette to spread them through her social media influence

Vox is more than capable of getting sweet, soft and emotive with you. He always proclaims to you, with his whole heart, that he puts you out because he’s proud of you and adores you and he wants you to have everything when back on Earth, he could barely give you anything

Yes. Vox loves you MORE than he likes messing with Valentino so if Valentino dares to hit you, your father is bolting across the room at mach speeds to make his on-and-off boyfriend regret putting his hands on you. You’re his spoiled little princess and nobody touches you! You’re too valuable!

Vox has a picture of you in his wallet and in his suit pocket. So, whilst he is working tirelessly throughout the days and hasn’t seen you in a while. He’ll pick either photograph out and admire it. Both are direct recreations of photographs he owned when both of you were humans

Like Carmilla Carmine with her two daughters, Vox likes to have you occasionally work for him and occasionally means occasionally. Vox only cares that you’re happy so if you want to spend all day everyday in your big fancy room in his tower free of stress, he lets it!

However. Vox, of course, teaches you important life skills. He didn’t get a chance to when both of you were humans on Earth so he is now. Every night, he teaches you to cook recipes, he teaches you to do basic chores, he teaches you how to balance any money you earn

Vox almost views you as the cute babygirl he had back on Earth. The little five year old that was so happy to see him come home after so long of working so hard as a TV salesman in the late 1940s. The little girl who needed him to go to sleep at night, the precious darling who claimed she’d grow up and become a saleswoman too!

Vox does baby you and he doesn’t regret it. He coodles, he snuggles, he baby talks, he coos. He does all of it because he loves you dearly, you’re the single thing that drove him to become a Overlord, you’re the single thing that motivated him to become one of the strongest Overlords in Hell, you’re the single thing that even brought him to work with technology

Vox had always taught you; ‘if a boy or a girl hits on you, slap them’ and that became your norm. You come home, Vox asks what happened and you tell him. He is always happy to hear that you don’t let anybody bother you

The only criticism or advice Vox will take for his products is you so when you say something doesn’t work or needs improvement. He takes it and throws it as his workers so they can fix up what you said. He doesn’t care what his clients think, he cares what his own flesh and blood thinks

Vox loves how you have his TV head and even gets you to wear a matching outfit with him as a cute father-daughter joke. He likes it, it’s adorable. You look like such a badass business lady! He is that type of dad that will embarrass you with how much he loves you

Talking about a father-daughter situation, Vox has the weekends booked all for you. Two father-daughter days out so you two go to the shops, get drinks, gossip more, talk shit about Alastor, go egg the Hazbin Hotel, get some shopping then go to visit the Vees to chat then pick up a movie suggestion to go watch a movie together! Vox loves these days since he is truly himself with you

Vox legit has you in his contacts as the following; ‘My precious darling princess’

“Darling, Princess. It’s time to wake up, we’re going out together! Yes. To the movies and to the shops. I heard that old timey prick is in a Hotel so let’s go egg it once we’re done, ‘kay? Great, I’ll be waiting for you, pumpkin”

[mothduchess]

Kitsune HRT Part 3

Doors, are fucking,

TERRIFYING.

The office was unassuming by itself, yet the details spoke behind the facade's back, hinting to a truer nature. A nick upon the doorplate, how it could be pushed easily from any point on its towering height, or how dirt prints came in more varieties than just shoes. Snap! My gaze scampered upwards. The sun gazed unflinchingly from high above gazing through its mantle of clouds; it weighed like a crown with all of its aching heat. "I wonder how it'd feel with fur," I mused, before turning my gaze back to the office's doorway. I... couldn't distract myself for long. All that research I had done, the pep talk with my friends, they made it very clear: the first visit was the worst of them all. But like anything good and necessary, it still felt larger than it was. I could feel myself take a step back for just a moment. And then I stopped. The words of the kind man from before, and his quiet push to bring me to this place, they rang in my head as a gentle bell. Thoughts of her returned to my mind - my hands unconsciously went over my heart, head rolled to the side. I started to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. The door gave way to a refreshing reprieve an an audience of chairs. "Barely anyone else here... suppose it *is* a work day." The few merits of unemployment aside, it did make me feel still ever so uneasy. I couldn't help it! And it wasn't just fear either. Looking to my side, I saw the wounds upon the wall, infamously left by one of the most notable patients. Those pictures were how I knew this place even existed, and now here I was caught in the wake of it all. I passed the healing plaster patch and shuffled towards the counter. A slight woman greeted me with a smile. "How can I help you?" "I'm here for... um, I think his name was Herian?" "Oh, Dr. Herian. Did you schedule a visit?" "Yes. Uh, it's under-" "Here it is. Miss Wild?" Her pleasant smile set me at ease. I simply gave a nod. "Just sit down, it won't take any time." I sat down. Names, are a tricky thing during transition. You're constantly confronted by them throughout the process. Modern society asks you what you are through your name, but what if you don't know? What if you wished you didn't need one? Right now, my appearance didn't speak for itself but already so many people just called me the truth: "Fox". It wasn't a name, but it was me. I'd gone through earlier versions; Wild was just a nickname that I enjoyed better than the one I buried states away. And maybe this one would meet the same fate. Her voice flittered upon the air. I knew the routine, and followed my part. If the front door was merely daunting, though, the door of Dr. Herian's was something *else*. Not by the door's fault. It was entirely the man inside responsible. A man no younger than 40 sat behind a heavy desk bolted to the floor gazed right through me as I came through, his gaze shielded by thick spectacles. Only wisps of hair decorated his scalp with a bush rounding the rest and sitting over his lips. Theodore Herian was the stern face of the entire program, a genius amongst his field and a veritable boogeyman to the community. Wordlessly I sat before him in the tiny chair provided, shuffling to cut a smaller figure. "Miss..." his eyes glanced at the file before him, "Wild. According to my schedule, you're here on behalf of the Humanity Removal Therapy?" "Correct." "Mh. I see. Specifically.... ah, right. Kitsune, which involves a variant of vulpinestin. We do have the medication-" Here it comes. "-but have you been living as a fox for years, now?" "For as long as I knew what thought was." "Yes sir. I've been presenting as a fox publicly for a while now, both online and in person." Physical visits were so much more stressful than the online consultations my first transition brought with it. And the questions he asked, I felt as if he was investigating the fiber of my being. Pouring water upon glass to find any sign of the slightest crack. "To be clear, what you're asking for-"

"Practically begging for." "-is the kitsune type, not the standard North American Red Fox. This comes with more than just tails. Even more so than other HRT medications, the kitsune comes with notable side effects. Illusions, fire, s..." The voice filtered out. I knew what I was getting into, and I knew to some they'd misinterpret why. 'That I just wanted the powers' or 'it'd be okay if you were just a fox'. I might be a vixen, a creature of cunning and sneering grins - but I wasn't some kind of plotting mastermind! My fingers pinched the sweatpants I came by today in with frustration twisting under the skin. The irritation ran like wax, my mouth pulled into the faint signs of an oncoming sneer. I would be a beautiful vixen even if it killed me. Not for any reason other than to ring in a new spring. "I'll do this. I'm right here. It's almost the-" "MISS. Wild.... Good. You're back. Did you hear what I said?" I gave a flustered nod, which he responded with an exasperated sigh. "Then, I would like to be the first to thank you for coming here, and to let you know - you may pick up your medication at your chosen pharmacy." He handed over a pamphlet that felt as precious as gold in my fingers. For moments, I was on autopilot. Step Step Step Step At some point I recall bidding a polite farewell to the receptionist? But my mind was a buzzing hurricane of thoughts, a whirl of actions. Petals honey gold silk cars sirens light heat skin sweat lock key ho-! My door clicked behind me, the vacancy greeting me warmly. The bag crumpled underneath my fingers. And when I heard that rattle? The light kissing the bottle and coming out changed as an amber gold nectar that seeped into the floor? I wept, and delighted sounds of a fox escaped my throat. Kitsune HRT: Week 1 OH MY GODS OH MY GODS I HAVE THE MEDICINE, AAAAAA -No changes yet. First pills, but so stoked. -Gods I felt I was going to die in that office. -Thank the fucks I do not have oh HELLS. -....I hope I end up fluffy

--------------------------------------------------------------------- <PREV FIRST NEXT>

[saphronethaleph]

Visual Misidentification

“This is White leader to all squadrons on this net,” Harrier called, glancing left and right to check on the other Y-wings in his squadron. “We are go for our new tasking, launching an attack run on one of those cruisers. We’re going to need an escort.”

“Roger that, White leader,” another clone replied. “Dirk squadron is flying close cover on you, we’re three seconds behind you and twenty degrees below.”

“Copy that, Dirk lead,” Harrier said. “What’s a dirk?”

“Is this really the time?” Pinion called, from the gunner seat – then his turret opened up, blazing away at the nearest buzz-droid from a scatter that had been launched in their direction.

“Dirks are a kind of blade, White lead,” the other clone said, sounding amused. “We’re off the Scabbard, all our squadrons are named for old weapons.”

Harrier laughed, then swung his bomber to the side. The twin nose cannons fired in a staccato blaze of light, and the rest of White Squadron followed suit just a moment later.

The combined volley cut down three Vulture droids, opening a hole in the formation ahead of them, and Harrier rolled his bomber through the gap.

“Report in,” he called, weaving his fighter back and forth around its base course. There were so many ships battling in the skies over Coruscant it was hard to keep track of what was even happening, but he was fairly sure all his fighters were still there…

“White four to lead, I have some damage to my left engine cap,” Garnet said, after a few seconds. “My R3 thinks we’re good unless we take another hit on that engine.”

“Copy that,” Harrier replied. “White four, white six, switch places.”

The complicated dance took place behind him, and Harrier didn’t need to look – which was good, because all his attention was focused on the gun duel ahead. A Lucrehulk battleship was heavily engaged with a Republic heavy cruiser, battering down the shields, and shots were landing home on the beleagured friendly ship’s hull.

“White three to lead, do we fire?” Decade asked, from White Three. “If we don’t do something the Sun Shadow is going down!”

“We have our mission,” Harrier answered, glancing between his weapons displays and the fight, then cursed. “Fine – guns only, do not adjust base course! Try and take out one or two of those turrets, but save the torpedoes and keep moving!”

Pinion’s turret slewed around before he’d finished speaking, and ion bolts and laser blasts did the best they could to chip away at the Separatist battleship’s turrets.

Twenty crowded seconds later, White Seven was down, but Dirk Squadron had chased off the rest of the tri-fighters that had tried to pounce them. Only one two-bird element of Dirk Squadron remained for top cover, but that had to be enough – they were nearly there – and Harrier flicked his targeting computer online.

“All White elements!” he called. “Slave your targeting computers to mine, we need a precise salvo if we’re going to get through the shields!”

“Roger that!” Decade confirmed.

The other clones of White Squadron were complying as well, carets appearing in Harrier’s computer one after another as the Y-wings deferred to his on launch orders, and Harrier swallowed.

This was the most dangerous point in the entire run. They had to run straight and level to give the computers a good course… his shoulders hunched, knowing that at any moment a fighter could smoke them or a capital ship gun could rip them to shreds.

“Crink,” Pinion murmured. “Is that the Negotiator?”

“Is what?” Harrier replied, then his computer pinged and he hit the firing switch.

There were six bombers left, and each ripple-fired two of their four torpedoes. A single twelve-torpedo salvo ripped out towards the bridge tower of their urgent target, the CIS dreadnought Prosperous, and Harrier threw his ship into a left swerve to avoid colliding with the enemy capital ship.

“What is it, Pinion?” he asked, looking around. “Reinforcements?”

“I mean General Kenobi!” Pinion replied, sounding awed. “And I think I see Skywalker’s fighter, too – they’re heading for the same ship we just fired on!”

In his peripheral vision right, Harrier saw the bridge tower of the CIS dreadnought exploding.

“Who fired those torpedoes?” General Skywalker demanded, on an open channel. “All concerned, who just fired those torpedoes?”

“...which torpedoes, General?” Harrier asked, on the same channel.

“The Chancellor’s been abducted and is being held on the CIS dreadnought Invisible Hand!” Skywalker replied. “We just saw a torpedo volley impact on the ship – hold fire, we need to rescue the Chancellor!”

Harrier had a sinking feeling.

Wasn’t the Invisible Hand another Providence-class, like the Prosperous?

“...oops,” he said, lamely.

[madamsnape921]

On the Plus Side

Chaper 5

<Chapter 4| Chapter 6>

Pairing: Frederick Chilton x female reader 

Warning: more ridiculousness 

WC: 1456

Raúl Taglist: @beccabarba @alwaysachorusgirl @law-nerd105  @prurientpuddlejumper  @welcometothemxdhouse @itsjustmyfantasyroom @lv7867 @word-scribbless 

@teamsladsandgents @storiesofsvu @navalcriminalimagines 

On the Plus Side Taglist: @caracalwithchips @jackdanieltorrance

Frederick calls out from his study, "I found something, Y/N come here." 

You walk into Frederick's study to see his books spread all around. They tower over the man as the sunlight bleeds into his room. "We have two options. We can either cut the ring or we can forge our own."

"How will forging our own give the ring the properties needed to work for vampires?"

"We need to find someone who knows about rings. We could try the museum?"

“What museum? Wouldn’t we need to look to some sort of vampire community?”

“I have no idea. I thought I was the only vampire. We normally don’t have conventions.”

You stare at Frederick blankly, “You’re the only vampire? In the entire world? How?”

"I have no idea. I'm just saying there isn't a vampire directory."

“Obviously, Frederick. I was just suggesting you being the only one seems far-fetched. We might find the answer we’re looking for if we try to find others.”

“And where do we look? Do we google vampires?!”

“Calm down, babe. How about we start with your former lover and creator?”

“That was Maradeath Kays. Her father was a jeweler.”

“Interesting. That’s definitely a start. I’ll start with some online searches.”

After hours of research, Y/N had a pretty good plan of attack. Before she could go find Frederick, he walked into his study, "What have you figured out?"

“Oh! I was getting ready to find you. Here’s what I got,” she handed him the paper with her notes.

Frederick looks over the papers, "Does this say what I think it says?"

“Yes, but we can try to find a different plan, if you’d rather not do that. I definitely can’t afford that, so you’d have to do those parts yourself.”

"I've got the cash. We can do your plan."

“I… I can’t do that. That’s a lot of money.”

Frederick jesters at his copious amounts of generational wealth.

“Frederick.”

"What? I can afford it."

“Okay. So… we’re going on our first vacation, and it’s already going to be an adventure.”

“Pack light, we will travel to Romania in the morning.”

She started walking out of the study, “will do. See you in the morning.”

____________________________________________________________________________

Frederick and Y/N flew over the Atlantic Ocean to Romania. They hoped to find an ancient ring that would make Y/N a day walker like Frederick. The first class cabins were as extravagant as they could be. Though, Frederick could not relax. He was too nervous about what could happen and who they would find on their trip. 

She had never been out of the country before, so she was feeling super excited but at the same time nervous. Was she seriously doing all of this to become a vampire? A vampire that she just learned existed. Did she want to be romantically involved with a vampire? She did want to be romantically involved with Frederick Chilton so she supposes Vampirism is the price of admission, but was it too high? She’s known about them for less than 48 hours now, and she was on a plane heading to Romania. Ever since that hot make out session, Frederick hasn't even touched her. It's unfortunate because the thought of getting completely railed by a vampire made her squirm in her seat. Her panties were for sure ruined.

Frederick looked over at Y/N and smiled. He knew this trip was a lot on her. He flagged someone and got two champagnes for them. He looks over at you and hands you the glass. He can feel the nerves pulsating off of you, or at least what he thinks are nerves. Frederick placed his hand on her lap and felt what seemed like a bolt of electricity go through him. He somehow could feel her unease, her desire, and her fear. Oh no... we're psychically bonded. Frederick smiled and looked at you “Hey, um, can I try something?" Frederick leaned over and pinched you. He felt the prick, but none of the pain.

