#Call center management strategies

[smsgatewayindia]

Crisis Communication: Using SMS and Voice Effectively During Outages

Learn how to use SMS and voice calls for effective crisis communication during outages. Discover actionable strategies to ensure timely updates, build trust, and maintain seamless operations.

[callcenterservicesc2c]

Call Center Services Dubai

How to Maximize ROI with Call Center Services Dubai?

Call center services in Dubai help businesses reach out to their customers and maximize returns on investment (ROI). Customer Support Solutions Dubai provides exceptional customer service to enhance on your ROI.

We plan effective call center strategies to enable you to focus on your core tasks. Our customer experience management provides your businesses the flexibility and boost you need for growth. By offering superior service, you will achieve higher customer satisfaction and increased returns on your investment.

Customer Support Solutions Dubai

Call2Customers.ae has provided services to numerous enterprises that depend on excellent customer service to improve the quality of their services. We cater global clientele from all over the world for who desire to start or expand their businesses in Dubai.

Key Features of Contact Support in Dubai:

Multilingual Support: We have pool of talented agents who are capable of handling clients speaking different languages. Our goal is to satisfy each caller from a wide range of demographics, meeting the needs of Dubai's diversified population.

24/7 Availability: We offer round-the-clock assistance on multiple communication channels like phone, email, live chat, and social media. This demonstrates our dedication to meeting both international market expectations and consumer needs.

Advanced Technology: We know that investing in call center technology can improve performance metrics. So, we leveraging cutting-edge technology, from AI-powered chat bots to CRM, which ensures efficient handling of caller queries and enhances overall productivity.

Effective Call Center Strategies

By implementing effective call center strategies, you get the chance to employ various innovative approaches that can keep you stay ahead in the competitive landscape.

Strategies for Success:

Training and Development: We provide training programs to ensure that our call center agents are well-versed in the newest methods of providing customer support as well as product knowledge. Performance Metrics: We utilize key performance indicators (KPIs) that help in monitoring and enhancing agent performance.

Customer Feedback: We regularly gather and analyze caller feedback in improving services and quickly resolve any problems.

Understanding Call Center Services for Dubai

Call2customers.aeoffers a wide range of Call center services for Dubai companies and customers designed to enhance their experience and streamline operations. Our experts take care of customer support to handling inquiries and managing feedback, these services are pivotal for businesses aiming to improve efficiency and consumer satisfaction.

Effective Strategies to Maximize ROI

Outsourcing Call Centers: One of the most economical methods to enhance ROI is by outsourcing call center services. Call2Customers.ae is well known service provider that offer specialized services at affordable costs. You can focus on core activities and save costs on operational costs by hiring us.

Improving Customer Experience: Making users happy directly improves profits. By implementing strategies to enhance their experience, you can keep more customers and get positive referrals. Ensuring every interaction with your business is smooth and pleasant is crucial.

Customer Satisfaction Boosts Profits: When consumers are happy, your profits go up. By applying user experience management strategies, you can retain more customers and encourage positive word-of-mouth. The key is to ensure that every interaction is seamless and enjoyable.

Analyzing Performance Metrics: Regularly checking call center performance metrics helps find areas that need improvement. Metrics like average handling time, first call resolution, and consumer satisfaction scores provide useful information for making operations better.

Call center services maximize businesses ROI

Partner with Call2Customers.ae to save on operational costs and focus on your core business activities. We believe on advanced call center technologies to streamline operations and improve efficiency. You can enhance consumers satisfaction through effective user experience management, leading to higher retention rates and positive word-of-mouth referrals. By implementing these strategies, we help businesses achieve greater efficiency, improved consumer satisfaction, and ultimately, higher ROI.

[kashverse]

uncle gogo = gojo, for those confused

career day at the sukuna household is not for the weak.

at the tender age of five, your daughter is no longer just a visitor at her father’s company. no. today, she is there for work. she arrives at the office in her best outfit—tiny blazer, tiny briefcase, tiny attitude—ready to take on the corporate world. sukuna, ever the supportive father, plays along.

"alright, kid," he says as they step into his office, adjusting the little lanyard around her neck that says junior executive (custom-made, obviously). "first day on the job. you ready?"

"mm-hmm." she nods seriously, clutching her briefcase like it holds state secrets. "good," sukuna smirks, ruffling her hair. "first order of business—don’t let the idiots boss you around."

"idiots like uncle gogo?" she asks.

"especially uncle gogo."

things go smoothly at first. your daughter sits in sukuna’s big chair, scribbling on documents (coloring books), occasionally nodding as if she understands corporate jargon. employees pop in to say hello, bringing little gifts—stickers, snacks, an absurdly large teddy bear that now sits beside her like an honorary executive.

but then, he arrives. a mid-level manager with a smile just a little too fake, eyes that linger just a little too long. your daughter, ever perceptive, immediately stiffens. the man kneels beside her chair, trying to look friendly. "and who is this little boss?" he asks, voice dripping with condescension. your daughter stares him down, face blank.

"…weird man," she declares.

the entire office goes silent. sukuna, who had been checking emails, slowly looks up.

"what?"

his daughter turns to him, completely unbothered.

"i don’t like weird man."

the manager laughs awkwardly. "kids, huh? always saying the darndest things." sukuna barely spares him a glance. "yeah. they do."

your daughter, meanwhile, has already moved on, humming as she arranges her teddy bear like it’s the new CFO. sukuna doesn’t think much of it at first. kids have weird instincts. but a few hours later—

"boss," one of his executives says, looking grim. "we have a problem." sukuna doesn’t look up from his laptop. "when don’t we?"

"it’s about him."

the name that follows is the same weird man his daughter had called out earlier. sukuna finally looks up.

"what about him?"

"he’s been embezzling funds. we just caught the discrepancies in the accounts—tens of thousands missing. and, uh..." the executive hesitates. "he’s also been at the center of multiple employee harassment complaints. HR covered it up, but—"

CRACK.

everyone in the office flinches. sukuna has broken his pen in half.

by the end of the day, weird man is ex-employee weird man. security drags him out kicking and screaming, and the company lawyers are already preparing a case. sukuna, meanwhile, sits back in his chair, arms crossed as he watches his daughter—his psychic daughter—methodically stacking staplers like it’s part of an intricate business strategy.

"so," he says, tapping his fingers against the desk. "you got anything else for me, little oracle?"

she looks up at him, blinking.

"uncle gogo steals candy from your office."

sukuna sighs. "of course he does."

[pucksandpower]

Moments of Glory

Oscar Piastri x Brown!Reader

Summary: notoriously calm and collected Oscar meets his match in the outgoing and extroverted daughter of his boss

Note: this is not the maiden win any of us wanted for Oscar but that doesn’t make it any less deserved — McLaren’s ability to jumble strategy should not take away from his amazing drive

The McLaren Technology Centre hums with energy as Oscar steps through the sliding glass doors, his eyes wide with wonder. It’s his first visit since signing with the team, and the gravity of the moment isn’t lost on him. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

As he walks further into the lobby, a burst of laughter catches his attention. Oscar turns to see a group of people gathered near the reception desk, centered around a vivacious young woman with a contagious smile. Your presence seems to light up the entire room.

“And then I told him, ‘Dad, if you don’t make some cuter merch, I’m going to have to support a different team!’” You exclaim, causing another round of laughter from the group.

Oscar finds himself drawn towards the commotion, his feet moving of their own accord. As he approaches, you notice him and your eyes lock. For a moment, the world seems to stand still.

“Well, hello there, stranger!” You call out, breaking the spell. “You must be our new golden boy. I’m Y/N Brown, resident troublemaker and daughter of the big boss.”

Oscar feels his cheeks flush as he stammers, “H-Hi, I’m Oscar. Oscar Piastri.”

You grin, stepping closer. “I know who you are, silly. I’ve been watching your career for years. Welcome to the family!”

Before Oscar can respond, you’ve wrapped him in a warm hug. He stiffens for a moment, unused to such casual physical contact, but then relaxes into the embrace.

As you pull away, you wink at him. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

Oscar’s eyes widen, and he lets out a nervous laugh. “I, uh ... I don’t ...”

You laugh, patting his shoulder. “Relax, I’m just teasing. Come on, let me show you around. I bet I know this place better than any of the official tour guides.”

As you lead Oscar through the facility, he finds himself captivated by your energy and enthusiasm. You point out various areas of interest, peppering your tour with amusing anecdotes and insider information.

“And this,” you say, gesturing dramatically to a seemingly ordinary hallway, “is where Lando once tried to skateboard down the stairs. Spoiler alert: it didn’t end well.”

Oscar chuckles, finding himself more at ease. “I can’t imagine that went over well with management.”

You lean in conspiratorially. “Oh, Dad was furious. But between you and me, I think he was more upset that Lando didn’t invite him to join in.”

As you continue the tour, Oscar finds himself opening up more. “So, how long have you been involved with McLaren?” He asks.

You grin, twirling around to face him as you walk backward. “Oh, pretty much since Dad got hired to run it back in 2016. But I’ve been working here officially for about two years now, in PR and social media.”

Oscar nods, impressed. “That must be exciting, being so close to the action.”

“It has its moments,” you agree. “But enough about me. Tell me, Oscar Piastri, what makes you tick? What drives you to risk life and limb hurtling around tracks at breakneck speeds?”

Oscar pauses, considering his words carefully. “I guess ... it’s the thrill of pushing myself to the limit. The constant challenge of improving, of finding that extra tenth of a second. And the teamwork aspect, knowing that every person plays a crucial role in our success.”

You smile softly, a hint of admiration in your eyes. “That’s beautiful, Oscar. I can see why Dad was so keen on signing you.”

As you reach the simulator room, Oscar’s eyes light up with excitement. You can’t help but chuckle at his reaction.

“Want to give it a go?” You ask, gesturing towards the state-of-the-art equipment.

Oscar nods eagerly. “Can I? I mean, I don’t want to overstep ...”

You wave off his concerns. “Please, you’re part of the team now. Besides, I want to see what you can do.”

As Oscar settles into the simulator, you lean against the doorframe, watching him with interest. He takes a deep breath, centering himself before starting the virtual lap.

You observe silently, impressed by his focus and skill. As he completes the lap, you let out a low whistle. “Not bad, Piastri. Not bad at all.”

Oscar grins, a hint of pride in his expression. “Thanks. It feels good to get a feel for the car, even if it’s just a simulation.”

You step closer, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “Want to make it interesting? I bet I can beat your time.”

Oscar raises an eyebrow, a hint of competitiveness creeping into his voice. “Oh really? You’re on.”

For the next hour, you and Oscar take turns in the simulator, trading friendly jabs and encouragement. To Oscar’s surprise, you prove to be a formidable opponent, matching him lap for lap.

As you finish your final run, you jump up with a whoop of victory. “Ha! Beat you by two-tenths!”

Oscar shakes his head, laughing. “I can’t believe it. Where did you learn to drive like that?”

You shrug, a hint of vulnerability showing through your confident exterior. “Growing up around racing, I guess. But I never had the nerve to pursue it professionally. Too much pressure.”

Oscar nods understandingly. “I can’t blame you. It’s not an easy path.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, broken only by the hum of the equipment. Oscar finds himself studying your face, noticing the way your eyes crinkle when you smile and how animated you become when talking about something you love.

You catch him staring and smirk. “See something you like, Piastri?”

Oscar blushes furiously, stammering, “I, uh ... I was just ... you’re really ...”

You laugh, but there’s a softness to it. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

Oscar takes a deep breath, gathering his courage. “Listen, Y/N ... I know we just met, but I was wondering if maybe ... I mean, if you’re not busy ... would you like to ...”

Before he can finish, an alarm on your phone goes off. You check it and grimace. “Shoot, I’ve got a meeting in five minutes. Rain check on whatever you were about to say?”

Oscar nods, trying to hide his disappointment. “Yeah, of course. No problem.”

You start to leave but pause at the doorway. Turning back, you say, “Hey, Oscar? For what it’s worth, I hope you were about to ask me out. Because I’d say yes.”

With a wink and a wave, you’re gone, leaving Oscar standing in the simulator room, a mix of excitement and nerves swirling in his stomach. He takes a deep breath, a smile spreading across his face as he realizes that his journey with McLaren might be even more exciting than he initially thought.

***

The hot Qatar air shimmers around Oscar as he stands before the camera, sweat glistening on his brow. His race suit clings to his body, still damp from the grueling sprint race he’s just won. The interviewer leans in with her microphone.

“Oscar, what an incredible performance today! How does it feel to secure your first sprint victory in Formula 1?”

Oscar’s eyes shine with a mix of exhaustion and elation. “It’s ... it’s honestly surreal,” he says, his voice slightly breathless. “The team did an amazing job with the car, and everything just clicked out there. I can’t quite believe it yet.”

The interviewer nods encouragingly. “You showed remarkable pace throughout the race. Was there any point where you felt particularly challenged?”

Oscar opens his mouth to respond, but before he can say a word, a blur of motion catches his peripheral vision. Suddenly, you crash into him at full speed, nearly knocking both of you off balance.

“You did it! You actually did it!” You squeal, throwing your arms around Oscar’s neck and peppering his sweaty face with kisses.

Oscar’s eyes widen in shock, his cheeks flushing a deep red that has nothing to do with the desert heat. “Y/N! What are you-”

But you’re not listening. You’re too busy showering him with affection, right there in front of the rolling cameras and the stunned interviewer. “I’m so proud of you, you beautiful, talented man!” You exclaim between kisses.

The interviewer clears her throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “I ... um, it seems we have an unexpected guest. Miss, could you perhaps-”

You turn to face the camera, your arm still draped around Oscar’s shoulders. “Oh, don’t mind me! I’m just here to celebrate with the star of the show.” You plant another kiss on Oscar’s cheek for emphasis.

Oscar, for his part, looks like he’s torn between embarrassment and delight. He awkwardly pats your back, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism. “I’m sorry about this,” he says to the interviewer. “This is Y/N, she’s ... well, she’s ...”

“I’m his girlfriend,” you announce proudly, beaming at the camera. “And the daughter of the CEO, but that’s not important right now. What’s important is that this guy” — you ruffle Oscar’s hair — “just drove the race of his life!”

The interviewer, recovering from her initial shock, decides to roll with the unexpected turn of events. “Well, Y/N, since you’re here, what did you think of Oscar’s performance today?”

You launch into an enthusiastic analysis, gesticulating wildly. “It was absolutely brilliant! The way he managed those tires in the closing laps, fending off Verstappen ... I was on the edge of my seat the whole time!”

Oscar watches you with a mixture of amusement and affection. When you pause for breath, he gently interjects, “I think you might be a bit biased, love.”

You turn to him, eyes sparkling. “Biased? Me? Never! I’ll have you know I’m a highly objective observer of the sport.”

The interviewer, sensing an opportunity for a more personal angle, asks, “Oscar, how does it feel to have such passionate support from your girlfriend?”

Oscar’s expression softens as he looks at you. “It’s ... it’s incredible, honestly. Y/N’s been my biggest cheerleader since day one. Even on the tough days, she always believes in me.”

You lean your head on his shoulder, momentarily subdued by the sincerity in his voice. “That’s because I know how amazing you are, even when you don’t see it yourself.”

The interviewer smiles, clearly charmed by the display. “It’s wonderful to see such support. Y/N, did you have any doubts during the race?”

You straighten up, your energy returning full force. “Doubts? About Oscar? Never! Although,” you add with a mischievous grin, “I did consider commandeering a golf cart and driving onto the track myself when Verstappen started closing that gap in the final laps.”

Oscar chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m glad you restrained yourself. I don’t think that would’ve gone over well with the stewards.”

“Oh please,” you scoff playfully. “I would’ve told them I was delivering a vital message about tire strategy. They would’ve believed me.”

The interviewer laughs along with you. “I have to say, this is one of the most entertaining post-race interviews I’ve ever conducted. Oscar, how do you keep up with such a vibrant personality?”

Oscar grins, his earlier embarrassment fading. “Honestly, I’m still trying to figure that out. Y/N keeps me on my toes, that’s for sure. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You beam at him, then stage-whisper to the interviewer, “He loves it, really. I add much-needed excitement to his life.”

“As if driving a Formula 1 car at over 300 kilometers per hour isn’t exciting enough,” Oscar retorts good-naturedly.

You wave a dismissive hand. “Details, details. Now, are we done here? Because I have plans for celebrating this victory, and they involve a lot less talking and a lot more-”

Oscar quickly cuts you off, his cheeks reddening again. “And on that note, I think we should wrap this up. Thank you for the interview,” he says to the journalist, who’s trying hard to stifle her laughter.

As Oscar begins to lead you away, the interviewer calls out one last question. “Oscar, any final words for your fans watching at home?”

Oscar pauses, considering for a moment. “Just ... thank you for all the support. It means the world to me. And to the team, of course. We couldn’t do this without you all.”

You can’t resist adding your own message. “And remember, kids: if you work hard and believe in yourself, one day you too could have an incredibly attractive partner tackling you with kisses on live television!”

With that, you pull Oscar away from the cameras, both of you laughing as you disappear into the paddock.

Once you’re out of sight of the media, Oscar turns to you, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. “I can’t believe you did that,” he says, shaking his head.

You grin unrepentantly. “Oh come on, it was fun! And admit it, you loved it.”

Oscar tries to maintain a stern face, but his lips twitch upwards. “It was certainly ... unexpected.”

“Unexpected is my middle name,” you declare proudly.

“I thought your middle name was Trouble,” Oscar quips.

You gasp in mock offense. “Oscar Piastri, are you sassing me? I’ll have you know that Trouble is my first name. Y/N is just a cover.”

Oscar laughs, pulling you close despite the sweat still clinging to his race suit. “Well, Trouble, what do you say we get out of here and start that celebration you were talking about?”

Your eyes light up. “Now you’re talking! But first ...” You lean in, your voice dropping to a whisper. “I believe I was interrupted earlier when I was showering the race winner with well-deserved affection.”

Oscar’s breath catches as you close the distance between you, your lips meeting in a kiss that’s far more heated than the ones shared on camera. When you finally pull apart, you’re both a little breathless.

“Wow,” Oscar murmurs. “If that’s how you react to a sprint win, I can’t wait to see what happens when I win a Grand Prix.”

You wink at him. “Keep driving like that, and you’ll find out soon enough. Now come on, hero. Let’s go find somewhere more private before my dad shows up and ruins all our fun.”

As if on cue, Zak’s voice echoes down the paddock. “Oscar! There you are! Hell of a drive out there, kid!”

You groan dramatically. “Speak of the devil. Quick, hide me in your helmet!”

Oscar chuckles, keeping an arm around your waist as Zak approaches. “I don’t think you’d fit, babe. Besides, I’m pretty sure he already knows you’re here. The whole world probably knows after that interview.”

You shrug, unabashed. “What can I say? When I’m proud of my man, I want everyone to know it.”

Zak reaches you, clapping Oscar on the shoulder. “That was some fantastic racing out there, Oscar. You should be proud.”

Oscar nods, a shy smile on his face. “Thank you. The car felt great, and the team’s strategy was spot on.”

You roll your eyes affectionately. “Always so modest. Dad, tell him how amazing he was!”

Zak laughs. “I think you’ve done enough of that for all of us, sweetheart. I saw that interview, by the way. Quite a show you two put on.”

You bat your eyelashes innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was merely congratulating our star driver on his well-deserved victory.”

“Uh-huh,” Zak says, clearly not buying it. “Well, try to keep the congratulations a bit more PG in the future, alright? We do have sponsors to think about.”

Oscar looks mortified, but you just grin. “No promises. But I’ll try to restrain myself to just one tackle per race weekend.”

Zak shakes his head, a mixture of exasperation and fondness on his face. “What am I going to do with you two? Oscar, I hope you know what you’ve signed up for with this one.”

Oscar glances at you, his expression softening. “I think I have a pretty good idea. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

You feel your heart swell at his words. “Aww, babe. That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said. Well, second sweetest. The sweetest was when you told me my driving in the simulator was ‘not bad.’”

Oscar groans. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Nope!” you say cheerfully. “I plan to remind you of it at least once a week for the rest of our lives.”

Zak watches your banter with amusement. “Alright, you two. Oscar, the team wants to debrief before you head out. Y/N, try not to cause any international incidents while I’m gone, okay?”

You salute dramatically. “Yes, sir, Team Principal, sir! I shall endeavor to be on my very best behavior.”

As Zak walks away, shaking his head and muttering something that sounds suspiciously like “God help us all,” you turn back to Oscar.

“So, hotshot,” you say, running a finger down his chest. “How long do you think this debrief will take? Because I have some very important plans that involve you, me, and a bottle of champagne I may or may not have ‘borrowed’ from the hospitality area.”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. “Borrowed, huh? You know, as a representative of the team, I should probably discourage such behavior.”

You lean in close, your lips barely brushing his ear. “And as my boyfriend, what do you think?”

Oscar’s arms tighten around you. “I think,” he murmurs, “that I’m the luckiest guy in the world. And that I’ll try to make this the quickest debrief in F1 history.”

You pull back with a triumphant grin. “That’s what I like to hear. Now go, be brilliant, and hurry back to me. I’ll be waiting.”

As Oscar jogs off towards the team garage, you watch him go with a soft smile. Your eyes linger on the PIASTRI emblazoned across his back, and you feel a surge of pride and affection.

“That’s my guy,” you murmur to yourself. “My brilliant, amazing, race-winning guy.”

And as you head off to prepare for your celebration, you can’t help but think that while Oscar might have won the sprint race today, you’re the one who truly hit the jackpot.

***

The Hungaroring erupts in cheers as Oscar crosses the finish line, securing his maiden Grand Prix victory. The McLaren garage explodes with jubilation, team members hugging each other and pumping their fists in the air.

As Oscar completes his cool-down lap, his voice crackles over the team radio, breathless with excitement. “We did it! We actually did it! Thank you, thank you to everyone. I can’t believe it!”

His race engineer responds, emotion evident in his voice. “Fantastic job, Oscar. You drove brilliantly. Enjoy this moment, mate. You’ve earned it.”

Meanwhile, in the paddock, you’re practically vibrating with excitement. You’ve been pacing back and forth, unable to contain your energy as you watched the final laps unfold on the screens. As soon as Oscar crosses the line, you sprint towards parc fermé, determined to be there when he gets out of the car.

You weave through the crowd, your McLaren bomber jacket with Oscar’s number emblazoned across the back drawing curious glances. As you reach the barriers, you see Oscar’s car pull up, the Australian already unclipping his helmet.

“Oscar!” You shout, waving frantically. “Over here!”

Oscar’s eyes scan the crowd, lighting up when he spots you. He clambers out of the car, his legs a bit shaky from the adrenaline and physical exertion. As he makes his way towards you, his gaze locks onto the jacket you’re wearing, and his steps falter.

You notice his reaction and grin mischievously, doing a little twirl to show off the jacket. “Like what you see, champ?”

Oscar’s eyes are wide, his mouth slightly agape. “That’s ... wow. Is that my number?”

You nod, beaming. “Sure is. Thought I’d support my favorite driver in style. Although,” you add with a wink, “I have to say, it will look much better on the ground next to your bed.”

Oscar’s face flushes red, and he glances around nervously. “Y/N! We’re in public!”

You laugh, reaching out to ruffle his sweat-damp hair. “Oh, relax. Everyone’s too busy celebrating your win to pay attention to us. Speaking of which ...” You grab the front of his race suit and pull him close, planting a passionate kiss on his lips.

When you finally break apart, Oscar looks dazed but happy. “I could get used to that kind of celebration,” he murmurs.

“Well, keep winning races like that, and you’ll have plenty more where that came from,” you tease. “Now go, do your podium thing. I’ll be waiting to continue this ... discussion ... later.”

As Oscar heads off for the podium ceremony, you turn to make your way back to the paddock. That’s when you spot Lando chatting with some engineers. Your eyes narrow as you remember how a McLaren strategy mistake had allowed Lando to undercut Oscar, nearly costing him the win. Even though it wasn’t really Lando’s fault, you can’t help feeling annoyed at him.

You’re about to march over and give Lando a piece of your mind when you spot something that makes you pause — Fernando Alonso’s unattended scooter, parked just a few feet away. A mischievous grin spreads across your face as an idea forms.

Glancing around to make sure no one’s watching, you casually stroll over to the scooter and hop on. You rev the engine, drawing Lando’s attention.

“Hey, Y/N!” Lando calls out, waving. “Congrats on Oscar’s win! Some race, huh?”

You smile sweetly, maneuvering the scooter towards him. “Oh, it sure was, Lando. Especially that bit where you refused to give the lead back to Oscar until the last minute. That was ... interesting.”

Lando’s smile falters slightly. “Come on. You know it wasn’t my fault. The team made the strategy call.”

“Oh, I know,” you say, inching the scooter closer. “I just thought I’d give you a little reminder about team spirit and timeliness.”

Before Lando can react, you accelerate the scooter, aiming straight for his foot. There’s a yelp of pain as the wheel rolls over Lando’s toes, followed by a string of colorful expletives.

“Oops!” You exclaim with faux innocence. “So sorry, Lando. These things are just so hard to control, you know?”

Lando hops on one foot, glaring at you. “What the hell? That bloody hurt!”

You shrug, still perched on the scooter. “Funny, that’s probably how Oscar felt when you wouldn’t let him by. Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

As Lando opens his mouth to retort, a stern voice cuts through the air. “Y/N Brown! What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

You wince, recognizing your father’s voice. Zak strides towards you, his expression a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

“Hi, Dad,” you say sheepishly. “I was just ... congratulating Lando on his race?”

Zak pinches the bridge of his nose. “By running over his foot with Alonso’s scooter? Jesus, Y/N. I can’t take you anywhere, can I?”

You hop off the scooter, trying your best to look contrite. “In my defense, it was a very gentle running over. Barely a love tap, really.”

Lando snorts, still rubbing his foot. “Love tap my arse. I think you broke my toe!”

Zak sighs heavily. “Lando, go get that checked out by the medics. Y/N, you’re coming with me. We need to have a serious talk about appropriate behavior in the paddock.”

As your father leads you away, you can’t help but call back over your shoulder, “Hey Lando! Next time, maybe think about giving the position back sooner, yeah?”

Zak groans. “Y/N, please. You know Lando was put in a tough spot. You’re not helping your case here.”

You follow your father to a quiet corner of the McLaren garage, trying to suppress your grin. Despite the impending lecture, you can’t bring yourself to regret your actions. Nobody messes with your Oscar and gets away with it.

Zak turns to face you, his expression serious. “Y/N, I know you’re excited about Oscar’s win, and believe me, I am too. But you can’t go around assaulting our drivers, even if it’s just with a scooter.”

You nod, attempting to look suitably chastised. “I know. I got carried away. It won’t happen again.”

Zak raises an eyebrow. “Why do I have a hard time believing that?”

Before you can respond, there’s a commotion at the garage entrance. Oscar bursts in, his face flushed with excitement.

“Y/N!” He calls out, spotting you. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

You turn to him, your face lighting up. “Oscar! Congrats, babe! I know I already said it, but you were amazing out there!”

Oscar sweeps you up in a hug, spinning you around. As he sets you down, his eyes once again lock onto your jacket. “God, you look incredible in that,” he murmurs, his voice low.

You smirk, running a hand down his chest. “Oh yeah? Maybe I should wear it more often then.”

Zak clears his throat loudly, reminding you both of his presence. “While I’m thrilled about the win, could you two maybe tone down the PDA a notch? We are still in a professional environment.”

Oscar steps back, looking sheepish. “Sorry. I got a bit carried away.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Oh, come on, Dad. Let the man celebrate! It’s his first win, after all.”

Zak sighs, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face. “Fine, fine. But try to keep it family-friendly, alright? And Y/N, we’re not done talking about the scooter incident.”

Oscar looks between you and your father, confusion evident on his face. “Scooter incident?”

You wave a dismissive hand. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little misunderstanding with Lando. Nothing to worry about.”

Oscar’s brow furrows. “What kind of misunderstanding involves a scooter?”

Before you can answer, Lando limps into the garage, his foot wrapped in a bandage. “The kind where your girlfriend tries to maim me, apparently,” he grumbles.

Oscar’s eyes widen. “Y/N, you didn’t ...”

You shrug, trying to look innocent. “It was an accident! Besides, he had it coming after that stunt he pulled during the race.”

Oscar runs a hand through his hair, looking exasperated but also slightly amused. “Y/N, you can’t just go around running people over because you’re unhappy with their racing.”

“Watch me,” you mutter under your breath.

Zak throws his hands up in defeat. “I give up. Oscar, congratulations again on the win. Y/N, try not to cause any more chaos for at least the next hour, okay? I need to go do damage control with the press.”

As your father walks away, Oscar turns to you, his expression a mix of fondness and exasperation. “What am I going to do with you?”

You grin, stepping closer to him. “I have a few ideas. Most of them involve you, me, and licking champagne off each other’s skin.”

Oscar’s breath hitches, his eyes darkening. “Y/N,” he warns, but there’s no real heat in his voice.

You lean in, your lips brushing his ear. “What do you say we get out of here, champ? I think it’s time for your real celebration.”

Oscar doesn’t need to be told twice. He grabs your hand, leading you towards the exit. As you pass Lando, you call out, “No hard feelings, right, Lando? Maybe next time you’ll think twice before playing dirty on track.”

Lando rolls his eyes but can’t help cracking a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Just keep her on a leash, will you, Oscar?”

Oscar chuckles. “I don’t think anyone could keep Y/N on a leash if they tried.”

As you leave the garage, the sounds of celebration still echoing through the paddock, you can’t help but feel on top of the world. Oscar’s first win, your successful (if slightly unorthodox) defense of his honor, and the promise of a private celebration to come — it’s been a perfect day.

You squeeze Oscar’s hand, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “So, hero, ready to show me just how much you like this jacket?”

Oscar grins, pulling you closer. “More than ready. But maybe we should wait until we’re somewhere more private. I don’t fancy giving the entire paddock a show.”

You laugh, the sound bright and carefree. “Spoilsport. But fine, I suppose I can be patient. For now.”

As you walk hand in hand towards the team motorhome, you can’t help but think that while Oscar may have won the race today, you’re both winners in the game of love. And that’s the best victory of all.

[matrix-fairy]

Divine Talent

In the Matrix Destiny chart, I will be sharing a thread about the talent arcana energies, which is the position you most frequently ask about. The spot marked with X on the map is what we call divine talent, which represents the talents your soul is inherently born with in this life.

1 - You have many ideas and can generate ideas easily. When activated positively, you have the potential to succeed in whatever you touch.

2 - You can understand other people's motivations, that is, you can grasp why they do what they do at a glance. This gives you esoteric abilities.

3 - You have a good taste and a high sense of aesthetics. You have the ability to expand; you can turn a small task into big projects.

4 - You excel in team management and establishing authority. You have a strong talent for attracting money. If money isn’t coming to you, it means you are activating this area negatively.

5 - You have a talent for learning and teaching. You can master anything and explain everything you know in a way the other side can understand.

6 - Your communication skills and sincerity stand out. You are someone people come to for advice, trust what you say, and listen to your words.

7 - You have the ability to progress quickly in any job, reach your desired goals, and inspire change in both yourself and those around you.

8 - It's hard, if not impossible, for others to lie to you. You can approach everything objectively. You can achieve balance and harmony.

9 - You are more mature than your age, and this grants you wisdom. You have the ability to achieve your inner goals (knowing yourself, realizing your dreams and desires) on your own.

10 - This is a placement that brings luck. You have the talent to manage finances easily and spot profitable opportunities. You can easily attract people to yourself.

11 - Your physical and spiritual endurance is strong. You can do everything at once. You know your strengths and can use them in the most accurate way.

12 - Spiritual practices (like meditation, breathing, reiki) work well for you and have healing effects when applied to others. You have a different perspective and can solve seemingly unsolvable problems.

13 - You can make the necessary changes in every area of life and are not afraid to take risks. You can learn multiple things at once. You have the ability to easily absorb deep and detailed information.

14 - You have diplomacy and mediation skills. You can calm conflicts and maintain your composure during these processes.

15 - By opening yourself to others, you can show them what they cannot see in themselves. You can easily identify others' weaknesses, vulnerabilities, and talents.

16 - You are talented in directing people, organizing, and creating strategies. You can foresee events and chart your course accordingly.

17 - Your ability to express yourself is unique and creative. You can be the center of attention in any field you wish, shine, and stand out from the crowd.

18 - Your subconscious is very powerful. You may receive information through dreams, and your dreams may come true. Your manifesting ability is strong; everything you visualize can come into your life.

19 - You have leadership qualities and can inspire/give strength to others for success. You have the ability to not give up no matter what.

20 - You have good speaking skills and can influence masses. You can create systems from nothing and have excellent analytical skills. It's hard to confuse you.

21 - You have an aptitude for foreign languages and cultures. You can adapt to any environment. You can produce knowledge and content for a wide audience or listener base.

