#and the remaining two months was me trying to decipher

[wintersera]

01 — frozen awakening

masterlist

— pairing: kim minjeong x scientist!reader

notes: half of the time i was writing out this chapter, i was listening to this “dystopian scifi” ambience on youtube to get into the mindset 😭

cw: pwp, SMUT, reader is a virgin, a guy dies, descriptive language of a gross looking monster, two guns being used, a singular needle, non consensually taking blood.

wc: 11.6k

personal log: no. 235

status performance on the prosthetic arm created approximately 47 days ago:

inactive. per usual. i don’t know why the officer constantly nags me about consistently trying to get the damn thing to work. clearly it isn’t. not one budge, not one twitch. nothing. just a lifeless chunk of metal. i’ve hooked it up to the life source in pod 05, but man, this piece of shit is just too stubborn to move.

but it’s not like i can do anything about it anyway. i was assigned to this position and the officer will kick my ass if i don't manage to make this arm move by the end of this month… what does he know anyway? the military is full meatheads who know nothing about science.

anyway, signing off.

kwon [redacted].

date: 16/01/xxxx

—

“it’s late, doctor”

with one click of the keyboard, a quick swig of the umpteenth energy drink of today, and one final weary exhale, you recline back into your desk chair, swivelling the black and dusty seat around to meet your coworker.

“i know. but officer kim wants this arm done by next month. can’t afford to leave the lab even if i wanted to” on the table lies a metallic arm, a few wires attached to the wrist and fingers. “oh and to make matters worse, the things not budging. at all…” you say through gritted teeth as your frustration was evident. the thing was a cold and empty vessel, disgustingly soulless, lacking heat and life. this wasn’t something you enjoyed, but you had to do regardless.

again, you let out a weary sigh, propping your elbow up on the table as you rest your head against the heat of your palm. exhaustion was shown in the deep and dark circles that had settled uncomfortably underneath your eyes, your hair carelessly thrown in the messiest and loosest ponytail your fatigued fingers and arms could manage. the same could be said for your lab coat too. the once crisp and prim white material all crumpled up and wrinkled together. then there was your name tag that hung on your breast pocket askew… jesus, when was the last time you had a shower?

“…well, don’t overwork yourself too much, doctor. your intellect exceeds most of us, and if you’re exhausted your research would be gibberish garbage that we wouldn’t be able to decipher, and you know that” the doctor in front of you gently scolded you as they whipped their head towards your slumped over body, a low and equally fatigued chuckle parting from their lips, resting a hand on your back as they point out your scribbled down notes and diagrams “c’mon doctor. i’ll shut down the lab for you. just head back to the dorm”

for what felt like an eternity, you had remained firmly glued to your chair, immersed in your own task. the hours had flown by in a blur of focus and determination, your body stiff and cramped from the prolonged stillness. finally, you pushed yourself to your feet, a chorus of creaks and pops echoed through the empty room, your aching back cracking as you attempted to straighten your spine “alright, but i need to do a quick check around the building first.”

“hey” despite the apparent fatigue in the doctor's face, they addressed you with a hint of spirit “how about we split? that way we both can head back to the dormitory much faster”

“sounds fair. i’ll go check around section 02, there’s more tech in there. i don’t think a rookie like you can handle all that”

—

feeling the weight beneath your feet, you trudge silently throughout the various corridors, the faint, eerie glow of the flickering blue fluorescent lights casting shadows across the floor. at some point, you swear you could hear the sound of skin slapping across the freezing floors, but you paid no mind to that. maybe it was your mind playing games with you. after all you were on the verge of passing out.

with each step you took, the soft echoes of your footsteps and your laboured breathing ricocheted off the hollow walls. the corridors seemed to stretch out endlessly in the gloom, a sense of disorientation seeping slowly into your body “how long did they have to make these corridors… swear to god i’ll die in one of them some day”

a sense of dread suddenly washed over you. something seemed wrong, like fresh air had wafted through the dusty building. then after a prolonged and uncomfortable silence, there was a deafening clash, perhaps a thick sheet of metal had fallen onto the ground flat onto the ground.

protocol states that if you heard a strange sound emitting from any of the rooms, and if no scientist that was assigned were present, it would be best to avoid the area as a whole, maybe to even contact the military in case it was a one of your regular mutant attacks.

yet, for some inexplicable reason, you found yourself trusting your intuition. as you carefully tiptoed into the familiar room, you laid eyes on one of the cryogenic pods. all of them had been occupied by presumably brain dead bodies, preserved for historical records should memory extraction ever be required from the era of old earth. all of the pods were pristinely polished from the top all the way down to the bottom, the glass surfaces gleaming in the darkness. but that one pod. it’s once smooth and functional form was now severely damaged from an unknown cause. the cryogenic liquid that kept the body preserved inside, flowed slowly out of the broken vessel. with a depressing trickle, it pooled around the front of the pod, drops of the substance bringing forth a strange sense of melancholy. it was like a cruel mockery to the warmth and life that it contained.

on the pod was a date of birth, and a name.