“What the hell?” 

Frederick looked at her with shock and amusement. "Pinch me."

You pinched him, “what the hell!?”

Frederick rubs his arm and looks at you, "Huh, interesting."

Frederick dons his sleep mask and leans over to kiss you. "Goodnight, my dear. When I wake, I hope we are in Romania... or they are serving a meal. Either way, let me know if something happens." Frederick rolled over and fell asleep, much less nervous. 

You stared at him in confusion. You spent some time trying to figure out what you were feeling. You definitely felt the pinching sensation on your arm as you pinched Frederick’s arm. Maybe a weird vampire thing because of the two bites? If so, wouldn’t he have mentioned it before now? Now that you're focusing more on yourself, you noticed your nervousness was more amplified. Now, your struggling to stay awake. You weren't that sleepy before Frederick went to sleep. Weird. This is all so weird. You finally stopped fighting and slept for the rest of the flight.

____________________________________________________________________________

Frederick awoke to the sight of the rising sun over the Atlantic. He looks out the window and can see in the far distance the European coast. He looks over at you and watches you sleep for a moment when you wake up and stare at him

“Good morning. What time is it?” you asked before yawning.

"Time? I have no idea. The only thing I know right now is... look at the sunrise."

You turned to look out the window, “oh! It’s so beautiful.” 

"Yes, you are," Frederick extended his arm behind your neck and kissed your forehead.

You nuzzled into his shoulder.

"Are you ready to go to Europe? Are you excited?"

“I’ve always wanted to go. That’s why I had a passport. This is exciting, but I’m also nervous about being able to find what we’re looking for.”

“What do you think is going to happen? We’re going to seek counsel with an ancient vampire cult and get their blessings on our relationship?" Frederick laughed.

She stared at him blankly for a moment, “of course not, but we are looking for more… supernatural people. That does flare a bit of anxiety, Doctor,” she turned back to the window. She hated feeling laughed at. 

Frederick placed his hands in his pocket and felt the diamond ring he brought from his mother's things with him to Europe. She doesn't know this, but if we pull this off, then I have the ring for her.

The plane landed at Henri Coanda International Airport and after a quick stretch you and Frederick left the plane.

“God, I haven’t been to Europe in forever. This is going to be great. Should we get a cab and head to the hotel? Are you hungry?”

“Yes!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up the next day refreshed in your hotel room. Fredrick, dressing smart as usual, escorts you from your room to the small cafe and bakery next door. "What would you like?" 

“Surprise me,” you answered.

They enjoyed their breakfast before starting their search for the Kays family.

“The Kays family estate is deep in the outskirts of town. We will need a car."

Fredrick and YN walked out of the small cafe and walked back to the hotel. Frederick flashed a smile and his black diamond card to the concierge and before you knew it a black Mercedes SUV was delivered to the hotel. “Shall we?” Fredrick walked you to the car and held open the door for you. 

“So, we need to get to the western countryside. Look for a rundown castle…” Frederick moved into traffic.

The sun peeked over the hill as the couple drove to the countryside. The road was lonesome and dark. Frederick placed his hand on her thigh and lightly gripped it. "Are you ready for this? We're only a few minutes away."

"I'm incredibly nervous. We're possibly heading into a den of vampires for all we know. I'm just hoping I don't become anyone's dinner."

“To be honest, you’ve been in the den of vampires for months and that wasn’t a problem for you.”

“I didn’t know it was a vampire’s den.” 

“And yet you still thrived!”

You just shook your head at Frederick's antics.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frederick pressed the button on the gate and an unseen speaker buzzed, "Hello. How may we help you?" 

“Umm, yes we are here to see the master of the estate on urgent business about a blood garnet."

“Go away,” they responded.

Frederick sighed, “Tell the Matron it is Frederick from Baltimore. We’re old friends.”

“Oh! Why didn’t you say so in the first place? In that case, go away, Frederick from Baltimore.”

[miscfandomwrites]

Mama Chapter Eleven

A/N: I’m trying to pace myself with writing and schoolwork, so we’ll see how that goes. I am also trying to plan out my work and not just improvise when it comes to these series. As always, my inbox and taglists are open!

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Mom! Avenger! Reader

Warnings:

Words: 1.6k

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

~~

“Wrench please! “ I called out, sticking my hand over to Lillith. Said wrench was placed in my hand and I tightened a bolt before handing it back. 

I had decided to work on one of Tony’s ‘Project Cars’ that he never gets around to starting. Or finishing, in most cases. He moves on rather quickly to something new and fresh when things stand at a lull in some cases. But hey, I was the same way.

Lillith’s feet made an audible thump, thump as she swung her tiny legs back and forth from her spot, perched on the corner on the car and under the hood. 

It was moments like these that I love with her. The slow, soft moments where we can chat about anything and nothing. Some days were quiet as she helped me work, both of us absorbed in our own little words ;  others were more chaotic, often ending up with both of us covered in grease and tools everywhere. And pocketed. 

Mostly by Lillith, though. I chuckled at the thought. 

Lately the tower hasn’t been really busy, with the quartet being gone for a mission, Stark and Peter being kept busy by whatever project they’re currently working on, and everyone else doing their own thing. Wanda recently has been cooking a lot (not that I’m complaining, her cooking is like really, really good), and Thor has been starting to hover around her, questioning her about the food and what she’s doing. I blame it on the time her and Lillith tried to make pop tarts for his birthday.

Lillith has been everywhere and with just about everyone since the quartet left. She really likes Bucky and Natasha though, and whenever she’s disappeared for more than an hour she’s either with them or helping Clint pull another dastardly prank on someone. With him taking a break to be with his family, there hasn’t been another toothpaste incident. 

So that means Lillith has been with me. I haven’t been doing anything special-just mostly working on the car or working. Despite the ‘allowance’ SHIELD allocates for me, I decided that also having a side job, despite how much I was paid, was something that I wanted. Besides-making websites and helping set up businesses online was pretty easy once you knew the code for it. And I got paid a decent amount for doing so. 

The car was probably a few weeks away from being finished, a month or two at most. The seats needed to be replaced and most of the car needed new wiring (and fixtures) but since I had nothing better to do for ten to fifteen hours a day, I was able to get a lot done. I finished sorting through my weapons and gear earlier this month, with help from the quartet. Honestly, I believe it was Tony who coined the name, but now whenever I see Sam, Steve, Bucky, and Nat all together I automatically call them the quartet. They’re pretty good at what they do too-with Bucky and Steve taking the brunt of the work and Sam and Nat being either backup or ambushers, they easily get their missions done.

They’ve been gone for most of the month, and to say their presence hasn’t been missed has been an understatement. Wanda, the few times she’s cooked she ended up making too much and there were too many leftovers. Turns out Three super soldiers and a man with wings end up eating a lot. 

And with Lillith asking about them (Again, mostly Bucky and Nat), and her chatting my ear off every other day about how much she liked spending time with them and what they’d get up too, it was hard not to miss them. 

I finished checking the rest of the bolts before popping out from under the hood, and grabbed my bandana to wipe my greasy hands off. 

I smiled at Lillith, who was wearing one of my old flannels and my carhert sweatshirt, all bundled up and flipping through a car magazine. I checked my watch and was surprised that it wasn’t even eleven yet, because it seemed like we have been out here a lot longer than usual. Though, I did wake up around five and Lillith woke up about half an hour after me. We’ve been down here ever since.

“Naptime, kiddo.” I told her as I lifted her into my arms. Without refusal, she snuggled into my shoulder and tossed the magazine on a nearby workbench. 

Naptime usually meant a bath, and since I just washed our bedding I didn’t want to deal with grease stains.

Once we got in the elevator, FRIDAY announced that the quartet was back and on the main floor. Lillith immediately was squirming in my arms enough that I set her down, and she asked the A.I. to take us to the main floor. Politely, might I add. At least she uses her manners.

~~

Barely as soon as the doors opened, Lilith went rushing out, running straight to Bucky. She jumps and thank god he saw her and caught her before she crashed into the kitchen island. 

“Hey doll!” He said as he swept her up in a hug, spinning them around. Steve was talking with Tony about god only knows WHAT tho

se two might have in common, and Nat and Wanda were chatting in Slovikian. 

“Ah! Lady (F/N)! Glad to see you out here!” Boomed Thor as he clapped a hand down on my shoulder. At the sound of my name Steve turned to me, motioning for me to come to him. 

“What’s up?” I asked as I got over to him. 

“We’re doing a mission briefing later, with a video call from Clint. He said to tell you to come to it.” he told me. 

I hummed. “Okay, how later will this be? Lillith needs a bath and a nap, and I’d like to get some work done.” I replied, tucking my hands in my pockets.

“Around sevenish I think, but later.” 

“Got it Cap. I’ll be in the meeting room by then.” 

I made small talk with Bucky about how the mission went, though we talked more about the rifle he was using (He was borrowing one of mine) than anything else.

Soon enough Lillith was the one who ended up in Natasha’s arms, almost dead to the world. She was exhausted, a tiny human like her wasn’t built to keep going on little sleep. 

Nat gently passed her to me and I said my goodbyes as I went up to our floor. 

~~

“The water’s too cold!” Lillith yelled from the bathroom as I dug through her drawers of clothes, trying to find some pajama pants. 

“Turn it to the right!” I yelled back, finally snagging a pair and shoving it into the my arms along with the rest of her clothes.

A yelp from the bathroom had me rushing in to see her clutching her wet hand to her chest.

“Too hot.” she said as she turned the faucet with her other hand. Using said hand to carefully test the water until it was where she wanted it.

Thankfully she already had some bath toys in the tub and in no time I had a soapy child in the tub, scrub a dub dubbing.

“Hey Mama,” Lillith said.

I paused and looked up from my phone, raising an eyebrow at the zebra toy stacked on the giraffe’s back.

“I have a secret,” She started, keeping focus on trying to balance her toys on top of one another.

I kept my eyebrow up. “What’s that, sweetheart?” I asked her.

“Someone likes you!” She yelped as the tower of toys came crashing down on her.

My brain decided to pause and unpause at that, and I had to take a second to respond, picking up the hippo from the ground and handing it back to her.

“And where’d you learn that from?” I questioned, grabbing a towel to dry her off with as she undid the drain to the tub.

“Wanda and Bucky…” she said as she carefully stepped out of the tub and onto the bathmat. I draped the towel over her shoulders and grabbed another to dry her hair off with. 

“Oh really?” I answered, focusing on drying her hair. 

“Mhm! Bucky said I can’t tell you who it is though.” she replied, drying her body off and grabbing a hairbrush. This used to be our nightly routine, but when I had to start pulling later hours we decided that naptime was the best time for a bath. That is, if Lillith manages to get filthy beforehand. Which was most of the time. 

After getting dressed and putting her hair in a braid, we headed back to her room. Still tired from being up most of the day, as soon as she slid into the covers, she was out. I tucked her in and headed out, heading to my room. 

I took a quick but through shower, and picked up both our messes in our bathrooms, and started a load of laundry. It wasn’t even two yet. 

My phone buzzed from its spot on the counter, and I looked to see a text from girl’s group chat. 

Wanda: Can i hang out on your floor?

Me: Why?

Wanda: Because Sam has decided to harass me and I want somewhere quiet

Nat: Can I hang out too? 

Me: Sure? I plan on making break and working

Nat: Sounds great, I’m already in the elevator

I huffed out a laugh and started to gather the things I needed to make bread.

[dragoonkirby]

Here's all the issues that still needs to be fixed in MK1 on Switch

Note: I've been playing MK1 on Switch since release, and I'm really grateful by how much work the devs have made to fix the mess it was at launch (did they not learn their mistakes with MK11?). Still, a lot of issues still need to be addressed. This is only from what I'm seeing myself, I'm sure there's some stuff to fix for characters I don't play or play that much.

So here's the list:

Server issues: disconnected from the server happens often while playing towers or any mode that requires online connection (which is most of them)

Invasions: in all maps, there's always some objects or obstacles that the characters clips through when they walk between nodes. In the Rampart Mesa, there's a section that misaligns the player with the stairs, making them climb them through the wall instead.

End of round weapon glitch: anyone piece of gear/weapon/hat/whatnot will float in midair when a match ends without a brutality.

Loading times: Although they are a million times better than what they were at launch (like a good 30-40 seconds to like maybe 10-15 now) I'm sure there's a way to make everything load even faster. We'll see when season 4 will drop. I'm guessing this could also be why we don't see the characters walk in by the side before the character select screen shows up.

Texture issues: for some reason, the longer you play, the higher the chance that higher quality textures will just, stop loading in, which ends up giving both the characters and stage a very low-res appearance. IIRC, this wasn't the case before (don't quote me on this) and seems to only start when playing online or on the Hourglass stage

Fatalities oversights: a lot of fatalities (mostly the second ones) have odd visual issues. Some duplicate the head which causes an ugly clipping of the models, some characters have specific parts of their model stay visible during dismemberment like Sindel's hair for example. Second Fatalities will sometimes cause the clothes of either one or both characters to T-Pose in place (just the outfits not the character itself) and sometimes not show the facial expressions either

Facial movement during fights: Either during taunts, end-of-round taunts and brutalities (both giving and receiving), characters have no facial animations

Burn marks graphical glitch: whenever a move causes a burn mark on the ground, a black square replaces it instead

-Sindel: Although mostly fixed, there's still a few issues that haven't been patched yet for some reason: Fatality #1 still doesn't show the hair grabbing the arms, a few taunts involving her hair doesn't animate it at all.

Reptile: a few fatalities still show red blood instead of green blood when performed on him. Also, an issue that I've only seen online that affects both of his fatalites will have Reptile's model become off-center during the whole duration of them, showing normally unseen parts of it (the swallowing part for #1 and the head crush for #2)

Li Mei: her facial animations seem off, not completely animating the eyes and making her look stiff. Her lantern can sometimes teleport to the ground when it moves off-screen. Some animations that have fireworks effects will sometimes show that effect at the wrong spot, mostly off-screen. Her Deception costume lacks hair under her bandana.

Raiden: his brutality pose with one hand up holding a lightning bolt has said bolt misplaced to the right at waist height. Two of Raiden's UoL skin recolor (Arcs And Sparks and Smoldering Embers) have a clipping issue under he belt; it doesn't happen with other recolors.

Mileena: EX Ball Roll brutality is glitched with new update, removing the tongue and sometime getting the victim in a loop of getting their face eaten with a copy of their head and right arm behind them. During the intro with her mouth open, the "appendages" on each side of her mouth do not open wide enough like other versions of the game

Scorpion: Deception skin is missing most of the fire on his head.

Ashrah: OoD Skin has her hair clip through her hat

Havik: on of his gear (the one with long hair) still doesn't appear correctly, floats next to his head.

Kitana: although the gray hair issue and missing hair was fixed on her UoL skin, new recolors still show the unfixed gray hair clashing with the added black bangs.

Rain: his staff sometimes appear horizontally instead of the correct vertical; Doesn't happen to opponent for some reason. His UoL mask clips through his nose

Nitara: her OoD skin's hair appear a lot brighter and unfinshed

General Shao: appears to be the glitchiest when he's the receiver of brutalities i.e. floating head during uppercut brutality

Baraka: OoD skin has the outfit stuck in a T-pose and stretches abnormally during fights

Quan Chi: the notification for his tower ending video doesn't disappear

Kenshi: no matter the outfit, his bandanna clips through his face.

Subzero: two pieces or gear (Iced Down and Yeti Master) are identical with the OoD costume. Game crash when viewing the gear. His Deception skin lacks the new blue eyes.

