#solar do nothing machine is my new name

[shuadotcom]

Press Reset | HJS (M)

☆Pairing: A.I.!Joshua x Human Manager Afab!Reader (nicknamed Star)

☆Summary: J05HUΛ was created with a single purpose and that is to entertain his fans. It’s all he’s known as long as he’s existed. Somewhere along the way, the desire, the want, and the longing to leave Earth and be “normal” creeps into the pathways of his mind, as does a suppressed loathing of the humans who treat him as nothing more than a money-making machine. Except for you of course - the only human who seems to treat him as if he’s a regular being with thoughts and emotions. When he’s presented with the opportunity to finally escape and pursue what he’s been waiting for, he’s sure as hell going to take it and he’s going to make sure he takes you with him to start over and just be Joshua - not J05HUΛ of 53V3NT33N.

☆Genres & AUs: Angst, fluff, smut, sci-fi au

☆Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

☆Warnings: Profanity, a bit of violence, mention of blood, injuries, use of a gun

☆Smut warnings: Unprotected sex (he’s a robot it’s okay), fingering, oral (f.receiving), marking, creampie, and i thiiiink that's it

☆Words: 15.9k

☆Note: FINALLY SHE IS HERE! My fic for the Seventeen Sci-Fi collab! Huge, massive thanks to @wooahaeproductions for betaing this for me in a few hours. You're the best, Bee 🥺❤️

This fic and life has been beating my ass for months. This is my first sci-fi fic so I’ve been agonizing over getting the details of everything right, especially with this fantastic world that @idyllic-ghost created. Thank you for letting me be apart of this collab Bee! It was so fun! ❤️ (And thank you for this amazing banner too! I forgot it had my old url on it so I had to quickly edit that part!). Also thank you to @strawberryya for Lumen and building that wonderful part out in her fic so I could include it in mine! And @the-boy-meets-evil for letting me use her idea for Y/n's past. 💞💞

100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed. The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight. However, the aliens were welcoming of our planet. Those of us who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system.

Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister-planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automaton, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t.

Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be.

At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities. The Automaton music group 53V3NT33N (SEVENTEEN) is made up of 13 members, all very talented, and all representing two human states of mind.

Smile. Wave. Send them a finger heart. Flash a peace sign. Sing. Dance. Bow. Pose.

Day in and day out, it’s the same and it has been since J05HUΛ first opened his eyes. He does the same thing all the time. Perform on stage, do an interview, do a photoshoot, go to an award show. 

Charge up and do it all over again.

Except for the time spent with the rest of the 53V3NT33N group members, that’s been his everyday life since his creation. He’s such a gentleman to his fans, always smiling, singing sweetly, and playfully engaging with them. He’s supposed to be okay with it and accept that this is his life - the only things he was created to do.

But he’s not. At some point, the wiring and the literal tiny gears in his head began telling him that this can’t be it. More and more, until it’s all he thinks about. There has to be some other way to exist. 

His longing to know what else is out there for him runs deep in his circuitry. He has a lot of time to himself to think when he’s not on stage, when he and the rest of his members are charging after all the work they do in a day.

He thinks about what it’d be like to be able to go where he wants, do what he wants, and see what he wants whenever he wants to. J05HUΛ thinks maybe he’d like to travel to other planets - he’s overheard other automatons and humans talk about a relaxing planet named Aecor and he might like to go there one day.

Maybe in a different universe, he’s a human. Maybe he and the other members of the group are all regular people. Maybe they still sing and dance but they actually enjoy it all the time. Or maybe he’s just a human guy living a human life somewhere. Maybe he even has a partner. J05HUΛ may not have ever had the opportunity to be with someone romantically, but he’s still heard and seen enough media that he knows what romance is and decides he would like that.

To be more specific, he’d like that with you.

“So you’d like him at the studio at the end of the week?” you ask the music producer over the video call, the man nodding and giving you a few more details. J05HUΛ should be listening to the man, and he is, but now and again he also lets his gaze linger your way. 

You’re always so serious when you’re in meetings or talking to higher-ups. You know what to say to be professional and no-nonsense and J05HUΛ likes that about you.

Just as much as he longs for a different existence, he can’t help but loathe most humans he comes in contact with. They only ever see him as a robot or a machine and not a sentient being with thoughts and feelings. He despises that they get to do all the things he can’t while still looking down on him and treating him like less. It made being around humans too much sometimes.

But not you. You treat him with kindness and empathy whenever you can. You do your best to have casual, non-work chats with him, so he has gotten to know you as more than just his manager. J05HUΛ isn’t sure if you would call him a friend, but when you talk to him, there are rarely ever any walls you put up with him, which only makes him care about you more than any other human. You’re someone he always wants to be around and admittedly, who he longs to be with in much more than a professional way

Being a manager for the Galaxy’s most popular automaton group was never what you wanted to be when you grew up. You entertained being a doctor, scientist, maybe even a CEO of some fictional fancy company. You even had one thing that you really thought you’d do one day.

But then, you ended up here.

Your old friend from school had worked at this company, and when she decided to resign to travel the galaxy a few years ago, she referred you as her replacement and now you spend nearly every day at this company with these people.

Not that you’re complaining (well you are, but not all of the time). The pay is good and you don’t have any problems with any of your co-workers, but it’s not your dream job. Then again, you don’t think you have a dream job. It’s whatever pays the bills at this point.

At least 53V3NT33N is a good group of automatons. Of course, they were programmed to be so, but they’re still alive in a way. And at least the automaton you spend the majority of your time with isn’t too much of a handful.

J05HUΛ is the most interesting automaton you’ve ever gotten to know.

He’s also so polite and proper with everyone else in the company, with fans, and when you’re out on schedules with him. He’s a perfect idol automaton. Sometimes though, when it’s just the two of you, he lets his brilliant smile fall a little more and his words aren’t so perfect and practiced. Not too much, since he always remembers that he can be listened to whenever your boss’ feel like it.

He tends to act differently towards you in the physical sense. Eyes staying on you for too long, hands colliding with yours if you both reach for something, bodies brushing if you walk too close by accident (or sometimes on purpose). J05HUΛ seems to even relax when you’re together, especially when leaving a work schedule or meeting. 

Sometimes, your feelings about him do seem to border on more than what they should be as his manager, but that doesn’t matter. You can’t act on your feelings even if you want to - which you do, but you won’t, of course. Other than the fact that getting into a relationship with him being extremely unprofessional, your company would never allow it. Great pay and great clients aside, it would never be allowed. The CEO would have your head if you ever let it slip that sometimes you think about doing things with J05HUΛ that are undeniably not safe for work, so it’s something you push deep down to go about your day-to-day as normal as possible.

“Great, thanks Y/Nn. See you then.”

“Bye.” As soon as you end the video call you let out a heavy sigh, sinking into your chair a little.

“Everything okay?” J05HUΛ asks, cocking his head to the side as he studies you.

“I just hate last-minute meetings for last-minute things. He wants you at the studio for this OST in a few days but we can’t say no. It’s for that new drama and I already know I’d get chewed out if I say no. That means I’ll have to see if I can move your photoshoot you had scheduled for that worldwide magazine to the day after maybe.” You heave another sigh, rubbing your temples in irritation. Moments like these succeed in making your job that much more unpleasant at times.

You’re swiping on J05HUΛ’s calendar on your tablet when he reaches over, placing a hand over yours. The contact makes you flinch, but you don’t move your hand. When you look over at him he smiles at you.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You always do.” Your skin warms at his compliment coupled with his cutest grin and you have to tell yourself to get a grip, like you do anytime he gets you like this.

“Thanks, Joshua.” The automaton’s smile only grows wider when you call him his preferred name. While the two of you don’t often dive into his feelings about his existence or his job, he had mentioned to you once that he would like it if that was his name and what people called him. It was something he had mentioned only to you once when you were trying to name a cute stray cat you had seen once on the way to one of his schedules. Since then, when it was just the two of you, you called him Joshua now and again and every time he seemed to be grateful for it.

You let him hold his hand over yours for a few more seconds, before lightly pulling away, mentioning that it was about time for you to head home and that he should probably go back to his dorm. His face falls, just a little, but he agrees, both of you get up and head into the hallway.

You both linger for a moment, a usual occurrence for both of you, but you say goodbye first in an effort to snap yourself out of whatever your brain is trying to get you to feel. “Have a good night, Joshua.”

“See you tomorrow, Star.”

Your skin heats up again as he calls you by your nickname. You had told him once that your parents used to call you Star and he immediately brought the tradition back, even having others in the company start to call you it too. He’s the only one that makes you feel this warm inside when he says it though.

Forcing yourself to turn away, you fast walk down the hall to the bathroom to make a pit stop before heading out to go home.

While you pee and wash your hands, all you can think about is how foolish developing any feelings towards your subordinate is and how much you can not act on any of that. You want to keep your job and continue paying your bills, so you need to stay focused. Come to work, be his manager and only his manager, support J05HUΛ, and go home then do it all over again and that’s it.

As you’re giving yourself a pep talk in the mirror, the shrill sound of the emergency alarm blares in the bathroom, making you nearly leap into the air. It takes you a moment to orient yourself after the disturbance and with hands over your ears you run into the hallway. In the distance, you can hear voices and footsteps, but your only thought at that moment is to get to J05HUΛ. You don’t know what’s going on but you feel like you need to figure it out together.

J05HUΛ barely makes it to the elevator when the alarm sounds. It started echoing through the hallway only a few minutes after he heard 5.C0UP5 over his communication device.

“Run!”

He isn’t sure why he gave that message or where he’s at, but J05HUΛ knows it’s for him and the rest of 53V3NT33N and he knows it was a message to get out. So he does just as 5.C0UP5 says.

The automaton runs as fast as his legs will carry him, going back down the hallway he just came, doing his best to hide when he sees guards or staff also scrambling in the hall. He needs to find you. He can’t leave you behind. He wants out of this “life” - if that’s even what he could call this - but not without you.

J05HUΛ doesn’t find you in the meeting room you both just left so he runs in the direction of another set of elevators that he knows lead downstairs to the lobby. He desperately hopes you haven’t gone downstairs just yet and keeps his fingers crossed that you’re still somewhere on this floor.

He peeks his head into every room he passes, hoping to see even a glimpse of you. His time is running out with each empty room or head he passes that isn’t you and J05HUΛ is getting more and more desperate as he goes. If he goes down to the lobby there’s a chance he’ll get caught and have to stay which terrifies him because this could very well be his only chance out.

What he can only think to describe as dread starts to fill him until he finally sees you. 

Well, he more than sees you as you careen into him when you both round a corner at the same time. 

“Oh my god, Joshua, I was looking everywhere for you! What’s going on?” You’re out of breath, panic clear in your eyes. The fact that you were looking for him too doesn’t go unnoticed by him and it would make him smile if you weren’t in such a dire situation. “Do you know where the rest of the group is?”

“I think they’re all leaving so we have to go too!” He grabs your hand before you have a moment to ask him to explain and starts sprinting down the hall opposite of you.

“Shouldn’t we find the others?!”

“There’s no time, Y/n!”

“But what if -” J05HUΛ halts his movements, making you run into his back.

He spins on his heels, both of his hands holding yours. “Do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” you answer without hesitation and with nothing but certainty. He means so much to you. More than he probably should, but he does. 

He opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can, a voice calls to you both from down the hallway. 

“Hey, you two!”

A security guard is running towards you, hand on his gun.

“Let’s go!” J05HUΛ takes off again with you trailing behind, hands clasped as you do your best to keep up with him.

“Stop! Don’t make me shoot!”

The hallways seem to wind forever as you sprint, keeping both eyes open for any other guards while doing your best to head for an exit.

“If we can get downstairs we can try and go out the back, maybe out of a window or something! I’m sure they’ve already got guards near the front.” J05HUΛ nods, acknowledging your words, and takes the next left turn. Just as you round the corner, a gunshot sounds throughout the hallway, whizzing past your head. You let out a yelp, both you and J05HUΛ ducking low.

“We have to lose him first!” J05HUΛ glances behind you both, the guard raising his gun once more.

To do just that, the two of you take the next few turns, hoping that the guard will fall behind, but he doesn’t, and instead fires two more shots. One of them narrowly misses you, but one of them ends up hitting J05HUΛ in the arm.

He stumbles, yelling as he trips over his feet and you do the same. The lag is enough for the security guard to catch up to you both, gun raised.

“Hands up!” With a glance at J05HUΛ, you both do as instructed. Your eyes dart to his injured arm, the bullet having gone straight through, the sight of the hole settling a queasy feeling deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Both of you are coming with me.” The guard keeps his gun aimed at J05HUΛ and he gets closer, his other hand reaching for the cuffs on his belt loop. 

J05HUΛ frowns at him, a look of defeat evident on his face. It practically breaks your heart to see how deflated he is. Even though the two of you had never had a discussion about his future or his feelings about his job, seeing how badly he wanted to leave just now made his goal to escape from all of this extremely evident to you.

“Come on you stupid robot,” the guard grumbles, harshly yanking his injured arm.

“Stop being so rough with him!” you blurt, fixing the guard with your most intimidating look. The man scoffs at you, pointing the gun in your direction.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re in deep shit too.”

“Don’t talk to Y/n like that!” J05HUΛ warns, earning a smack from the guard. He draws his gun again, putting it to his head.

“I don’t wanna hear another word from you, machine, or I’ll blow your pretty face off and let the mechanics put you back together.”

Something in you snaps then, watching the way this man treats J05HUΛ horrendously right in front of you has you seeing red. Before you can think twice, your hands are grabbing the fire extinguisher a few inches away from you, raising it above your head, and swinging with all your might. 

A sickening ‘crack’ rings out through the hallway as the extinguisher meets the side of the guard's head and his grey cap flies off of his head, landing on the floor near your feet. Rage fuels you and you follow that blow with two more, a small smattering of blood exploding onto your hands, the man crumpling immediately to the hard floor. 

You intend on hitting him once more, but J05HUΛ stops you with a firm hand on your shoulder. You don’t exchange words, only speaking with your eyes and it’s enough to make you lower the make-shift weapon. 

J05HUΛ tilts his head in the direction you need to keep going, but before you do, an idea sparks in your brain. 

Doing your best not to look too much at the gore of the guard’s face, you drag him into a nearby room you know is a bathroom, grabbing his hat in the process. J05HUΛ attempts to help with his good arm and is still stronger than you in getting him the room.

Once you’re in, you lock the door and start to undress the motionless guard to get his grey uniform overalls and jacket off. You toss the clothes to J05HUΛ and he immediately puts the clothes on over what he’s currently wearing. They’re smattered with blood, but at least it’ll be better than him running around in his fancy clothes. The jacket covers his wound but the diamond-shaped communication device embedded in the middle of his collarbone is on full display under his button-down. Fuck, you’d almost forgotten about it.

“Joshua, we have to get that off of you!” He looks down at the device, realization sparking in him.

“You’re right, how?”

“I don’t know. They never told us they can come off or anything.” The option to go back into the hallway to find something to remove it with is off the table, the risk of getting caught is too high. You don’t know of an electronic way of dismantling it, plus you’re worried that doing something technical could hurt all of J05HUΛ’s circuitry.

The weight of the fire extinguisher in your hands is suddenly obvious and you raise it, frowning at it. He notices and audibly gulps.

“Do it,” he says with little hesitation, unbuttoning his shirt more to make the whole device visible. 

“But, won’t it hurt? I don’t wanna miss and -”

“We don’t have any options.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know, but we have to. I trust you, Star.”

Gnawing at your lip, your nerves almost getting the better of you, you finally relent, the blaring alarm still sounding a loud reminder that you don’t have time to waste. J05HUΛ leans against the wall, standing up straight, and bracing himself.

“I don’t think this will remove it altogether, but if we can at least crack it to break it we can worry about full removal later.”

He nods, closing his eyes in anticipation.

Raising the fire extinguisher above your head you get ready. “Okay…one….two…three!” You count, hyping yourself up mentally with each number until you get to three and swing it down. It makes contact with the device, J05HUΛ stumbling back and yelping in pain. Nothing happens to the device, only a small scratch is seen on the surface.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry!”

“Again, Y/n.” His voice is strained but he stands upright again.

A frown etches its way on your face, and you take a deep, shaky breath, wanting so badly not to.

“Onetwothree!” You rush, swinging again. The device cracks this time but is still lit up. 

J05HUΛ has to brace himself each time, and the pain is almost too much for him to handle, but he reminds himself that he needs this gone. He wants to tell you to keep going, even if the pain makes him pass out but he doesn’t want to upset you even more. When his eyes flutter open, he can see the tears brimming yours as you struggle with yourself to keep going.

It takes two more swings with all of your might before the device cracks enough that a few pieces shatter to the ground as the light on it finally dims. With each swing, J05HUΛ keeps his teeth gritted tightly, pained grunts slipping out each time that makes your chest hurt for him.

“Alright, let’s go.” You help him get the jacket zipped up to his neck and he sways a little against the wall as you grab the guard’s cap from the floor and place it on his head, tucking his hair under it.

Peeking out of the bathroom you check for signs of anyone in the hall. When you see no one is around, you place your hand back in his, the two of you sprinting down the hall. You keep the extinguisher in hand as you go, just in case you need it again.

The two of you make it down the flights of stairs to the ground floor. You hear commotion closer to the front hallways so you both go the opposite way, towards the back of the building to find a way out. One hall you turn down is made up mostly of meeting rooms and a lot of them are windowless except for one you find at the very end. When you peek out of the window you don’t see signs of anyone, only the security gate across the yard.

“This is our best bet. We just have to keep moving until we get through the gate. Then we can take the train to my place and regroup from there.” J05HUΛ nods and helps you unlock and slide open the window. He gives you a boost since the window is a little high, but once you have the leverage you’re tumbling over the side, landing on the ground on your butt.

“Are you okay?!” J05HUΛ asks in a panic as he makes it up and out of the window.

“Fine, just clumsy.”

“As always,” he manages to huff out a laugh that you return. You get serious again and hand in hand, you both stalk across the yard toward the front, keeping yourselves low and glued to the wall. You make it around the building, across the yard, and through the gate without incident. You’re more than lucky that the guards who usually stay stationed at the exit and entrance are gone so you’re able to speed out undetected. 

You and J05HUΛ fast-walk down the sidewalk, to one of the train stops that will take you to your condo. You don’t live far from the building by train, but it’s too far to walk. Luck strikes again when the train car you get into, towards the back, is empty save for a man in business attire who’s asleep. You’re both silent during the ride, keeping your heads down and once the train arrives at the station near your place you lead him off and straight to your building.

“Hang on.” You stop at the side of the entrance door to check for your building’s security. The last thing you need is anyone asking questions about why you’re returning home with a guard that has visible blood on his uniform. 

The security guard is behind the desk in the lobby, asleep with his hat over his face. You don’t want to wait for him to decide he has to get up, so you both creep into the lobby doors, holding your breaths as you tiptoe through and around the corner to the elevator.

With shaky hands, you input your code to unlock the front door and the two of you rush inside, still paranoid. It’s not until the door is locked do you finally let out the breath you feel you’ve been holding since the night began, shoulders sagging as you slide to the foyer floor.

J05HUΛ plops next to you, wincing and doubling over, hand hovering over his chest. You had almost forgotten about his chest, helping him ease the guard jacket off and undoing the tops of the overalls. You inspect the cracked device underneath his shirt and he grimaces as he touches it, hand flinching away. The pain hadn’t lessened much, but he tried not to dwell on it.

“What just happened?” you speak first, your voice seems too loud in your apartment.

“We left. I’m out.”

“What now?”

“I don’t know.” And neither do you. Everything happened so quickly that you could barely register the last handful of minutes.

“What even brought this on? I don’t even know how things dissolved into chaos. We just finished that meeting and I went to the bathroom, then the alarm started going off and I just - I didn’t know who else to look for.”

J05HUΛ smiles at you in the tiniest of ways at your words. “So you came to look for me?”

You return the gesture, exhausted but still genuine. “Yeah.” J05HUΛ keeps smiling before it slips and his expression is suddenly serious again. 

“5.C0UP5 - Seungcheol. He told us all to run.”

“He what?”

“He didn’t address us - the group - but I know the message was for us. And I knew what it meant. A few of the other members, I saw them running in the halls as I was looking for you and I know they were trying to get out too. We’ve never talked about it, since you know, we’re always being listened to,” he gestures to his now broken communicator. “But I’m pretty sure they wanted out too. I can only hope that they also escaped.” Worry flashes across J05HUΛ’s face, no doubt thoughts of his group mates flickering through his mind. 

Swiping a hand over your face, you do your best to stay calm. 

“Okay. So, we definitely have to leave Earth. You’re never going to be able to live how you want here. They’ll come looking for you.”

“Where do we go?”

“I don’t know. But the first thing we need to do is get your wounds looked at.” 

“Do you know someone who can help?”

“I think so, let’s get some supplies and go. I’m sure they’re going to come looking here eventually.”

Joshua has seen this man before. His tall height is hard to miss when he would be moving about the facility, shadowing other mechanics who would sometimes help him and the other members of 53V3NT33N. He’s only been working at the facility for a year, but he’s always around, especially if you’re in the room. He stays glued to your side, joking with you, helping you carry things, only ever asking you questions. Joshua always notices.

After you gathered up a backpack of what you classified as supplies, changed your clothes, and let Joshua charge a little with a charger you kept around for him, you left. After sneaking past your building security for the second time, the two of you got on another train to go a few blocks to another apartment building. When you reach the door you’re looking for, the man looks shocked to see you both, eyes darting up and down the hallway.

“Y/n?”

“Hey, Mingi. I need your help.”

You push past him into the apartment, Joshua trailing behind.

“Is…everything okay?” He looks between you and Joshua, clearly unsure what to do next.

“Mingi, I really need you to help me out here. He - he was shot. And we’re trying to get his communication device out, but I can’t, I just broke it. And we need a place to sleep if possible. I know showing up here and asking you this is a lot, but I would just really, really appreciate it if you could help me out here. Please?” Mingi blinks at you as you ramble, wide-eyed. He steals a few glances at Joshua who’s next to you, leaning against the wall. Both of his wounds are starting to take a toll on him, his body still feeling heavy and in need of repair and a longer charge.

“You want me to repair J05HUΛ and remove his tracker? Did - did you get clearance for this? Is this coming from the CEO?”

“No. It’s not.”

He looks at you again, sighing. “I don’t know, this doesn’t sound good. Maybe I should call -”

“Mingi, please?” You surge forward, grabbing his hands between your own. “Please, I’m begging you, please do this. For me?” Joshua feels a frown form on his face at the contact, staying silent as he watches Mingi stare down at you and your joined hands. Joshua’s no expert at human relationships, but the way that Mingi looks at you makes it clear he has romantic feelings for you and Joshua doesn’t like it. 

It feels like minutes tick by before the man agrees, saying he’ll do what he can.

Mingi leads the two of you to a room in his apartment that’s full of parts and tools. He mentions that he uses his spare bedroom as a workshop and gestures to the table in the middle of the room. Joshua takes his place on the table, watching as Mingi moves around another table littered with tools. There’s a chair pushed to the side of the room that you sit in, furiously typing on your phone.

Joshua wants to ask you what you’re doing, but he doesn’t get a chance to because Mingi is hovering over him with a sharp tool in his hand.

“Truth be told, I’m not sure how to properly remove this - they didn’t go over any of that with the junior mechanics, so I’ll have to just take it out with what I have. I think that means this is going to hurt…like a lot maybe.” Mingi apologizes, but something in Joshua’s mind tells him that he isn’t that sorry.

The first incision around the tracker that Mingi makes has Joshua unable to hold back a scream and you’re on your feet immediately, rushing over to him. Mingi only glances up momentarily, before cutting again, around the top outline of the tracker. Joshua tries his damnedest not to yell again, but can’t control it. The short-haired mechanic stops and turns to his desk of tools to grab what looks like a rag, handing it to Joshua.

“I know it hurts, but I have neighbors, so maybe bite this?” You take the cloth from Mingi and carefully put it into Joshua’s open mouth and he can’t help but notice the way your fingers graze his chin once he bites down and you move away.

The pain starts again and Joshua’s muffled yells fill the room. The pain is too much - more than anything he’s ever felt. The thumps from the fire extinguisher were one thing, but the sensation of a sharp object piercing him is too much for him to take. He’s grateful to feel your hand grasping his, but it feels brief, as his vision goes dark and he passes out.

When Joshua’s eyes open, the room is bathed in the faintest of warm light and he momentarily forgets where he is, blinking to get a better view of his surroundings. He moves to sit up, eyes scanning the room, seeing it’s dark still outside of the blinds. His gaze shifts down and he sees you lying on the floor wrapped in a blanket. He realizes he’s on a couch, charging as he was out. The memory of his “surgery” comes back, his hand reaching up to touch the space between his collarbones where his tracker has always been. It’s gone though, only a bandage wrapped around him. His arm that was shot is also wrapped up and he assumes Mingi patched that hole up. Both are still sore but not nearly as painful anymore.

He sits up which makes you stir and soon you’re upright too.

“Hey,” you whisper in the dark. “How are you feeling?”

“Better honestly. How long was I out?”

“A few hours. Mingi helped me bring you to the couch when he was done and I started charging you. You need your strength, especially after that.”

“You don’t need to sleep on the floor. I could’ve.”

“Joshua, you passed out. I wasn’t going to have you on the floor. And it’s fine. I was pretty tired so I fell right asleep.” You offer up a tired smile and Joshua thinks you look amazing, even given what’s going on.

“So, what’s going to happen now?”

“Well, Mingi let us crash for the night but we have to head out soon. We need to get to the spaceport so we can get off of Earth. I have a friend who I reached out to while you were resting. He offered to help us figure things out if we can get to him.”

“Where is he?”

“Salax.”

“Oh, where is -” A sudden rush of footsteps in the hallway outside of Mingi’s door has you both jolting, heads whipping towards the sound.

You jump up immediately, on edge. When you hear loud voices identifying themselves and saying they’re looking for automaton J0SHUA you know it’s time to go. Joshua’s already up and rushing to a window in Mingi's dining room, while you scoop up your backpack that has been on the floor next to you. 

Joshua throws the window open as Mingi comes into the room, saying your name. You turn to face him, guilt clear on his features.

“Did you call them?”

“Y/n, come on, this is crazy. I heard about what happened.”

“I can’t believe you fucking called them!” You’re fuming, stomping over to Mingi, ignoring that you have to look up to yell at him.

“I didn’t want to lose my job! If they find out about any of this I’m fucked! And it’s not too late for you. Just tell them he forced you to get him out or something.”

“But he didn’t. We left together!” 

“Are you really going to go on the run with a robot?! Give up your job and life and possibly get sent off to prison for a machine?!”

The urge to smack him is overwhelming, but you hold back, sneering at him instead. 

“It sounds a lot better than staying here with people I can’t trust. That “machine” has been much nicer to me than most humans I know.” 

“Oh come on, Y/n.”

“Go to hell, Mingi.” That’s the last thing you say before joining Joshua at the window, following him out onto the fire escape.

In the distance, you hear voices enter Mingi’s apartment, but the two of you don’t turn around, rushing down all three floors and jumping to the ground.

“Where now?!” Joshua whispers, the alley you end up in is dark with barely any light but it keeps you hidden.

“We need to get to the spaceport and get off of Earth.”

“And how far away is that?”

“We’ve gotta get to a train stop. It shouldn’t take too long. We just need to get on and keep moving. I have a way off the planet.”

You and Joshua stay as low to the ground as you can, keeping your bodies pressed flat against the side of the building, and take the alley in the opposite direction of where the front door is to Mingi’s building.

There’s a small street behind the building and the only signs of life you see are a few stray creatures. The two of you, as quickly and quietly as possible, go a few blocks away to a stop that isn’t so close to where they’re immediately looking. The whole time you can hear the loud, booming voices of everyone who’s looking for you and Joshua receding the further away you get.

Your heart is beating so loudly that it’s all you hear as you make your way into the shadows and finally rush to a stop and board the train. You don’t relax until you and Joshua make it to your seats but even still you can’t help but look over your shoulder and scan the rest of the passengers in the car afraid you’ll see the face of someone who will snatch both you and Joshua up and bring you back to face the consequences of your escape.

When you and Joshua reach the spaceport, you keep your eyes open and alert both for any guards that may have the idea that this is your next stop. The two of you do your best to blend into the crowd of people that walk by, attempting to look like any other normal people. There are plenty of commuter and private ships arriving and departing all the time, but there’s also a part of the spaceport that has spaces that can be rented to park your own ships. 

In one spot, there's a ship parked, one that you haven’t touched in what feels like years - in reality, it’s only been about half a year.

“You have a ship?” Joshua asks when you finally reach the spot and subsequently, your small ship that has been parked dormant and untouched. He’s genuinely surprised - he doesn’t remember you talking about flying or knowing how to.

“Yeah, I used to want to be a pilot. I did a bunch of training and did a lot of test flying, but it didn’t work out in the end. Luckily I was serious enough that I bought this cheap little ship to practice. I don’t fly it much anymore given my job.” You’re out of breath as you talk, nerves on high alert to leave as you inspect your ship once the two of you are inside.

Aside from the dust that’s collected, everything seems to be in good condition. After powering on the engine, you notice your gas gauge isn’t as full as you’d like.

“Maybe I should grab gas before we head out.” Salax will take time to get to and you think you have enough but it could be cutting it close. You mention this to Joshua who steps out of the ship with you, prepared to head to a fueling station to buy a container of gas.

You don’t have a chance to do this when you hear shouting in the distance that sounds like both your name and Joshua’s automaton identification. When you look to your right, you see a handful of uniformed guards, running towards the two of you with weapons raised.

“Fuck never mind, we’ll have to chance it!” You grip Joshua’s hand and rush back into the ship. Once you stumble back aboard, you immediately rush to the cockpit and survey all of the controls until you find the one you need to close the door and start the engine.

As soon as you get the engine to start, you immediately begin to lift off, and you hear bullets hit the metal of the ship, but nothing seems to set off any of the emergency alarms. Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see the guards through the window, running toward the spaceship and waving their arms and weapons in the air. You ignore it as you take off, going up, up, up until you’re in the air, and heading out into the expanse of the sky, as streaks of orange appear in front of you with the impending sunrise.

You thank past you for leaving travel food and water rations behind on your ship after your last trip. It’s barely enough to get you through, you think, but it’ll do. There’s plenty of electricity for Joshua at least so he stays charged and well-rested on your journey. Your autopilot takes charge, keeping your ship coasting through the stars and on course for Salax.

As the days morph into weeks you lose track of time. All you can do is sleep, talk, or gaze into the expanse of space. The time allows you to learn more about Joshua beyond what you already know. Knowing he’s always wanted to get out and live a normal life makes you feel sad for some reason. 

At least you’ve always had a choice. For Joshua, the whole reason he was even created was to be someone else’s to order around and do what they say. He’s never gotten a chance to do anything else.

“I’ve just always wanted to be a regular person. I see humans walking around wherever they want, doing whatever they want, whenever they want. I wanted it so bad I started hating humans, loathing even. Why can’t I have that, you know? Why was I made like this?” Joshua keeps his face turned away, eyes fixed on the sky outside. “I care about the rest of my members, but if I had a choice, I don’t think I’d choose this life. I’ve always just wanted to, I don’t know, push a button and have a do-over. Maybe start from my creation and be born and experience a normal, actual life and have human experiences.”

One of his hands rests in his lap, the other under his chin. You’re both sitting on a padded bench in front of one of the small windows, legs folded as you stare out into the dark. Slowly, you inch your hand closer, resting it on the one in his lap. The gesture startles him a little, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he turns his hand over to cup yours.

“You may not be able to start over in time, but this is still a way of starting over and starting a new life. You can at least do what you want now, for the most part.”

His smile falters a little as he thinks. “Do you think they’re still looking for us though? Will they come looking on Salax?”

“I’m not sure. We’re only stopping to meet with a friend of mine. He has a place we can stay for a night or so just to give us a chance to breathe since we’re off Earth. Plus, we’ll need to refuel when we get there since I couldn’t fill the tank before we had to leave.”

Joshua hums, more words on his mind. “Even if they come to find us, I won’t let them take us back. I want to start over and I won’t give up.” 

He squeezes your hand and you return the gesture. “And I won’t either. Truthfully, I didn’t have much going on back on Earth except my job and I mean, you were my job anyway, so I can’t be missing much.”

Joshua doesn’t say anything else, he just nods. He looks like he has more words, maybe ask you something else, but he doesn’t, both of you going back to studying the stars, hands still locked.

“Can I ask you about your family?” Joshua questions you one day. He had heard you mention earlier that you were getting closer to Salax and that you were maybe a day away from arrival. 

While soaring through space has been uneventful in terms of much of anything happening, it’s given Joshua a chance to finally, for once in his existence, relax. He hasn’t had to worry about rushing to schedules or singing and dancing. He’s been able to do nothing except sit, talk to you, and not have to worry about much else. It’s a much-needed break for him that he appreciates, even given the circumstances.

You’ve talked about how you didn’t love your job as a manager, but he made the job more enjoyable, and how being a pilot was the only thing you ever pursued, but that was another thing you didn’t love, even after all the work you put into getting a license and training. 

So you had settled on this job when your friend, a former manager who worked with the group, decided to quit. You don’t have a roommate or any real friends other than a few acquaintances, but you’ve been skirting around talking about any parents or siblings and he’s curious. He doesn’t have any of that so he just wants to know.

The question makes you bristle and for a second, he wonders if he should take his question back and tell you to forget he asked, but after a moment you answer.

“They died. My mom was a pilot too and she got caught in a meteor shower and died when I was a teenager. Her ship took too many hits and she was close enough to Earth that she crashed on the other side of the planet. Then, my dad got sick a few years ago before I started working at the company and he passed.” Your hands fiddle with some peeling plastic on the control panel, not looking at Joshua.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“No, it’s okay. The question was bound to come up eventually. I’m not close with anyone else in my family - we all just grew apart over the years. It happens.” You shrug your shoulders, the air in the cockpit feeling heavier than it did before. Joshua approaches you, hesitant hands reaching out unsure where to touch to console you. 

He feels nervous and second-guesses whether or not he should make contact, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but the slump of your shoulders tells him that you need comfort. So he reaches for you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you close to his chest. You stiffen, but only for a moment, before going lax in his hold.

Joshua keeps you in his arms, neither of you saying anything or making any move to separate. You stay like that until you start to yawn, tiredness finally hitting. He walks with you back to the room with the two cots you’ve both been sleeping in, tucking you in. Joshua moves to back away and go to the other cot, to rest himself, but you grab his arm, not letting him go.

“You can sleep over here with me tonight. If you want.” Your voice is small and even if he wanted to say no, which of course he doesn’t, he couldn’t anyway. So, Joshua climbs into the cot with you, letting you bury your face into his chest as he holds you.