22 - Your decisions and thoughts may be unpredictable by those around you. You influence people with your positive energy. You can turn every tough task into fun and achieve results that will surprise everyone.

Book a reading with me 🎀

[vaspider]

Measure 110, or the Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

So if y'all aren't local to Oregon, you may not have heard that the Oregon state legislature just voted to -- essentially -- gut Measure 110, the ballot measure which decriminalized all drug possession and use in the state. It turned all drug use into a citation instead, and the citation and fine could be waived by completing a health screening. The entire point of Measure 110 was replacing jail with health care and services to help people instead, and while I could probably write a very long side post on the imperfections of that approach, it was at the very least a move in the right direction after decades of the pathetic failure and absolutely racist mess that is the "War on Drugs."

You may hear this pointed to in coming years as a reason why we have to just throw people into jail for using drugs, because Measure 110 failed. And like... it did fail, kinda. Sorta. It failed in that it did not manage to fix everything immediately, and it created some new issues while also exposing older issues more sharply.

It also saved the state $40 million in court costs prosecuting low-level drug offenses, kept thousands of people whose literal only crime was putting a substance into the body of a consenting adult (themselves) out of jail, put at least one addiction services center in every county in the state, invested $300 million in addiction services, and an awful lot more. See the end of this post for more reading.

But where it failed, it failed because it wasn't supported. Police and advocacy groups both asked for specific tickets for this new class of offenses which had the phone number to call to go through the health screening and the information about how going through that health screening would make the ticket go away printed on it prominently - lawmakers declined to fund this. Governor Kotek budgeted $50K to train officers on how to handle these new citations and how to direct people to the treatment and housing supports, but lawmakers thought that training officers on this new law at all was a waste of money. Money moved extremely slowly out to the supports that were supposed to come into play to help people obtain treatment or get access to harm-reduction strategies. People freaked the fuck out about clean-needle outreach, fentanyl testing strip distribution, Narcan training, and other harm-reduction strategies.

And at the end of the day, Measure 110 gets called a failure because it wasn't a silver bullet. Never mind that thousands of people are not sitting in jail right now for basically no fucking reason. Never mind that people have gotten treatment, harm has been reduced, overdoses have been prevented...

So, yeah. You'll probably start hearing this trotted out as proof that, well, we triiiied decriminalizing drugs, but look what happened in Portland! Well, what happened in Oregon is that we got set up to fail, and still didn't fail, just didn't totally succeed.

Measure 110 highlights, quoted directly from Prison Policy Initiative:

The Oregon Health Authority reported a 298% increase in people seeking screening for substance use disorders.

More than 370,000 naloxone doses have been distributed since 2022, and community organizations report more than 7,500 opioid overdose reversals since 2020.

Although overdose rates have increased around the country as more fentanyl has entered the drug supply, Oregon’s increase in overdoses has been similar to other states’ and actually less than neighboring Washington’s. A peer-reviewed study comparing overdose rates in Oregon with the rest of the country after the law went into effect found no link between Measure 110 and increased overdose rates.

There is no evidence that drug use rates in Oregon have increased. A cross-sectional survey of people who use drugs across eight counties in Oregon found that most had been using drugs for years; only 1.5% reported having started after Measure 110 went into effect.

There has been no increase in 911 calls in Oregon cities after Measure 110.

Measure 110 saves Oregonians millions. Oregon is expected to save $37 million between 2023-2025 if Measure 110 continues. This is because it costs up to $35,217 to arrest, adjudicate, incarcerate, and supervise a person taken into custody for a drug misdemeanor — and upwards of $60,000 for a felony. In contrast, treatment costs an average of $9,000 per person. The money saved by Measure 110 goes directly to state funding for addiction and recovery services.

There is no evidence that Measure 110 was associated with a rise in crime. In fact, crime in Oregon was 14% lower in 2023 than it was in 2020.

Further reading/sources:

[deepspacenova]

LESS THAN ENEMIES

1100 words || mild hurt/comfort. injured sylus. pre-relationship. minor blood.

Note: trying out something new and joining a fandom instead of obsessing in silence for once. Please accept some Sylus whump as my humblest offering xx

Sylus’ favorite thing is to watch you on the battlefield.

It started with Mephisto, of course. The mechanical corvid kept tabs on so many of Sylus’ subjects of interest that he’d thought nothing of programming the so-called “special” new Hunter’s likeness into its tracking rounds.

When he saw your evol, he became determined to take her. When he saw you bound in front of him, no recognition in your eyes, he became intrigued. But when you put a bullet through his chest point blank, no hesitation, he became captivated. Enraptured. Obsessed.

After the auction — and when Mephisto’s wing maintenance went from biweekly to twice a week — Sylus decided to spare himself the trouble and started going himself.

He doesn’t get too close, can’t get too close, but he’ll never get enough of your ferocity, your determination, your grace when he watches you fight for your people. For your cause.

Even if it’s in direct opposition to his plans.

Actually, his men could stand to learn a thing or two from you. In wit, in strategy, in combat.

The thought almost manages to pull a smile from him.

As much enjoyment as he takes in seeing you dominate the battlefield, to hear you calling out orders to other Hunters, to witness the shimmering waves of your evol, he can’t ignore the tension he feels when he does. The apprehension.

The worry.

Picturing your beautiful body cut down, wounded, bleeding… it isn’t something he likes to think about.

And that’s why Sylus watches the battlefield.

It’s a chaotic dance of guns and swords. Your Hunters and the rogue faction that ceded from Onychinus months ago clashing on the blood-stained streets.

The rest of the neighborhood is dark but calm, filled with the high-pitched buzz of the street lamps on the periphery of N109. If he wasn’t scrutinizing you with such focus, it would’ve felt like he was heading out to join you for one of your midnight meet ups.

You're close to the building that’s casting Sylus into the shadows, your singular focus centered on the four men surrounding you. No other Hunters are nearby.

Sylus watches you weave a web of power around two, freezing them in place, swords locked into a swinging motion. At the same time you turn around and trap a third, his arms getting more frantic the higher you raise your gun, before he drops like a stone to the ground.

You’ll will win this one, Sylus muses, as the men he’d so generously chosen to oust from the organization rather than kill dwindle in numbers. Most of them are being tracked down by other Hunters, those that remain look like they might flee in a desperate attempt at self-preservation like the roaches they are.

Who knew the Hunter’s Association would become his pest control.

Sylus heightens the rush of power in his veins as one of the men takes advantage of your divided focus, shakes himself free of your power’s hold, and stumbles backwards, running toward the alleyway Sylus occupied in hopes of escape.

You recklessly release him without a care, letting him get as far as the curbside. He gasps when he spots Sylus, taking an instinctive shot with what looks like a pilfered Hunter’s gun just as Sylus unleashes his evol, let’s it hum from within him, through his veins to his palms as he snuffs the breath out of the man in front of him, as well as the two next to her.

The bodies topple onto the dirty asphalt in perfect harmony, joining the other vermin she’d taken care of.

An outraged gaze whips toward Sylus. You’d known he was there.

Before he can wonder at what he’d done to give himself away you're already marching toward him. Too irritated to make sure other Hunters aren’t following — they aren’t, Sylus has made sure — when you step in front of him. That magnificent power isn’t quite contained yet, casting a glow around you that makes him want to reach out and…

He crosses his arms in case they make any movements he doesn’t approve of.

“They had information I needed, you overbearing—”

He narrows his eyes, ignoring a twinge in his bicep as he leans it against the building. “They’re your enemies, sweetie. Do you think they would’ve had the same mercy with you?”

“They might’ve,” you bite out. “Now, thanks to you, we’ll never know.”

He hardens his jaw. Your naiveté would get you hurt one day. “Trust me, they weren’t about to help you, they wanted to hurt you. To cut all your little Hunters down and take you with them.” Tendrils of his power wrap around your waist like a vine, yanking you toward him on a gasped breath, and your hands feel like brands on his chest.

“And, kitten?” You purse your lips, looking past his shoulder to ignore him, taking the comfort of that gaze from him. Growling low in his throat, he tilts your chin back up, tracing his thumb over the silky edge of your jaw. “I won’t let anyone do that.”

The frosty glare in your eyes melts, taking the last of your anger with it.

“I won’t either,” you murmurs. Stepping back, you take your face from his grasp. “Alright, let’s get out of here. I don’t need any of the other Hunters catching you.”

Sylus sighs, turning his back to the bodies when lightning pierces through his arm, causing him to cover it up with an annoyed hiss.

“Sylus? Sylus. What’s going on? What’s happened?”

Trying to calm the frantic words that match your frantic hands, he grits out, “I’m fine. Must’ve happened right before I took care of those last three. It’s nothing.”

You're grasping at his fingers to peel them away, revealing a decently sized chunk of flesh removed from his bleeding bicep.

It’s not the most severe wound he’s ever sustained, by far. Still, he’s mildly impressed that a Hunter’s bullet could pack such a punch. He’ll need to look into those.

“It’s not nothing, there’s no way that’s going to heal on its own. You need… stitches or something. I’m taking you to the base.” Wrapping one palm around his arm and the other around his wrist, you steer him by the arm in the opposite direction of Linkon. “And before you say anything, every Hunter goes through field medic training.”

It’s the same tone you use with other Hunters, those you call friends. The sound of determination coated in the steel of care and concern -for him.

You're treating him like he’s… yours.

He ignores the sudden balloon expanding in his chest at the thought. “You know you never need an excuse to put your hands on me, kitten,” he drawls with a smirk, deciding to give himself into it, into her.

And despite the most serious injury he’s had in a while tearing into the space between his missing skin and your palm, all he can feel is a fluttering, healing warmth when your cheeks flush and your pace quickens.

[shaunamilfman]

can't wait for love (to destroy us) [1]

pairing: Jackie Taylor x reader x Shauna Shipman summary: What should you do when you're stuck in the middle of a fight between your friends? Definitely not whatever you're doing. Maybe your friends are using you to make the other jealous. So what? note: MDNI. masterlist

You took another sip, cautiously slow–hoping that if you managed to keep your mouth full long enough, neither of them would ask you your opinion. You could tell they wanted to drag you in. Both glancing at you out of the corner of their eyes whenever they made a particularly good point. Jackie would roll her eyes, and Shauna would huff, but neither had called you out on it yet.

This strategy isn't going to work forever. Not because you've suddenly found the courage to end it, but because you're almost out of beer–a fact you're suddenly faced with as your next sip is met with only air. You peer down into the cup with a despondent expression, the few drops pooling around the bottom mocking your efforts to stay neutral. There was no escaping now, even as you tried to swirl the cup to get one last sip out of it. Shauna's quick to jump on your moment of weakness, eyes narrowing on the now-empty cup. 

“Right?” Shauna prompts, her voice expectant as she locks eyes with you in search of support. The words hang in the air like a demand, not a request.

Your eyes widen in panic, glancing back and forth between them for an escape route. The irritated look she was sending Jackie softened as she looked over at you, but you still feared having the full force of that glare turned on you. It’s obvious her frustration is only paused, ready to redirect towards you at any sign of weakness.

God knows you didn't have the same guaranteed protection from it that Jackie did. With Jackie? There’s history. Messy at times, but undeniably deep. You’re not so lucky.

“Uh…” You begin, feeling like you’re swallowing sand. Both sets of eyes burn into you, waiting. You try to find some neutral ground–something you can say that won't set the other off on you. The only thing worse than being stuck in the middle is choosing sides. You learned quickly that it was a fast track to both of them being pissed at you if you did anything other than placate them.

Jackie looks at you in concern as she takes in the sight of your fidgeting hands, twitching with the anxiety you’re trying so hard to hide. She reaches out and puts a hand on your wrist, a subtle comfort at your obvious distress. You'd think it was sweet if you hadn't caught the way her eyes flicked toward Shauna to see if she was watching first. The realization that it was as much for Shauna’s detriment as it was for your benefit was a bitter pill to swallow, but you find comfort in it anyhow.

You breathe out a sigh of relief, about to answer–something vague and noncommittal–before Shauna reaches out and grabs your other wrist. It was more an imitation of Jackie than any genuine desire to comfort you, as the firmness of the grip would tell you. An attempt to claim ownership over you, as if you were a prize to be won. You were embarrassingly flattered, no matter how much you told yourself to be upset. There’s something intoxicating about being the center of their attention, even if for the wrong reasons.

Jackie's mouth formed a disapproving frown at the action, her grip tightening subtly. Shauna, on the other hand, looked unfazed. She didn't even look directly at Jackie, giving you her full attention. Jackie's thumb rubbed gently against your wrist, trying to soothe you as you started looking visibly stressed. 

“So?” Shauna prompted, looking at you imploringly. 

You think suddenly of fogged windows, the heavy condensation from each ragged breath hiding you away from the outside world. You remember the way her nails dug into your shoulders and the sharp sting of them as she raked them across your skin. The way she straddled you, rocking the whole car with the force of her hips as she rode your fingers. She clung to you like you were the only thing grounding her in that moment. Her breath was always hot against your neck; quiet gasps let out against your ear as she buried her head in your shoulder. You can still feel her sharp teeth and the way she bit into your shoulder, marking you with a mouth that left bruises across your collar. 

A whiny “Don't rush her,” coming from Jackie's direction, pulls you out of your memories, forcing you to snap back to the present. She sounds defensive, just as much about protecting you as it is about staking her own claim. The memories fade from your mind as you turn toward Jackie. You pull your jacket–Shauna’s jacket–tighter around your shoulders like a shield, hoping it’ll somehow protect you from the ramifications of this conversation. Jackie’s eyes narrow in on the movement immediately, and Shauna looks immeasurably smug.

Shauna’s eyes are still on you, waiting for an answer to her unspoken question: Do you still belong to her? She wants to know if you’re still with her. As much as you try to focus on her, you find your thoughts betraying you once again.

Flashes of Jackie’s delicate fingers curling in your hair fill your mind, soft hands tugging with a desperation that inspires devotion. You can almost feel the way her thighs would clench around your head, a demand for more of your attention even as she struggled to voice it. Desperate little noises that always turn into something suspiciously like a whimper. The taste of her skin beneath your lips, the smell of her favorite perfume as you mouthed at her neck. A hand thumping against the bed as she tries to keep herself quiet, trembling with the effort of it, so embarrassed at the thought of being caught like that. The hickeys that get left politely beneath where your shirt would cover, hidden away like a secret. But when she was feeling particularly bold, she’d leave them atop already bruised skin, deepening the ones Shauna’s scattered across you.

“What do I think?” You ask slowly, hoping your voice isn't as shaky as it sounds in your head. You have their full attention now, you can tell. That's a rare thing: even when they're using you against each other, they're still paying more attention to each other. It's a heady feeling that you quickly put an end to as you continue. “I think I should get us more drinks.” 

And run away. 

Like an adult. 

…

You weren’t sure what had started the fight or if it even mattered at this point. The specifics had become irrelevant, as the back-and-forths spiraled it into something much more dramatic than whatever had started it.

It was probably Shauna’s fault, you were willing to guess–she had a knack for that sort of thing–but you didn’t know for certain. No matter what they said about each other, they weren’t willing to tell you what exactly they were arguing about. They always kept it vague, details kept between them and shared only through glares and pointed comments. You’d been through this enough times to know better than to pry, but this was starting to go on far too long.

It’s so damn frustrating, and yet completely expected at the same time.

It wasn’t presumptuous of you to say you were Jackie and Shauna’s closest friend. It is to say, Jackie-and-Shauna’s closest friend. The distinction wasn’t lost on you. You hold no delusions about even measuring up to the other–they’ve been a package deal just as far back as you can remember. But out of everyone else in the world, you can’t say they’ve even given anyone else the time of day. 

It was a point of pride, as silly as that sometimes makes you feel. But it means you often end up playing mediator. You couldn’t help but take some level of satisfaction in how much they leaned on you, how much they wanted you to be on their side. Maybe you could have even done a good job of it if you were ever given the chance. No, they were much more interested in fighting over you. Mostly just through you. 

Which brings you to–

“No, she wants to go to the mall with me on Saturday. She doesn’t even like that movie!” Jackie insists voice sharp with unearned conviction, as she tugs on your wrist to pull you closer to her. It’s an oddly possessive gesture, which isn’t lost on you. Neither is the way she’s looking at Shauna, as if daring her to contradict her.

“No,” Shauna says stiffly, her irritation obvious. She squares her shoulders, refusing to back down. She’s never seen a fight she isn’t determined to win. “We just watched the first one last month. Tell her.” Her voice drops a notch, low and insistent, as she turns the brunt of her attention on you. A demand for your loyalty that you reluctantly concede to.

Jackie looks over at you expectantly, her eyes wide and pleading. She nearly stomps her foot on the ground when you nod in confirmation, catching herself at the last moment. She groans, running her hand through her hair in frustration, the strands slipping easily through her fingers as she struggles to control her emotions. There’s a flash of hurt in her eyes, quickly hidden as she crosses her arms over his chest.

It twists something in your chest, an ache that you jump to soothe. “We can go earlier. The movie doesn’t start till 4, right?”

“We were going to rewatch the first one, remember?” Shauna’s voice was clipped, patience wearing thin. Great, now Shauna’s annoyed with you too. She crosses her arms, mirroring Jackie’s defensiveness.

“Sunday, then?” You offer desperately, your voice betraying your rising panic. Jackie looks between you and Shauna, frustration evident in the set of her jaw, before giving a reluctant nod. This clearly wasn’t how she was expecting this interaction to go.

You either, as you were desperately counting on this weekend to study for your exam on Monday. Looks like that plan was out the window as well. 

Shauna, on the other hand, seems to consider it for a moment. Weighing her options with narrowed eyes, comparing it to whatever invisible scoreboard she’s keeping in her mind. Though, now that you think about it. There might be an actual scoreboard in her journal. Eventually she gives a curt nod, but you can tell it isn’t over. It’s not a full victory this way.

“I forgot something in your car,” Jackie says suddenly, giving you an expectant look. Your eyes narrow in confusion.

“I didn’t drive here–”

“Now.” 

Well then.

…

Your car is parked in some forgotten corner of the parking garage nearest to your dorm. Still close enough that it was technically quicker to get to your car than your dorm, but not quick enough to justify Jackie choosing it when your roommate wasn't even home. You'd tried to point this out as Jackie dragged you by the hand across the garage, but she'd just given you that look–the shut up and just do what I say look. 

It was one of your favorites. 

It's quiet besides the occasional squeak of the seat beneath the two of you or the steps of those aimlessly walking to their car on the floor below yours. Jackie seems to notice neither, her voice half-whisper and half-complaint as she looms large above you. 

“She’s just so–” a kiss pressed against your jaw, “–so frustrating–” teeth nipping at your skin, lingering near your ear. You're not sure if Jackie's trying to make her point or just trying to make you lose focus. Knowing her, probably both. 

“She knows what she's doing,” Jackie continues, fully committed to her one-sided argument. Her hands grip your shoulders possessively, like Shauna might pop out of nowhere–the glove box, maybe–and take you right out from under her. Her eyes dart toward the front seat again, like she's genuinely checking. “That little look, like she thinks she's already won, and then–”

“Jackie,” You try again, breathless from the feeling of her lips against your skin. You tilt your head back, giving her more room to work with while also making sure you don't have to look her in the eyes as you continue. “She barely–”

“Don't,” Jackie starts, biting at your collarbone in retribution. It's not painful, God knows Shauna's bit you harder for lesser crimes, but it's enough to make your words falter and die in your throat. Exactly what Jackie wanted. “Take her side.” Her voice is low, dangerous, like she's taking this as a declaration of war. Only Jackie Taylor could be this damn dramatic. 

It's hard not to think of earlier, the study session in the library that never was. It was stupid of you to allow Shauna to convince you to go to the library closest to her and Jackie's dorm. There were plenty of other libraries on campus that wouldn’t have spelled your doom, but she’d even thrown in a “please?” on the phone as she asked. That should have been your first clue that she was up to no good. Shauna never said please, but that’s what made it impossible to say no to her.

You should've known that Jackie would find a way to tag along once she saw the two of you together on her way to the dining hall. Her bag had hit the ground with a surprisingly heavy thump as she stormed over–you hadn’t realized she’d even carried anything in that bag, always making you carry her textbooks for her. She’d sat down with a terse smile on her face, already looking like she was prepared for war.

Shauna had teased her all night, in that knowing way that only a best friend could. It drove Jackie up the wall even at the best of times, and tonight was no different. There you were again, stuck in the middle of it–quite literally, this time. The two of them had taken the seats on either side of you, both refusing to be the one sitting across from you at the small table in the corner of the library. They wouldn’t even speak to each other except through you, a fucked-up game of telephone that made you want to tear your hair out in frustration.

You thought Jackie was going to die on the spot as Shauna’s hand started creeping up your leg, only ever when Jackie was talking to you. It was subtle at first, enough that you hadn’t even noticed, but it quickly became obvious to both you and Jackie what she was doing. Jackie was visibly flustered by the whole thing, eyes narrowed and cheeks darkening as her eyes kept glancing down at your lap. Though, all the while, she refused to verbally acknowledge it. Her own little form of revenge, as the lack of acknowledgment frustrated Shauna enough that her fingers started to press almost painfully into your skin.

Then, as Shauna mentioned how much fun she had with you last weekend in your car, you thought you were going to die on the spot. That little grin on Shauna’s face as she said it, the way her lips curled up at the corners as Jackie bristled, would be enough to have you trying to drag her to the nearest exit at the best of times. Your pulse had raced at the reminder, cheeks flushing as you shifted inconspicuously in your chair. Jackie had not graciously accepted that defeat in any sense of the word. 

Then came the argument about your weekend plans, leaving you almost helpless as they volleyed arguments back and forth. You hadn’t planned on going home with Jackie today, but you certainly wouldn’t be making any complaints.

“She's just mad I'm winning,” Jackie says confidently, placing an almost apologetic kiss against the reddened flesh of your collarbone. She cups the side of your face, looking you directly in the eye as if daring you to disagree. You wouldn’t call what she did back there winning, but you certainly weren’t going to point that out. The intoxicating scent of her perfume in the cramped backseat of your car makes it hard to focus on anything else.

“You can't win an argument,” You point out with no real conviction. You can’t bring yourself to care, but you know Jackie’s expecting some sort of back and forth here. The quicker you can get the conversation over with, the quicker you can get beneath that skirt she's been teasing you with all day. 

“Maybe you can't,” Jackie says smugly.  “But I can. And I am.” 

You don't point out that it's probably less of her winning the argument and more of Shauna just getting so mad that she storms off. Shauna’s temper was nothing less than legendary, and you certainly wouldn’t want to be on the other side of her anger. Jackie never seems to mind, though.

“Sure, Jackie.” 

“Don't patronize me.” She taps her finger warningly against your forehead. 

“Wouldn't dream of it.” You lift your arms up in surrender, palms facing toward her. She traces a fingertip up your arm, entangling your fingers together as she brings your hands down between you. 

“But you dream of me, right?”

“Every night, and twice on Sundays.” You squeeze her hand lightly for emphasis. 

Jackie rolls her eyes pointedly but still looks embarrassingly pleased at the words. “Loser,” She mutters, taking your hand and starting to guide it up her shirt. 

“You know what's worse than being a loser?”

Jackie shakes her head wordlessly, muscles contracting beneath the cold touch of your fingers as you skim your hands up her sides, taking the hem of her shirt up with them. Her lips part like she's about to say something teasing, but she just lets out the slightest gasp as you graze her bra. 

“Letting a loser fuck you.” 

Jackie scoffs, but there's no real bite to it. “Shut up,” She mutters, cheeks flushed as she closes her eyes for a moment before looking back at you. 

Her skin prickles with goosebumps as she raises her arms over her head, shivering as the cold air brushes against her bare shoulders as you toss her shirt somewhere behind her. She shivers again as your eyes trail slowly across her chest, but the slight hitch in her breath tells you it’s not entirely from the cold this time. Jackie impatiently grabs your hands, bringing them back to her hips with a grumbled complaint.

“Hurry up,” She complains, moving to cover her chest with her hands only to roll her eyes as you quickly smack them away. Her bra was doing little to shield herself from your attention–thin, lacey, and utterly immodest. Did she wear it for you, or did she hope for Shauna to see it?

“Can’t you ever be patient?” You ask dryly, hands settling back on her waist as you press a kiss to the hollow of her throat.

“You’re so annoying,” She mumbles, hands sliding up to grip at your hair as you trail your way down the line of her throat. Jackie lets out a breathy little gasp as you slide your hand down her leg, fingers curling over the hem of her skirt as you start to push it upward.

You're startled apart by a sharp rapping of knuckles against the window. You tilt your head back to see a familiar flannel waiting just outside the door to your back seat. Jackie glares over your shoulder, her jaw stiff as she looks right on past you. You roll your eyes, leaning forward so that you can open the door behind you. Jackie lets out a sharp noise of protest but makes no other move to stop you as you unlock the door. 

“Can we help you?” Jackie asks irritatedly, not bothering to hide her mused hair and heavy breathing. You can feel Jackie shifting in your lap, just enough to be intentional at the sight of Shauna. Her chest rises and falls with each breath, a sight that catches both you and Shauna for a moment before Shauna shakes it off like nothing happened.

Shauna pulls the door open the rest of the way before you can, holding out your textbook lazily in one hand. She leans down, her expression perfectly neutral except for the glint of satisfaction in her eyes. If you didn't know her as well as you did, you'd probably have missed it. Jackie's huff tells you she caught it as well–though, was that ever truly in doubt? 

“You forgot this,” Shauna says, purposely letting her fingers brush against yours as you take it from her hands. She trails her fingers up your wrist for a moment, just long enough for Jackie to get a good hard look at it from her place in your lap, before stepping back. 

“Thanks,” You say stupidly, blindly dropping it into the front passenger seat. Out of sight, out of mind. 

Shauna grins. “Don't mention–” She trails off as Jackie shifts around, her hand resting on the back of your neck as she turns your attention back toward her. 

“... It.” Shauna finishes lamely. 

“She won't,” Jackie says, sickly sweet. “Close the door, would you?”

Shauna gapes wordlessly at the two of you for a moment before finally slamming the door shut with more force than necessary, shaking the car with the effort of it. The thud of the door reverberates through the car as the sound of Shauna’s footsteps almost stomp away. 

Jackie lets out a satisfied hum, momentarily enjoying the win before her grip tightens on your neck. She looks like she’s a split second from throwing both you and the book out of the car entirely, eyes narrowed as she stares at Shauna until she disappears from view.

“I can’t believe she would try something like that,” Jackie mutters.

Jackie makes the whole situation out to be a real hardship–like Shauna’s derailed her plans for the evening. Graciously, you choose not to point out that Jackie had started rocking her hips down against your thigh the second she caught a glimpse of Shauna, a whine leaving her lips at just the thought of Shauna watching her get off on your thigh. Interestingly, Shauna hadn’t called her out on it either.

A part of you wishes they would just hurry up and get over whatever they started arguing about in the first place, but an even larger part of you is content to let this continue. It’s not like sleeping with either of them is new, but the intensity they’ve been going at you the last few weeks is nothing short of life changing. If this is the way they want to work out their argument–competing for your attention in a way you probably shouldn’t be allowing–then that’s their business.

“Jackie, maybe we should–” 

“Come on,” She whines. Her eyes are blown wide as she looks at you, her expression caught somewhere between desperation and frustration. You do so love when she gets like this. “You said you were going to fuck me.”

The words are blunt, so much less subtle than Jackie's usual choice of cloying glances and teasing words. She only ever gets like this when Shauna is involved. It should make you jealous, should make you want to storm off in a huff, but all it really does is make your mind up for you. 

“Don't make me ask again,” She says, a command that almost borders on a plea. 

Jackie, as if sensing your resistance breaking, grabs your wrist firmly and guides it upward. Your breath catches in your throat as her skirt rides up, fabric pooling around your wrist and revealing more of her skin with every moment. As your knuckles brush against the smooth skin of her inner thighs, Jackie just sighs, her hand leaving yours to rest her arms on your shoulder as she widens her stance to accommodate your hand. 

“I knew you'd come around,” She whispers, voice low and smug. Jackie's trying to tease you, like she so often does, but the way her thighs tremble ever so slightly as you palm her betrays her attention. 

She whines, hips pressing forward instinctively into the touch as she digs her nails into your shoulders. She's so warm and wet, even through the thin fabric of her panties. The fabric clings to her, leaving little to the imagination. You almost want to tease her back, ask her what–or who's–gotten her so worked up, but the noise she lets out as you pull her panties off to the side is so pathetic you don't even bother. You press forward slowly, watching her expression closely as you work two fingers inside her. 

“Jackie,” You murmur, your free hand coming up to her waist to steady her as she rocks onto your hand. She’s trying to find her own rhythm, utterly desperate and only adding to her own frustration. Your grip on her hip becomes firmer as you guide her into something she can maintain, setting a pace that leaves her gasping.

“God,” Jackie says, almost reverent as her head falls against your shoulder to bury her face into your neck. She clutches at your back, trying to pull you closer just as much as she claws at anything she can reach. You can hear her hitched breaths and quiet gasps against your ear as she tries and fails to keep herself quiet, uncomfortably aware of the chance of discovery.

“Good?” You ask, already expecting the answer. You just like hearing her say it.

“Don’t sound so smug…” She mutters, the words trailing off into a moan as you curl your fingers, just the way she likes. 

“Fine,” Jackie gasps, her hand fisting in your shirt. “Good–so good.”

You shush her, pressing a kiss against the side of her head as she bites at your shoulder in retaliation. “You’re going to get us caught,” You chide, hiding a laugh at her frustrated protests.

“You asked me to–God, shut up.”

You do laugh this time, letting Jackie kiss you to shut you up. It's messy, a rushed attempt to keep you from drawing attention to her. Her lips part against yours, teeth clashing and so uncoordinated, but so fucking perfect. Your arm burns, wrist aching from the angle, but you can't bring yourself to pay it any mind as Jackie's whine is muffled against your lips every time you grind your palm up against her clit. Not with Jackie like this–not with the way her thighs tremble as she chases the friction of your palm. 

The car feels impossibly small with Jackie pressed so tightly against you, barely giving you enough room to move your hand as Jackie comes with a choked sob, hips stuttering and nails digging into whatever she can reach.

[felassan]

New Details on DA4 from this IGN article: "Dragon Age: Dreadwolf Is Officially Being Renamed, With Gameplay Reveal Set for June 11 - EXCLUSIVE"

"BioWare confirmed that The Veilguard will feature seven playable party members, and that it will feature “fun and fluid, moment-to-moment combat” while continuing to center strategy via the unique powers of each companion.

BioWare general manager Gary McKay explains that while Solas is “still very much a part of the story of Dragon Age: The Veilguard,” the team wanted a title that reflected a “really deep and compelling group of companions.”

“One thing that’s important to remind fans is that every Dragon Age game is a new and different experience and this game, more so than ever, is about you and your companions – a group that you must rally to fight by your side,” McKay tells IGN. “We can’t wait for players to meet, connect and form their own personal relationships with the unique companions that make up The Veilguard. That’s the spirit of this game…of this story. Choosing who will join you on your adventure, fight alongside you, and be there by your side in the end.”

McKay claims that the name change wasn’t a matter of focus testing, which commonly informs decisions like these. He even goes so far as to admit that sticking with Dreadwolf might have been easier.

“We actually think sticking with Dreadwolf would have been the safer choice – ‘Dread Wolf’ is a cool name after all!” McKay says. “In the end, it was most important for us to have a title that was authentic to the companions that are the heart of this adventure we’ve created. We’ve worked throughout development to create really incredible backstories for each companion that intersect with the main narrative in meaningful ways.”

As for why it’s not simply named “Dragon Age IV,” McKay says it’s for the same reason that Dragon Age Inquisition wasn’t called “Dragon Age III: Inquisition.”

“Every game in the series tells its own unique story and the title is an important element to help set the stage for the next standalone adventure inclusive of its own hero, companions, narrative arc, villain, setting, etc,” he says.

Asked what it means for BioWare to finally be able to show The Veilguard to the world, McKay said, “As the studio head and executive producer, it’s been incredible to see the journey, resilience and passion that this team continues to bring every day. We have an incredible group of both BioWare and Dragon Age veterans who have been with us for years, as well as new faces and voices that love the series who have helped to create an unforgettable experience we feel will be worthy of the Dragon Age name.”

So who exactly are the Veilguard? In the lore, the Veil is a barrier between the physical world and Fade, which is Dragon Age’s spirit realm. Solas, who helped create the Veil, now wants to destroy it. Hence, as McKay puts it, “the Veil needs guarding.”

While acknowledging that the why and the how is definitely spoiler territory, McKay says, “The biggest clue I can share is that you and your companions – that make up The Veilguard – are central to taking down a new evil threat unleashed upon Thedas. It might not just be Solas.”

McKay isn’t quite ready to reveal the party members quite yet, but does provide some hints on what to expect, including some initial info on romances.