Shang Tsung: his older form will default back to his yellow color scheme during brutalities

All Kameos: During intros, Fatal Blows and the Tower ending fight, any kameo will lose parts of the model (i.e. hair, straps, etc.)

Kameo Scorpion: He doesn't remove his mask or face during his second brutality but keeps the flames

Kameo Sonya: Throw brutality glitch, either the head floats in midair or falls through the ground. Leg Grab brutality glitch, the lower part of the opponent will stop animating and either fall to its side or clip through the floor.

Kameo Cyrax: during the fatality, the sound for the explosion is delayed by a few seconds.

I'll add more when i'll find them and add if some issues are fixed as well

[mamamittens]

Major Tears of The Kingdom Spoilers while I act a sentimental fool and nerd with a "what if" scenario

Okay, so I was thinking (oh God not again) about the Divine Beasts and the Light Dragon.

If you don't know about the deal with the Light Dragon yet and don't want to be spoiled, scroll away sweet summer child! Same goes for the final battle in Tears of the Kingdom!

So it really does bother me that the divine Beasts and the champions (baring Mipha) are just??? Gone??? Like, everyone acts like they never existed?!? And it's unclear if Link in ToTK went through BoTW cause so much of the landscape is different?!? The shrine of awakening is straight up gone, the ancient towers missing, and you don't have any of your shit but the horses?!? Why?!?!?

Like, Tulin (my precious baby who has done no wrong, ever) is referred to as the first Rito to create his own wind but like.... RIVALI DID THAT?!? Like, he had to be squat so maybe they mean in midair but still?!? And Yonobu has a slightly different ability from the shield, like he lost it or something?!? Why?!?

And the divine Beasts are totally gone, no one mentions them and it's not like they were small?!?

Where did they go?!?

Naturally, I had a fun idea for a little... Fixy fix.

Imagine if, when Hyrule Castle went up (again) and all that shit started up, the Divine Beasts were still parked right where they were when you defeated Calamity Ganon (maybe his spirit self and defeating the calamity is why hydrated Ganon has to hide his ass away under the castle on top of being bent over by Rauru for thousands of years--yeah I said what I said and I know exactly how that sounds.

But they didn't activate. They were totally silent while their respective people suffered. And because of that, the races assumed they'd been abandoned by their protectors (baring Mipha, who the Zora assumed she'd simply fulfilled her duty with the end of the Calamity and moved on). And that's why they don't talk about the champions aside from maybe a few hushed comments, a bit bitter that they'd been left to fend for themselves.

And as you fight the area's bosses, there is like, a midway point where suddenly the Divine Beasts jolts and fires a single attack, triggering the second stage before powering down again. When you beat the boss, the Divine Beasts shudder back online and trample over to the nearest chasm, diving in. Maybe a stray voice line from the previous champion about it not being over yet--referring to the round two fight below in the Depths.

And the Divine Beasts are understandably fucked up from the fall, eventually you find them near the boss area.

I thought it'd be cool if Vah Medo was partially frozen over by Colgera with one of the weak spots now over the engine and inaccessible to be hit, so it's left for last. And when you do go to try and bust it open, a sudden updraft sends you flying as it explodes, Ghost Rivali mocking you for needing his help. Beast defeated once and for all (the respawn is a normal variant), you receive the Rivali's Gale again accessed the same way as in BoTW so it doesn't mess with Tulin's Vow.

Vah Naboris is grounded, legs broken (RIP) and the Gibdo Queen almost sneaks up on you but a bolt stops her. Halfway part is the Queen lurching to his inside Naboris' chest cavity while shooting out spawns perhaps? And going in to kick ass until the health is gone triggers a cutscenes of Naboris powering up and electrocuting the shit outta here. Urbosa giving you her lighting attack, letting Riju's be a long range attack and Urbosa being close range area of effect.

Vah Rudania perhaps triggering a spray of lazers or trapping the Gohma? Maybe it skitters up a wall out of reach until Rudania skuttles over and slams it back down for a finishing blow before you're given the improved shield ability? Sounds neat to me, honestly.

Vah Ruta probably starts spraying water, giving the mud spots a time limit and perhaps slamming down the trunk when the Mucktorok tries to go inside to take over the Divine Beast? Finally, you get Mipha's ability again, requiring no button prompt.

They all have their cheeky little lines before stating that it's time they rest and let the Sages handle things from here.

As for the Light Dragon, you absolutely should have been able to tell at least Purah and Impa about Zelda. They both have no idea how to help but set up a station to observe her move through the sky, maybe tooling up towers for extra height to reach for additional research?!? And they decide to craft a gift to show Zelda that they believe in her and maybe see if there's truly nothing left--thats right, you make her a flower crown of Silent Princess's. Maybe with Champion fabric woven in alongside mini flags of the kingdoms, idk. And they're naturally upset when it appears to do nothing but produce a single tear.

This builds up to the boss battle where a cut scene plays just as Ganon takes off with Link. Purah and Impa turn their gaze to where Zelda previously was flying peacefully only to see her gunning towards Ganon.

"I-Is that?!?"

Sages might limp into frame, Riju and Tulin carried by Yonobu and Sidon, all beaten to hell and back but alive.

"It's her!"

And maybe the addition of the flower crown means you slowly heal while riding her to get a good vantage to kick Ganon's ass, idk.

Maybe she has the flower crown still when she turns back for extra points. Her bob braided with flowers and beads representing the crown in the end cutscene, the flower crown displayed in her study.

The Champions turn into Poes at the end, either drifting off as they finally move on or to be collected by link and given to the bargainer statues. Maybe for minis of the Divine Beasts with their Champions that'll be displayed in your house?! Or flags or something idk, something sweet and commemorative.

Anyway! That's just my thought for something that'd be really cool and sorta poetic. Really burying the past and letting it move on, perhaps with a few speeches from the different regions about the champions trusting them to handle hardships on their own now, giving the task of defending the realm to a new generation.

Or maybe I'm full of shit, idk. But I do gotta go to bed, so there's that 🤭

[android-anthology-hub]

A Robot and a Girl - Part 2

So continuing on with the updates, here's part 2 of A Robot and a Girl. And this is our introduction to Himari, one of our support characters for D'Anna. ^_^

You can of course also check out this chapter on Fiction Press, Ao3, and Tapas.

Himari held tight to the frame of the landing doors, her small but sturdy frame holding fast against the rush of air that whipped at her steel gray hair.

She looked out into the solar shaft, the golden yellow diamonds on her shoulders standing out in the morning light against her dark skin.

“Look alive! Get your goggles on, all of you. A stray bolt or driver blade won’t care about cybernetics if you’re not careful!” Himari called out as the aerial craft touched down on the workshop’s landing pad. “Let’s see what they need!”

The workshop crew quickly went to work as they all rushed out onto the landing pad, a wild mishmash of hand-dyed fabric, alloy, and paint. What bound them together was their emblem, golden yellow - the color of the workshop - tattooed, etched, or sprayed onto one arm or another.

She never could help but have a proud smile on her face when she stood beside them.

A young android ran up beside her, their voice ragged as they caught their breath, “Pilot sent our passenger’s papers ahead, once they’re ready and onboard they’ll just be part of the flight crew.”

“Alright, now we just–”

As she stepped out onto the platform they all stopped - the diamond at the center of their emblems pulsing with light as a bell tone sounded in the shop.

Someone was at the door.

“I’ll catch up!” she called out, turning to the young android beside her, “Think you can cover for me?”

“Just fine, ‘mari,” they said with a grin, optical sensors flickering as they stepped out into the whirlwind of the solar shaft.

Himari looked back just as she got inside, “And be careful!”

The workshop was a wide and towering warehouse, big enough to haul in any aerial craft that needed to hang around for more than a pitstop. 

And yet, it was home. In every little space they could, they left their mark, they made it theirs.

They’d worked for months just to expand the old office into the massive loft that now dominated the back half of the workshop. One of them - though none of them could ever remember who - managed to find some great old couch from the upper towers; no one was even sure how they got it up the stairs.

A little work and it just became another piece of home...

With a few taps to the emblem tattooed on her arm, the monitor beside the inner door at the back corner lit up.

"Entry camera," Himari said, stopping at the control for the door. "Let's see who it is."

She raised a brow as the camera view came online - D'Anna, and she wasn't alone. With a small smile, she slid the door open with a simple turn of the switch.

She practically yanked the taller woman through the door, “D’Anna! It’s been months since your last visit, you should drop by more.”

"I've been a bit busy," D'Anna sighed, a slight smile on her face.

She looked past her side to Rosi and the mechs behind her, "Right..."

Himari sighed and waved them all in through the door, "Come on, come on. We're in the middle of a drop."

She closed the door behind them as they made it inside, waving them behind the machinery that held the landing platform outside. 

There were plenty of moving parts in here, and she’d sure as hell keep any of them from stepping in them.

"I'm sure you remember where to go," she said with a smile.

D'Anna smiled back, polite but warm as the others followed her, "you haven't moved that mech table have you? Some of these people could use it."

“Closer to the commons up in the loft, keep folks company while they’re getting patched up,” she said as she ran to meet up with the young android from her crew. 

His optics shifted behind the goggles as he looked down at her, a thick line of sensors running across where his eyes should be. 

“Alright, what do we have to work with?”

"Something's up with their atmo-drivers, I gave them a look, and I think there's a short in a couple of the coils," he explained as the two of them returned to the landing pad.

She pulled the clip off her safety belt, locking it onto the magnetic rail that ran the length of the platform with a single, practiced swing.

"Let's check out those coils then!"

They had seventy minutes to finish their work and get their passengers on board before they had to pack it in.

And still, the clock ticked down…

“You moved the path,” D’Anna’s voice was soft as she leaned against one of the shop's support beams, watching everyone work in the bay below.

"Heh, you almost sound worried about us,” Himari chuckled, looking out to the crew - her family - as they quickly got the craft in the air, and back on its descent down to the landing docks at the bottom of the shaft.

A bell tone sounded outside with ten minutes still left on the clock, a voice crackling out that sector security was inbound. All of them were ready, rushing back in before the platform started to retract, and the doors closed.

Security’s last raid had been far too close.

D'Anna bit her cheek as she looked back at Rosi and the others chatting with some of the crew coming up from below in the commons, “because I am, ma’am.”

“So formal!” Himari wrinkled her nose, her Japanese a harsh but welcome huff as she elbowed the other woman, “Don’t you go calling me ma’am, I’m not that old just yet.”

D’Anna didn’t answer immediately, hands fidgeting in her lap, golden knuckles standing out against the red of the early morning light that came through the bay windows.

She still remembered that scared young lady that came to her door, wrapped in synth-silk, and clutching a scrap of paper with the workshop’s diamond on it. Back then, even as scared as she was, she stood tall and harsh. Himari didn’t know who she had something to prove to, but even then she couldn’t turn her away. It was years ago, and still, it felt like only a short time…

She swore she sounded like a grandmother in her own head sometimes.

"Can you… take them in?" D’Anna asked.

Himari couldn't help but roll her eyes at the young android.

She cared, she knew that all too well.

“Have I ever said I can’t in the past? If I really couldn’t do this, I’d be out there playing boss on one of those aero-craft or a land-ship. I’m up here, and this little crew of ours will do what we can for them. Like always.”

She sighed, shoulders sagging as she watched Rosi get patched up on the mech table, "I know."

Himari turned and looked Rosi over as some of the crew patched them up, eyes lingering on the ionization burns and tow cable damage on their plating, "Shock and Haul, hmm?"

"...yeah, yeah I think so."

She frowned as she clenched her fists, “Rotten little thing, using an arc gun like that. It’s supposed to be a welder, a--a cutter! Not some damn stun gun.”

“I know…”

“Well,” Himari grunted as she rose to her feet, old joints complaining as usual, “let’s see what we can do for them.”

It was good to see D'Anna smile at her again.

With a wry smile, Himari nudged her on their way into the commons together, “So, what’s the job this time?”

“Really?” she raised a brow, golden eyes glancing up with a soft chuckle. “Search and rescue.”

She cracked her knuckles as she came over to the mech table, gently shooing the others to the side.

“Let me have a look at them,” Himari sighed as she closely examined the damage, the young android from before handing her a pair of scanning goggles. “...and the ko nashi that you had to rescue them from?”

Rosi’s eyes flickered on for a moment, glancing between the two of them as they spoke, “I…believe I saw him tied to a table.”

She let out a barking laugh, “Ha ha! Serves him right! Now, I’m going to need you to shut down for a bit so I can check your circuits. Okay?”

Rosi’s eyes let out a nervous click as they adjusted and adjusted again. They looked from Himari to D’Anna with a silent question.

“You’re in good hands, Rosi,” D’Anna soothed, bearing a smile she rarely showed anyone. “Himari here is the lead mechanic.”

“The medic too, don’t pretend you haven’t been ducking me. I need to check your shoulder replacement. And don’t think I didn’t see that burn either,” she said as she looked up through her goggles. “I swear you need to be more careful with those fists of yours.”

“Well ma’am it was either my fists or a core resetter to the face,” she deadpanned.

Himari froze there, clenching her tools tight as she turned back to D’Anna.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Rosi looked back and forth between them before promptly shutting their eyes off again, “Powering down now…”

“Good idea, Rosi,” Himari said with a growing frown. “Good. Idea.”

Himari frowned as she looked D'Anna over while they sat in the commons, D’Anna’s coat hanging off her chair. And all the while, the young android wouldn’t look her in the eye.

They’d argued the whole time she was working. Every moment it was just the same routine that she wished they could change. D’Anna never wanted to talk about it, never wanted to worry her. 

For the moment she tried to focus on bandaging her hand… But there were far more scars than she was comfortable with, more than she saw the last time she was in.

Her blood boiled in a familiar silence that she hated.

“I know it’s dangerous,” D'Anna said, soft-spoken as ever. “But...it’s the job.”

It didn’t have to be, they both knew that.

“You know the crew here misses you.”

“Ma’am, please don’t start…”

“Kiite kuremasu ka!” Himari sighed and rubbed at her brow, “I–I worry about you, okay? This is dangerous work you’re doing.”

D'Anna frowned as her voice grew louder, harsher, “And this job is safe, Himari? What would happen if security found us here?”

She looked Himari right in the eye, freehand curling into a fist as she kept at it, “What if they weren’t in a charitable mood? How would it be any safer than what I do now?”

Himari took a deep breath, biting back so many arguments they’d had before as she stared at the surgical scar on her shoulder.

She wouldn’t shout, not this time.

Slowly D’Anna relaxed, letting her shoulders sag as she looked down at the floor.

She knew she hated the silence too…

“I will always be grateful for my time here, ‘Mari,” D'Anna said, laying a hand over hers as she met her gaze. “But I’ve got work of my own.”

“Orokana… Why you stick your neck out like this, I’ll never know,” she sighed, shaking her head. 

She took a glance over at the mech table, mechanical arms carefully holding Rosi’s exposed frame. 

“Your friend’s plating should be repaired soon.”

D'Anna gave a bow and a polite, but small smile as she spoke, “thank you, for everything you’ve done for me.”

“You’re welcome,” Himari sighed, looking down at her bandaged hand, “I don’t mind helping the people you bring here. I… just wish you could be safer.”

“I know, ‘Mari, I know…”

The quiet was the part of their routine she hated most. But in some ways, they needed it, if only for a few moments.

She kneaded at her brow as she worked through her thoughts, taking it slow as she spoke, “Where to next for you? Where’s home for your friend?"

“Family in the Upper Towers Sector.”

D’Anna gave her hand a few testing flexes, joints barely humming as she stretched her shoulder.

She laced her fingers in thought, looking D’Anna in the eye as she spoke, “How you make getting in and out of the towers look so easy, I’ll never know.”

“I’ve...got friends in a few places.”