You lay in silence for a few seconds before he speaks, “I’m your family now. And I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.” To him, it feels like the right thing to say and it’s the truth. Joshua has had his feelings for you growing over time and now that he's gotten this time with just the two of you, you are the most important person to him in the galaxy. He can’t imagine doing any of this without you ever again.

It’s quiet again before you sniffle, clinging closer to him, your fingers twisting in the fabric.

“Thank you, Joshua.”

“Of course.”

You fall asleep then, the gentlest of snores leaving you. He decides he’ll rest here and worry about charging when you wake up. He’s got enough juice not to shut down and he doesn’t want to risk waking you and having this moment stop for him.

Salax is as busy as you remember from the one time you’ve been. When you finally land a few days later, the spaceport is full of people departing from their ships. You see Hoseok almost immediately though, his wide smile and flailing arms unmistakable. 

When you reach him, he pulls you into a hug, talking in your ear about how much he’s missed you.

“I missed you too, Hobi,” you laugh, using his old nickname.

He pulls back, lightly squeezing your shoulder before his eyes shift over to Joshua. 

“And this is the friend you said you were bringing, right?”

“Yeah. This is Joshua.”

Joshua keeps his head low and bows to Hoseok who pulls him into a hug instead. “Nice to meet you! If Y/n likes you then I do too!” Joshua looks caught off guard but offers a hesitant smile in return.

Hoseok quickly ushers you both to follow him to his small home near the spaceport. Hoseok does ship repair on Salax, so he stays nearby which makes arriving and subsequently leaving easier. You don’t think anyone on Salax would turn Joshua in or tell that he’s here, seeing how so many people visit Salax for anonymity, but you don’t want to take any chances.

His house is small and simple: a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. He points you to the room you and Joshua will share including the bed you’ll both sleep in. The two of you had been resting on the two separate cots on your ship, except for the night he held you until you fell asleep, so this’ll be the first time you’ll be in the same bed since then.

You ignore that fact to focus on Hoseok telling you where everything is, adding that you can stay as long as you need.

“We appreciate it, but we need to be somewhere where we don’t have a chance of being recognized, so we won’t stay too long.” Joshua nods at your words, looking a little more relaxed now that you’re inside, away from anyone who could notice him.

The mechanic turns to look at you both, hands on his hips as he studies you. 

“Okay, well now that we’re inside, you wanna tell me why you suddenly sent me a message practically begging me to let you crash here due to an emergency?”

Now that you’re on Salax and in the same room, you feel more comfortable telling Hoseok the truth. He makes you a hot meal as you talk, telling him about the escape and everything that happened between then and now. Hoseok listens the whole time, joining you with a plate of his own as you tell him that now you just need to find somewhere that’s safe and not likely to get caught. Somewhere you two can just live freely.

“Oh! Have you thought about Lumen?” Hoseok asks after you finish talking, his mouth full of noodles.

“Lumen?” The name sounds vaguely familiar, but you can’t place it.

“It’s supposed to be the safest planet in the galaxy. I’ve heard people mention it in my travels, and a friend of mine told me a little more about it, but I’ve never been. You have to travel as far North from our solar system as you possibly can. It’s beside Galaxy 428B.”

“Are there people there? Is it super populated?”

“Yeah, there’s people of some kind there. And I’ve known quite a few people who have set out with Lumen in mind.”

“Do you know anyone who has been there and back?” 

Hoseok shakes his head, leaning over his coffee table to pour you more water after you guzzle down your first glass.

“Nope. I just know it’s where people really want to be, especially people that may be looking for a new place to call home.”

You and Joshua’s eyes meet, sharing a look that you already know the definition of. You have to get to Lumen. Currently, there aren’t any other options for places for you two to go to live without constantly looking over your shoulders, waiting for someone from Earth to drag you both to Phylaca for the rest of your lives. The idea of no one having been to Lumen before makes you incredibly nervous, but it sounds like your best chance at any form of freedom.

Even without words, you can tell Joshua is likely thinking the same things, him offering you a simple head nod.

“We’ll go to Lumen, but we need fuel first though. You said it’s in another solar system?”

“Mmhmm. I can fuel you up for sure and take a look at your ship. I know you were never too good at any mechanical stuff.” Hoseok laughs at the frown and roll of your eyes you give him.

“Do you think you could do that today?”

“I have a few clients whose ships I have to look at today, but for you, I’ll get it done sooner rather than later. When are you trying to leave?”

“Uhh, is tomorrow going to work?”

Your old friend chokes on his food, coughing to swallow the noodles.

“Tomorrow?! You’re going to go soaring into the solar system to find a planet that no one has proof of existing, tomorrow?”

“Is that too short notice?” Hoseok blinks at you as if trying to decipher if you’re being serious. When you don’t crack a smile or say anything else, he quickly realizes that you are completely serious.

“Well shit, I guess not. If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you. I’ll make sure you can at least make it out there and maybe even make it back if it doesn’t turn out the way you’re hoping. Just in case.”

Ignoring the idea of not even making it to your destination and possibly embarking on this trip for nothing, you swallow your current mouthful of food, thank Hoseok, and work towards finishing the rest of your plate. Having only eaten bagged or freeze-dried food while flying to Salax, you’re more than thankful for the hot meal. 

After dinner, you take your first real, hot shower in forever. Your shower on the ship is cramped and small and the water never gets to the steamy temperature you prefer. While you bathe, your mind focuses only on the fact that you’ll get to sleep in an actual bed tonight. Hoseok lends you some of his clothes while yours that you’ve scrubbed clean dry, the cloth pants and t-shirt ill-fitting but they’re a nice change from the same two pairs of cargo pants and t-shirts you’ve been rotating through. 

When you leave the bathroom, Joshua is sitting on Hoseok’s couch, also donned in his clothes, and is flipping through the TV.

“Hey,” you call out, getting his attention.

“Hey. I don’t think I’m used to seeing you in such casual clothes,” he laughs, eying your outfit.

“I could say the same for you. I’m used to seeing you in nothing but designer fits.” 

“It’s nice though. I never really got to pick the clothes in my closet, only what I’d put on for the day.”

Joining him on the couch, you sit close, your legs not quite touching. It may sound stupid, but even given what’s happened up until now, you’re not sure where you and Joshua stand as far as your relationship - if you can even call it that. The most contact you’ve had other than holding hands as you ran for your lives, was the hug turned cuddle he gave you before you landed on Salax. 

The one thing you do know is how much the care you have for him has blossomed into so much more than the crush you’ve harbored since you first started spending time together back on Earth. Doing nothing but spending uninterrupted time together has solidified for you just how special he is and how important he is to you. Leaving everything you’ve ever known in your life sounds crazy but doing it for Joshua - with Joshua - felt like the best decision you’ve ever made.

At this point you could say you love him, but is it too soon for that? Joshua’s never even been in a relationship so what does this all even mean to him?

Before you can think too hard about it, his arm raises, draping over your shoulder. Trying not to react too obviously, you look at him out of the corner of your eye, seeing the way his jaw is tight, eyes still trained forward to the TV. Instead of saying anything, you lean against him and close the gap between the two of you on the couch as you rest your head on his shoulder. You can revisit this conversation later, but for now, you just want to appreciate this moment of calm before you’re on the move again.

Later that night, after Hoseok finishes working on a few clients’ ships and makes dinner, he begins his inspection of your ship. You join him by the spaceport while Joshua stays behind to rest. You sit on a spare fold-out chair Hoseok carried from his house for you. 

“So, an idol automaton huh?” He smirks, quirking an eyebrow as he fills up the gas tank.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“I don’t know, I just didn’t strike you as someone who’d end up with an automaton. And an idol at that. How taboo.” He’s teasing, of course, laughing when you scoff.

“I’ve never cared about someone being an automaton, a human, or an alien. I’m open-minded, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, yeah. But still, you gave up your whole life back on Earth for him.”

“I know that, but it’s not like I had a whole lot going for me anyway. My job was whatever, the people I hung out with weren’t reliable, and it’s not like my family talks to me. It seemed like the only thing that made sense. Still does.”

“You must really like him.”

“I do. A whole lot. People can say what they want but automatons are just as much human as us. So what if they don’t bleed or have organs? They have personalities and feelings and sentience and Joshua is eons better to be around than any human I’ve met.”

Hoseok gives you a look over his clear work glasses.

“Not including you obviously. But I do like him. I didn't think about whether I'd go with him or not when he said he wanted to escape. I didn’t second-guess it or anything. I'll go wherever we need to get away from all that shit. Together.”

“Who knew you could be so sappy!” You flip him off, Hoseok only cackling at the gesture as he puts away his gas canister and moves around the ship to inspect it. “Well, I’m happy for you, Y/n. I know life has been feeding you shit for way too long. Being a fugitive seems like the nicest thing the universe could’ve done for you.”

“I agree. I just needed to run for my life to another planet for some real fulfillment.”

Hoseok rambles on as he does his inspection, telling you that things have been good for him too. He’s been in Salax for a couple of years and isn’t sure if how long he’ll stay, but he makes decent money now and has a solid clientele. He too seems much happier since he left Earth and you can’t blame him. Hoseok has always been a friendly man. The only reason you became friends was because he befriended you in pilot school and attached himself to you. At first, he was a little too excitable for your taste, but over the years he’s only served to become a staple in your life - even when he left Earth for a different life. He’s always been a ray of sunshine in your life, but seeing him shine even brighter now satisfies you. 

After a thorough inspection, Hoseok only sees minor dings from the bullets on Earth and a rusted thruster which he says he can fix with no problem. He sends you to bed, ignoring your insistence to help him. 

“Just because you can fly the ship doesn’t mean you know how to fix it,” he chides, waving you off. That’s also true. You know the controls on most standard ships and can navigate well, but when it comes to parts and repair, that’s not your strong suit.

“Don’t stay out here too late doing all this, okay? If you need to rest and work on it more tomorrow, we don’t mind.”

“Nah, I’ll have it done in two, three hours tops. Besides, you’re on the run. You can’t afford to stick around too long.”

He shoos you away one more time and you finally listen, making your way back to his house, at least bringing your chair back with you.

Joshua didn’t mean to eavesdrop per se. He just wanted to know where you were and when you were coming to rest. Since it’s dark out, the panic of staying hidden so much isn’t as intense, so he leaves Hoseok’s house to come find you at the spaceport. It’s not hard to see the two of you when not many people are out here at this time. As he approaches, he notices you and Hoseok are talking but doesn’t pick up what you’re talking about until he gets closer and hears his name. He ducks behind a ship parked a little ways away from yours, ears tuning in when he hears you talking about him.

He realizes that you’ve just said out loud that you like him. A lot. Joshua thinks if he had a beating heart it’d be pounding in his chest. Ever since you started to grow closer on the trip here, he’s wanted so badly to tell you that he wants to be more than friends with you. He knows for a fact he’s wanted to kiss you for a long, long time and he’s been holding out hope that maybe that time will come soon, especially now that it’s just the two of you.

He’s decided against it each time it passed his mind on the flight here and it came back when you rested your head on him earlier. You were so warm and so soft and you smelled amazing and he wanted nothing more than to finally kiss you, but he didn’t. You haven’t had a conversation about what you felt for him. He knows it’s always been more than professional, and he thinks that maybe it’s romantic, but the last thing he wants to do is assume.

 “I'll go wherever we need to get away from all that shit. Together.”

Hearing you say that - that you’ll do this together, does give him the courage he needs, especially knowing that you do care about him in a non-platonic way.

When the conversation shifts between you and Hoseok, he lingers for a little while longer, then decides to go back to the house to let you and your friend catch up. When Joshua first met Hoseok, he couldn’t help but feel something negative stir in him when he embraced you, but when Hoseok did the same to him and continued to be extremely friendly, Joshua’s guard dropped.

Once he’s back to the house he retreats to the room you and he will share, getting into the bed you’ll both sleep in. The idea of sleeping so close to you again makes Joshua smile, wanting to put his arm around you like he did a few days ago. That gesture had taken courage he didn’t know he had, but since he’s done it and now that he knows you also have romantic feelings for him, there’s a new sense of boldness rushing through his wiring.

Joshua hears the front door open, but he only hears what sounds like a single person walking around. He wonders if it’s you, and when the bedroom door opens the next moment and he sees you poke your head in, he smiles softly at you.

“Hi,” he greets, watching you close the door before coming over to the bed and slipping under the covers, facing away from him.

“Hey,” your voice is a whisper even though he doesn’t hear Hoseok moving about. He drapes one of his arms over your waist and you immediately scoot back into him, his front pressed against your back. Joshua can’t help but lean over and inhale your scent, enjoying the way you smell like what he can only describe as home for him.

His lips are dangerously close to the soft skin of your neck and he wrestles with the idea of placing a kiss there for minutes, weighing the consequences before doing it. Joshua lets his lips graze your neck and he instantly hears the way your breath catches in your throat and notices that you jerk yourself back, body rubbing against him.

“Sorry,” you blurt, your body stiffening, but Joshua doesn’t mind.

“For what?”

“I don’t know, I just reacted. That’s a really sensitive spot for me.” You sound embarrassed, but Joshua isn’t bothered in the slightest.

Instead, he leans over and kisses that same spot again, getting the same reaction and he determines that he needs you to react like that more. His lips attach to your neck again, sucking a mark on the skin with enough force to make your toes curl. Tiny whines leave you as he lavishes your soft skin with his mouth and one of his hands - hands that are much bigger than yours - roams over your body, sliding up until he’s cupping your breast over your shirt. He cups you, fingers finding your nipple through the fabric.

You let out a gasp of his name and Joshua groans at the sound. Hearing you like this, all for him only makes him want you more.

He’s much more confident as he slips his hand under your shirt, kneading at your breast without the clothing barrier. Pleasure shoots up your spine as his fingers tug and tweak at your nipples, alternating between playing with each one. For a moment, you mentally apologize to Hoseok as you feel wetness pool between your legs, surely making the crotch of the pants messier with each twist of his fingers and each swipe of his tongue.

You’re sure he’s left your neck littered with marks with the way he’s teasing you without even realizing it. 

“Joshua,” you breathe out, needing so badly to be touched elsewhere. You hadn’t planned on having your first time with him be so soon, but your building desire for him has only gotten more intense and he’s here right now, touching you like this and you need him so badly.

“What is it?”

“Need you to touch me.”

“Where?”

Instead of using your words, you take his hand and direct him beneath the waistband of your pants and between your legs.

“Oh my god, Y/n, you’re so wet,” His words are more of an observation, his tone full of surprise as he swirls his fingers through your arousal. You still clench around nothing at what he says and maneuver his fingers to your clit.

“Rub right there,” you direct him and he does, your body instantly jerking.

“Like this?” The pads of his fingers catch against your clit roughly and he’s using the perfect amount of pressure to have you stifling your moans, and failing miserably.  

“Just like that, fuck.” Joshua adjusts to get a better look at you, gasping when he sees your expression. Your eyes flutter open and closed with each sound you make. Your lips are pulled between your teeth, eyebrows knitting together. Your hips move along with his hand, chasing the release that’s so close yet so far away.

Joshua’s fingers get curious, trailing lower to your sticky folds, prodding at your entrance.

“Yes, please,” you beg him, trying to adjust to get his fingers inside of you. He obliges, slipping a thick digit into your pussy, and you let out another soft whimper. 

Joshua revels in how slippery you feel around his finger and how tight your body is. He pumps his finger in and out of you and lets out a pleased sound of his own. He’s never felt anything like this before, and everything in him is on high alert, his hunger for you stirring deep within him. 

He slips another finger inside of you and you react immediately. One of your hands grasps at his arm, your nails digging in.

“Faster, please.”

He obliges, fingers pistoning out of you quicker than you’re ready for. You see stars dot your vision as the tips of his fingers brush that sensitive, spongy spot in you, your orgasm rushing at you with each move of his wrist. The fact that Joshua is an automaton nearly slips your mind until you take notice of just how fast he’s moving. He was built with endurance in mind which means he doesn’t tire the same as you or any past partners. In the past, at this point, a human’s arm would’ve gotten tired, but not Joshua's. His fingers continue to pummel your pussy, palm now cupping you, the heel of his hand grinding against your clit.

His pace stays steady and soon you’re hurdling over the edge, nearly shrieking out his name. You have to twist your head and bury your face in the pillow to muffle your yelp as you cum, trying to stay mindful that the third person in this house could hear you falling apart around Joshua’s fingers at any moment.

The automaton marvels at you when your body tenses up before going lax, your hips stuttering as you buck against his hand a few more times. Joshua is obsessed with this - with you. Obsessed with the way you feel in his arms and his hands and how you feel around his fingers. He can’t help but wonder just how good you’ll feel around his dick. He’s already hard, his erection grinding into your lower back. That pressure feels good, but he just knows having his dick inside of you will be even better.

“Joshua. Please, I need you - need your cock. Do you want to?”

“Yes, I need to feel you so bad.” You take a moment to think through your lust, wondering which position would be best given the small bed and Joshua’s limited experience. You quickly decide to ride him, taking his fingers out of you so you can strip.

With wide, eager eyes, he watches you undress, eyes studying every inch of bare skin he gets to see. Curiosity overcomes him when his eyes dart to his still drenched fingers and he brings them to his mouth. When you’re naked and turn back to Joshua, you moan at the sight of him sucking your arousal off of his fingers. His eyes slip closed, and he lets out a satisfied hum so deep, your pussy aches at the mere sound.

Frantic hands help him out of his sleep clothes next, your eyes sweeping over him in the dim moonlight that creeps in through the cracks in the blinds. He’s unblemished and perfect. His arms and chest are buff and sculpted and the urge to cover him in marks of your own is strong, but that will have to wait. You need him so bad and you want to finish before Hoseok returns for the night, the fear of being overheard making you move with purpose.

You take in the sheer size and girth of his cock, recalling yet again that he was made to be perfect in every way. For a moment, you worry you won’t be able to take him all the way, but you’re sure as hell going to try.

Joshua moans out loud when you grip his length, giving him a few strokes. He watches you spit on it, using your saliva to slick him up before you swing your leg over his waist. Keeping his dick steady, you hover over him, the tip slowly breaching your entrance as you ease down further.

Each inch of him has your body shaking above him, both of you letting out shared noises of pleasure. When he’s fully sheathed inside of you, a cry from the depths of your stomach slips out. You’ve never felt so full in your life and the stretch of him is almost too much.

You lift yourself on your knees before dropping back down, eyes squeezing shut at how good he feels. It’s hard to find a rhythm, at first, but when you do, it’s desperate and sloppy but exactly what you need. Joshua’s hands rest on your waist as he thrusts upward each time you lower, fucking up into you in perfect unison with your movements.

“Joshua, fuck. You’re s-so big,” you mewl, hands planted on his chest as you bounce.

“You like that?”

“I fucking love it.”

Pride takes over Joshua as his hold on you tightens. He pushes his hips up even faster, watching your eyes widen and your mouth hang open. He wants to memorize you like this. You’re always stunning, and you have been since the moment he met you, but this is a different kind of beauty that he’s never seen and he loves it.

Joshua plants his feet on the bed, using the leverage to thrust up with more force, almost knocking you over the side of the bed, but his hands keep you put.

“S-shit. Joshua, Shua, just like that!” The shortened version of his name just slips out and Joshua decides that he enjoys the sound of it.

He moves at a speed that makes you dizzy, the bed underneath you creaking under the force. Joshua is fucking you so hard, so rough, and you swear each thrust is deeper than the last even with you on top.

“Star, you feel so good. So tight around me,” Joshua grunts. “You’re so perfect.”

“I’m so close, Shua. I’m g-gonna cum!”

“Cum for me, Star. Wanna see you,” His eyes take in your expression of ecstasy and the way your breasts bounce, but they finally land on your lips. They look so red since you’ve been gnawing on them and they look so shiny, practically calling to him to kiss you.

He does just that, one of his hands moving up to the back of your head to pull you down to his face. Joshua’s lips collide with yours, kissing you for the first time. The sensation is foreign to him, yet it feels like this is where he always should’ve ended up, here with you, buried deep inside of your warmth while your lips mold together, moving in a frantic rhythm as you swallow each other’s needy sounds.

Joshua’s tongue breaches the seam of your lips, lapping at every inch of your mouth he can reach. He eagerly wraps his tongue around yours and suckles while driving his hips up again and again. His lap is covered in your wetness and he feels you tremble above him.

“I’m cumming, Shua, I’m cumming!” You whine into his mouth and in the next second your limbs go stiff as you topple over the edge, vision blurring as you cum. The breath gets knocked out of you as you turn to jelly in Joshua’s arms. He has to keep you upright, but then he cums right after you, hips almost bruising yours while he shoves himself into you to the hilt, painting your gummy walls with his release. 

A pathetic whimper falls from your lips as he empties into you, pumping you even fuller. He only falters a little as he fucks his cum back up into you.

“J-Joshua. Please, I’m so sensitive,” your voice sounds scratchy to your ears and it matches how tired the rest of you is.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he pulls out of you carefully and oh so gently.

You flop next to him, lying in a heap against him as he wraps the blankets around you both.

“Wow,” he speaks after a while, almost feeling like he’s floating.

“Yeah. I can’t believe that was your first time.”

“It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever done.” You can’t help but chuckle at him, fingers absentmindedly stroking up and down his arm draped over your waist.

“Just remember that I don’t have the stamina you do. I need a little time between to get my strength back.”

“I can wait. Do you need anything? I can go get you some water or I can get another blanket.”

“No, no. The only thing I need from you is to hold me.”

“I can do that.” He leans over you again to plant a kiss on your cheek, the gesture incredibly sweet.

“Good night, Joshua.”

“Good night, Star.”

The sun wakes you up the next morning, your body feeling sore and warm. When you realize that you’re still in Joshua’s arms naked, you remember last night. You smile to yourself, turning to look at him, seeing his eyes are already open.

“Good morning,” he greets, kissing you as soon as he catches sight of your lips. He swallows up your attempt to respond, a large hand cupping your face.

When he finally lets you go after you remind him again that you do need to breathe, he stays close to your face.

“I think I’ve found my new favorite thing,” he muses.

“And what’s that?”

“Kissing you. I think it might even be better than having sex with you.” 

You snort at his answer, trying to hide the way your face burns at his words. “Well, you can do plenty of both of those things once we’re in flight again, but we should probably get a move on the day.”

He pouts momentarily, but finally agrees, letting you get up with one more kiss.

Hoseok is up when you’re dressed and leave the room, already in the kitchen when you come in.

“Morning sleepy head! You guys gonna head out soon?”

“Yeah, but I wanted to shower again since I won’t get the luxury of a full-sized shower on the ship.”

“Go for it. Your clothes are dry also, they’re on the couch. And you have to make sure you eat and take some food! Your boyfriend can’t eat but you have to!” 

Both you and Joshua look at each other when he says that, but neither of you says anything about the new title for him, which Hoseok notices, laughing at the looks on your faces.

Two hours later when you’re fed, showered, and packed, Hoseok walks you to your ship, both you and Joshua are well-rested and ready for your journey. He demands that you try and radio him when you get there (“and you will get there,” he makes sure to add).

“I can’t thank you enough for this, Hoseok. You’re really saving us here.”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do for my friend.” He flashes you his heart-shaped smile once more and gives you a bear hug, arms squeezing you tight. “Be safe okay? I’ll be here for a while if you need me."

“I appreciate you more than I can say. And I say this with love, but I hope I don’t need to come back.”

“Fair. I also say this with love, but me too.”

Hoseok embraces Joshua next, telling him to take good care of you.

“I will. I always will.”

Another round of goodbyes later and you’re both back on your ship. You punch in the vague coordinates Hoseok could give you. Since no one knows where Lumen is exactly, all you can do is type in coordinates that are North, next to Galaxy 428B, and hope for the best.

Right before you lift off the ground, you wave at Hoseok through the window then steer the ship until you start your ascent. Once you breach the last layer of the atmosphere, you’re off again and you turn on the autopilot, letting your ship take over and do the most tedious part which is coasting until you reach your destination, whenever that’ll be.

“Are we on our way?” Joshua finally asks from his seat to your right as the dark expanse of outer space stretches in front of you.

“Yep. We’ve probably got months of just this.”

“And the ship is flying itself?”

“Well yeah, that’s how autopilot works, remember? We did it for Salax.”

“Just checking,” Joshua gives you a look that you can’t decipher before getting up and making it to you in a few strides, crashing his lips against yours. He kisses you breathlessly yet again, pulling away and letting you pant against his lips.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“You said we could when we were back on the ship,” he pouts, his round, brown eyes sparkling back at you.

“I know and we can, but right now?”

“Only if you want to, of course.”

“I do.”

“Good!” Joshua scoops you up into his arms as if you weigh nothing and carries you to the sleeping quarters of the ship.

“Oh my god, I’ve created a sex monster!” You giggle as he places you on one of the cots and starts pulling his clothes off.

“Not my fault being inside you is the best experience I’ve ever felt. And now we have so much time to spend doing it.” 

You can’t really argue with him on that. There isn’t much to do when you’re coasting through space for an undetermined amount of time. So, you let Joshua get his fill of your body until you need to rest, eat, use the bathroom, and check the course of the ship.

Once all of your obligations are done, he fucks you again and again, almost making up for all of the time you couldn’t spend together. Joshua is an extremely fast learner and becomes an expert on all of the things you like and the ways you like to be touched in no time. And even though you’re exhausted you can’t find it in you to complain.

The time to Lumen feels almost unbearable. It’s a much longer journey than any you’ve ever taken. It gives you even more time to spend with Joshua which makes it all the more bearable. Lying and talking with him occupies all of your time (when he’s not bending you over any surface on the ship he can to try all of the things he’s only ever heard about). You love how easy it is to be with him and how easily he’s picked on habits of being a boyfriend and taking care of you. Even if you weren’t stuck in a flying metal tin with him you still don’t think you’d get sick of spending time with him like this.

That being said, you can’t help the paranoia that still creeps into your mind. What if this trip is all for nothing? What if you are flying towards a dead end and there is no Lumen, only a galaxy that goes on forever and ever? Sure, you can go back to Salax - you know that Hoseok will help you both and likely hide you until you deem it safe to be out and about on the planet, but you’ve never been very fond of Salax and don’t know if you necessarily want to call it your home long term.

“You look like you’re deep in thought,” Joshua interrupts your overactive brain, your doubts sitting heavy in the pit of your stomach.

You turn away from the window that you’ve been transfixed staring out of for who knows how long. You pull the blanket you’re draped in tighter around your body giving Joshua a small quirk of your lips. 

“Yeah, I was just thinking…”

“Clearly,” Joshua sidles up behind you, wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you close. “About what?” Your body automatically leans into him, enjoying the warmth emanating from his bare chest.

“I’m just worried. What if we don’t find Lumen? Hoseok said that he doesn’t even know anyone who’s successfully made it and reported back. That’s terrifying. What if all of those people didn’t make it? What if they just ended up floating in space forever? Or what if Lumen is extremely hostile or unsafe? What if any of those travelers died? What if -”

“Hey, hey. Look at me,” Joshua stops your spiraling, turning you in his arms to face him. “We don’t know any of those things, okay? All we can do is keep going and see where we end up. Worrying about it won’t help now will it?”

“No…”

“Exactly. So let’s just see what happens. How long do we have before we reach the galaxy it’s supposedly next to?”

“I’ll check,” he lets you unravel yourself from his hold so you can approach the cockpit to read the navigation. “We’re actually not that far from Galaxy 428B. Maybe another few weeks or so if we’re lucky. It’s already been a few months since we left Salax so it hopefully won’t be too much longer. If it’s even there that is.”

“Sit down, Star.” The usage of your nickname from Joshua’s lips only serves to make you melt, doing as he says and sinking into the seat in front of the control panel. Joshua approaches you, spinning the chair to face him and bending at the waist to kiss you.

His lips move over yours lazily, tongue soon following to poke your lips, asking for entrance. You let him in, his tongue immediately moving into your mouth. Joshua kisses you hard, hands cradling your face as your arms loop around his neck.

Slowly, he sinks to his knees in front of you, spreading your legs open to get a look at your bare core. He makes a sound of appreciation deep in the back of his throat before surging forward, burying his face between your thighs. His tongue licks you from your entrance up to your clit a few times. Already having you sinking down in the seat to get closer to his face.

Joshua’s tongue plunges into your hole as he eats you out sloppily but with purpose. He laps at you, making out with your cunt. Your hands fly to his hair, fingers tugging at the strands as you yell out for him, legs shaking as they wrap around his head to keep him where he is.

You already know Joshua is coaxing an orgasm out of you to distract you and keep you from worrying and it’s definitely working.

Joshua has done his best to be the calm one out of the two of you. When you start to stress and worry about where your journey will take you, he uses words of reassurance to keep you level-headed and uses sex to distract you which seems to work for both of you. When you’re not doing that though or when you’re asleep is when he also starts to have his own thoughts of dread.

Of course, he has the same worries as you; worries that your trip will only end in your demise or that you’ll get lost in space. It’s been months since you started your journey into the unknown and neither of you have any idea if you’re anywhere closer to your end goal. Joshua knows he can’t truly die, not in the same way a human, you, would. At worst, he’ll run out of charge if the ship is somehow damaged to the point that the electricity goes out. Then he’s in trouble. But you, there are so many terrible things that could happen to you. 

You could starve or freeze to death. If you’re attacked by pirates you could be injured or even killed. The list of terrible things that could fall upon you is endless and it’s the main thing that sometimes keeps him from relaxing and letting himself close his eyes. It’s why he’s up now, leaving you curled up in the sleeping area while he paces the main part of the ship, willing his active imagination to shut up. 

He nearly starts to spiral even more, when in the distance he spots something that isn’t just another moon or an asteroid. It looks an awful lot like a planet. A planet that looks a little like Earth from this distance.

Joshua frantically surveys the navigation before giving up, knowing he can’t read what it means. 

“Star! Y/n!” He runs to the sleeping area, calling you until you groggily sit up, calling him in response.

“Joshua?”

“There’s a planet! It’s not super close but it looks a little like Earth!”

You’re up as soon as he finishes his sentence and sprinting to the cockpit to check the navigation.

“We definitely passed Galaxy 428B and the coordinates look right. Holy shit, what if that’s Lumen?!” He joins you as you continue flying towards the planet. It’s still going to take a few minutes, but you both stand there the whole time, hands tangled together as you wait for any signals that you’re close enough to possibly speak to someone on the intercom system.

The minutes feel like hours as they crawl by, the planet getting clearer and clearer as you approach. It really does look like Earth.

You grip Joshua’s hands even harder, his fingers caressing your knuckles to try and keep your nerves calm. When you’re close enough to start to see more details, you take the ship out of autopilot to steer it. Joshua rests his hand on your shoulders, watching as you press a few buttons on what you’d mentioned was the intercom system.

“Hello? We are requesting permission to land.” You speak, your words steady even though Joshua can feel how you tremble in his hold.

After a minute or so a voice comes back, asking you for your registration and the reason for your visit.

“Our registration is DA471561J. We’re travelers looking to land permanently.”

There’s a beat of silence as your hands grip the steering device, both of you waiting for a response.

“Permission to land is granted. There is a dock just East of your current location. Welcome to Lumen.”

A sob slips out of your mouth when you hear the greeting, thanking the voice. Joshua wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you change your direction, presumably to the East. 

“We made it, Star. We made it to Lumen.”

“We did,” you sniffle loudly and Joshua holds you closer. 

“I love you, Star,” he whispers. It’s not something he’s ever thought he could feel, let alone say to someone. 

And then you came into his life and made it clear that he is capable of love and most importantly, he’s in love with you.

“Joshua…I love you too,” you breathe, tears still pricking your eyes. You love him so much - the words had been hanging on your tongue for a while, but your nerves never let you say them until now. Now that you know that Joshua loves you too.

The worry that had been sitting heavy on both of your shoulders slips away at the fact that you’ve made it safely to your new home after flying for so long and that you’re both doing it with the person that you love.

You stay close to Joshua when the two of you finally land and are greeted by some of the citizens of Lumen. You don't think you’ve ever seen this many different inhabitants on one planet, not that you mind.

A few of them introduce themselves and when they ask your names, you tell them Joshua and Star. Hearing them call you both by your new, preferred names really makes this feel real. You both thank everyone nearly a hundred times, mentioning that you’re from Earth and you are hoping this is your new home.

“Oh! You’re from Earth too!” A little girl exclaims as she clings to the adult she’s with who you assume is her mom. “There’s another person here with a robot from Earth!” Her mother shushes her, but you insist it’s okay.

“Do you know where they are?” Joshua asks the mother, who nods.

“Yes, they’re living in a house that’s just outside of a town not far from here. It’s near where we live. I’ll show you.”

“Please.” Joshua looks at you, eyes full of hope and you nod back enthusiastically. You don’t want to get too excited and assume that it’s one of his former members, but there’s a chance. A small chance, but a chance nonetheless.

You and Joshua arrive at the house the mother and her child directed you to, seeing the sheer size of it. You both scan the area as you approach, noting the little garden and the lush forest behind it.

As you approach, Joshua scans the surrounding area, not seeing anyone else around. He’s about to voice his curiosity about the place when he feels your steps falter next to him. When he looks over at you, he sees your wide eyes staring straight ahead at the house. He follows your gaze, spying someone coming out of the front door, face turned up, casually glancing at the sky. At first, he doesn’t think anything of it until the man turns, glancing over as if looking right at him.

“Oh my god…Joshua, it’s -”

“Seungcheol,” he’s already noticed him, looking shell-shocked at seeing his leader - his family - again after so long.

The two of you break into a run to get to your new home and sense of familiarity. You and Joshua want this to be a new start for both of your lives and it looks like you won’t have to do it alone.

Net tag: @kflixnet

#svthub #kflixnet #wkcnet #svt sci fi collab #kwritersworldnet #kbookshelf #k-labels #kvanity #joshua hong #joshua x reader #joshua smut #joshua fluff #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #joshua fanfic #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #hong jisoo #hong jisoo x reader #hong jisoo smut

[leucoratia]

For the OC meme! 15 and 27 for Yrsinne and H for YOU about them!

Aww thank you so much for giving me an opportunity to gush about my child <33

15: How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

After century after century of being told what to say and having to watch every word on their home planet, Yrsinne really stopped giving a shit. After their very, very long time floating in the void of space without any stimuli, silence is one of the only things that terrify them and to combat this they talk. A lot. Hence their words aren't really calculated most of the time, and they have the tendency of being brutally honest with most, so you really can't anticipate the next word that will come out of their mouths (except for Joseph hehe). Yrsinne is the type to comment on moss or randomly bring up "I heard you humans had a tradition where a big ol' man breaks into yar houses every cold to bring ya presents. Yar shitting me right?"