“We spent a lot of time making our companions feel authentic based on their own unique experiences within this larger fantasy world, which in turn makes the relationships you form with them feel even more meaningful. We’ve tapped into Dragon Age’s deep lore and explored its most iconic factions to bring each of the seven companions and their stories to life,” he says.

“I won’t spoil next week’s reveal but I can say we’ve created a story where you can impact the world and the companions that surround you. Player agency is important to the Dragon Age: The Veilguard experience and allows each player to form unique personal connections with their companions of choice. And, yes, you can romance the companions you want!”

McKay says the decision to pare the number of companions from nine to seven is mostly down to it being the “right number for the story we’re telling.” Each one is intended to represent a unique faction or element from Thedas, and will feature their own arc with “stories of love and loss, each with meaningful choices and emotional moments.”

He continues, “As you accompany your companions to unravel their backstory and earn their loyalty and friendship, you’ll visit more regions of Thedas across a deeper variety of biomes than any Dragon Age before it.”

McKay mostly sidesteps questions of how Inquisition’s characters might fit into The Veilguard’s story, though he does confirm that it will once again feature an original protagonist similar to The Warden, Hawke, and The Inquisitor, noting that each Dragon Game has its own standalone story with its own thread and conflict.

“Games across the Dragon Age franchise are never designed as a game-over-game continuous storyline. There are familiar arcs, factions and heroes important to the overarching Dragon Age universe that weave through the new story we’re telling,” he explains. “The previous games, characters and events aren’t the anchor of Dragon Age: The Veilguard it’s about your adventure with a brand new cast of companions that you must rally to fight against a powerful force.”

He once again teases another villain beyond Solas: “I don’t want to get too deep into spoiler territory but I can say that the Dread Wolf is not the only god players need to be worried about.”

When The Veilguard is finally revealed on June 11, BioWare’s presentation will include 15 minutes of gameplay from the opening moments of the game, which will help set up the story. On the gameplay front, McKay says that The Veilguard’s combat was a “big area of focus” and something the team wanted to push forward. Among other things, McKay says that The Veilguard will feature an ability wheel designed to give players more direct control over their characters.

“As an RPG, strategy in combat is important as you bring two companions to every fight. Each companion brings unique powers and abilities that have a direct impact on how you choose to take down the enemies at hand,” he says. “To add another layer to that strategic element, we’re introducing a new ability wheel where you can pause the action and set up your next move – whether it’s your companions’ abilities or your own.

“The ability wheel opens up a huge amount of strategic possibilities, giving players the ability to control the flow of combat and link powerful combinations of abilities between players and their companions that can quickly turn the tide of any battle. We think we’ve found an exciting balance between fun, fluidity and strategy for every encounter.”

“This is a game and experience that continues BioWare’s tradition of single player RPG storytelling set in the epic fantasy world of Thedas,” McKay says. “We know Dragon Age fans and the community have been waiting a long time for the next game and we could not be more excited to share our gameplay reveal on June 11.""

[source] (emphasis mine)

[mediocre-shark-tales]

US Texas GP part 2

Masterlist

The morning air was thick with anticipation as I arrived at the Circuit of the Americas, my home paddock bustling with energy. Today was sprint day, and while the buzz of excitement usually filled me with adrenaline, an unsettling tension clung to me this morning.

Walking through the paddock, I waved at a few familiar faces—Lando, Franco, even Liam, who offered me a thumbs-up from across the way. But as I approached Aston Martin’s garage, something caught me off guard.

One of the newer engineers, a man I hadn’t interacted with much yet, stepped into my path with a broad smile. He was tall, with a polished demeanor that bordered on smug.

“Good morning,” he said, his tone overly familiar as his eyes scanned me in a way that made my skin crawl. “Looking ready to impress today.”

I forced a polite smile, nodding. “Morning. Just focused on the sprint.”

He chuckled, stepping a little closer, his presence making me instinctively take a step back. “Focused, huh? Well, I’d say you’ve already got everyone’s attention. Though... some of us are paying more attention than others.”

There was something in his tone—a low insinuation—that made my stomach twist. My pulse quickened, and I gripped the strap of my bag tightly.

“I should get going,” I said, my voice firm but neutral as I tried to sidestep him.

But he moved slightly, just enough to block my path for a split second longer. “No need to rush. Plenty of time before the sprint, isn’t there?”

Before I could respond—or react—another voice cut through the tension.

“There you are!” one of the team’s PR staff called, walking briskly toward us. “We need you for a pre-sprint briefing, now. Sorry to interrupt.”

The engineer stepped aside, his smile unfaltering but his eyes cold. “Of course. Don’t let me keep you.”

I didn’t wait for further pleasantries, quickly walking toward the PR staffer. My chest felt tight, a swirl of unease and confusion brewing within me.

“You okay?” the staffer asked quietly as we made our way toward the media center.

“Yeah,” I said automatically, though I wasn’t sure if it was true. “Just... ready to focus on the race.”

The rest of the morning blurred by in a whirlwind of interviews, photo ops, and last-minute strategy discussions. I pushed the strange encounter to the back of my mind, burying it under layers of professionalism and focus. But every so often, the engineer’s words and lingering gaze replayed in my head, a shadow I couldn’t quite shake.

As I slipped into my race suit and helmet, I took a deep breath, forcing myself to center my thoughts. This was my moment, my chance to shine in front of a home crowd. Whatever had happened earlier could wait—I had a job to do.

The paddock buzzed with anticipation as the sprint race approached. Reporters and fans were clamoring to catch a glimpse of the helmet designs I’d teased earlier in the week. As I walked to the car, the crowd erupted in cheers, and I felt the weight of their support.

Sliding on the sprint helmet for the first time, I couldn’t help but admire the design in the reflection of the car’s side mirror. The eagle looked fierce, and the colors of the sunset practically glowed under the bright Texas sun.

“Ready to show them what America can do?” Franco teased while walking past to get in his car. 

“Always,” I replied, grinning.

The sprint race itself was a battle. The tight midfield pack made overtaking a challenge, but I managed to hold my P4. It wasn't an improvement, but it was the best placement I would be finishing this race. No one would be taking that from me. 

As the laps dwindled, the intensity on the track escalated. Every corner, every straight was a test of skill and nerve. The Circuit of the Americas was unforgiving, demanding precision and mental fortitude. My heart pounded in my chest, the adrenaline coursing through me like electricity. The roar of the engines, the cheers of the crowd, and the sheer speed of the cars around me created a symphony of chaos and excitement.

Carlos Sainz, piloting his Ferrari, was just ahead in P3. He was pushing his car to the limit, his focus unyielding. For most of the race, he had been a formidable opponent, keeping a steady pace and maintaining his position with calculated aggression. But as we approached the penultimate laps, something shifted.

Lap 42. The grandstands were a blur of color and sound, the energy palpable. The midfield was a tangled mess of cars vying for every inch, but there was a brief moment of calm as we settled into a rhythm, each driver aware of the other’s presence.

Lap 43. Sainz began to push harder, his car responding to his aggressive inputs. I mirrored his moves, maintaining my position but feeling the strain on my tires and engine. The team’s earlier adjustments were paying off, giving me the grip and stability I needed. Every corner was a strategic decision, a balance between speed and control.

Lap 44. We were neck and neck as we entered Turn 7, the tight left-hander that often proved pivotal. Sainz took the inside line, attempting to gain an advantage, but his tire temperatures were beginning to rise under the relentless pressure. My car felt responsive, every movement precise, yet the tension was building with each passing second.

Lap 45. The final lap loomed ahead, the countdown to the podium inches away. As we approached Turn 14, Sainz’s pace faltered. I could almost see the slight hesitation in him, the subtle shift in his driving pattern. It was a small mistake, barely noticeable, but in F1, even the slightest error could be costly.

Lap 46. Turning into Turn 12, I seized the opportunity. With a deft maneuver, I edged closer, the gap narrowing. Sainz tried to compensate, but his car didn’t respond as sharply as mine. I felt a surge of determination, knowing that this was my moment. The crowd’s roar intensified, their voices blending into a singular wave of support that fueled my drive.

Lap 47. Approaching the final straight, I was within inches of Sainz’s rear wing. The speedometer was flashing, the RPMs climbing to their limits. My hands tightened on the steering wheel, every fiber of my being focused on this one decisive move. The finish line was within sight, and I could almost taste the triumph.

Lap 48. The final lap began, and the track seemed to stretch endlessly before me. I maintained my position, the car humming with power beneath me. Sainz made one last desperate push, attempting to reclaim his position. But the balance of my car was perfect, the setup flawless. As we surged down the back straight, his Ferrari began to wobble, the rear tires losing traction on the slick asphalt.

Lap 49. The inevitable happened. Sainz’s car fishtailed slightly as he tried to correct, the momentum carrying him past the braking zone for Turn 1. His momentum was his downfall, and as he struggled to regain control, I saw the opening. Without hesitation, I took the inside line, smoothly overtaking him in a split second of pure racing instinct.

Lap 50. Now in P3, the race surged toward its conclusion with renewed vigor. The final corners were a blur of speed and strategy, each driver pushing their limits in a desperate bid for position. I felt the car respond to every command, the tires gripping the tarmac as I navigated the final bends with precision.

As I approached the last corner, the checkered flag was in sight. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the track and bathing everything in a warm, golden hue. My heart swelled with pride and excitement—P3 was within reach, my first ever podium finish in Formula 1. The culmination of months of hard work, perseverance, and the unwavering support of my team and friends.

The final straight was a test of endurance and focus. I held my line, the car maintaining its speed and balance as I crossed the finish line, a triumphant smile breaking across my face. Landon confirmed it—P3. The realization hit me like a tidal wave, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The cheers of the crowd, the shouts of my team, and the overwhelming sense of accomplishment washed over me.

As I brought the car to a stop and climbed out, the garage erupted in celebration. Franco and Lando rushed over, their faces lit up with pride and joy. “P3, Hermosa! That was incredible!” Franco exclaimed, throwing an arm around my shoulders. Lando hugged me tightly, his eyes shining. “You are on the podium with me! You did it! We knew you could!”

Amidst the celebration, I saw Liam Lawson and Hannah approaching, their smiles genuine and filled with happiness. Liam handed me a celebratory drink, while Hannah offered a warm congratulatory hug. “You were amazing out there,” Hannah said softly. “I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks, guys,” I replied, feeling a deep sense of gratitude. “I couldn’t have done it without all of you.”

As I looked around the garage, the realization that I had achieved something monumental settled in. P3 wasn’t just a personal victory—it was a milestone for Aston Martin, marking one of their best placements this season. The team’s hard work and dedication had paid off, and now, we stood on the brink of something greater.

The pride I felt was intertwined with a profound sense of belonging. This was my home race, and to podium here was the ultimate affirmation of my journey. The vibrant colors of the American flag on my sprint helmet still danced in my memory, symbolizing not just my roots but the spirit and resilience that had carried me this far.

As the podium celebrations began, I took a moment to soak it all in. The confetti flew, the fans cheered louder than ever, and the lights of the Circuit of the Americas sparkled in the twilight. Stepping into the makeshift sprint podium area, I felt a surge of emotion—joy, relief, and an unshakable sense of accomplishment. This was a dream realized, a moment that would define my career.

Franco, Liam and Hannah stood nearby, their support unwavering. As I lifted the third-place trophy, I couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning. The road ahead was still long and filled with challenges, but tonight, I was on top of the world, celebrated not just for my racing prowess but for who I truly was.

As the cheers of the crowd echoed around me, I felt a deep sense of fulfillment—this was where I belonged. Max, Lando, and I stood together for the customary podium pictures, our trophies gleaming in the Texas sun. The crowd roared with excitement, the energy electrifying. We posed with smiles, holding up our trophies, basking in the shared accomplishment of standing on this stage.

Once the photos wrapped up, we were given the signal to step away and begin preparations for the upcoming qualifying session later in the day. Before I could head toward the Aston Martin garage, Max stopped me with a light tap on the shoulder.

Turning to him, I saw a knowing smile on his face—calm and assured, with a glint of encouragement in his eyes. “You’re getting better with every race, kiddo,” he said, his voice steady but warm. “Keep this up, and it won’t be long before you and I are battling for the top step of the podium.”

His words carried weight, coming from someone who had mastered the art of dominating Formula 1. “Thanks, Max,” I replied, a genuine smile tugging at my lips. “That means a lot coming from you. I’ll give you a run for your money soon enough.”

Lando sauntered over, his cheeky grin plastered across his face. “Ah, Max, don’t go inflating her ego too much. She already thinks she’s the queen of the paddock.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress a laugh. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Lando. Just admit you’re terrified of me overtaking you one day.”

“Oh, absolutely petrified,” Lando teased, clutching his chest dramatically. “I mean, look at you—P3 in your home sprint race. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t impressive.”

Max chuckled, shaking his head. “You two are impossible.”

Lando’s tone softened slightly as he added, “In all seriousness, congrats. P3 isn’t easy, and you earned it. But don’t get too comfortable—I’m still gunning for you.”

“You can try, but good luck catching me,” I shot back with a wink, feeling the lighthearted camaraderie between us.

Max smirked, crossing his arms. “Alright, enough bickering, you two. Save it for the track. Qualifying is just a few hours away, and I expect both of you to bring your A-game.”

“You’re on,” I replied, a competitive spark igniting in my chest.

Lando nodded, already shifting into a more focused demeanor. “Let’s see who ends up where on the grid. Game on.”

With that, the three of us shared a quick nod of mutual respect before heading off toward our respective garages. As I walked back to the Aston Martin side of the paddock, I couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of purpose. These were the moments I had dreamed of—friendly rivalries, mutual respect, and the chance to prove myself on one of the greatest stages in the world.

It was time to focus on qualifying and take another step closer to solidifying my place in Formula 1. The hours flew past and I was once again back on track for Qualifying. 

The roar of the crowd and the high-pitched hum of engines were a constant in my ears as I navigated the tight curves of the Circuit of the Americas once again. I had just made it through Q1 and Q2, securing a place in the points for tomorrow's race. But right now, my mind isn't on my current position. It was locked on the next turn, the next gear shift, and the perfect balance of throttle and brakes.

The radio crackled to life as I powered through another corner. “You’re looking good out there,” Landon, my engineer, said. “Keep this pace up for your final push lap. Everyone else is finishing up.”

I barely registered his words, my focus laser-sharp as I prepared for the next sector. One more lap. One final chance to push the limits and see where I stood on the grid.

As the minutes ticked down, the track began to empty. Drivers were returning to the pit lane, their qualifying sessions over. I was the last one still out there, using every remaining second to squeeze out the fastest lap I could manage. My heart pounded in rhythm with the car, the adrenaline surging as I pushed the limits of my Aston Martin.

Through the high-speed turns and long straights, I felt the car responding perfectly to my inputs. The tires gripped the track with just the right amount of slip, the engine growling as I shifted gears at the optimal points. I couldn’t hear the crowd, couldn’t think about anything but the lap unfolding before me.

"Final sector," Landon called out. "You’re up on your last time—keep pushing."

I clenched my jaw and went all in. The car danced through the final corners, the chassis holding steady as I hit the apexes and powered onto the final straight. The speedometer climbed higher as the finish line approached.

The checkered flag waved above me as I crossed the line, the roar of the engine fading into a dull hum. I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest.

“P3!” Landon’s voice erupted through the radio, his excitement infectious. “You did it, P3! That’s your best qualifying yet—amazing job!”

“P3?” I echoed, the reality of it sinking in. “No way!”

“Yes way! Right behind Lando and Max. Fantastic work—you nailed it.”

A rush of emotion hit me, equal parts disbelief and exhilaration. I’d just qualified P3. My best starting position yet, and at my home race no less.

As I pulled back into the pit lane, I could see my team cheering in the garage, their applause and wide smiles a testament to how far we’d come together. The mechanics clapped as I climbed out of the car, and my team principal gave me a firm handshake, beaming with pride.

Before I could head to the media zone, Lando sauntered over, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. “Look who’s creeping up the grid,” he teased, leaning against my car. “You trying to give me a heart attack or what?”

“Just keeping you on your toes,” I shot back, unable to hide my grin.

Max joined us, his expression as cool and composed as ever, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “P3 at your home race. Not bad, rookie.”

“Not bad? I’d say it’s pretty damn good,” Lando chimed in, giving me a playful nudge. “But don’t get too comfortable. You’re still behind me.”

“For now,” I retorted, narrowing my eyes at him.

Max chuckled. “Alright, save the banter for the race. You both still have to deal with me.”

The three of us shared a laugh before heading off to our respective debriefs. As I walked back toward the Aston Martin garage, I felt a sense of accomplishment wash over me. Today had been a milestone, a moment that proved I belonged here.

Tomorrow will be the real test, but for now, I let myself revel in the achievement. My team had given me a competitive car, and I’d delivered. I was starting P3 at my first home Grand Prix, and I couldn’t wait to see what the race would bring.

Race day arrived, and with it, the chance to unveil the special helmet. The paddock was bustling as usual, but the moment I stepped out of the garage, there was a noticeable shift in the atmosphere.

The replica of Logan Sargeant’s helmet sat snugly on my head, the bright blue, red, and white design standing out against my dark racing suit. As I walked to the car, heads turned. Journalists leaned into one another, whispering and snapping photos.

By the time I strapped in, the buzz had reached social media.

“Looks like someone’s paying homage to Sargeant this weekend,” Landon said over the radio, a hint of pride in his voice.

The roar of engines reverberated through the paddock as I sat strapped into the cockpit, staring down the long straight of the Circuit of the Americas. My grip on the steering wheel was tight, knuckles white through my gloves. The special helmet felt snug and reassuring, a symbolic reminder of what I was fighting for today—not just a good result, but to make a mark in front of my home crowd.

"Focus up. Lights will go out in thirty," Landon’s voice crackled through my radio, steady and calm.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. When they opened again, the grid lights were counting down.

Three… two… one...

The lights went out, and the race was on.

The initial getaway was clean, but the battle for position started almost immediately. Max held P1, Lando clung to P2, and I was defending P3 from a hungry Carlos Sainz, whose Ferrari loomed large in my mirrors. My tires gripped the asphalt as I pushed through the first corner, the apex perfectly clipped as I held my ground.

“Good start. Keep it steady,” Landon encouraged as I powered down the hill, weaving slightly to break the slipstream from Carlos.

The early laps were chaotic, the midfield pack threatening to swallow me whole as they jostled for position. I kept my head down, focusing on my braking zones and throttle control. Every corner was a chess move, every straight a test of nerve.

By Lap 10, the field had begun to settle, with Max, Lando, and me forming a leading pack. My Aston Martin wasn’t quite as quick in the straights, but in the corners, it was a different story. I chipped away at the gap, forcing Lando to defend harder and harder.

Lap 20 brought new challenges as Lando, battling his own struggles with tire wear, began dropping back into our clutches. Ahead of him, Max was having uncharacteristic issues with his car's balance. The two of them were locked in a duel, their aggressive defense slowing them down.

“This is your moment,” Landon urged. “Stay patient. Opportunities are coming.”

I dug deep, closing the gap lap by lap. By Lap 25, I was right on their tails. Lando went wide through Turn 12, allowing me to sneak through into P4. Now it was Max ahead of me, his car visibly struggling through the high-speed corners. On Lap 27, I dove down the inside of Turn 1, making the move stick to claim P3.

But there was no time to celebrate—Carlos and Charles were storming forward, their Ferraris surging as they switched to fresher tires. Carlos got past Max and Lando, slotting into P2, with Charles right ahead in P1 before me.

Lap 30. Three laps to go. The pressure was immense as I started closing the gap. Carlos was fighting tooth and nail to defend, but my DRS advantage was relentless. Through Turn 8, he made his move, and I was stuck in P3.

But I wasn’t done yet.

On the penultimate lap, I used the slipstream down the back straight to overtake him, braking late into Turn 12 to hold the position. Now it was just me and Charles ahead, the gap between us shrinking as we entered the final lap.

“Last lap. You’re in striking distance. Push now!” Landon’s voice was urgent but steady.

I pushed harder than I ever had before. Through Turns 2 and 3, I inched closer, my Aston Martin gripping the track with precision. Charles was defending with everything he had, but through Turn 11, he locked up slightly, giving me the opening I needed.

I floored it down the straight, activating DRS and pulling alongside him. The two of us went wheel-to-wheel into Turn 12, neither willing to back down. I braked as late as I dared, sliding through the inside and emerging ahead.

The crowd erupted as I rounded the final corners, my heart pounding in time with the engine.

“Come on, come on…” I whispered to myself as I approached the finish line.

The checkered flag waved, and I crossed the line in P1.

“P1! YOU WON!” Landon’s shout over the radio was drowned out by my own scream of triumph. Tears pricked my eyes as I slowed the car, the enormity of the moment hitting me all at once.

I’d done it. At my home race. My first podium and race win were here now.

As I parked in Parc fermé and climbed on top of the halo, the crowd’s deafening cheers washed over me and I held my arms out in a triumphant pose. My engineer was able to run over and hand me my home flag before I moved any more. I quickly removed my  helmet, balaclava, and haans device. 

I then fixed my hair a bit before unfolding the flag to hold behind me as I screamed in excitement of my first win into the lens of a camera who came closer to fully get my celebrations. I picked up and held the Logan Sargeant helmet high, a tribute not just to him but to every American driver who had dreamed of this moment.

Walking back toward the podium staging area, I could hardly believe what had just happened. My crew’s cheers still rang in my ears, and the weight of the victory felt almost surreal. Every step felt like I was floating. But the dream-like atmosphere didn’t last long as drivers approached me one by one.

The first to congratulate me was Lando, a huge grin plastered on his face as he pulled me into a quick hug. "P1 in Texas! You absolute legend! I'm going to remind you for weeks that you beat Max and me, just so you know."

I laughed, playfully shoving him. "Go ahead, I’ll let you. I’ll still have the trophy."

Max was next, offering a rare smile of approval. "Congratulations, kiddo. You didn’t just win—you fought for it. That’s how you do it." He gave me a pat on the back, adding, "Don’t get used to it, though. I’ll be back."

As I continued walking, drivers from other teams began offering their congratulations. Logan Sargeant gave me a thumbs-up and a proud smile as I passed. Oh yeah, I had invited him as a secret guest to see his special helmet from me. We had been friends before his F1 debut. I hoped that now he was free from the stress that we could rebuild our friendship. "That helmet looked great out there," he said. "Thanks for repping us Americans." I gave him a smile before I was pulled away again.

When I turned a corner, I nearly bumped into Lewis. "Hell of a race," he said with a broad smile. "That’s what we love to see—a proper fight. Enjoy the moment; you’ve earned it." His words held the weight of someone who’d been there before, and I nodded, feeling truly seen.

But the encounter I didn’t expect came next. Standing just off to the side, arms crossed, was Fernando Alonso. The firebrand Spaniard who had never missed an opportunity to critique me in the past. My smile faltered as I approached him, unsure of what to expect.

“Alonso,” I said cautiously.

He held up a hand, cutting me off before I could say anything else. "Let me talk," he said, his tone calm but firm. "You think I hate you, don't you?" He smirked faintly, shaking his head. "I don’t. I never did."

I blinked, stunned.

"You’ve got talent," he continued. "But talent alone isn’t enough. This sport doesn’t hand out respect; you have to take it. I pushed you because I wanted you to show everyone—yourself included—that you belong here." His smirk softened into something almost like a smile. "And you just did. You proved it. To me. To them. To everyone."

My throat tightened, but I managed a small, “Thank you.”

Before I could say more, he stepped forward and pulled me into a quick, firm hug. “Congratulations,” he said simply, before stepping back and gesturing toward the podium area. “Now go enjoy your moment. You earned it.”

As I turned and walked away, his words echoed in my mind, the weight of his unexpected approval settling in my chest like a warm ember.

The podium staging area was electric. I joined Carlos and Charles, both of them already teasing me.

"Finally beating us, huh?" Carlos said with a grin. "I guess we need to step up now."

Charles chimed in, "You know, you’re making us look bad getting beat by a midfield car." He winked, nudging me.

“Guess you should’ve gone faster,” I shot back, the banter easing the last of my nerves.

When it was time to step onto the podium, the moment hit me in full force. The sea of fans was roaring, flags waving, and my name being chanted. The champagne bottles were handed out, but I couldn’t resist taking a moment with the trophy. Holding it high above my head, I laughed as I pretended to "kiss" it and do a quick victory dance that had Carlos and Charles cracking up.

Of course, the silliness didn’t last long.

“Alright, time for champagne!” Carlos declared, shaking his bottle like a madman.

Before I could even prepare myself, Charles joined him, and the two absolutely drenched me in champagne. I shrieked, laughing as I tried in vain to shield myself, the bubbly liquid soaking my race suit and hair.

“Oh, it’s on now!” I yelled, uncorking my bottle and spraying them both in retaliation. Charles slipped slightly on the wet platform, and Carlos tried to duck behind him, but neither escaped my aim.

The three of us were laughing uncontrollably as the crowd cheered, the sticky-sweet scent of champagne filling the air. For those few moments, it wasn’t about teams, rivalries, or championships. It was about pure, unfiltered joy.

As I looked out over the sea of fans and felt the champagne dripping down my face, one thought crystallized in my mind: I was exactly where I was meant to be.

But also… 

Fuck everyone who thought I couldn’t do or prove much with my limited time left in the car.

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Aurora

strategist!yunho x spy!reader

falling in love with the enemy?au

genre and warnings: some fluff, loads of angst, slow burn, suggestive, manipulation, betrayal, lies lies lies, blood and violence warnings, swearing, human lab rats, mentions of self-harm (picking at old scars), lmk if i missed sth.

word count: 26.5k

synopsis: you're finally working at halaland's most prestigious research centre as a skilled cryptographer. reality is, you're a utopian spy trained by the crescents to uncover the suspicious activity in the medical research department. to get there, you must first become a part of jeong yunho's strategy team and win his favour. however, as you both get closer, the presence of secrets burden you both and you know you're up for eventual heartbreak when you fall in love. you dread when he'll learn who you truly are.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (made sure i got my ass working on this and yeah couldn't have done this without her <3)

You didn’t know what you were expecting when you stepped within Halaland, legally, for the first time. One could argue about the legality of your admission into the country but as far as everyone was concerned, you were a Halaland native returning from Mist Island after training.  

“The wind is not different. The land is the same. I wonder why we have so many differences?” You wondered out loud and Seonghwa shot you a warning look, making the others in the car squirm.

“No matter how much this place feels like home, remember what you are here for,” Seonghwa looked at all three of you as he said. Everyone nodded in synchrony. “As of this moment… we’re strangers and I’m just the poor Mr. Park who was unfortunate enough to be collecting young female researchers from around the continent. Now… I hope you all remember who you are?”

“Aurora,” you called your new name, the way it rolled off your lips feeling foreign even to you. “For the cryptography team.”

“And the strategy team if you’re lucky,” Seonghwa reminded you of the first step towards your ultimate goal and you gulped, nodding. While he talked to Byeol and Nami, you resorted to watching the apple farm pass by as you drew closer to the Capital.

If someone had asked you a few years ago- before the war with Utopia began- what profession you saw yourself in, you’d say teaching in a breath. Teaching maths. Your original dream, before Halaland announced war on your home and snatched everything from you- family, friends, and dreams.

It was ironic that you were now in the very land you hated to the core, as their researcher. As the notorious Halazia Research Center- home to the most dangerous weapons on the continent- came into view, you couldn’t help but wow at the endless array of towers and buildings that must make up half of the Capital. It looked plain enough for the horrors it had been producing for a decade now. You straightened and put on a practised smile before you stopped at the gate for identification.

Thankfully, none of you held your breath as they went through your tags and got a good look at you. Seonghwa said a few words to the guards and then they let you through, leading the car to the Security Office.

You got off and took a quick glance around at the grey structure and the signs in their native language before greeting the middle-aged man who you very well recognised.

“Ladies, it’s a pleasure to finally have you here,” he took off his hat and tipped his head in greeting and the three of you curtsied. “I am Dr. Eric Cho, co-director of Halazia. I hope your journey wasn’t too troublesome- I understand you had to travel through land due to the circumstances…”

“Not at all,” Byeol passed her trademark gummy smile, one that charmed not only men but women as well. “I always wanted to see what Utopia looked like. I have to admit it wasn’t much.”

Dr. Cho seemed to like that attitude and he laughed out loud. “I’m sure it’s got some hidden gems too.”

“We travelled around the border so they probably don’t have much to share about the sights,” Seonghwa dug out cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to the doctor and you watched them light each other’s cigarettes, sharing a moment which made rage simmer in your throat but you tightened your smile- Seonghwa was only acting. “Shall I take them inside?”

Dr. Cho motioned for one of the officers to escort you inside the Security Office and you weren’t surprised by how thoroughly you were all checked- they didn’t spare one inch on your body, which made you feel a bit uncomfortable. When you were done and came outside, Dr. Cho scanned you.

“Are you the one who decrypted our code in the shortest time so far?”

“3 minutes and 28 seconds, Doctor,” you saluted. “Aurora Han at your service.”

“That’s a whole 2 minutes shorter than the previous record-holder,” his eyes twinkled and you passed a proud smile. “Do you know what can happen in 2 minutes?”

“The world can change in 2 seconds.”

“I like her,” Dr. Cho laughed. “Cryptography Department, is it?”

“Keep an eye on her,” Seonghwa nodded. “Puzzles are not the only thing she is good at.”

Before the doctor could ask more, Byeol and Nami were out and the five of you had lunch where the doctor briefed you about the ambitions of this research centre and what they were striving for. It was pretty well rehearsed and felt like something he had narrated multiple times so you just listened to every word and nodded like a schoolgirl. After that, you followed an officer to the Cryptography Department where you filled the paperwork so you could get a pass and start working from tomorrow.

“Shall I ask one of those guys to give you a tour of the department?” The officer asked, looking pretty tired.

“It’s alright, I’ll just find my way to the dorms, I think the fatigue is finally catching up,” you said and he bowed before leaving. You picked up your belongings and exited the office, taking a deep breath.

This was it.

After 3 years of training as a member of Crescent- a group of spies in Utopia that infiltrated into Halaland to find something, anything to win the goddamned war, you were finally here. As you walked along the corridors, peeking into the labs and memorising the path, you couldn’t help but feel both terror and a sense of accomplishment. You weren’t afraid, no. You were terrified of the fact that whatever you did here could turn the tide of the war.

You were looking at the picture of the alumni of the department, recalling their names in your head. You remembered what the Captain- the mastermind behind the Crescents- had said time and time again:

“The easiest way to get wherever you want is to get into your senior’s good graces. The easiest way to get caught, however, comes after that.”

You were staring holes at the picture of the person you wanted to approach first when someone cleared their throat behind you, making you nearly jump out of your skin.

“You seem to know them.”

You turned around with a hand on your heart, greeted by a tall figure in a uniform you very well recognised, the black outfit producing a striking contrast with the gold medals and red details. The Strategy Department.

“Of course I know them,” you managed to say as you took a careful step away. “Who doesn’t?”

He smiled, standing beside you. “Are you the new recruit?”

“I thought that was obvious,” you couldn’t help yourself and he grinned. You stifled a smile- he had quite a friendly face. “Do you work here too?”

“I work… around,” he said and you didn’t probe further. “I’m mostly on the field though. I bring data back. So… Miss?”

“Han. Han Aurora,” you told him and he nodded.

“Aurora,” he tested, a subtle raise of his brow as he scanned you and you licked your suddenly dry lips. “Do you need help finding the dorms? I reckon you’d want to get rid of your bags before you memorise every face on the frames in this hall.”

“Sadly, yes,” you replied. You could return his humour if that was what he wanted. He seemed to be pleased and offered to hold your bags but you insisted you were fine.

“Let me have my gentleman moment, please,” he laughed and you finally handed him your bags. 

“I thought you’d have quite a bit of those moments on ‘the field’,” you commented as you walked beside him. 

“Not really,” he shook his head. “I’m only a gentleman when I’m not on the field.”

You ooh-ed dramatically at that, making him grin. After walking to the third floor and taking a few turns, you finally arrived outside the rooms.

“Men on the left, women on right,” he pointed. “You could probably choose your own room there. We don’t have many women in this field.”

“Well, I’ll take my bag from here,” you smiled. “Thank you, Mr…?”

“Jeong Yunho, from the Strategy Department.”

—-------------------

The lab in the Cryptography Department was going to be your workplace and it was everything you had expected- a bit tense, occasional jokes to lighten the mood, some of them scribbling while the others typing endlessly into the computers. You weren’t surprised by the vibe.

However, you were surprised when Jeong Yunho from yesterday introduced himself as a member of the Cryptography Department.

“He’s everywhere, you’ll get used to it,” Dr. Takashi, your team leader, said dismissively.

“When you’re from the Strategy Department… you need to be everywhere,” Yunho explained with a grin.