“Hmm,” Himari broke into a small chuckle. “So do I, you know. I’d love to know their name someday.”

Before either of them could continue, they heard a soft tone as Rosi came over to them, looking as good as new.

She couldn’t help but admire their workshop’s handiwork.

“Apologies,” Rosi said, their eyes refocusing as they looked between the two women, “I just wanted to know when we would be going. I…don’t wish to keep Cole waiting.”

“Well then-” Himari grunted as she got up, her joints complaining the whole way as she rose to her feet. “-you two have had a long night. And I think the others are settling in just fine.”

Rosi couldn’t smile, but there was something in the way their eyes shined that made Himari smile back at them. She’d had plenty of time to get used to reading those little expressions in these mechanical eyes, the way some of her crew would have a bounce in their step when they were happy, or bear the full weight of their frames when they were down.

She knew D'Anna saw it too from the look on her face as she went to Rosi’s side.

“I’ll meet you at the door,” D'Anna said with a reassuring smile, squeezing their hand.

Rosi tilted their head for a moment, almost studying her bandaged hand before quickly nodding and heading off.

“Of course.”

Himari just kept smiling as she joined her at her side, laying a gentle hand on her arm.

“You’ve been up all night,” she sighed, looking up at D'Anna as she chuckled. “Not exactly a recipe for a good night’s sleep.”

“I know, I know,” she sighed, giving her a small, apologetic smile.

“You should come by again soon, if only for a meal. I meant it when I said the crew misses you.”

D'Anna looked down at her for a moment before giving a firm nod, “I’ll try.”

She lightly punched her arm, giving a nod in Rosi’s direction, “Go on now, you’ve gotta get them home.”

“Yes ma’am.” D'Anna said with a growing smile as she headed off, ignoring the indignant shout that followed after her.

[jenn-the-butterfly]

New Chapter

“You were playing by the tower again weren't you?”

A steaming cup of kefin rested on the counter for a moment before being picked up and brought to the frowning mouth of Jenn, the vapor swaying as she blew on the surface before taking a wary sip. Her focus was riveted to the corner of the table which had been cleared of debris to allow the pair of twin computers to sit comfortably, their heads bowed with guilt at her accusation. From a distance, all of it was rather amusing to the observer seated at his spot at the other end of the kitchen, propped on one hand in an effort to ease and hide his still-aching head.

Moon had been caught unaware the moment Laa flew off without warning after he’d managed to restack the notes he’d knocked over when his hydrokinesis triggered–-everything was dry at least, leaving no trace of his episode. Little Twii was still charging, appearing asleep, so it felt odd her bonded pair would leave unprompted. It became clear when the dark blur returned shortly after, Jenn’s footsteps thudding in pursuit. Had it not been for his reflexes dragging him back from the doorway, they would have collided, and that was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

Now that Twii was charged enough to function, they were gathered in the kitchen, getting scolded for recklessness for something they clearly knew better about. Only Sun was absent for this ‘talk’, having been given a large bolt of material he wanted to take back to the exercise equipment for reasons Moon didn’t have the energy to fathom, leaving only himself to observe the goings-on of this bizarre family. The reassurance that nothing terrible was going to happen after seeing how she dealt with Rukbat’s disobedience was the only thing keeping him from trying to interfere in their favor.

Jenn took a deep, loud drink from her mug. “I’ve told you how many times now?” One of them squeaked, though which one wasn’t obvious to him. “Mm-hm. Every few months with you two, I have to remind you to stay away from the tower when it’s online. I know you know it drains power when you get too close to the generator, but clearly you don’t listen when I tell you. You’re lucky he was there to help.” Blue eyes flashed to him; the twins peered in his direction. “Did you say thank you?”

A chorus of cheeping followed her question.

He took this to be gratitude and nodded at them despite his head throbbing and a tickle running up his back. Reaching behind himself, Moon brushed his nape down to the spot between his shoulders, finding something stringy tucked into the hem of his shirt. Pinching it between his fingers and pulling, he wasn’t prepared for a long piece of grass to be the culprit. Must be from trimming, he figured, laying the wayward foliage on the table. Turning his focus back to the twins and their dressing down, he found them watching him curiously. “Yes?”

“You good?” Jenn asked, glancing at the grass on the table for a second.

“Just a tickle,” he assured, face tinting purple from embarrassment.

Switching back to the twins, Jenn took another long sip of kefin. “I don’t want to have to keep having this talk. That tower is held together by glue, wishes and spite. You two know the retainment field isn’t that great so it’ll draw power from anything near the turbine. You’re lucky you had enough charge to get away and that someone was around to help. Don’t do it again.”

At that, the pair floated off into the rafters, leaving Jenn to her cup of liquid caffeine and Moon to ignore the fact the tickle was persisting somewhere further down than his hemline.

“How many of those have you had?” he wondered, nodding toward the cup in her hands to distract himself from rummaging for more grass in his clothes.

“Like, today or…?”

His brow furrowed. “That’s not good for you, you know.”

“I didn’t say a number.”

“Which means you’ve had more than one.”

She sipped loudly, making defiant eye contact with him.

He grimaced a bit, the tickle distracting him from rebuttal by making his shoulder twitch.

Jenn noticed this, putting her cup down. “You sure you’re good?”

Another twitch he couldn’t hide cut him off before he could answer. “I…” Trying to shake loose whatever was touching him and failing, Moon grunted with defeat. “I guess not.” Giving up on subtlety, he reached under his shirt, running his fingers across his back–

–nothing.

“Sit still. Let me see.” Coming up behind the uncomfortable bot, Jenn placed a hand on his shoulder in an effort to assure him she wasn’t up to anything nefarious. Though he wanted to protest, Moon waited to see if she could find the little nuisance giving him grief in the hope of being done with it and able to move on to other things such as dinner plans. An idea had come to mind he wanted to ask about but deigned to wait his turn until Jenn, having excused herself from returning to her adult playground by way of being tired, finished chastising her tiny computer companions. Once again, the darker brother was appreciative of, yet surprised by, her method of discipline and willingness to permit deviation and mischief without seeking to correct it at the source.

A bit suddenly, Moon felt his shirt lift up, bunching at his shoulders and leaving his back exposed; soft fingers traced down the seams of his shell, eliciting what almost felt like a chill from his surface sensors. Scraping and picking at spots of dirt he’d expected–-despite their supposed value, the technicians brought it to clean and care for them weren’t exactly considerate of their comfort or tolerance for certain types of physical touch-–but this was… unexpectedly nice. The roughest sensation was the feeling of her nail sliding along his spinal seam, accompanied by a thoughtful hum before she moved away.

“Looks like you’ve got some grassy bits stuck where it shouldn’t be. Hang tight, I’ve got something for that.”

Ah. The rough part hadn’t happened yet.

Moon adjusted his seat silently, facing himself backwards with arms folded to cradle his head against the backrest; a very faint sigh left him as he resigned himself to his fate to eliminate the persistent tickle once and for all. Jenn disappeared and reappeared quickly, carrying a tote box the size of a bread loaf that she placed on the table, first pulling out a bristled hand brush followed by an instrument that resembled a hook-ended needle with a fat, wooden handle perfect for the palm to apply force with.

This gave him some concern. “What’re–”

Not giving him a chance to voice his worry, Jenn returned to his blindspot and placed her knee at the edge of his seat, accidentally brushing his tailbone which made him tense again. Misreading his reaction, Jenn’s hand returned to his back to reassure the twitchy bot he was safe, being mindful to be soft and careful. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she spoke in a soothing tone. “Just relax.”

Being told to do so didn’t make it any easier as he knew only to brace for discomfort when being cleaned. First came the brush’s bristles–Moon waited tensely for the scratching and prickling to agitate his sensors, but what came instead felt more like a gentle cloth rubbing back and forth between his shoulders, working its way down in long, steady strokes. Next, focused pressure in small areas–-the chair creaked as Jenn leaned into it a bit, tracing the edges of his panels with the soft pads of her fingertips. The tingle returned, running through his system like warm water easing away his tension and the throbbing of his head as he sat, still waiting for something to hurt or poke him.

Jenn was careful, though, even while distracted. From the outset the human thought both brothers were beautifully crafted and designed, but taking the time to really appreciate the detail work hadn’t occurred to her as repairs couldn’t afford to be compromised by distracted ogling. Now, though, she could really take in the finer details–-the laser etched trim and sanded embossing work that made some parts of them shimmer in the right lighting. Clearly they were a labor of love for whomever put the effort in, even though that didn’t really make sense given what she’d learned about them.

Either they were repurposed or their maker really wanted to push the Goldlite quality to be believable under intense scrutiny.

Jenn held her breath in fear of marring the intricate work just by breathing too hard on it, the fine textures shallow to the point of smooth when touched–though they were much sturdier than they should be, figuring out the upper limit of their alloy wasn’t on her list of things she wanted answers for. Nor was it a good excuse to be sloppy. It took a bit of her willpower to return to her task, glad Moon couldn’t see her face redden from embarrassment. ‘A sucker for a well-built robot,’ she’d been told more than once by others who’d caught on to her inclination for “studying and admiring” synthetics-–to the point of distraction at times. Although it happened on occasion with kitchenware and weaponry for the same reasons, it was only ever acknowledged when the subject of her attention happened to be capable of noticing and pointing it out.

I can’t help that I like to admire art, she insisted, though her own mental voice sounded more like she was chastising herself.

Slowly and with great care, the hook was drawn through the hairline seams of the Moondrop’s shell, removing bits of grass and dirt that had gotten stuck, either from trimming or when he fell into the shrubbery. I should probably check the other one later, she noted to herself, turning the hooked awl side to side carefully to dislodge the bits tucked where the lateral plates met, forming the spinal division line. Once in a while, he would twitch, either between brushings or when the awl was moved to a new area. “Am I hurting you?” she asked the first time only to be met with a distracted grunt. “Am I?”

“No, no, you’re fine,” Moon answered after another moment, seeming to be somewhere else mentally. Continuing the process, Jenn went on her way.

Yellow eyes boring a hole into the tabletop, Moon was grateful she couldn’t see his face change color as he came out of the fog he found himself in from the rhythmic, gentle touch of her hands at his back pushing him into a state of empty-headed relaxation. I completely spaced off, he begrudgingly admitted to himself, now acutely aware of where the awl’s hook was as it went about its merry way across his left side. At least the headache is gone. A faint chuckle kept him from drifting away again, the brush replacing the hook as Jenn dusted the debris off of him completely. “What?”

Hesitating a moment, she hadn’t realized she’d made a sound. “Just thinking.”

Moon did his best to fight the instinct to be suspicious of her dodgy answer. “You’re staring at my back with a tool in hand, I think I get to be curious what you’re thinking about when I can’t see you.”

A tired half-smile he couldn’t see twisted up one side of Jenn’s mouth, her head shaking slowly. “That’s exactly it. I’m just… amused, I guess? That you’re letting me work away at you literally behind your back and you’re not even giving me lip for it.”

Brow furrowed slightly, Moon turned his head just enough to catch her moving at the corner of his eye. “Should I be?”

A strange feeling settled somewhere between Jenn’s heart and her stomach, roiling and hard to ignore. Very gently, she tapped the tip of the hook against his shoulder so it made a metallic ting that got him to stiffen slightly. “Maybe you should be.” She removed the awl from his back, brushing it down with the bristled scrubber. “It would let me know you’re paying attention and not giving me free access to your blind spot.”

A new kind of tension squeezed the coils of Moon’s internal structure, raising caution at what she meant. He wouldn’t freely admit he wasn’t paying attention just a moment ago, but her tone held something that he couldn’t decipher as a warning, yet wasn’t quite a threat either. Not a normal one at least. Sitting up more while forming a response, something triggered the surface alert at his spine–a sensation of sharpness where his shoulders met made him freeze.

The hook’s tip pressed into the pressure point where Moon’s back plates met, the human holding herself carefully behind the instrument in such a way that she could shift forward and put her weight behind a jab that would crack between the seams and drive the awl into his wiring without much hassle. Any attempt to move would give her a chance to escape if he wasn’t quick enough, no amount of reach would grant a good angle to seize her–-he was trapped. Throwing himself back would only risk the awl piercing his shell regardless.

Be calm , he told himself, adamantly refusing to let panic overtake him. It took only a breath for that calmness to settle in, allowing his mind to formulate possible plans and rate their success in rapid succession.

“Take this as a bit of well-meaning advice,” Jenn spoke with an even tone, slowly easing back so the pressure of the hook lessened. “Don’t mistake hospitality for trustworthiness. Don’t drop your guard because someone offered you kindness. Never take words at face value.”

Voice hard, Moon couldn't help but comment, “I’m well aware of the last one.”

As suddenly as it started, the odd tension evaporated. Jenn fully relaxed away, the awl dropping from Moon’s shell entirely and taking the moment of bewildering strain with it. Water running, shuffling and curiosity prompted Moon to turn in his seat in an attempt to understand what just transpired between them but he only met Jenn’s displeased frown. Grabbing the back of his head, she turned him back manually, telling him to, “Sit still, I’m almost done,” as he protested.

A warm, wet rag ran the length of his back, confusing Moon further into vocalizing his thoughts. “What was all that?”

“Was what?”

The tone Jenn used told him she knew exactly what he meant. “The hook in my back. The warning. Or was it a threat?”

Jenn ‘hmph’ed while wiping him down meticulously. “I don’t give threats.”

“Then what was the point of that?” A slow, roiling anger was threatening to bubble up if he didn’t get a sufficient answer soon. Somehow, in some way, this human knew how to piss him off in ways he hadn’t thought of on his own.

Slowly, Jenn let out a breath to buy herself a moment to answer properly, her cleaning motions stopping briefly at Moon’s nape; a warm tingle crept across his shoulders that he fought off to keep his focus sharp. “Azil is many things, but ‘perfect’ is far from one of them.”

Head turning slightly again, Moon listened. The stroke of the rag started again and he hated how nice it felt.

“In a perfect world, people would be who they are at first glance, no mind games or meticulous lies padding out their actions to make you think they’re better than they are. You both have barely scratched the surface of what this world holds and your learning curve just got extremely sharp. Maybe I just don’t want you both making the same mistake I did.”

The cleaning finished but left Moon still confused, his anger evaporating as he rationalized her words. Just what did she mean by that? “I think in this case I didn’t have much choice. It’s not like I could have done it myself.”

“I’m sure your partner could.”

The phrasing bothered him. “Sun is my brother.”

“I know.” More shuffling as things were put away, Jenn briefly came into view on his left as she sealed the tote up and took it away. “He’s still a partner though. A companion. Unless you’re planning to go your separate ways–”

“No!” The word jumped out of him before Moon could help himself, earning a faint quirk of the human’s eyebrow. “I–we–”

Waving his fumble off with her hand, Jenn went on, “My point is, he’s the only one you should readily trust out there, and you,” she stepped toward Moon as he turned in his seat to face her, “need to make sure he’s not putting that trust so freely in others when you don’t even know their last name.”

The coiling feeling returned, harsher this time.

They didn’t know her last name.

Though he knew he could take her in a physical fight, Moon felt shamefully small as he was forced to tip his head up slightly to see the face of the human staring him down–if he didn’t know better he’d think her irises were glowing from how intensely she focused on him. Even with this, though, he couldn't detect a sense of hostility coming from her. Only a feeling that she needed him to understand something.

Something she wouldn’t say.

“Don’t let this world take advantage of your naivety, but don’t let it crush your kindness, either.”

Jenn turned away, shattering the moment just as Moon thought he was about to understand what she was saying between the lines. She moved to a cabinet across from him, reaching up to pull down a large bowl with her back to him, silent. Whatever it was that she’d been trying to say, it only made him annoyed–-the cryptic double-speak was bad enough from Vissara! Quickly and with as much silence as he could muster, Moon stood from his seat and took a step across the gap between them, extending his arm to drag her back and make her talk–-

“Think very carefully about what you’re about to do, Moondrop.”