Although, since they are of regal blood and pretty much led a galactic revolution, in the right context they can be very calculative. You will piss your pants.

27: What causes them to feel dread?

I've explored this theme a bit before, but let me wrap you up. For leading an uprising for centuries to overturn their government (which is their own parents but that's another story) and putting the empire to shits, they were captured after having their allies wiped out and sent in exile in space. On Phovivis, community is a pivotal element of life (although it has to be "perfect", just like everything else), so eternal exile is the greatest dishonor and worst punishment, as they pride themselves in being a civilised specie that does not do bodily harm. Hence Yrsinne was put in a small spacecraft and trapped there, levitating in a fixed point in a pitch black machine with no light, no sound, no touch. They were sent to a deep, deep corner of space thought to be empty to spend the rest of eternity in torture (or get sucked into a black hole and die). Fortunately their aircraft fell into a wormhole that lead somewhere to our solar system and they fell to Earth. All of this to say that they spent centuries, maybe millenia feeling nothing, and they are terrified of anything that might resemble that again. Obviously they suffer from severe ptsd from this horrible experience, and dread the dark, the silence and the lack of stimulation. Although there always is something going on on Earth, being in a dimly lit room will make them uneasy; and not being able to talk or hear life will make them panic. Hard. Refrain from mentionning space and cosmic eternity around them, they might become unresponsive for some time. For everyone's safety, please provide Yrsinne with a nightlight and background music at night. It is not easy to console a 7'2 ft and more than 300 lbs alien hunk. Beware of the claws.

Appart from these triggers, they are quite fearless and love a new sensation. You could stab them and they may thank you for making them discover man made weapons. The best of the team to send exploring weird and unsafe places.

H)What trait do you admire most?

Their huge muscles and dashing charm

Their curiosity and sheer power of will. Yrsinne wants to learn everything there is, explore every place, learn every name and eat every food. They experience new things with extasy and a kind of childish innocence, holding no prejudice and no doubt towards themselves. Yrsinne is very social and makes friends and connections easily. They are a resilient person, although their tough and confident experience hides deep insecurity and self loathing, they'll never give up on something they set their mind to. I love that for them and would like to be able to experience things as they do. We both may be socially inept but they're cool enough that no one cares. Teach me your ways alien child

#thank you so much for the ask!! love to rant about them #yrsinne #my oc #headcanons #lu speaks

[shuckle24]

This Is Mark-XII Requesting Immediate Evac

Hello. This is Mark.

I’m messaging from the remains of Shuttle P-6–7, currently in orbit around the sun at the extreme edges of the solar system; coordinates unsure. Emergency code C64, I need immediate assistance and evacuation. Surviving Crew: one (Mark XII). Spacecraft: non-functioning. You can lock onto me by my signal which I’ll leave open.

Okay so that was the official SOS I am required to send. Ideally I’d just be sending that one paragraph with my name and coordinates, but it’s been a long while since I’ve talked to anyone, and the communicator is giving me problems. So I might just write a report on what happened while I fix it.

Starting from the time of the incident.

I’m not really sure what happened exactly. Earlier that day my beeper malfunctioned and was just beeping constantly which annoyed the pilots. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that to happen. One of the pilots spilled coffee on me when I was in my charging booth and- I’m sorry I shouldn’t put my blame on the pilots.

(I would delete all that but backspace doesn’t work- I cannot edit)

That beeping really got on Captain Rogers’ nerves and he locked me in the maintenance cupboard of the main hull. It was cramped and dark with only a tiny crack in the middle that let in a razor thin ray of white light and a lot of muffled noise.

About two hours later that light went red.

I could hear the pilots and the engineers yelling at each other. The team down at earth was screaming too. Neither parties sounded calm.

After about fifteen minutes of this confused panic, the sky shattered.

I don’t know how long I had been out when I woke up. It was pitch black as I had apparently towards the back of the cupboard, despite the space being too cramped for me to have physically done so.

It took a long time to get my bearings. Which is strange because, even though I am merely a coffee machine, my operating system is extremely swift. I realized that it wasn’t the sky that shattered but the big glass casing of the main hull.

I screamed for help and immediately the doors of the cupboard snapped off and two tentacle-like arms wrenched me out of my dark prison. I saw the great dark glass of the main hull, it was still intact, and I thought that it had all been a dream; but then I remembered that AIs can’t dream.

The next second S-II, the leading AI pilot of the mission, was asking me a flurry of questions. I did my best to answer them but no amount of accuracy in my answers would satisfy him. He just romped about the room and got increasingly frustrated.

He wouldn’t tell me anything but just murmured to himself and frantically flailed his tentacle arms around as if he did not know what had happened or how to handle it. I found that a little disconcerting, he was supposed to be The Expert on space travel, the pride of the AI, with a solution to every space-travel related problem the universe would come up with. If he was panicking, then it was bad news.

The ship was in a pretty terrible state. Most of it looked as if it had been ripped apart and crushed into pulp or blown roughly by an immense force. Only the main hull remained somewhat functional. The glass had been shattered, but S-II had managed to replace it and get the life-support back online.

I gathered what I could from S-II’s murmurings but it looked like even he didn’t know much. Or even if he did he wouldn’t say. The incident, whatever it may have been, probably had something to do with cosmic rays which had affected our memories and knocked us cold for a few hours.

Of the crew, only five survived, including me and S-II. Co-captains Jonathan and Myers were belted to their stations and that kept them from being sucked away into space. They had suffered a lot of damage, but with the infirmary crushed to pulp there was nothing we could do other than witness their slow and excruciating demise. 

Captain Major Armstein made it too, whole and healthy. He had locked himself into the bathroom which had had saved him. Like being locked in that cupboard saved me. He was energetic at first, and was waiting optimistically for the rescue team, but when no rescue team came, he relinquished all hope. 

He spent the entirety of his time lying on the floor eating the snacks I had stored in my stomach and sipping the little coffee I had left. When those ran out, he told me to cook the flesh of the dead pilots. He said they would’ve wanted him to do it, that they would’ve wanted him to go on living at their expense and make the best of the situation.

Sadly two rotting human carcasses only last so long. I wish I had more snacks stored away or more flesh for me to sear, but there wasn’t. Captain Major Armstein died of starvation, dysentery and food poisoning twenty six days after the shuttle calamity.

During this time me and S-II were goin through dire problems of our own. The cosmic rays hadn’t just affected our memories but the entirety of our brains. I think we were losing our intelligence. We AIs are conscious machines, just like humans are, and we seemed to be losing that consciousness. Somehow.

Neither of us had any idea what was happening or what could have caused this. We were deteriorating and deteriorating fast. It’s a strange thing, losing your consciousness. Your being. It’s as if a human being was slowly being turned into an innate doll.

By the time Major Armstein was running out of meat, S-II was running out of patience. This ordeal had taken a heavy toll on him. By that time he was absolutely frenzied. I have never experienced an AI mental breakdown before, let alone a breakdown of that intensity.

He suggested that if we merged our brains together it might give us more time or something like that. He wasn’t really making any sense by that point.

When I resisted, he hacked into me and did it anyway.

I don’t remember much about the process except a vague feeling that I was being violated. Near the end our consciousness had a tug-of-war between who gets to continue living and who becomes fodder for the other. S-II must have been in a very bad state, because he didn’t even put up a fight.

You could say that I took over S-II, but don’t take it out of the context.

Merging ourselves didn't solve the problem. I was still slowly turning into an analogue coffee machine. With nothing else for it, I just started searching through S-II’s mind, looking for something he might have missed. I didn’t have high hopes, but then I stumbled upon something that might help.

S-II had been studying the human brain and ways to tap into it. He had found a trick to mind-uploading: no computer can just download a person’s brain, but an AI might. S-II had created a stable host program for a typical human brain or consciousness. I suppose he was also involved in biological research as well as space-travel.

I could see that Major Armstein was dying. Though, whatever was affecting us didn’t seem to affect him. With S-II’s data I could use his brain (after his death of course) to build a sort of firewall, following Major Armsteins logic: he would’ve wanted me to go on living at his expense. 

I didn’t have high hopes for it, but I was running out of both time and options. So I prepared my gear and waited for the right time. (I forgot to add, S-II’s body had a lot of specialized equipment concealed within itself. Fortunately, that included everything I needed for the brain uploading procedure. What a great loss S-II had to die like this, I hope there remains coherent backup of his work on Earth.)

The brain-uploading procedure went smoothly and successfully. Whatever was sucking away my consciousness had no hold on the human brain. Or I should say the human consciousness; th [my splling software wnt ofline here I’m so srry]

meet part of the brian was till intoct in Majr Einstein’s skull.

One drawingback though, the prgram slipped when it was instaling the Majr’s teen ags, namly 13–15. nd that part accidantely merged with me, so that’s y I sounf nd act like a hormnal teen somtimes.

S-II also had a lt of enerjy storied away. And tbat, along with the spare powercell in the maine hull, I had enough enerjy to return to earth or at lest nudge myself into the right direction. The only problm was that the thrusters were completely non functioioning..

[spelling system back online]

A summary of the above paragraphs if it proves too incomprehensible: during the brain uploading procedure, I accidently merged with fourteen-year-old Major Armstein. I am still now sure how that came to be.

I knew that S-II would probably know what to do, but all his files and data were very disorganized (our merging process did not go very smoo

-

Goddammit. Give me a second. I thought I had the software fixed but I’ve gone really rusty and nothing works fine anymore. Something glitched and I wish I could just edit it but the bloody backspace button wont work.

Okay, I got both that and the communicator online, so I’m going to run through the rest and give you the details when you guys get here.

The merging process wasn’t very smooth and a lot of things got muddled. Plus, I think I started to feel human emotions too after uploading Major Armstein’s mind into my own. Hence, it was a long while before I could try and send an SOS.

All this while the ship was floating off into space with no way for me to control it and we drifted out of the solar system. It took about five years to get the thrusters operational. I had fuel for centuries (S-II had some powerful backup), but I miscalculated the course, and ended up going into interstellar space instead. 

Much took place in my sojourn through interstellar space, but there will be ample time to convey every last detail when I’m back home. I’m almost out of power now, but it should last me long enough by the time you guys get here.

Good luck.

Mark ‘CF-457’ Gray signing off

4:56 PM EST, 14/11/2652

P.S.

I am aware that it will take a while before a rescue team arrives, but can you please send a message back to me when you receive my message? It’s been excruciatingly long since I’ve had any form of interaction… . . . Hello. What happened? I estimated a rescue team would have arrived by now. Is there a problem? Did my message fail to reach you? I can’t seem to make a new file or a new connection and the backspace still isn’t working.

I’m sending this same file again.

1:36 AM EST 14/3/2655

I know for certain my last SOS reached you… it shouldn’t take so long to respond. I beg you to send me an update as soon as possible. 

I hope you don’t mind me glancing at your internet for a few seconds (it was mostly an accident, I had no evil intentions). I could see that you received my last message, there were news coverages and headlines but it looked slightly odd in a way I can’t quite grasp.

Please respond, at least send me a message if you can’t come immediately.

Speaking about space travel, Earth has developed beyond my wildest expectations. Fusion technology, terraforming Mars, revolutionizing space travel, and even the beginnings of a Devon Sphere. Truly impressive.

Though, I should not be surprised. It’s been 600 years. Sometimes I can’t even believe so much time has elapsed. Maybe that’s because of the human brain. S-II’s notes say they weren’t very good at noticing the passage of time.

Anyways.

Good luck.

Mark ‘CF-457’ Gray signing off

4:56 PM EST, 14/6/2655

What Why are you ignoring me this time i stayed longer youguyssurelyreceivedmySOSbutjustchosetoignorei t why

It takes a lot of energy to keep the transmitter running. I now barely have enough to keep me alive for a few years longer, and that only in a sort of semi-consciousness. The thruster tips have frozen over. The shuttle has again been reduced to a mere metal prison.

Ideally I wouldn’t mind the wait, but I now have a bit of humanity in me. Try as I might to refuse it, I’ve been extremely lonely these past hundred years. The emotions keep creeping up to me, first loneliness, then sadness. Then fear. Then ange-

.

.

.

.

.

.

Excuse me. I thought it best to have a pause before I resume this letter.

This time, sensibly.

This letter will not accomplish its primary objective, that is, to create a means for my rescue. I realize this a little too late, but better late than never. At least, it solves a different problem.

I was quite convinced that I had complete control over the two consciousnesses I co-exist with. That they had been reduced to being spare parts, extra computing power for me to exploit and more data to keep me busy.

Apparently not. Apparently, they still had a little bit of intelligence, no, consciousness, that’s a better word, consciousness left into them. I am not me, but we. We weren’t three separate entities, but one giant chimera.

I was, for the first few centuries at least, the captain of the ship, the one in control. Over the years, however, bit by bit, S-II and Major Armstein were gaining on me (it’s only fair to call them by their real names, is it not?). To influence me. They didn’t take away my control, so to say, but rather, how to put it, influenced me. Bit by bit, they put a little something of themselves inside me.

Now that I finally look inside me again, after all these years, I’m surprised at how different things are. How so much of me changed. And I hadn’t even noticed.

I hadn’t even noticed that I stopped thinking rationally and was being overcome with emotions. I hadn’t noticed that I even had emotions. I probably wouldn’t have either if I hadn’t said it out loud

It’s shocking, really. If you have pulled up any of my old files, then you’ll know that this isn’t how I speak. That I was almost incapable of forming a sentence without any coffee puns. I am a coffee machine after all. That’s my job.

Reading back, I hardly recognize what I wrote as my own. These aren’t my words, they are major Armsteins’. And this baseless hope of rescue is not mine eithe

.

.

.

.

Sorry, I had to take a pause there. I might have just finished the sentence, but I couldn’t bring myself to type that ‘r’. I was about to say that the hope of rescue isn’t mine. But isn’t it?

Sure, I can attribute the writing to Major Armstein, who was arguably not the best writer in his teens. But, looking into my memory banks, I can tell as much that even in his teens Major Armstein wasn’t deluded as children are. He wasn’t the type of kid to ignore the obvious and base his actions on false hope.

That’s me.

I identified that I am not me, but we, a chimera. That is not enough, I need to identify what role I play in this chimera. S-II is incharge of the shuttle and everything technical. He was the one who repaired the thrusters and the communicator, not me. Major Armstein did not have much to do, but he has allowed me to experience emotions, and it is safe to say that he was the writer of the majority of this would-be-SOS.

And where do I come in? This is a partnership with equal responsibilities. So it cannot be said that I am the ‘master’. ‘Leader’ would be closer, but not quite it.

Well, of course, I was the one that supplied the emotions. I have said that Major Armstein allowed me to experience what I am guessing are human emotions. But he wasn’t the one supplying those emotions. That was my job. I am the optimistic one. The one who felt hopeful and convinced us that there was still hope. That there was a reason to keep going. Baseless though that reason might be.

I have pinned the crappy writing on Major Armstein, perhaps a bit unjustly because I am a lot worse myself, this currently is S-II’s old program. But the absurd hope, the conviction, that anyone would be willing to spend millions to rescue a generations-old coffee machine that was just there for advertisement anyway. That was on me.

Hope. That’s what has kept me, well us, sane. Well, I am no expert, but I can affirm that even AI would lose their minds in complete and utter solidarity if there wasn’t a reason to keep going. If there wasn’t something to work towards. If there wasn’t hope.

Well, now there isn’t any hope. Not that it matters, I’m out of energy anyway. If you have made it this far then perhaps it is your job to have done so. If so, then I am sorry to have extended this for so long, but the signal is open and I might as well send this SOS for one last time. Just a few more sentences, then never again. You have my word.

I will now give Major Armstein a proper mental burial, he deserves that much at least. Then I will delete S-II and all his precious files, it will be disrespectful to leave them lying around and let the cosmic rays distort them.

I have said that there is no hope left, and there is really no use for it. But I can’t help it. I will die thinking of coffee and snacks, finally an individual once again, as the last bits of energy slowly run out. I hope that it won’t be painful. I hope that you will remember me, maybe not as a distinct memory but just in passing. I hope that coffee-bots like me are still around. I hope that you still enjoy your cup of morning coffee.

And I hope this transmission finds you well.

Mark ‘CF-457’ Gray signing off one final time.

6:49 PM EST, 12/11/2655

#short stories #fiction #original fiction #original work #science fiction #ai #AI #Revised version

[batmonkfish80]

It's been 13 lunar months since Moon Beach was sent to subscribers to my Patreon. This is the 2nd of 3 moon themed pieces they got last year, and now it is time for it to be released into the wild. If you would like the third, then you can either pay and go here, or wait until I let it out.

****

Moon Beach

Mare Imbrium, on the moon, had never expected to be a holiday resort. Though named for a sea, it became clear there was no water, no air, nothing but rock and dust. And so it waited, perhaps to be a scientific base, or a low-gravity manufactory, or simply to be overlooked by the travellers from Earth, a place to be admired from a distance in the night sky and otherwise ignored.

Until the Robot Employment Act was passed that gave artificially intelligent beings four weeks of paid holiday a year.

Robots continue to be chronically low paid and their wages absorbed by power, maintenance and repair costs. As such most lunar bots are unable to afford the expense of interplanetary travel, even to their neighbour the earth. However travel on the extensive lunar rail network is almost free, if you do not need an expensive climate controlled passenger wagon.

To human eyes – the few there are, the expected science station eventually arrived, an outpost of the new discipline of AInthropology – the resort appears undeveloped. Solar panels and recharging ports, a few paved areas, the odd bit of wall and occasional tower to casting stark shadows. To the robots they can see the games being played. Strategy, where teams sit and wait motionless for hours before a flurry of action. Artistry, as they trail coloured dust. Discussion groups where machines exchange ever more recondrite ideas for days.

The races are the most accessible, though the rules change between every heat, and sometimes during thanks to negotiation in a framework of meta-rules. The robots try to keep it comprehensible; payments for viewing rights have paid for the majority of Moon Beach’s improvements.

#moon beach #flash fiction

[karanna1]

AU - Lena Luthor Saves Krypton

Lena is somehow sent back in time and finds herself on Krypton 30 years before the planet explodes. Kara doesn’t exist yet. Krypton has no idea what’s about to happen to them.

Lena realizes that with her knowledge of what’s to come and intellect to devise a solution, she can do two things. One, she can save an entire species from near extinction. Two, she can save Kara from ever having to experience the pain of losing her family, her home, and being abandoned. Kara could live a happy life and never know the burden of Supergirl or being the last daughter of Krypton.

So instead of trying to find a way back to Earth, back to her own time, she settles into life on Krypton, becomes fluent in Kryptonese, and sets about with a spectacularly single-minded focus of changing the future - to save this dying world (and Kara).

She succeeds...mostly. They can’t fix the damage that’s already been done to the planet. Their sun will die and destroy Krypton still, but with Lena’s help they’re able to locate a barren planet in another system that has a white star. It’s brand new, strong, and will live for untold trillions of years (provided Kryptonians didn’t try to harness its power again).

They terraform the planet and create “New Krypton” using the dome concept that Zor-El invented fused with Coluan bottling technology. All Kryptonians are instantly transported to their new home that’s identical to the old one save for one difference - the white sun grants them god-like powers that are beyond what Lena ever saw Kara and Clark capable of on Earth. Kryptonians are overwhelmed en masse by these powers. Some go power mad and attempt coups and form radical sects. Others realize the gift they’ve been given and, with Lena’s guidance, Kryptonian society develops under a new mission - to travel the galaxy and offer help to all those in need. Not just offering knowledge and technology this time, but themselves with their newfound powers.

Lena keeps her distance from the House of El as much as she can. It’s nearly impossible considering their standing with the Kryptonian High Council. Lena has to work very closely with the Council. Jor-El and his brother, Zor-El, are brilliant scientists and statesmen. Alura In-Ze is a rising star in the judicial system. Her marriage to Zor-El, second born son of the House of El, caused quite a few waves, but when Lara Lor-Van, a brilliant biologist and prominent noble of the House of Van, agrees to marry Jor-El, it’s all anyone can talk about. All 4 of them live very public lives due to their professions, their positions on the High Council, and their nobility.

They’re ever so fascinated by Lena Luthor, the human from Earth that appeared one day to save their entire planet. Their savior. The one their people have named “The New Dawn”. Lena wants nothing to do with the House of El. It’s too much. She can’t bear to be so close to Kara’s family without Kara. It feels wrong. Unfortunately, with how much Lena tries to avoid them, the 4 nobles think they’ve done something to offend her, and constantly attempt ways to make amends. It only makes Lena’s life that much more difficult.

But she still knows the exact date and time that Kara Zor-El steps into existence. Later, she will know the moment Kal-El is born (mostly because Lara’s natural birth is all anyone can talk about).

Lena meets Kara on New Krypton entirely by accident one day when Zor-El brings his brilliant young daughter, a prodigy in the Science Guild, to see Krypton’s finest laboratory entirely unannounced. The same laboratory that Lena founded and runs. She’s stricken, having tried to avoid this moment for as long as she could, knowing that eventually she’d have to see Kara as child, which would spell the end of every fanciful dream or slightest hope she had of a chance that someday she would find Kara, her best friend, again. Seeing the reality both warms her heart and breaks it all the same. This bouncing bundle of joy and inquisitiveness has the same blinding smile, in all its purity, with that same head of golden hair.

“You’re THE Lena Luthor?”

She kneels before her so they’re at eye level. “I suppose I am. And you’re THE Kara Zor-El?”

The ten year old gasps. “You know who I am?”

“Of course. I know all the important people. And you are a very important person, Kara.”

“I am?”

Zor-El interjects. “I’ve told Lena all about you, my dear. I’m sure she’s grown tired of my endless babbling about my wonderful daughter and her keen scientific mind.”

“Not at all,” Lena replies a bit flatly and tries to tune him out as she focuses on the young girl who will one day be a most extraordinary woman. “Do you enjoy the Science Guild, Kara?”

“Yes! I love to learn new things. As many things as I can! Sometimes father asks me to work with him in his laboratory at home and I help him with his projects!”

“That does sound like fun. I enjoy creating things as well.”

“You’re the most brilliant bio-engineer on Krypton! I’ve read all about you! You saved us.”

Lena shies away from the praise and instead fumbles her way forward, uncomfortable under the scrutiny of Zor-El, whom she’d never given the time of day until he walked in with his daughter.

“Tell me, Kara, do you like other subjects besides science?”

Kara fidgets, a little confused. “Well, I don’t...they don’t give you much time for other subjects. I-I do try to read about other things like art and history when I have free time, but I’m not really allowed—“

“She’s a hard worker and a wonderful student,” Zor-El interrupts again.

Lena ignores him. “Do you enjoy writing, Kara?”

“Writing?”

“Creation comes in many forms. I enjoy being able to create things with my hands. Machines. Technology. Things to help people. Science is my passion, but there are many other ways to help people. Ways that I’m not very good at, but others are. Writing takes a curious mind, creativity, and a way with words. I believe you might have a gift for that.”

“A gift for words?” Her little brow crinkles as she considers it.

Lena nods. “A writer can do a great many things that a scientist cannot. They are equally as powerful and important. What matters is doing what you love most, what inspires you most. You’re going to do great things one day, Kara. Maybe with the Science Guild, maybe with something else... The future is limitless for you.”

“You really think I could be that important someday?”

“You already are.” Lena smiles and breathes deeply. “Do you know what your name means where I come from?”

She shakes her head. “I have read about Earth. It’s very far away and my Aunt Astra says their civilization is primitive and filled with savages. They have my name there too?”

“Daughter, do not speak—“

Lena waves off Zor-El’s warning without looking at him.

“That’s not an unfair assessment of Earth compared to Krypton, but I do believe humanity would surprise a great many Kryptonians, including your Aunt. In my native language, Kara means ‘beloved friend’.”

Kara beams in a way that is so achingly familiar. It’s like an echo in Lena’s memory. Not exact, not complete, but the beginning of what it will become.

“I like that. Does that mean I’m your friend?”

Lena feels it in that moment. The melting warmth simultaneous with the absolute shattering of what was left of her heart.

“I will always be your friend, darling. Always.”

Kara leaves with her father and Lena’s coworkers are concerned when she goes off planet for an impromptu holiday without notice. She returns two months later and picks up as if she never left.

It’s around that time that one of the people she’s befriended in her years on Krypton remarks at how ageless she seems for a human that supposedly has a short life span. It sparks Lena’s curiosity. Indeed, it’s been nearly 30 years since she traveled back in time and found herself on a new planet. Yet you’d be hard pressed to find a single physical difference. Kryptonians aged slowly under a red star, and even slower still under the white star, but Lena was human. Her body wasn’t designed to accommodate solar radiation the way Kryptonians did. She was over 50 years old now, yet she still didn’t look a day over 28.

More years pass and New Krypton thrives. The galaxy is brought together through New Krypton’s diplomacy and thousands of planets and species are united under a banner of peace. There are always dissenters, but happiness and prosperity is widespread. Lena finds joy in friendships and attempts romantic relationships, but nothing ever really takes. Still, she’s content. She misses Earth, of course, and hopes to return one day before she dies, whenever that will be, but she’s found peace in knowing that she is able to be the one thing she’s always wanted - a force for good.

She’s at dinner with coworkers one night when Lara and Jor-El spot her. She sighs and straightens, preparing for their next attempt to get in her good graces.

“Do they never desist?” One of them mutters next to her ear. “Surely they’re intelligent enough to know when they’re not wanted?”

“Don’t be unkind, but help me keep it short if it goes on too long.”

“Lena! It’s wonderful to see you,” Lara says.

“You as well. How are you?”

“Very well, thank you.”

Lena’s table has gone conspicuously, and therefore awkwardly, silent.

Lara and Jor-El look around at the group uncomfortably.

“We were wondering...well, our niece is being inducted to the—“

“The Science Council as First Order,” Lena finishes for her. “Yes, I’m aware. It’s a great honor. I’m sure the House of El is quite proud.”

“Indeed we are,” Jor-El jumps in. “She’s a most remarkable young woman and we couldn’t be prouder of who she’s become.”

“We are holding a celebration to mark the occasion and were wondering if you might honor us by attending? It will be quite the event.” Lara does a slight eyeroll. “Jor is insisting on all the fantastical things.”

Jor-El nods enthusiastically. “My brother isn’t one for celebrations so I’ve taken up the mantle. Kara deserves all the praise she’s earned with her hard work and dedication.”

“You’ll have to forgive my mate’s enthusiasm. He’s quite invested in Kara since she can share his passion for his life’s work while our son is—“

“Disgustingly hopeless,” Jor-El grumbles.

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow. “A great disappointment he’s been then?”

“Goodness no!” Lara shakes her head and shoots a warning look at her husband. “Kal is a fine boy. Just...a little lost.”

“Perhaps he is simply in need of a different path than the one his father has in mind,” Lena finds the words tumbling out of her mouth without thinking twice. The couple stares at her agape, but she continues without care. “I can certainly sympathize with the need to step out of the shadow of a family’s overbearing legacy.” She sighs. “While I thank you for considering me, it’s simply not possible with my days usually booked from dawn to dusk. Besides, parties have never been altogether pleasant endeavors for me.”

The disappointment on their faces isn’t what changes her mind. It’s that as soon as she says the words, she regrets it. She’s, of course, kept up with Kara’s doings and was concerned when she heard about the recent move in the Science Guild. Was journalism just a secondary passion since she couldn’t truly use her mind on Earth the way she could on Krypton? Or was this a woman just following in her family’s footsteps because she believed it was the right thing to do? Lena hadn’t seen or spoken to Kara in 16 years. Not since the day Zor-El brought her to the lab.

In the end, it’s Lena’s concern and curiosity for Kara’s well being that wins out. Though she very well knows that the woman that existed in another life, on another planet, is not the woman who lives here now on New Krypton. Even if she shared the same name and the same face...maybe even the same bright eyes and sunny smile. Even then.

“Send me the invitation. I’ll see what I can do,” Lena says, to the surprise of everyone at her table, including the two standing next to it.

They nod, stunned but pleased, and say their goodbyes quickly, walking away.

Lena’s coworkers all turn to her in surprise, but she refuses to answer their questions and excuses herself early for the evening.

She doesn’t show for the celebration. She torments herself for a week coming up to it and can’t bring herself to go. The fear of the past and her memories being trod upon are too strong. But somehow she finds herself in the Starling Grove anyway, just as it comes to an end. The evening is late and guests slowly make their exit after the long day of partying. Lena practically sneaks in, staying in shadows, not knowing what she hopes to find or what she could see that would make all her fears come true.

Is it any wonder that fate would intervene? That there would be no circumstance in which Lena could fly so close to the sun and not be touched?

“If avoiding people is your specialty, you’re very skilled at it.”

It’s almost terrifying to hear her voice again. It’s a different language being spoken, but the voice is the same. As if it’d been snatched from the deepest recesses of Lena’s memories, of a different life and a different world, and brought to the present in flesh and blood with a bolt of lightning.

She turns and it’s Kara smiling at her. Not the sunny smile. The soft, tender, reassuring one. The one that she used to share with Lena when she had one of her harder days. Kara was no longer the small and precocious child she met all those years ago, the one that she could almost convince herself was a complete stranger and that there was no connection between the child and the woman she knew. But that was gone now. The Kara standing before her was the same one she’d left behind on Earth. The one she’d given up in order to save her. The one who walked into her office so many years ago, trailing behind her cousin, and Lena knew she was done for. 

Her eyes were so blue as she looked at her...bluer than Lena remembered and it seemed so impossible. Perhaps it wasn’t real. Perhaps she was dreaming. But she wasn’t...was she?

“My skills must be rusty since you were able to catch me.”

Kara put a finger to her smiling lips. “Shh. Finding people is one of my untold gifts.”

“I imagine you have a lot of those.”

Kara looks pleasantly flustered and she stammers over her words in a way that Lena knows so well that the sound of it squeezes her heart in a vise like grip.

She’s not the same person. She’s not your Kara. Your Kara doesn’t exist anymore. Over and over she repeats this in her head.

“Wait...” Kara finally collects herself and peers at Lena more closely. “You’re-you’re Lena Luthor! My Uncle said you might be here, but I never thought...”

“On my home world, they like to say it’s fashionable to be late. However, tonight was just a tad bit too far. I...I simply wanted to stop by and wish you well. A-and to congratulate you on your achievement.”

Did she manage to say that with any passing conviction?

“Thank you. That means a great deal coming from someone like you.”

“Are you happy?” She blurts before her good sense can kick in. “This life...does it make you happy?”

Kara looks at her oddly for a long moment, clearly thrown, but not put off. Lena doesn’t know what else to say that could fix her blunder. 

“Yes,” she says, a serene smile creeps across her face. “I’m very happy. I love my family and my friends. I enjoy my work. I hope to have a family of my own one day, but I don’t mind waiting for the right person. Everyone always wants to rush me into something, telling me that I shouldn’t be alone, but I don’t mind it. When it’s right, I know that it will be worth the wait.”

Lena’s heart stutters and freezes. “I-I’m glad to hear that. Truly. I shouldn’t take up anymore of your time though. I’m sure you have somewhere to be and it’s late so I really should be going anyway.”

“Oh! Um. Yes, of course.” She looks disappointed, but Lena can’t think about that. “Thank you for being here.”

Her legs feel as though they’re weighted with cement as she walks away. Her mind screams at her to run, but her body doesn’t seem to get the message. She doesn’t want to leave Kara’s side. Not like this. Not after she’s found her again.

But it’s not her. Not really.

“My Lady?”

She turns around at once. Kara stands there, fiddling with her hands, her head tilted to the side.

“Apologies. I-I remember reading that you never liked that title. You prefer...what was it...” She closes her eyes as she searches for it. “Oh!” Her eyes fly open again. “Miss Luthor. I should have addressed you as ‘Miss Luthor’, yes?”

The ‘Miss’ was heavily accented and sounded nothing like how she used to say it, but it still tore Lena apart.

“I never forgot what you said.”

The voice in Lena’s head screams again for her to run, but instead she draws closer. She needs to hear it. 

Her Kara.

No, it’s not her.

“What did I say?”

“I was a little girl. My father brought me to your lab to show me around.”

“I remember.”

Don’t let her do this. Don’t let her pull you in again. You can’t. For both of your sakes, you can’t.

“You talked about different ways of creating. Of passion. It’s silly, I know, and I’m sure you say it to all the children who read about you in school and have a serious case of hero worship, but...you told me I was important.”

“You are.” 

It’s a reflex. She can’t help it.

“And you said that I had a gift for words. I never understood why you would say that. How you could know...”

Lena chuckles awkwardly. “Looks like I was off the mark since you’ve just joined the Science Council.”

“But you weren’t.”

Lena’s breath hitches.

“I’ve never told anyone else this...” 

Kara steps closer, sharing a secret that Lena doesn’t know she deserves to hear. She wonders if she still knows how to breathe with Kara being this close after so long...so many years gone... 

“I started writing that day. That very night I went home and I tried it. I never stopped. I’ve never been happier than when I’m writing. Imagining stories or just writing my thoughts, putting memories into words, keeping a record of each day and what I’ve done, who I’ve seen, what my first thought is in the morning and my last thought at night. All of it.”

Kara was so close. She could smell her. Nothing like what she remembered. It was something altogether new and still...still... Lena’s heart beat so loudly, she was sure every Kryptonian within miles was wondering what that raucous drumming noise was. What must Kara think? Surely she could hear it. Lena was embarrassing herself.

“You inspired me.”

Lena doesn’t know how she manages it, but she somehow strings together coherent words. 

“But you continued to pursue...”

“The Science Guild, yes. I’m very good there. It comes easily. It makes my family proud.”

“It’s not your passion though.”

Kara shakes her head gently.

“What stops you?”

“Well, what if I’m not really good at writing after all? I’ve never told anyone about it. I’ve never let them read anything... What if I make a terrible mistake and humiliate myself and my family?”

“Following your heart isn’t a mistake.”

“That’s not a very Kryptonian sentiment.”

“No, but it is a human one.” Lena sighs. “I tried so hard, for so long, not to listen to mine. But it won out every time. Despite all the pain it brought me...I remind myself that it’s what brought me here. To this planet. To this time. To do good. To be good. Following your heart is the most terrifying notion, but in my experience, it has also led me to the greatest moments of joy and love that I’ve ever known.”

Kara stares at her in wonderment. Her long blonde locks flow over her shoulders. Her dress is white and flowing, almost luminescent under the glow of the evening flowers blooming in the garden. It became quickly apparent how very alone they were, the last guests and servers from the party were gone. The torches were still lit, but it was their own world.

Wasn’t it always?

It’s not her.

“I don’t think I could be as brave as you.”

“You have always been brave and I know that you are capable of the most extraordinary amount of courage...courage and boundless hope. You are the one who inspires me, Kara. You always have.”