“Sounds fun,” you made a face and began setting your things on the desk, glancing around. “So what are your contributions to the Cryptography Department, Mr. Jeong?”

“Call me Yunho,” he smiled. “I’ll admit, not much. It’s you guys who will be cracking all the codes. Meanwhile, you, Miss Aurora, will be reporting to Dr. Takashi there with all your findings at the end of the day, and if you’re good enough, who knows? You might be assigned to my team.”

“He’s just pulling your leg,” Kate, who sat nearest to your desk, rolled around in her chair and looked pointedly at Yunho. “He’s the Strategy Department’s ace. Anyone who comes under his wing either ends up losing it or begging to quit, because once you’re assigned to him? Your life gets harder.”

“Ah, is that why you’re purposely slacking off these days, Kate?” Yunho raised a brow in challenge and Kate pursed her lips guiltily.

You remembered every detail about Jeong Yunho from the files you had read on him. Skilled cryptographer though he was playing humble here, very skilled strategist and you supposed the title of ‘ace’ fit him since his contributions stretched across multiple departments, including the Medical Department- your end goal. You knew in your bones that this man was dangerous and you could not afford a single mistake around him, but the fact that he was so… relaxed? Cheerful? Quite a contrast to the otherwise tense environment in the lab.

It put you off guard, and you did not like it.

“Shall I… try then?” You asked, drawing their attention. “I’ve been told I’m not that bad a strategist.”

“Hmm, my team has grown smaller in number in the past few months,” Yunho considered. “I like that ambition. Dr. Cho had a lot to say about you, so if you prove yourself, I might personally put in a request for you to be on my team.”

“I’m suddenly not sure if I want that,” you laughed nervously and Kate snickered.

“Yunho, you’re scaring the new kid! Get out of here, it’s only her first day, don’t overwhelm her,” Kate practically pushed Yunho out of the cubicle, his laugh ringing in the lab and the others present smiling faintly as he passed by. You frowned a bit- it was only a few hours into your first day but it was already full of surprises.

The rest of the day passed by with you studying the codes that came in for the day- thankfully, Halaland hadn’t cracked Utopia’s code of communication yet. You, of course, knew exactly what it said, being one of the masterminds behind the code creation, however, you knew you were going to be treading on dangerous waters here. You remembered what the Captain had told you-

“It’s harder to pretend that you don’t know anything than to pretend you know something. So when you see our code, how will you blend in? If you don’t provide a meaningful contribution, they’re going to transfer you out of the Capital. That means you’re done for. However, if you crack the code entirely, that means you’ve studied similar codes, which means you might be acting as a spy. So what will you do?”

“Lay low for a while and then plant an idea in someone’s head,” you had replied. “When the person gets closer to cracking the code, I’ll step in and steal the spotlight. They might call me shameless for it but in the end, what will matter is that it would be me who eventually cracked the code.”

It was only a matter of ‘when’ now, and you would thankfully be getting that message through this very code soon, by the Captain himself. Before that, you were going to start putting your plan into action and build your background so that you coming to the solution wouldn’t seem out of the blue.

And that meant you had to trick the entire Cryptography Department. That was easy- they lived in their own heads.

But could you trick Jeong Yunho? 

Later in your room, you changed into your nightgown and sat at your desk, peeking out of the window to see Dr. Cho conversing with some strangers. You shut your eyes, recalling the lesson you had learnt every day for the past two years- 

“You’re my asset, Aurora,” the Captain said and your eyes widened in surprise- the man rarely ever complimented anyone on their skill, let alone call them their ‘asset’. “You’re everything I needed.”

“And what’s that?” 

“An innocent face with a deadly brain and a frozen heart,” he patted your arm, looking down at the scar that ran down from your elbow- an ugly gash that was a sign that you were a survivor. “You’d make my perfect little spy. You’re my ace, Aurora.”

You picked at the scar as you told yourself what you were here for. 

Revenge. Plain and simple. Revenge for the people you lost, the home they took from you, the families they broke. 

All hail Utopia, you whispered to yourself as you met eyes with Dr. Cho through the window.

—----------------------

You let a few uneventful days pass by before you took your first step- which was to steer your colleagues further away from cracking Utopia’s code of communication by pointing them in a similar but totally opposite direction. 

It was simple enough- creating notes from the past few attempts of the Cryptography Department, reading books and books of code and puzzles in your spare time which you would spend either in the lab or in the cafeteria, anywhere where you had eyes. You immersed yourself in codebreaking like your teammates but with your progress, you proved everyday that you were better than the others by a good margin.

It was to the point that even your colleagues like Kate, who had initially cared if you were eating well, stopped caring altogether- you could clearly handle yourself. However, as soon as they stopped, you made sure to slack on eating, to doze off while working or scratch your hair out in frustration when you came upon a dead end. That certainly prompted some of them to ask you to take a break, reminding you that a burdened mind would be no good here.

Yunho visited twice- once with confidential information that only Dr. Takashi had the privilege to hear, and the second time to ‘glance’ around, as he put it.

He fired two people that day.

You were standing by a window and recalling the events of that day when Yunho spotted you and joined.

“What are you looking at?”

“The sky’s clear,” you replied casually.

The sky is clear. No aircrafts. No smoke. No cries of the mourners filling the seemingly permanent darkness of the sky.

“I hope you weren’t too surprised by the events of that day,” he glanced at you and you wondered if he had read your mind. “You should have guessed by now that whenever I visit, I’m actually evaluating.”

“I’m… not exactly surprised, I expected that,” you laughed nervously, not meeting his eyes. “I’ve heard enough about you and your fellows from the Strategy Department. I’m just… wondering why Strategy holds the authority to do that. I thought the Head of Cryptography did that?”

“You’re right,” Yunho nodded. “But your Head of Department is far too busy for such meagre tasks. He lets us handle it. Why do you think we hold that authority?”

You looked at him this time. “Because every second is valuable, and you cannot afford to entertain people who’re not contributing?”

“Something along those lines, but to be exact, we cannot afford the people who waste our resources. We’re few in numbers but we need maximum output. And for that, we need people who do not slack, or who at least try. So my next question is, how much are you trying, Aurora?”

Your heart sank despite all the training you had done before arriving here. “I cannot be the judge of that.”

“Exactly. You said you’re not a bad strategist. I see potential in you, but so far I haven’t seen output, Aurora. So if you at least want to stay in the Cryptography Department, I’ll need to see something significant soon.”

Asshole, you thought. You cleared your throat. “I do have this notion that I'm entertaining. I won’t spill until I’m at least 51 percent sure, but I think it could turn the tide.”

“Is that so?” Yunho raised a curious brow. 

“I’m just trying my best… Sir.”

Yunho laughed heartily at your sudden use of title and you almost glared daggers at him though his hearty laugh forced your lips to curve a bit. “I’m not pulling rank on you- that was not my intention. But… you keep working on that, okay? I’d like to hear what you’re thinking, even if you’re 49 percent sure.”

With that, he walked off and you watched his tall figure until he paused and turned, catching you staring at him.

“And Aurora?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Yunho for you,” he smiled, disappearing into the shadows. You found yourself stifling a smile at the man who could be both ice cold and warm as the sun.

Who could either unintentionally push you to success in this mission or destroy you if he learned of your true identity.

—---------------------

It was your first day off since you arrived at the facility, but you weren’t going to waste it roaming around. You had a number of tasks for today and you couldn’t risk getting caught.

You woke up at the crack of dawn and went out for your usual jog but to meet Seonghwa this time and exchange information. A few days ago you hid a letter behind one of the tires of his truck and you were going to get your answer today. You spotted Seonghwa and said hi.

“I hope you’ve adjusted well,” he asked, not daring to glance around. The people here may not have their eyes everywhere but they sure had ears.

“I’m managing,” you said with a short laugh. “Did you just get back?”

“No, I’m leaving,” Seonghwa said and you nodded slowly. “I think I’ll be on the road for a while this time.”

“I see… have a safe journey, and may the fates be with you,” you said- the farewell greeting of Mist Island. “And may you not have a problem with the tires. That one looks flat.”

“Yeah, I called someone to help me out with that,” Seonghwa scratched the back of his neck tiredly. 

“Well, I’ll be resuming my jog now.”

“Go along, and good luck with whatever the hell you’re doing here,” Seonghwa laughed lightly. “If I get praised to have found you, I’ll assume you’ve succeeded.”

“Of course, I’ll make you proud,” you saluted sarcastically before going back to your jog and analysing the conversation you just had in your head.

You had talked in code- subtle hints on what to do. Seonghwa was going somewhere far but would be travelling through Utopia- the reason he said he’d be on the road for a while. You had pointed out the flat tire where you had sneaked in a note for him a few days earlier. He had answered your question- you were doing good and now you needed to play the cards right- you needed to proceed with the plan.

So later that day, you went to Dr. Takashi and asked him why everyone in the department was analysing Utopia’s code according to maths and logic, rather than language itself.

Dr. Takashi looked at you in confusion. “What exactly are you implying?”

“I’m saying,” you swallowed, pretending to gather your courage- you knew Dr. Takashi rarely bought anyone's bullshit. “Yes, codes are usually connected to maths. It’s some simple formula, some calculation. But what if Utopia’s code is a play on language itself? Utopian language? What if, for instance, this word-” you pointed at what seemed like a random scribble, “-what if this word is a made-up word from different words, or even languages?”

“I understand what you’re implying, but I’m sure someone has already entertained this possibility before you. What makes this time different?”

“If we can crack even one word…” you began. “We could decipher the entire code. We just need to focus on patterns and repetitions and check the similarities with Utopian vocabulary or other languages.”

Dr. Takashi thought for a moment, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. He looked at you for a few moments and then picked up the phone. You raised a brow in confusion, watching him click 2 for the Strategy Department.

“It’s- it’s just a possibility I was wondering we could entertain- are you gonna fire me?” 

“Relax,” Dr. Takashi chuckled and then cleared his throat when the line connected. “This is Dr. Takashi from Cryptograph. Could I have someone from Strategy? I think we might have something worth checking out.”

This time your surprise was a bit genuine- you hadn’t expected him to immediately ring the Strategy Department. You prayed Yunho would come- you had met another person from that department and he really wasn’t pleasant to be around.

But when Yunho entered, he had a knowing smile. “I knew it had something to do with the newcomer.”

“You’re quick,” Dr. Takashi commented. “You should hear her out.”

“51 percent sure?” Yunho asked and you nodded, the doctor looking between you two, lost. “Go ahead then. Surprise me.”

You showed your own framework and explained how with an approach that targeted repetitions and patterns in the Utopian language and worked on unjumbling it might work better and resultantly, shorten the workload. You explained that the focus should be on lingual patterns instead of mathematical ones. If you manage to crack some part of the code, you could at least make some sense of the whole message.

“That’s actually not such a bad idea. Why hasn't anyone entertained this possibility yet? It’s not a new approach as far as I know,” Yunho asked. 

“A similar approach was suggested by someone a few days earlier, but they weren't sure just how to implement it. Aurora here, however, seems to have built her own code as a set of guidelines. Certainly makes work easier.”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘guidelines’...” you faltered but the two weren’t impressed by your lack of confidence.

“You built this code in how many days exactly?” Yunho asked, grabbing the document and checking it out. 

“One day. 14 hours, to be exact.”

“And this is new? I haven’t seen something like this before, have you, Dr. Takashi?”

“I don’t think so either,” he peeked at the table. “I think you’re not meant to be here, Aurora.”

“What do you mean?” Your heart skipped a beat.

“I mean you should be creating instead of cracking,” Dr. Takashi was clearly impressed, glancing at Yunho as if to dare him to contradict his statement. Yunho, however, remained quiet until he had finished reading the code.

“I think I’ll have the team split into half- one of them can go with this approach while the other continue with their progress. I’ll have you manage that, Dr. Takashi. As for you, Aurora…” he glanced at you, face void of expressions. “Continue entertaining more possibilities- don’t waste time merging with a team unless you’re sure you’re onto something. And this time, I’ll have your ideas that you’re only about 40 percent sure as well.”

You nodded eagerly and he finally smiled. “Good work there.”

“Thank you,” you smiled and Yunho asked Dr. Takashi if he could have a word. You went back to your seat and watched the two talk in hushed voices, glancing at you. You pretended to get back to work, glad that you were the only one who could hear the thumping of your heart.

You’d done it. You had diverted the attention when they came close to actually cracking Utopia’s code. And you might just have landed a seat in the Strategy Department- you were pretty sure the two were discussing it, though you knew the type of person Jeong Yunho was, he would wait a good while and test you a lot more before ever giving you access to the facility’s perhaps most important department.

—-------------------

You stood outside the Medical Department- the largest building in the entire facility, and you sure felt like an outsider in front of the enormous doors. You showed the guard your permit and identification card and he let you in, handing you a pamphlet with a map and requesting that you follow the directions instead of roaming around.

You ignored that. You came to roam around. 

You stood in the hallway, a stretch of white and gold leading to glass doors on either side of you, the one on the left for emergency (ICU) and handling outdoor patients (OPD). Most of the traffic was around there, but-

The Medical Research Department was on your right, a semi-restricted area that you needed to get access to. The one the Captain told you about. Your origin as a spy and your end goal.

The war was going to turn 10 this year. Halaland’s war hadn’t always been with Utopia- in fact, Utopia had once been Halaland’s strongest ally, until some political strife that was unknown even to the most trusted agents of Utopia caused Halaland to ‘unwillingly’ turn their weapons towards Utopia- which happened about 4 years ago. 

The Captain had told you that the strife was born due to some disagreement in Medical Research. Utopia and Halaland had worked very closely there, and now it was your job now to see if it was just a coincidence that none of the Utopians made it back alive after being expelled when the two went against each other.

You wondered if the Captain was right. What could be in Medical Research? Drugs? Did they finally discover how to extend their life? Or some unexplainable discovery no one could ever begin to comprehend the notion of?

You waited until someone started going towards the right, following a middle-aged woman through the hallway until she turned towards a lab, leaving you alone in the corridor. You hid the map in your pocket and walked until you reached the sign with the layout of the building- Level 1 being the ground floor which contained labs for testing the official samples, Level 2 being the experimentation labs, and Level 3 being the restricted section. You knew all this from the information the Captain had gathered from ex-employees of this facility.

You also knew you could get access to Level 3- the restricted section- if you become a part of the strategy team. That wasn’t the end, though. Your priority was the basement that they called Level 0. The one that not even the residents of the Medical Department knew of.

The one that, if still in operation, might have something that could lead Utopia to salvation.

You heard someone come and you pretended to be lost, looking at them for help. It was a man about your age. “Looking for someone?”

“I’m wondering if I should give my blood sample here or in the OPD,” you let your voice shake nervously. 

“Cryptography Department? You must be here for your monthly exam,” he asked and you nodded. “Well, you’ll have to go to the OPD for that, but if you’re already here, I’ll save you the trip, follow me.”

You thanked him, walking a few steps behind him and he asked if you had received the map or instructions before entering. You told him it was your first month here and the guard was too busy eating snacks to provide help. The man shook his head, telling you this wasn’t the first time someone had strayed here.

After giving your blood sample, you walked back to your department slowly, calculating the outcome of each move you could make from here on. There were a number of paths the Captain had sketched for you, but he had trusted you as long as you reached your goal with minimum damage. But no matter what, you had to win Jeong Yunho’s favour and get yourself in his strategy team if you wanted to get to Level 0. 

And maybe it was time you showed Yunho just what you were made of. 

You went straight back to your lab and started working on another code-cracking framework you had been building for the last two days. Once you were done, you analysed it with a few samples of Utopia’s code.

If anyone could actually figure it out (which you were sure no one in this lab would) it could break at least half of Utopia’s code language. For days, you had built everything for this exact moment. With your heart skipping beats to the point you had to sit down and shut your eyes for a few seconds, you got up and walked to your colleague Sam.

“Can I have a moment?”

He looked up, pushing his glasses up and his tousled washed-out hair away. “Sure. What’s the matter?”

You took a seat next to him. “You specialise in the structures of codes, right? I was wondering if this framework makes any sense to you- I thought an external opinion would be good because my brain’s a mess right now and I don’t want to dump this away without being sure.”

“Ah, let me see,” Sam started going through the document and you watched him look unimpressed until you pushed at the Utopian code’s samples you had been working on, which was when he detected the pattern and looked at you in surprise.

“Where did you get this?”

“The framework? I built this-”

“No, the samples,” he began, opening his drawer and pausing to check the date on your copy of samples before rushing through his drawers, creating a mess and then asking Kate to get two copies of the samples from all the dates you had already analysed. You pretended to be nervous but you were actually sweating visibly.

“Is everything… okay?”

“Yeah- yeah, everything is okay,” he nodded, his pitch uneven. “I just need to make sure you have the right samples.”

Kate arrived, looking intrigued and you both watched Sam double-checking everything and even calling the linguist in the room. You kept scratching at the skin around your fingernails until Sam finally took off his glasses and looked at you in disbelief.

“I think you’ve done it, Aurora. We’ve never been closer to cracking the entire code.”

You almost cried out in disbelief, looking around to see the rest with genuine smiles on their faces. Sam told you to follow him to Dr. Takashi’s office where the two of you briefed him on your progress and he immediately pulled the codes that had been intercepted today and let you work on it. You decrypted about 25 percent of the code.

“It makes sense,” Dr. Takashi studied it. “Unless we’re all gaslighting ourselves to believe it does. I think we should still get Strategy to see it- if they can get this to the engineers, they might be able to feed this format into their machines, which would make decryption a matter of mere seconds. We could win this war, Aurora, because you sit holed up in a corner with those stupid gummy bears and your codes, do you understand?”

This time, your tears of happiness were real, though not for the reason they thought.

I can win this war.

“I guess it’s a battle of who falls first- Aurora’s teeth or Utopia.”

“That’s a bad joke, Sam,” you rolled your eyes, laughing. “My teeth are perfectly intact. Gummy bears are harmless.”

“Says who?”

You turned to the familiar voice- Yunho, entering and looking just as surprised to see you. “Don’t tell me you called me because someone has cavities.”

You turned to Dr. Takashi- when did he call him? Or did someone else?

“Those gummy bears might have contributed to the decryption. Take a look at this, Yunho, and tell me what you make of it.”

Yunho looked sceptical as he glanced at you before sitting down. You gulped involuntarily as he analysed the document faster than even Dr. Takashi who was supposedly the expert here. He checked the decrypted sample.

“You broke the code?” He glanced at you.

“A bit of it, it seems?” 

Yunho stared at you as if he had figured you out, scanning every bit of your face and your body language. When he finally got up, you almost sighed in relief. “I’ll get this to the Department. Aurora, follow me please.”

You gathered up the rest of the documents, arranging them as you followed Yunho who looked even taller in his uniform- perhaps he had just returned from the ‘field’. He turned as if he had felt you staring at him and smiled encouragingly, allowing you to fall in step with him.

“So what’s it about the gummy bears?”

“I may have a severe addiction, Sir.”

Yunho grinned at the way you formally put it. “And that addiction may have contributed to this outcome? If so, I might send a request to the government to send funds for… ‘snacks’.”

“Definitely,” you grinned but it fell when you felt another nervous cramp in your stomach. “Can you please tell me what to expect? I might fall down at this rate, I’m very nervous.”

“I’ll catch you if you fall,” Yunho said and your heart lurched at the way he so casually said that. “Well, Strategy is nothing like the Cryptography Department. I’m not saying your bunch is relaxed but everyone is always tense in our department. You’ll see what I mean- just try not to speak unless you’re spoken to, and try to… stick with me.”

You made an impressed face. “Thank you.”

“Thank me later,” Yunho said and you exited the building, the evening sun casting a golden glance and making Yunho’s skin glow beautifully.

“Try not to stare at anyone if you can help it,” Yunho caught you looking and you felt like you could disappear- so much for training to be subtle. Yunho always caught you looking at him and that did nothing but worsen your unnecessary want to keep looking at him.

 “I don’t stare at just anyone! What do you take me for,” you almost mumbled. “You stare more than me.”

“That’s because I’m figuring you out.”

“Who says I’m not looking at you for that reason too?” You countered.

Yunho paused, stifling his smile. “Figuring people out is a part of my job, Aurora.”

Sure is.

“Figuring people out is a part of my personality,” you simply said.

“And would you say you have me figured out? With the amount of times I’ve caught you looking at me, I bet you have…”

“Are you…” you laughed. “Trying to flirt or something? And no I haven’t figured you out, you’re a hard nut to crack.”

The sound of Yunho’s laugh warmed your heart. “That wasn’t my intention, I’m just pointing it out!”

“Sure. Your ears are very red, by the way. You might want to do something about it before we enter your department.”

Yunho shook his head in amusement. “You… you’re really something, Aurora. Before we get in there, I’m offering you something- would you like to be a part of my team?”

You raised a brow. “Just like that?”

“I think I have figured you out enough to be able to make that decision,” he got serious. “Honestly, I almost did this a few days ago when you presented that framework. I found that it made things much easier. I think with your current findings… we’ll definitely have something.”

You considered for a moment, trying to figure out what the glint in his eyes meant. Was he actually impressed? Even if he was, which you supposed everyone was at this point, he definitely had some plans for you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to join his team or someone else’s in Strategy, but goodness, was he a breath of fresh air in this land that suffocated you to the core.

“Can I tell you my answer after we’re done for the day?” You asked and he nodded earnestly, motioning for you to follow him.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the department was the noise. There were people freaking out, to put it simply. Messages exchanged across the room, people rushing around with documents in their hands, superiors barking orders- a stark contrast to the comfortable silence of Cryptography. To reel you in from that mess, Yunho put a hand on your back to guide you across the hallway, leading you to the office upstairs.

“We’re meeting the supervisor. She’ll know what to do with you, and she might offer you something better as well. I know I would too, if I was her.”

“Well, that’s certainly relaxing,” you shivered and he grinned. “Let’s get it over with.”

With a knock, Yunho entered and bowed with you following suit. “This is Aurora from the Strategy Department.”

“Ah, the one you can’t shut up about?” The supervisor said- a very elegant middle-aged woman. You turned to Yunho who was yet again blushing from his ears. “I’m Dr. Angela Choi. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine,” you said and took a seat.

“What do we have now?” Dr. Choi asked.

Yunho handed you whatever files he had and urged you to go ahead and explain. You straightened and knowing now was the time you needed to impress the Strategy Department, you fell into explaining the background of your approach first, briefing her about whatever progress you had made up until now.

“That’s certainly one way to look at it- more plausible than what we had so far,” Dr. Choi studied your framework. “I like this. Even if it doesn’t work, the approach you’re taking is fresh. Perhaps because you’re young?” She laughed.

“Come on, you’re not too old yourself,” Yunho laughed along and you could sense they were comfortable with each other. “Aurora, she’s… quick. Intelligent.”

“Yes, I think someone like her shouldn’t be hiding in Cryptography,” Dr. Choi seated back, looking relaxed. “Perhaps she should join our department. Maybe with the computer scientists? They’ve been trying endlessly to make their decryption devices more efficient. They just don’t have the right data to feed in. I’ll hand them this data- it could change the course of this war. You understand that, Aurora?”

“I do, but,” you looked around. “I expected this conversation to be more… tense.”

“I understand. I must seem very laid back, huh?” Dr. Choi smiled. “I haven’t sat in my office in ten days. I was occupied at the field, at the heart of all operations. Strategists have to be able to work well under pressure.”

“Not just the strategists…” you sighed. “It’s just very different here than in Mist Island.”

“Ah, yes, Mist Island. They were losing the war, weren’t they, until they joined us?” She asked and you nodded. “Those who have more to lose, they break under the idea itself. We have a lot to lose too, yes, but we’ve been winning this war for years now. It’s only a matter of time until it ends.”

You were genuinely impressed by her confidence, even though it disgusted you to the core how little they cared about the losing side. Dr. Choi continued. “We’ve created a somewhat relaxed and peaceful environment so our cryptographers, engineers, doctors and nurses don’t feel burdened. We give them deadlines, yes, but we, the strategists, take all of their burden. We don’t want anyone else to break under pressure or we’ll lose. So, how well can you handle pressure, Aurora?”

You looked at Yunho whose smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. You wondered why. “I can handle it well, Doctor.”

“Very well. Consider my offer but if you want to stick to your current department, that’s alright too. Mr. Jeong, if you can escort her back?”

“Yes,” he got up and bowed and you followed him outside, navigating out of the hustle until you exited the department and Yunho exhaled like he could finally breathe. 

“Care for a drink?”

“You must really want me to join your team,” you smiled and he shook his head in amusement. 

“I’m just really thirsty, but I’m also wondering what’s on your mind.”

You accepted and he took you to the cafeteria, taking the window seats. You looked at him. “Halaland must have an ace up their sleeve. I’ve seen what the losing side looks like and this is far from it.”

“Perhaps,” Yunho’s tone was cryptic. “Isn’t it good to be on the winning side?”

“That’s debatable too, but that’s also the reason I’m here,” you told him. No lies there. ��What does your team offer?”

“Field work. Assessing the situation and taking steps accordingly. Guiding the cryptographers and the other departments. We make the decisions that could save lives, but our decisions are not always in our favour. And most importantly, in war there’s sacrifice. You understand what I mean, don’t you?”

You nodded, eager. You were so close to your destination now. “I like that, but tell me… do you always scout people like this?”

That took Yunho by surprise and he laughed and you couldn’t help but join. “You’re the first. I’ve never had to practically beg someone to join my team. Usually the higher-ups make that decision for me and I only decide if I want to keep them.”

“You might change your mind later,” you shrugged.

“I won’t know until I work with you though,” he sipped his coffee, scanning you. “So? Do you like Dr. Choi’s offer more?”

“I’ll join your team,” you said and watched how he relaxed a bit. “I don’t want to be holed up with the machines. That’s not my forte.”

“Do you mind me asking… who trained you before you came here?”

Your heart skipped a beat as the face of the Captain flashed behind your eyes. But you had another name to give- another mentor who was just like you, a spy who made his place here. “Dr. Kang who, I believe, is in the Medical Research Department here?”

Yunho raised a brow at that, surprised. “Dr. Kang trained you? He must have trained you for the Strategy Department then. Why begin with Cryptography?”

“He wasn’t sure I could handle it,” you placed your cup on the table. “And he might be right. We’ve all lost something in this war, haven’t we?”

Yunho unconsciously glanced at what was visible of the scar on your arm and you caught that, tugging your sleeve down which took him out of his trance. So he had noticed. He cleared his throat, meeting eyes with you. 

“We all have,” his voice was thick with emotion and you could tell he had lost something- or someone important too. “Well, let’s hope you can show Dr. Kang that you can handle more than he thinks.”

“Do you know Dr. Kang personally?” You asked, actually curious. There was no way-

“Kang Yeosang, right?” Yunho was smiling. “He’s an old friend. He got me here.”

Your heart sank. Yunho was Kang Yeosang’s old friend? Was he also a spy then? But… there was no way you could confirm that. And if he was not a spy for Utopia…

That meant he was more dangerous than you had thought. 

“Wow… what a coincidence,” you exhaled. “Yeah, it’s been a while since I met Dr. Kang. I hope I can see him soon.”

“He’s quite busy these days. Very hard to run into him now,” Yunho finished his coffee. “But tell you what- next time I have business in Medical Research, you may tag along.”

“Sure.”

“Is there a reason you aren’t mentioning that you have medical experience as well?” Yunho asked and you sighed internally- he really was testing you at every point. You wondered why. “I mean… I looked at your resume before making the decision to offer you a spot in my team. But you haven’t told me anything about your previous experiences at all.”

“Does it matter?” You asked. “Everyone in Mist Island was trained to gain some medical experience. I don’t like to go into the details, but the one who found me insisted it be mentioned.”

“Is there a reason behind that? You don’t have to tell me exactly what, I just want to know if you’re okay with medical field work if we’re required to do so in the future.”

“Yes, there is a reason why I don’t like mentioning it,” you told him. “Dr. Kang knows my history. If you trust him… you can trust me, can’t you?”

The way Yunho did not immediately agree told you he must know something- either about you or his old friend. You cleared your throat. “I’m okay with medical field work. I’m not the best but I can certainly assess the situation and act quickly.”

“That’s good enough,” Yunho grabbed his things from the table and you started getting up as well. “I won’t pressure you to do anything you do not want to, so when I offer you an assignment, you don’t have to worry about me firing you if you do not accept it because you’re uncomfortable. I only fire people who are-”

“A burden, a waste of resources, yes, I know the drill,” you finished for him and he grinned, walking with you outside.

“Well then. Pack your stuff, and I’ll see you tomorrow in Room no. 8 of the Strategy Department. Sleep well, Aurora.”

He was about to go but you grabbed his arm lightly and he paused, turning in surprise. “I haven’t thanked you for your kind offer.”

“Thank me later,” he winked and ran off, making you wonder just how you were supposed to thank him ‘later’.

—----------------------

Yunho was nothing like the person you had come to know in the past month when he was working. If you thought you knew him, you were so wrong.

You weren’t sure what surprised you more- the switch of character or the fact that you misjudged him. Perhaps because it was your first time interacting with someone outside of work first. Perhaps you should have expected it-

No. He was different.

He was a natural leader, you were finding. He was respected and possibly even feared by the fresh recruits- your fellows from Cryptography weren’t wrong about him. He took charge of the room, barked orders, maintained punctuality down to the seconds and wanted results. Quick. And anyone who couldn’t deliver was given an earful in private.

He told you he would cut you some slack only on your first day, like he did with everyone. You were no longer ‘Yunho’ and ‘Aurora’. He was ‘Sir’ and you were ‘Miss Han’ which put a strict distance between you. He did not joke around while working at all. You learned that he was right when he said he had to be on his toes, had to make important decisions and choose what to keep and what to sacrifice. 

It had been over a week now- you had shifted your dorms, the current room giving you the view of your former workplace but blocking the sun, which you didn’t mind. It was a bit more luxurious too and gave you better room for optimisation, but you had nothing much here anyway.

The emptier the better.

Yunho was the leader of your team- Team no. 8. He reported to Dr. Choi who reported to the Head of the Department. The decision-making usually fell to the higher-ups and the team leaders, and the working dynamics were good. You wondered if that was the reason Halaland was winning.

You wondered how Utopia was handling things- you missed home. You missed the smell of citrus in the air, back before the smell of smoke and blood became a norm. You missed the constantly cloudy but blue sky before it took on an eternal darkness- you were beginning to hate the sun here. 

You missed your family who were no longer here, gone together in the dead of night, leaving you forlorn in this world. You missed the new family you had found among the Crescents- even though they insisted attachment would do you no good, the Captain himself had been like a big brother to you. Perhaps because all of you had bonded over mutual loss that you found yourselves unable to not depend on each other, not find comfort in each other. They were home, no matter where you went after that. 

You didn’t realise how long you had been standing at the end of the corridor where the dorms were, at the only window in the building that faced west towards Utopia, scratching at the scar on your arm until you felt gentle fingers lace through your hand and place them softly on the window sill. 

Again, you were surprised for many reasons as you looked up at the man who was always there when you least expected him, whose footsteps were so silent yet presence so filling, whose gaze was so warm even when he put distance between you. He stood next to you, his hands right next to yours as he looked outside.

“I’m curious what part of this view exactly is so captivating that you’ve been standing motionless for so long,” he commented, peeking out with an unimpressed face. “All I see is barren land and a boring sky.”

“That’s exactly what I needed,” you said, glad your voice didn’t crack, glancing at what you had done- you never let the scar heal. You were always picking at the long gash somewhere. A reminder, you told yourself, though you didn’t need to hurt yourself to be reminded. It already hurt enough. “I didn’t want to be distracted by a pretty view.”

“Makes sense,” he turned towards you, glancing at the bleeding scar again. “Does that hurt?”

You didn’t expect him to inquire directly about the topic you both had danced around since you met. “Not really.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” he tsk-ed. “Do you have a first-aid kit in your room?”

“No?”

“You should have,” he looked disappointed. “I’ll ask someone to give you one. If you’re going to the field, you should definitely have a kit with you at all times.”

“But I’m not… or am I?” You narrowed your eyes and he stifled a smile. 

“I thought I’d ask you how your first week had been before offering you to join me,” he put his hands in the pockets of his black slacks. “Was it too much?”

“Not at all,” you glanced down again- it was starting to sting a little especially with the blood wanting to trail down-

“This won’t do,” Yunho sighed. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“Just… stop questioning me for once and come with me,” he said and you thought you heard the tiniest bit of frustration in his voice so you followed him to the other end of the hall and realised he might be taking you to the men’s dorm. He unlocked the door to his room and you immediately felt like you were being hugged by him- the clean, almost aquatic scent of whatever product he used filled the room.

It was nice.

Yunho motioned to the couch and you glanced around before taking a seat- it looked as empty as your room, the only sign of living some clothes hanging around or food in the kitchen from where Yunho got his kit and came to sit beside you.