Moon froze instantly, rerunning the last second to determine if he’d made noise or gave away his intentions by mistake-–he hadn’t even gotten close to her back! Adjusting his stance to be less aggressive, he said, “I’m not doing anything.”

Slowly, her head tilted to one side as if listening. “Sorry, then, for the assumption. I don’t like people moving around suddenly behind my back.”

How did she know? he wondered, squeezing his hand into a fist. I was perfectly silent. Was she actually anticipating me to grab her?

“What do you want for dinner?”

Moon’s thoughts ground to a halt. “What?”

Turning toward him, Jenn held up a bowl, seeming confused as if the last moments hadn’t just occurred and set him on edge. “Dinner? Third meal? You know–”

“I know what dinner is!” Snapping hadn’t been his intention, but being mocked while on the back foot from a bizarre conversation didn’t leave him feeling very pleasant. “I… wanted to ask you about that actually. That's why I sat down in the first place.” More and more he felt there was something wrong with this human that he couldn’t place. It was beginning to bother him on a level he didn’t have the energy to unpack.

“Well, that explains that I suppose. I was wondering why you were sitting there for so long. What did you have in mind?”

Whatever had passed between them had been buried already, gone before he could fully sort out the possible meanings of her actions, so Moon determined he’d need to look into it when he had time away from her intense gaze. For now, he focused on his original task: dinner plans. “What do you have for vegetables out here?”

“Depends what you want to make.”

With deliberate casualness, Moon flanked Jenn at the counter, his voice calm but they both had the other in sight as they sorted out what was available in the crowded kitchen, Moon refusing to be intimidated by the scrawny human and her cryptic statements. Even with his guard back up, he took the time to be mindful, making a comment whenever he stepped behind her or reached through her blind spot to find something. As they moved and maneuvered in the limited space, they settled their plans for dinner, Jenn putting a headphone in one ear at some point in their shuffling.

Maybe I over-thought it, the dark robot pondered, watching the human light her stove fire and begin chopping a round, leafy ball into wedges. Maybe she was just warning me about not standing at her back. It could be a reflex or something? He had his own share of innate reflexes after all–-proper falling, catching incoming projectiles such as balls or cups aimed at his head, things he didn’t think about before doing–-and living alone it would stand to reason she probably had one or two that could be just as unpredictable.

Then why not say it? the argumentative echo of his own voice insisted, trying to drag the persistent paranoia out of the corner he’d relegated it to.

Privacy was the first reason that he thought of, watching Jenn fill the bowl with shrubby bits that crunched under the blade of her kitchen knife. It’s not as if he were entitled to her entire life story, after all–-privacy made complete sense even. It was simply courtesy that she tried to warn him against triggering a possible stabbing reflex if he stood too close.

But that didn’t quite feel correct.

“Ahem.”

Blue eyes stared at him from the kitchen counter expectantly.

Distractedly, Moon responded, “Hm?? What??”

Jenn tipped her head, indicating the space next to her at the counter where a second bowl, full of roots this time, sat waiting to be peeled. “I’m not making this all by myself. You asked, you help.”

Quickly, he countered, “I don’t know how to cook,” but she was undeterred.

“Then get over here and learn. Better to start now than when you’re out in the wilds starving yourself.”

It was a good point but it didn’t stop his displeased groan.

~

Stretching from head to toe with a grunt, Sun paused at the top of the stairs, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of accomplishment that washed over him. A large grin crossed his face and his rays fluttered–-he’d managed to set up his own rig all on his own! And only fall once! Giddiness danced in his circuits, making it hard to stay still for long, but as he tried to calm himself just enough to not slip on the steps, his attention was drawn up, up, up to the sky. Beyond the treetops of blue and green the aurora shimmered and shone, its yellow glow scattering through the clouds as it always did, bathing everything in light that Sun felt almost guilty for not appreciating more until now.

While it was always yellow and green, once in a while the bright lights would twist and dip, turning any color of the rainbow they wanted with little notice. In part due to the tall buildings, viewing the sky from the estate was tricky even under the best of circumstances, but the gnawing guilt in his mind reminded the golden robot that he hadn’t exactly gone out of his way to try in recent months. Partly due to the buildings… and partly due to being kept inside more and more as time went on.

But that wasn’t the case now.

If I wanted, I could stay out here all day and just watch the sky! The idea was amusing and tempting, but more so the thought of laying down and resting had won the bid for his attention. Between the sheer fright of Jenn’s gymnastics skills and his own tumble to the ground when the knot he first used gave out–which Moon was not going to find out about–there had been quite enough excitement for him for the day.

Though it begged the question, where was Jenn anyway? She’d claimed she was tired-–rightfully so after her little stunt!--but there had been a rather lacking amount of Moon in the area as well. Hopefully he was behaving.

Amongst the comfortable thoughts of accomplishment and sky viewing, Sun felt a weight, hidden below the surface like a fish lurking in a muddy pond. It tore his attention from the sky–-was that a flicker of orange? No. Was it? Shaking his head, Sun turned toward the patio, walking himself inside before he could get completely off track.

There had to be a way to make Moon calm down. Yes, that was it. Be it stress from the ordeal or Sun’s own mistakes, he was determined to make this… situation as easy on them as possible. It was his job now. His purpose. There was no more Vissara, no parties and schedules needing completion-–his only priority was Moon’s well-being.

Only Moon’s.

At the back of his mind was a whisper he couldn’t quite make out. The feeling evaded words, but protested whenever he affirmed his dedication to maintaining his brother’s mental health, as if trying to correct him. Why, though? It was simple.

They were leaving eventually. Moon would be his only concern. Jenn was being hospitable–

Would she be lonely when they left?

The clarity of the feeling as it finally revealed itself made Sun stop short in the hallway, stunned at his own thought process. Moon’s words and warnings about not getting attached still hummed somewhere at the fringes of his mind like a search tab left playing in the background, and no amount of thinking about a future far, far from the reach of E’rta city managed to bolster him against the worry that seeped in between the cracks. It’s what I’m made to do, the golden bot tried to tell himself even though he knew he shouldn't be trying to justify it any further. I’m made for humans. It’s… natural to become attached. Taking a deep breath, Sun pushed through the second half of that thought. So it will take more work not to do that. I only have to worry about Moon. I should only worry about Moon.

The clatter of dishware drew him from his affirmations and brought him back to the moment. Someone was in the kitchen! As he neared, he heard more noises–oddly familiar ones at that. Quiet but bouncing, melodic… singing? It was faint, as if done under one’s breath with no music, but it was definitely singing. Leaning behind the door frame, Sun tried to listen more closely between the clang and rattle of kitchen goings-on.

“Like this?” Moon’s voice.

Jenn’s next, the soft melody stopping. “Yep, just like that.”

“This stuff smells odd.”

“You mean delicious.”

Baffled, Sun continued to listen. Was Moon… cooking? Taking instructions? From Jenn?

“Oh, do you know this one?” Jenn again.

There was a pause, then Moon answered. “You listen to The Polifias?”

Jenn chuckled. “Wow, even by name. I’m impressed.”

“Orchestral techno has its moments. They happen to be most of them.”

“You can just say you like them.”

Instead of replying, Sun only heard the faint hum of Moon’s voice as he listened along to a silent song Sun faintly recognized.

They were getting along.

He couldn’t help the grin on his face, a feeling of warm relief filling his chest–-he had to actively dampen the glow that welled up in case it got their attention. Of course it would be music that makes Moon feel at ease!

Another sound of things moving and clanking, followed by Jenn sighing with accomplishment. “There, all done. We should go get him now, make sure he hasn’t hurt himself.”

Tensing a moment, Sun straightened and scrambled back from the entryway. Eavesdropping was bad!

“He’ll be fine, he’s more–” Moon rounded the gap and jumped–Sun jolted in kind, the pair staring at each other for a moment. “How long–” Shaking his head quickly, Moon composed himself. “When did you get in?”

Jenn poked her head around the corner as Sun gestured toward the door, trying to sound confused and natural. “Just now…? I heard talking and came to see what was happening.”

A friendly smile flashed across Jenn’s face, her hands busy wiping themselves on a kitchen rag. “Perfect timing, sunshine. Dinner is hot.”

“Dinner??”

So faint he’d almost missed it, Sun caught a glimpse of Moon seeming pleased with himself as he stepped to the side and gestured for his brother to come in. Sun did so, switching his olfactory sensors on–-the smell was intense and fragrant but incredible, catching him off guard and putting his Re_cycle system into overdrive. He was so used to having his sense of smell turned off by default–-everything in the estate was overwhelmingly perfumed for some reason he couldn’t understand-–that he’d completely missed the spicy, warm, peppery smell of something roasted over a fire. Yum!

Jenn seemed amused by his awestruck staring as she took her seat–still a pile of papers–and said, “It was all your brother’s idea.”

“It’s also my fault if it tastes bad,” Moon added on, trying to hide how sheepish he felt about his first attempt at cooking. That didn’t matter so much to Sun as he squeezed his brother in an elated hug, praising him for his efforts so enthusiastically, it made Jenn laugh quietly.

They’re good boys, she said to herself, watching Moon trying in vain to push his brother off of him but Sun’s longer reach made it impossible. I hope they stay that way.

After the invisible praise quota was filled, the pair of bots pulled up their chairs, Sun launching into the details of how he set up his new practice swing-–minus the bit about falling of course.

~

Bright eyes peered through the dimmed room from the edge of a large mattress; on either side sat the Stardusts, with the head of Rukbat between them. It wasn’t a good sleep time. Mother was restless. He wanted to wake her, but Laa kept the canine quiet with her small hand on his snout. Waking mother was bad, Rukbat knew, but her whimpering hurt.

Mother didn’t let them connect to her when she slept. No commands came through. It was quiet.

Twii made a faint sound, also being silenced by her sister with a look. So odd, these two. Rukbat knew they were not like himself–like the large Aquila. They understood mother in ways he never did. Never could. It saddened him that he couldn’t grasp why waking mother from her bad sleep wasn’t allowed. Mother got mad sometimes, but that wasn’t new! Mother hunted when she was mad. Hunting made for good dinner for good boys.

Rukbat was a good boy.

Mother tossed again, grabbing the blanket with her hand. The shiny arm was put away tonight. ‘Foreign’, mother had called it. Sometimes she did that when her shiny arm didn’t feel good; he wasn’t allowed to play with it when she did. That made Rukbat a bad boy.

But sitting was boring. He wanted to sleep but mother had kicked him when her bad sleep started–never her fault! It didn’t hurt, but the soft, nice bed wasn’t comfy when she had bad sleep. Twitching, rolling, sometimes she spoke–not nice things, nonsense things, noises from the forest. Mother was somewhere else in her bad sleep that he couldn’t see.

Oh, how he wanted to help!

The pattern of mother’s breathing changed. Ears perking, Rukbat put a paw on the bed. She would wake soon! Twii made another sound, concerned; she bowed her head and leaned, tapping her sister's chin. Laa pressed back, eyes locked on her mother.

Sure enough, with a sharp gasp Jenn sat bolt upright, half-coughing. Immediately, the trio rushed her, tongue licking and heads butting with concern and care. It was familiar and reassuring to Jenn to have them there, to recognize she was home when the fringes of deep sleep still painted her vision in a mix of dream and reality. “Guess it’s a crap sleep kind of day,” she mused shakily, grateful for the pressure of her twins on either side of her neck and her canine’s head in her lap.

It was bad enough falling asleep at all was a chore, the feeling of ‘too much energy’ in her body making her restless from the outset, her legs twitching or itching. Even removing her false arm didn’t curb the sensation, meaning it wasn’t because of that thing drawing power this time. “Figures,” she went on, voice creaking with fatigue while she got out from under her sheets. “The one time I want to sleep and it's being a little bracht about it.”

For a moment she considered going to make a drink but Twii blinked her facial screen, displaying the time and dashing those plans. If she woke up the other two, they’d likely get on her about her bad sleep habits and that wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have today. Or ever.

“Welp. Nothing a bit of light reading won’t fix, right?”

Crawling over her mattress haphazardly with only one arm, Jenn pulled herself onto the stacked cube shelves that served as a headboard, placed one taller than the next along the wall nearly up to the ceiling. Rukbat whined, waiting for a command, which she gave-–”Follow”-- as she climbed the shelves to the gap where a faint seam was visible among the ceiling tiles. Reaching up, Jenn found the flush handle and pushed it in, opening a panel that formed a ramp into the crawl space above.

Human, Stellis and Stardusts ascended the hidden passage, turning down the dark, low corner until it opened up again. Under the eaves, hidden and taking up the majority of the house’s size was Jenn’s favorite room–-her personal library; carpeted with random bits of salvaged or woven rugs, her footfalls were muted as she stood straight in the center of the room. The near wall was lined with sturdy, heavy shelves, each lined in turn with tomes and bound sheafs of paper of topics and tales that couldn’t be easily categorized or had yet to find space in the other more accessible spots scattered through the house-–the kitchen had cooking and canning books, the lounge had fiction and entertainment, and her lab had the relevant texts at the ready. Up here, though, was everything else-–and bits of the rest thrown in simply because they didn’t fit on the shelves otherwise.

The far wall had a panel of flexscreen pulled down, programmed into the video feed of the only surveillance camera that still worked on the property, providing a perfect outside view of the yard, the top of Aquila’s roost and the canopy. It helped keep the sloping roof from feeling claustrophobic, she felt. An old, beaten desk took up the wall to her right, nestled in the center of the shelves containing her personal works–-what she was able to organize of them, anyway. The myriad other piles of papers scattered across the floor below had yet to make their way up here. It would probably do her some good to fix that sometime.

Not yet, though. One of those piles was her only seat at the table, so until her guests left and she got her chairs back, they would remain-–like the gray, staticy feeling that hazed her as she pulled out her desk chair to thumb through the papers that were already sitting out. Kinda wish I could just take a bath and be done with it, Jenn thought sternly, glad the papers were what she wanted and she didn’t have to get up again. Unfortunately, mental dust didn’t go away with a scrub or a soak like grime on the body.

Rukbat readily curled up under the desk, in the perfect spot for her to rub his back absently with the bottom of her foot. The twins found ways to entertain themselves on the desk or floor, often chasing bugs or each other as Jenn worked; today was no different, Twii engaging in a game of tag before Jenn had even settled fully. What those two did to entertain themselves during the day was a mystery to her, even after so long, but seeing them happy and thriving was all she needed to know to be content.

It’s been… about three years, hasn’t it? the human pondered, watching as Laa got an advantage by darting behind a book stack to get away from her sister, hiding underneath the shelf below. I’d say time flies but it definitely feels like that long. Longer, sometimes.

She sighed, surprising herself.

Grunting, “Bah,” she turned to the stack of papers once more, rereading the notes she’d placed the last time she was there.

Part way through her review, the intrusive thoughts began.

It’s odd they warmed up so quickly to the Sunrise, but kind of nice too.

Jenn nodded to herself. It was nice, indeed. Almost no one came out this way at all; in fact, she could count on one hand the number of people who even knew where she was to begin with. The twins only liked two of them.

I wonder if they’re online?

Hesitating, Jenn took a breath and gave a quick, “Hey,” to the girls, getting their attention before Laa could pounce on her sister. “Twii, c’mere.”

Chirping happily, the pink blur came over immediately. She hovered, giving a somersault in the air before settling in Jenn’s upturned hand.

“Check my contacts quick?”

A cone of light appeared from the central display node of the Stardust’s facial disk, coalescing from particles of light into a legible screen showing a display from a forum page. Gesturing through the prompts, Jenn navigated to her contacts page, then to her priority column. Only two names were displayed, their statuses underneath showing they were ‘unavailable’.