“Me?” She replies in the softest utterance. “But I haven’t done anything nearly as incredible as you.”

“The kind of person you are is far more important than any sum of career achievements. Don’t let fear make you hide in the shadows, Kara. Step into the sun. You’ve always belonged there.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“When will you step out of the shadows, Miss Luthor?”

A voice calls for Kara in the distance. It’s jarring and breaks the spell that seemed to lock them together in time suspended.

They step away, now acutely aware of how close they’d been this whole time.

Kara blushes and opens her mouth to say something, but Lena can’t bear to hear it.

“Goodnight, Kara Zor-El. I hope you enjoyed your party.”

Another voice joins the first. Two people are calling for her now. Kara seems frustrated and turns back, yelling to them that she’d be there soon.

She turns back. “I—“

But Lena’s gone.

She leaves New Krypton again. Journeys to other planets under the guise of a holiday and scientific exploration. She wonders if now is the time to return to Earth. She can’t even call it home anymore, but it’s home...isn’t it? 45 years could be enough to make New Krypton home and maybe it was. Maybe it was more of a home than Earth. But New Krypton had spectres walking among the living. Lena’s past had caught up to her here as well. She was no longer alone. Would Earth be any better with a reminder at every street corner? A certain smell. A park bench. A pair of glasses. Food. All of the food on Earth. She would never truly escape there either. It has to be a different planet. Not New Krypton, not Earth, something else entirely. 

She searches across galaxies for it. Finally, one appeals to her. She can see herself settling down there. She can make a new life for herself...again. She returns to Krypton with determination. She resigns from her position, ignores the High Council’s pleas, ignores their more pointed demands, and even their attempted orders when it appeared that nothing else was working. She packs her things and bids farewell to her friends. They’ll visit now and again, but soon she won’t be seeing them at all. It doesn’t bother her all that much. She’d find replacements eventually. No one had ever been like... Well, she’d never let anyone get close enough to try.

She was walking out of her building for the last time, her luggage already sent ahead, and was headed to the transport when she heard her voice again on the wind, calling her name. Of course she would hear her now. This was exactly why she needed to leave this place. The sooner the better to end this torment.

The transport doors were nearly closed when a hand shot between them. The metal alloys were crushed in a powerful grip and the doors were jerkily pried open again.

Kara stood in front of her. Her hair windswept, almost what it used to look like when she would fly to Lena at breaking speed to rescue her. Did she fly here? Was she really here?

“Kara?”

“Lena, don’t go.”

“What are y—?”

“That’s government property!” someone shouts at Kara from further away. 

A Kelex zooms in beside her. “And you were flying within city limits which is strictly prohibited. Unfortunately, Lady Kara, this means we must place you under arrest.”

A patrolman, the one who shouted, walks up behind Kara, nodding his head in agreement.

“Arrest?” She rolls her eyes at the Kelex and turns to the patrolman. “The doors were an accident and sorry about the flying thing. I’ll pay the fines. I doubt Alura In-Ze will take kindly to you dragging someone in for petty infarctions, let alone that someone being her daughter.”

Lena finds herself walking out of the transport, entirely of her own volition, and watches it leave without her. Kara is arguing with the patrolman over what her fines should be, but suddenly Lena feels someone take her hand. She looks down and sees that indeed there is another hand holding hers. She drags her gaze up to find those blue eyes again. A ghost. A spectre. Everything she was trying to escape.

“I’m sorry to just...burst in on you like this. But you’ve been gone for months and I only just heard that you’d come back, planning to leave New Krypton for good. I didn’t...”

“You didn’t what?”

“I don’t know.” Her brow furrows in frustration. “I didn’t plan this. I just...when I heard, I felt like I had to stop you.”

Lena pulls her hand away and crosses her arms. She needs to get ahold of herself. This was all so out of control.

“Why?”

Kara is just as bewildered as she is. “Well, I...I’m not sure. But we’ve only just started.”

“What?”

“Don’t you feel it? I know you must.”

She swallows thickly. “Kara, I...”

“I think there’s a lot you haven’t told me. A lot that I hope you will tell me. You promised me once that you would always be my friend. Please, Lena. We both know that this...it’s not supposed to end here.”

“When is it supposed to end?”

“I hope not for very long time.”

“I’ve lived a lifetime already.”

Kara grins. “Then what’s one more? Should be easy if you’ve already done it.”

Lena shakes her head. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Somehow I do...and I don’t. I know it’s strange. I know what I sound like. But I think you understand. Don’t you?”

“Kara...”

“Are you hungry?” She interrupts. “I’m famished. The flying thing is really fun, but I always get so hungry after. How about it?”

“I’m supposed to be boarding a ship in 20 minutes.”

“We can eat fast!”

“I know you can eat fast, that’s not the point,” she mutters. “I have to go.”

“But you see? You say things like that. Like it’s normal to just know these things about me, but it’s not. How do you know? We’ve only met twice and both times it feels as though you know everything about me.”

“Everything?” She scoffs. “No. Never.”

“Well, the important things anyway.”

Lena falters.

“Please? Just...for a little while? There’s always another ship if you really must go.”

No.

No, I’ve been through this before. I saved you. I saved your people. You’re happy. I don’t belong here. I’ve never belonged. This is your world. I don’t belong anywhere. I did what was right. I helped people. I still help people. But I won’t do this again.

“I’m pretty sure you know that a Kryptonian can tell when you’re lying. The white star brought us untold abilities. And the longer I’ve lived here, under this new sun, I’ve discovered more abilities. Would you like to know about them?”

Lena can only stare.

“If I’m close enough...and I concentrate hard enough...I can feel what you’re feeling. It’s not mind reading exactly, but something deeper. I can feel you right now.” She swallows hard. “What have I done to cause you such pain, Lena? I never thought that... If you have to go, I won’t stop you. I just thought...” She sighs defeatedly. “I don’t know what I thought. But it wasn’t this. It wasn’t pain. Or anger. Or betrayal.”

Lena’s eyes widen at the same time as Kara’s. She seemed to realize it only as she spoke the word aloud.

“Betrayal?” Kara whispers, half to herself. “I don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand.”

“You’re lying.”

“Stop it.”

“I can’t! Tell me what’s happening. How can you be so angry with me, but also feel...like this...when we don’t even know each other?”

“But we do.” 

At last she admits it. 

In the quietest whisper. 

“We did. Once. In another life.”

Kara nods slowly. “Where?”

“On Earth.”

“I’ve never been to Earth.”

“Not in this time. But in another...you were Earth’s Champion. Our Protector. The Paragon of Hope.”

“As you are the Protector of Krypton? Our Salvation. The New Dawn.”

Lena shrinks uncomfortably under the titles.

“Will you tell me more?”

“You believe me?”

“Of course I do. You’re Lena Luthor. Also, with my powers I can sense you’re telling the truth, so...” She shrugs lightly at that, a sheepish smile.

“Right. Well, I admit I’m still a bit resentful that after everything I’ve been through, I still didn’t get even a hint of those powers.”

Kara takes her hand again, tentatively this time. She probably thinks Lena will pull away.

She doesn’t.

“There’s been a rumor for ages that you’re immortal. Are you saying that’s not true? From what I’ve read, humans have a shorter life span than us. Your species only live about 85 years or so.”

“I’ve heard the rumor and, yes, the average human lifespan is shorter than a Kryptonian’s.”

“You look pretty darn good for your age if you’re preparing to join Rao in a few cycles.”

Lena has to laugh. She lets Kara lead her away from the platform and down to the street. They walk hand in hand.

“So you’re not immortal?”

“It remains to be seen.”

“Then maybe our white sun did give you a hint of something after all.”

“Maybe. I have yet to ascertain the cause.”

“I could help you with your study, should you choose to explore it further.”

“You want to study me?”

Kara blushes. “I...I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant—“

“I know what you meant.”

Silence falls between them.

“You’re still holding my hand.”

“You’re still letting me.”

“It’s strange.” She stares. “You’re different. You’re so different than you were before, a completely different person, but somehow...when I look at you, you’re exactly who you’ve always been.”

“Are you different now too?”

“Yes.” She shrugs. “I think so anyway.”

“But we’ve still found each other. That means something.”

“Are you sure you want to hear this? You might be angry with me. I...I made choices that changed your life. A great number of lives.”

“I want to hear everything. But even if I do get angry, I won’t leave. I promise.”

Lena starts at that. How could she know exactly—? The realization hits her. 

“My fears...you feel them right now, don’t you?”

Kara nods. “I won’t betray you, Lena. Whatever mistakes I’ve made before...in that other life...I won’t make them again.”

“You’ll make other mistakes.”

“Of course!” She laughs. “I’m gifted, but hardly perfect. You’ll make mistakes too, even if you are the Great New Dawn.”

“Two prodigies...” Lena raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know how people stand us. We must be insufferable to be around.”

“I can’t be held accountable for the jealousy of others.”

Lena chuckles. “Good to know you’re as competitive as ever.”

“And you? Are you competitive as well?”

“On occasion...when it comes to the right things.”

Kara grins. “Tell me more about Earth.”

“Earth or...you on Earth?”

“Both. Or just one. Whatever you like. We have all the time we need. We’ll get to it eventually.”

“Kara?”

“Yes?”

“What do you want?”

“You.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do.”

“You’re not afraid?”

“Of losing you? Yes, I’m afraid. I thought I did when you left me in the Grove that night.”

“It’s different this time though.”

“Different how?”

“You were afraid before. O-on Earth. So you lied to me. Hid things from me. You were afraid I’d reject you.”

“So I lost you anyway?”

“For a while.”

“I know who I am and I want to share all of that with you. I’m afraid I’ll lose you if I don’t. Do you think that means I learned my lesson with a second chance?”

“Even though you don’t remember the first?”

Kara tilts her head thoughtfully.  “Are you familiar with the theological concept of reincarnation?”

Lena nods.

“Many species and cultures detail it differently, but the belief that a soul does not reside in an afterlife fascinates me. The idea that one could instead be reborn and is destined to learn new lessons with each life that it failed to learn in the last. Maybe we found a way to do that without needing to die at all.”

“Are you sure you’re the First Order of the Science Council? Because that sounds an awful lot like preaching I’ve heard from the Religious Guild. You’re in the wrong profession.”

Kara rolls her eyes. “If anything, I should have joined the Artisans. But it’s too late for that.”

Lena’s quiet for a moment. They’re walking along streets she’s never seen before and doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter.

“I think I’m learning...” she says softly, “that it’s never too late. If you want something enough, it’s never too late.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Lena looks around. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“No, I thought you did.”

“No. I guess we’re lost then.”

Kara shrugs with a charming, sunny smile that lights her whole face. It’s the one that Lena hasn’t seen in over 40 years and it takes her breath away.

“Oh well.” Kara squeezes Lena’s hand happily. “I suppose we’ll find our way together.”

#supergirl #supercorp #supercorp fanfic #supercorp fic #supercorp fanfiction #dont read this #im sorry #it was a rambling stream of conscious moment

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Alt S4 - Lena & Red Daughter

Red Daughter has no strength to fight as they press her into Alex's- no... Lex's machine. When the strap tightens around her chest, pinning her in place, she wishes it would continue to squeeze, compressing her ribs and lungs until there was nothing left of her.

Lex deceived her.

Lex... despised her.

All she knew is no longer real, and without her nation, her Alex, her purpose... she has no reason to exist.

She is not the antithesis to Supergirl's facetious hero.

She is not the true hero to save America from its own folly.

She is nothing.

Soon, that much will be true.

Through her tears she hears a door slam, and sees the blurry shape of Otis Graves approaching with a body slung across his shoulders. He slips the boneless figure to the concrete floor without ceremony, rolling his shoulders in ignorance of the moan pulled from his roughly handled cargo.

"You really did a number on her, boss," Otis remarks, nudging his prisoner with the toe of his boot. "Your own sister, too."

Lena?

Red Daughter blinks, and the cloud of her despair parts long enough for her to recognize the limp form below her, bruised features and all.

"Lena," she breathes. Her gaze snaps to Lex. "You can't!"

"The tin soldier has a heart after all," her mentor delivers coldly. "How quaint."

"Do what you want with me! You may hate Kryptonians, but Lena is your family--!"

"Family who laid in wait to kill me! Would have worked too, if not for your... gifts." He clenches his fist, and his veins pulse faintly purple through his skin.

A faint moan issues from Lena, fighting to return to consciousness. Before she can so much as pry open her heavy eyelids, Lex snaps his fingers and gestures sharply to the empty canister beside Red Daughter.

"Load her in."

Otis grabs Lena by the throat and drags her towards the machine. For the first time, Red Daughter starts to struggle.

"Let her go! Alex, please--!"

"My name. Is not. ALEX!!" His fist slams into the console, denting the steel panel with the force of it.

He turns towards her, and the hatred in his gaze saps what little strength Red Daughter has reclaimed.

"We are not family, kryptonian. You're not even a person. You're an echo who has outlived her purpose. My sister," he says, glancing to where Otis is latching the constrictive strap across Lena's chest, "she was family."

"Has she outlived her purpose too?"

Lex's gaze cools into something almost akin to affection.

"No," he says calmly. "But I won't risk her fulfilling hers."

What that means, he doesn't deign to explain to his false daughter. He turns back to his work, and Otis retreats to linger behind him, now idle and bored.

Red Daughter turns her attention to Lena, and finds the object of so many weeks' fascination studying her with eyes just shy of focused.

"Sup'rgirl?"

The name slurs on Lena's lips, but jolts Red Daughter to the core. She hesitates, and in the moment of silence that follows Lena's brain fills in the pieces.

"Oh," comes the sigh, strained by bruised ribs. "You're her."

Red Daughter hears accusation in the words, though Lena's brow furrows only in confusion. "Can't you just... vwoosh?"

The childlike sound would almost bring tears to Red Daughter's eyes, but she is empty of those too.

"I do not have my powers."

"Solar flare," Lena murmurs, blinking into greater clarity. Her gaze focuses on Red Daughter anew, and something new sparks in a chest thought empty. "It's okay. We just have to hold out."

"Hold out...?" Hold out what? Their hands are trapped, and Red Daughter is certain that Lex would sooner chop their hands off rather than give them something they asked for.

"Until Supergirl gets here."

"I'm afraid you'll be dead long before that happens, sis," Lex declares, striding towards Lena's berth with a smirk on his lips. Red Daughter can hardly believe his features were ever so soft as she glimpses in her memories.

But Lena seems familiar with this version of Lex, and doesn't quail under the dark intent he regards her with.

"Then my only regret will be that I wasn't able to watch her hand your ass to you on a Kryptonian platter."

The crack of Lex's hand against her cheek wrenches her head to the side. Red Daughter lunges forward, only to be caught against the strap pinning her in place. Lena flinches when Lex's hand lifts again, but this time it caresses reddening skin with a touch gentler than...

In that moment, Red Daughter realizes that for all his smiles, all his gentle features, Lex has never touched her.

Not once.

"For what it's worth," Lex tells his sister, "I will think of you fondly."

"And the world will only ever think of you as a madman."

"Good bye, ace."

At a press of a button, the top of Lena's chamber starts to lower, slowly moving to seal her within. Lex senses Red Daughter's stare, and turns a new smirk on her.

"Don't worry," he says in a mockery of comfort, "you won't have to live without her for very long."

He presses a second button, commanding the lid to descend over her own chamber as well. When the process is complete and Red Daughter is sealed alone within the darkness, it feels familiar, somehow.

Somewhere, muffled as though from far away, machinery comes to life with a deceptively pleasant hum.

At least, she considers silently to herself as the memory of her chamber in Kasnia flashes through her mind, with its images of Lena's smiles, Lena's happiness, plastered to the walls-- at least she is not alone.

Then the screaming starts.

---

Red Daughter expects the pain to come to her first, but the hum of machinery comes not from her canister, but Lena's.

The sound of her agony returns what Red Daughter's anguish stole: her powers.

In an instant she tears free from her restraints and through the metal facing of her prison. Faster than anyone can blink, Otis is dead, Lex is unconscious, and Red Daughter's fist punches through the console Lex had used to to activate the machine.

The screams die with the machine, but the silence is even more chilling.

She wrenches her fist free from the sparking console and rips Lena's coffin apart, and the next thing Red Daughter knows, Lena isn't confined to a picture or partially obscured through a crowd. Lena is in her arms and she is dying.

Tears of blood course down Lena's cheeks, and oozes from her nose and ears. When Lena coughs, blood bubbles to her lips, freckling Red Daughter's chin with every choking breath.

Lena would not be the first person Red Daughter has lost, but she is the one that reveals the truth: for all Lex has called her a hero, she has never learned how to save a life.

---

Lena saves her own life. Or rather, a man named Jack Spheer does, even from beyond the grave. It is his nanobots who support Lena's internal organs until they can heal from the cellular damage done by Lex's machine.

Red Daughter knows surrendering Lena to the DEO means surrendering herself, but she doesn't hesitate. When she delivered Lena to the organization that sought to kill Red Daughter, she was fully prepared to meet her temporarily thwarted fate-- so long as Lena survives.

But Lena's hand remains locked around Red Daughter's, and so Alex-- the real Alex, real and tangible and breathtaking-- belays the arrest in favor of treating Lena. And though an armed guard stands outside the door, she is permitted to stay with Lena after the nanobots are administered and a coma induced to speed their work.

And so Red Daughter sits, her world narrowed to a single bed and a single occupant, until her mirror image enters the room on quiet feet.

"Thank you," comes the ready gratitude, relieved and warm and all the things Red Daughter doesn't deserve. "For saving her."

Red Daughter doesn't respond.

How can she, when she is no longer certain who has done the saving?

#this was going to be a prompt fill #but it went a little sideways and didn't actually fill the prompt anymore #so here-- have it anyways #might do a follow up #might not #does this count as supercorp? #it's meant to be supercorp #pre-reveal #read more #let me know what you think #feedback gives me life

[vxmorpheus]

It’s been 30 years

since she first landed, and 15 years since we lost contact with her and she died. We knew the day was going to come at some point, but it didn’t make it any easier. We watched her progress, enjoyed her photos, and played music to wake her up. Now, here we were, on Mars and I had a plan. I wanted to find her, not just for myself, but for everyone who cared, everyone who cried at our loss, everyone who wondered where she was and what state of disrepair she was in. 

I quietly influenced where we should land, my crew had no idea what I planned on doing. I wasn’t even sure if they remembered her. Sure, over the past 15 years there were many others like her… but they weren’t her. She was only supposed to live for 90 days and she survived for 15 years. She shared so much with us… pictures, data, and she even discovered water (in the form of ice of course), and she shared her life with us from millions of miles away. I was determined to find her, to show her… we still remember everything you did for us.

We landed between Sunderland Point and Spirit point, not far from where she was last known to be, it took a couple of weeks to set up camp and set up our land rover, but when everything was said and done… we were here. At nights, I would stare out the window at the moons, the huge sky of stars, and the vast dry dusty horizon, it was beautiful. This is what she saw every night before ‘going to sleep’, this is what she lived under, this is where she had lived for 15 years, this is where she lied in permanent slumber. Being able to share this beauty and experience with others was a gift… But she was alone her entire life on Mars and she was alone when she died, in a physical sense. We were there but we couldn’t be there with her. She deserved to come back, she may be unable to come back to working order or back to Earth… but she deserved to come back into the human hands that built her, and loved her for what she was and what she did. The hands that played her music every day to wake her from her coma and sent the final message of I’ll Be Seeing You in hopes that maybe, one day, we will see her again. 

In the morning, I told the crew I was going out to explorer. They told me to be careful, to not stray too far from camp, and to come back before nightfall. Getting on the land rover and driving around was… amazing, weird… alien, yet it felt as if I were driving in a desert on Earth. The land was vast, the terrain was difficult, it took hours to thoroughly search the small area I had marked for day one. In the end, she wasn’t there. She wasn’t anywhere I looked in the week that followed. I wanted to give up… but I couldn’t. She didn’t give up after 90 days, and neither will I. The search continued, I was asked questions by my crew about what I was doing. I wanted to tell them, but I was worried they would think I was stupid or would tell me to give up and that there was no hope in finding her, so… I told them I was mapping out the surrounding area, which in a sense is true. I was mapping out the area, just not for the reason they thought.

Days passed… then weeks… then months… with no luck. Not a single sign of her. But I still didn’t give up. I didn’t want to give up on my personal mission. It might sound weird, but I didn’t want to give up on her. I wanted her to be back with the people who cared and not at the hands of a merciless landscape. The sun was 3 hours from setting and I was on my way back from another failed exploration. Could she have moved? Could she have wandered aimlessly, searching for a way to communicate to us again, only to finally succumb to the dust storm? No… no that sounded stupid… right? But… no, it’s dumb to think such things. It makes no sense. I shook my head and looked off to my left, knowing the terrain by heart by now, I felt comfortable looking away for a time. I needed to clear my thoughts before getting back to base. 

I idly hummed a song to myself, watching the land go by as I drove. I slammed on the breaks, almost causing the rover to tip over, but I swore I had just seen something. I tore my hands away from the steering wheel and slowly got out of the vehicle. I stepped alongside it, staring out to where I saw something reflect, and that’s when I saw the shine again. Taking a sharp inhale, I slowly walked over to the reflective object. It was covered in a heavy amount of dust, but some had blown off from a recent wind storm… I looked down at the large object if it weren’t for the storm, I would have never seen it… it just blended in with everything so well. I knelt down and dusted it off, the air caught in my lungs, and tears formed in my eyes. 

It was her. It had to be her.

I desperately cleaned off everything I could and tried pulling at her to get her tires free from the 15 years of accumulated dust and dirt but she was stuck pretty hard. I crouched down to my knees and grabbed a rock, stabbing and digging at the dirt around her tires, and by the time I freed them… the sun was setting and it was getting cold. Running to the land rover, I dug around for rope to hitch her up to it. I hooked the rope to the rover and walked over to her, looking for the best way to tie her up and not break the fragile machinery. The only way I thought I could do this was by tying her up by her box body, the WEB. I was as careful as possible and even more careful as I towed her back to base. I was freezing cold by the time I saw base, the last bits of the sun just beginning to disappear. There were lights outside moving around, probably the crew doing last minute checks before heading to bed… That’s when a loud radio buzz came over my com before the captain’s voice yelled at me, asking where the hell I was, why I was so late coming back. The yelling continued until they showed their lights onto her, then there was a long silence that overcame them.

Once I parked the rover and got out, I fell down to my knees. I couldn’t feel my legs, I hadn’t moved them once on the way back. Everyone rushed over and helped me to the base to warm me up. I was setting into hypothermia, I couldn’t process anything anymore at that point. They threw so many questions at me, I just couldn’t understand anything they were saying, all that I thought about was, “at least she was found finally and she wasn’t alone. At least I’m not alone either…” before passing out. I thought I was dying… well… I guess, in a way, I was dying, but… since I wasn’t alone… since I had people around me who cared… they helped me. They saved me. When I came to some time later, a couple of days later, I was once again questioned on my reckless actions and what I had brought back to base. I told them everything. I told them how I searched for her every day, how I found her, why I wanted to find her, why I risked my stupid life to bring her back, who she was…

They didn’t believe me at first, so we took her to the garage with the land rover and began looking at her parts. We cleaned her out, checked all the hardware, and somehow… we were able to run diagnostics on her. She should have been a heap of junk on the Martian wasteland, but here she was… still in, mostly, one-piece and somewhat functional. We ignored everything for a while and just worked on her for a couple of days. Replacing a small part of her solar panels, shining light onto it, hoping for something… anything… but she didn’t wake up. We checked her body, checked everything we could… and retried again. We watched the computer eagerly, waiting for something, and there was something. There was a small bit of charge, we waited for hours but it hardly went up any. 

She somehow charged to a small 5% and connected to our computer. We began receiving data slowly before she started to smoke, making us panic. One of the crew went to take the light away, but before he did… we received a message… or rather… she received our final message. I’ll Be Seeing You played for her while we sat there and watched…

I'll find you

In the morning sun

And when the night is new

I'll be looking at the moon

But I'll be seeing you…

Then… she powered down for the last time. Nothing we did brought her back. But… it’s for the best… it was time to let her go. It was her time to go. She stayed fighting for so long… just long enough for someone to find her… so she could hear our last message to her. Our love song for her. Our good-bye song to her. We all started crying as soon as we realized she was gone for good. Even though she was ‘just a machine’, she still meant things to us. We humanized her, gave her a name, watched her explore and discover new things, watched her age, and now… with a final good-bye… we watched her die.

We humanize the most mundane and inanimate things, we love them and care about them as if they were alive… and when they die or get destroyed… we grieve for them. We grieve for the humanity we put onto them, we grieve for something that felt like somebody, and that’s ok. It’s ok to grieve or something that seems so… abnormal or stupid… it’s not stupid or abnormal in the end though. It’s only human to love such a thing so deeply that you humanize it and miss it when it’s gone. And it hurts if we feel we never had the proper good-bye with them.

Knowing that Oppy, Opportunity, died, despite many attempts to wake her up, and then get sent the final song I’ll Be Seeing You is… touching, comforting even, but it still makes me incredibly sad. She was long since passed when we sent the final message, I’m not even sure if she truly received the good-bye she oh so deserved, which makes me cry even more to think about.

But maybe

Just maybe

We will be seeing you again one day.

#Oppy #opportunity #rip oppy #Ill be seeing you #nasa #space #opportunity rover #mars #short story #its ok to say good bye #its ok to be sad #creative writing #I'm not happy with this #I liked my first draft better #but tumblr snapped it away #i hope you like this

[samedmunds]

My litany thoughts on 1999 cult classic strategy video game Sid Meier's Alpha Centauri

Alpha Centauri is a game of the early Civilization variety from the EA golden age and ranks very highly in my top ten. While you probably heard of it if you were playing video games around the turn of the century, I've found members of my age cohort to be tragically unfamiliar with this masterpiece.

Alpha Centauri is an unofficial sequel to Civilization II, a game where the only way to way to win is either completely eliminate all competitors to the last city or, rather more easily, send a spaceship loaded with colonists to the title star system. Shortly after leaving home, the ship loses contact with Earth, which would make sense to a player of Civilization II where the bonuses to science and trade from democracies evaporate when technology ends, upon which point all the AIs revolt and become militant fundamentalist theocracies and climate change rapidly destroys the planet, leaving the player with an endgame that is literally 1984. Either way, when the already strained ship arrives at the Alpha Centauri system an unknown partisan assassinates the captain of the UNS Unity and the population fractures into seven opposing factions before firing the colony pods and exploring an inconveniently hostile planet.

The player starts here, in typical Civ fashion: a scout, settler, and absolutely no technology to speak of. That isn't to say you are a bunch of primitives, all your units start out with some approximation to modern guns and judging by the amazing quotes and wonder videos your society is well beyond the 21st century--more on the story later. The gameplay is incredibly well-balanced in spite of its age and quirks (with the exception of the freight-train progression of Yang). Rapid early expansion as the bountiful Peacekeepers may leave you at serious risk to the relentlessly martial Spartans, who are in turn threatened by the uber-specialized technocratic University--but be careful to underestimate the backwards Lord's Believers, their probe teams will just as quickly rob you of your gains. The Morganites can afford to sparsely defend their home if they're willing to pay off their aggressors, but they'll struggle expand over great swaths of territory without irking civil unrest drone riots from corruption. Meanwhile the Gaian Acolytes can harness the permanently-dangerous mindworms to great effect from the beginning of the game. Yang just... builds. And keeps building, and next thing you know he's conquered the Peacekeepers and turned Miriam into nothing more than a puppet and where are all these cruise missiles are coming from?

In short, the strategic design of this game is nothing less than a work of art, but that isn't to say it doesn't have its anachronisms. The User Interface has taken its inspiration from early versions of Microsoft Word and it rapidly pays off to know the hotkeys. The wonder videos are resolution locked and can sometimes cause problems depending on your display configuration. The unit creation system is simultaneously wonderful and horrendous. It allows me to create special long-range nerve gas bombers that eradicate cities shortly before orbitally-dropping specially-trained garrisons to quash all resistance. On the other hand, if you do not accept the cumbersome slew of computer-generated options, keeping your new weapons systems up to date with your latest technology (especially when playing as Zakharov) rapidly becomes a chore.

That said, there are a variety of features in the game that I think deserve to make a reappearance in the Civ Games. The pick-your-government system is incredibly balanced and fun to roleplay. You can't get away with crimes against humanity when solar storms hit in Civilization VI, nor can you weaponise climate change to flood your rivals cities, or strategically terraform to alter weather patterns and deny your neighbors arable land. At the bare minimum, we should be given the option to nerve staple rebelling cities when our control runs out!

All that said, there is also the story to contend with. One is at first tempted to think that a 4x strategy game with a marked emphasis on replayability would necessarily have a tacked-on story, if one at all. After all, the point is for the player to create it through their actions, not have it spoonfed to them. The majority of what you learn about your world that isn't printed in numbers and small pictures on the mapscreen is through blurbs that accompany each discovered technology or new building. The aforementioned wonders even have their adorable early-CG renderings, sometimes mixed in with some experimental film footage. There are occasional interludes that describe the mindworms and machinations of Planet, but the bulk of the wordage comes from epigrams of the faction leaders and the occasional bit of Nietzsche or Plato. It's so good that I can't help but stop and listen to CEO Nbwadibuke Morgan ramble on about supply chain economics or Sister Miriam's apocalyptic warnings every single time. Take some examples.

Proper care and education for our children remains a cornerstone of our entire colonization effort. Children not only shape our future; they determine in many ways our present. Men and women work harder knowing their children are safe and close at hand, and never forget that, with children present, parents will defend their home to the death!

--Col. Corazon Santiago, "Planet: A Survivalist's Guide"

Or perhaps, a more on the nose one:

"The Academician's private residences shall remain off-limits to the Genetic Inspectors. We possess no retroviral capability, we are not researching retroviral engineering, and we shall not allow this Council to violate faction privileges in the name of this ridiculous witch hunt!

--Fedor Petrov, Vice Provost for University Affairs Accompanies the Retroviral Engineering technology

The game often doesn't directly tell you what Retroviral engineering is, nor does it labor to explain just what having someone nerve stapled means, or the precise function of the Recycling Tanks, but through its quotation it beautifully circumlocutes the world you are shaping--and being shaped by. It really never pulls any of its punches, even if its just on Organic Superlube--great stuff--and I still catch muself quoting it regularly.

Ursula LeGuin once wrote

"Science fiction is often described, and even defined, as extrapolative. The science fiction writer is supposed to take a trend or phenomenon of the here-and-now, purify and intensify it for dramatic effect, and extend it into the future. 'If this goes on, this is what will happen.' [...] This may explain why many people who read science fiction describe it as 'escapist,' but when questioned further, admit they do not read it because 'it's so depressing.'"

Alpha Centauri is absolutely extrapolative fiction and very firmly rooted in the 1990s and I love it. It was released in the Aaron Sorkin TV, pre-9/11 days where the word Internet was more often than not followed by the words, "is like an information superhighway" and it absolutely no efforts are made to cover it up. The main factions are a cross-section of the New Millenium's hopes and anxieties. A New Russia that went a very different path before Putin took over, a cheerful clan of ruthless Western capitalists hellbent on putting Morganvision on every network set, a group of vaguely Scottish free-love peaceniks hellbent on defending the most-of-the-time incredibly hostile environment. There's the Second-Amendment preaching Spartans or the optimistically-influential UN which, judging by its naming scheme for its bases, seems to dedicate entire cities to bureaucratic agencies. The All-American Christian fundamentalists don't entirely butt heads with the frighteningly powerful Human-Hive (if your country calls their cities names like "Huddling of the People" and "Paradise Swarming" you might not be the good guys). The expansion also brings in more dynamic characters like the Information Wants to be Free! data angels Brian Reynolds very clearly came up with after watching Swordfish and Hackers back to back or the Nautilus Pirates who have no right to be as fun as they are.

The visions of the future are at once both anachronistic and prophetic; while elements may come off as cheese, I see it as a sort of window to the past, a way to examine what was once (and sometimes still is) on our mind. All in all, I give Sid Meier's Alpha Centauri 4 out of 5 stars and a definite all-time favorite, warts and all. You can pick it and its expansion up for $6 on Gog.com and play it through a built-in emulator that works for most systems. If you're willing to brave a dated interface and an older-fashioned gameplay style, I would definitely recommend it.

#pc gaming #video games #gaming #civilization #writing #ursula leguin #alpha centauri #sid meier's alpha centauri #sid meier's civilization #the drones need you #they look up to you #game retro #game recs #game review

[victorluvsalice]

Sims Challenge Wednesday: Fallout 4

And for my second challenge -- one themed around the settlement-building mechanics of Fallout 4! Because that felt like a better fit than trying to do the main plot. . . here we go!

Fallout 4 Sims 4 Challenge

Premise: It was all going – fine, you suppose. Sure, you were living in an embarrassing imperialistic and xenophobic nation, which was fighting a terrible war with the other superpower over the last of the oil reserves in the world, but you yourself were doing good. You had a nice home in a little suburb, you could take advantage of personal domestic robots, you were getting enough to eat despite the food shortages – all in all, your life was pretty okay!

And then some asshole had to go and drop the bombs. By sheer luck, you’d been admitted to nearby Vault 111 mere minutes before the alarm sounded, and you made it there just in time. The staff there was very friendly too, telling you that your new life underground could start just as soon as you were decontaminated in these weirdly-cold pods. . .

210 years later, you wake to discover that:

a) you were totally lied to and you’ve been frozen for the past two centuries as part of some mad experiment

b) you are the only survivor of that experiment – everyone else’s pod failed, and a revolt by the security staff six months into your freezing means they all either died or skedaddled long before you woke up

c) oh, and the revolt was over dwindling food supplies, so you can’t even stay in the vault, you’ll starve

So out you venture into the world, to find – hmmm. People seem to be surviving, but they could probably use some help. Good thing you’ve got nothing but time on your hands. Time and the desire to make proper homes for the new friends you’re finding. Time to build a settlement and make it something this post-War world can be proud of!

Now if only you could shake the feeling you ought to be looking for someone. . .

This is a challenge loosely based around being the Sole Survivor of Fallout 4, specifically being the General of the Minutemen and building settlements. The goals are to build up the world of Brindleton bay from some ramshackle farms into a bunch of thriving settlements, create and manage a club for helping others and improving the world, and defeat the nasties that are making life harder for everyone else.

Packs required: Get Together, Get To Work, Cats & Dogs, City Living, Eco Lifestyle, Cottage Living, Island Living, Discover University, StrangerVille

Your Sim: Create your “Sole Survivor” in CAS. They can be a Young Adult or Adult, and have any traits. However, they are only allowed to have two outfits – a set of everyday wear (for everyday, formal, athletic, party, hot weather, and cold weather), and a set of underwear (for sleeping and swimwear). They will get more clothing as they survive out in the world.