“I can do this-” 

“Let me,” he insisted, looking at you for permission and when you nodded, he took your arm and examined it, drawing your sleeve up hesitantly until it was above the elbow. He dipped some cotton in alcohol and cleaned it, the sting drawing your focus and when you winced, Yunho shook his head.

“You should stop picking at your scar if you want to work in the field,” he began, his voice low and thick now that he was so close. “It would be a shame if it got infected. I want my members in top condition, you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” you answered and he grinned.

“I told you, it’s just Yunho for you- when we’re not working,” he insisted and you nodded. “You can ask me now. I can see you have questions.”

“What exactly will we be doing?”

“I cannot tell you until we’re on the mission,” he finished cleaning. “But we might have to travel a bit and transfer confidential data.”

“I guess I’ll join? I have nothing better to do.”

“Ay, are you saying your time at the department is a waste?”

“I mean- yeah, I could keep working but this would be better-”

Yunho laughed, wrapping a bandage around your arm and you pouted when you realised he was back to being the goofy senior you had come to know in your duration here. “I know what you mean, you don’t have to explain yourself. You’ll learn a lot from the field but you should know that everything we see, everything we observe is strictly confidential. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I do, and that’s why I am working here,” you told him and he liked your answer.

“There,” he tied the bandage. “I don’t want to see you picking at your scar again. If you feel like doing that again… come find me and I’ll distract you, okay?”

“Come find me,” you quoted back with a scoff, surprising him. “When you’re the busiest person I know? I thought you were friendly with me just to get me on your team, and then suddenly there’s this distance between us and you’re ‘Sir’ and I’m ‘Miss Han’ and you keep ordering me around and pushing me-”

You stopped when you saw how he was smiling, head resting on his hand, elbow propped on his leg. “What?”

“Carry on,” he urged. “I’m enjoying this.”

“I’m not,” you sighed, your heart suddenly aching at the sight of him- you were getting really annoyed at the way he made you ramble and had you expecting more when in fact, you should be anywhere but here-

“Just say that you missed me, Aurora.”

“As if,” you scoffed. “Thank you for the help. I’m going,” you said and got up but he grabbed your wrist, making you sit right back and you gaped at him as he failed to hold his smile, the smile that changed his entire face and made his eyes curve-

“Well, I definitely missed this,” he said but his eyes changed as he locked them with yours. “You can find me anytime you want. If it’s too much, if anything’s bothering you, you can find me, okay? I won’t let you down.”

You raised a brow. “Do you offer this to everyone?”

“Maybe? Some of it?” He wondered out loud, indicating he might not have offered this to anyone at all, for that matter. “My point is… I know we all have scars, Aurora. Not all are physical. The physical scars? They hurt more here, don’t they?” He pointed at his heart. “You’re… a part of my team now. I want your wits gathered. I want you relaxed because you’ve seen how tense the rest of my team is. I think I can depend on you if you can depend on me- and when we go on this mission, I’d be glad if I’m right about this.”

“Just say that you missed me too,” you laughed and he joined, realising he was still holding your wrist, letting it go gently. “Okay. I’ll try to find you next time.”

“Good,” he nodded, satisfied. “...good.”

You realised he was spacing out as his eyes travelled all across your face. You stared right back- at his kind eyes, at his incredibly charming face, at the way his hair fell on his forehead and when his eyes met yours, he held your stare for a moment too long before clearing his throat.

“Well, I’ll brief you tomorrow about the mission so you still have time if you want to change your mind. Think it over tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” you finally got up, straightening your clothes. “Thank you… for everything.”

Yunho smiled at that and you left for your room, staring at the bandage until you fell asleep.

—---------------------

It was two days later that you found yourself on the road with Yunho, travelling in a military car escorted by soldiers. You two were the only ones facing each other in the backseats but Yunho was currently busy going through some documents and you recalled the conversation you just had with him in the office.

Your colleague Hani, who had field experience, had briefed you about the clauses in your contract- what to do in case you found yourself in a compromising situation or if your life was being threatened in exchange for information. You had a strict non-disclosure agreement already signed, but this was a fresh reminder that anything could go wrong. 

And that your life had little to no value so you shouldn’t bother saving yourself by exchanging information. It was like this everywhere, but since it was the enemy you were now working for, you hated the idea of even getting a scratch for them, though the Captain had told you that you would be put in such a situation eventually. Today, you were going to play your part in a rehearsed skit. And today was all about your acting skills.

You touched the locket around your neck that Yunho had given you before leaving. He caught you tugging at it and you put it inside your uniform- all black with red details like Yunho’s. He cleared his throat. “Nervous?”

“A bit, but I’m fine,” you admitted. He was probably inquiring because the locket was your death sentence- a cyanide pill you could use only if all else failed. You recalled the moment when he had secured it around your neck himself and then put his hands on your shoulders, making you lock eyes with him.

“I’ll pray you never have to resort to a situation where you have to use this,” Yunho’s voice was firm. “If you’re in pain, you live through it. Think about your family, your friends, or whoever you’re fighting for. You make it back alive no matter how hard it is, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“But,” and this time, his voice was steel and gaze so harsh that you wondered if this was the same person who told you he could ask the government to provide funds for your gummy bear addiction. “If you think of betraying your team and someone loses their life because of you? I’d rather you have eaten the pill.”

Your heart sank dangerously and you recalled when the Captain had held you just like this and told you what fate you would meet if you ever betrayed them. You nodded firmly, once. “Of course.”

Immediately, his gaze softened and he patted your arm as he let go. “I know how hard it is to make a decision, especially when they have something on you. But the enemy, no matter how appealing their offer is, you do not give in, okay? If the pain really is too much to handle… I wish you’d live through it instead of opting for this solution.”

“I understand,” you nodded, pursing your lips. “I really do.”

Now, in the car with Yunho who scanned your face as if trying to figure out just what was going through your head, you decided to ask him. “What if we lose each other in the middle of the mission?”

“Glad you asked,” he sighed. “I’ll show you the points where we can gather as soon as we’re entering the town.

And when you did, he sat next to you, pointing at 5 random points that were chosen for today’s mission. He told you their strategy was to always have new points to gather at during every mission so nobody could snitch on them. When you finally reached Sector 1, Yunho made sure your bulletproof vest was secured under your uniform and you had no bugs on you- ‘protocol’, he called it, though you made sure he saw you scowl. You stopped at an old hospital that was now abandoned and got off, the harsh sun making you flinch and immediately wear your shades.

“This hospital used to be the heart of this town, before a bomb struck here,” Yunho told you and you nodded- you recalled that. It was a few years ago when Neverland managed to strike here and you always wondered how someone could be heartless enough to target a hospital.

It made sense later- Neverland, now Utopia’s ally but earlier the enemy, probably also got a whiff of whatever the hell was going on with Halaland’s Medical Research Departments. Innocent lives were lost but you hoped at least something had come out of it.

“I always wondered why anyone would target hospitals,” Yunho said out loud as if he had read your mind.

You cleared your throat. “Halaland targeted hospitals first. I hope you haven’t forgotten your history… Sir.”

Yunho glanced at you, eyes unreadable behind the shades. “Of course I remember. That’s why I said ‘anyone’. What do you think? Why would someone target the hospitals?”

A test, perhaps. You pretended to think. “Doctors… They’re the backbone of any war, and perhaps the most precious asset especially in war.”

Yunho nodded, satisfied. “It’s a low move. I don’t support that, but like I said, sometimes when you strategise, sacrifices must be made.”

“And what came out of sacrificing doctors?”

“That’s not for just anyone to know,” Yunho pointed to the backdoor and you followed him.

“So am I ‘just anyone’?” 

“As am I,” he sighed. “I’ve only heard something did come out of it, and something valuable was lost when this hospital was targeted. Pretty sure they weren’t talking about the doctors or the patients.”

You wondered if he really did not know or was pretending. You spotted a shadow behind the door and Yunho confirmed it was the man you were supposed to meet. He led you inside and the man met both your eyes before handing Yunho an envelope- the contents inside you referred to as ‘the key’. He turned to you and you handed him your key. With a nod, you parted ways and exited the hospital.

“That’s about it,” Yunho exhaled in relief. “A simple exchange of information. No words spoken. The information is not for our eyes nor can we interpret it. We’re only couriers.”

“So was that man a spy then?” You asked. “Do you receive information from other lands?”

“I don’t know who that is,” Yunho admitted and you believed him. “But I reckon he must be. You wouldn’t make such a fuss for a local.”

You started driving back, pretending to be relieved that the mission was over when in fact, you were counting the minutes.

And then it happened- you heard the sound of a gunshot and you flinched even when you saw it coming. The soldier escorting you spoke in the radio to make sure everything was clear, but-

“We have a tail, Sir- 2 SUVs. We’re waiting for your orders.”

You looked at Yunho who dared to peek outside before calling in his radio, “Turn west. We’re taking Route no. 3. Provide cover-”

Another gunshot and this time you had to cover your ears and crouch down out of instinct as the windshield shattered. Yunho’s eyes were wide with horror as he took in the sight of the shot driver, the soldier frantically trying to steer the car while putting one hand on the wound on the driver’s chest. You straightened and looked at Yunho.

“I can either drive or provide medical attention- or fight back. What do you want me to do, Sir?”

“How good is your aim?”

You let the faintest hint of a smirk grow on your lips. “Good enough, Sir.”

With that, you dragged the driver’s body to the backseat with the soldier’s help who immediately put pressure on the wound and checked the pulse. Yunho crawled to the driving seat and you borrowed the soldier’s rifle and examined the situation- one of your escort cars was down and you only had one at your front and on your right now. 

So you waited until you sighted the tail- a black SUV. You aimed for the tires and shot once, twice, hitting the mark on your second shot which gave the escort car behind you a chance to shoot at the passengers. You broke the rest of the windshield with the butt of your rifle to clear your view, surprising Yunho, and sat on the frame to take another shot, managing to break their windshield this time. They fell back and the escort cars provided cover. The soldier honked and the three of your cars picked speed, the one behind you shooting aggressively. It seemed to have worked and you lost your tail, managing to follow the designated route.

You slid back to your seat, turning to check if you could assist in any way but it was too late- the soldier looked grim as he met eyes with you.

“He was gone within a minute.”

You bit your lips, wondering if you could have saved him had you not been selfish and hesitant about practising medical attention on people anymore. You glanced at Yunho who was clenching his jaw. With a sigh, you rested on the seat as you calmed yourself down from the adrenaline and braced yourself for whatever was about to happen next.

The drive was pretty much silent until you reached the Research Centre, a medical team ready to take the people who lost their lives in the mission. You learned that two other soldiers had died. After paying your respects, you escorted Yunho to your department where the supervisor, Dr. Choi was waiting.

“I heard it went well,” she said and you raised a brow, glancing at Yunho who appeared tense.

“We lost three soldiers today.”

“But you have the key?” She asked, referring to what you had received from the supposed-spy.

Yunho didn’t say anything, just handed the key to the doctor and she didn’t open it. She looked at you. “Report.”

You swallowed. “We had no tail until after we left the hospital. About 800 metres on Route no.1, we received the tip from Escort Car no. 3 about the tail. As soon as Mr. Jeong ordered us to embark on Route no. 3, our driver was shot and we had to improvise. The soldier with us went on to provide medical attention to him while Mr. Jeong drove and I attacked. I managed to puncture their tire and shoot through their windshield which Escort Car no. 2 informed us, helped eliminate one of the 5 passengers in the black SUV without a plate. That’s when we lost them and continued our return.”

“I see. Anything you’d like to add to that, Mr. Jeong?” 

“I’ll let you make the conclusion,” Yunho answered, looking like he could kill her. “I don’t know if it’s my position to say this but maybe you should take a look at who’s friend and who’s foe again. No one other than me knew our meeting point. Me and the person we were meeting.”

Dr. Choi shifted in her seat, looking amused. “You’re telling me that I should look into that person and you?”

Yunho shrugged. “I think you know exactly what I meant.”

You poked your tongue in your cheek as you looked back and forth between them. They were practically having a stare down and Dr. Choi finally nodded slowly. Yunho said he would take his leave now, leaving you alone with the supervisor who simply smiled.

“He gets like this when a mission doesn’t go smoothly.”

“I see,” you nodded slowly. So it had happened before. “Anything I should do, Dr. Choi?”

“Let’s see,” Dr. Choi opened the envelope and skimmed through the contents. “Not for now, no. You can take the rest of the day off. You did well.”

—-----------------------

Though your mission today had gone exactly the way you had wanted to- a successful exchange of information followed by an attack, staged by the Crescents just so you could prove you were indeed someone who could be trusted- a test, you realised now, from the Crescents as well- you still felt unsatisfied for a number of reasons.

Firstly, you had not expected the driver of your own car to get shot. You could very well have been hurt as well. You still felt guilty about not caring enough to provide medical assistance- the soldier, you were sure, only knew the basics. You could have saved him. You felt partially responsible for that loss.

You were also worried about just who in Crescents lost their lives in the mission today. You prayed it was no one you knew, but the thought that they were risking their lives like this upset you even when you had seen them go to more dangerous missions and not return. Now that you were a part of this, it stung more.

And then there was Yunho. His reaction to the dead soldier didn’t surprise you- you knew now that he was a compassionate soul no matter how stern and cold he might seem at times. But it was his behaviour with Dr. Choi that surprised you more- was it her nonchalance towards the lives lost that put him off or was it something else?

You had roamed around after getting the day off when it was already almost time for dinner. You met your teammates from Cryptography and checked their progress and they had a good laugh over how far you had come and if you’d last any longer. However, when you headed to your room, you spotted Yunho standing by the window you had met a few days earlier. Your heart tugged at the sight and you considered ignoring him and heading to your room but you wanted to know what was going through his mind right now.

You wanted to figure him out so bad that it was driving you a little crazy, and that was not good. Not in this field.

Cautiously, you walked to him and though he sensed you coming, he didn’t move until you stood next to him, hands on the sill right beside his, so near they could touch. You looked at the view.

“Not a very captivating view, is it?”

A trace of a smile danced on his lips though he maintained his composure. You stifled a sigh and dared to look at him- he looked so very tired and you wondered if he was exhausted due to the events of today or just tired of wearing his mask. Whatever it was, this was the first time you saw such emotions in his eyes.

“I know you offered to me that I could come find you whenever I felt like picking at my scar again,” you began, ignoring your subconscious that sounded a lot like the Captain cursing at you. “I thought I’d offer you the same. I should have offered it that day, but…”

“Thank you, Miss Han, but-”

“That’s Aurora for you-”

“-I’m not picking at my scars-”

“Scars of the heart,” you reminded him before he could tell you to bug off. He looked at you, hair a mess and over his eyes, still in his uniform with quite a few buttons undone and wondering just what your deal was. You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Have you had dinner yet?”

When he didn’t respond, you tsk-ed. “Do you want to have some ramen? I’ve heard I make killer ramen.”

Yunho finally gave in and scoffed, urging you to lead the way, following you to your room and you almost shut the door behind you when you realised he was still waiting outside.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“I thought you were going to take the ramen or whatever to the dining hall?”

“Just… come in. I have better snacks,” you told him.

He shook his head. “Of course you do.”

You asked him to make himself comfortable while you went into the kitchen and started cooking. Yunho took that as a sign to roam around in your space- empty walls just like his, the only sign of life the clothes on one chair-

And the unholy amount of the unhealthiest snacks he had ever seen lining the kitchen shelves. He sat on the two-seater table next to the kitchen, watching you cook. “Do you even eat normal food?”

You glared at him, not bothering to respond, focusing on the ramen while he rested his chin on his hand as he watched you until you settled down, scooping some ramen for him and cracking open two beers. You clicked your drinks and ate in silence. He was probably still sorting his thoughts, you reckoned. 

It wasn’t until he was finished, drinking his second can of beer that he finally exhaled deeply. You didn’t push, just relaxed back as you swirled your can lazily.

“Thank you for the meal, Aurora. It’s very kind of you.”

“You sound way too formal, Yunho,” you sighed.

“And you sound like me, I’m realising,” he put his head in his hands as he laughed a little. “I must have sounded like this that day, huh?”

“Now you know,” you teased.

He sighed again. “I don’t know what went wrong today. It’s happened before and I’m not even surprised,” he admitted and you nodded. “I’m just… I should have known that no one would give two shits about the lives lost today. All they care about is getting their hands on whatever information can cause the most destruction.”

“‘In war there is sacrifice’,” you quoted him and he lifted his head to look at you.

“I know. But I’m human too.”

“I understand,” you said and he wasn’t surprised at your grim tone.

There were a few moments of silence as you both sorted your thoughts out. “It’s not your fault, about the driver. You couldn’t have saved him even if you wanted to- not with that wound.”

You looked at him- how could he know just what you were feeling when he himself was a mess?

“Neither was it your fault about the events of today,” you countered. “We’re simply couriers. It’s the higher-ups who gave us the orders, knowing the risks. They should feel responsible about the loss.”

“They never do,” Yunho clenched his eyes shut as if a memory pained him. You let him have a moment and he opened his eyes, locking them with yours.

“Listen, Aurora. What happened today should not have happened, but this was your first mission. I’m proud of how you handled it.”

Your heart sank in guilt but you nodded. “Thank you.”

“I do want to keep you as my teammate, but… it’s only getting uglier as the days pass. The higher-ups have stopped caring about the lives lost as long as they get what they want. If you do not want to do this at any point, you let me know, okay? I don’t want to take you to a mission and risk losing you because you didn’t have a clear head.”

“Why can’t you do the same?” You dared to ask and he looked confused. “You could stop going to these missions too. Clearly this has happened before, and you look distraught. You could hang back too, Yunho-”

“I can’t-”

“I’m sure there are other teams that could go-”

“I really can’t,” Yunho locked eyes with you and you paused. 

He can’t? 

“Why?” You asked and when he remained silent, you knew then.

You knew that he was bound. Just like you, or maybe worse. You were bound to the Crescents and even though they had good intentions, they had promised you hell if you backed off anytime during your stay here. But what was holding Yunho back?

“Then don’t bury it in,” you countered. “I don’t want to go on another mission with you if you don't have a clear head.”

“Look at you ordering me around, Aurora.”

You matched his glare and he ended up looking down, his smile widening. You shared a chuckle as well. “I’m just looking out for myself, Sir.”

“There you go,” he scoffed in amusement. You stared at him for a few moments before you got up and started clearing the table, coming back to pick the cans but Yunho caught your wrist, folding your sleeve up to examine your scar that was still healing from all the scratching you had done before Yunho had bandaged it for you two days ago.

“This better be healed by the end of the week,” he muttered, tracing the skin near the scar from the elbow all the way down. 

“This will heal on its own,” you said. “But how do we heal the scars of our heart, Yunho?”

“I wouldn’t know that,” he barely whispered and it was the most broken you had heard him, or anyone, sound. Your heart ached deeply and with your free, now trembling hand, you touched the side of his face lightly as if to tell him that you didn’t either. That you understood it all too well. He kept staring up at you, his grip on your wrist loosening and you brought that hand up as well as you held his face, taking your time as you caressed the strands of his hair away from his face. You were positive your loud heart could be heard for miles but you didn’t care, not at that moment. 

When you were done shifting some of his hair away from his forehead, you leaned down and kissed his forehead, the first time you had kissed someone in years, the first kiss of affection after the tragic event that took your family’s life. Yunho sighed deeply and when you drew back, you rested your forehead on the top of his head for a moment.

“I know something is eating you up and making you do things you do not want to, but,” you drew back, locking eyes with him. “I want you to know that I’m with you, beside you, wherever you go from here. You’re not alone, Yunho. Don’t lose yourself. You can get through this and I’m here for you whenever you need me, understand?”

There was wonder in his eyes. Wonder and an incredible sadness. He nodded slowly and you smiled slightly, patting his cheek before turning away and picking the cans up, going to throw them in the trash can. Yunho got up, straightening his clothes.

“I- I should get back now.”

You raised a brow at the stutter and noticed his flushed cheeks and ears. “Sure. See you tomorrow.”

Yunho nodded, unmoving for a good few moments before he awkwardly turned to go and almost reached the door when he turned again.

“I might be asking too much but can I have a pack of your gummy bears? I feel like I’ll need them tonight.”

The laugh that left you came from somewhere so deeply buried that even Yunho couldn’t help but join, smiling widely at the sound that filled the room. You nodded and brought him a packet, still recovering.

“You can stop now, you know,” he said, embarrassed.

“I just,” you sighed, chuckling again. “It was so out of the blue, it caught me off guard. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t look sorry, Aurora,” he countered and you laughed a bit harder, putting a hand over your mouth as you waved at him to leave already. He thanked you before leaving, saying he wouldn’t want a madman on his team and you went to your room, your laugh fading with each passing moment until it turned into an unknown feeling so overwhelming that you sat down on the floor, burying your head between your arms and crying silent tears.

—-----------------------

Something between you and Yunho had shifted ever since that night.

You were still Mr. Jeong and Miss Han during work hours, and he was still the same strict boss of your team, however, he had a hint of affection in his eyes whenever he looked at you. Maybe it was from the shared experience from that mission. Maybe it was the way you now knew you had secrets that you kept from each other, only allowing the other to know there was, in fact, something. Maybe it was something about that night when you shared a moment of vulnerability. 

You didn’t know what exactly it was, but it was messing you up and that was not good. You remind yourself every night that you are a Crescent. You answer to the Captain. You’re on a mission, and your goal is to uncover what’s going on in the Medical Research Department through any means necessary.

Involving yourself with Yunho is only a risk, and yet… you couldn’t help but be selfish. You could justify it as a means to get to Medical Research as much as you wanted, but you knew deep down that there was another factor and you could not dismiss it. It didn’t matter, you supposed, as long as nothing was done about it, but Yunho’s words rang in your ears:

“But I’m human too.”

Those words tangled around you like a spider’s web that you couldn’t shake off. They haunted you at night when you tried to sleep. And they were following you like a shadow right now, on your way to meet Seonghwa in the darkest hour of the night, this time in the Cryptography Department’s cafeteria where you could always come up with the excuse of ‘missing the food’ if someone spotted you. 

You sat at the far end of the room, waiting for Seonghwa to come as you opened a pack of gummy bears, already plagued by the memory of Yunho- you seemed to be associating a lot with him these days. Seonghwa entered, silent as a pin and settled across from you.

“I hope you’ve been doing well,” he asked.

“Thriving, really,” you muttered and he raised a brow at that attitude. You cleared your throat.

“All well at home?” You dared to ask.

“Seems so,” he was chewing gum rather loudly. “All well at yours?”

“Seems so.”

“How long till you can get to your goal?”

“If you don’t push some strings, maybe a while,” you thought out loud.

“We don’t have the luxury of time anymore, Aurora.”

You paused. Something had happened. “Then push some strings.”

He glared at you for a few moments before sighing. “Prepare yourself. You’ll be meeting your mentor soon.”

“Got it,” you got up, ready to leave.

“And Aurora?” He called.

“Yeah?”

“Keep your distance from the enemy, will you?”

For a moment, you wanted to scratch at his face and ask him who, exactly, was the enemy here. It was the same in Utopia, the same here- the higher-ups not caring for the lives lost as long as they could get something out of it. And what were they doing to contribute to the war other than add more fuel to the flame? You were starting to question who exactly you were working for. Of course, you were ultimately doing this for Utopia, but you wanted to gut the people who sent you here too. Not the Captain, no- he only trained you. The ones who controlled him, and the ones who controlled them. 

The Captain- he only dared to question them once, and you remember seeing him at his lowest then when they took away something precious from him. You didn’t know what- you didn’t need to either. You could see it- everyone could. And it was the same here, with Yunho. He was just a puppet in this horrible, horrible game.

“I am,” you practically spat, knowing he must have spotted you hanging around with Yunho casually. “And you remember who the enemy is, will you?”

With that, you left the department, feeling like you were being choked and when you entered your department you paused-

Was someone following you?

You turned but there wasn’t a soul in sight. You didn’t dismiss it as just a feeling though. You could never be too careful around here. 

Someone had seen you come from the Cryptography Department, which meant you were being watched. You scoffed to yourself as you went inside your room and resisted the urge to peek out of your window. 

No more meetings with Seonghwa. You were on your own now.

—-------------------------

Things were getting tense at the department, to put it simply.

You were starting to wonder if it was simply because of the information you and Yunho had received that day which was somehow important enough to shift the power balance of the war, or if it was because Yunho had dared to question the higher-ups on their lack of regard for the sacrifices in this war.

You were positive it was the latter- especially with the way Yunho was starting to look so weary. Your seniors were also being harsher on your team, going as far as to cut down on your break hours. Yunho kept looking apologetic which made your suspicions stronger. Nothing seemed to cheer him up anymore.

You were staring at him from across the room, ignoring the pile of documents in front of you as you binged on your usual choice of snack, wondering if you should go ahead and ask just what was going on when a knock sounded and Dr. Choi entered, looking grim.

“Prepare for a group mission- we have to retrieve a person now, so make sure you gear up properly- 2 of you on the field while 3 of you stay back and monitor.”

Yunho looked as confused as the rest and when he got up to ask, Dr. Choi raised her hand. “I just got notified moments ago. Apparently they’re not pleased with what happened on your last mission, though I hardly believe that’s the reason. Just… get it over with and then we’ll speak.”

“Not pleased with what happened on our last mission,” Yunho repeated with a scoff. “All we did was follow orders and stick to protocol.”

You could see the slightest hint of pity in the doctor’s eyes before she sighed. “I know. I’m only obeying orders here too. You’ll be briefed on your way there. You have 20 minutes.”

With that, Dr. Choi exited and Yunho met your eyes. You pursed your lips, shrugging. It seemed like you had no choice. Stuffing the unfinished gummy bears in your pocket, you stood and went to him.

“You and me on the field. Who else are we taking?”

Yunho hesitated for a moment. “I’d rather you stick back as the monitor this time.”

You slumped, bored. “You know I can fight, Sir. Come on, make a decision.”

“I-” he hesitated again and your heart ached as he looked down. You wished you could ask him what the matter was. “I don’t want to see any of you get hurt if things go south.”

“Dr. Choi said two on the field, Yunho, in case you were thinking of going alone this time.”

Yunho raised a brow at the way you called his name and how you knew exactly what he was thinking. He gave in, nodding. “Fine, but you only cover me, okay? No offence.”

“Can’t promise, but okay,” you shrugged and he shook his head, getting up and calling Hani, Jongho and Chris- his most skilled. “You remember the drill, right?”

“Definitely,” Jongho grinned and Yunho seemed to relax a bit after seeing his teammates in better spirits than himself. He set the timer and all of you disappeared in the locker room, getting dressed in the uniform with bulletproof vests underneath. You checked your guns and were about to leave when a knock sounded on the door. You opened it expecting Hani but were surprised to see Yunho instead. 

“Done?” He asked and you nodded. “Can I come inside?”

Your heart sank and you gave him some space to enter in the relatively tiny room. Yunho wasted no time, digging into his pocket and producing a bunch of bullets and placing them in your palm. “This could get me fired or worse, but I need you to take these in case things don’t look good. Hide them on yourself.”

You raised a brow, counting them- 5. “This isn’t official,” you said and he nodded. “And what makes you think I won’t snitch right now?”

The way Yunho simply smiled- almost smirked- told you that there was a reason he needed you on his team. “You can go ahead and do that if you want to.”

Something unspoken passed between you two as you stared at each other and you finally hid the bullets in your inside pocket, making him roll his eyes in amusement before he left. For extra measure, you stocked more on the daggers before following him outside.

You learned on your way that one of the doctors from Medical Research had gone missing a few days ago and was reported to have been sighted in the west in a cabin near the enemy lines. You suspected it was the Crescents again, and to confirm your suspicions you spotted Seonghwa on your way out who saluted mockingly when he met your eyes. You had not expected it to be this soon after your previous mission and you wondered if something had truly gone wrong this time.

During the half an hour drive after which you were to travel on foot, Hani set up the radios and Jongho and Chris prepared to defend the rest in case they were attacked. This time, there were no escorts, no military cars, no soldiers- nothing that would alert the enemy. After reaching the end of the road, you and Yunho stepped out and Hani checked your equipment once again.

“If I lose your signal, I’ll assume you’re in trouble and wait exactly 2 minutes before I send one of them to inspect,” Hani said and Yunho nodded in approval. “If you lose our signal, you should proceed with the mission and come back when you’re done- if we’re under attack, you’ll know- I’ll fire a signal. In that case…”

“In that case, we’ll abort the mission,” Yunho said and Hani shook her head.

“Dr. Choi specifically asked us to retrieve the doctor at all costs. You do know what they mean by that, don’t you?”

“I don’t care what she said,” Yunho countered. “I don’t think we can make it back if you all are under attack anyway.”

Hani pursed her lips, looking at you for help. “Knock some sense into him, will you, Aurora?”

You shrugged. “If you’re under attack, I can come and help. You, Sir, can carry on with your mission- or we could switch these roles.”

Yunho sighed in disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m the one being reminded of protocol.”

Hani grinned. “We all have our times, Yunho. Now get your ass on the field, both of you. I’m starting the clock.”

You whistled at the friendly banter. Yunho checked on his weapons one last time before motioning for you to follow him and you took a moment to run your eyes over the expanse- all dead trees and barren ground. If you squinted, you could see the faint silhouette of the marked border between Utopia and Halaland, with armed officials prowling in the area.

“Aurora?”

Home. So near yet so far away.

“You coming?” Yunho asked and you realised you were still staring in the direction of your homeland. You jogged to him, matching his pace when you fell in step with him, peeking at the map in his hands.

“Are you sure you have a clear head right now, Aurora?” Yunho asked.

“Yeah, sure, I was just… admiring the scenery.”

“Admiring the scenery?” Yunho scoffed, craning his neck to see just what about the scenery was so interesting.

“I was wondering,” you changed the topic. “Why send us to the field to retrieve a doctor? Why not the soldiers?”

“Aren’t we all soldiers, fighting for something?” Yunho mused and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Okay, they usually don’t send the soldiers so the other departments don’t get a whiff of what’s going on in Medical Research.”

“What exactly is going on there?” You asked, finding Yunho with a strange, knowing expression on his face. You gulped. “I’m assuming you know if they sent you?”

“I don’t know either,” he sighed deeply. “I just know there is something. I’ve heard it could help with winning the war. Only the higher-ups know. I’m nobody.”

“Well… that certainly sounds suspicious, but then again, there’s always some secret in every department, I suppose,” you let out a short laugh and he agreed. “So they’re afraid the doctor might snitch? Will they even let him live if we manage to get him back?”

“That is… a very good question. We might be taking him to death’s door if we retrieve him,” he clicked disappointingly. “But we don’t know anything, so we can’t assume and make these decisions. I think the Strategy Department, us, we’re trusted enough to retrieve him. We have the skills, and who would we snitch to anyway? Pretty sure they’d know if there was a spy among us.”

You shrugged and Yunho pointed in the distance, spotting a couple of cabins bordering the town. “That’s our destination. You ready?”

You nodded and walked in silence the rest of the way. When you reached the first cabin, you were about to go around the structure to inspect when Yunho grabbed your wrist.

“You’re only covering, remember?” 

“That’s not how this works-”

“That’s an order,” he insisted, looking slightly amused that only confused you further and you rolled your eyes, snatching your wrist away with a pout that he chuckled at before taking the lead.

With guns out, you went around the first cabin and then inside, finding no signs of life. The second cabin was just as empty and you were inside it now, watching the third from the window when you spotted movement.

“Uh, Sir?” You called and he turned around. “I’m spotting movement in that cabin.”

Yunho urged you to follow him, asking you to go around and stand by the window so the target couldn’t escape- if it was indeed the target. You signalled your team about the cabin. Yunho motioned at you that he was going inside and you provided cover as he unlocked the door-

“No-”

You turned at the strangle of a voice that left Yunho who ran towards the man- the target- who had just swallowed something you were assuming must be a pill, and before you could help them or react, you spotted someone else in the next room and pointed your gun at them.

“Drop your weapons, right now-”

You paused when recognition flashed across the man’s face and your heart sank dangerously. Before you could signal one or the other, the man moved his aim from you to Yunho and prepared to shoot.

Maybe it was instinct or something else that possessed you to take the bullet for Yunho, you mused, as you wondered why the person you had once called friend and had trained with- spared you. Out of familiarity? Out of regard? 

Burning pain overwhelmed every other sense in your body as the bullet lodged into your arm and Yunho was quick to shoot at the man, missing by an inch but probably grazing his leg given how he seethed before hiding. You clenched your eyes shut and opened them, forcing the cloud of pain away. “Save the target, I got him-” 

“No, you’re hurt-”

“I said, save the target.”

Yunho frowned at your tone and you didn’t give him another option as you loaded your gun and started for the room the man had hid himself in- he was at a dead end- this room had no window or other means of exit. You spotted him standing in the corner, gun aimed at you.

“It’s been years-”

You shot at his leg before he could speak further, earning a howl from him. One glance at Yunho to confirm that you got this, you moved towards the man and pressed the muzzle against his forehead.

