d_rook
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Summary
Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi transferred to Precinct 41 eight weeks ago, at Harry’s request, and has been quietly, devastatingly in love with his new partner since approximately 0309 on the night after the case in Martinaise.
Lieutenant-Double-Yefreitor Harrier Du Bois is sober(-ish), trying very hard, and has not, on the evidence, noticed.
The parliament in his head has noticed. The parliament is going to lose its mind about it for as long as it takes.
Two ruined middle-aged men quietly building something safe in the rubble of post-canon Revachol.
POV alternates between Harry’s skill-crowded chaos and Kim’s clinical restraint.(A/N: Started as a few lighthearted smut drabbles, but Conceptualization and Inland-Empire ran away with the budget. It is now an accidental slow-burn longfic. Logic failed the check to keep it brief. Gets filthier as it goes.)
Series
- Part 1 of Red Checks and Orange Bombers
Bookmarked by d_rook
20 Jul 2026
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Kim Kitsuragi wears an old leather racing jacket to Disco Night.
Unfortunately, half of Martinaise notices.
More unfortunately, Harry Du Bois notices too.
Kim is prepared to manage a crowd.
He is considerably less prepared to manage a jealous detective.
Series
- Part 3 of Red Checks and Orange Bombers
Bookmarked by d_rook
11 Jul 2026
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Stranded overnight at a motor-inn a long way from Revachol, unable to sleep, Harry Du Bois plays a joke on a sleeping lieutenant with a pair of regulation cuffs.
Harry thinks this is going to be funny. All Kim has to do is tell him to stop.
He doesn’t.
You do the thing you do when you cannot believe an instrument reading. You check it again. Slow. Deliberate, this time — no tickle, no bit, no schoolyard in it — the flat of your palm dragging back down over the warm skin below the navel.
Kim moans harder.
PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Medium: Success] — That one came from the exact same place the last one did. You can stop calling it a squeak now, Harry. You can stop calling it a lot of things.
Series
- Part 4 of Red Checks and Orange Bombers
Bookmarked by d_rook
11 Jul 2026
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Summary
Your name is Sans Serif. Your identification card says so. Your work permit says so. Your residential assignment says so. Your brother’s dependency papers says so. The Ministry says so, and so it is true.
But when you and your brother are rudely pulled into a peaceful alternate universe at the worst possible moment, the entire foundation of your identity is put into question. You are one of several. One of possibly more. You don't trust any of this, especially not that human, yet you can't help wondering... should you even try to go home in the first place?
Or
An old fic I started in 2018 and decided, hey, why not revisit it in the good old '26? Machine troupe but you are a Sans, and make it an Anti-Harem.
...Oh, and did I mention totalitarianism?Bookmarked by d_rook
29 Jun 2026
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"Are you another teacher here?"
"Uh, yeah! I teach science for 6th and 8th grade. What about you?"
"Amaze, amaze. I teach in technology wing. Robotics."
"You new?"
"Yes. Just traveled here few days ago. Applied for job. Got job."
"Cool."
A strange new teacher is hired at Grover Cleveland Middle, and so far, Mr. Grace has heard more gossip than he's heard during his entire 7 years of teaching. He's friendly, but awkward and offputting to the point where people are starting to think he's not human.
An alternate universe where most of the cast are members of the school staff, and Rocky is the weird new teacher who most definitely isn't pretending to be a human to hide from the government officials at NASA trying to study him.
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- English
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Bookmarked by d_rook
24 Jun 2026