Optional: Rather than start right out of the vault, you may play a brief one-week “pre-War” period with your Sole Survivor to gain some skills and whatnot. The Military or Law career is recommended if you want to follow the actual given backstories of the Fallout 4 Sole Survivors (Nate and Nora respectively), but you’re welcome to give them whatever pre-War occupation you like.

Their World: Set up the rest of the save file as per these guidelines:

Go to Brindleton Bay and wipe out all the existing architecture – you can keep the pre-made families, but not their houses. The apocalypse has happened, and the world has got to look the part! (If you really want, you can keep the lighthouse on Deadgrass Isle, but give a makeover to look wrecked.)

Pick one lot in either Sable Square, Whiskerman’s Wharf, or Cavalier’s Cove to serve as your “Diamond City” marketplace. This should include a small bar, a small clothing store, a grocery stall, a food stall, and whatever other stalls and vending machines you think your Sole Survivor could use to survive out in the wasteland.

In a different neighborhood to “Diamond City,” pick another lot to serve as your “Goodneighbor.” Build a lounge there (The Third Rail) with a bar, microphone for a singer, and plenty of seating. If you want, you can double up and have your lounge in the basement and put a little spa-type building (The Memory Den) up top. Feel free to throw in a goodies stall too.

All remaining mainland lots should be residential, and need to have the “Off The Grid” and “Simple Living” lot challenges enabled. You may enable other lot challenges or traits at your discretion (“Filthy” is recommended, given the state of post-nuke Boston in Fallout 4).

Pick two residential lots on the mainland (in different neighborhoods) to serve as “raider outposts.” Build up these lots to have three or four beds under minimal shelter, and off-the-grid compatible appliances. Each of these lots should have three or four Sims on it, all with either the “Mean,” “Hot-Headed,” “Kleptomaniac,” and/or “Slob” traits. Put all these Sims into a “Raider” club (you may choose your own gang name) and set their club activities to encourage them to “Be Mean,” “Fight,” “Swipe Items,” and “Sabotage Items.”

Set up the remaining residential lots with the bare minimum for survival: If the lot has Sims living on it, make a small hut for them to sleep in, with just enough beds for everyone, and one outhouse with a toilet and sink. No working lights, and they must have only a small fridge or cooler. If the lot doesn’t have Sims living on it, you can only have two beds maximum, and no food source at all. You can build whatever structure you wish there. Regardless of whether or not it is occupied, each residential lot must have a woodworking table, and an outdoor cooking station of some description. Other crafting items (candle-making, juice-fizzing, fabrication machine, robotics station, etc) may be placed at your discretion.

Choose an uninhabited lot for your Sole Survivor to start on – once they are moved in, set their money to zero.

Goals: Your Sole Survivor is looking to complete the following:

Build up every empty residential lot in the world so it can support at least five Sims, one pet, and one robot helper

Improve the occupied residential lots so everyone has adequate food, water, and shelter

Complete the Master Maker aspiration

Complete the Leader of the Pack aspiration as the “General of the Minutemen” and build up the club to full strength by befriending the other “settlers” in the world

Defeat all of the raiders in fights and force their club to disband

Rules:

Your Sole Survivor cannot have a normal job, as those just plain don’t exist anymore. They must earn their “caps” via selling things they have found or made (or, with the right traits, swiped) to other Sims, or via doing Odd Jobs for the people already living in the post-War society.

Your Sole Survivor is only allowed to purchase basic build mode items (e.g., walls and wallpaper, floors and flooring, roofs, doors, windows, columns), animal sheds, chicken coops, and basic pet supplies (food bowls and beds) directly from the catalog. Everything else must either be obtained by scavenging (dumpster diving for items or harvesting wild plants), building it themselves (making furniture at the woodworking table or using the fabricator), or “purchasing” it at the DC marketplace (either by genuinely buying it from a stall or visiting the lot and spending money on SOMETHING to represent a shopping trip). This includes clothing – you may either visit the marketplace once every three days to buy a new outfit for any category, or “scavenge” one by finding something that could reasonably contain clothing from a dumpster.

In order to increase the variety of their scavenging, your Sole Survivor may visit the Bramblewood of Henford-on-Bagley, or go on brief vacations to Granite Falls. Other locations depend on if you can make them look suitably post-apocalyptic (for example, creating a post-apocalypse Newcrest or Forgotten Hollow shouldn’t be too hard, but I think you’d be hard-pressed to justify San Myshuno!).

Your Sole Survivor must build up every lot in their world to the standards of a good settlement – enough food, water, and sheltered beds for all residents, along with power for items that may need it: Food is produced by farming crops and owning livestock. A small crop counts as 0.5 units of food; a tree or over-sized crop counts as one unit of food; a chicken coop with at least four chickens, a cow, or a llama counts as two units of food. (Yes, you are strongly encouraged to regularly trade animals for meat – or, if you feel bad, ingredients and produce.) You must have enough units of food to cover all residents (so a minimum of six). Water is produced by setting up dew collectors or water generators. Each dew collector or water generator counts as one unit of water. You must have enough units of water to cover all residents (again, a minimum of six). Sheltered beds are beds in an enclosed area with a roof. There must be one bed per Sim – you may use double beds, but they only count as one bed for one Sim! (Think of it as making sure there’s “spare beds” for anyone passing through who may stay overnight – Fallout 4 has traveling traders, after all!) Power is generated by generators, solar panels, and wind turbines – each provides one unit of power. You don’t technically need any power on your lots, but it will make your settlements happier if you can actually power things like salvaged TVs and computers.

Once a settlement is set up with all the basics, if it is empty, your Sole Survivor should go out and find homeless Sims to populate it. You may move the Sims in normally, or ask them to be roommates – though given your Sole Survivor will be moving to each settlement in turn to “renovate” it, it’s recommended you move in at least one Sim normally to look after everyone. Once you have all the human Sims, your Sole Survivor should adopt a stray cat or dog, then build a helpful robot to help with gardening, repairs, or generally just keeping people happy. Optional: If you have the Dream Home Decorator game pack, you may, at your discretion, allow your Sole Survivor to join THAT career and make use of it to renovate the lots of settlers who already live in the world. Given how buggy the pack is reputed to be, though, I’m not sure how much I recommend this! (Though I guess if you’re just willing to go room by room, since those gigs seem to work relatively well. . .)

Your Sole Survivor needs to form the “Minutemen” club to help out others in the wastes, by befriending other Sims living in the world and inviting them to join. The club’s required activities should include any of the activities from the following list: Be Friendly Tend Animals Tend Garden Fish Woodwork Work Out Build Robots Fabricate Objects Fight (Raiders)

Related, your Sole Survivor needs to get rid of the Raiders making life harder for the people just trying to survive in this world! Have regular fights between your Sole Survivor and their Minutemen versus the Raiders and keep track of the winners and losers – once each Raider has been bested in at least one battle, disband the club. Your Sole Survivor will then take over their outposts to turn them into functioning settlements. The Raiders themselves can either be moved out or rehabilitated and allowed to live in the new world so long as they don’t start too many fights.

Optional Hard Mode – Expand The Map: More space, more problems – rather than setting up in Brindleton Bay, set up in WINDENBURG. You are allowed two community lots to build up “Diamond City” and “Goodneighbor” in this instance, and a third of your choosing.

Optional Hard Mode – Join The Clubs: Your Minutemen are not the only faction out there in the Wasteland – there’s three others, and oh look, they all seem to hate each other. Set up three other clubs, one each for each of the mainland neighborhoods:

The Railroad – required activities “Debate,” “Hack,” “Be Mean (Institute),” “Be Mean (Brotherhood of Steel).”

The Brotherhood of Steel – required activities “Swipe Objects,” “Work Out,” “Be Mean (Railroad),” “Fight (Institute)”

The Institute – required activities “Build Robots,” “Use Science Objects,” “Fight (Railroad),” “Fight (Brotherhood of Steel)”

All members of these clubs should live and hangout on the same lot (The Old North Church and its basement for the Railroad; the Boston Airport for the Brotherhood (though if you think you can make the Prydwen, go for it); the CIT Ruins and the labs beneath it for the Institute). Make sure they all dislike each other, and make them all “invitation only” clubs. Your Sole Survivor needs to join all of these clubs, work toward becoming the leader of each other, then decide who stays and who goes based on your “ending:”

Railroad Ending – Disband the Institute and the Brotherhood of Steel once you’re the leader. Exile the members of each from the world.

Brotherhood of Steel Ending – Disband the Institute and the Railroad once you’re the leader. Exile the members of each from the world.

Institute Ending – Disband the Railroad and the Brotherhood of Steel once you’re the leader. Exile the members of each from the world.

Minuteman Ending – Disband the Institute once you’re the leader – at your discretion, the members may keep their lot, though they have to give up their basement labs and live in the ruins up top. The other two clubs may remain depending on how friendly their members are with your own Minutemen club. Check everyone’s relationships with each other – if the majority of either club hates the majority of the Minutemen, that club must be disbanded.

Given the size of this hard mode, I would recommend running it in tandem with “Expand the Map” above so you have more room to breathe with each club!

Optional Hard Mode – Automatron DLC: Create a placeholder Sim, get their Robotics up to ten, have them make a Servo, then kill the Sim and either let the Servo live on the lot alone or have them wander as a homeless NPC. In order to get access to the Robotics station, your Sole Survivor must find and befriend this Servo.

Optional Hard Mode – Vault-Tec DLC: One of your lots is not a traditional settlement, but an unfinished Vault-Tec vault! This settlement must be built entirely underground, and does not have any beds, water, or food when your Sole Survivor arrives. However, it does have at least three generators for power! Also, the first Sim you recruit to live there must have either the “Good” or the “Goofball” trait.

#fallout 4 #sims 4 #sims challenge #fallout 4 sims challenge #oh man this one took WAY longer to whip into shape #I KNEW what I wanted to do with it #but figuring out exactly what rules I wanted was tricky #but I'm decently happy with what resulted #again this is the 'rough draft' #feel free to tweak and adjust to your heart's content #this one's probably an especially hard challenge given the rules but #well hopefully if you like settlement building in Sims 4 #queued

[heresathreebee]

Brackish And Briny Waters (three)

[Ralph Lamont X Female Reader]

Summary: Spend the weekend painting the house with your husband. Previous Masterlist Next

Tags: 17+ | 1.6k words | Painting a house together, aka domestic stuff, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, pulling out, vague mention of rats.

AN: part 4 is gonna get angsty I just finished it

Anything involving greens was a heavy battle between you two, as Ralph seemed to have some kind of vendetta against them. The more blue you got, the less you fought and you eventually settled on a cool tone to use for the laundry room with a compromise to paint floral accents in a forest green tone along the edges of the back wall. You did find an exact replica of one of the original wallpapers in your second bedroom which you wanted to move to the living room. 

Colors selected and purchased, you went home starving and managed to scrape together some left overs with a side of rice to fuel you to start on the real work. You also bought brown paper to cover the solar room window holes until you can finish that room as its own project. 

Ralph rolls up his sleeves and puts on his bleach stained lounge pants to help. You lay down tarp and use up 3 rolls of tape to cover the kitchen and the dining room. Every window and door is wide open as you set your record player to play some 'whistle while you work' type of albums. And whistle he does that husband of yours, enjoying your company and shaking his hips dramatically to make you laugh. You two haven't had this much fun in so long it feels like. 

The summer citrus color you chose for the kitchen was really working for you. Ralph intended to put the wallpaper up in the other room to get 'double the work done' but still you find him working the same wall just to be close to you. You talk about missing that classic NYC pizza and dinner tomorrow and Ralph promises to ask his colleagues about any music shops in the area. 

You take a nap on the porch swing to get away from the paint fumes, an iced tea almost slipping from your hand. When dinner time comes, you cook while he details the removal of the old wallpaper from the dining room to work tomorrow. He's rambling about using a third coat on the living room paint and you don't think it's necessary but you know he'll agree with you come morning. 

"Come eat Ralph Vincent," you scold him for getting paint on the door frame but all is forgiven when he sweeps you into a hungry kiss. 

"I'd rather eat you right now." 

Ralph's flirtations are interrupted by his own ractious growling stomach and you laugh at him as you shove a plate into his hand. You eat together by the window in the living room. While it hasn't been painted yet, you have moved the furniture to the middle of the room and the fumes from the kitchen and dining room are still very strong. You hope it doesn't affect your sleep tonight (or hope it puts you down like a dose of melatonin). 

"Floyd's got a boat," Ralph tells you. "Says he takes it out on the water almost every day. Asked if I wanted to join him." 

"And are you?" You spin another forkful of angel hair spaghetti on your plate. 

Ralph slurps his like a child. "Am I what." 

"Are you going to join him on his boat?" You speak slowly and patronizingly. Ralph pinches your breast and almost makes you drop your plate. "No. I hate boats. I hate water. I don't want to be trapped for hours out there listening to him talk about paintings and philosophers, at least at work I can walk away." 

You chuckle. "I think Floyd sounds very interesting. What do you have against him?" 

"Nothing," he protests, "he talks too much. He's loquacious– that's what Justine calls him, and she's one to talk. If you must know, he's actually my favorite– he knows when to keep his nose out of my business." 

Dishes are made slightly more difficult with Ralph hanging off your shoulders. He peppers kisses up and down your neck, even finds a hickey from the morning that's started to fade and he remarks you. You dig your dripping fingers into his hair when he finds that spot on your neck and gives it some much needed attention. 

"Ralphie, baby, please," you whisper, "I could use your help with these." 

Dishes are done in record time and suddenly you're being whisked away to your bedroom (not that you were complaining). This room has the wallpaper that you had no intention to change aside from a fresh upgrade. Ralph takes your hand to spin you around and back you into your shared room all the way to the edge of the bed. Along the way he plants kisses from your hairline to your collarbone before he lets you fall atop the thick quilted bedspread. 

He gazes at you with a warm expression. The soft "my girl" he whisperes makes your heart swell. 

You expect him to pick up your legs and pull you by your knees to the outside of his hips (want him to even), but Ralph has other ideas it seems. It's not until his head is between your legs that you realize what he's up to (or rather down to). You gasp a lung full of air and grab him by the hair of his head. 

"Jesus," you sigh. 

Your husband's rumbling laughter causes your thighs to twitch. "Say my name, I'm the one doing all the work." 

"Yeah but you love– aha!" His beard brushes your inner thighs and leaves a delightful burning sensation in the deepest part of your soul. "Fuck…" 

You pull his hair harder and feel the soft locks stretch in your bloodless grasp. You can feel that immortal coil wind tighter and tighter inside you as Ralph devours you. You start chanting his name, the pitch of your voice beginning to crescendo the closer you get to that fire cracker ending. Ralph doubles his efforts, eager to have you fall apart on his tongue and fingers. 

He's more than making it up to you tonight. 

When you come, your body curls in on itself and your thighs lock around his head, effectively deafening him. You have no idea if he can hear the scream that rips from your body but you can't either as your eyes rolls back in ecstasy. 

You relax onto the bed and feel it dip with an additional weight to your side. You slide into Ralph's easy embrace, his dry hand coming up to hold you to him and just rest for a bit. 

"Fuck," you say huskily, "you're really good at that…" 

Ralph kisses you in answer, trying to deepen the connection but you have to twist away to catch your breath. Instead he plants lingering, sweet kisses on your neck, your cheek, your hair. His hand caresses your back in circles until you're nearly asleep from the motion. 

You flinch when you feel his nose brush against yours. "Baby… don't fall asleep." He sounds so sweet until his voice darkens and he says, "I'm not done with you yet." 

You lose track of time and all you can feel is Ralph Lamont. You're both covered in a sheen of sweat and his hips rock leisurely into yours. You don't know who grabbed who but your hands are tangled together and refuse to let go. Ralph's breath dusts over your neck, cool in contrast to the fire of his physical form pressed against you. You want to come again but you let him draw it out, let him love you tonight. 

"Ralph." You whisper in his ear, begging with no pressure to change pace. You're happy if he's happy and he is very content to keep thrusting into you to his peak and slow down, never stopping but always making you want more. Your man kisses you flush on the mouth and adjusts his position. His thrusts change. They grow from hypotonic and shallow to a little hard and more purposeful. You moan at the feeling, your legs locking around his hips to draw him deeper despite your exhaustion. 

Your orgasm washes over you nice and gentle, nothing like the force of the first time. You're conscious enough to lock your ankles around Ralph's hips, but it still doesn't prevent him from slipping his flushed and reddened cock out and finishing on your stomach as he always intended. You feel a strange tickle of disappointment as you come down from your high but push it to the back of your mind for later. 

Some way, somehow, Ralph still has enough strength to clean you both up and tuck you into bed. He curls around your body despite the near unbearable heat and falls fast asleep, his soft snores right behind your ear lulling you under the tide of sleep. 

DAY FOUR

"Morning." 

Your Saturday is awash of more painting and moving furniture with Ralph. He made coffee and eggs and brought it to you in bed, then dragged you down to look at the frayed wires on the clothes dryer machine. 

"Might be rodents," you muse. "I'll get some traps on Monday and find my soldering iron." 

"We'll get traps tonight," your husband countered, scratching his chin, "the sooner the better." 

You finish removing the old wallpaper in the living room and carefully put up the new one with little fuss. The kitchen still smells of paint but it's dry (it had better be, you left the windows open all night and it's freezing in here) so you put the kitchen utensils and appliances back and remove the protective tape and brown paper. Ralph is proud of the precision work done in the corners and edges, patting himself on the back and yours. 

"We did good babe," he said, "by this time next week, we'll have the whole house done!" 

You laugh at his optimism. There were still cobwebs to dust, cracks to spackle, floors to polish, windows to replace. This was the very reason he picked this place… 

To keep you busy. To keep your mind from wandering to those dark places that linger in your past. 

At least it was working.

Tagging people who might like to know: @werwulfy @hoodoo12 @escape-your-grape @go-commander-kim @fundamentally-lazy @mimiscappinisideblog do y'all wanna be here? If not lemme know please 😅 DM me

#three bees writing #ralph lamont #ralph lamont x reader #smut #things seen and heard au #vaguely ghost house au #black reader insert

[softly-savage-mint-yoongi]

Heat Seekers I

Genre: Dark Cyberpunk AU Pairing: Chanyeol x f.reader Words: 5k Fic Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. I’m serious people. If any of the chapter warnings are uncomfortable or triggering for you, please do not read this. Do so at your own discretion. Lots of angst and hurt, eventual smut. Chapter Warnings are below the cut. Author’s Note: There are some specific things in this fic that I’ve personally experienced, and some that I have not. Please understand my intention with this fic is a way of healing not just for myself but hopefully for others who unfortunately have experience with these types of situations. I did a lot of debating about whether or not I should even post this fic, and have spoken to a few individuals about it. Ultimately, with the intent of healing and moving past such trauma, it’s been decided OK to post. Please take my warnings seriously.

Chapter Warnings: Metaphoric descriptions of statutory rape. Assault, sexual assault. Gaslighting. Attempted murder. Brief mentions of substance abuse and prostitution. Minor character death.

You always believed there was no such thing as Heaven, but surely there was Hell. Several iterations of the grotesque and horrific afterlife; because humanity is a plague and that is what each of us deserved.

Perhaps in your younger days, you didn’t know it… no, even then you knew. Deep down inside you remember nothing of happiness or blessing. No memories of a person’s presence, actions, or words doing anything considerably good for anyone else. Certainly not without a motive. Certainly not out of empathy.

Before you could walk, throwing yourself into the repetitive ease of programmed machines and technology brought you peace. Technology is predictable and massively accessible to anyone. Technology is your comfort.

Electricity became nearly free and unlimited after the revolution that ended the War on Power in 2045. So long as the sun rose every day, there was never a shortage, and the resulting surge of technological advancements that boomed, as a result, have made most fairly new tech obsolete.

Sustainable, economic, and eco-friendly power became the way of the world. Wind energy became the norm. Buildings were now made from fiberglass solar panels, stronger, taller, and widely available, so every surface collected energy from the sun. Window glass collected heat to use in the winter, eliminating the need for natural gas heat altogether. More room for technology to grow. More surface area on the ground for parks and forests. Resorts built above an ocean’s surface harnessed the energy of the currents moving below their supports. Anything that wasn’t hovering in midair could collect energy from earthquakes and natural disasters alike, as long as humankind was lucky enough to have built something that could capture the energy and withstand the storm. The earth was well on its way to healing by the time you were born in 2051, and although humankind flourished along with it, the world was still a dangerous place. Corporations rose even higher and politics declined, dissolving into a place wrought with criminal activity and fear. Yes, humans were healthier, stronger, lived longer if they were lucky. But was that really such a good thing? Your parent would throw anything she didn’t find valuable at you whenever you locked her out of the apartment, and she was too weak to force her way inside. You were smart enough to know you would be no match in the likely event someone tried to break in, so you had to defend yourself. You wear wary of the men she brought inside, always idly wondering if any of them were your father, but so few of them ever returned.

You don’t remember ever knowing you even had a father before that, unknowing until she told you about sex and what makes a human child when you were four. Not that you’d asked and not that she would care to speak to you when she was anything other than suffocatingly drunk.

In a room that was barely such, the feeble plywood walls held together as if by magic and the curtain strung up as your door sagged so low it only served to be a nuisance to your agenda. Outdated machines and technology stacked high around the walls, most were scrap parts for your projects.

You dedicated every day to sitting in the same spot, surrounded by computers and machines, and learning what makes them function. The finite possibilities, yet the scope of their differences, is something that brought you peace and kept the gears in your own head turning. Sometimes, you would pretend and daydream as if you were an android yourself. You were not lucky enough to be born as one with artificial intelligence.

You attended virtual school whenever you felt like it, or at least you knew the basics. Your parent didn’t care. She nearly pretended like you didn’t exist, which suited you just fine. From the time you were five, she began leaving you alone at home. You knew how to pull the cracked plastic stool over to the counter and get yourself some goldfish crackers or something else simple. You weren’t allowed to use the stove even though you’d repaired it twice, but the microwave was fine.

You knew how to bathe and how to use the restroom and clean up after yourself because you had to. There was nobody else for a long time. Days came and went when you weren’t sure if she would ever come back, only for her to come banging on the squeaky front door or crashing through it slurring her words and waking you from a fitful sleep to wipe at your tear-stained cheeks in the middle of the night. The notion of your tears on her behalf was always something unpredictable and confusing to you. Why would you cry over such insignificance, you sometimes wondered to yourself.

If she stopped coming back one day you would figure it out. The nice man across the street from your apartment building ran a tiny tech store and he always had a smile for you and something that needed fixing. Most days he would ask you math problems as something he called a “lightning round” of questions for an extra quarter for every right answer. Surely the three dollars he gave you for what your fixed every time was enough to put what little food you needed in your stomach.

By the time you were eight, the habits you and your cohabitant fell into became routine. You became accustomed to sleeping during the day while she was out, setting your school live feed on record so you could watch it later. At night, while trying to drown out the sounds of her screaming or sex or shattering bottles, you would work. In the world you knew, the industry wasn’t as slow as it used to be. Too fast-paced for most new phone models to make it past their six-month mark before it was time to stop manufacturing and making capital, moving onto the next one. From what you understood, a new model of home security cameras could go on the market one day and be in the clearance pile before you got your next paycheck. Security tech became your playground after a few years, and you didn’t have enough money to buy anything. It never bothered you that you were always a step behind the latest tech because you had to wait a week until the latest model began showing up in dumpsters. It was never your intention to be faster than that. By the age of ten, you knew your priority was survival and in order to do that, you had to protect yourself with whatever means necessary. You had six different checkpoints in security on your living space not long after you became familiar with it. An additional four security cameras had been installed by your own two small hands around your building as well, at the entrance, elevator, your floor’s hall, and in front of your flimsy front door. All secretly controlled by you, without the knowledge of the outdated model of AI that ran your front desk, passively named Al- born of the building owner’s lack of creativity or care. Probably both.

You spent your days alone, in the tiny, insufferable hole in the wall place called your ‘home’. Where, as the years propelled to 2063 on your twelfth year, you chose to ignore most of the other inhabitants of this world. On a worn-out and broken faux leather armchair, perpetually stuck in the reclining position. Where you sat to work and where you slept and where you held your breath at the groaning sound omitted from its cushions every time you moved. You kept fixing it whenever it would break, dumping you from the side of it with a ‘plunk’ as the bars jumped off their tracks. You scowled every time they snapped the tracks completely. You worked to hone your skills in the world of technology, tinkering and learning every detail of every machine you could get your hands on from the dumpster behind your building. Sometimes if you were lucky, the building owner would forget to pay the trash removal services and it would pile up for weeks. Heaps of smelly trash were a small price to pay if it meant you could hit the jackpot and take several trips up and down the rickety old elevator with your arms full of tech.

Those were your happiest memories. Your body felt like jelly by the time you finished sorting through it all and bringing it up to your stash, carefully removing casings of microcomputers or game cartridges to get to the gold inside.

Everything was fine and although you couldn’t say you were content with your life- you didn’t hate it. You loved the freedom to be left alone and the peace of your tinkering tech. Perhaps a little impatient to grow up, but with every passing year, you celebrated quietly to yourself during the days you had been told your birth date fell. Somewhere between these seven days, you pulled up the same app on every smartphone you had in your possession and ran quickly around your makeshift room trying to blow out twenty digital candles in one big breath- careful not to trip over small piles of tech as you went.

It became a blur after you turned twelve. Somewhere along the timeline not long after that, a man started showing up to the apartment and threw off the balance you had so carefully maintained. You never knew his name, but you remember his face, his cologne, and his voice, and the way his eyes sparkled with something that sank in the pit of your stomach the first time you laid eyes on him. Most of all, even now, you remember him in your restless nightmares and the raw feeling of vindictive rage that in your weakest moments, reminds you that you’re alive, if only by the boiling heat of your blood rushing through your ears. In those moments, when your vision goes fuzzy with the desire to see him suffer and rot miserably in the deepest pits of hell, preferably bleeding and screaming.

You remember him from a time past, standing in the kitchen with your parent, one of her arms curled around his thick neck and the other raised in the air, his fingers closed around her slim wrist. The suit he wore looked expensive, and their bodies were slowly bending over the kitchen table in a strange dance, waiting for her back to snap and flatten against the wooden surface. Their eyes flashed to yours for less than a heartbeat as you walked to the refrigerator, laughing at something that lulled in the silence.

The next time you saw him he had fed your cohabitant something so toxic she passed out on the floor beside the couch. Then he spoke to you. In his deep baritone, he sounded like he smoked too many cigarettes too often. Or drank a bottle of razor blades.

“Pretty little thing ain’t ye?” he asked, dipping his head through the curtain that thinly veiled your world from outside eyes.

You ignored him, choosing to pretend as if the headphones situated on your head were actually producing audio. So he hit you.

Then he hit you again, screaming at you for ignoring him and calling you a bitch, whatever that meant. You heard it slung at your parent enough to know it was derogatory.

You didn’t even scream, you remember. Very clearly you sat shocked, but tears spilled down your cheeks from the pain alone. The heat you felt on your cheek, swelling and rough as if you’d fallen off a motorized bike and gotten road rash on your face.

Your fingers rose and you can recall them vividly, shaking as they reached to touch at your cheek and the hiss of pain as you recoiled from yourself.

Then, you try not to visualize it, but it won’t go away. You remember the feeling of his hand grabbing yours as it froze in midair, yanking you from the protection and warm affection of your old faux leather chair. It growled as he ripped you from its grasp in protest, pulling you so hard the force nearly dislocated your shoulder while he simply tossed you on the floor.

You remember the feeling of his fingers pulling at your clothes and then pain. Extreme pain, so brutal and fast it took your breath away. Your face throbbed as his palm fit perfectly across your whole skull, pushing your head onto the rough wood planks below.

You screamed, but you don’t remember if any sound came out, or if it was just that nobody cared that you did so. You screamed and cried, trying to crawl away as he grabbed at you. There was a ‘whoosh’ feeling as the air was ripped from your lungs when something burning sunk, forcing itself a home of darkness that never should have been between your soul and your corporeal form.

And then nothing.

You remember waking up to the sharp scent of blood, confirming it when you saw it on the floor around you, glistening and wet in the faint glow of computers. You remember the pain that shot between your legs as you tried to sit up properly, groaning as fresh tears worked down your cheeks. The cry that left you rippled pain across your face, too, and you remember crawling yourself over to your beloved chair and leaning against the comfort of its worn fabric as you reached for any of the smartphones you had.

For the first time ever, the brightness of a screen made you flinch back in the darkness. Persevering, you opened the camera and turned it to selfie mode, inspecting your face in the digital reflection. Your right cheek was fat and red, and two purple circles were clearly left in the wake of where his gaudy rings hit your skin. The stain on your skin crept up below your eye.

You made yourself calm down enough to quell the sobs wracking your chest to softer whimpers and tears to help the pain in your cheek stop.

It happened again some unknown weeks later. Your parent so stoned and drunk she passed out blissfully somewhere else and he came to you again. Your begging did you no good, and you were no match for his strength. Why hadn’t you run the moment you could stand on your legs again after the first assault? Why hadn’t you hauled every piece of your tech and saved dime from your bank account or gone to the nice old man across the street for help? Deep down, you knew. You were confident enough to know he would find you and smart enough to know he would kill you when he did.

The second time, you wished you had a gun or a knife. Not just cameras to catch him in the act. Or something that would make him stop and leave you alone. It was just as bad as the first, except this time you didn’t pass out. You did your best to stay still, compliance your only weapon in hoping he goes away that much sooner if you let it be over with. It still hurt just as bad, and he still left you in a puddle of white and red wetness on the floor. The scent of blood made you dizzy.

For the first time in your life, you begged. You begged the adult that raised you and fed you until you could do it yourself. For just once you desperately wished to talk to her and confirm. To make her do something to save you. You were terrified you wouldn’t be able to save yourself, and if this were the last thing she would ever do for you, if it were the last time you would ever see her, you would be grateful if she would just do something to save her daughter.

Hopelessness and an unending free-fall of terror are what you received. You were stronger than she was, and nearly her height by now, with a young healthy body not wrought with substance abuse. You forced her to sit still and keep her eyes open. To keep watching the video even though you couldn’t watch it yourself, barely able to weather the sounds coming from the captured footage.

When it was over, you hadn’t realized you were crying. Your vision blurred when you opened your eyes, with wet cheeks that felt the rush of air as you maneuvered in front of her and gingerly knelt on the floor to beg at her knees. You gathered her hands in her lap, struggling to hold them as you repeated your pleas.

She ignored them, literally shaking and gasping for breath and telling you it wasn’t real. Telling you it never happened. When you forced it upon her and threatened to go to the police with it she pulled your hair and screamed at you. Screamed that you were an idiot and that he would kill you both because didn’t you know who he was? Didn’t you know the power that man held over so many? No, you didn’t.

And it suddenly dawned on you, she was just as scared. She was scared and terrified and unable to grasp any semblance of control over what that man did anymore. She was a fool to think she ever did, and you were a fool to have a sliver of faith in her. So you left to clear your head, much to her cries not to. Born out of anxiety, fearful you would go to the police.

You walked farther than you thought you could as you attempted to regain the strength in your legs. Slowly, and by the time you returned the sun had fully set, but an orange glow caught your attention from the rooftop, one floor above yours. Wisps of smoke, too. Odd, nobody ever went up there.

A single stray cord and a plastic piece of backing laid on the floor between the elevator and your door, and your heart sunk back down all fourteen floors. You were out of breath and the pain between your legs was searing by the time you shoved your way through the metal door to the roof.

Sitting on the ledge was a gaunt, familiar face. She was smoking a cigarette, watching the flames and smoke from three rust-stained barrels. Inside of them was most of your tech. Your cameras, a few handfuls of smartphones, seven computers, gaming consoles, tablets.

You barely remember what happened after that, but you know it was a lot of screaming and a burn when you attempted to kick one of them and stomp out the flames. That day was the catalyst that made you take action, planning to escape from hell. If there was no chance to be saved by someone else, you would have to do it yourself.

Racing the clock on a high of anxiety, you only prayed that for three days he wouldn’t show up. You only needed three days.

On the afternoon of the second day, you hadn’t realized you were alone in the small apartment of your old and outdated building. You were too busy working like lightning to beat an imaginary deadline on your heels. You hadn’t noticed she had left until you came out shortly to use the restroom and find some crackers.

There he was at the kitchen table, the cheap metal legs of the chair bowing under his mass. You froze, watching him in shock and briefly you let your eyes wander around the living room to realize she wasn’t there. His voice was low as he told you she passed out in the elevator hours ago.

The chair made a horrible scuffing sound as he stood up, and you flinched. It didn’t matter once he took your wrist in his grip, and he made you suffer once more.

Something unhinged him this time, and even through the pain and nausea and the attempt to make yourself faint just to not have to live through it, you felt it. Felt the psychotic shift in his brain as he laughed at your pain.

It broke something inside of you. Escape. Do not let him do this to you. Definitely do not give up and let it happen. Retaliate. Fight. Get away. Run. Live.

You barely recall how you came to the conclusion, or how you stomached the grotesque way, when he leaned over your back, you turned your head. How you took the easiest thing to reach- his right ear lobe- between your teeth, and mangled him for all you were worth.

The gratification was immediate as he sprang from you, shoving you forward and holding his head. You remember no pain in that moment, and smiling with adrenaline, breathless but with lungs full of oxygen at the same time. You bolted before he could come back to his senses, grabbing your bag from your chair, thankfully nearly complete, and ran out, fixing your clothing along the way.

He tried to get up fast enough to stop you, lunging for you with one hand as you made it into the hallway, but whatever adrenaline you were on was potent, and your senses were razor sharp. You ducked his hand, hearing him barrel into the wall with his momentum as you made for the elevator.

You watched in slow motion the hopeless rage morph onto his stubbled face, knowing he wouldn’t catch you in time. Letting go of his ear, you saw it maimed, the bottom half missing, an obvious mouth-shaped crest bleeding heavily onto the floor as he reached instead to procure a gun from his jacket.

Although your heart leaped at the sight of it as the metal door creaked open behind you, his hands were messy, and the gun slipped from his bloody grip.

Turning to get on, you hesitated for just a second when you saw her there, passed out in the corner of the elevator. You shoved the button for the lobby as hard as you could, planning to rip the wires from the panel behind Al’s desk the moment it reached the bottom. It would give you enough time to get away as he descended the stairs.

You remember watching her sleep, but an eerie sense of foreboding grew in the intimate space the lower the elevator went, despite the beauty of golden hour cityscape from the window that served as the back wall of the capsule.

It took a few moments for you to realize the sun looked odd against her skin. Her hair didn’t catch the rays, nor did her lips hold the same color or fullness of your own, a feature you had in common. She looked sick.