“What are you doing here? What did you do to the doctor?”

“I was saving him,” he spat on your boot and you clenched your jaw. “You know that.”

You glanced behind and got closer. “Did the Captain send you?”

The man scoffed. “And what if he did? Why are you here?”

“He got me here, in case you forgot,” you seethed. “And he got you in this mess. Remember that.”

“What are you gonna do, huh? Kill your old-”

You heard the familiar footsteps of Yunho and with your eyes closed shut as if that could undo everything you were about to do, you shot your old friend, his body going limp and falling with a thud against the wall. You finally opened your eyes, bending down to shut his eyes with trembling hands.

The footsteps grew closer and you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. You didn’t care at that moment. You turned to him and said, “Call the team, please. I’ll stay here.”

Yunho nodded, giving you space and leaving the room. With glazed eyes, you placed a hand on your old friend’s cheek, noticing a silver glint around his neck and you dug out what was a necklace with his code name carved on it- KB. You smiled at that, recalling when he had showed you the necklace a few years ago, very proud of it. You searched his pockets but found nothing significant so you just slumped next to him, ignoring the pain in your arm until Yunho came again, having alerted the team.

With his dagger, he cut a piece of his shirt and tied it around your arm where you were still bleeding out. You only stared into the distance, your ears ringing with the sound of the gunshots. When he was done, he patted your arm again.

“Come on, they’re here.”

With a deep sigh, you got up and exited the room, noticing the doctor with foam around his mouth. “Cyanide pill?”

“Seems so,” he said. “I’ll tell you the details later, okay? You should get treated first.”

“Just tell me this was not a waste,” you turned to him, lips quivering. “Tell me all of this was not a waste.”

Pain flashed across his eyes but he nodded. “It was not, trust me. I cannot tell you right now,” he glanced behind him at his team approaching them and you understood. “But I have something. And it’s not for the higher-ups to hear. You understand?”

Somehow, the cloud of pain cleared then. You understood. You looked back at the doctor. “Mind if I check something?”

“Go ahead,” he said and you checked his neck for something similar to a chain. Yunho coughed and you looked at him- he patted his pocket in answer. You nodded and proceeded to check the room, taking anything you thought would prove significant while Jongho and Chris packed the bodies and loaded them in the car- protocol. Proof that you were not lying, though you were pretty sure one of them directly answered the higher-ups and it was not Yunho, which meant-

You almost ran outside and looked into the distance, running your eyes across the expanse and it was then you spotted the tiniest movement in the cabin in front of you.

Eyes. They had eyes and ears everywhere. Both the Crescents and Halaland’s own spies. The question though, was…

Just who had watched everything that had just happened?

—------------------------

You had a few scenarios of how you could get into the Medical Department- either infiltrate with your ‘spy skills’ and risk getting caught, or have Seonghwa pull some strings so you could go for something like an ‘inspection’, or the personal favourite- attack. 

However, you never thought you’d get access simply because you got shot during a mission. 

It was surprising because every department did have their own little emergency room with the basic first aid stuff. It was probably because you had to report, and what place better to report the death of the doctor than the very department he worked in?

“Let her get treated first,” Yunho insisted, “And then we’ll report.”

“We don’t have time to spare, Mr… Jeong, is it?” The middle-aged man with an arrogant look that had to be his staple shrugged. “Besides, it looks like a simple gunshot wound.”

You could feel that Yunho was mentally and physically reaching his limit as he tried to reason with who you recognised was the supervisor of the Medical Research Department- both the restricted and the secret one, the restricted being his cover for the public. You cleared your throat, wanting to get this over with. “I think we can report first- I can hold on for a while-”

“No,” Yunho said with a tone of finality and glared at you first before glaring at the supervisor. “My partner will be treated first and foremost. You, of all people, Dr. Kim, should understand that.”

Dr. Kim groaned before ordering the staff to escort you to the treatment room. You got stitched up after being administered painkillers and you had to stuff a few gummy bears in your mouth for the instant sugar rush or else you were positive you would have fainted. You were just being administered another IV when you heard a very familiar voice. 

“I got this from here, thank you.”

You watched the nurses leave and a familiar blonde come closer, checking on your IV. You almost gasped and he stifled his smile as he checked your vitals. 

“Not how I expected to see you but oh well,” he whispered and you grinned. 

“Not how I planned to get here either,” you said. “It’s so good to see you, Yeosang.”

“Likewise, Aurora,” he smiled before glancing around. “Tell me what happened.”

You briefed him as quickly as you could, handing him the necklace that belonged to KB. He nodded grimly and when you told him about spotting someone who must have been watching you, he nodded in confirmation.

“It’s been a while since Yunho fell out of their good graces. I bet they’re making sure he doesn’t make more mistakes.”

“What did he do?” You asked.

“He tried digging into the secrets of the Research Department after the Utopians were expelled from this centre,” he revealed and you were genuinely impressed and confused. “He had many Utopian friends and some of them disappeared without a trace.”

“Are they messing him up on purpose?” You dared to ask. “First the attack on our previous mission, and now this…”

“That’s not how they mess you up,” Yeosang tsk-ed. “That’s just misfortune. Anyways, your report better match Yunho’s or you’ll be the one who might become their target. And Aurora?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay safe. Remember your motive. Don’t trust the enemy. And… we don’t have much time. You barely have a week before we sign Utopia for a loss it will never recover from.”

Your heart sank yet again and you nodded furiously, understanding the gravity of the situation now that you heard it from someone who worked in the secret lab himself. He was about to leave when you called him and mouthed ‘stay safe’. 

Thankfully, Yunho gave his report in front of your team and all you had to do was follow up with your story, omitting the part where you knew the identity of the man you killed. After signing a few documents, you were allowed to leave and Yunho said he had someone to meet, asking Hani to make sure you go right to your room and rest.

Hani did just that, going as far as to help you take off your clothes so you could wash up while she cooked you some ramen, commenting on the lack of your healthy food choices. You smiled- she was such a mother not just to you but to everyone in your team. She did leave when dinner was ready and you had time to sort your thoughts out, enough time to recall what happened today.

You took a bullet for the enemy.

Could you call Yunho ‘the enemy’? Yunho, the person who cared with all his heart, the person who did serve the enemy, the one who would have taken a bullet for you too just because that is who he was. And Yeosang’s revelations had only confused you further about him- you should have just asked him if Yunho was the enemy.

But perhaps, he was just as confused as you were. Yunho had dared to dig into something so big. What stopped him? You understood that he was brilliant and after losing so many skilled Utopians, they couldn’t afford losing their own. But… what, exactly, made him stop? What did they have over him that was eating him alive because he could do nothing about it? The fact that these unsuccessful missions were simply misfortune (though one was staged) meant that they had something else over Yunho.

What could it be? A secret? Blackmail? Family?

You shut your eyes as you tried recalling his file that you had memorised, just like every other file on the employees of this department-

A knock sounded and you opened your eyes, wondering if your ears were still ringing. But when another knock sounded, this time louder, you got up and hesitantly opened the door-

To reveal Yunho. 

“You look like a mess… Sir,” you scanned him- messy hair, buttons undone, uniform torn from where he had cut it earlier for you, smudges of dirt and possibly blood on his exposed skin. “What brings you here?”

“Just wanted to make sure Hani didn’t kill you on her way here,” he scoffed. “Can I… come in?”

You nodded and he stepped in, awkwardly glancing around and you urged him to take a seat. You offered him dinner but he refused and you wondered if you could insist but handed him a chocolate bar instead and he accepted it, asking you just what happened during the mission.

“I found these,” you put your hand under the sofa and extracted a few pages. “Not sure what they mean but they might make sense to you.”

Yunho finished eating and examined the papers. “Medical terms I’m not quite familiar with. What do you reckon they say?”

“I don’t know, all these terms seem foreign to me,” you admitted- it wasn’t the entire truth. “You have someone who could translate it for us?”

“I’ll think about it. Shall I take these then?”

“Go ahead,” you said and he folded them neatly before putting them in his pocket. “Did the doctor say something before he… died?”

Yunho sighed deeply, rubbing his face. “I asked him why he gave up on his life at the sight of me. It’s my uniform- he recognised it. He only said that he did not want to go back and that he would prefer death.”

“‘Prefer death’,” you repeated. “That’s… something must have happened?”

“Yeah, I don’t know anymore,” Yunho slumped back. “I’m not sure I can investigate either.”

“Why?” You dared ask.

Yunho looked at you. “Do you have something to lose, Aurora?” You shook your head and he smiled. “Then you are very lucky.”

“What will you lose?” Your voice was almost a whisper and he looked down.

“Four years ago when we declared war on Utopia,” he began, “I lost a lot of friends. Some moved. Some went missing. When I tried tracing them, I always found myself at the Medical Research Department. I asked myself- why would someone missing be there when they didn’t have any relationship with the Medical Department whatsoever?”

“Oh, goodness,” you sighed and he nodded.

“I still don’t know why exactly- what exactly is going down there. I don’t know who to trust. When they realised I was digging in, they drafted my brother into the army so they could hold that over me. And after the previous mission, they threatened to place him within the enemy lines, where the war and the bloodshed is the thickest. I suppose they’ll do that now.”

“That’s… inhumane,” you breathed. No matter if Yunho was the enemy, that was still inhumane- to hold family against you. “They’re controlling you.”

“They’re controlling everyone here,” Yunho scoffed. “You cannot trust anyone.”

You raised a brow and he looked at you as if having realised just what he said. He locked eyes with you until you asked the inevitable.

“Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know, Aurora,” his voice was low and he shifted towards you. “You clearly have secrets you keep to yourself. I don’t know why I’m here- maybe I’ve doomed myself tonight.”

His eyes were expectant and they tugged at your heart with their warmth and vulnerability and… trust. Trust without knowing who exactly you were.

And you realised how deeply done you were for him when you found yourself saying, “I trust you. With all of my heart.”

Yunho blinked as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Stomach in knots, you leaned forward a bit as you locked eyes with him. “I trust your judgement. I trust your motives, and I wish I could share your burden because I do not like to see you like this. I wish I could be your strength… if you’d allow me to. And I have nothing to lose anyway. I could do this for you-”

Perhaps you had signed yourself for your doom, you wondered, as Yunho grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you, bringing you in for a kiss so urgent as if you were on stolen time. Stomach in pleasurable knots, you leaned forward into the kiss, running your hands through his hair and pushing them away as you kissed him better, tasting the longing and pain in the way his hands cupped your face so delicately, in the way they later traced the outlines of your body-

And made you hiss in pain when they accidentally touched the bandaged spot on your arm. Yunho immediately drew back with concern on his face and you laughed a little when he examined it.

“I’m okay, just… it took me more by surprise, I guess.”

Yunho licked his lips, eyes falling to yours as he caught his breath. He forced himself to look at you. “You shouldn’t have taken the bullet for me, Aurora. Do you know how much it pains me?”

“I know you would have done the same,” you said and he looked away as if he did not want to believe that. “I’m fine. I know what I was doing.”

“I’m sorry-” 

“No,” you cupped his face this time, caressing it lovingly- you couldn’t bear the look in his eyes. “I would do that for you again,” you pecked his lips. “And again,” you kissed his cheek, trailing your lips up the side to plant another kiss on his temple. “And again,” you joined your forehead with his, his large hands going to hold your waist, making you feel so very safe as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, out of breath. You let him have his moment, caressing his head.

“What are we going to do, Aurora?”

“We’ll figure it out,” you kissed his head and he looked up at you. “I’ll make sure those bastards pay for what they did to you, you hear me? That’s a promise, Yunho. And I keep my promises.”

You sealed that promise with a kiss, so slow and sensual this time that it had you both wanting more. You unbuttoned Yunho’s uniform and tossed it on the floor, leaving him in a half-sleeve fitted shirt- oh, how beautiful he was. You traced his shoulders down to his arms and he snaked his hands up your waist, the sensation of his cold hands over your bare skin making you squirm a little which made him laugh, and then he was pulling you in for another kiss, this time as heated as it could be, tongues colliding and bodies rocking against each other in a rhythm that made you one.

You kissed each other for the longest time, affirmations and promises exchanged and then you lay in his arms, tired. You traced the multiple scars on his bare upper body, limbs tangled and breaths mingling as he fell asleep and you stifled in your tears, because-

Because this was love, in its pure and raw form. It took you so long to get here but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else. You wondered if all that happened was so that you could be right here, in this moment, feeling so complete-

But still, with the guilt of the lies you had said, with the secrets you kept. He was going to find out, and he would hate you, perhaps with all of his heart. But…

You’d keep your promise.

You were going to make Halaland pay for not only what they did to your homeland but what they did to their own. How they broke their own.

You chanted it to yourself along with the beat of Yunho’s heart.

—-------------------

Yunho was right about his brother being drafted to the enemy lines this time. He hated that he was right, but he could do nothing about it-

Or so he thought, because something had indefinitely snapped inside of you. Your hatred for Halaland was not only because of the fact that they took away your home and family, but because they took away the families of the ones who laid their lives for the cause. What for, you wondered? Halaland couldn’t even protect its own. So now, you were hell-bent on doing something about it. 

Each day, you pretended to be serving Halaland with utmost sincerity, urging Yunho to put on the same act. He tried his best and you prayed that it would mislead the superiors and whoever was watching. Every other night, you and Yunho gathered in either of your rooms to discuss whatever you found during the day- stealing from the database (Yunho was quite skilled) or picking information spontaneously (your forte). You’d match your findings but-

Whatever was going on in Medical Research was very, very serious if it was kept this confidential. You always found yourselves at a dead end- anyone you could contact was either still an employee or wiped off the map without a trace. 

So each night, you held Yunho in your arms and assured him that you would make it right for him. You caressed his face and kissed his head in promise, and each night he would ask you why you were doing this for him, just like he asked you tonight.

“Call me ungrateful but I don’t understand why you’re doing this for me, Aurora,” he was tracing the outlines of your face with one finger while you rested in his lap with a thick bundle of files you had been going through since the evening- the information of all the Utopian employees in the Medical Department. “I’d really like to know what the other reason is. You can’t simply be doing this for me.”

“What do you think it is?” You asked absently, reading the data of the person Yunho had pointed out earlier- Song Mingi. One of his oldest friends here who used to oversee some business in Medical Research before he went missing without a trace. The one, Yunho had told you, who made him embark on this journey.

“I don’t know,” Yunho’s arm was a comfortable weight around you and his lips on the bare skin of your neck were welcome. “I’m not sure I want to find out.”

“You’re pretty insistent for someone who doesn’t want to find out,” you mumbled, frowning as you read Song’s supervisor’s name- Dr. Kim- the same doctor who took your reports in your previous missions. “Is it strange that every missing person is somehow connected to Dr. Kim of Research?”

Yunho stopped nuzzling into your neck to look at you and think. “He is the supervisor.”

“That file over there,” you pointed at a file on the floor. “It said that Dr. Kim became the supervisor after every Utopian was expelled. A promotion at such a sensitive time is rather strange, don’t you think, given how ‘saddened’ you all must have been having lost a valuable ally in the war.”

Yunho shifted under you, making you face him, limbs still tangled. “You’re saying the feud must have begun due to something that happened in Medical Research, right?”

“It’s a possibility we should consider,” you planted the seed, knowing very well that it was a fact. “The timing of it all is strange. Do you think we can have someone confirm this fact? Or at least give us a hint?”

“I could ask Dr. Kang, but I’m not sure where his loyalty stands now,” he faltered.

“I mean… if they still haven’t erased him off the map, probably with Halaland?” You said and Yunho chuckled.

“Not that part. We’re all answering to someone. I don’t know if he’s answering to the right person.”

“I think we can trust him,” you offered. “When he trained me, he always insisted I put my ‘moral values’ before any order, no matter who it came from. It always stuck with me.”

“I can see that,” Yunho smiled, caressing the nape of your neck. “It’s probably why I’m here too. You don’t give a shit about rules, do you?”

You shrugged and smiled when he looked a little proud. “I could say the same for you. Do you know how dangerous it is to dig into information again? Haven’t you learned anything from the last time you did it?”

“I can’t let you carry this burden alone, can I?” He asked and you pouted because you’ve had this conversation with him just about a dozen times and he always insisted he do the dirty work and risk getting caught even when he was the one who had something to lose now. Yunho pecked at your pouted lips. “I want you to come with me when I meet Dr. Kang. He could be of help, and if he’s not…”

“If he’s not, all you have to do is say the word and he won’t breathe any part of it to anyone else,” you promised, heart dipping with the lie and he chuckled at your confidence before he kissed you.

His kisses, you were finding, could be soft like feathers when he wanted them to be. And right now, that was it. And these moments always put some hesitancy when you tried returning the sentiments because with each night you spent together like this, you were certain you could never bear being apart from him, never bear if he ever looked at you with hatred in his eyes- when he would eventually find out the truth.

Yunho’s hand cupped your face and tilted it, his hold tighter near your neck. You kissed back, but-

“Why do I always feel like something is holding you back when you’re with me, Aurora?”

You bit your lips as you drew away, finding it incredibly hard to open your eyes and face him but you did.

“The only reason I hold back,” you told him, shifting in his lap so you could face him, “is because I am so, so afraid of losing you, Yunho. I’m so afraid that you’ll hate me one day.”

 “I could never hate you,” his grip on your waist tightened and you looked down, not wanting him to see how vulnerable you were right now. If he pushed the right button, you would spill everything-

“Look at me, Aurora.”

You did and you couldn’t take the look in his eyes- you physically couldn’t, not when you wanted to tell him so much and risk wasting everything you’d built so far, so you kissed his lips with an urgency that told him to shut up for now and just kiss you back and make you feel good, and oh, did he return the sentiment.

“Don’t look at me like that again if you don’t want me to break,” you whispered in his ear.

“What about me, huh?” He stifled a pleasured groan when you rolled your hips on his lap. “Do you want to watch me break?”

You drew away and smiled and Yunho thought it was the most sadistic smile he had ever seen on anyone and it turned him on so bad. He picked you up effortlessly as he stood, making you scream a little and wrap your arms around his neck so you wouldn’t fall, laughing into his shoulder as he placed you on the table, hands on your thighs spreading them apart so he could fit between them as he looked down at you.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he said and then he was bringing you flush to his body and kissing you, rolling his hips along yours as you wrapped your legs around him. He wasted no time turning the kiss as heated and frantic as the movements of your body, his hands in your hair and one still on your thigh, thumb playing with the waistband of your shorts. You were lazily running your hands along his upper body and it was driving him crazy-

“Isn’t it about time we take it to bed?” You offered, looking at the clock. “It’s way past your bedtime, Yunho.”

He didn’t miss the suggestive glance and with another sensual kiss where he pulled at your lip, sending butterflies in your stomach, he let his fingers graze dangerously close to the skin between your thighs.

“Not before I have a taste of you right here.”

You shut your eyes in pleasure as warmth coursed through you at those words and you became lost in the bliss as he started trailing his lips down your body. 

Taking it to bed could definitely wait.

—-----------------------

It took you both a few days to perfect the plan to meet Dr. Kang, and you were now wondering if Yunho was turning into you as he started setting the stage so the act could play out effortlessly, so that someone would come and tell him to go to Medical Research for some dealings or strategic planning. And you wondered why Yunho hadn’t done it earlier- he was so good at it that you were a little scared and had started to wonder if he wasn’t who he pretended to be.

Yunho laughed when you asked him that during your break when you two were alone in the cafeteria. “I obviously needed a partner, right?”

You shrugged, not buying it. “You’re doing just fine by yourself. I haven’t done anything.”

“You, Aurora, pointed me in the right direction,” he told you and you looked at him. “I’m simply preparing a ride so we can go there.”

And the ride was arranged in the matter of a few days when Dr. Choi herself assigned you and Yunho, the most skilled strategists in the department, to help sketch plans for the future course of the war and Halaland’s stance. Yunho asked Dr. Choi why they were doing the planning in the Medical Department- was it to plan the placement of medical camps? Dr. Choi answered that she believed so, but even she sounded unconvinced. So, together with Yunho, you were finally going to the Medical Research Department officially. 

What you hadn’t expected was to be escorted to a storage room at the end of the Medical Research section and to be confronted by the same Dr. Kim who was pretty much in your blacklist now. 

“Your seniors swear you’re the smartest of the bunch so I’m going to trust them and have you sign this non-disclosure agreement,” he began, keeping it simple. You and Yunho met eyes in confusion. “I’ll tell you the details after you have signed.”

When Yunho didn’t move, Dr. Kim scoffed. “Your old friend Kang swears you’re the best strategists, both of you, so I took his word for it. Want me to call him?”

“No, I think we’re good,” Yunho said. “I just need to look at the clauses before I sign. Can I have a moment?”

“Sure,” Dr. Kim relaxed back in his seat and Yunho tapped at your arm in question. You nodded- if Yeosang had really been the one who pulled the strings, you weren’t going to complain. In fact, even if he wasn’t, this was your chance to see just what was cooking here. Yunho seemed to understand that and you both read through the terms and signed.

“Very well,” Dr. Kim got up, taking the documents. “You’re being led to Level 0 of Medical Research- the lab only the selected few know about.” 

Your heart sank in nervousness- this was it. Dr. Kim led you to the stairs and continued. “We’ve recently made a breakthrough and we think it’s about time that we get some input from the strategists. The war could end within days now, do you understand?”

Yunho looked as surprised as you had expected. Dr. Kim unlocked the door and immediately, you were hit with the stench of strong chemicals and cleaning alcohol. Dr. Kim asked you two to wait while he went inside a lab and you turned to Yunho.

“Listen to me- no matter what you see today, you do not react, understand?” You said, realising fully well that you were risking your identity. “Even if you see a familiar face or something inhumane, you play along and make the decisions they would like to hear. You cannot play the hero right now, okay?”

Yunho looked genuinely confused now but he understood that there was a high chance something immoral was going on here. “I’ll try.”

“You will, for your brother,” you whispered. “And I will too. For you.”

He squeezed your hand in assurance and before he could say anything else, Dr. Kim was back. “Follow me.”

—--------------------------

You two had just gotten back to your room from Level 0 of Medical Research, and you were staring at the walls as you tried to make sense of the horrors you had seen.

You were pretty sure it was as much of a blur to Yunho as it was for you- if you tried replaying it in your head, you recalled going inside and Dr. Kim explaining the background of how they got here, but then he led you inside and showed you-

A human experiment.

A man not much older than you, tied to the bed with steel chains as if he could break them apart. What was more surprising was that Dr. Kim confirmed he very well could. He was in a confined space and you watched through the glass.

“This seems to be our first successful prototype. Since a decade, we have been playing with the idea of a specialised human army- better strength, better skills. Quicker reflexes and better impulses. Utopia was our ally back then, and we usually discussed it as a fantasy until one of our doctors made a breakthrough in his research and created a drug he thought could do something similar.”

“So Utopia is doing the same as us?” You had asked casually, putting a hand on Yunho’s back and caressing once to assure him you were playing along.

“The whole reason Utopia and Halaland fell apart was disagreement on this- they have better morals, I’ll give them that,” Dr. Kim chuckled loudly and Yunho seemed visibly uncomfortable but passed a weak smile. “They changed sides. We continued to test our drugs, but we fell back- most of our skilled doctors had been Utopian. We lost many, hence the slow progress.”

“But now- you seem to have succeeded?” Yunho said.

“We’ve almost finished the testing period with this one,” he motioned at the man who seemed to be sleeping right now, looking very normal. “If the trial is successful, we’ll use the drug for others.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Yunho cleared his throat. “Where or who exactly are the others?”

Everything after that was a blur- Dr. Kim had revealed that there were only a few volunteers for this programme right now but they had a few Utopian employees and soldiers they had detained over the past few years. He had asked for strategic advice and you had set the trap for him- if, in case you lost the mission to expose them and they went ahead with their human army, you wanted them at the western front first- you knew Utopia would have something up their sleeve too- but Utopia would never stoop so low. 

Yunho had done his best to play along. You two spent a few hours in that department, even met Dr. Kang who Dr. Kim claimed was one of the researchers for this programme and when you finally got to leave, Yunho followed you to your room.

You turned to him, still not believing what you had seen. “Is this real?”

“I don’t know anymore,” Yunho took a deep breath, hiding his face in his hands. “I’m surprised I didn’t throw up at Dr. Kim’s feet.”

“Glad you didn’t,” you muttered. “What are we going to do, Yunho?”

“I honestly don’t know anymore, Aurora. I now know why my brother is fighting at the enemy lines- so I have no choice but to participate in this… massacre. Massacre of lives is what this is, Aurora. It disgusts me how they’re handling humans there- aren’t they humans themselves?”

“They’re not,” you almost whispered. 

“I don’t know how many unfortunate souls have been wasted because the trial failed. That drug is basically a human-control drug. It could cause so much destruction in the war. What’s the point of winning now, though?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “I understand now, why the doctor we went to retrieve didn’t want to go back- death is a better option than becoming a human lab rat.”

“Can’t we expose them?” You wondered out loud. “I don’t know- even to the enemy?” You looked at Yunho but the guarded look in his eyes- he had to think of his brother too. “I could do that, Yunho. I have nothing to lose- you can play along while I expose them and end this inhumanity-”

“You won’t do it alone,” Yunho shook his head furiously. “I won’t let you do it alone.”

“You have your brother, Yunho-”

“And you,” he turned to you and you almost cried, overwhelmed. “I can’t risk losing you too.”

“And I can’t risk losing you, either, please,” you joined your hands and rested your forehead against them. “Please let me do it alone.”

“What are you not telling me, Aurora?”

You looked at him, finding a knowing look in his eyes. You shook your head and he sighed. “You still can’t tell me?”

“Not yet,” you finally muttered and he nodded, planting a kiss on your forehead and you let the tears fall, realising this might be the last moment Yunho would look at you with such love. 

“Why do you cry, love?”

You only hid your face in his lap and he held you as you cried silent tears, caressing your head through it all. When you stopped, he made you look at him as he wiped your face.

“I don’t know why you don’t believe me, I don’t know what you’ve done or at this point, who you are, but I know you’re not as bad as you make yourself to be,” he had the gentlest smile on his face as he ran a thumb over your lips, locking eyes with you. “And I could never hate you, because you’ve saved me so many times now. You don’t even know how.”

“I’m sorry,” you almost whispered and he shook his head, leaning in to kiss you deeply and you responded eagerly. When he broke back, he joined his forehead with yours. 

“No matter where we go from here, I love you, Aurora. That’s the reason why I won’t let you do this alone, and I would hate it if you put yourself in a situation where you get hurt and I lose you forever, do you understand?”

You smiled at that, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him good and tight. “And I love you, Yunho. That is why I’ll still insist that I have to do it alone- because I can’t bear to lose more people.”

“This argument will never end at this rate,” Yunho laughed as he rocked you back and forth. You drew back, pushing his hair away.”

“I know one way it will,” you suggested and he immediately understood, attacking you with an urgent kiss, making you arch into it and soon, he was on top of you on the couch, taking off layer after layer of your clothes, of the mask you wore around him, until you were bare. Until you wished he would call your real name when he kissed every inch of your body and murmured sweet nothings. Until you broke in every way possible, wondering how you could ever recover from this.

You had to do this alone.

—---------------------------

“You’re always alone. And you always will be.”

When the Captain had said those words, you had wanted to tell him he was wrong. Yes, that was the loneliest period of your life, but even then you had a few people who were with you. You had simply nodded and let him believe his words were wrapping around your heart.

However, now that Yunho held Kang Yeosang at gunpoint and looked at you with absolute hatred in his eyes, you couldn’t help but think back to that moment. You could practically feel the Captain’s hands on your shoulders as he whispered it in your ears-

“You’re always alone. And you always will be.”

Before you knew it, you were pointing a gun at Yunho’s head too and Yeosang stopped struggling in his grasp as he looked at you in surprise.

“We don’t have to do this, Yunho,” you said and even though your tone was harsh, your voice still quivered a bit.

“We really don’t, Aurora,” he said, tightening his hold on Yeosang. “I don’t know who you are anymore or why you’re doing this, but I can’t let you take these people.”

Everything had gone horribly wrong tonight. Seonghwa had provided you with the big plan- a distraction that would give you and him enough time to vacate Level 0 with the people trapped in there. Yeosang and Dr. Seo Yuna- a Halaland native who strongly opposed the idea of human experiments- were on duty tonight so all they had to do was sneak you in and show you the emergency exit. It led to a restricted parking area where Seonghwa would be waiting with an ambulance-

An ambulance because the Medical Department would be set on fire tonight. Dr. Kang and Dr. Seo were trained just like the other doctors in Level 0 on the evacuation process in case of an emergency. What the higher-ups wouldn’t expect would be everyone in Level 0 disappearing without a trace. Level 0 and all its data would turn to ashes tonight.

The plan was seamless, however, Yunho’s presence was something you didn’t expect and it caught you off guard when he arrived at the basement. He spotted you transferring his old friend, Song Mingi, on a stretcher and ran towards him, making you freeze momentarily as he examined his state.

“What happened?” Yunho asked you.

“Do you… recognise him?” You were going to play dumb for as long as you could. 

“That’s Mingi- my old friend,” he sounded broken as he brushed the hair off Mingi’s face, finding him all ragged and pale. “What are you doing here, Aurora?”

You glanced around- Dr. Kang and Dr. Seo were not present. You turned to Yunho. “You can’t be here- I was assigned to help evacuate the members of Level 0 because of the fire. Nobody assigned you, as far as I know.”

“And who assigned you?” His gaze was hard and you bit your lips, about to make up an answer when you heard footsteps behind you and saw Yeosang appear from the tunnel, look at you both and take out his gun to point at Yunho, who scoffed in disbelief.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave- you cannot be here,” Yeosang drew closer and for the first time, you couldn’t make a quick decision, only glanced back and forth like a confused child. 

“Why is my presence such a big problem here?” Yunho straightened, gazing at both of his friends long and hard. “I’m authorised with access here, just like Aurora, am I not?”

Yeosang glanced at you and your reflexes kicked in- you knew that look. He was going to shoot Yunho. When his hand shifted on the trigger, you immediately grabbed a tray and threw it at Yeosang, making Yunho duck as he shot. Yeosang gaped at you and you ran towards him but he pointed his gun at you, making you raise your hands.

“Please, Yeosang, not him,” you begged. “He can help- just listen to me-”

“The Captain only allowed you to save his brother,” he whispered. “He said nothing about Yunho.”

You were about to protest when Yunho pushed you to the side- you didn’t even hear him coming this time. He was on Yeosang in a second, startling him and wrestling him until he was in his grasp and Yunho had him at gunpoint.

And so here you stood, pointing your gun at him. You caught your breath and shut your eyes when the tears started to sting. When you opened them, you spoke. “You have two choices, Yunho. You can either let me go and meet your brother at the same cabin the doctor died that day, or you can kill me right now and lose everything you love.”

“I’ve already lost everything I love,” his voice was strangled and you shook your head in denial. 

“You can save your brother,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“Where are you taking them?” He asked.

“I can’t tell you that,” you shook your head, knowing what it would cost you if you told Yunho everything right now- not only your life but Yunho’s as well.

“Is this who you are, Aurora?” Yunho scoffed. “A true Halaland loyal?”

You didn’t respond though his words felt like a stab. “You have 10 seconds to make a decision.”

The sound of those seconds being ticked off echoed within all of you and at the 9th second when you were about to pull the trigger, Yunho let go of Yeosang and you exhaled in relief, but it died down when his eyes met yours, full of betrayal. Hatred. Confusion. And so, so much anger.

“It’s funny, now that I think about it,” Yunho pushed his hair back. “All those times we interacted. Your sole purpose was to use me to get here, wasn’t it?”

This time, the tears did leave your eyes. Yeosang shook his head and asked Yunho to exit the premises and go through the emergency exit unnoticed if he wanted to save his brother. Yunho passed you a sad smile before he left and you sank down to your knees, fisting the ends of your shirt and screaming your heart out. Yeosang patted your back once before muttering that you had already lost precious time. 

You helped transport the members in a daze. When you set fire to the lab, you didn’t feel one ounce of regret. You told yourself you would set a similar fire some day and burn your feelings for Yunho as well. 

But tonight? Tonight you would let them consume you and drive you mad. Only tonight.

So when you spotted the Captain in an abandoned building that you were going to use until you could go back to Utopia, the cracks of dawn illuminating the ruins, you didn’t bow like you would have. You ran to him instead and hit his chest with your fists repeatedly, crying and screaming, not caring who witnessed the moment. The Captain made no move to stop you, raising a hand to stop Seonghwa instead who was pulling out his gun. He let you have your moment until you were tired and rested your head against his shoulder, crying your heart out.

“Who broke you, Aurora? Who melted that ice-cold heart of yours?”

“I hate you for doing this to me,” you cried and he tsk-ed. “I won’t forgive you.”