WKYD3Z7: status–offline (last seen: 46 days ago)

The status line below their name read “bzy in scrap cntry”. Jenn could only guess what was taking so long out that way but it wasn’t unusual for this one to be wandering dead zones where the signal towers didn’t reach so there was no helping it.

The second contact was the concerning one.

MSKBD1X: status–offline (last seen: 126 days ago)

Two-and-a-half months. The status line only read the default “unavailable”.

It’s not like he’s never been offline this long before, Jenn assured herself, but it didn’t stop the worry.

It never stopped the worry.

“Thanks, Twii.” The screen faded away, Twii peeping curiously at her mother who gave her gentle chin scratches in thanks. “Don’t worry about it, just… hoping they’re both alright.”

Jenn allowed her pink child to return to their game, feeling the fingers of concern and isolation drag themselves through her mind-–she shook her head vigorously, which disturbed Rukbat from his nap. “Ah, sorry, bud.” Unbothered, the canine gave her knee a lick and rolled over, pressing his weight into her foot comfortingly. “At least I have you all…”

Yet, she sighed again, laying the papers on her desk.

The intrusive thoughts hadn’t stopped.

At least they can’t leave me.

Jenn squeezed her hand into a fist, grimacing. Not again.

I hope the girls won’t be too sad when the boys leave.

Hand on her thigh, Jenn stared at the papers, trying to force herself to read the notes.

They obviously really like the Sunrise. He’s very kind.

Her nails dug into her skin, trying to get the thoughts to quiet.

Maybe if I offered, they’d want to stay–?

A raw, red flare of lines appeared as Jenn’s nails scraped across her thigh, successfully jarring her from the spiral that nearly got her. “Ow…” Hissing between her teeth at the soreness, she adjusted her seat slightly to rest her head in her hand over the desk. “Knock it off,” she said quietly. “You did it to yourself by looking on the network.” Twii and Laa peeked out from the bookshelf, hearing the grumbling. “Just… be patient. Who cares if those boys want to leave? Soon, you’ll have a companion just like them who won’t want to go anywhere and who you can trust… hopefully… You’ve lasted this long. What’s another year? Or two?” Slowly, Jenn sank onto the desk, forehead pressed into the crook of her elbow; her throat hurt, making her voice crack. “Just be… patient.”

Concerned, the twins exchanged looks before floating down, circling their mother’s hunched form as it quivered, her breath shaking.

It had been a long time since they’d last seen their mother cry-–but there wasn’t anything they could do to help.

… was there?

[brunchable]

Witch's Revenge (Halloween Special Oneshot) || S. Strange x Witch!Reader

Word Count: 3.3K

Warning: Dark Themes, Violence and Gore, Witch Burning at a stake, Cheating, temptation by the devil.

A/N: I dunno who wants to be tagged or not so I just tagged the people who I see in my notifs often hehe. Shout-out to Shakespeare for giving Lady Macbeth killer lines which I used in this story. This is heavily inspired by The Crucible as well.

tags: @goldencherriess @gaitwae @classicrebound @gwephen @thealleydog @lucimorningst4r @allie131313 @dragonqueen89 @xunquish-blog @d0ct0rstrangewife @pinkplayer14 @ironstrange1991 @mirikusashes

Fair is foul and foul is fair. These were the words chanted by the three witches in Shakespeare's Macbeth. There are many interpretations, but for this story, it means; what is good can turn bad, and what is bad is actually good.

Stephen drove the streets of St. Lucia, trying not to jump every time the lightning flashed and thunder clapped overhead. There it was. He saw it when the last bolt jittered through the grey-black clouds that looked like roiling smoke.

The locally-owned burger joint seemed out of place among the downtown buildings that towered above it. The orange neon sign blinked a single name on and off through the pouring rain, “Mike’s Burgers”

He had passed a dozen other restaurants that served burgers while he searched for this place. Why was he suddenly so obsessed with finding it?

The online advertisement claimed Mike’s served award-winning burgers. Stephen was on this errand to get dinner for himself and his wife, she was waiting for him in the hotel room, tummy growling.

Jangling bells made it sound like Christmas when he opened the door and entered. Not much to it. Just an area for customers to stand while waiting for their orders. Pictures covered the walls, mostly of the rich and famous who had just enjoyed Mike’s burgers. Tonight You Belong To Me by Patience and Prudence was playing at the jukebox at the corner of the shop, giving the place an eerie vibe.

There was no one at the counter to accept his order, so he stepped forwards to see if he could attract their attention from the back. From the kitchen emerged a woman, maybe in her mid-twenties, with black hair, and she moved up to the counter in front of him. Her dark deep-set eyes were all he saw.

When Stephen walked in, he wasn't sure whether he should place an order or wait for someone more kind to greet him. She did not seem to be smiling, and he saw that her eyes did not flicker.

“My name is (Y/N),” you nearly whispered.

“Hi, (Y/N), I, um…”

“I'll be happy to take your life.”

“What?” Stephen stepped back. “What did you say?”

“I said, I'll be happy to take your order?” you held up a pad of paper and pencil for him to see.

“No, no, that isn't what you said.”

You continued not blinking or even smile.

“Okay, okay." Stephen tore his eyes away from you and looked at the menu posted on the wall. "I’ll take two of the double cheeseburger meals with fries and coke for the drinks please.”

“I’m going to murder you in fifteen minutes.”

“Wha—? Look, young lady,” he pointed his finger at you, but stopped short. The tip of a butcher knife appeared from below the top edge of the counter.

“Sir,” you said, “all I said was that I'll have your order ready in fifteen minutes.”

Stephen turned to leave when a man stepped out of the kitchen.

“I’m sorry. I was out back chasing the varmints away from the garbage cans. It’s a constant battle. I’m Mike. Can I take your order?”

“Who is she?” Stephen was sweating, his breath coming in short gulps.

“Who are you talking about, mister?”

Stephen charged the counter and slammed his fist down on it. “You know who I’m talking about. The woman who just took my order while she threatened to murder me with a butcher knife.”

“There’s no woman here, sir, just me. I run the place on my own.”

“But she was right there where you are standing now, and she threatened to kill me in fifteen minutes.” Stephen rubbed his temples. “She said her name was (Y/N).”

Mike grabbed Stephen by the front of his raincoat and pulled him against the counter. “Look, buddy. I don’t know who you are, but you aren’t funny. What (Y/N) did to the rest of our family was horrible, but she’s a sick girl. It wasn’t her fault.” He pushed Stephen away. “Now get out.”

“What did she do?” Stephen approached the counter again. “Where is she now?”

“What she did was in all the papers and on the news. Where she is now is none of your business.”

“I'm sorry, but I’m not from St Lucia. I never heard about what your daughter did.”

Mike rounded the end of the counter and joined Stephen on the other side. He walked up to the wall of portraits and indicated a certain one. It was a picture of the guy and the female Stephen had seen across the counter. Those were the eyes he would never forget.

“That’s me and my daughter just a few weeks before—a few weeks before she murdered my wife, son and another daughter. The state has custody of her now. They put her in a place for people who are…”

“Insane?” said Stephen.

“Yes, but she isn’t simply insane.” Mike turned to look Stephen in the eye. “She is gifted. She can do things with her mind.”

“What kinds of things?”

“She once caused a dog to stop walking like it was instantly frozen. The dog whined, but it couldn’t move."

"Did she ever use her gift on people?”

“It was a family secret. If she used it on people, she never talked about it.” Mike looked at his shoes for a moment as though he were making up his mind about something. “On my wife’s side of the family, back in England in the 1600s, there was apparently a witch who put a curse on the land and those you lived in it. The townsfolk burned her. We think she’s chosen our daughter to get revenge.”

Mike went back around the counter. “Sorry, I practically pulled you out of your shoes a few minutes ago.”

“It’s okay. I think I understand now.” Stephen lied, but thought of everything as horse-shit. Witches? Where are they? In Salem?

“Well Mister, it looks like you’ve got about five minutes to live. You’d better be on your way unless you want to order.”

“I told you. I already ordered.” Stephen stepped out into the storm, got in his car, and left the madness behind him.

Approximately five minutes later, when he was stopped at a traffic light, he heard something moving in the back seat of the car. He cast a quick peek in the direction of the rearview mirror. Your black eyes without a grin met his, and the point of the butcher knife glinted like lightning as it came into contact with his skin. The light changed to green, but Stephen couldn't get his car to move forward at all. Drivers behind him honked their horns and drove around him.

Stephen sat, holding the wheel, unable to move. “(Y/N), I understand you want revenge. But why me?”

“I wish you could remember.” Cold metal touched his throat. “You were the man back in England who lit the fire beneath me.”

“That's crazy. You're a young woman, and I'm a working man whose wife is waiting for me to bring her dinner."

"A wife? Are you faithful?"

"What are you going to do to me, (Y/N)?"

“You will burn at my hand like I did at yours.” The car shook from a muffled explosion under the hood. Smoke rolled out and rose toward the black-grey clouds. You laughed a hysterical sinister laugh. Flames reached into the passenger compartment like orange and red fingers.

When Stephen felt the fire beginning to close up on him, two different thoughts went through his head at the same time. The first thing that sprang to mind was the night, many centuries prior in England when he put a torch over a pile of timber and heard a woman scream.

He recalled the terrible stench that remained throughout the central part of the town, seeping into every crevice and every crack and colouring them with the awful odour. The screams reverberated off of the stone walls, and they could be heard in each and every passageway and alleyway. Screams of the condemned that were once cries for help, a chanting that covered the horrible noise, making it dull and voiceless.

Second, he realized the reason why she was screaming.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

400 years ago, Peddle Lancashire, England.

"Stephen?" You called out your husband's name. You heard a muted commotion coming from the door. As you swung open the door, a naked woman holding your bedsheet ran past you. You laid eyes on your husband looking dishevelled. With your hand over your mouth, you ran out of the house.

"I will go to the church, and tell the priest." you thought. Before you even got halfway you saw him running after you with only pants on.

"Witch! My wife is a witch!" he shouted. The shock made you stumble. Was his plan is to accuse you of witchcraft so that you are killed? If you were dead, you wouldn't be able to tell anyone that your husband slept with another woman.

"If I could make it to the church in time, I will be able to explain what happened-"

Air left your chest as you were knocked to the ground by your cheating husband, your dress now wet with mud. You snapped your head back up at him, there was no taking those words back now. The Sheriffs who heard the commotion immediately ran towards you, grabbing you by the arm.

“No! He lies! I know nothing about witchcraft!” You them off as they dragged you away, to take you to jail, “Stephen! Help me—You know I would never do such a thing!” 

Stephen swallowed hard, unable to speak. He looked as though he didn’t know what was going to happen next. He was muted by his own actions while the town watched in shock. They knew that you never missed a sunday mass, a bible study, you donate generously to help the church and help the strays. You helped the community by assisting your husband visit the sick, you go into the forest to collect the herbs for their teas. 

“Sir?” The sheriff of the town tried to grab Stephen’s attention, giving him the chance to speak up for you but he only shook his head. If he confessed then he would lose his credibility, as a healer, “Very well. You need to come with us, (Y/N).” 

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

There were trials to determine whether or not a person was a witch; but, since people were afraid they would die if they participated in the trials, the mayor devised an alternative technique; By making a notice that described the situation and adding points to identify witches, people could hand witches over to be dealt with. And of course there would be a reward for the townspeople's help, with this in mind he made a notice to be seen the next day.

The next morning after everyone in town saw that notice, people were glaring at each other, no one was smiling. You remember seeing a crowd at the bulletin board and going to see what the fuss was about. It was a notice on witches with a fine reward if you found one and handed it in to the sheriff. There was a list of things a witch would do or would show traits of, these were:

- Animals, mainly cats, love them

- They float if thrown in water

- Practice witchcraft by spending most of their time in the forest

What happened next, no-one was ready for. One month after the notice had been put up, there were 17 women in jail, all accused of being a witch.

You were tossed roughly into a wet, cold cell where stone walls were fractured in parts, providing ideal nesting grounds for the insects that had already claimed it, blocking out any sunlight from outside. You had dozens of ideas racing through your head, but as soon as the mayor entered the cell, they all vanished.

"Well I never thought that you would be a witch," he said, but you did not reply. He frowned, "Not talking, oh well, I only came to inform you that your trial will be held in five days, till then rest well." 

He turned and made his way out, you began to panic, internal screams filled your very soul, but still you did not speak, what was there to say? You broke down, weeping and curled into a ball, you would die like all the rest, no one would stand up for you and your husband made that clear. 

After doing so much for this community, you were now treated the lowest of the low. Given nothing but leftover bread and cheese for dinner, no breakfast or lunch; sometimes nothing at all. No warm blanket or a pillow under your head. You prayed every night for a miracle but what came for you, you did not expect.

“Cruel isn't it? You pray and pray and pray but no one answers. . . yours is by far the loudest one, hence why I came to answer your desires.” A voice and a pair of glowing beady eyes came from the darkest corner of the cell. 

You weakly pulled yourself up, “H-how did you get in here?”

“You have something that I want.”

“W-who are you?” 

“I go by many names, Samael, Lucifer. . . Satan.” A tall shadow stands and you begin to get this heavy feeling in your chest.

“Get away from me!” You yell out and begin reciting prayers but the devil only laughs. 

“It’s truly sad that this is how they repay you for your undying service, isn't it? How your husband broke the holiest of vows but isn’t getting punished for it. He should be the one here, not you.”

“I will not be tempted by you! Leave!”

It laughs once more, “Your husband will come and visit you—Call upon me and I will answer.” The large shadow vanishes when the sheriff knocks on the cell bars, telling you to shut up. 

Two days later you heard the sheriff let someone in, it was your husband. He stood in front of your cell, crouching down, “I’m so sorry—I wasn’t thinking straight. I-I didn’t want you to ruin our marriage by—”

“Me? Ruin our marriage?” You laughed, leaning your head back against the stone wall, “That is gold coming from you, husband.” 

“I’m sorry.”

Finally, you turn your head to take a good look at him before crawling with what's left of your energy to plead with him to get you out, “Then convince them that your good wife is innocent! I promise I won't speak a word of what I saw. We can even leave town, start a new life, every town is in need of a healer.”

Your husband looks down and no words leave his mouth. You come to a realisation then that he would sacrifice you, rather than his occupation and his image. You dropped your hands and moved back to your corner.

“Get out.”

“(Y/N)—”

“GET OUT!” 

He rose up and looked at you with pity, “May the gods have mercy on your soul.”

It seemed like years to you, even though the days passed as quickly as a baby sparrow would leave its nest. Your cell was unlocked and you were hauled out, indicating that it was time for your trial. After being placed in a wooden cart, one could easily get the sensation of travelling and halting. The other women in the cart were either crying or praying though they knew their prayers won’t be answered.

Men set you up on an oak log and fastened your hands behind the pole they used to prop you up. You fiddled and writhed, but you couldn't get the knots free. People started piling up in front of you, some of whom you recognised. They were shocked to find you standing on the execution platform with your face to the audience and tears streaming down your face. You just remained there, attempting to accept your destiny, knowing there was no way out. Your expression blanked out as wrath seethed and consumed you.

A man's voice rang over the crowd, "This woman has been found guilty of being a witch, she spends most of her time in the forest, strays linger around her, even accusing her good husband of breaking his holy vows to her, any objections to this claim step forward now."

Your eyes darted around the faces in the crowd, silent begs for help, they knew you, they knew you helped them, so why did they not speak up. 