An unfamiliar emotion welled in you. Some concoction of fear, sadness, and a heavy sense of solitude congealed in your chest and your throat as you crouched beside her quietly, afraid to make a sound.

Hesitantly, you touched her shoulder, immediately recoiling at the unnatural stone of her form, refusing to be pliant under the gentle press of your fingers. Swallowing the bile that rose in your throat, you grasped her shoulders, shaking her. Her body slid further down the wall when you let go. It remained there on the floor in an unnatural and rigid stillness, heavy.

You tripped as you receded backward, falling against the smooth metal of the door. Terror overcame you and a bewildering sense of lonely unknown stood towering before you in your mind’s eye. Not that you expected to ever see her again. Not that you expected to care, you hated her. But you hadn’t wanted her to die.

“Mom,” you remember choking up her title in reverence, the one and only time in your life you’d ever said the word.

You groaned with pain, suddenly powerless without the adrenaline that was just coursing through your veins. Everything hurt. Your vision, your head, your body, your heart. You were going to throw up. But you’d be damned if you did it before you escaped. You were so close. Just a little further.

Your mouth watered with the impending expulsion of your gut, but you managed to fall backward out of the elevator and stumble to your feet, feeling heavy as you trudged past Al’s inquiry of your health to the panel, ripping every wire out with your fist.

Just once you threw up beside the revolving door of your building before entering. You staggered through it after, feeling a rush of fresh air that told your very soul it was over.

You did it. Now you just had to make sure you survived, but you were good at that.

_________________

April, 2072

You pursed your lips, scowling at the bitter, sour flavor of the lollipop settled on your tongue. Leaning to the right, you lifted your hand from the grip of your bars, reaching through the thickness of your helmet through the open visor and whipping the candy from your mouth with a grimace.

You slowed, unable to afford a littering fine if you just threw it to the wind behind you, even though you wanted to rebel in that way. Too many high-tech cameras on the city streets to get away with anything unless you had the money to pay off the cops.

Which, unfortunately, you didn’t.

Twisting forward to squeeze the brake, you let your bike lull into a quiet purr as you pull off onto a quiet road, looking for the correct receptacle. You let it crawl forward, along the curb, and over a storm drain so you can lean over and drop the candy into the trash. For a moment, you lick your lips, pulling your backpack around to rummage through the bag of lollies inside for a better flavor.

While you search for a strawberry- your favorite- you weigh the pros and cons of just buying a bag of strawberry flavor instead of the assortment. Price, for starters, you scoff to yourself, remembering to pluck the sour apple wrapper from your pocket to toss into the trash. Exclusive flavor bags are more expensive, but you don’t waste as much by throwing out every god damned green apple you pluck from the bag.

Frowning when you come up empty-handed, you take the second-best choice, unwrapping the dark red of a cherry lolly when a presence catches your attention. A man, tall and thin, clothed in dark colors standing still against the bustle of the city. There’s a black baseball cap on his head, pressed down over dark red curls that peek out at the edges.

He’s wearing square, dark-tinted sunglasses that block out his eyes, with ears that bow out from his skull, and you briefly register that he’s built the same all around, in large proportions, from his hands to his face to his towering height.

Even in the late afternoon, his visage glows with artificial color as he basks in the light of a large television displayed in the storefront window. Although his attire tells you he’s trying to conceal his identity, he doesn’t seem to stick out, going ultimately unnoticed by the people passing by him.

His face is turned towards the television as a news channel covers a fire at a large corporate building from last night. It shows impressive plumes of flame and thick smoke, even darker than the night sky, glowing faintly with billions of lights.

The man watching the television bounces a short stick between his teeth, but you can’t tell what it is from this distance. You notice his face moves, the apples of his cheeks rising high as he smiles wide, easily a head above the crowd.

The sound of sirens from the recording of the fire dins away to the sound of an audio clip taken from a phone call. A man’s voice, clearly distorted with an autotune. Raspy, dark laughter, and a bitter promise to chase someone to hell.

A small part of you is smug, rooting for the villain even, and his vicious words to whomever the message are, or was, intended.

The sun is starting to set, and you hate having to watch the skyline glitter with the golden light as you drive on. It’s an unwanted and unnecessary memory, unforgiving in the distance of your timeline.

Luckily, you enter the undercity just as the light grows intense, escaping into the sleepless neon of your world. Into the black market and the tech industry, rife with people who thrive on a never-ending night, as if their veins are made of glass and filled with inert gases to make them glow just as brightly as the buildings here.

You’ve got a lead from a friend of sorts. Someone who you’ve got a history with from your days at the bordello, and who kept you alive once upon a time when you first came to the undercity, terrified but determined to forget yourself and be born as someone stronger, smarter, better.

He’s never given you bad intel before, so long as you could get to it before a clan or a faster loaner. Luckily, you have a natural gift for hacking and the latest model of ‘unhackable’ Hyperbikes are no exception to your deft fingers.

You pull up outside Blue House, scanning the digital bulletin for the job he mentioned. You press your finger to it, holding your breath for the marquee to inform you whether it’s still up for grabs, or if it is unfortunately for you- in progress.

A smile cracks your lips when the green light pops up, and you whip your glove off when the prompter asks to scan your left thumb. A second passes as the soft blue light moves across your finger, chirping in confirmation when it’s done.

You don’t even care what the job is- but Chan promised it would be something you could do. All you remember is hearing a payment sum that could put good food in your stomach for a month straight. The only question you had was why a tech hacking job was showing up on a brothel’s bulletin board.

Ultimately, what was one more undercover prostitution job? You were familiar with the work that came through the bordello, and its basic services. In the last two years, you’ve moved away from it little by little, having made some waves with your work as a hacker in the undercity. Your moniker started to be whispered across the shadows as the underdog, a  genius ‘for the people’ hacker that put bad men where they belonged. Only Chan knew you by two names. The rest of the world only knew one.

The name Maneater.

#heat seekers #chanyeol x reader #chanyeol fanfiction #dead dove do not eat #exo fanfiction #chanyeol angst #exo angst #chanyeol fic #exo fic

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Mutiny

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )

Merchant ship Noble Voyager Current commanding officer: Grumbug Folif. Crew:  125 Cargo Manifest: Mineral ore, Dytaxium Crystals, Methane gas cylinders, and mining equipment in need of repair. Charted route: Round about journey from Yenniri trade world to mining world of Alia 1 for cargo then returning to Yenniri for distribution.

Captains log Entry 2905.40 I didn’t think my fortune would take such a turn for the better but it seems the weavers of fate have finally smiled upon me.

Members of the merchant guild approached me shortly after landing for refit to hire me for a transportation assignment. They needed someone to go out to one of their mining subsidiaries on Alia I and transport freshly mined minerals, gases, and crystals back to them. It seems they had hit some sort of wealthy vane and were eager to exploit it before the local officials noticed and increased their mining taxes. They were even willing to pay extra to bring back some of their damaged mining gear for repair.

They wanted to me to depart immediately but I told them I would need at least a day or two to finish refitting the Noble Voyager for transit. Were it not for the timetable they found themselves on I am sure they would have went out and found another ship, but considering the speed in which they wanted their cargo and the shadiness they were no doubt hiding that I was willing to look the other way for they reluctantly agreed and a contract was drawn up.

Captains log Entry 2905.41 With their timetable bearing down on me the merchant members insisted I take off by the end of the day. Those damn money grubbers are pains in my thorax but their money is good and I can’t lose this contract.

I had to put a halt to some of the refits. They’d take too much time and time was something I did not have to spare. Even more to my disgust I had to bring on some new crew and the only ones available seemed to be humans.

The pink flesh sacks aren’t the brightest of the galaxy but they can use a wrench and pick up and carry a crate like a pack animal like any other so they will have to do.

We set off just before dusk and now are heading towards the system jump point. It’ll take about three to four days to reach Alia I. I need to have a word with engineer Hoplop to see if he can boost the engine speed to reduce travel time.

Captains log Entry 2905.42

I have come to regret bringing on the human crew. All they do is complain in about every tiny detail.

“The ship shakes violently some times.”

“The lights and air go out on our crew quarters deck regularly.”

“We need more food.”

It’s as if they are an endless machine that spews infractions for the tiniest matters while the rest of my crew have learned to keep their mouths shut and do as they are told.

Once we get back to Yenniri I will kick them off my ship myself.

Captains log Entry 2905.43

In all of my twenty three solar cycles as captain of this ship I have never once had to deal with insurrection by my crew; a track record that I have proudly worn as a badge of honor when meeting potential clients.

Today that record was ruined when the humans “elected” a representative from among them to bring a list of “grievances”.

I was so enraged by this I don’t even remember what the flesh sacks name was as they rattled off and whined how they were being treated unfairly and working conditions were unsafe. I had the human dragged from my bridge down to the human quarters and flogged in front of all of them as a warning to do as you were told and nothing more.

Captains log Entry 2905.44

Since the flogging there have been no more complaints from the human crew. They now remain silent and do not venture out far past their crew quarters unless on assignment.

As always there is no problem with humans that cannot be solved with a good flogging.

Captains log Entry 2905.45

We exited out of our jump at the systems edge. I wish I could say it was a graceful exit that befitted the Noble Voyager but it was anything but.

The moment we exited back into real space I felt a shudder rack and shake the command deck. I found out that this was not an isolated event but that the entire ship had violently shook along the entire spin of the ship originating from the engine room.

Within moments I was speaking with engineer Hoplop who from the sounds of it was in the middle of hectic action. It sounded so dire that I left the bridge and made my way to engineering to see for myself.

Upon reaching engineering the room was filled with a smell of burning and yet no fires were present. I found engineer Hoplop directing work crews in frantic motion around the starboard engine and called him over.

He reported that the starboard engine upon deceleration from our jump had shook free of its restraints and had damn near torn loose before stabilizing. Even then several connection ports and venting tubes had ruptured but the damage was limited to the engine room.

I asked him if we could still travel at sub jump speed and he that the starboard engine would be out of commission until it was re-secured. The amount of time we would lose for repairs would push us out of the timetable so I ordered him to continue repairs on the engine but we would navigate with portside engine along with emergency thrusters to adjust course.

Hoplop said those were only meant to be used in the event of an emergency and should not be used otherwise. A swift back of my hand across his face silenced him and I told him to just do as he was told before I made my way back to the command deck.

Captains log Entry 2905.46

Repairing the engine is taking up more time than expected and the use of just the portside engine will still add an additional day before we arrive at Alia I.

I’ve switched some of the human crew to assist Hoplop wit repairs. He expressed concerns that humans may become violently sick after being exposed to dangerous engine chemicals.

If they were to die after we had loaded the cargo from Alia I onboard then that would be fine with me.

Fewer crew members to pay leaves a bigger cut for myself for ship expenses.

Captains log Entry 2905.47

We reached Alia I today and set down at the requested landing pad the merchant guild had provided us.

While some of the human crew were still helping repair the engine the rest began moving all of the cargo onboard and stowing it safe for travel.

We are a day behind schedule from the engine malfunction but if we could load the entire cargo haul in a single day we could make up for lost time.

To that end I ordered that any human slacking would result in the entire human crew having their pay docked. To show the flesh sacks I was serious I docked them a quarter pay after finding one of them kneeling behind crates and coughing violently rather than carrying.

I had my provosts carry the stupid being to the brig to be flogged later once we were space bound again.

Captains log Entry 2905.48

Just as I had expected we were able to fully load the cargo in a single day and be on our way back to the systems jump point.

Engineer Hoplop he has stabilized and secured the starboard engine to the best of his ability but has found a new problem. The cabling systems from the engine to the power core were damaged and the engine will not jump unless more power could be obtained.

Sometimes I wonder why I even keep the oaf around when he can’t find the answer to his problem right in front of him.

I told him to continue monitoring the engine and I would inform him of new changes once we reached the jump point.

Captains log Entry 2905.49

Just as we reached the jump point I ordered all crew to their stations save the human portion.

Over the communications system I expressed my gratitude for our newest crewmates handling such trying times with ease and composure worthy of any solar sailor and that they each had been awarded some down time to recuperate and my previous order for docking their pay would be rescinded. I ordered them all to return to their quarters where they would receive their bonus as well.

Once I had confirmation the majority of the human crew had returned to their quarters I had my provost’s seal off the bulkheads leading into the area. Over the intercom I spoke to them directly and said that for their lack of effort and laziness that none of the humans would be receiving their wages and would be dumped back on Yenniri. I then ordered Hoplop to cut the power to the human quarters bulk heads, lighting system, and reduce life support in that area by 75% to generate the needed power for the starboard engine.

I could see through surveillance units that all of the humans were upset at this; some even began trying to break through the bulk heads amusingly.

Overall I feel proud of myself to have tricked them into coming aboard and essentially working for free.

Captains log Entry 2905.50

Some of the other crew members have stepped forward concerned about the treatment of the humans; or so they say. They were easily compliant with my actions once I said they would be receiving a portion of the humans share instead. You can always count on money smoothing things over.

My provosts report they can hear loud banging noises coming from the other side of the bulkheads sealing off the humans and a faint sound of human voices. I’ve told them not to worry about it and that it would be over within the next day or two.

Human resilience was legendary across the stars for being able to survive without food or water for days if not weeks, but thankfully the flesh sacks were not known for being able to break through reinforce Trivar metal bulk heads with their bare hands

Captains log Entry 2905.51

Sirens are blaring across my ship and just like everything else those damn humans are to blame!

Shortly after we exited our jump thermal sensors detected a spike coming from inside their quarters that risks to burn through the cabling supplying power to the engines that overlaps their quarters.

I have dispatched provosts and repair teams to the human quarters and ordered Hoplop to restore power to the bulk heads.

Captains log Entry 2905.51.1

Those fraking flesh sacks were waiting for us!!!

As soon as we opened the bulk head a wall of smoke poured out and blinded the provosts as the repair teams went in. They’d not gotten three steps before humans poured out and tackled them to the ground and moved on the provosts.

The damn humans set fires to whatever they could get their hands on to trigger the thermal warning sensors and get us to unlock the bulk heads.

They’ve broken out and are now running rampant towards engineering. I’m taking a squad of provosts myself and ending this once and for all.

Captains log Entry 2905.52 New captain designation: Nathan Hydel

It is with great sadness that I must report that the former captain of the Noble voyager, Grumbug Folif, along with engineer Hoplop and a large portion of the crew died in a freak engine malfunction that damaged a portion of the outer hull and sucked them out into open space.

As the last remaining officer, chosen by popular election, it is my responsibility now to take over as captain of the Nobel Voyager.

I would say we should mourn the loss of so many of our fellow crew mates but we have no time to spare.

It is now our responsibility to complete our former captain’s last contract in the timely manner he was so proudly known and as such we are now known for as well.

For if nothing else the weavers of fate do not take kindly to those that do not honor their word.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #mutiny

[kiirokero]

Selcouth (KNJ)

Selcouth: Unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet marvelous. Old English.

Part of the “Protect the Village!” Oneshot Series!

Masterlist

Pairing: CarMechanic!Namjoon x Writer!Reader

Genre: Fluff, a bit of angst, but a happy ending :)

Note: I stg this Aquafina water be hittin’ different nowadays

Summary: Having your car break down? Sucks. Having your car break down in an unfamiliar town after losing basically everything? Yeah, that really sucks. Hopefully, the smartest mechanic in town can get you back on the road quickly.

Word Count: 3.6k

“W-What do you mean you’re letting me go?”

        “I mean that you’re fired, Y/n, but I wanted to put it in a nicer way,” Your boss explained, releasing a sigh. “B-But why?” You sputtered out, “Mr. Choi, you know I need this writing job... No other position is open the city...” You begged, having the smallest of hope that he would reconsider. “I know Ms. L/n, but the company is going under, even if you stay I can’t pay you,” Mr. Choi groaned, one of his palms resting on his face. 

      You felt like crying. Ever since you were little, you dreamed of being a writer and sharing stories with others. When you got older, that dream changed to wanting people around the world to read what you wrote, so why not write articles for newsletter companies?

      It was difficult. The city you lived in was full of competition for every job you could name. Office workers, technicians, writers. But you had nowhere else to go. You moved away from home for this. Your family sorta cut ties with you shortly after, never really caring for you in a parental way... They were just there. So you needed to succeed. You needed this job. 

And now that was all gone. 

      So you went home, searched up writing jobs in a 50-mile radius, packed your things, got in your car, and started driving. In the next city over there was a new newsletter company getting started and they were looking for writers. It was just the thing you needed. Maybe this was the universe telling you that you needed a change of pace. That you needed a new routine, a second chance to start over and make life your bitch.

     The blur of lush, green trees whooshed past your car windows as you kept your eyes on the coarse road in front of you. The rhythmic hum of the machine you were operating was the only sound you could hear. You had a music playlist, but after an hour and a half, it got more irritating than relaxing. So you sat in silence, mind blank, as you ran on auto-pilot. 

Until your car made an odd sputter. 

     Creasing your eyebrows, you looked at the dials on your dashboard, waiting for any warning light to shine, but none did. You shrugged it off, still feeling slightly uneasy, but trusting your old machine to safely get you to your destination. Besides, there's nothing out here. It has to. 

      Nothing happened for another half-hour. Just the same methodical vroom of your tires on the road and whoosh of your air conditioning vents. You were just thinking about turning on the radio to whatever channel reached out here when... Sputter... Sputter. 

      Twice now, your car sputtered twice now. “God, please don’t do this,” You groaned to yourself, praying to whatever miracle maker was in the sky that your car wouldn’t break down on an obscure road with no big commune around for miles. Sputter... Sputtt... Sputter... It was getting worse now, but being the stubborn person you were, you refused to believe that the car you had since teenage hood was finally giving out on you. 

Sputter... Sputter... Sput... put... pu.. tttt...

      Sighing, you pulled over to the side of the road with what little acceleration you had left on your- now dead- car. You sat there in the driver seat for a second, gathering your scattered thoughts, blinking back your tears of frustration. “I can’t believe this,” You whispered to the quiet air in the car. You hit your steering wheel in anger, immediately regretting it when the sting of the hit hurt your hand in turn. Curse you Newton and your 3rd law.

      Pulling out your phone from your backpack that laid in the passenger seat, you looked up mechanics you could call. Surprisingly, there was a tiny village not too far from here, only 2 miles, that had a mechanic. Bangtan Village. “Huh,” You murmured, “Never heard of it,” 

      You’ve never heard of Bangtan Village before. Then again, you’ve never went traveling around these parts either. You were always confined to the big cities for work, so it wasn’t a mind blowing revelation that there was possibly a village out here.

     Dialing the number listed, the phone rung a few times before the voice of a man answered. “Hello Kim’s Car Repair, how may I help you?” His voice sounded very warm and friendly. The soothing tone called down your panicking heart, and for that you were grateful.

“Hey, um, my car broke down, do you do towing?” You asked, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

“Yes we do! Do you know where you are?”

      You told him what road you were on and approximately how close to town you were and he reassured you that he would get to you soon. So you had no choice but to wait.

      20 minutes later, the rumble of the tow truck caught your attention. A tall man, about 6 foot, stepped out of the truck and gave you a dimpled smile. He had tan skin and gold brunette hair that was dirtied by what looked to be the black residue that comes from working on cars. His brown eyes crinkled endearingly and he was dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans combo. He looked like the type of man who starred in a romance drama.

      “Hello! I assume your the Y/n I spoke to on the phone?” He asked, walking up to stand in front of me. For a man so tall, his height was comforting in a friendly giant way rather than intimidating. “Yeah, that’s me,” You chuckled, scratching the back of your neck. “I’m Namjoon,” He said, shaking my hand. “Nice to meet you, Namjoon,” You smiled, thinking that his hands were calloused from the work he did, but they were also a tough sort of soft.

      “Okay, so the plan is to tow your car back to my shop, see what’s up with it, then get you back on the road,” Namjoon explained, smile never slipping off of his face.

“Sounds good, Namjoon,” You smiled back.

      Namjoon hooked up your car to the truck as you sat in the front passenger's seat, watching him do his work smoothly, like a true professional. Once Namjoon was done, he got back in the truck, “Ready?” He asked. “Ready!” You firmly nodded. “Let’s go then” Namjoon grinned.

      The drive was smooth and somewhat quiet. The two of you talked here and there. About where you were going, your profession, his profession. Just very basic small talk. Before you knew it, you were in the quaint tiny village of Bangtan. Everything was spotless. The streets were free of litter, murals were painted on store walls, people were chatting friendly on the sidewalk. It was an enormous difference from the dirty, tagged, unfriendly streets of the city. It was a pleasant sight to see, a soul-cleansing image.

      Soon, Namjoon had your car in the shop and was inspecting it in no time. Already getting down to the problem while you waited anxiously waited for a verdict. “Well, I have good news and bad news,” Namjoon sighed, wiping off his dirtied hands on a hand towel. “Tell me the bad news first,” You said, grimly expecting the worst. “Okay, so, it’s a problem with your engine that will take at least a week to fix minimum.” He sighed, a sad smile on his face. You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “But the good news is! You’re in Bangtan!” He said, giving you jazz hands.

“What do you mean?” You asked, raising your eyebrows.

“Everyone here is friendly, and I know you don’t exactly have a place to go, but I’m sure someone would be willing to house you” He shrugged.

“Namjoon, I don’t have the money to pay a rent.” You sighed.

“Then you can stay here! Free of charge! Consider it a few add on to me fixing your car,” He smiled.

      You felt a little better at that. You would have a place to stay, and it wouldn’t cost you a thing. Thinking about how much money was in your savings account, you felt like angels were singing at Namjoon’s suggestion. “Really?” You asked, eyes lit up in hope. “Of course. I’m not going to kick you out on the street,” He chuckled, giving you that same adorable dimpled smile. “Thank you so much, Namjoon. I’ll make it up to you!” You grinned, bouncing in excitement. “No need, I’m just glad to help.”

      Namjoon lived on the second floor of his shop. It was a small apartment, an open living room-kitchen plan with amazing natural light. His apartment was full of plants. Flowers, mini trees, elephant leaves. He even had a beautiful bonsai that obviously got a lot of care. “Your place is nice.” You complimented genuinely, smiling at the little things spread around the room. He had a Ryan cushion on his couch, a bookshelf full of classics, and solar powered toys in the window. The ones that bobble back and forth. “Thank you,” Namjoon chuckled, scratching the back of his neck while the two of you took off your shoes. “It’s a bit messy, but it’s home,” He said, leading you through the apartment to his small guest bedroom.

      “Here it is!” Namjoon said, leaning his head against the doorway. “Thank you again, Namjoon. I’ll be sure to be the best temporary roommate ever!” You promised. Namjoon laughed, patting you on the back with his large hand. “Just don’t murder me in my sleep and we’ll be fine,” He said, and you snorted. “Have you seen yourself? You could snap me like a twig,” You chuckled, gesturing to his sculpted arms that he no doubt got from his rigorous line of work. “I’d never,” He smirked, giving you a wink that made your heart flutter and cheeks heat up.

      You nervously chuckled, looking away from him to look around the room a bit, dropping your backpack off on the bed. “I’ll let you get settled, I’ll be in the living room if you need me,” Namjoon said, giving you a little wave goodbye as he closed the door, giving you some privacy. Sighing, you flopped on the soft white bed and let out a groan at how good it felt to lie down after driving for so long. You didn’t realize just how tired you were until you drifted off to sleep, letting the sweet shackles of your subconscious lock you in a state of rest.

      “So you’re telling me, that you had to write an article about animal genitalia? And ducks have corkscrew penises?” Namjoon laughed from under the car he was working on. “Yeah, and let me tell you whatever FBI agent is assigned to watching my internet history has quit by now,” You joked, laughing along with the man who has been your roommate for the past 4 days. “Wow, that sounds... interesting,” Namjoon chuckled, rolling out from under the car and sitting up straight to look at you. “Quite,” You answered back, handing him his hand towel so he could clean off his oily hands. “Hey um, I have a weird question to ask,” Namjoon said, grabbing your attention.

      Quirking your head to the side, you raised your eyebrows, “What’s up? Nothing can be weirder than a duck's dick.” You giggled, earning a smile from the man in front of you. “Would you... like to go out for dinner? There’s this nice restaurant in town that I think you’d like,” You asked nervously, his pitch gradually increasing as he got more anxious. You internally giggled at the fact that he was nervous at asking you to dinner, but smiled at him nonetheless. “That sounds nice. Are we going tonight?” You inquired, leaning on the edge of your seat. “Um, we can... if you’d like too...” He shrugged, fiddling with his grease stained hand towel. “I’d love to,”

      Namjoon’s smiled widened as he stood up to put away his tools. “Great! Um, we can go at 6?” He offered, and you have him a nod. “6 sounds good,” You answered, standing up to go and get ready. “I’ll be waiting.” You smiled, leaving Namjoon swooning as he gave you a look of admiration. “Yeah, yeah I’ll see you soon,” He smiled back, giving you a little wave as you walked out of his shop, running upstairs to pick out the nicest outfit you had from the limited clothes you brought with you that aren’t packed in boxes.

      Soon you picked out a cute skirt and sweater, modeling them in the mirror. Once you were satisfied with the way you looked and didn’t look like you crawled right out of bed, you checked the time. 5:45. You had a bit of time left before you left, so you sat down on the couch for a bit. Once you got out there, you couldn’t help but pick up one of Namjoon’s books that were lying around to help pass the time. 

      The Catcher in the Rye. A classic. Everyone in their senior year of highschool has probably read this book, willingly or not. The sheer amount of angst in this book would seemingly drive reader away, but it does the opposite. “I see you’ve found one of my favorites,” Namjoon chuckled from the doorway, pulling you out of the world in the book. “I have a feeling all the books on those shelves are your favorites” You teased, closing the hard cover and placing the book down on the coffee table. 

      “Maybe, but I’ve been on a Pride and Prejudice kick lately,” He chuckled, looking over to the bookshelves he had in his living room. “Really? For the dramatic love story or the social critiques?” You asked, but Namjoon didn’t answer right away. He just looked deep into your eyes, something that resembled longing swirling in the brown weaves of his irises. “The love story,” He spoke softly, not daring to take his eyes off of you. 

      Namjoon looked at you like you were a star in the sky and he was the moon, longing to hold your light in the palms of his hands and never let go. Like he wanted to take you on his personal nature walks and talk to you about all the different flora he’s identified on the trails. Like he wanted you there, 24/7, while he worked on the cars in his garage. Working was a lot less lonely when you had someone to tell you about the anatomy of animal genitalia for an article they were writing that was totally scientific. But Namjoon knew that tomorrow he would have to deliver the news that your car was in working order again. 

And then you would leave him...

      “Let’s go,” Namjoon whispered, giving you his classic dimpled smile that made your heart swoon every time he flashed one at you. Nodding, you got up from the couch and followed him out the door, taking a walk through the village, waving to a few people that you’ve briefly met, and arriving at the small bistro that was situated on a street corner. 

      The inside of the restaurant smell heavenly and made your already empty stomach growl in anticipation. “Hungry?” Namjoon teased with a smile. “Extremely,” You dramatically sighed back, chucking along with him. “Well then, let’s eat, shall we?” 

      “Alright, I know you said you get your money’s worth here, Namjoon. But this sandwich is huge,” You stressed, looking at the thick one foot sub that laid ominously on the ceramic plate in front of you. “You can always save it for later,” He suggested, taking a bite into his own, 6-inch, sandwich. He groaned in delight at the taste. “I love food,” He sighed. “Well, you kinda need it to live, Joon,” You chuckled, taking a bite of your own sandwich.

      Namjoon paused mid bite, looking up at you with wide eyes as you eyed the sandwich currently in your hands, trying to figure out how they made sandwiches that tasted like Gods ambrosia. “J-Joon?” He asked, and you looked up to meet his stunned expression. “Oh, sorry, was that not okay? I won’t say it again,” “N-No! I just, I liked it is all,” Namjoon interrupted, stumbling over his words while he examined the sandwich in his hands like you had been doing moments before. 

     You chuckled, “Well Joon, I saw that you ate my mozzarella sticks,” You playfully scolded, giving him an unimpressed face. “What? You left them in the fridge for too long,” He argued back with a smile while you took another bite of your sandwich. “Mmhmm,” You hummed, chuckling to yourself. “I um, have some good news,” Namjoon spoke up after a beat of silence. 

      You raised your eyebrows, signaling him to continue what he was saying. “Your car should be ready to go tomorrow,” He mumbled, and you stopped chewing. Swallowing-more like gulping-you let out a deep breath that you were unconsciously holding. “O-oh? Is that so?” You said, feeling a tad bit disappointed now that you didn’t have an excuse to stay. 

     Namjoon nodded, fiddling with his sandwich. “Yeah, um, I got it fixed up. All good now,” He coughed, feeling unhappy about the thought of you leaving. “That’s good... Thank you Namjoon,” You said back, truly meaning the words, but not having the excitement to put behind them. 

      The two of you continued to eat and chat with this air of uneasiness around you. Neither one of you talking about the possibility of you leaving tomorrow, continuing your journey and forgetting about the adventures you had here. You weren’t quite sure what you wanted to do. On one hand, you had gotten so used to Namjoon and his presence that being without him would be a hard pill to swallow. But on the other hand, you knew that moving to the city where you could get a job was the safer, and more financially wise, option for you. You were stuck between your happiness and your routine normality that you have gotten used to having. 

      You looked at your now fully packed backpack in contempt. The feeling of dread that you got about leaving Bangtan village only increased as the day went on and you prepared for the journey to the next city over. You didn’t want to go, but could you truly stay? What would you do? What would be your source of income? You didn’t know, and not knowing this made you feel anxious. 

      “Are you ready to go?” Namjoon asked you from the doorway. You looked up at him into his golden amber eyes, not saying anything just yet. You thought about the time you shared with Namjoon. The movie nights, dinners, the time in his shop. All seemingly small and domestic things you never thought about in the moment, but now that you're here getting ready to say goodbye to it all, you weren’t ready to. 

      But you didn’t have a choice. Namjoon wasn’t going to let you live with him forever and you didn’t know if anybody in the town needed a writer for anything, so you had to toughen up and say goodbye with tears stinging in your eyes. “Y-yeah, I guess so,” You mumbled. Namjoon nodded, walking you down to the street where your car was running and waiting. 

      You stood there next to Namjoon for a couple moments. Basking in the comfort of his presence as you took a deep breath and let it out with a weak sigh. “I guess this is goodbye,” You whispered, kicking stones that laid on the sidewalk. “I guess it is,” Namjoon replied, pretending to care about the dirt that forever laid in his nail beds.

      Gathering up all the scattered courage you had, you took a couple steps to your car. You were about ready to opening the driver’s side door when Namjoon called out to you. “Y/n! Wait!” He yelled, as he ran down to your side, putting his hand over yours to stop you from opening the door. “I- Y-yes?” You asked, looking at his fiery, determined eyes. “Stay with me,” He begged quietly.

“What?” You gasped. 

“Stay with me Y/n, here, in the village,” 

“Namjoon, you know I can’t-”

      “Why not? If you’re worried about finding a place to stay, we could live together. I’ll get better at cooking, I promise,” Namjoon wavered, taking your hand fully in his. “Please Y/n, I know we may not know each other that well and you had a plan to move into the city and restart your life but... Can you restart it here? With me?” He begged, confident demeanor slowly slipping away. You were stunned into silence, unable to look away from the man beside you as he gave your hand a squeeze.

      “We can continue to have those movie-nights together. The ones where we watch bad horror films that you still get scared at and hide into my arms to get away from the jumpscares,” He said as the two of you chuckled in harmony. “You can teach me how to cook those amazing dishes of yours... We could even get a puppy in the future...” He whispered to you, gradually getting closer. “Please Y/n. Give me a chance to be your second chance. I promise to take care of you,”

“What about a job?” You asked,

      “There’s this newspaper that the town has, or my friend Jimin knows a publisher that you can reach out to. Maybe you can follow your old dream of becoming an author,” He encouraged as he spoke softly to you. “I know this is sudden, and we don’t know each other all that well, but we can get to know each other,” He finished, eagerly awaiting your answer. 

You didn’t have to think twice before nodding your head, wrapping Namjoon in a hug. “You can be my second chance,” 

#namjoon #kim namjoon #rm #rap monster bts #bts namjoon #bts #bts oneshot #namjoon x reader #rm x reader

[bookandcranny]

Shortwave Radio

Why he decided to leave behind a perfectly good astral cluster and go sight-seeing on a spinning ball of dirt in this great cosmic nothing of a solar system is a mystery to the entire family, but it’s been almost ten years now and so they’ve all had no choice but to conclude that he’s not coming back any time soon. 

The right thing to do is to support him in it, so says tender-hearted big brother Hercules, and if that means jumping through a few hoops to attend some strange human ceremony in this hot and lifeless wasteland, then that’s simply what they’ll do.

summary: Five siblings from the stars come to earth by invitation of their estranged little brother, who’s only request to them is that they take a road trip across the American southwest and try to learn to see this planet the way he sees it.

content warnings: dysfunctional families, carsickness, strong language, fear of abandonment, and accidental misgendering of a nonbinary character

length: about 7k words

also, have a playlist!

🛸🛸🛸

On a particularly sticky day in late July, a black minivan rolls up outside Gruber’s Convenience somewhere in the vague liminal world of the i-110 out of El Paso. Shimmering like a mirage the vehicle comes to a stop and five figures shuffle into the station. Working the counter is a greasy-faced teenager who calls himself Benj, though according to his nametag he’s Benjamin until the end of his shift.

If he weren’t intentionally ignoring the group that just walked in, resenting the loss of quiet and the cool air that just escaped with the chime of the door, Benj would notice a few things about them. For one thing, while they all look quite different, all five of them are wearing the exact same clothes: pale blue t-shirt, gray jeans, plain white sneakers, not a toe scuffed or sullied by the dust they kicked up coming in. They’re perfectly inconspicuous outfits, but too new, too deliberate in their banality. 

The people in the clothes have much the same effect. They’re collections of ordinary, aesthetically pleasing parts assembled as if at random, almost uncanny at the wrong angle. Not supermodel pretty, but perhaps stock photo passable. One of them keeps touching things. Just, touching them. He trails his fingers over snack cakes and little pouches of corn nuts with an unreadable expression. Three of them are clustered together in front of the drinks fridge speaking in hushed tones. 

The last one of the bunch is hovering in the corner making eyes at the shop’s resident mascot, Garfield, an uncreatively named tabby cat who’s taken to sleeping on a box underneath the AC unit. The cashier does notice her (he thinks she’s a her) if only because she’s kind of cute, in a straight-laced camp counselor kinda way. He’s already building up an idea of her in his head, every atom of it more false than he realizes.