“I told you, Aurora,” he held you by your shoulders and you looked at him- hair styled an odd way- half bleached and half natural. It made him look fiercer than ever. “I told you that you will always be alone in this field. It is your weakness that led you here. You can blame me all you want, but it’s on you.”

“Just tell me it’s over,” you said, feeling drained. “Tell me my job is done.”

“It is,” he nodded. “When we go back to Utopia… you’re a free bird if you choose to be.”

You looked beside you at Seonghwa and Yeosang, shaking your head. “I’m going to head inside first then.”

—----------------------

Yunho didn’t know what he was expecting when he broke into the cabin, but his brother laughing with someone else looking unscathed and free just wasn’t it. 

He frowned in confusion. “Gunho?” 

Gunho gasped audibly before rushing to hug his brother and Yunho almost cried in relief. Gunho looked at him. “You’re finally here!”

“Were you waiting for me?” Yunho scanned him, making sure he was okay.

“Of course I was,” he patted his arm, drawing back. “Wooyoung here was kind enough to get me- he won’t tell me who he is but apparently he holds the authority to discharge me from the army. I’m free now.”

“No way,” Yunho breathed, looking gratefully at Wooyoung who shook his head.

“I was simply doing my job.”

“Who assigned you?” Yunho dared to ask.

“I think you know that already,” Wooyoung winked, getting up and straightening his army uniform. “I’ll be taking my leave now. My last message for you is ‘don’t go back’. Oh, and I have something else-”

Wooyoung dug in his pocket and produced four bullets, placing them in Yunho’s extended palm. Yunho recognised the bullets- the one he’d given Aurora, but-

“There should be one more?”

“She kept one,” Wooyoung smiled knowingly.

Yunho sighed deeply. “Tell me where to find her- or someone who can give me answers.

Wooyoung considered for a moment- he had seen the way Aurora had nearly broken when she begged him to save someone she knew nothing about except the name. And the fact that this person was here and still looked sceptical…

Wooyoung took out a piece of paper and pencil and scribbled an address. “Seven days from now, you can find us here. I don’t know if Aurora will still be there by that time.”

“What do you mean?” Yunho asked.

“We’re going back home, Yunho,” Wooyoung smiled. “The war is ending soon. There will be no victory, simply a treaty.”

“Home?” Yunho couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Wooyoung simply saluted mockingly before exiting the cabin.

—---------------------

The past week, Yunho had replayed every moment since Aurora came into his life. Every single time he had seen her, had interacted with her or heard about her from someone else.

He realised he had been blind. The answer was so painfully obvious- Aurora wasn’t from Halaland at all. He was pretty sure her name wasn’t Aurora as well. 

She was a spy, he knew. And now that he thought about it, she hadn’t really done much to hide it- at least not in front of him. From always staring towards the west, not at the setting sun but towards her homeland, to almost cracking Utopia’s code so easily- he wondered if she was the mastermind behind the code. The way she questioned every move Halaland made, the way she put a distance between them-

Every night, he held the four bullets in his hands and wondered why she kept the fifth one. It made him so, so restless.

And every night, Yunho always ended his train of thoughts with the same question every night-

Did she actually love him, or was all of it to get to Medical Research?

Was he simply a rung on the ladder to get to her goal? Or was he not meant to be part of the equation at all, a mistake on her part?

Yunho didn’t realise how long he simply stood in front of the cottage until someone creeped up behind him, patting his back and scaring him a little. It was Seonghwa- yet another surprise.

Just how many people in the Halazia Research Facility were spies? Were they only Utopians or were they from other nations as well?

“I almost killed you because I didn’t recognise you,” Seonghwa lit a cigarette, offering him one but Yunho declined. “So you’re finally here.”

“What do you mean ‘finally here’?” Yunho asked. “Were you expecting me?”

“We placed bets- don’t tell Aurora,” Seonghwa snickered. “Yeosang owes me 10 now.”

She was still here.

“Where is she?” Yunho gulped.

“Not so quick, mate,” Seonghwa scanned him. “You’ve been travelling quite a bit, haven’t you?”

“Have you been spying on me?” Yunho scoffed.

“Weren’t you looking for a place to keep your brother safe?” Seonghwa simply said. “Have you found one?”

“Not yet,” Yunho admitted. 

“You could come with us, you know.”

Yunho considered that. “I don’t know who ‘us’ is. I can’t blindly follow you to god knows where.”

“Well then, I guess you should meet the Captain. He specifically asked me to bring you to him if you came. He’s quite interested in seeing the face of the person who broke his dear Aurora’s heart.”

Yunho raised a brow though his heart sank at his admission. “Where is she, Seonghwa?”

“Out on a mission- she’ll be back by dawn,” Seonghwa urged him to follow him inside and took him to a room where Yunho spotted a man with unique hair standing by the fire. Seonghwa knocked on the door and he turned.

“This is Jeong Yunho.”

“This is him?” the man scoffed as he came forward, a cane in his hand that Yunho wasn’t entirely sure was for mobility purposes. Probably a weapon. “I expected something else- I don’t know. I can’t believe this is the face that melted her frozen heart.”

“And who are you?” Yunho countered, watching Seonghwa take his leave. The man motioned for him to take a seat and Yunho did after a moment of hesitation. The man followed, sitting in front of him.

“They call me the Captain around here. Captain of the Crescents- a group of spies who were born for the sole purpose of taking revenge on Halaland after they betrayed us. Betrayed Utopia.”

Yunho let that sink in. “What revenge?”

“I think you know that already,” the Captain sighed. “Honestly, when I learned that Aurora had told you more than you should have known, considering you don’t have an ounce of Utopian blood in you, I was ready to kill both her and you. But, that brat…” he scoffed in amusement. “She got on her knees for you, Jeong. Do you have any idea what that means?”

Yunho looked blank so he continued. “Aurora is one of the best spies I’ve known in my life. I had to break her to make her bend. But you… what did you do? What sweet things did you mutter to turn my strongest spy into such a hopeless mess? All these years of training her into becoming a cold-hearted thinker and assassin, and she melts because apparently you looked, really looked at her with those eyes of yours.”

Yunho looked down, each word hammering a nail in his head. “If she had told me… I would have joined her. I was never in favour of Halaland’s unethical methods, and after I discovered what was really going on…”

“If she told you, you would have exposed her. She understood that, because she would have done the same. You’re only human, after all,” the Captain twirled the cane in his hands. “Why are you here today?”

“To get answers,” Yunho replied. 

“You’ve got your answers now, haven’t you? Scoot off, then,” he relaxed back, glaring at Yunho.

“Who are you, really?” Yunho asked. “How come you knew about the Medical Research Department?”

The Captain’s smirk fell and he looked wistfully into the fire. “Because I’m one of the masterminds behind Level 0, and to this day, I regret being a part of it.”

Yunho was positive his heart actually dropped to his feet. “You’re a Utopian?”

“The only Utopian who escaped at the right time before they turned against us and stole our ideas,” the Captain looked at Yunho. “Kim Hongjoong, in flesh and blood.”

“Kim Hongjoong is dead,” Yunho couldn’t believe his ears. “We held a funeral for you.”

“A good cover up by Halaland, I’ll give them that,” he shrugged. “They needed to do that to take over and turn on Utopia- they’ve been on my tail ever since. I wasn’t sure if they had the brains to continue with the experimentation- testing on humans was never my idea either. It’s why I sent Aurora to finish this once and for all. We’ve met with your higher-ups and we’ve agreed to not expose their dirty deeds if they end this nonsensical war. The official end of the war will be announced soon.”

Yunho definitely felt something like a heavy burden lifted from his shoulders at the revelation. “And where are the members of Level 0?”

“The ones who were actually doing the dirty deeds will be secretly tried in court. The ones who were spies, like Yeosang… they’re going home. I understand you had a few friends there? Mingi, for instance? He was my closest junior- he’s in the next room if you wish to see him.”

Yunho nodded, letting all of this digest before he got up. “Thank you for what you did- I’m not sure I quite understand the gravity of it yet- it’s too much to process right now, but… thank you.”

“No need to thank me, I did what I had to,” Hongjoong looked at him, an unspoken agreement shared.

He needed to thank Aurora.

He needed to see Aurora.

Yunho spent the most part of the night with Mingi, catching up and confirming the facts, learning that the ‘lab rats’ were now being treated by the doctors and realising how brutally his people had treated even their own. His heart felt tight in his chest by the time he was done chatting with him and he went outside for some fresh air.

And a few minutes later, spotted two figures walking towards the cottage.

He could recognise you even from your silhouette, and he thought it was crazy that he did. He recognised the exact moment you saw him and paused for a mere fraction of a second before continuing to move like nothing had happened. He knew your mannerisms, he knew you inside out, and yet-

He knew nothing about you.

He didn’t even know your name.

This time when you met eyes, he waved awkwardly at you and you felt your heart sink again. You wanted to scream at him, shout at him, but you were far too tired. Your companion took leave, disappearing inside and you walked slowly but surely to Yunho.

“You’re here.”

Yunho passed a tight-lipped smile, wondering where to begin. He scanned you as you took off your mask and hat, looking-

Fatigued. 

“Are you- have you been well?” Yunho asked, hating how he sounded.

You shrugged. “Did you meet your brother?”

“Yes. He’s safe now…” Yunho took a step forward but you backed away and he paused, muttering a ‘sorry’.

“Well, I guess that’s it, then?” You began, looking up and scanning him- you had no idea where he had been the past week but he looked the most weary. “You heard everything, I’m assuming?”

Yunho nodded. “I should have seen it earlier. You didn’t really hide it from me, did you?”

A faintest hint of a smile crawled to your lips. “You don’t always see what’s in front of your eyes, Yunho.”

Yunho’s heart tugged at the way you called his name. “What are we going to do, Aurora?”

You passed a weak smile. “I don’t know. All I know is that I’m going back. I cannot spend one day longer in this wicked, wicked land.”

Yunho felt the jab good and well. “I’m sorry for what it took from you.”

“Are you?” You sighed when hurt flashed across his eyes. “I’m not even mad at you, Yunho. I’m just… disappointed in myself. I’m disappointed that my love didn’t seem real enough- that you doubted my intentions so quickly.”

“And wouldn’t you have done the same?” Yunho challenged. “If I turned my back on you? Wouldn’t you have questioned every moment that we shared?”

“Maybe not-”

“You could have told me, Aurora,” Yunho almost yelled in frustration but clenched his eyes shut to reel himself in. “All you had to do was trust me. You didn’t trust me enough to tell me who you were. I keep calling you Aurora but that’s not even your name.”

You felt the very familiar sting in your eyes. “I had people to protect.”

“And so did I,” Yunho’s gaze was hard. “And I had you to protect. I would have laid my life down for you, if only you had allowed me to.”

You turned away, wiping your eyes. “I couldn’t allow that.”

“So we’re even then, aren’t we?” Yunho’s voice was also quivering and you dared to glance at him. “Please… look at me.”

You did and this time when he stepped towards you, you didn’t back away. He put his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them just like he used to. “Tell me your name.”

You passed him a sad smile as you told him your name, buried somewhere so deep inside you, uncalled for years. He said it twice, testing it on his lips. It felt right.

“Y/n,” he smiled widely and you laughed through the tears. “I want to know who that is. I want to learn about you again, if you’ll let me. If you forgive me for doubting you and for being an asshole-”

“No,” you shook your head furiously. “You gave me so much, Yunho, and I returned nothing in comparison. I would have lost myself there if it weren’t for your presence always grounding me, even when we were as good as strangers. I- you gave me love when I thought I’d never find it again, when it had become a foreign concept to me.”

“Do you love me still, y/n?” He asked, his eyes expectant.

“I do, you fool,” you laughed, finally earning the grin you so loved to see. “I hope you don’t hate me.”

“How could I?” Yunho’s hand shook slightly as he cupped your face and you leaned into his touch. His gaze was so strong as he caressed the angles of your face- you were positive your knees were actually turning weak and perhaps they were, that’s why his other hand travelled to your waist to bring you closer. “How could I hate you when you look at me like this? Like you could break me? Like you’d break in my touch too?”

He planted a kiss on your forehead, lingering there and you breathed in the scent of him- the scent that was your home now. Yunho didn’t waste any more time, leaning in and capturing your lips in a kiss that absolutely shattered you the way it was so cautious yet so, so demanding. You brought your arms to wrap around his neck, standing on your tiptoes with your body flush against him as you kissed back, deeper, making him loosen up with every movement until you were simply making out, exchanging all the feelings too deeply buried, all the words unspoken, all the apologies and the promises.

“I missed you so, so much, y/n,” Yunho breathed against your lips when you broke apart for breath, tugging at your lower lip with his teeth that made you dig your nails into his skin. He pecked your lips again. “You have no idea.”

“I do,” you kissed him. “I know all too well.”

Yunho drew apart, tucking your hair behind your ears as he gazed at you lovingly. “Take me with you this time, will you?”

“You want to come with me to Utopia?” You raised a brow.

“I mean… all my friends will be there,” he glanced back at the cottage and you understood who he meant. “Besides… I’m quite sick of Halaland too. Pretty sure they have a wanted poster back in the facility for me.”

You laughed at that. “Basically you want to come with me because you’re dead meat here.”

“I’m dead meat anywhere if I’m not with you-”

“Stop!” You put your hands over your ears, laughing as you ran away because his goofy side was back and he went after you, making you squeal.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa stood watching from the window upstairs. Hongjoong tsk-ed. “An absolutely disgusting sight, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely,” Seonghwa clinked his drink with Hongjoong’s and they both cursed under their breaths as they drank-

To love. To victory.

To going back home.

[silentscrying]

🏀 buzzer beater | chapter ELEVEN.

nba!gojo x manager!reader

summary: you thought you'd gotten rid of arrogant NBA star satoru gojo when he left the curses after your first year in basketball management. but when your contract is up three years later, you find yourself working with him once again as the manager for the sorcerers. as you navigate playoff season alongside long-time friend ieiri shoko and the sorcerers' insufferable star player, you start to realize his sudden departure from the curses may not have been what it seemed, and maybe gojo isn't exactly the person (or player) you thought he was, either.

warnings: language, slight unwanted advances, mahito in general, fangirl todo. || sfw. 5.3k words.

THE NEXT DAY, the Curses take the series against the Foxes. It’s official: the Sorcerers-Curses rivalry will come to a head in the NBA championships, starting on Friday in San Diego.

The team went harder than ever at practice today, not only drilling but talking strategy and getting into the nitty-gritty of the psychological impact of the rivalry. Yaga knows Mei Mei and the Curses don’t go easy, or fair. They’re ready.

As you pull out the keys to your apartment, you frown at the package on your welcome mat, a weird cylindrical shape with no return address. After you make it to the kitchen, you open it and find a rolled-up sheet of glossy paper. What?

You spread it out on your countertop and see an official signed poster of Satoru, in full uniform, palming a basketball in one hand with a huge smirk on his face. With the photo’s professional editing, his eyes look even more blue than usual, and you may or may not stare at them a second too long.

“Jesus fuck,” you say.

As if on cue, your phone buzzes.

six: did you get my gift?? you: is this for target practice? how sweet six: :( you: baby six: oh it’s like that😏 you: that was an insult

When your phone goes off again after you’ve relegated the rolled-up poster to an end table, you assume it’s Satoru responding. But instead, you find a text from Geto.

suguru geto: Thought about my offer at all?

Great. He waited until the Curses made the championships and just thought he’d try again? You screenshot the text and send it to Satoru.

you: what if i turn on read receipts just for this

six: HAHAHAHA

You won’t, because you’re still planning on taking Geto by surprise on Friday when he realizes you and Satoru are actually together. Your phone rings, and your brow furrows as you realize you don’t recognize the number or the area code.

“Sorcerers management,” you greet, and a high-pitched voice comes through the speaker.

“Hi there! This is Takada with the Reggie Star Show.” You hesitate for a moment. Reggie’s show is kind of a huge deal, and Takada has become something of a personality herself, although you’ve always found her a bit over the top.

“Uh, how can I help you?” you ask finally.

“So! Reggie would love to invite Satoru Gojo onto the show before the NBA championships.” You stand stock-still in your kitchen.

What the fuck, you mouth silently to yourself. It’s not like Reggie never has athletes on the show. But only Satoru?

“Not the rest of the team?” you clarify, and Takada laughs, a high, kind of shrill sound that has you holding your phone a bit away from your ear.

“Well, you see, we’re hoping to promote the series a bit by pulling the centers from both teams! Mr. Geto has already agreed, so we’d love to interview him and Mr. Gojo together.”

Oh, Jesus.

You are 100% certain this is Mei Mei’s doing. You instinctively want to reject her now, but this isn’t really your call.

“Let me run this by Gojo and the coaches, and I can get back to you, Takada,” you say, hoping that tides her over for now.

“No problem. Thank you!” she chirps, and the line goes dead. You groan, staring at the ceiling. This is not worth the hassle. You swipe to Satoru’s contact and call him.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Miss me already?” he drawls, and you roll your eyes.

“Asshole. So, guess who just called me?”

“If you say Suguru I’m flying to San Diego early and cornering him in an alley.”

You laugh. “Okay, Jesus. No. Uh, the Reggie Star Show?”

“What?” Satoru screeches.

“They have Geto coming on before championships,” you sigh, “and they want you too. To ‘promote the series’ or whatever. Drama on screen.”

“Mei Mei’s idea?”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“I don’t really think I have time, considering… it’s championships and we’re training every day? Yaga would be pissed, probably. Not much of a publicity guy.”

Something in your chest loosens at his words. Truthfully, you really don’t want him to go, to be in a situation where he and Geto can only verbally spar through a guise of political politeness.

“Also, I just… don’t want to?” he says. You grin.

“Good. I was hoping.”

“Aw, don’t want me to launch my television career?” You sink onto your couch as he keeps talking. “That could be a great return on investment for you, you know. You have my autograph now.”

“Shut up. And don’t tell Nobara about this. She’d be so mad at you.”

“Scaryyy,” he says, and he’s not joking. “Come over for dinner?” The change in topic has you smiling as you kick your feet up on the coffee table. “Miki and Gumi are coming. And Yuji.”

“And the dogs?”

“Am I not enough for you?” he scoffs, and you grin.

“Not even close.”

“Yes, the dogs, you heathen.”

“Wouldn’t miss it!” you say innocently, and hang up on him.

—

Tsumiki meets you at Satoru’s door with a massive grin on her face and immediately pulls you into a hug.

“Hi!” she says excitedly, ushering you inside.

“Hey, Tsumiki,” you smile, and then there’s a rapid pitter-patter of the dogs rounding the corner into the entryway, and you fall into a pile of fur and kisses. “Hi, buddies! Hi!” Shiro shoves her nose into your face and Kuro plops himself down in your lap right as Satoru rounds the corner.

“Stealing my girlfriend,” he whines.

“Dumbass,” you say, and let him help you up. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and you blush against your will.

“C’mon. Pasta’s ready.” You follow Satoru into the kitchen and find Yuji and Megumi putting plates on the small table. You raise a brow.

“Whose cooking?”

“Whose do you think?” Tsumiki asks.

“I helped!” Yuji insists, pointing to the oven. “I’m making garlic bread!”

Tsumiki pats him on the shoulder and says, “Yes, Yuji, you did a great job.”

You fire off a quick message to Yaga to confirm that it’s okay to reject Takada’s offer, and he responds within two minutes, Please do.

You step out to make the call, and when you come back into the kitchen, Yuji and Tsumiki are giggling at something.

“What are you two on about?” you ask, and Tsumiki, still snickering, hands you her phone. It’s open to a tweet of a grainy computer screenshot, and it says SOMEONE LOOK AT ME THE WAY SATORU GOJO LOOKS AT THE SORCERERS MANAGER PLS PLSPLS

That’s not even the part that gets you. First of all, it’s not from the most recent game—it’s from before you were together. You’re wearing the Limitless shirt.

Second, Kasumi retweeted it.

“Jesus,” you say, and Satoru appears at your shoulder.

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” You swat at him without looking and then pull out your phone to text Kasumi. “I need to tell her before she finds out somewhere else.”

As if on cue, your phone lights up with her name. Your first thought is that she somehow already knows and is FaceTiming you to scream at you. You swipe and her face materializes in front of you, a massive grin on her face and—has she been crying?

“Kasumi! Are you okay?”

“Yes!” she practically screams. And then she holds up her hand, and you stare for a long moment before realizing she’s wearing a ring.

“Holy shit!” you screech. “Kasumi!” The grin splits across your face, and she’s laugh-crying on the other end of the phone, and then she abruptly freezes.

And you realize Satoru’s very much visible in the frame behind you.

“Alley-oop,” she says. “You motherf—Alley. Is that—”

You can see the tips of your ears going pink in the camera in the corner of the screen. “Surprise?”

“To you, maybe!” she laughs. “Holy shit. Holy shit! This is the best day of my life.”

Muta appears beside Kasumi, squinting at the screen. “Tell me it’s because we’re getting married and not because she and Gojo finally banged.” Megumi wrinkles his nose at the other end of the table.

“Kokichi,” Kasumi scolds, but Satoru cracks up behind you and you can’t help but follow suit.

“Congrats, you guys,” you say. “I’m so happy for you. Does Akari know?”

“She’s next on the list,” Kasumi grins.

“We’ll let you go, then,” you say, and take a moment to just appreciate how fucking happy your friend looks. Her blue hair is a mess and her eyes are rimmed red, but she’s glowing. This has been a long time coming. You couldn’t be happier for her, honestly.

When she hangs up, Satoru grins and says, “Aw, basketball romance.” Then he looks pointedly at Yuji and Megumi.

“I suddenly feel like a fifth wheel,” Tsumiki announces. Then she looks at Shiro and Kuro, curled up together on the couch. “Seventh wheel?”

You plop into the chair next to Tsumiki and wrap your arm around her. “Nah, Satoru’s seventh wheeling. I’m here for you.”

She grins, and Satoru falls to his knees and dramatically fakes his own death. The dogs leap off the couch to investigate, and soon he’s laughing as Shiro slobbers all over him while Kuro decides to lay across his legs.

In truth, you don’t remember the last time you felt this content. It’s a nice feeling, warm.

And then a smell hits you, like something burning, and you furrow your brows and turn toward the kitchen. “Is something—”

“Oh my god!” Yuji screeches, practically falling out of his chair and bolting for the kitchen. “The garlic bread!”

—

The results of turning down the Reggie Star offer have, quite possibly, the funniest results of all time.

You’re curled up on Satoru’s couch two days later with your feet on his lap and Tsumiki on your other side, Megumi and Yuji sprawled with the dogs on the floor. On the TV, Todo walks on stage to a cheering studio audience and locks eyes with Takada, and you honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he just passed out right now.

“Simp,” Satoru says. You look at him incredulously. “Okay, hey, I did not say I wasn’t also.” He plants a kiss on your temple and Megumi pretends to gag.

You swear Todo literally has physical stars in his eyes when he looks at her. He shakes her hand with both of his and does a weird half-bow and says, “It’s such an honor, Ms. Ta—“

“Oh, please,” Takada giggles. “Just call me Takada.” Todo goes red again, stammering out a response.

“This is the most painful thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Megumi says. He’s only watching this because Yuji wants to.

“Mr. Aoi Todo,” Reggie Star says grandly, throwing an arm around him like they’re already best buds. “Take a seat, take a seat. Thanks again for joining us on such short notice!”

Todo takes his place on the couch while Reggie and Takada sit in opposing armchairs, the background flashing the Reggie Star Show logo as the theme music peters out. Reggie grills Todo with questions about the Samurai-Sorcerers series, playing against Yuji after playing with him in college, all the connections the team has with half of the championship bracket. And throughout, Todo just can’t tear his gaze away from Takada.

By the time it’s over you’re nearly falling off the couch, laughing yourself halfway to tears.

“Guys, it’s cute! He has a crush!” Yuji exclaims, and you all laugh harder. Tsumiki collapses into you, her hair spreading out over the fabric of the shirt you’re wearing—one of Satoru’s, blue and black and smelling like him.

After the commercial break, which consisted of an actually absurd amount of Takada promoting various useless products, Todo is nowhere to be found. Geto sits on the couch in his place with a press-worthy smile and a crisp, navy blue suit.

“And here we’ve got the starting center of one of the two NBA teams gunning for the championship title, Mr. Suguru Geto,” Reggie introduces, and the studio audience whoops and cheers as Geto waves them off, smiling modestly. You kind of want to slap him.

“Now, let’s not beat around the bush here, Suguru—you’re going up against the Sorcerers the day after tomorrow, and that means you’re coming face to face with your old teammate, Satoru ‘Six-Eyes’ Gojo.” Reggie looks pointedly out at the crowd, like they’re in on some big secret, and turns back to Geto. “How do you feel about this match-up, two starting centers with a lengthy history on the court with stakes this high?”

Geto sighs and leans forward a bit in his seat, one elbow on the armrest. “Well, Reggie, Satoru and I go back a long time.” You wrinkle your nose at the sound of his first name in Geto’s mouth. You feel weirdly defensive about it. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but we went to high school together and then college, so we’ve been playing basketball together since our early teens.”

Takada chimes in, “That’s quite the bond, going through the most formative parts of your careers together!” You can’t take her seriously, because in your head she’s still winking at the camera and waxing poetic about the merits of some new Japanese skincare line.

Reggie nods, encouraging Geto to go on. “I’ve gotta say, I am looking forward to seeing him again. He’s a hard man to get ahold of these days. It’ll be good to see him, albeit on opposite sides of the court.”

“No, it will not,” Satoru says with a false cheer in his voice, pointing a finger gun at the TV.

“And how do you think your odds are looking for this series?”

“Well,” Geto laughs, “the Sorcerers are talented, I’ll give them that. Clearly, they’ve made it this far. But I will say that the Curses are first seed with home court advantage.” He shrugs. “So do with that what you will.”

Takada glances at Reggie, as if asking permission for something, and he nods. “If I’m not mistaken, Mr. Geto, there’s another familiar face on the other side of things as well, a former manager of the Curses.”

Geto nods, a wide smile crossing his face, and you feel Satoru tense up beside you. “Oh, we miss her a lot, yes. She’s great at what she does. I keep telling her she should make her way back to San Diego if she feels so inclined.” He laughs, like this is some great ongoing joke.

“Oh, so you two still speak regularly, then?” Reggie asks, intrigued. Your jaw clenches, and Satoru’s hand encloses yours before it can become a fist.

“I just recently paid her a visit out east.” Oh my god. Oh my god.

“That fucker,” Satoru growls. Your phone buzzes with a message from Ieiri.

my wife: this little man bun bitch

my wife: what if i commit murder. what then

You’re seething, and even Tsumiki is frowning, the lines creasing her face, turning the corners of her mouth down. Paid you a visit? As if you’re friends and he came to catch up with you over coffee, not dropped in on your street in the dark to harass you about a job you don’t want?

“Well, sounds like it’ll be quite the reunion,” Reggie is saying by the time the smoke clears out of your ears enough for you to hear again.

Tsumiki reaches across you to ruffle Satoru’s hair. “He’s just trying to get under your skin. Don’t let him.”

You shoot a quick message back to Ieiri.

you: tbh i’d pay a lot of money to see y’all in a cage match

Reggie and Takada shift to broader questions about the series and you tune out most of the remainder of the segment, irritated when Geto answers one too many questions with Satoru’s name, subtly suggesting that the Sorcerers have none of the grit and discipline the Curses do.

“They’re a fun bunch,” he says at one point. “Like a barrel of monkeys. They just have a good time.” The tone is all fake, smoothed-out public relations, and it makes your blood boil. You know what he’s really implying, that it’s an insult. That the Sorcerers spend all their time hanging off hoops instead of drilling themselves into the ground. You know it’s not true. You’ve watched them work their asses off all year.

“God forbid we know how to have fun,” Satoru snorts, and you feel the tension easing from your shoulders just at the sound of his voice.

“You don’t,” you say teasingly, flipping yourself around on the couch so your head lands in his lap. “That’s entirely Kento.”

Satoru gasps and looks down at you. “You take that back. Nanami is the most unfun—“

“Not a word,” Tsumiki says helpfully.

“Everyone in this house hates me! Slander under my own roof!” He digs his fingers into your sides and starts tickling you, and you squirm out of his grasp and onto the ground, but he follows you. Soon it’s a mess of Shiro and Kuro frantically pouncing on both of you as you squeal for Satoru to let you go, and Tsumiki is definitely filming this whole thing, and it’s all so incredibly domestic and unserious and right that your heart swells in your chest.

Fuck Geto. He can’t get to you here, and he can’t take you away from the team you love.

—

Being in San Diego again is strange. The facilities are familiar, the gyms, the locker rooms, but you’re walking them a different person than you left them, experiencing the same setting in a new context that makes you feel like you’re living in one prolonged moment of déjà vu.

Nobara walks alongside you, bouncing between social media notifications and ranting about the way Geto made the Sorcerers sound on national television last night. Ieiri’s setting up in the training room down the hall, and Yaga’s pulled the guys into the locker room for a quick meeting before they launch into their last practice before the next day’s match.

You keep thinking about Yaga pulling you aside this morning, murmuring a quick warning in your ear. “If you see Mei Mei, no you don’t. Not worth the time. Just slip away.”

So far there’s been no sign of the other manager, and you’re glad for it.

Nobara’s phone starts ringing and she nods at you and peels off, pressing it to her ear and slipping deeper into the building. You lean against the wall, checking your own phone, making sure you don’t have any missed calls or emails.

The side doors open loudly, metal scraping across the floor, and you look up.

Fuck.

It seems Mei Mei doesn’t do her own damn dirty work.

“Oh, hello!” Mahito crows, making his way over to you. You didn’t like him when you worked for the Curses and you don’t like him now, his leering grin too wide for his face, hair tied into three sections behind his back. Him, you know—but you haven’t yet met the man beside him, a lanky, tall guy with oddly wide eyes and a long blond ponytail weirdly off-center on his head.

Of course, you know who he is. You’ve done your research, you’ve seen the roster. Haruta Shigemo.

“I hoped you’d be here.” Mahito comes to a stop in front of you as you push off the wall, crossing your arms.

“Mahito.” Your voice is cold, flat.

He frowns, an exaggerated, off-putting gesture. “Thought it’d be a happier reunion,” he says. He holds his arms out toward Shigemo with a flourish. “I’d like you to meet Haruta. He, ah, was something of a replacement for your Six-Eyes.”

Shigemo stares at you, unblinking, a small, close-lipped smile sending a shiver down your spine. You’re suddenly aware of how close these two men are to you, that your back is to the wall, that you’re alone in the hallway.

“Look, I really have a lot to get done—”

“Oh, we don’t mean to bother you!” Mahito laughs, high-pitched and manic. “We just wanted to welcome you back home, you know. Make sure you settled in to the old stomping grounds.” He leans in, breath smelling like some odd combination of fruity gum and stale crackers. You shudder involuntarily. “I hope you don’t take it too hard when they lose,” he whispers, too close to your face. “Should you need an out, remember we’re in your corner.”

Shigemo holds a hand up as you’re about to retort, tilting his head and studying you. “If he’s not your type,” he giggles, nodding at Mahito, “I’ve got some time on my hands tonight.”

Your face flushes deep red with anger, fists going white-knuckled at your side. “I do not need—”

“Excuse me,” says a cool, familiar voice, and the tension in your muscles goes slack as Kento comes to stand directly between you and your newfound nuisances. “I believe we’ve already taken care of any business that needed tending to before the match tomorrow, yes? Is there anything else I can help you with? We’re just about to kick off practice, and I’m afraid our time is limited.”

Mahito steps back, holding his arms up in false surrender. “Nanami! Hello!” He grins widely. “We’re representatives, of a sort. Just making sure the bunch of you are settled in.” Shigemo nods and looks Kento up and down, calculating.

“We are just fine,” he says flatly, nudging you with a hand behind his back. You nod at the two Curses players and storm down the hallway toward the gym, heart racing in your chest. Behind you, you hear Kento still talking. “Do tell Mei Mei her… thoughtfulness is noted.”

In the gym, the guys are warming up, and your eyes immediately lock on Megumi, angrily slamming an innocent basketball against the wall, over and over. Yuji dribbles between his knees without looking at his ball, watching Megumi intently.

You don’t see Satoru, and for a moment you’re worried, feeling a little off-balance, until you feel hands on your shoulders, spinning you around. “Well, hello,” he says, and you laugh, dropping your head into his chest.

“Fuck is up with Megumi?” you ask, nodding toward him, and Satoru frowns. You notice now the tension in him, the slight anger in his eyes, an energy like impatience and frustration all around his edges.

“Suguru was fucking with him. Saying shit about Tsumiki. I was dealing with him.” He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, considering as he looks over your shoulder at Yuji drawing Megumi back onto the court. “He’s such a dick.”

Kento walks in then, making his way straight over to you. “You okay?” he asks, and Satoru’s brows knit together.