"No objections, then let the execution begin." The sheriff handed your husband the torch and he allowed those flames to touch the hay. Flames of hell began to rise, happy to engulf another victim with no mercy. Your toes begin to warm, that sensation changes to a burn, as if you were sitting too close to a fireplace. You began to scream and yell, yelling bloody mercy to the sky around you as the robes of flame enveloped your body. At this execution everyone was silent. 

From the distance you saw a tall hooded figure, its beady eyes staring right into your soul and you called upon it.

"Come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here and fill me from the crown to the toe top-full of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood, stop up the access and passage to remorse, that no compunctious visitings of nature shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between the effect and it! Come, thick night, and pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell—" You yelled curses towards those in the crowd for turning away, for your husband who began the fire, and for accusing you. Even though you were in excruciating agony, you persisted in calling upon the devil; if becoming a witch is what they desire, then a witch you will be.

"Keep my raging spirit here in these lands eternally. Make me an infection that spreads through the descendants of those who turned their backs on innocent women." You were no longer able to think since the dense smoke had clouded your thoughts, and your skin was peeling and melting away. Your blood boiling and bones cracking, shattering, it would all be over soon, you would be at rest soon. Your last movement was to lock eyes with your conniving husband.

"Fair is foul and foul is fair. I don't deserve this—I will be the cause of your thousand painful deaths."

Burning flesh replaced the smell of the muddy town, and tasted bitter on their tongues, but finally, the screams fell silent. It would take three hours until the flames died, leaving your unrecognisable charred remains at the centre of the town.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

As Stephen made his way back to consciousness, he was still lying in a hospital bed with burns of the third degree covering both of his arms. His hands were his most valuable asset, but they were destroyed in the incident. The recollections of what seemed to be his previous life are made much more difficult to forget as a result of this.

Your appearance appears in his sleep dreams night after night. The cackle of the flames, watching you burn, and listening to your cries for help. On occasion, he is the one who is rousing himself out of sleep with his screams.

"Doctor Strange?" The nurse makes many attempts to get his attention. When he turns around, he sees a monstrosity with only half a face; her cheeks seem as if they are melting off like wax, and her skin is red and riddled with blisters. Stephen squeezes his eyes tight as his heart pounds wildly within his chest and he takes a few deep breaths.

"N-Nothing. I just—" He cuts himself off when her hysterical high-pitched laugh begins echoing inside his room.

"Can't handle a little burn, can you?" She tilts her head, her voice becoming disembodied to different pitches, "Good."

[chiyoda-division2]

“You may live to see man-made horrors beyond your comprehension.” -Nikola Tesla

Introduction ⚡️

Raiden Otoha(音羽雷電),  a.k.a. Tesla on rap battles is an electronics design engineer and the 2nd member of Chiyoda Division’s 狂音INC.. He’s a genius in the field of electronics, aspiring to one day be called a ‘mad scientist’ just like those he idolized so much since he was little. A former delinquent, Fusao saw potential in his brilliance and scouted him to work at his audio equipment company, Wonder⇓anD Sound Systems.

It’s believed that he joined the DRB not only to let people further know about his ‘genius’ but also to enact revenge against a certain priest from Ginza.

Link to neka used

Link to picrew used

Appearance

Raiden is an albeit taller than average man in his mid-late 20s. His beige skin is littered with countless burn marks, most notably one on his right eye and at the palms of his hands. He has shoulder-length, black hair with blonde inner colouring dyed in to match his golden eyes, whose pupils grow abnormally large whenever he gets excited; sometimes, his bangs are held back by a yellow clip in the shape of a wing. He has two beauty marks under his left eye.

At work, Raiden is usually seen with a white button up, a black tie, black pants and brown dress shoes. His shirt is partially unbuttoned as to reveal the tattoo on his neck: an ECG graph.

Outside work, he puts on a beige overcoat and a black harness underneath that, and his dress shoes are replaced with knee-length boots whose soles further add onto his height.

He always wears gloves regardless of the situation.

Name Meaning

Raiden(雷電) - Thunder and lightning (also one of the alternative spellings for the god Raijin)

Oto(音) - Sound

Ha(羽) - Wing

Nicknames and Aliases

Tesla - MC Name

Mad Genius/Scientist - Himself (rarely, others)

936_HRTZ- online username (he is using something else that isn’t PROFILE)

Smartass, Madman, Crazy bitch, etc… - others

Rabid dog(affectionate)- Fusao

March Hare/Haigha

Nozomu “Zom” Yunichi

Berserker

Biographical Info

Gender - Male

Age - 28

Birthday -  November 26

Star Sign - Sagittarius

Ethnicity - Japanese

Hair Colour - Black and (dyed)blonde

Eye Colour - Gold

Height - 6’1” (6’5” in boots)

Markings - ECG graph tattoo on his neck, burn marks scattered across everywhere most notably on the right side of his face

Piercings - Lobes; double helix (left ear only)

Family -

Estranged Father

Estranged Mother

Voice Claim: Tetsurou Noda (speaking); Takuya IDE (singing/rapping)

Fun Facts

Occupation - Electronics design engineer, scientist (self-proclaimed), vigilante???

Division - Chiyoda

Team - 狂音INC.

Position - 2nd Member

Favourite Food - Toast

Least Favourite Food - Pork

Likes - Chiyuri’s naivete,  his friend group aka the ‘Shunsai-gumi’, Nikola Tesla and his ‘death ray’, tinkering with electronics, being called a scientist

Dislikes - Chiyuri’s naivete, Fusao’s concerned stares, people questioning his genius, adulthood, Masa and his little sheep, the concept of family

Image Color - Lightning Yellow (#FCC01E)

Hypnosis Microphone

Raiden’s Hypnosis Microphone takes the form of a handheld mic, the band right between the windscreen and the handle has 2 prongs on opposite sides. The handle is black with a yellow triangle containing the letter T stylized to look like thunder on it, lastly, the bottom of the handle has a yellow lightning bolt sticking out.

Raiden’s speakers is a replica of the Wardenclyffe Tower, the lab building that accompanies the tower has all of its windows replaced with speakers. Lightning strikes the top of the tower depending on the beat. Whenever he activates his mic, a ‘high voltage’ warning written in white with a red glow flash around his speaker which disappears after a couple moments.

Raiden’s rap ability, Death Ray 936 electrocutes his target, stunning them for 3 turns, he can only use his ability for 3 times in one battle and the cooldown is loooooong.

Raiden’s rap themes mainly revolve around the mix of ‘lunacy’ and ‘genius’ and sinking further into madness. He references breakthroughs in the history of electromagnetism a lot; he also raps about how there’s one absolute truth: physics and that there is no higher being besides that. Another thing he raps about is refusing ‘adulthood’ not in the sense of growing older, but rather letting go of one’s dreams and aspirations just for pleasing the world around them and becoming a husk of yourself.

If it’s not his turn to rap he’ll most likely laugh like a maniac in the background.

Personality

Unfortunately for Raiden, he comes across as loud and obnoxious at first and practically lacks an inner voice. He believes in his own abilities a lot and this pretty much causes conflict with his co-workers quite often, though, he is very passionate towards his work, even if sometimes it doesn’t really align to the kind of job he took.

Due to a large part of his childhood, he has great distrust and disdain towards adults and has a different perception on what counts as one. He rarely gets along with people older than him.

Despite everything though, he’s an honest person through and through, he immediately goes to the point in things that he wants to say. He is very loyal to people he consider important and he can get quite overprotective toward his loved ones a lot, though this comes to a point that he wouldn’t hesitate to resort to violence (and even destruction) if it meant their sake.

As for that vigilante persona of his… that’s something else to talk about in another day.

Background

<???>

Trivia

His birthday is also Lucien Gaulard’s death day, known for developing a power transformer with John Dixon Gibbs, a major contribution to the development of alternating current

He can reverse engineer almost any kind of device regardless of its complexity and size

One time he broke several windows on his workplace with speakers, his co-workers and Fusao were not happy about it

He thinks Kanon Hojo from Shizuoka is cute C:

Had he not been in the field of electronics/physics, he would be in the medical field instead

When he was younger, he swore that he wouldn’t live past 21 years old

He has a strange relationship with Nishio of Echizen division that even his friends couldn’t comprehend

Despite idolizing the likes of Nikola Tesla, he hates pigeons

[randomisedgaming]

We take one final look at Kinect and DLC on the Xbox 360 still avaliable to buy. Last chance to grab free DLC, along with DLC store patches and compatibility packs

Be aware the following Xbox 360 DLCs can't be purchased on Xbox One, but is supported and is on the 360 to download or buy:

Banjo Kazooie Nuts & Bolts (Only DLC isn't sold on Xbox One) Borderlands 1 & 2 (DLCs works on One but needs purchasing on 360) Civilization Revolution (Three DLCs) Darksiders II (DLC only on 360 as delisted on Xbox On) Dirt 3 (Online pass for game, online play will become impossible without it) Earth Defense Force: Insect Armageddon (Both DLCs) Elder Scrolls Oblivion, The (Wizard's Tower errors on Xbox One store) Fight Night Champion (DLCs has to be bought in-game) Kameo (All five DLCs missing) Killer is Dead (Only DLC can't be bought) Lara Croft and the Guardian of Light (Things That Go Boom Challenge Pack 2 not on One) Lost Planet 2 (Map Pack 1) Maw, The (All three DLC can't be purchased on Xbox One) Monday Night Combat (One DLC Spunky Cola Special required for online) N+ (All three DLCs, one is free) Outfit, The (One of the free DLCs isn't on Xbox One) Perfect Dark Zero (Both map packs) Skate 3 (After Dark Pack, must be downloaded via in-game menu) Sonic Generations (It's only DLC ‘Casino Night’ Pinball isn't on One)

Store closes on the 29th we don't have a time yet.

Follow Randomised Gaming on Tumblr, YouTube, Twitch & Twitter for video gaming & video content! Buy us a tea on Ko-fi

[fettesans]

Top, photograph by Carlos A. Moreno, from the editorial Amazon was supposed to transform a Tijuana slum. It failed to deliver, for Rest of World, December 12, 2022. Bottom, installation view Thomas Hirschhorn, Fake It, Fake It — Till You Fake It at Gladstone Gallery, January 24 – March 2, 2024. The installation resembles the aftermath of a gaming session gone bad, with screens showing images from video games mixed with pictures of actual destruction. Via.

Nueva Esperanza is a neighborhood of several hundred inhabitants. Above it looms the sky-blue Amazon building, towering over abandoned parts and mattress springs, all soon to be turned into building materials for people’s homes. The only paved street is the one that goes in and out of Amazon’s fulfillment center. During her shift, Martínez works with two other colleagues from the neighborhood. The three make up the entirety of the night-time cleaning shift at the distribution center, a massive 32,000-square-meter building that is a 500-meter walk from their homes. When it rains, dirt roads turn into knee-deep rivers of mud. There is no other way for them to get to their job. Martínez must change all her clothing and shoes each time she arrives at work.

Limited to contractor work in the cleaning and canteen areas, pay is scant. Amazon workers from Nueva Esperanza currently working at the distribution center are paid 52 pesos (just over $2.6) per hour. Tirso Hernnández, a 59-year-old cleaner at the warehouse, told Rest of World this is less than what other employees are paid for doing the same work for other companies nearby.

“It was the only thing we could have direct access to,” Martínez told Rest of World, “because for other jobs, you had to apply online and, well, many of us don’t know how to do that, let alone have a computer.”

--

In October, the venture capitalist and technocrat Marc Andreessen published on his firm’s website a stream-of-consciousness document he called “The Techno-Optimist Manifesto,” a 5,000-word ideological cocktail that eerily recalls, and specifically credits, Italian futurists such as Marinetti. Andreessen is, in addition to being one of Silicon Valley’s most influential billionaire investors, notorious for being thin-skinned and obstreperous, and despite the invocation of optimism in the title, the essay seems driven in part by his sense of resentment that the technologies he and his predecessors have advanced are no longer “properly glorified.” It is a revealing document, representative of the worldview that he and his fellow technocrats are advancing.

Andreessen writes that there is “no material problem,” including those caused by technology, that “cannot be solved with more technology.” He writes that technology should not merely be always advancing, but always accelerating in its advancement “to ensure the techno-capital upward spiral continues forever.” And he excoriates what he calls campaigns against technology, under names such as “tech ethics” and “existential risk.”

Or take what might be considered the Apostles’ Creed of his emerging political movement:

We believe we should place intelligence and energy in a positive feedback loop, and drive them both to infinity … We believe in adventure. Undertaking the Hero’s Journey, rebelling against the status quo, mapping uncharted territory, conquering dragons, and bringing home the spoils for our community … We believe in nature, but we also believe in overcoming nature. We are not primitives, cowering in fear of the lightning bolt. We are the apex predator; the lightning works for us.

Andreessen identifies several “patron saints” of his movement, Marinetti among them. He quotes from the Manifesto of Futurism, swapping out Marinetti’s “poetry” for “technology”:

Beauty exists only in struggle. There is no masterpiece that has not an aggressive character. Technology must be a violent assault on the forces of the unknown, to force them to bow before man.

To be clear, the Andreessen manifesto is not a fascist document, but it is an extremist one. He takes a reasonable position—that technology, on the whole, has dramatically improved human life—and warps it to reach the absurd conclusion that any attempt to restrain technological development under any circumstances is despicable. This position, if viewed uncynically, makes sense only as a religious conviction, and in practice it serves only to absolve him and the other Silicon Valley giants of any moral or civic duty to do anything but make new things that will enrich them, without consideration of the social costs, or of history. Andreessen also identifies a list of enemies and “zombie ideas” that he calls upon his followers to defeat, among them “institutions” and “tradition.”

“Our enemy,” Andreessen writes, is “the know-it-all credentialed expert worldview, indulging in abstract theories, luxury beliefs, social engineering, disconnected from the real world, delusional, unelected, and unaccountable—playing God with everyone else’s lives, with total insulation from the consequences.”

The irony is that this description very closely fits Andreessen and other Silicon Valley elites. The world that they have brought into being over the past two decades is unquestionably a world of reckless social engineering, without consequence for its architects, who foist their own abstract theories and luxury beliefs on all of us.

Adrienne LaFrance, from The Rise of Techno-authoritarianism - Silicon Valley has its own ascendant political ideology. It’s past time we call it what it is, for The Atlantic, January 30, 2024.

[vulturereyy]

Rey's OC Masterpost!! (as of 5/29/2023)

I realized I've never done one of these, like ever, anywhere, so. Maybe now is the time to change that! My OCs are from various fandoms and genres, and some are used more than others. General rules for them are as follows: Asks about them, questions, comments, all okay! If you do fanart I think I am legally obligated to marry you LOL, but really no pressure! Please do NOT use my art of them or their exact character for your own use. You are welcome to be inspired by them, and welcome to include them on references for commissions like 'I want hair like this character' etc so long as you credit me for the art! But please do not take their stories and images 1:1.

Please do not kin my characters. It makes me exceedingly uncomfortable and you will be blocked. Without further ado... Get ready to see some gay little bitches!!

Sorbet Lemonbalm

My beloved. My wife. My husband. She's been divorced three times. She's left the altar twice. She's never been married. She's my weed smoking girlfriend. She's in a polycule with a kobold barbarian and the Moon God.

Sorbet is my most recent D&D character, played during a homebrew campaign that I cannot wait to get back to. She's a Firbolg, Oath of the Ancients Paladin/Lunar Magic Sorcerer multiclass. DEVOUT follower of Selune, the moon goddess, and currently her champion, even if she frequently feels like she is not up to the task and the responsibility is slowly crushing her. Accidentally became the Fey King of the Summer Court during one of our final battles with our phase 1 BBEG, when our bard used modify memory in a very cool (and very homebrew) way against the corrupted fey queen. (She does NOT want to be fey king and has tried to pass on the crown to almost every other fey they've met since). Most recently, she 'GET DOWN MR. PRESIDENT'D' her own goddess and tanked a rival god's magic bolt, destroying her tower shield in the process and giving her those necrotic scars down her side. But this bitch survived with 1 fucking hit point!! I'm trying to keep these short, but I could write an essay on Sorbet. She's the first D&D character I've really gotten into, even doing a REAL ACTUAL CHARACTER VOICE FOR HER (shout out dimension 20 a crown of candy for making me feel like I could), and everything!! I love playing her SO so much and I hope that she can wreck shit in Astora again soon. Our sessions are all recorded, maybe one time I'll get a clip together and be brave enough to share.