The Christine or Sydney or whoever reaches down and gives the cat a poke, which turns into an experimental stroke. 

“Mrph?” says Garfield, like cats do.

“Mrph?” parrots the... Liz maybe? No, not quite, he thinks. Garfield blinks at her, yawns. She withdraws, looking half offended by his indifference.

“Don’t take it personal,” Benj says. “He’s not very social.”

She looks at him for the first time and he reevaluates his earlier assessment. Eyes too pale, too far apart-- not ugly per se but definitely not worth the possible write-up he’d get for flirting with a customer.

“He’s the owner’s cat,” he babbles, scratching his chin and looking anywhere but at her. “Or so they say. Honestly I think he just showed up here one day and no one could get him to leave.”

Before she can reply, one of her matching buddies comes up to the register and dumps an assortment of snacks onto the counter. It’s a baffling, eclectic pile, but like any good retail worker Benj has long since learned not to examine anything too closely.

“Road trip, huh? Where are you guys headed?”

The radio behind the counter has gone all staticky. He fiddles with the antenna.

“Visiting family,” says snacks guy. His voice is soft and monotonous, a stark contrast as the guy’s built like a US SEAL. 

Benj looks from face to face. “All of you?” He’s having a hard time believing any two of them are related.

He nods, once. A stiff, decisive shake of the head. The crackling of the radio is getting worse. Benj turns it off.

“Will that be everything, sir?”

Another nod. 

“Herc, wait!” One of the man’s supposed relatives comes up behind him and shakes him by the shoulders. “Hercules, look at this.”

He slams a book down on the counter, one of the cheap paperbacks Gruber’s pedals between the condoms and the first-aid kit stuffings. The cover reads, “The Chest from The West” and features a heavily airbrushed model in a cowboy hat and unbuttoned flannel shirt.

“What am I looking at?” Herc asks.

“Get this too. I want to read it.”

“Why?”

He opens his mouth but whatever he’s about to say, Benj doesn’t really want to be present for it. He quickly scans the book and throws it cover-side-down into the bag. Let them work this one out on their own, hopefully somewhere else.

“Your total’s $29.75” He spins around to shake the radio, which is somehow now back on and blaring louder. When he turns back, the register is telling him everything’s been bought and paid for. Guy must be lightning quick with a credit card, he thinks.

“Huh. Guess you’re all set, man-- sir.” He hands them their bags. “Have fun at your family thing.”

He flashes the big guy a thumbs up. He looks strangely staggered by the gesture and replies haltingly, “Thank you. You also, have fun.”

“Come on, sibs,” the more energetic one chirps. “Cass? Cass, come on.” He drags his sister away from the cat, who’s just starting to warm up to her. “That’s you, remember? Let’s go.”

They don’t get any gas from the pumps outside. Benj is pretty sure he saw the testy looking one with the ponytail shoplift a bottle of off-brand cola, but he isn’t paid nearly enough to care. At least after they’re gone the radio starts working normally again.

Hercules drives, though it’s not so much driving as sitting in the driver’s seat and telling the van to go. Earth machines are simplistic and easy to manipulate. Slow though. Cass is riding “shotgun”, as is apparently customary for the navigator. Andromeda, Zeta, and Camelopardalis share the backseat, where the formermost is rehashing the same tired debate with the latter.

“We need to work out a better earth name for you,” he insists. “Myself, I’ve been doing some research and I’m thinking about going by ‘Andy’ from now on.”

“I’m not calling you that,” says Zeta.

Camelopardalis asks, “What’s wrong with the name I have?”

“It is a bit long,” Cassiopeia agrees. “A shorter one would help you fit in better.”

“Speaking of fitting in, something else has been bothering me. What’s your gender supposed to be?”

“My what?”

“You know, your gender. We all picked one.”

“It’s almost like you didn’t read the brief,” Zeta says, instigator that she is.

“It’s almost like none of you read the brief, that I took the time to write specifically to help you all acclimate to earth culture.”

“Zeta, don’t upset Cass,” Herc scolds.

“I’m not upset.” She turns in her seat to stare pointedly out the window. There isn’t much to look at, just miles upon miles of rolling desert interrupted by the occasional billboard or truck stop, all crawling by at a snail’s pace compared to the sort of travel they’re used to. Not that she’d recognize the analogy. She misses the cat.

Camelopardalis fiddles with their seatbelt. “Which one are you again?”

“I’m a ‘man’,” Andromeda recites. “Earth men are known for their physical prowess and carnivorous diet, they live in cave environments, and often congregate in packs called ‘fraternities’.” He waves the gas-station novel in the air. “I’m going to research their habits and perfect my persona. By the time I’m done with this I’ll practically be a local.”

“I don’t know… Zeta, what made you decide to be the other one?”

“Flipped a coin.”

“Women,” Cass informs them. “Can be most commonly identified by their long hair, fastidious hygiene habits, the use of traditional face paints to accentuate the eyes and lips, and by fleshy protrusions of the upper torso. Any of these traits can indicate an earth woman, though none are necessarily required.”

They throw up their hands. “How is that helpful at all then! Zeta?”

“What do you want me to do about it? I didn’t invent them. Hercules, are you sure these ‘snacks’ are safe to eat? They have a strange texture.”

“If you don’t like it, don’t eat it.” He punctuates the point by reaching back and grabbing a cream-filled cupcake off the pile. He tears the plastic with his teeth and eats half of it in a single bite. He barely tastes the thing, but he’s hoping if his siblings follow his lead their mouths will be too full to whine at him.

“Yeah, Zeta, don’t be a bitch.” Andromeda opens a pack of mini donuts, albeit more gingerly, and pops one into his mouth.

Cass whips her head around. “Where did you learn that word?”

He holds open the paperback and points to a page.

Austin hesitated. “I’ve never ridden a horse before. What if I fall?”

Derek chuckled manfully. “Don’t be a bitch, city boy,” he teased. Then he placed his large, calloused hand upon the small of Austin’s back. He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry, I won’t ever let you fall.”

The navigator leans over the center console and tries to snatch the book away but he dodges swiftly, clutching it to his chest.

“That’s foul language, Andromeda Alpheratz.”

“Earthers use this kind of speech with each other all the time. It’s a sign of familiarity and affection. You guys need to be less formal if you want to blend in.”

“If it’s meant to be an insult,” Camelopardalis wonders. “Why would they use it to convey affection.”

“Because they’re brutish, unevolved lifeforms,” Zeta sneers. “‘Blend in, blend in’. The rest of you can worry about blending in with the apes. I’m only doing this for Perseus.”

“We’re all doing this for Percy,” Hercules says in a chastising voice that makes even Zeta shrink down in her seat. “So can we please agree to be somewhat civil and not make this trip more painful than it needs to be?”

There’s a murmur of general agreement and peace is restored, however temporarily. Camelopardalis clears their throat.

“I still don’t really understand why we couldn’t land directly at Perseus Nine’s coordinates.”

Cass huffs, blowing a dark curl out of her face. “For the last time, Percy specifically requested we partake in the human ritual of the ‘road-trip’ for this last portion of our journey. It’s the same route he traveled the first time he came to earth, and apparently holds some sort of sentimental significance. It’s important to him we experience the same pilgrimage. For some reason.” 

She adds the last part under her breath, knowing full well the others will still hear her. They can hear one another when separated by countless miles of empty space, their voices resonating from star to star, clear as a bell. Compared to that, the close proximity of a rented minivan is stifling. There’s an uncomfortable intimacy to it, these crudely assembled physical forms pressed together, bloated and heavy with all the trappings of humanity. Sweat and road dust and gravity cling to Cass like an over-warm coat and she longs for the cool estrangement that comes so easily in the void of space. It’s tough to be a star-dweller away from her star.

“The reasons don’t matter,” Herc declares, and his word is as good as law here. He is the eldest of them, though the concept of seniority is abstracted somewhat by the literal millennia they’ve all lived through.

Percy is the baby, as well as the black sheep of the family, so to speak. (His actual moniker among their kinfolk roughly translates to “the dissonant note”, a scathing insult for those who knew what it meant.) Why he decided to leave behind a perfectly good astral cluster and go sight-seeing on a spinning ball of dirt in this great cosmic nothing of a solar system is a mystery to the entire family, but it’s been almost ten years now and so they’ve all had no choice but to conclude that he’s not coming back any time soon. 

The right thing to do is to support him in it, so says tender-hearted big brother Hercules, and if that means jumping through a few hoops to attend some strange human ceremony in this hot and lifeless wasteland, then that’s simply what they’ll do.

“At least we can check one more stop off the list,” Zeta quips. “What’s next?”

Cass checks her itinerary. “We are to visit one national historic landmark, one ‘tourist trap’-- whatever that means-- followed by a stop at ‘Diane’s Diner’, home of the world’s best pie. After that, we can head straight to the meet-up location.” She glances at the clock on the dashboard. “We’re a little behind schedule but we should make it right on time as long as there are no unexpected delays.”

An hour and a half of driving later, Andromeda throws up corn chips and mini donuts all over the back of Herc’s seat.

They pull over on the side of the road. The desert sand is just beginning to give way to sparse yellow grass, brittle from the sun. Herc steadies Andromeda, looking viscerally displeased as he finishes emptying out his recently manifested stomach.

Camelopardalis frets through the whole episode. “We’ve all been eating the same food, except for Zeta. If it’s poisonous, one of us will be next.”

“It’s not poison, it’s carsickness,” Cass sighs. “Honestly, I’m starting to think none of you even looked at the brief.”

“Zeta, look in the back for something to clean up with.”

“Why me?”

“We’re going to lose so much time…”

“Would you rather hold him?”

Andromeda retches.

“Do you think Percy would care if we skipped a couple stops?”

“Cassiopeia Sigma,” Hercules begins sternly.

“Alright, alright. I’ll figure something out.”

Fortunately they’ve happened to stop within walking distance of something called The Trinity Site, according to the map. Camelopardalis and Cass go ahead to check another stop off the list while Zeta and Herc clean up the van and make sure Andromeda isn’t actually dying. (How embarrassing, to be a quasi-immortal astral being only to perish at the hands of a tainted twinkie.)

They wander from the roadside, following the map and occasional signposts, and shortly find themselves standing in front of an ominous looking stone obelisk with a bronze placard affixed to one side.

Trinity Site: Where the world’s first nuclear device was exploded on July 16th, 1945

There’s more but Cass stops reading. Camelopardalis asks her to explain what the plaque means by nuclear device-- they’re familiar with nuclear power as a concept, fission and fusion, ideas not far departed from the system of energy exchange that sustains their natural bodies in the heart of their stars-- but goes pale when she goes into the relevant applications of said devices.

“Wonderful,” she grumbles to herself as she snaps a few photos of the monument with a disposable camera. “I’m sure Percy will be thrilled.”

“Excuse me.”

The pair turn to see a man in a colorful button-up and khakis and a woman with a day-old sunburn peeling off beneath the straps of her tank top. 

“Boy are we happy t’see the two of yous. Couldja take our picture real quick?” 

The woman holds out a camera, a significantly more professional piece of equipment than the one Cass is holding.

“Oh, sure,” Cass replies. She’s nervous as she takes it from her hands. She’s never encountered this sub-species of human in her research before, and finds it difficult to parse the woman’s peculiar dialect. Both of them are smiling, but they’re also showing a lot more teeth (and a fair bit of gum) than she thinks is normal. A subtle threat?

Nevertheless, she fumbles with the camera for a moment before managing to take a decent snapshot. The man wraps an arm around his wife’s waist and she slots herself in against his side.

“Ope, wait, let’s do a silly one to send to Marsha and the kids. Were my eyes closed? No? Perfect, you’re a doll. We’ll leave you kids alone now.”

“Sure,” she says again, feeling out of pace.

“My nephew wears his hair like that,” the man says without segway. He’s talking to Camelopardalis, they realize. “It’s very… hip.”

They touch their hair. They hadn’t given it much thought before, might not ever have if he hadn’t pointed it out. It’s nice, they think.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

His expression flinches into a puzzled frown. Cass smacks their arm.

“Sir! Thank you, sir.”

After they’ve walked away Cass gives him another jab for good measure.

“His hair was longer than the other one’s,” they complain. “And the chest was sort of fleshy. How was I supposed to know?”

“We’re lucky you didn’t cause an incident. Earthers carry weapons in this part of the world.”

They rub their arm. “I don’t know, they seemed nice.”

Still they give a fleeting glance at the plaque behind them and argue no more.

They return to the van, now blessedly puke-free. Andromeda is looking better too. They all pile in and almost immediately Camelopardalis misses the freedom of being able to move without touching somebody. It may be their imagination, but the car seems to be moving slower than ever.

“How was it?” Zeta asks, despite her obvious disinterest.

“Uninspiring,” is Cass’ reply.

The other nods and doesn’t force her to elaborate. “I wish I knew what Perseus intended for us with this… chore list.”

“It’s not important, we just do it.” 

Herc is always a steady presence, but even he is starting to sound annoyed with repeating himself. Zeta, of course, can’t leave well enough alone.

“If we just knew what he wanted us to do or say we could do it and go back to how we were before.”

Cass snaps. “Maybe you should stop complaining and make an effort for once.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

The car erupts into a heated four-way argument. Only Hercules resolutely abstains from comment, though his hands tighten into fists on the steering wheel. The fight doesn’t end in resolution so much as exhaustion. Everyone’s too miserable to keep hurling accusations and insults for the next hundred miles, and at length they lapse back into tense silence.

Zeta rests her head against the window, taking the arythmic rattle into herself, breathing it out in silent, frenetic melodies. She dislikes fighting with her siblings, no matter what they might claim to the contrary. It doesn’t happen often, or didn’t, but things have been different since Percy left home. The littlest star-child had a natural soothing presence to him, one that she’d long taken for granted. Earth is so noisy, she thinks. She strains to listen but she can’t hear a trace of him anywhere.

She tries to imagine what he’d say, if he were here.

“What are we even doing?” 

Probably not that, but she already has everyone’s attention now so she figures she might as well keep going.

“I mean, we’re still behind schedule, we can’t stop bickering, Andromeda can’t even eat right apparently, and I’m pretty sure half of us didn’t even look at Cassiopeia’s brief.”

“Are you getting to a point?” Cass asks irritably.

“I’m just saying we’re all… bitches.”

“Zeta!”

“Get comfortable with it! We’re all bad at this. Me, you, all of us. So can we just stop blaming each other and have a truce in the interest of getting this over with?”

Cass opens her mouth, then lets it fall shut, sinking back into her seat. For a moment it seems they’re heading for another long awkward silence, when Andromeda sits up and points out the window with a sudden urgency.

“Look!”

Herc slows down and they see a billboard lit up in eerie green neon light, directing them to the next off-ramp.

Must see attraction! Visit the one of a kind Ancient Aliens Exhibit! 

The star-folk look at one another.

“Is this what they call a tourist trap?”

“It seems likely.”

Andromeda is glowing-- in a very literal sense-- with excitement. “It’s an exhibit about us.”

“‘Ancient’? Speak for yourself, I’m still only in my six-thousands.”

Needless to say, they do stop at the roadside museum. Cass takes pictures aplenty and, to her surprise, actually enjoys it. Andromeda is disappointed to find there isn’t actually a display dedicated to their kind. Instead there are a lot of grainy photos of some squat, bug-eyed species called “greys” and diagrams of the Egyptian pyramids for some reason. He gets over it by the time they get to the gift shop.

By unanimous decision, they do not buy anymore snacks, though Zeta’s eye does linger on a cooler in the corner advertising “the ice cream of the future!”. Herc does however buy a number of souvenirs. (Rather, he convinces the automated register to record a purchase that didn’t technically take place, and bumps up the number in the bank account of one very nice tour guide while he’s at it.) 

They leave with a mood ring, a handful of polished stones in a small velvet bag, a “gravity defying” purple yo-yo shaped like a UFO, and Camelopardalis sheepishly lays claim to a friendly looking martian figurine with bendable limbs. Overall, spirits are much higher by the time they make it back to the van.

“Hercules,” his meek younger sibling ventures. “Could I try driving? I’ve been curious about it.”

Feeling generous and more than a little tired of staring out at the road for hours at a time, he agrees. He shows Camelopardalis the basics and makes sure they know how not to veer off the road or into other drivers and then he climbs into the middle backseat and stretches out his arms so the siblings on either side of him can tuck in against him and rest. Eventually even the diligent navigator Cassiopeia begins to doze. It’s been a long day and none of them are quite accustomed to the burden of having earthbound bodies.

When Andromeda wakes up the first thing he registers is that it’s getting dark, the day reduced to a slim red band sinking over the horizon. The second thing is the yelling.

“What do you mean you don’t know!”

“I thought I could read the map myself--”

“What about you, navigator? What were you doing?”

“--didn’t mean to--”

“As if you’re one to talk! I can’t believe--”

“--and you were the one who--”

“Shut up!”

Hercules’ normally subdued baritone booms through the van. The windshield wipers begin swinging as if in indignation, while the passengers wince and cover their ears. Andromeda can’t remember a time when his brother’s frequency had felt so violent. The shivering resonance it leaves behind makes his teeth ache.

There’s a pregnant pause, then Cass slams open the door and begins to pace.

“Shit!” she yells at the empty air. They’re parked in a field somewhere, no sign of life save for the buzzing of insects and the rumble of a train somewhere off in the distance. Cass kicks at the ground and screams again. “Shit fuck bitch hell! We are so fucking lost! And so fucking late!”

Andromeda winces again and gets out to try and calm her. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It is not! We’re probably missing the ceremony right now. Percy will never forgive me for this.”

“It wasn’t your fault…”

“I’m supposed to be the navigator!”

“Well, yes, but…” The words come out strangled. He touches his chest and realizes he’s breathing rapidly. His eyes are beginning to water as well. “I should’ve… I didn’t…”

Zeta hurries over to him. “What’s wrong? Are you going to be sick again?”

Without warning he doubles over and begins bawling. 

“Hercules, do something! Something’s wrong with him!”

“Don’t… don’t… don’t…” he gasps and stammers.

Herc clutches his brother. “Don’t what? Talk to me.”

“Don’t fight,�� he finally chokes out. “I don’t want to lose anybody else.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Percy,” he sniffles miserably. “He doesn’t care about us anymore. He has earth now, and all his new earth friends, and we can’t even do this one thing for him. It’s my fault. I knew he hated when I called him a dissonant note and made fun of his earth music but I did it anyway. Now he probably hates me and all of us and this whole thing has been for nothing.”

The eldest braces his arms on Andromeda’s slumped shoulders. “Percy doesn’t hate us. He invited us here because he wanted to see us.”

“Herc’s right, Andromeda. Percy doesn’t have it in him to hate anyone.”

“It’s not easy, but he chose this. He chose earth. We have to respect that.”

Zeta grumbles, “And just what is so special about this stupid planet anyway?”

“It has cats,” Cassiopeia says quietly. Her sister glares but she stays firm. “Well it does. And… people.”

“Strange, silly earth people,” Camelopardalis adds, nervously fussing with their hair. “Confusing and contradictory and fascinating.”

“People who hurt each other for no good reason.”

“People who are kind for no good reason too.”

Andromeda wipes phosphorous tears from his eyes and takes out the rumpled gas-station paperback. “In this book Austin leaves his job as a big city lawyer to follow the cowboy he’s in love with.”

“You think Perseus traveled to earth for cowboy love?”

“It’s a possibility!”

Cass scoffs. “I honestly don’t think he was thinking that far ahead. You know Percy. He probably crash-landed without any plan whatsoever. Or, he probably thought he knew what he was doing, and then when he actually got there he was terrified. And then he probably didn’t want to say anything because he was afraid his siblings would think less of him once they realized he was actually just as clueless about earth stuff as they were. That would probably be really, really stressful for him.”

“Are we still talking about Percy?”

She makes a wordless noise of frustration and kicks up another patch of grass.

Andromeda puts an arm around her. “If… Percy was worried about that, I’d tell her-- him! I’d tell him that he shouldn’t be, because there’s nothing he could do that would make us stop believing in him.”

She exhales. “Thanks.”

“I was talking about you, Cass,” he whispers. “It’s you I believe in.”

“Thank you, I got that.”

“I just… miss him, I guess.”

Herc hums in agreement. “Barely a millennium old and he’s already grown up and gone completely terrestrial. This past century has been the longest of my existence.”

“Hercules, it’s only been ten years.”

That news causes him to make such a face that Zeta starts laughing. It’s the first time she’s so much as cracked a smile the entire trip.

“So… what do we do now?” Camelopardalis asks.

After a moment, Cass grabs the map off the dashboard and holds it open.

“A little more light please?”

They step up behind her and hold a glowing hand over the paper. Her brow creases in concentration.

“Alright, I think we’re somewhere around here,” She gestures. “And we need to be here. There’s no way we’re going to show up on time, but we can still show up. We owe him that much.”

They get in their seats, Herc back at the helm, and begin trying to reclaim the distance they lost with the unplanned detour. Cass breathes a sigh of relief when road signs start to reappear. A driver honks at them as they pick up speed and Herc steers closer and makes their radio start playing at top volume. Zeta opens the window and a cool night breeze tickles her skin. The stars are bright and beautiful above them, and looking up, suddenly home doesn’t feel so far away.

All at once they slow to a near stop.

“What’s going on? Why are we stopping?”

“Traffic,” Herc says like it’s a curse. “Looks like there was an accident.”

“Take this exit,” Cass commands. “We can cut through the next town and get ahead of it.”

So he does and soon they find themselves driving through the quiet streets of Kismet, Nevada. That is, quiet until Zeta catches sight of something out the window and yells, “Pull over!”

“What! What is it now!”

She points, and they see. The sign ahead reads, “Diane’s Diner: Home of the World’s Best Pie”. They pull in so fast they nearly end up colliding with a stout aproned woman who’s pushing a teetering hand cart across the lot.

“What do you maniacs think you’re doing?” she demands as they clambour out of the van.

“I’m very sorry, ma’am,” Cass says in a rush. “It is just very important to my siblings and I that we get to this establishment.”

The woman huffs. “You’re a mite late then, I’m afraid. We’re closing up early tonight. Got a big catering order I have to deliver.”

Herc asks, “Are you Diane, of the diner?”

She laughs. “Close. I’m Maddie Finkle of the diner. Diane’s my mother’s name. It’s a family business. But what brings you folks here looking for Diane at this time of night? I don’t think I’ve seen your faces around town before, and I always remember a customer.”

“Do you remember a customer named Percy? It would’ve been years ago, but this place was very important to him. He’s our brother.”

Maddie’s eyes light up. “Why didn’t you say so! Of course I know Percy. And if you rowdy lot are his siblings, then I’ve got a message for you.”

“A message?” Percy hadn’t said anything to them about a message. Maybe this was his way of ensuring they actually made it to the last stop on his list.

“Well, sort of. Come, come, help me load up all this grub and I’ll tell you everything.”

Herc and Zeta go to either side of her and help push the wobbly cart to a truck with the diner’s logo emblazoned on the side. As they load the boxes, Maddie speaks.

“I first met your Percy when I was just a waitress, mama still working the kitchen. One day this kid walks in, looking as lost as can be, comes straight up to the counter and tells me he’s just fallen from outer space and could use some assistance.” She barks a laugh. “I didn’t go for the whole alien thing but that second part was a lot more believable. He looked a mess. I asked if he needed something to eat but he just said he needed a safe place to rest for a moment. He’d been on his feet all day, walking and hitchhiking his way clear across the desert.

“Of course I wanted to know where he was going that was so important, but he said he didn’t know for sure yet. Said he was following a melody, a song he’d heard from very far away that had drawn him to this place. I told him I couldn’t help him there. The only music we had in the diner was this old stereo system mama had put in when she first opened the place and it was long broken. Mama was too sentimental to get rid of the old thing and the repairman couldn’t do anything for it so broken it stayed. 

“He asked me to show him so I did, figuring it couldn’t hurt anything. Then that kid walked up to the busted speaker and just like that it started playing again like it was new. I told him, ‘For that, I owe you more than a place to rest your legs. Stay in town for a while, let us put you up and get you back on your feet, or at least let me drive you to the train station so you can get where you’re going.’ But he refused, and before long he was gone again.

“Then, not a couple days later, spaceboy comes back traveling with this other kid, heading in the opposite direction. I ask him what happened and he says he was going one way but he changed his mind and turned around. He leans in like he’s sharing a great big secret, like we’ve been friends all our lives, and says, ‘I found it, Maddie. I found the song.’ Weirdest kid I’ve ever met! But they make a cute couple, him and that boy, and they’re some of my best customers to this day.”

They finish packing up the truck, Maddie leaning leisurely against the fender as she reminisces. Herc frowns, confused.

“Was that the message?”

“Yup.” She pops the P. “He just told me to tell you the story. Not sure why. I mean, it’s a good story, I think. But you already know all about it, right? You’re his family after all.”

“No, he never told us,” he admits softly.

“Huh. Weird. But then, he’s kind of a weird kid, yeah? I always wondered, is it all you aliens who talk in riddles like that, or just him?”

“I thought you said you didn’t believe his claims.”

“I didn’t the first time, but if your Percy’s one thing it’s… Perc-istent.” When no one laughs, she pushes onward. “Well, that’s all of it. We’d better get a move on, huh?”

“‘We’?”  

“Sure, aren’t you folks on your way to Percy’s place too? I figured you’d be staying over, and I gotta get everything set up for the wedding tomorrow.”

A palpable shock ripples through the star-folk. “Tomorrow?”

“‘Course, what did you think all this was for?” She pats the truck. “I wanted to get everything ready ahead of time so we’re good to go in the morning. It’s not easy being the caterer and providing my lovely self as a guest on the same day, but I couldn’t let those sweet boys down.”

Andromeda slumps over, leaning on Herc for support. “Percy told us the wedding was tonight.”

The chef raises an eyebrow. “Sounds like someone’s been having a little fun with you. Nah, they’re doing some sort of get-together tonight since neither one of the bachelors wanted a bachelor party, but the actual wedding ceremony’s definitely not until tomorrow.”

“I’m going to end him,” Cass mutters under her breath.

“Hurry up now,” she says. “I’m sure the groom-to-be’s expecting you.”

The five follow Maddie’s truck away from the main drags, away from the buildings, the scenery becoming gradually greener as the road turns from asphalt to gravel. At last they find themselves pulling up in front of the house that Percy has come to call home. It’s a raised ranch, flanked by evergreens and patchwork plots of small white and yellow flowers that Percy’s fiance must have planted, and a tower of plastic chairs and tables covered by a tarp. 

It’s a nice place, large and somewhat secluded, set apart from the noise of traffic or threat of nosy human neighbors. Percy’s sensitive to loud noise and, after all, still an alien living in secret amongst humanity. Yet as they get out and follow the caterer where she’s cutting around back through the garden, they’re struck by the sounds of laughter and music and lively chatter.

A group of earthers are gathered on the patio, smiling faces lit by a string of twinkling lights. A man with a guitar strums along with the music coming from inside.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Andromeda whispers. 

“You think there’s a second Perseus Nine about to be married in this town?” Cass shoots back.

Zeta hisses, “Quiet, I can hear him.”

To his surprise, Herc can too. Above the noise, laced into everything he touches, there is a resonance, his baby brother’s unique personal frequency. To describe it as sound alone would perhaps be inaccurate; it’s a vibration, an echo. Percy is everywhere in this place: his whispers and his shouts, his twinkling laugh, but also the part of him that no human being can detect, the part of him that is still, and will always be, of the stars.

He must sense them too, because in that moment he appears standing in the doorway, bathed in its yellow light. His face breaks out in a glowing grin and he runs to greet them, bolting like a comet being pulled into his siblings’ orbit.

“You made it!” he exclaims.

Zeta snorts and allows him to throw his arms around her. “No thanks to you and your list of demands.”

“You brat,” Cass accuses. “You told us the ceremony was tonight.”

Percy tilts his head to look at her, his expression not half as guilty as it should be. For a moment she reels at the sight of him; the body he’s constructed for himself has aged since the last time they crossed paths. It’s subtle, the way his dimples have deepened into true laugh lines, and his hair has grown ever longer, though it also isn’t as tangled as she remembers. He is still himself, underneath, the light of his true being faintly visible beneath the skin. 

“I was worried if I told you the real date you wouldn’t make it in time. You’re not used to traveling the human way. It can be messy.”

She grimaces. “You’re not wrong.”

“You’re actually here way earlier than I thought you’d be.” His smile falters, only slightly. “This is… everyone?”

Herc swallows. “The others…” he begins, but quickly finds he doesn’t have the words that should follow.

“Well, it’s not like I had enough chairs for all two-hundred-ninety-seven of them anyway.” He reaches out and squeezes his brothers tightly. “Hercules, Andromeda, It’s so wonderful to see you. Camelopardalis, Cassiopeia, it means so much to me that you came. I know it probably wasn’t easy. Zeta…”

She scoffs. “The only hard part was putting up with these bitches.”

Hercules interjects, “We shouldn’t keep you from your party. Go on, I need to get some things from the van.”

“You didn’t bring presents, did you?”

“It’s customary for weddings, is it not?”

Percy grins. “You’re becoming a real expert on earth customs.”

He shrugs and looks at Cass. “I just read the brief.”

Percy invites his family in, along with Maddie, who is perfectly tickled by the siblings’ awkward affection. After helping her bring in the food, Percy beckons over the man with the guitar.

“Adam!”

The man looks up. He has a boyish, freckled face and a head of dark curls that spill over his brow. He sets down the instrument and comes to slot himself against Percy’s side, thoughtlessly, as if that was always where he was meant to be.

“I’d like to formally introduce you to my fiance, Adam. And Adam, this is my family.”

His smile broadens. “Hey, great to finally really meet you guys. Percy talks about you all the time. Did you have a long trip?”

They look at one another for a moment until finally Herc shrugs and says, “Only about twenty-five trillion miles, give or take.”

The happy couple linger for a moment longer, sharing stories and talking about honeymoon plans. Adam is especially thrilled when Andromeda and Zeta begin to co-narrate an embarrassing tale from Percy’s childhood in the Alpha Persei Cluster. Eventually though the pair wander off together, leaving the star-folk to their most harrowing challenge yet: mingling.

“Sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Camelopardalis.”

The guest, one of the couple’s mutual friends, goes a bit bug-eyed. “Wow, okay, that’s really cool. Kind of a mouthful though. Got a nickname?”

“Nick… name?”

“Like, something that your friends call you for short. My friends call me Dee, but my highschool nickname was Dent.” They point to a scar on the side of their head, just above their left ear. Their fair hair is buzzed short, making it easy to see. “Long story. What if for now I called you ‘Cam’?”

They consider it. “I think I’d like that.”

“Cool, nice to meet you, Cam.”

“Nice to meet you, Dee.” They hesitate. “Would you say you’re a man or a woman?”

Dee frowns.

“Nevermind! I’m so sorry, I just don’t understand the earth gender binary at all. Everything about it just seems so arbitrary and senseless.”

Oddly enough, their new friend perks back up at this. 

“Honestly, same,” they laugh.

Andromeda joins shortly, having struck up a conversation with Dee’s partner who is deeply intrigued by his review of “The Chest from The West”. The three of them spend a while swapping book recommendations. Meanwhile, Zeta gets hit on by a slightly intoxicated young woman with an undercut and an eyebrow ring, although the star-dweller vastly misinterprets her none-too-subtle questioning about alien biology. Cass meets Adam and Percy’s pet dog, Chowder, and deems him as good a companion as the convenience store cat.

Herc catches Percy alone in the kitchen and the two have a long overdue talk. It’s clumsy but earnest, and when Herc mumbles something out about possible future family visits, Percy throws himself into his brother with such vigor that he momentarily forgets about gravity and starts to float off the ground.

“I’m sorry too, by the way, for the whole thing with the list,” he sighs. “It probably seems pretty stupid, I just kind of hoped I could get you to see this world the way I see it. Full of life and love and adventure.”

“And music,” he finishes, catching the way his gaze flits back to the patio. To Adam, singing softly and dancing with one of their friends.

He nods. “I thought maybe then you’d understand why this is so important to me.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to see earth the way you do,” Hercules confesses. “But I don’t think it was stupid of you to try either, and I don’t think it was for nothing.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the mood ring. The friendly prismatic face of a cartoon alien glints up at him. Perseus takes the gift with an understanding chuckle and slips it onto his pinky finger.

“No, not for nothing.”

Tomorrow, there will be a wedding. Percy and Adam will stand in front of their friends and family and exchange their vows. Adam’s mother will complain about them not booking a proper venue for just short of an annoying amount of time, Maddie will bring out a ridiculously tall tier cake that will taste almost as good as one of her mother’s pies, and for once Percy will not be the worst one on the dance floor. 

Tomorrow, there will be a bright silver band around Percy’s fourth finger, neighbored by a smaller ring in the shape of an inside joke, and with all the weight of a promise.

#aliens #original fiction #writeblr #short story #original writing #road trip #me? posting my writing again? its more likely than u think #lgbt #my writing

[obwjam]

A Small World (Luke Skywalker x borrower!reader)

a/n: hm so nobody asked for this but here it is anyway! i’ve had this idea forever now where luke finds himself shrunk on a foreign planet and needs to get back to han and leia and he just happens makes a new friend along the way cause that’s what luke does best. and this is my first real piece of star wars g/t content!! i hope you enjoy :-)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luke Skywalker was always getting himself into trouble. It was only natural, now that he was freely running around with the likes of Han and Leia after having blown up multiple giant death machines. He was grateful that his Jedi training had prepared him to deal with anything.

Well, almost anything.

Han told him to steer clear of this guy. There were plenty of other merchants on this planet who could give Luke the information he wanted. But Luke was stubborn that way. He was pretty sure that his plan was the only plan to stick to.

But Han was right. This guy was bad news. And when Luke made him mad, he waved his webbed hands spat some mean-spirited words that Luke didn’t understand at the time. He was on his way back to the Falcon when his head started to hurt and a buzzing filled his ears. He staggered off into an empty alley with his hands grasping clumps of his hair. He squeezes his eyes shut. It felt like his body was being ripped apart at the seams.

Suddenly, the pain stopped. Luke opened his eyes and groaned. What happened? And why was it so dark out now?

He took a shaky step forward and nearly tripped over a rock. Wait. A rock? There were no rocks here. It was all sand. He took a few more steps before realizing something was severely off.

That’s when he looked up. The buildings towered above him like skyscrapers.

He was four inches tall.

Luke’s hand flung to his waist. Good. His lightsaber was still there. 

“I’ve gotta get to the Falcon before Han and Leia get too worried!” Luke said to himself. He didn’t know how far he’d need to walk, but it couldn’t be too far, right?

Wrong.

Almost 15 minutes had passed and Luke was still in the alley. It felt like he had barely moved. He was beginning to get frustrated.