“What? Why wouldn’t she—” He turns to you. “Why wouldn’t you be okay? What happened?”

“Mahito,” you say. “Shigemo, too. Fucking pricks.”

Satoru breathes in sharply, his grip on your shoulder tightening protectively. “If they put their fucking hands on you—”

“Toru,” you say, the nickname slipping out without your permission. It seems to calm him down a little, makes him look at you steadily. “Kento got them out of the way. And they won’t do anything to me. They’re just doing Mei Mei’s bidding, same as Geto, probably.” You grab his hands in yours, nodding at Kento to say you’ll be okay. He inclines his head and walks away, gathering the rest of the team in the center of the gym.

“They want to get under your skin. Don’t let them."

Your voice is steady and calm, coated with a reassurance you don’t feel. Your nerves are still on high alert, Mahito’s breathing down your neck, Shigemo’s unsettling scrutiny lingering in your mind. But you know they’re not after you. You’re a conduit for them, a way to fuck with Satoru. And you will not let them.

“Don’t let them,” he echoes, sighing, pulling you in, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“Remember, flagrantly disgusting display of public affection. Imagine their faces.”

He laughs, loud and bright, and something warm blooms in you at the sound. “God, you’re the best.”

“I know.” You pull back and shove him in the direction of the team. “Now go practice so I can watch you kick their asses.”

He grins at you, does a little half-bow, snapping back into his untouchable, unbothered self. “Anything for you.”

—

There's really no reason for you to have the clipboard in your hands. Every note you’ve taken is committed to memory. You know both team’s rosters inside and out, know every detail of the schedule, what a win or a loss means for the schedule, score projections, all of it. But you need something to do with your hands, so you hold onto it, clicking and unclicking your pen, scribbling in the margins of old brackets, trying to contain all your nervous energy into a manageable space.

And you’re not the only one overflowing with energy. The stadium is alive. The lights are bright, the crowd raucous, the massive hanging scoreboard broadcasting CHAMPIONSHIP SHOWDOWN SPONSORED BY KFC. You don’t think you could eat right now even if someone shoved a bucket of fried chicken into your hands.

“That’s just mean,” Satoru mutters under his breath, gazing up at the advertisement.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothin’.”

He glances down at you and then across the court, where Geto has been tracking the two of you with searching eyes. Mei Mei hides behind a clipboard as well, though you notice her eyes flickering back and forth, studying Satoru, you, Yaga. You pointedly avoid looking at Mahito and Shigemo. Pricks.

The NBA championship series. Sorcerers versus Curses. It all comes to a head here, an endless rivalry for a championship title.

“So, I’m thinking now or never,” Satoru says, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. When you realize what he means, it takes everything in you not to glance across the court at Geto. A smirk spreads across your face, and you grab Satoru’s jersey and pull him toward you.

“Good luck,” you say, and then you kiss him, hard and long and intentional, and you know Geto sees you.

“I think,” Satoru says, pulling back a little breathlessly, “we should do that every game.” He grins and you swat him away, making your way over to Ieiri and Nobara in the far corner, and you can’t wipe the smile from your own face. On the way there you chance a look across the court. Geto isn’t looking at you, but he’s looking at Satoru, talking lowly out of the corner of his mouth to Mei Mei.

Point for me, you think.

“You’re actually nauseating,” Nobara says when you reach her. You know she’s not serious. She knew the plan. She loved the plan.

“I’m making a point,” you say anyway. She follows your tilted head toward Geto and Mei Mei, and you watch the slow, shit-eating grin spread across her face.

“Oh, so worth it,” she murmurs.

You tug the headset on and listen to the unfamiliar announcers, wishing it was Zenin and Panda in your ears but settling for the new, faceless voices instead. They’re not the same guys who usually commentated on the home court when you worked for the Curses, and you’re oddly glad about it, that there’s not another reminder of the loaded history here right in your ears.

“Charles Bernard here with Rika Orimoto,” the new voice says, “ready to watch this long-time rivalry play out in real time.”

When she speaks up, Rika’s voice is bright and younger than you expected, animated where Bernard is entirely deadpan. Interesting partnership.

As the starters take their positions, you’re surprised to see that Satoru’s not the one taking the tip-off.

Kento is. And in front of him, eye-to-eye with a sardonic smile, is Mahito.

Ah, shit.

The ref’s expression is flat and unaffected, but his eyes dart between the two shooting guards as they face off in the center of the court. You wish you could hear what they’re saying.

“An unusual choice for both teams here as we kick off this final series,” Bernard says. “Neither of our centers taking the tip-off today.”

Kento shows no emotion as the ref lets go of the ball, and Mahito leaps, but he’s not fast enough.

“Number thirty-seven Kento Nanami swipes the tip-off without hesitation!” Rika announces. “Back to number six, the Sorcerers' Satoru Gojo, and a fantastic pass up to Fushiguro.”

The Curses' hulking point guard, Jogo, is right up in Megumi’s face with a massive hand reaching out to block, but Yuji grabs the rebound and pounds it through the hoop in seconds.

“And the Sorcerers take the lead just sixteen seconds in,” Bernard says. You look over at Ieiri and Nobara, grinning, and then back to where Mei Mei stands with a stony expression across the court.

You feel good about this.

Back and forth, back and forth. Ino is giving Jogo a run for his money, using his speed to dart around the massive point guard before he even sees what’s coming. In his breakaways Yuji keeps finding himself pitted against Mahito, and it seems like it’s always a fifty-fifty whether the block is successful.

“Some subs as we enter the second quarter. On San Diego's side we have Haruta Shigemo on for Fumihiko Takaba.”

“Yuta Okkotsu on for the Sorcerers!” Rika says, a little too excitedly, before she catches herself and calms down.

“Someone has a fangirl,” Nobara snorts beside you, holding just one side of the headset to her ear.

You can’t tear your eyes away from Satoru and Geto as they go up and down the court, always on each other’s heels, breathing hard. It’s personal, and everyone can see it. If they’re saying anything you can’t make it out.

Both teams are going all-out right now, and the fans feel it too. Megumi’s guarding Naoya Zenin like a shadow, something in the air around them tense and constant. You don’t see Yuji’s uncle but you can certainly hear him, somewhere behind you on the visitors’ side, screaming, “HELL YEAH! SHOW THEM WHAT A WIN REALLY MEANS! THESE FUCKERS WOULDN’T KNOW FIRE IF IT LIT UNDER THEIR ASSES!”

You give it two minutes before he’s kicked out.

Inumaki goes on, then Hakari, and at some point the Curses swap Jogo out for Dagon, and it’s go, go, go. You can barely catch your own breath by the half, the game wrapping around you like you’re the one playing it, and Satoru’s drenched in sweat as the team files back to the locker room. He reaches out and pinches you in the side and you stick your tongue out at him, like the mature adult you are.

“Gross,” Nobara says.

The rest of the game goes by in a similar blur of shots and blocks and heated matchups, Toge nailing a few free throws, Takaba coming back on and managing to slip past Megumi only once. The scoreboard never reads more than a six-point deficit.

You almost don’t hear the buzzer when it’s finally over, players skidding to a stop on the court, their heads turned up toward the scoreboard.

“Holy shit,” Ieiri breathes beside you. “We won. We actually fucking won.”

You rip off the headset, the grin overtaking you, relief and pride flooding your veins like a drug, and the rest of the team floods the court in celebration. They beat a first seed team on their home court.

Satoru catches your eye over the mass of people and smiles, and you wave back.

And this is only the beginning.

directory. || prev. || next.

jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro

[acti-veg]

A representative from the nation’s largest and oldest beef industry group — the National Cattlemen’s Association (NCA) — attended the EPA workshop, and soon after, an arm of the organization began crafting a plan to defend itself against what they anticipated would be growing attacks over beef’s role in global warming and other environmental ills.

The Cattlemen’s plan — an internal 17-page memo titled “Strategic Plan on the Environment” — went unnoticed for decades until two University of Miami researchers, Jennifer Jacquet and Loredana Loy, recently unearthed the document in the NCA’s archives.

Notably, the beef industry plan had barely a mention about addressing cattle pollution. Instead, it centered around how the public and policymakers would perceive that pollution.

“Public relations activity directed toward key influencers is a fundamental thrust of this plan,” one part reads. Other goals of the plan: to positively influence legislation and regulations, and commission experts to write papers in response to critics as part of its “crisis management” strategy. They hired one such expert to address the EPA’s report, which came out in August 1989 and called livestock ���one of the larger” sources of methane.

That blueprint has been incredibly successful. Despite a vast body of domestic and international research detailing the immense environmental impact of meat and dairy production, the industry remains largely unregulated, while surveys show that the public still greatly underestimates meat’s toll on the planet. Although per capita US beef consumption has moderately declined since the 1990s, overall meat consumption is higher than ever and is projected to rise over the next decade.

[heliads]

angel boy charles leclerc with a workplace romance?? maybe r’s new on the ferrari pr team or an engineer who he keeps flirting with but she’s kinda shy so she doesn’t rly flirt back and doesn’t know why he’d want her over everyone, but then he defends her against some shitty reporters who keep making jokes abt her and she realizes oh he actually does like me and SHE asks HIM out?? obvs it’s cool if you don’t wanna write this but either way i think you’re really cool and i hope you’re day’s goin great!

'here's what i know' - charles leclerc

masterlist

It’s time for the one part of the week that Formula One teams across the grid detest most of all. No, it’s not qualifying, and not even the threat of a bad race day that can crush championship dreams for good. Today is Thursday, media day, which means that twenty drivers and many more members of staff are about to be hounded for hours until they break down and spill something they shouldn’t.

Since you’re not a driver, you had always hoped that you’d be able to get out of these sorts of things without too much difficulty. No one pays much attention to the engineers anyway– outside of Adrian Newey and the like, the guys behind the scenes tend to be ignored in favor of the ones in the cars, although you don’t know many engineers or strategists that have a problem with that.

No, the baying mass of reporters known affectionately to the paddock as Sky Sports and their affiliates are more of a difficulty than a blessing. Each and every race week, drivers and team principals alike are briefed by their PR officers on how to dodge bad questions and only stick to their strengths. For one of the first years in your career, though, you now have to deal with the same thing, and that is due to your recent promotion.

You’ve been a race engineer for a couple of years now, and you’ve loved every minute of it. Every STEM-inclined student with a hankering for racing dreams of working for Formula One, but you actually managed to turn those fantasies into a reality when you signed your first contract with the Scuderia Ferrari racing team. It wasn’t a showy job, of course, closer to tightening screws and redoing paint jobs than anything specific, but over time, you’ve managed to show your worth and quickly rise through the ranks.

As of this season, though, you’ll be out on the pitwall as Ferrari’s chief strategists instead of tucked away somewhere in the garage. It was a risky move when you decided to throw your hat into the strategy ring instead of sticking with the more technical aspects of race engineering, but you’ve had a knack for it ever since you first turned up in the paddock, and the higher-ups at Ferrari have noticed that. This promotion has been a long time coming, so they say.

Regardless, it’s still a bit stressful to be the face of Ferrari’s strategy decisions, especially given the fact that the Scuderia has struggled a bit in that department over the past few seasons. The Tifosi were definitely hesitant to show their support of the change in leadership, but after your critical advice led to some excellent showings in the first few rounds, you won them over in a landslide. No more terrible back-to-back stops, no more team orders mixups, you’ve proven your effectiveness in the strategy seat and everyone is glad to see it.

Well, almost everyone. The reporters are still as fixated as ever on getting a good story, and for some reason a couple have decided that the best headlines are centered around creating drama regarding your new job assignment. It feels like every week they’re running stories about how the Ferrari team principal wishes you weren’t there, or how Charles and Carlos are shaking their heads over each and every one of your bad calls.

This, of course, isn’t the case. Ferrari couldn’t be happier with your decisions since they’ve propelled the team up in the championship standings, and you get along quite well with the drivers. Charles especially has taken it upon himself to reassure you countless times that the rumors couldn’t be less true. Some of the reporters have a way of twisting their words from compliments into insults, but he wants to ensure that you never believe them.

Charles has been one of the greatest parts of your climb to head of strategy at Ferrari, actually. You met him when you were the lowliest of engineers, and for some reason, he’s stayed a friend of yours ever since that very first day. Truthfully, you hadn’t expected him to so much as remember your name– there are infinitely many engineers and strategists and PR workers at Ferrari, after all, and Charles is introduced to dozens of new celebrities at every race– but the very next time he saw you, he’d smiled and greeted you by name as if you were an old friend.

It had made your day. Same with the next time he’d done it. Although you may not entirely understand it, Charles Leclerc is committed to liking you, and he doesn’t seem inclined to stop any time soon. Nor are you inclined to stop him yourself– Charles is a fantastic person to be around. He’s never let his fame get to his head, and if you were to talk to him, you’d swear he was just a friend from uni or a next door neighbor or something, certainly not a world class driver. Charles doesn’t talk to you like he’s a Formula One driver and you’re a strategist. He speaks with you like he’s Charles and you’re Y/N and he couldn’t want anything more than to hear you laugh when he tells a joke.

Armed with this knowledge, you feel that you could take on any reporter, their tendency to warp simple statements into crazy arguments be damned. What’s more, you have an excellent friend in Hannah Schmitz, Principal Strategy Engineer over at Red Bull Racing. Although the two of you may technically be on rival teams, that hasn’t stopped you from becoming close friends. Hannah is one of the only people in the world capable of understanding exactly how you feel regarding work, as she’s in almost the same position as you, albeit on Red Bull instead of Ferrari. She’s older than you by a good couple of years, but that hasn’t stopped you two from quickly growing close.

For Thursday’s media frenzy, Hannah meets up with you close to the gate so you can walk in together. The Ferrari and Red Bull motorhomes are close by, and it’s nice to have a friend while you brave the storm of reporters waiting for you just inside the paddock.

The first round of them draws near. Hannah grins at your obviously forced smile. “Stay alert. They’re coming.”

“I’ll do my best,” you whisper back, and she hides a laugh.

You don’t have much time for inside jokes after that; a dozen phones and recording devices are flung in front of you, and you’re immediately greeted with several overlapping questions. You answer in quick syllables, all the while careful to keep your tone light so no one accuses you of being unnecessarily terse. You feel confident that you didn’t say anything to dull your team’s image, but you still can’t help a sigh of relief when you bid Hannah goodbye at the door of the Ferrari motorhome.

Upon entering the Ferrari center, you immediately spy Charles at one of the tables near the door. He glances up when he sees you enter, and flashes you a kind smile. “You look stressed. Don’t tell me Sky Sports has gotten to you already?”

You laugh. “They were waiting for me when I arrived. Man, I miss when they had no idea who I was.”

Charles chuckles. “I don’t. You’re more interesting to see on my screen than some of the other drivers.”

You scoff. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

Charles’ eyes widen meaningfully. “It’s true! You actually have things to say. The rest of us can only talk about how we plan on winning. Everyone says that.”

You walk over to his table, leaning your hands against the open chair. “If you paid attention during strategy meetings, you’d have something to say to them, too.”

Charles rolls his eyes, but grins sheepishly nonetheless. “How about you fill me in now, then? Come on, have a seat. I’m sure my PR officer would appreciate it if I didn’t go out there sounding like a total idiot.”

You shake your head on instinct. “You’re relaxing. I don’t want to take up your time.”

“I mean it,” Charles insists. “Sit down. I even have extra coffee.”

“That’s certainly a nice coincidence,” you say with a raised brow, but take the seat he offers you.

Charles smiles satisfiedly when you join him. “Yes,” he murmurs, “A coincidence.”

You end up passing more time than you expect at Charles’ table, just the two of you and the coffees cooling in your mugs. At first, you do talk about strategy, but over time Charles starts coaxing more details out of you, like what you’ve done since the past week and if you’ve got any plans for the upcoming weekend. He sounds genuinely interested in what you have to say, and it’s easy to forget that he isn’t just your coworker but a real, true friend.

You glance down at the table when the intensity of his earnest stare becomes a little too much for you. You know how the other strategists talk and tease you about your friendship with Charles, even if it is just that, a friendship. Yes, he may bring you coffee all the time, and eagerly stay back after strategy meetings so he can walk you out to your car, but he’s just doing that to be nice. It doesn’t mean anything. You cannot allow yourself the hope of thinking that it might mean anything.

After all, despite the denials you’ll give the other strategists and even Hannah when she has the occasion to join in the teasing, you wouldn’t mind it if Charles ever acted on his flirtations. The only problem is that you have made a career out of being realistic and reasonable, and you know that this is one perfect victory that just won’t be yours. Charles is gorgeous. He goes after gorgeous girls, stunning supermodels, and amazing actresses. You are lovely in your own right, but you aren’t the kind of person that a Formula One driver would ever date. It is important to keep your heart from being crushed, even if denying this hurts you more than Charles’ rejection ever could.

That little coffee chat ends soon enough, much like every other quick lunch and early morning talk you’ve shared with him. Charles goes off to his garage, and you head out to your office to prepare some talking points for meetings later that day. The drivers will be escorted to media day press conferences, and you probably won’t run into Charles again until later into the afternoon.

You realize about halfway through the day’s work that you haven’t gotten up once since you arrived. In need of a brain break and a chance to stretch your legs, you decide to go for a quick circuit around the paddock before coming back inside again to carry on. The sun is warm on your face when you dare to duck outside, and it feels good to walk around for a little while.

Unconsciously, your legs carry you towards the building where the press conferences are being held. Not wanting to intrude, you decide to head back towards the center of the paddock. While you’re in the middle of making this decision, though, you notice Charles emerging from the building. You switch directions to aim towards him instead; you can joke about the nightmare that is a Formula One press conference, and you know Charles will be glad to let off some steam by complaining.

As you’re walking over, you notice a few reporters coming out of the building as well and groan internally. These couple of men in particular have been nothing but thorns in your side since you accepted your promotion. When the news first broke, they wrote a couple of articles apiece about how you were going to run Ferrari into the ground. When that proved false, they switched tactics and decided to use their journalism skills to disparage you whenever they got the chance. Numerous drivers and reporters alike have called them out for targeting you, but they haven’t stopped yet, which is frustrating.

Charles notices the reporters at the same time as you, you can see his head turn as he tracks their progress. You’re close enough now that you can hear what they’re saying, but it isn’t good. They never get tired of repeating the same bullshit about how you can’t make a smart call to save your life. One of them laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. That’s what you get for putting a girl in charge.

Hot anger boils through your stomach, but you force it down. They haven’t seen you yet, and you’d like to keep it that way. Challenging them on this will only provide them with more ammunition.

Charles, however, doesn’t seem to see it that way. He stops directly in front of the two reporters, arms folded coldly across his chest. “What did you say about Y/N?”

The reporter who’d just spoken eyes him confusedly. “Nothing, man. Don’t worry about it.”

“I will if you’re insulting her,” Charles fires back. “Don’t talk about her like that. Y/N is a welcome part of Ferrari and her strategy decisions have won us races, as you well know. I don’t know what you get out of taking her down but it’s stupid of you to carry on like that.”

The reporter blanches, leaning back as if Charles has struck him. “Calm down, man. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Charles’ glare doesn’t lighten for a second. “Then stop talking badly about her. It just makes you look like an asshole who doesn’t know what he’s talking about. That’s what you are, of course, but maybe you want your reputation to be better.”

You clap a hand to your mouth to stop from letting out a surprised laugh. He’s totally caught them off guard, and it’s fantastic to see. More fantastic than that, you realize slowly, is that Charles is doing this purely to defend your honor. There are no cameras around. No one is recording him. Charles could have just ignored it, but he chose to go out of his way to defend you because that matters the most to him. Because he would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t spend his every waking hour making sure you got the respect you were owed.

Charles doesn’t have to do this, but he wants to. There is a reason for this, a reason that, at last, you know. You’ve been denying it to yourself for the longest time, but the proof of his affections is right before your eyes.

You spin away before he can notice your presence, giddy with the knowledge that, of all the people in the world, Charles Leclerc wants you. You. Y/N L/N. His chief strategist.

You nearly run into Hannah when you pass by the Red Bull motorhome. She’s just emerging, and looks at you confusedly. “Is everything alright?”

“Hannah,” you say, grasping vaguely at your friend’s arm to steady yourself. “Hannah, I’m having an epiphany.”

She eyes you dubiously. “What now? You want to change your tire strategy for Sunday?”

“No,” you say, voice weak, “I realized– I think Charles likes me, Hannah. I think he likes me a lot.”

She stares at you. “Are you just now coming to this conclusion?”

You turn to her in surprise. “You knew?”

Hannah throws her hands in the air. “Y/N, we all knew. It was extremely obvious.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks. “Oh. I didn’t know.”

“That was also obvious,” Hannah comments. “Now, come on. You’re one of the most action-oriented people I know. What are you going to do about this?”

You turn towards the Ferrari motorhome. “I’m going to talk to him.”

“Great start,” Hannah says, clapping you on the shoulder. “Tell me how it goes. Tell me everything.”

You grin at her before you leave. “I won’t leave out a single moment.”

Charles has just made it back to the Ferrari center when you arrive. He beams up at you when you walk through the door, as if he hasn’t just heard some assholes insulting you and decided that every moment not spent defending you is a moment wasted.

“Charles,” you breathe. “Can I talk to you?”

He arches a brow, still wearing that same lopsided smile. “We’re talking now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” you laugh him off. “What if we talked later, too? Like, over dinner or something?”

His eyes go wide. “What? Do you– what do you mean?”

“Charles,” you repeat. He goes silent, like just the sound of his name from your lips is enough to compel him to you forever. “I’m asking you on a date. Will you say yes?”

“Yes,” he tells you. “Yes. What– I didn’t know you felt like that– do you really? This isn’t a joke, is it? We’re not going just as friends?”

“I think I should be asking you that,” you laugh. “No, Charles. I want to go on a date with you.”

“Well,” he says, smiling, “I think I can arrange that. Only if you promise there will be more than just one.”

“I promise,” you tell him.

How could you not? Charles is the one you want, the one you have been wanting since you first fell for the spark in his dark eyes and the light of his laughter. He is the one you will continue to want months and years from now, after countless dates and many gifted flowers and a lot of moments spent together, always together. It starts now.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[snakebites-and-ink]

Hí hí!!! I have a request :3

A villain Whumpee whom was a big big issue for the heroes, until the heroes managed to capture them and torture them in the name of "justice" before becoming their Caretaker once they believe the villain's been thoroughly "redeemed", the villain having become a mass of coping mechanisms and survival strategies due to the trauma and reduced to an overly-fawning constantly-afraid mess despite previously being super cocky and arrogant :3 (bonus if the villain's winged!!!!!)

Thanks for the request! I had fun with it :)

CW: Imprisonment, corrupt "heroes", stress position, implied other tortures, conditioning, messed up view of redemption

Villain was marched into the superheroes’ headquarter by a triumphant hero. Villain was kept bound in power-dampening cuffs, and surrounded by heroes ready to overpower any attempt at escape. They tried to break free, of course, they had to at least try, but they were quickly snagged and towed back to the center of their escort.

As they were taken through the building, Villain was met with taunts and disdain, while the hero who’d caught them was greeted with cheers and congratulations. Villain tried to lash out but was manhandled back into position.

“Thank goodness. You’ve been a thorn in our side for far too long,” one of the heroes said to Villain as they neared the procession.

“All the things you’ve destroyed, the people you’ve hurt…You’re a demon. You even look like one.” The hero reached out to touch the edge of their wing, and Villain jerked it away with a dark glare.

“Now, now,” Superhero interjected, “We don’t judge people based on what they look like, we judge what they’ve done. But I’m afraid Villain has done some rather horrible things.” The regret in their tone sounded more mocking than genuine. Then they spoke to Villain directly: “But don’t worry. We’ll give you a chance to make up for it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Villain snarled.

“Nasty temper, too,” Superhero tsked. “But no matter. The point is, everyone deserves a chance at redemption. And we’re going to help you with that. You pay for your crimes, and you might get a chance at something better. That’ll all depend on you.”

“I don’t need your redemption.”

“Of course you do, villain.”

Superhero barked some orders, and Villain was dragged to a cell. They struggled once more, but couldn’t get free, not surrounded by superheroes and with their powers dampened. They were thrown in, to wait for their ‘redemption’ to start, whatever that would mean.

* * *

Villain shook with strain as they were held in a stress position, the latest in a string of torments. They’d tried, more as an automatic response than anything, to hide behind their wings from Hero, who hadn’t taken kindly to it. This wasn’t about redemption, this was about the heroes’ preferences. Of course, they still construed it as some form of redemption or betterment. Something about not trying to conceal themself or escape justice.

Some of the heroes had rigged up a system designed to keep them in place, and stab into them if they moved too far out of position.

A bead of blood trickled down the skin of their wing. Villain corrected the position to stop the sharpness from biting into them.

Their own treacherous thoughts murmured to them that they wouldn’t be in this position—both literally and figuratively—if they’d only done what the heroes wanted.

They glared towards nothing in particular. The expression was undermined with a pained grimace. It was one thing after another in this so-called path to redemption. The heroes seemed convinced that the only way for Villain to make up for their past villainy was through suffering. Suffering of every kind. And more suffering.

This was just one of the many ways they were hurt. If it wasn’t a stress position enforced by biting sharpness, it would be something else. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier to bear.

* * *

Walking more or less freely among the heroes, Villain felt like they were walking on eggshells.

They’d been redeemed. The heroes had assured them. They’d reached that invisible threshold only the heroes seemed to be able to discern, that inscrutable point at which they’d suffered enough to pay for their evils.

All the pain and suffering they’d struggled through….It was worth it, right? Right. They were finally redeemed.

But they were still nervous. Even as they told themself it was done, a part of them waited for the other shoe to drop, for the heroes to be upset by something, for Villain to be hurt again.

Villain trembled slightly, doing their best to hide it. They knew the heroes wouldn’t be happy to see them still afraid now that they’d been redeemed. Their disapproval was gentle (now), but it still scared Villain.

They kept their wings politely folded behind them, not trying to duck beneath them no matter how Villain wanted to hide from the world and the people who’d hurt them.

A hand rested on them, and Villain stiffened—not quite flinching, never flinching away from what was right and just.

The hero noticed. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Villain smiled, polite and agreeable hoping it was enough to cover the hint of panic in their eyes.

“Good. Well, we’re having a game night and we’d like you to join us. Help you reintegrate.” The hero smiled back, and Villain nodded. “Come on.” The hero took Villain by the arm—gently, they were always gentle now that Villain had been redeemed—and led them through the headquarters.

On the way, they passed the holding wing, full of cells and torture chambers anything else the heroes needed to keep villains in check. Villain couldn’t help but step back when they saw a door they’d come to associate with torment, pulling out of the hero’s gentle grip.

“Please, I—” They bit their tongue, halting the protests.

Their hero escort looked at them with patience and pity (and was that a hint of amusement?). “You’ve paid your dues. You don’t need to be afraid of that anymore—unless you return to your evil ways.”

Villain shook their head frantically. They wouldn’t! They knew better. They were better, now, they had to keep reminding themself of that.

(They didn’t feel better.)

“Okay, let’s just move on past here,” The hero said, a touch of sympathy imbuing their voice. They gently pushed Villain through the hall. Villain’s racing heart started to calm when the area was out of sight.

“Better?” the hero asked. Villain hesitated, then nodded. It was okay. They were better now. Their redemption was done. They weren’t supposed to be afraid anymore. “Great. Let’s go play some games.”

[centrally-unplanned]

This article about Hamas's strategic planning in the lead up to the October assault was at least a partial mind-changer for me. So far I had been viewing Hamas as executing a "bait" attack on Israel for international & domestic political reasons. Kill enough Israelis, and in particular take some hostages, to force Israel to invade Gaza; which you want because that will re-inflame radicalism, tank Israel's growing coziness with Arab states like the Gulf Monarchies, and keep the Palestine Question front-and-center on people's agendas.

What it was not about was achieving any sense of a military victory; Hamas did not think they would be able to defeat the IDF on the field, or even truly hold them back. They thought they would do better than they have in defending Gaza, to be honest, but the goal wasn't to "win" in that way or anything. The actions of Israel, in their inflamed bloodlust, would be the fulcrum of progress for Hamas. It was the most logical interpretation of their strategy, because tbh its working, Israel's strategy void has bungled this war at every level. Of course if it is "worth it" is a completely separate question - Hamas is playing a game from deep, deep in the red, if you aren't going to fold and pack it up from that position these are the hail mary plays you make.

This article, a long (and sometimes overly windy) interview with two career members of the Palestinian governing orgs (primarily Fatah), shines a very different light on that. They outline that over the past ~decade, Hamas leader Yahya Sinwar coalesced power around his own faction of highly fundamentalist adherents that convinced itself that divine favor was shining on them and they would be able to actually defeat Israel in the field. The most compelling evidence for this is a conference they held planning the post-conquest occupation of Israel:

So detailed were the plans that participants in the conference began to draw up list of all the properties in Israel and appointed representatives to deal with the assets that would be seized by Hamas. "We have a registry of the numbers of Israeli apartments and institutions, educational institutions and schools, gas stations, power stations and sewage systems, and we have no choice but to get ready to manage them," Obeid told the conference.

They even called people up to ask if they would take the job of governor of this-of-that province! This was not a bored-Friday white paper by any means. They discussed defensive plans and counter-offensives like that was on the table. Sinwar outlined conquest as the goal.

If we accept this premise, it naturally lends itself to the question "okay how did they get the rest of Hamas to go along with this?" Because Hamas is not all These Kinds of People, its a governing state that does politics on the international stage after all. One of the reasons I leaned towards my interpretation was that, for the past ~decade, Hamas has actually been doing a glam-up rebranding of the org to make it more moderate & respectable in international eyes. The 2017 Charter Revision is the biggest example, which included say disavowing the idea that this was a religious war (distinguishing between zionism & judaism), and loosely admitting to the idea that they could recognize Israel as a country if terms were met. Actions like these show actors who are pretty level-headed. Were they inauthentic? Did they change their mind?

Maybe a bit, but its more than they aren't the same people. Right alongside the build-up to the October attack was a purging & sidelining of whole swaths of Hamas leadership. Many were not even informed of the attack - though they knew something was coming. Apparently it leaked on October 2nd, and a bunch of leaders just immediately fled the Strip for safety. This one is the most amusing:

Haniyeh's eldest son took a similar course of action. Around midday on October 2, Abed Haniyeh chaired a meeting of the Palestinian sports committee, which is headed by the minister of sports, Jibril Rajoub. Suddenly he received a phone call, left the room for a few minutes and then returned, pale and confused. He immediately informed the committee – whose members were in a Zoom conference with counterparts in the West Bank – that he had to leave for the Rafah crossing straightaway, as he had just learned that his wife had to undergo fertility treatment in the United Arab Emirates. (He was lying.) He granted full power of attorney to his deputy and left the Gaza Strip hurriedly.

That is one way to duck out of a pointless meeting, take notes people!

So instead of my hail mary politics play, what you have is a story of an institutional coup by a radical faction - which for extremist resistance groups is an ever-present threat. None of this means the "bait" strategy part is wrong of course, that was definitely still the point - but this argument here claims that goal of the bait was to bring the IDF into Gaza where it could be defeated in the field with their extensive fortifications, and then presumably inspire others like Hezbollah to jump on the moment of weakness and besiege Israel proper.

So....is this true? There are two gigantic caveats on this article: the first is that the people being interviewed do not primarily work for Hamas - they are members of Fatah, the leading faction of the PLO. They hate Hamas, they are not Hamas leaders themselves, they have every incentive to paint Hamas as irredeemable. You really can't take this story simply at their word. But they aren't outsiders - they hate Hamas but they work with them constantly, that is how it works, people rotate around in the Palestine orgs. They have met personally and worked with dozens of Hamas leaders; one of them was even called to be offered one of those post-war occupation governorships! (He said no lol) So its a big red flag but not a damning one. And things like the fleeing leaders, the conference on the occupation, those all 100% happened. They released press on it, they weren't hiding it.

The second caveat is that its just really not uncommon for large organizations, particularly extremist ones, to engage in mainly performative actions at scale. The South Korean government still maintains a department that plans for the administration of North Korea for example! Not totally useless ofc, but it writes exactly the reports you think it does that get put in a bin and never touched. Sometimes its appeasing internal factions, sometimes its PR, sometimes its just institutional inertia. Its absolutely believable that Hamas would make a big plan for how they would conquer Israel because otherwise...what do you tell the commanders, exactly? Why are they fighting again? A significant percentage of the lower-level fighters need that belief, so you give it to them. While certainly there is a fundamentalist faction in Hamas, are they ones winning? Or are they just another faction being played against?

I don't see enough evidence to say, but there is enough to make me pause. I'm not sold on it in the end, that is my final conclusion. I think more brains than Sinwar were involved in this and they had more realistic aspirations. And yet the level of commitment and disorganization does suggest that at least some of what was pushing events forward was a group immune to doubts being at the wheel. Certainly interested in researching more.