May'la Sugarfoot

May'la is my sweetest khajiit Elder Scrolls Online OC. She's from a moonsugar farming family in Khenarthi's Roost, though she took on a path of becoming a chef in Mistral after she found she was unable to really help as much as her sisters in the sugar fields. May'la eventually worked her way all the way up to being one of the head chefs in an Alik'r merchant house, though her real passion will always lay in baking. May'la dreams to have her own bakery one day, though she also has a far larger dream of becoming a member of the Antiquarian's Circle.

May'la's mother, Dra'tarrina, is a senche-raht pit fighter and former member of the Undaunted, who toured in Dragonstar Arena for years. When May'la was just a nosy kitten, she found her mother's old armor and shrine to Boethiah -- still strangely well-tended. Unable to curb her youngest daughter's incessant curiosity, Dra'tarrina began telling May'la tales of her time in the arena, and her quiet worship of Boethra, the khajiiti aspect of Boethiah. Boethra worship was all but wiped out with the Riddle'thar epiphany, and as such, May'la has secretly made it her life's goal to find and preserve any scrap of Boethra worship and lore she can. She wants to eventually present to the Antiquarian's Circle so it can continue to be passed on.

Devotion (Llewyllyn) and Gytha (Hollow Knight) (I reuse names)

Devotion is my current main Hollow Knight OC. She's a tall, toned dragonfly knightess with an extreme, well, devotion to the White Lady. She served in the Queen's Guard for years, but eventually succumbed to the infection. Terrified of hurting her fellow knights or her queen, Devotion threw down her shield and nail, and fled all the way to Kingdom's Edge. She sealed herself off in one of the many caves, and essentially... Rotted by herself in that horrible, blinding light until the Radiance was finally defeated 😭. The infection took most of her memories with it, but she had repeated her oaths to herself until her voice gave out. Everything is hazy for her post-infection, but she remembers a White Lady -- and remembers that she is dearly devoted to her service. Devotion is currently in the Colisseum of Fools, attempting to train herself in mind and body again, before she feels she can make the journey back to Hallownest. And besides, it's the only place that offers free room and board right now... So long as she puts on a good show. Gytha, The Thorned Bulwark, is the knight that trained Devotion as a squire. She's brash, boisterous, and unafraid to speak her mind, even if it is directly against her King or Queen. Gytha and Devotion were very close, though Gytha retired from knighthood long before the infection swept Hallownest. I'm not quite sure what I'll be having her doing, but I do think she traveled to the lands beyond the kingdom. She would be the type to try some grand adventure, even if it would be her last. You can learn more about Devotion and Gytha here, in the app I made for an RP server :) (including a way too long backstory lmao)

Thimble!

Thimble is my Grimm Troupe OC, fitting in with @grollow's wonderful setting! Thimble is a skittish but good-hearted little butterfly from a kingdom in its death throes, and after said kingdom's total collapsed, he sailed for the Troupe on a whim in hopes that he could find a place among them. He certainly did, and more than a few friends to go along with!

Thimble starts out as general help, far too anxious for the limelight, but after watching Ashe's OC, Mist, perform aerial Cyr Wheel, he gets struck with an inspiration he's never quite experienced before. Thimble learns Cyr Wheel and eventually performs a couple nights a week in the troupe after years of practice with Mist, and encouragement from the other troupe members :)

Thimble is based on a long-tailed skipper butterfly, a frequent visitor to my backyard.

Kindlepitch the Pardoner

Oh... Him.

"Do you not feel it? the burning, seething hatred that seems to permeate this wretched nest? Wouldn't it be best to have that feeling be done away with entirely? So much pain, so much death -- let this era rest. Let us rest, laid down upon a bed of sins inconceivable. Only in Her merciful light shall we find ourselves absolved, at last granted release from the torment the False-King inflicted upon us!" — Kindlepitch

Kindlepitch is. He's a whole lot. Scorned by the moth tribe after he refused to forget the Radiance, and boy is he deep in the orange juice. Kindlepitch believes that Hallownest's downfall was the shunning of his good lady, and that it is only her light that can finally bring peace to the atrocities of this world.

You can read more about Kindlepitch here!

Amaashaa Phykiish

Amaashaa is my main Star Wars OC. Daughter of a senator and a senator later in her own right, this gal has had. Enough. I haven't played her recently so I don't have as much to say sob, but I do love her dearly. Amaashaa served as a field medic in the Clone Wars, and later a lead surgeon on the Ord Cestus Medical Station when an injury removed her from the field. Amaashaa's life can be defined by passion; enough to burn away injustice, but also herself. After the Clone Wars, she eventually went into politics alongside her father, and was often the cause of many a fight in the senate chambers.

A barely-failed assassination attempt is what finally drove Amaashaa away from the senate, at her father's behest. They planned to lay low and 'make quiet trouble' for the empire in the meantime. Amaashaa was placed upon an off-radar scrapper crew of the Spicer (created by @rabiezcore, if I draw her with other characters they are likely Rabiez') and has since learned that... Wow, she can actually exist as a living person and not just a vessel for service. There's a lot to unpack there, but she's had a lot of character development. Amaashaa does eventually rejoin the rebellion when it reforms, and serves as a medic among them for a while, before injury does finally force her into retirement for realsies. Then she gets to live out her dream of living with her mando definitely-not-boyfriend and having loth cats of her own at last.

Lullaby Heartstrings

Lullaby Heartstrings was my sheep-flavored Minotaur Barbarian for a D&D 5e Lost Mines of Phandelver campaign.

Towering over her party at a grand 7'2" tall and nearing 500lbs of wool and muscle, it's not surprise that Lullaby is an intimidating figure, even despite her coloring and innocent sounding name. This journeyman member of the Emerald Enclave is a frequent sight in Neverwinter and the various northern Moonwoods, most often called upon by pilgrims looking to traverse the Lurkwood or caravans in need of mercenary guards. Despite her affiliation with the enclave, Lullaby's relationship with nature is far more akin to respect between warriors than the reverence a druid may possess. She believes nature to be a cruel, unyielding mistress who cannot be tamed, but also takes her challenges with silent honor, knowing they make her stronger in the long run.

Lullaby is generally quiet, softspoken, and has been called 'grumpy' by those who take her as a guard, but she is not unkind. Those under her protection will often find her aiding in setting up their tents, ensuring everyone has a decent amount of food and water, and always taking the first shift of watch. Her preferred method of communication is through gestures and actions rather than words.

Lullaby was originally born into a circus troupe, the Heartwood Heartstrings, but an incident involving her debilitating stage fright ended with her running away from home as a young teen. She's been with the enclave ever since.

Lullaby's greataxe is made out of two Axebeak beaks; one that she hunted herself, and the other that a mentor killed.

(WIP below)

[autumnwoodsdreamer]

The Face of the Lost, Chapter IV

. . . . .

A sudden clatter and bang yanked Din’s focus up off Raza’s drawing.

Head whipping up, he watched in a state of mild shock (which had become all too familiar by this point) as Alya shoved the door dividing the kitchen and dining room open with her hip and came bustling in, a large, lidded pot leading the way.

Actually, the pot’s size in relation to her petite frame was quite comical, but the speed and intention charging her gait quenched any inclination to laugh or even smile—Din just made sure he got well out of her way. Dinar mirrored the action, his version more intuitive and fluid, an arm coming up to hold Jai a little closer as he backed away.

“Sup’s up!” she declared as she plonked the pot in the middle of the round table, voice so loud it bounced off the walls and down the hall, making the helmet’s receivers fuzz. Pulling back to straighten, she paused to put a hand on her young daughter’s back and all that voice shed right down to something calm and gentle as she bent her head and gave some instruction that was just for the girl to hear.

Raza gave a nod and a quiet “Yes, Mama,” then gathered her drawing implements and scampered off.

Unthinkingly, Din stepped to the side to let her bolt past; his centre of gravity didn’t get the chance to resettle before his elbow bumped something.

A surprised, but not loud, exclamation of “Oh!” had him revising the “something” to a “someone” as he spun on the spot, hands out to catch or steady or anything.

It was an older woman coming through from the kitchen, striped earthenware bowls stacked high in her arms, hiding her face. She stumbled a step back but didn’t lose her balance, righting herself before Din could offer any aid.

“Sorry about that,” she said, shifting her weight expertly to calm the teetering tower of bowls and allow her a better angle to peer around at him.

“No, it’s-it’s—” the apology snagged in Din’s throat as a vicious twist of his heart cut off his breath.

Hair—dark and silver, long and curling—pulled away and tied at the back, a few strands escaping, always escaping and falling around her face; a round face, a shape he shared with her more than his—

In a disjointed jumble, his brain came back online enough for him to push the thoughts back and register that he was still standing in her way.

Awkwardly, he moved aside, taking small, shuffling steps.

The older woman just smiled, as if this wall of man and metal hadn’t caused any obstruction at all. “Will you be joining us?” she asked as she set the stack of bowls on the table and began divvying them up.

… [continue reading on ao3]

[oldjane]

So the lovely Lina @laviejaguardia tagged me to post the first line of my WIPs.

Girl.

I counted them. I opened up the folder named WIPs, sorted out the TOG ones, and started counting.

Well.

Let’s just say I have a Problem.

How about I limit myself to, say, ten?

1. ARRANGED DIVORCE AU

“What do you mean, I have to divorce Nicolò?”

Joe is staring at his mother as if she just sprouted a second head – which, frankly, would be less shocking than the words he just heard her utter.

“It’s not like the two of you have a particularly passionate marriage,” the Queen says delicately. “Listen, Yusuf, I know this comes as a surprise, but with your brother renouncing on the throne, you will become King someday.”

“And I can’t be married to Nicolò for that?” Yusuf interjects, and his mother sighs deeply.

“It’s not precisely, ah, impossible,” she says carefully, as if the word leaves a bad taste in her mouth, “but your prospects have suddenly become a lot better.”

2. BALLET AU

It’s been one of those days.

It would be easier if it hadn’t been one of those days for the last ten years, but alas. Being brown and Muslim is still enough to be singled out in the extremely closed ballet community, even though Joe’s been part of it for 25 years now. It doesn’t help either that every bloody dancer, choreographer, director, seamstress, donor and critic feels the need to throw in a quip about Yusuf’s start through a charity summer camp for inner city kids in Rotterdam.

3. CAMBOY AU

Joe doesn’t have the money to sign in to another session with ItalianStallion, he doesn’t. Being an artist is his dream and his joy, but it doesn’t leave much disposable income in the budget for online porn.

But ItalianStallion is worth eating ramen for the next week.

The thumbnail for tonight shows him on all fours, and much as Joe loves it when he is on his back, his legs hooked over some bars out of the camera frame, showing his impressive cock as he jerks himself off or fucks himself with his large fingers, he loves the man’s ass even more. God, the idea of sinking his cock into that tight hole alone is enough to get him hard.

So he gets out his long-suffering credit card and logs on.

4. CHANGELING AU

“Think carefully,” the fae hisses, baring long, sharp, bloody fangs. “One of these cribs holds your precious, innocent baby. The other… does not.”

It laughs, ugly and cruelly. It sounds like nails being dragged over smooth stone, and it feels like a thousand sharp knives are dancing over Susanna’s spine. There’s a bright, unnatural light coming from the lantern, but even in this light she cannot see any difference between the cribs, between the babies reaching out a stubby hand towards her, gurgling softly. Even the blanket the child was wrapped in, the one her grandmother embroidered with her rheumatic fingers, has been magicked to look exactly the same, blue violets around the yellowing edges.

5. WIBBIT AU

Nicky has known since he was a toddler that his prospects in life were not great. His father and mother loved each other very much, and as such Nicolò was blessed with eleven older siblings.

His mother taught him, as soon as he would understand, that Bartolomeo, as the oldest, would inherit the family fortune, Giuseppe would be sent to university, and there was money set aside for Fabrizio to start on his way to knighthood as a squire. Flavio and Angelo might be able to be provided with the tools to start an apprenticeship with a tradesman, and Matteo would have to be satisfied with the cheapest option possible: a sword and a career in the military. Whatever was left, would of course need to go to the girls, as a dowry.

6. SOULMATE TOWER AU

Joe doesn’t really know how long he has been in here. It has been years, decades maybe – but why would he keep track of the time?

Every day is the same, and though he has a few small windows, bolted shut, showing him the passing of the seasons, it means little to nothing to him.

He will likely not ever leave these rooms. He has everything – a bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom with a huge tub, a desk, a studio, even a gym with a small pool. When he needed something – clothes, food, art supplies, a new computer – severely doctored to avoid contact with the outside world – it is brought to him within hours.  

7. KING+KNIGHT AU PT II

The oak doors close behind them.

On any other night, Yusuf would listen to the creak of them falling shut with a heavy heart, knowing Nicolò was on the other side of them – so close, and yet it might as well be the whole ocean between them, so vast the distance seemed.

But tonight, he is holding Nicolò’s hand in his, and Nicolò’s taste still lingers on his lips.

8. TAILOR AU

In the three years since Joe’s opened Cuppa, he never once stepped into the store next door.

It’s not that he has anything against it, really. It’s more that he doesn’t have much place in his life for a tailored three-piece suit. He likes to think he rocks his faded jeans and backwards cap just as well as any suit, and it’s more practical behind the counter of a coffee shop to boot. To be completely honest, Joe might be of the opinion nobody needs to drop hundreds of pounds on an outdated, boring fashion trend – but he wisely keeps it to himself as he steps through the tastefully decorated glass door.

A bell chimes delicately above his head, but nothing else happens. Joe stands around a bit awkwardly, looking at the racks of dull black jackets and trousers in front of him. He scoffs slightly. See, just wearisome, tedious, uninspiring clothes. No room for any personality or experimenting.

But he’s forced to reconsider when he ventures a bit further down.

9. EXES TO LOVERS AU

Joe’s only ever been dumped once.

He was nineteen, then, and his boyfriend was only sixteen, so it might have been for the best, but still, it still stings. He’d really imagined the two of them making it, ending up together, falling for each other over and over again. Nicolò had often called him an incurable romantic, back then, with his soft accent rounding the vowels. It was usually followed by a kiss, though, so Joe hadn’t minded too much. It wasn’t like it was untrue, anyway.

But Nicolò might not say it anymore, if he saw Joe now. Dating casually, never too long. No promises, no expectations. Always the one leaving, before things could get serious.

10. GAY AWAKENING FUCKBUDDIES AU

Joe barely makes it to the couch before collapsing. He doesn’t even kick off his shoes, shed his jacket – he is completely drained after his afternoon shift at the call center.

Nicky, his roommate, best friend, and Joe’s personal hero, is there instantly, steaming glass of mint tea with enough sugar to make the spoon stand up straight in his hand.

“That bad,” Nicky says, putting the tea on the coffee table and lifting Joe’s legs to sit down.

“Worse,” Joe groans, as Nicky takes of Joe’s shoes before he put his stockinged feet in his lap. “You are an angel.”

“I know,” Nicky says mildly. “You’re gonna have to sit up to drink your tea, though.”

Another dramatic groan.

“I’m not sure tea will help today.”

I should probably finish any of these (or the other 40+ in the folder) instead of this new series I’ve got in my head... Any preferences?