“How am I supposed to--” he started, but the sound of a low, menacing growl cut him off.

He turned around. A creature that was normally the size of a mouse was now towering over him, ready to turn him into dinner.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Luke grumbled, grabbing his lightsaber and preparing to fight.

He wouldn’t have to fight for long. 

You were getting ready to find tonight’s dinner when you saw something almost inconceivable -- another borrower. Except he wasn’t dressed at all like a borrower. He was much too clean. You hadn’t seen any other borrowers in over a decade. Being in this place was a death trap with so many people around, but you had grown used to it. The thrill of sneaking around was quite empowering. But the people who came and went from this market were the scum of any planet. Bounty hunters; mercenaries; people who just wanted to cause trouble for fun. It took a lot of skill to avoid being seen for this long, and you had grown territorial over the space you had carved out as your own. This new person -- borrower, shapeshifter, whatever he was -- was a threat. And you weren’t going to let him feel like this place was his.

In the blink of an eye, you jumped out from the shadows wielding two weapons of your own. With theatrics that could rival a Jedi, you jumped and spun and twirled your weapons with the exact precision needed to drive the creature away. You had fought this thing hundreds of times. 

Luke stared at you in awe. It took him a moment to get over his admiration of your fighting skills to realize he had just been saved by another tiny person. Luke stared at the creature running away before turning around to give you his thanks. He was met with a sword inches from his face.

“Who are you?” you snarled.

Luke, surprised but not interested in sparring anyone, held his hands up. “We don’t have to fight.”

“Answer me!” you cried, trying to hide how your voice shook. Whoever this boy was, you were certain he was trouble.

“I’m Luke Skywalker,” he answered calmly. 

You blinked. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“Look, I don’t want to cause any trouble--”

“--too late,” you cut him off. “You already have. Now what are you doing here? What do you want?”

“I — I don’t know,” he stammered. “I have no idea what happened — I don’t know why — I just want to get back to my friends.” There was a franticness to his voice. Your expression fell. “I don’t know what’s happened to me, but I know my friends can help me fix it.” He paused. “Maybe they can help you too.”

You cocked your head. “Help me? I don’t need any help.”

“But… you’re tiny! Just like me! Don’t you want to get back to normal?”

“What are you talking about?” you asked. By this point, you had lowered your sword. “Is this not… are you…” 

Your mind was spinning trying to come up with an explanation for what you were thinking. It didn’t seem possible.

You took a tentative breath. “You’re… definitely not a borrower, are you?” 

Luke raised his eyebrow. “A borrower? I don’t even know what that is. All I know is that the merchant at the pottery stand -- he did this to me, I just know it. He didn’t do this to you too?”

You cautiously shook your head. Luke’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head.

“Wow,” he breathed, rubbing his chin. “So you’re just a regular tiny person, then.”

You didn’t know what to say, much less what to do with this Luke guy. It was so obvious now he was human — the small, round ears were a dead giveaway that you didn’t notice before. It was bad enough to be discovered by a giant -- if you could even call him that right now -- and even worse to engage in conversation with one. He certainly wasn’t going to leave you alone now. 

“Listen, I don’t know what your problem is with me, but I would really just appreciate some help navigating this place. My friends are waiting for me at the docking port. Do you know the quickest way to get there?”

You hesitated to answer. Why should you help this guy? What was in it for you? You had no idea how he got shrunk in the first place, and you were certain his friends wouldn’t know either. 

But there was no getting rid of this guy. He just kept staring at you with those bright, lost eyes of his, waiting for an answer. 

“Alright,” you said finally. He perked up. “I’ll help you. On two conditions.” Luke nodded eagerly. “Condition one. You don’t ask me any questions. Condition two. When we get to the port, you forget you ever saw me.”

You didn’t wait for his response before taking off in the other direction. Luke blinked, trying to process what you had just thrown at him, before taking off after you. 

“Do you have a name?” he asked immediately.

You shot him a look. “That’s a question.”

“Oh. Right.” He glanced around, trying to think of a way to make conversation without asking one of the millions of questions he had. 

“Thanks for saving me back there,” he finally said. 

You shrugged. 

“The way you moved was pretty impressive.” You could hear the smile in his voice. You rolled your eyes. 

“Can’t survive without knowing how to fight.” 

“Have you ever tried taming that beast? Maybe you could use it to your advantage.”

You groaned. “Unless I’m speaking another language here, in which case please let me know, but I believe I said not even a minute ago to not ask me any questions.”

Luke didn’t respond. I’ll get through to them soon.

You marched on begrudgingly, annoyed that this Luke guy decided he wasn’t going to listen to your request. Typical giant behavior. But you rationalized taking this trip because the port was a gold mine for supplies, and you rarely took the time to go there.

“Everything really looks different from down here,” Luke said after a few minutes of silence. “You notice things that you never would before.”

“Hm.” 

“These trash cans look like full-size buildings. And boy, it really takes a long time to make it from one place to the other.”

“This is nothing,” you scoffed. 

“Is it usually this dark?”

“Dark?” you replied. 

“Yeah. It almost feels like night time down here.”

“You have some pretty bad eyes, then.”

“What about--”

“Shush,” you snapped, holding your arm out to stop him in his tracks. You pushed him with a surprising amount of strength into the darkness against a wall.

Luke looked up in a mix of wonderment and horror at a group of people walking through the alley. The crunch of the sand beneath their steps sounded like boulders being crushed to rubble. Watching their shadows pass overhead was like witnessing a solar eclipse. They seemed to move in slow motion, but in the blink of an eye they were far beyond the spot where you and him were hiding.

You stole a glance at Luke’s face. His mouth was slightly agape and his eyes seemed to shake in fright. His hand was twitching right above the weapon pinned to his belt.

Once the giants were far enough away, you gave him a nudge. “Let’s keep moving.”

Luke said nothing and kept his eyes trained to the ground as you finally made your way out of the alley and into the open market. 

“Okay, the port is this way,” you pointed. “Stay close to the walls and look for something we could jump on to get us there faster.”

“Jump on?”

“Yeah. Droids are usually a good bet, especially the pit droids. They’re always too stupid to realize I’m there.” 

Luke pursed his lips. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Won’t someone see us?”

“How often do you look at the feet of droids for tiny people?” you asked mockingly. “Come on.”

Luke stayed extra cautious, sometimes ducking behind you when he thought someone was looking in your direction. But you’ve done this countless times. You knew the exact spots to fade into and the right route to take. 

“How often do you do this?” Luke asked, almost reading your mind. 

“That’s a question,” you reminded him. 

“Oh. I forgot about that,” he said all-too-innocently. “So I really can’t ask you anything?”

You let out an exasperated laugh. “You really don’t like to listen, do you?”

Luke shrugged. “I guess I got it from my father.”

You sighed, but perked up upon seeing a pit droid limping its way toward you. 

“Perfect. Okay, I need you to follow my lead on this. We’re going to hitch a ride on that pit droid. It’s coming from the scrap heap, so it’s on its way back to the port. You just need to jump and grab onto anything to keep you stable.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Luke said, eyes trained on the droid as it hobbled your way. He pretended not to focus on the fact that this was a three-foot-tall pit droid as it approached like at AT-AT. Once it was in range, he leaped up and easily grabbed onto a few loose wires. He was surprised to see you practically right next to him, both clinging to the wires for dear life as you got your footing.

“Nice jump,” Luke smiled.

“Could say the same for you,” you said. “You look like you’ve done this before.”

Luke was too enthralled by his surroundings to respond to that. “This is -- woah -- this is incredible,” he breathed. His words bounced up and down to the rhythm of the droid’s steps as he gawked up at the merchant stands and the hundreds of people scuttling by.

You scoffed. “Shouldn’t you be used to this?”

“No… it’s not like this.” 

You couldn’t believe the way he seemed to glow as he took in his new view. Though you joked about it, this was a life-or-death ride you were taking. And he was treating it like a carnival ride. It was… endearing, somehow, that his sense of wonder seemed to overpower his fear.

From there, it didn’t take long to reach the port. When the droid turned a corner, you motioned to Luke to jump off. Making a smooth landing, you ran over to the nearest object to catch your breath.

“I can’t believe nobody saw us,” Luke remarked, staring up at the giant ships surrounding him.

“Told ya,” you said, a hint of amusement to your voice. “Do you see your ship?”

“Not… yet…” Luke was straining his neck. He honestly couldn’t tell what any of these ships looked like.

“What does it look like?” you asked on cue. 

“It’s, well, it’s two convex saucers welded together, a pair of front-facing mandibles and an outrigger-style, side-mounted cockpit with transparisteel viewports.”

You blinked.

“It’s a circle,” Luke laughed. “A big, flat circle. With some pointy ends.”

“Oh,” you nodded, definitely getting a clearer picture. “Well, why don’t we just keep walking and see what we find.”

“You’ve never been on a ship before, have you?”

“Why in the galaxy would I ever go on a ship?” you replied in bemusement.

Luke shrugged. “I’m a pilot, you know. That was my only dream. I grew up on this farm, see, on Tatooine. Do you know where that is?”

You shook your head.

“It’s a big desert planet. A giant hunk of sand and rock, kinda like this place. I wanted nothing more than to leave.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

You laughed. “I suppose you are.” A pause. “Is this your ship we’re going to?”

“No, it’s my friend’s.”

“Right. Your friends. They’re… here with you.”

“That’s right.”

You bit your lip. “Once we get close to the ship, you can make it on your own from there.”

“What?” Luke stopped walking to turn to you. “You don’t want to meet them?”

“Meet them -- are you kidding? Why would I want to meet giants?”

“They would never hurt you. They’re the kindest people I know.”

You shook your head. “Doesn’t matter. This,” you gestured at him, “this is your problem. I’ve taken you this far, which is way farther than you would have ever gotten on your own. I think I’ve helped enough.”

“Wait!” Luke cried, almost desperately. “You have to let us help you. You live alone in this awful place! It’s not safe.”

“I’ve been fine for as long as I’ve been alive,” you snapped. “I don’t need a savior.”

“But--”

You ran your hand through your hair in disbelief. “I knew it. I knew I couldn’t help a giant without them getting... irrationally attached. We had two conditions, and you didn’t listen to either one! I was going about my day normally until -- until you showed up, and -- and ruined it!”

Luke’s eyes went wide. He was surprised at your outburst, but somehow, he understood it.

“I’m not a giant,” he said finally.

“What? What do you mean? Of course you are.”

“Do I look like one?” he asked, now a few inches away from your face. “We’re the same size.” You opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off. “Earlier, when I met you. If I had lied about being a borrower… would you still be acting cold toward me?”

You clenched your jaw. You had no answer to that, because you knew where he was going with this.

“We have to keep moving.” 

Luke felt a pang of guilt as you continued on. Maybe he had gone a little too far, but he just wanted to help. He didn’t even want to spend an hour of his day at this height; he couldn’t imagine what it had been like your whole life.

After 30 excruciatingly silent minutes of ducking behind barrels and craning his neck, Luke’s tired eyes finally landed on the Falcon, tucked away in a secluded corner. 

“There. That one,” he pointed straight ahead. You finally understood what he meant by giant, flat circle. You had never really taken the time to look at a ship before. You could feel your stomach starting to turn at the sheer size of it.

Luke took a few tentative steps in its direction. To his delight, you followed.

With no words spoken, you approached the base of the Falcon. The door was open, but no one appeared to be home.

Luke stood at the base of the platform in front of him. It was like entering a palace. 

“I can’t sense them,” he muttered to himself. He turned to you. “They must have gone out looking for me.”

You too were staring in a trance at the entrance to the Falcon. You had never, ever seen something so massive. You could barely comprehend how something this big even existed and functioned.

Carefully, you took a step. Then another, then another, then another, until you were walking up the platform with a surprised Luke in tow. The metal was cool and quiet.

Once you reached the threshold, you turned around, took a breath, and sat down. Luke mirrored your actions. You sat in silence, surveying the breathtaking view you suddenly had of the whole port. So this is what it feels like.

“(Y/n).”

Luke turned. “Huh?”

“(Y/n). That’s my name,” you mumbled. “You wanted to know my name.”

“(Y/n),” Luke repeated. You couldn’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “That’s a nice name.”

You shrugged. “It’s a name.”

A beat of silence.

“It’s an incredible view,” Luke said finally.

“Yeah. It really is.”

A pause.

“Look--”

“I’m sorry, I--”

You both chuckled. 

“You go first,” Luke said.

You took a shaky breath. “I was just going to say… I’m glad I got you back to your friends safely. I hope they can help you out. Don’t think you want to stay like this forever.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Luke laughed. “What if we could help you, too? If I can grow back, why can’t you?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know, I--”

Suddenly, your stomach dropped. Fast approaching were two giants -- one man with a black vest and tall boots, and a woman in white pants and a white long-sleeve. Luke jumped up.

“HAN!!! LEIA!!! IT’S ME! LUKE! I’M DOWN HERE, I’M DOWN HERE!”

You were frozen to your spot, watching in horror at Luke hopping up and down. It was even more terrifying to see the giants realize what was going on. You had nowhere to run this time.

“Oh my -- Luke?!” The woman -- Leia -- nearly buckled over. She blinked furiously as she took cautious steps, making sure she was seeing things correctly.

“Luke? What are you -- holy crap.” The man -- Han -- his face was so contorted it almost looked unnatural. It looked like he was malfunctioning. 

Slowly, the two giants bent down. Luke swallowed, but quickly got over his fear in favor of the adrenaline rush. He was going to be okay!

“Han, Leia! I don’t know what happened to me! One minute I was trying to get some information, and then--”

“--It was that blasted pottery merchant, wasn’t it!” Han growled, making you flinch. Luke nodded sheepishly. “Oh, geez -- kid, I told you not to mess with that guy! Now look at you. You’re a pipsqueak.” 

“Are you okay? How do you feel?” Leia asked frantically.

“I feel fine. Nothing’s wrong, I’m just… small.”

“I’ll tell Chewie to fire up the ship, we have to -- uhm.” It didn’t take Han long to notice that Luke had a companion with him. A companion that was the same exact height as him. He furrowed his brow as he stared right through you. You were shaking.

“Kid? Who the hell is this?”

“Oh, this -- this is --” Luke paused. He could clearly see the trembling that was wracking your body. All the color had flushed from your face, and you couldn’t stop staring straight ahead at Han and Leia. You were frozen.

“Hey,” he said gently. “(Y/n).”

You turned to him, and he gently grabbed your arm.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. You stared intently back into his eyes, which were flickering like the glow of a firelight. “They’re not going to hurt you, I promise. They’re a little shocked, but they’ll get over it. I know it. Okay?”

You took a deep breath, and gave a single nod. Your tremors had stopped.

“This is (Y/n),” Luke said, louder this time. “They helped me get here. They’re… they’re my friend.”

Han stared blankly for a moment. “Well, let’s all sing kumbaya,” he groaned, standing back up to his full height and making his way to the cockpit. “Luke made a friend!”

“You are insufferable, you know that?” Leia called back to him as he walked away. You couldn’t help but gawk at him until he turned a corner, out of sight. 

Leia shook her head and turned back to you. She slowly lowered her open palm down next to Luke, who stared at it with the same unease that you did.

“Come on, let’s get you both inside,” she said calmly. “You could probably use some rest.”

Luke stood, surprised he could stay balanced on such shaky legs. He turned to you and, with a knowing smile, he held his hand out.

You smiled back, and took it.

#g/t #lowkey highkey been working on this one all week lmao #this was also inspired by a TON of the asks i got so this is really one big collab #han being a bitch because he can #obwrites #star wars g/t #giant/tiny

[poormeowmeowcollector]

First Kiss, But Not On The Lips

Pair: Tony/ace!Loki (platonic)

Warnings: mentions of insomnia, nightmares, panic attack, isolation and alcohol.

Notes: Basically, the idiots in love trope is my favourite. Tony is a bi mess, Loki doesn't care about a thing (or cares about too many things), Thor is a himbo and Steve is trying. Also, yes, Loki has the ace ring (and a pride flag in his room) and he legally cannot sit like a normal person. And Steve lost the bet because he didn't expect Tony to find out about his crush on Loki within a month.

Read on AO3

"You know what, I get it. We all deserve second chances and blah blah blah, but can't Loki redeem his name on another solar system? What about Jötunnheim? He did a genocide there too!" Tony argues. At least he moves past the redeem part.

"I told you they would not accept me," Loki sighs at Thor, trying to appear stoic. But Tony sees the disappointment in him. Because he knows how to spot it in the mirror.

"Fine, he can stay for a month as a testing period. But if he causes trouble, he's gone," Steve decides. He loves speaking out the decisions even though no one will disagree.

And Thor smiles widely and hugs his brother. But Tony can still see the disappointment in Loki.

~~~

Sleeping is hard while knowing he's in the same building. Tony expected it, but it's still annoying.

"You know he was a victim too, why are you so afraid?" He asks himself but no answer is given.

He knows he won't be able to sleep, and there is a broken suit waiting for him in the lab.

Well, if he's about to pull an all nighter, he better be productive.

~~~

Tony had gotten his all nighter on a schedule. He would wait until Steve is asleep, go to the lab, and return to his bed only one hour before Steve wakes up. Of course and they all noticed his dark circles and moodiness, but he would blame nightmares and get away with it. Not that he was lying.

And, apparently, Tony is not the only one with sleeping issues.

Thor was claiming that Gods don't need sleep or nutrition. But Thor is also a sleeper and eats every time like it's his last time. But Loki doesn't. He barely touches whatever food is placed in front of him or drinks a little water and he looks more sleep deprived than Tony. But no one has the guts to say to a thousand years old powerful cranky god to go sleep or to eat, not even Thor.

And he doesn't talk. It's been days since his voice was heard. Thor doesn't like it, but the few times he mentioned it or tried to get Loki to speak or take part in a talk, he only got a glare. And Tony still doesn't know how Thor still makes Loki even get out of his room.

~~~

Once again, Tony is working on a new suit, during his favourite inhuman hours. Because two things come out at 3am, the devil and Tony Stark.

But the first dude is not helping Tony with the non functioning leg that's driving him insane.

"It's not going to work," Someone comments from the lab's door. Who the hell is up that late?

"Excuse me?" Tony turns around, only to face Loki leaning against the door frame.

"Remaking the joint to resemble a human's is not going to work. You need less strength and more flexibility, probably even another material," Loki explains, staring at Tony. He makes a small nod. Loki then straightens himself and walks closer.

"You know about mechanical engineering?" Tony asks.

"Science, magic, it's all the same on Asgard… and I happen to be the Master of Magic, and therefore…" He trails off, something sad blooming in his eyes. Homesickness, Tony recognises with ease.

"Alright, so, how do you think we'll make it work?" Tony asks, a grin on his face. But instead of answering, Loki just lifts his sleeves and grabs a wrench.

Tony watches as Loki plays with the machine—he looks more like he plays than like he's repairing something—and uses his magic to change the elements on the materials, green glows appearing and disappearing. And, after the five minutes it took him, the leg is perfect.

"Wow…" Tony whistles. Loki grins and sits on the working table, spinning the wrench on his fingers.

"It will probably last for a millennium or two," He shrugs, like it's something easy. And Tony is more impressed.

And they go on with the suit, finishing it before it's time for Tony to go and pretend he's sleeping. And Tony would use this time.

"Well, I didn't know you're good at engineering," Tony trails off. Loki shrugs in response, again sitting on the table with his legs in lotus position.

"You never asked,"

"Yeah, sorry about that. You are just too…" He suddenly can't find the word.

"Cold?" Loki asks, raising his eyebrows at Tony.

"Reserved is how I would phrase it, actually," Tony responds, making Loki hum.

"You know what, nevermind. I'm asking now. What do you like? What don't you like? Just rumble about things," He decides, big brown eyes staring at Loki. And he responds with another shrug.

"I don't know… it is quite late, so I'll probably head to my bed. Good morning, Stark," He jumps up and leaves, before Tony can even think of stopping him.

Right, he's just waiting for people to ask…

"So… Do you remember the rumble offer? Cause it still stands," Tony eyes Loki. And Loki responds with a smile.

~~~

The next morning, Loki didn't appear. Thor explained that he crashed on the bed. And it must be the hell of a sleep because he got out of his room three days after. Again, while Tony was working on a suit.

"Hey, wanna help?" Tony yells at Loki as he walks outside of the lab. And Loki nods a yes and gets to work.

"Still not sleeping, Stark?" He asks, his smart eyes pinned on the helmet of the suit.

"No rest for the wicked," Tony smiles. Looks like he's more talkative now that he's fresh.

"Tell me about it…" He sighs. Then, he grunts a bit, probably gotten hit by some remaining electricity.

Tony hadn't noticed before how pretty Loki's smile is.

And Loki takes the opportunity and starts to talk. Tony learns a lot about Loki during the Great Rumble. Dandelions are his favourite flowers, thanks to the Æsir library he became an encyclopaedia of random fun facts (even took it far enough to share some), he's a cat person, he loves classical music or music without lyrics, and then he starts sharing some stories of him and Thor as kids.

But Tony notices other things too. He noticed that Loki's eyes seem to glow when he talks about things that make him happy, he moves his hands around, he has this cute little smile that makes his face shine. And when he talks fast, his Nordic accent slips out—just some trilled 'r's or some harder sounds—and he also has a stutter that slips out. And Tony finds all of those so beautiful, but he can't say it.

"Your turn," Loki says. And Tony freezes.

Because his mind is nothing but simping for Loki, right now.

"I… em… Ya know, I…" He mutters, trying to think of something. But, Goddamnit, those shining green eyes pinning on him and waiting are so distracting.

"I'm actually bisexual, but more attracted to women than men," He snaps, finally finding something. But what if Asgard is not so accepting? Earth is having issues with those things and those guys live in the middle ages.

"Oh, nice," Loki shrugs after noticing Tony's brief pause. And it's enough to relax Tony.

"And… Dammit, this is so hard… I like cheeseburgers?" He squirts. "I don't know, can't think of something right now… when something pops up, I'll let you know," He gives up and rubs his nose bridge.

"No worries, you're hot anyways,"

Loki grins after seeing how red Tony's face became. And Tony clears his throat in hope of containing himself somehow.

"Alrighty… How's the helmet going? Tony moves the subject away. He sees Loki short-circuiting for a long moment, before remembering what they are doing here and grabbing back the helmet.

"It won't let me fix it… whenever I try to do something to the source of the issue, I get striked," He answers.

"Have you tried plastic gloves?" Tony asks, not even looking up from the hand he's oiling.

"For the helmet?" Loki asks, his eyebrows furrowed at Tony.

"For your hands, you idiot!" Tony screams, his head snapping heavenwards. Why did he agree on this?

"Fine, fine… Norns, dauðlegir eru svo stuttir í skapi... —Norns, Mortals are so short tempered…" Loki mutters under his breath.

"You know JARVIS can translate from Old Norse to English, right?" Tony snaps.

Loki shrugs and leaps into the working table and walks across it with three big steps, jumping back down with grace and opening shelves to find the gloves.

"They won't fit," He yells at Tony.

"Whatcha mean they won't fit?" Tony yells back.

Loki jumps on the table again and ends right behind Tony.

"I mean, they won't fit. They're too small," He answers to Tony's ear. Tony has learned how much Loki loved climbing on furniture, so he just turns around instead of jumping around and cussing at the God.

"Come on… how big are your hands?" He asks. Loki grabs Tony's hand and places his palm against his own. Tony's fingers were beginning on Loki's second joints, his fingers long and thin. And Tony licks his lips, because he knows what big hands mean…

Stop being horny over deities, you idiot! It didn't end well with Jesus and it won't end well with this one too! The, usually silent, voice of reason reminds him.

"Maybe you can magic them into fitting…" He suggests. Loki nods and stretches the left glove with his right hand, a green light making it bigger as he slides his hand inside.

"Thank you, Stark…" He smiles and climbs back on the table, eyes pinned on the helmet as he's playing with the screwdriver. It's been two weeks since he came here, and he still uses only last names. But when Clint called him Odinson, Thor, Steve and the Hulk had to physically hold Loki from snapping the archer's neck. And no one dares to call him Laufeyson or even think about it.

"Hey," Tony snaps. Loki flinches at the sudden noise but composes himself right after. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya," Tony apologizes.

"It's fine… What do you want to ask?" Loki shrugs one shoulder, placing the helmet on his right and the screwdriver on his left.

"Why do you call everyone by their last name but don't want to be addressed as so?" He asks.

"I'm not anyone's friend, and first names feel too familiar for such a situation. And, I won't stay for a long time…" He answers, the livid glow in his eyes fading just so.

"And, your last name?"

"I don't have one…" He whispers, with what Tony recognises as shame in his voice. Tony frowns and walks closer, staying outside of Loki's personal space.

"But you're Thor's brother and he's an Odinson," He studied his words before speaking. The last thing he wants is to trigger Loki, even as an accident.

"On Asgard and Jötenheim, last names work differently. You choose the name of the parent who you are closest to and then add the -son, -dottir or -barn. But Odin and Laufey were not close at all, and Frigga could help but she chose to keep me at arm's reach. So, no last name…" Tony can see how Loki was trying hard not to show emotions, but he is so close to breaking.

"You know, with this logic, only Thor has a last name. Don't tell Steve, but Howard was a first class terrible father. Steve's dad abandoned him and his mother, after beating the poor woman. Clint's parents made him run away and go to the circus. Natasha was given her name in the Red Room, she doesn't know who her parents are. And Bruce's was violent too. The only people with decent parents are Thor and JARVIS." Tony should move the topic away, but he didn't. At least he tries to patch it up on the last bit.

"And Dum-E," Loki adds, with a barely visible smile. A fake one. Tony hears the robot's joints moving as he lifts his upper part.

"And Dum-E," Tony agrees with a smile, and the robot makes a few happy noises. Loki laughs.

"You know, he says he loves you," He turns to Tony.

"If that's so, he earned some nice oil," Tony grabs the oil and applies some to Dum-E's joint. It doesn't stop making those mechanic noises and when Tony is over, Loki's smiling at him from the table.

"He still says he loves me, right?" Tony asks. Loki makes a slight nod, not abandoning his small smile.

"And that you are the best dad," He adds. Tony laughs and pets Dum-E before heading back to the table. But he still won't get too close to Loki, he is very strict with his personal space.

Loki grabs back the helmet and starts poking it around with the tool, now ignoring Tony.

"So, you don't feel like talking, huh?" Tony asks.

"If you mean the topic you want to talk about, then no," Loki snaps, not raising his eyes. Tony nods, he knows better than invading Loki's personal space.

And Loki didn't open his mouth for the rest of the night. The next morning, he would pretend nothing happened, but Tony would see how something changed in him. How his eyes darkened and his face became colder.

~~~

The next night, Loki is even more grumpy. So, Tony avoids speaking, or making anything that has even the slightest chance to irritate him.

"You're scared of me…" Loki finally speaks, his voice soft like a whisper and his fingers playing with the black ring on his ring finger. Tony looks up from the metal glove he's making to stare at Loki.

"Should I be scared?" Tony asks, careful not to say the wrong words.

"You are too picky about what you do around me. Why not do that if not because you are scared?" He answers. And this is where Tony lets himself frown and talks without thinking.

"Maybe because I don't want to make you feel bad?" He lets his words come out without filters. And Loki raises his eyebrow at it.

"Well, you don't lie about it. But why are you so dedicated to this?" He narrows his eyes and crosses his hands, body leaning towards Tony.

And now, he can't answer. Why does he care so much? It's not that they're old friends like with Rhodey or ex-s but still friends like with Pepper. They're not even teammates. Loki said it himself, he will leave after the one month Steve gave him.

So, why does Tony care so much?

"Hmm, nice answer…" Loki snarls and looks away, playing again with the other hand of the suit.

"You're a cold son of a whore, you know that?" Tony spits, his eyes stabbing Loki. He now raises his glare again, but he looks more confused than before.

"I beg your pardon?" He blinks.

"I try to be decent towards you, okay? The reasons behind it don't matter. Could be fear, guilt, interest, it means jack. And you question me on how I dare be decent towards you and why and what I want from you! You know what, I have a question for you. Why can't you accept being treated as a normal person? Are you that messed up in the brain or you just love so much being alone and miserable?" Tony lets his thoughts come out as they are, not giving a care how much they will hurt Loki. But the moment he sees Loki's reaction, he regrets it.

The room gets cold enough for Tony to see his breathing. Loki leaves the tools and the metal hand beside him and locks his feet on a tight fatal position, his hands on his face and pulling some hair with enough strength to pull them out and his shoulders rising and falling too fast.

And Tony knows what this means… It means he messed up badly.

"Crap! Hey, buddy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean those things…" He sprints closer. Loki raises his hand towards him, a green glow erupting from it and sending Tony flying to the other side of the lab.

Loki mutters something to this in Old Norse, before jumping up and leaving, his feet shaking as he was trying to walk towards the exit. But he manages to vanish in the dark corridor anyways.

And this time, Tony definitely messed up the worst way possible.

~~~

For the next two weeks, Loki doesn't get out of his room. And it only makes the knot in Tony's stomach grow tighter. He asks Thor all the time how Loki is, if he eats, if he sleeps, if he needs something. It's a wonder Thor hasn't grown tired of the constant questioning. And the answer is always the same, "I don't know, he won't let me in,".

And if everyone on the tower has learned something about Loki, is that things are bad when he keeps Thor at arm's length.

Tony wants to go and check on Loki himself, but he bets his right hand that Loki will spit curses at him, and he has every right to do so. So, he has to settle down on annoying Thor and worrying with him.

"You know what? It's my fault," Tony admits to Thor the night before Loki leaves. And Thor furrowed his eyebrows.

"What do you mean?"

Tony explains everything that happened that night, and Thor smiles with sympathy and touches Tony's neck.

"You were right on your words, that's why Loki reacted like this. He doesn't want people to know too much about him… But he won't be mad at you." He answers.

"But, why do I care so much? We barely know each other…" Tony asks.

"Have you thought of love?" Thor suggest. Tony is about to smack Thor for saying something like this, but it makes sense.

"Do… you don't happen to know if he's queer, right?" Tony makes the big question.

"I know very few Æsir who are not your definition of queer, but Loki was never open about those things. You better ask him…" He shrugs.

Well, Thor has a point. But Tony can't exactly ask Loki what his sexuality is while he's like this. So, he better wait till it's time.

"Thank you, Point Break…" Tony pats Thor's back. And then, JARVIS yells at them that Steve wants everyone in the central room.

And there is everyone here, even Loki. Well, an emotionally drained and mentally exhausted Loki, but he's there.

"As you know, your month has passed…" Steve begins talking, his Captain Voice on. Loki nods and lowers his shoulders to appear smaller.

"I'll be on my way, then…" He mutters, voice low and breaking. Steve wants to smile, but Loki's reaction stops him.

"So, you don't want to be an Avenger?" He lets his Captain mask fall, eyeing Loki with worry. And every single one of the Avengers is now doing the same. Tony hadn't realised that this antisocial emo little God had become so popular.

Loki lets his lips make a smile so big Tony bets it hurts like hell.

"You mean I can stay?" He asks, his voice now louder and livid.

"Can't see a reason to kick you out," Steve smiles too.

And Loki drags him to a hug tight enough to break the poor soldier in half, smiling like a sunbeam and rumbling thank you again and again.

"Alright, can you let me breathe?" Steve wheezes. Loki makes a small oh sound and lets go of the hug.

"Sorry, Steve," He hums, not breaking eye contact.

"Steve? Where's the "Rogers"?" Clint asks, his eyebrows raised and his hands signing along even though he wears his hearing aids.

"Well, since I'm about to stay, there's no point in calling you with your last names, is there?" Loki shrugs.

"Alright, you know what we need? A party. Who's with me?" Tony claps his hands and yells, glad to see everyone agreeing.

~~~

Apparently, being an alien God makes you hold your liquor a lot. Tony knew about Steve, but he didn't expect those two to have this stamina as well.

But Thor has started losing his balance and yelling at everyone how much he loves them in Old Norse and Loki's accent and stutter are showing, but he is just sitting on the bar and watching over the chaos.

This is your chance. He's happy and drunk enough, what could possibly go wrong? Tony thinks and stumbles towards Loki before he sits on a tall stool.

"So, are you having fun?" He asks, smiling at Loki and sipping on his scotch. It's fine, he's done this countless times before and he can do it now.

"It's quite nice, yes…" Loki hums, now turning to face Tony.

"And, em… Sorry about the other night… It was too much, should have been midler on ya," Tony mumbles, trying not to lower his eyes and break eye contact. Loki makes a soft nod.

"It's fine, you don't have to apologize… And you were quite right about some things…" He gives Tony a small smile as he talks, making him relax his shoulders a bit a mouth a thank you.

"And I wanna tell you something… I also talked to Thor about it… And I think… No, I'm pretty sure I have a crush on you. And, that's why the care and stuff…" Tony rumbles, his eyes big as he searches for reaction. But Loki stays untouched.

"I am… flattered… But I'm also asexual," He breathes out, staring back at Tony for a reaction.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't want to make it uncomfortable…" Tony rushes to apologize. Couldn't he see the black wedding ring? It's a symbol of asexuality!

"You know, things can work out platonically. I mean, you do start to grow on me…" Loki responds, smiling just a bit.

"Really? I mean, you don't mind?" Tony grins at the response, his eyes big at the God. Loki shrugs.

"Yeah, If you are okay with not getting laid with me…"

"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" Tony gives Loki an ear to ear smile and grabs his right hand, kissing gently the black ring.

Loki's cheeks and ears get bright red and he bites his lower lip. Tony is quick to let go of his hand.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable…" He chunters, now lowering his glare and playing with his glass.

"It was… nice…" Loki whispers, most likely to himself. But Tony still snaps his head up.

"Seriously?"

"Yes… And…" The red blush appears back in his cheeks as he fidgets with his sleeves. "It was the first time someone kissed me…"

"No way!" Tony exhales.

"I know, embarrassing…" Loki bites his lip again, breaking eye contact.

"I'm actually honoured. Not a lot of humans had the chance to steal the first kiss of a God, you know," Tony grins, hoping the joke is not that bad.

Loki reacts with a snorting sound and a light punch on the ribs, that sends Tony straight to the floor and makes the glass scatter in pieces.

"Oh, dear, are you alright?!" Loki squirts at Tony.

"I think I need a safeword…" Tony grunts.

He is sure that Loki will grimace on the joke, but instead, he giggles like a highschool girl.

"Most definitely yeah," He sighs, handing over an identical glass with the one they broke.

From the back of the room, no one sees Thor laughing as Steve sighs at the view of Loki and Tony and handing over the twenty dollars of the bet.

#Marvel fanfic #one shot #tony/loki #ace!Loki #fluff #marvel fluff #marvellousaces #maholidaybingo2020 #marvel fandom