“patient 0101, huh? born january 1st 2001.” you muttered, unable to hold back the ironic chuckle “wow, what a birthday to celebrate. now, the name” with the sleeve of your crinkled lab coat, you wiped away the condensation that had clung to the cold metal of the surface.

“ah, shit. old korean lettering” you reached into your pocket to extract out a bizarre looking device. it’s red laser scanning the old korean characters. a beep signalled the completion of the scan, the device’s screen displaying the full translation of the mystery person's name.

“kim minjeong” you read aloud. the name rolled off your tongue easily. though it was a much older version of the current korean language, it still held its similarities.

this was uncharted territory. a cryogenic pod breaking out of the blue was unheard of. a concept so unrealistic and impossible, and yet, against all odds, a body laid there. preserved, untouched. ready to be researched and discovered by an extremely talented scientist. ahem, aka you.

as a researcher, a scientist who specifically specialised in biomedical engineering, neurobiology and material science, you felt the sudden compulsion to retrieve the naked body out from the vessel and cradle it into your arms. the girl felt cold to the touch, lifeless in your embrace.

“doctor jeon doesn’t need to know about this…” fiddling with the radio on your belt, you hastily call in your coworker, the scientist on the other side of the building concentrating on their task

“hey, i’m nearly done closing up your workstation. you sure have a shit ton of empty red bull cans… sheesh”

“uh, about that. just remembered that i’ve got a few important things to attend to. leave without me. oh and don’t close down my workstation you idiot. it’s open for a reason” your mind raced with many questions as you dismissed your coworker so urgently. how did her pod break? who was she? what was old earth like? how would she react to waking up a millennia in the future? was she dreaming whilst under a comatose-like state during the cryogenic freezing?

besides all of the questions swirling around in your mind, you momentarily set them aside to focus on the more pressing matters “you must be cold, right?” you whisper as if you were to wake her from her deep slumber “here, take my coat” you slid off your lab coat, draping it around the girl’s smaller frame. without further thought, you carry the girl’s almost weightless body in your arms, pressing her closely into you, being careful not to jostle her around too much.

again with the endless stream of corridors within corridors and hallways within hallways.

it was bothersome to navigate through them every single day. even after working for years here, some way or another you’d end up lost “i don’t have time for this…” you tread carefully throughout the lengthy halls, holding onto the naked girl’s body with a tight grip.

upon hearing footsteps of a nearby officer, you quickly, yet cautiously step closer and closer to your workstation on the far end of the room you had just entered.

it was a long day, and you hadn’t had time to perform the sterilisation procedure in a hot minute. but there was another issue at hand, you had a girl in your arms.

fuck it.

you adjusted your grip carefully, holding her up with one arm and one hand, and the other arm free to clean up the possibly stained table from your previous fiasco. carefully you slinged her over your shoulder as you began the tedious process of thoroughly cleaning the surface.

cryogenic incident log no.1

subject: patient 0101, kim minjeong.

DoB: january 1st, 2001 (old earth era)

vitals: currently unconscious. vitals are weak, however pulse and respiratory rates are within a safe and acceptable range. brain activity, questionable (most likely due to a millennia of cryogenic preservation)

condition: slightly hypothermic

appearance: asian, 5’4, quite frail. appears to be in her 20’s, pale skin (either from cryogenic preservation or genetics), bleached blonde hair.

extra notes: further examination and tests are required to determine the subject's health status and her identity. subject kim minjeong has a rather peculiar mark on her neck. further examination will be performed once subject kim minjeong regains consciousness.

kim minjeong will be placed under doctor kwon [redacted]‘s care until further notice.

date: 16/01/30xx

—

there you were, observing the young woman’s unconscious body sprawled across table. a multitude of wires were attached to her, one particular one on her chest just below the collarbone. that specific wire was connected to a monitoring device, displaying the activity of her heart on a dusty and almost broken up screen, thanks to the military’s lack of investment, and also not giving a shit about the devices you scientists had to work with. each placement of different leads were positioned accordingly; every vital signe shown on the screen. she was somehow alive despite her predicament.

all signs showed that she was fine, but deep down you knew there was definitely something up with her.

the wavelength began to accelerate, which made your own heart drop out of sheer panic.

she was quickly regaining consciousness and you didn’t know what to do.

minjeong’s fingers twitched underneath the white polyester blanket that covered her bare body. you could see them moving one by one, each finger wriggling around as they struggled to find life. and for a split second, you swear you could see her eyes twitch.

as sick and twisted as it may be, seeing her sprawled out on the table had you thinking a few inappropriate things. she was out, unconscious as a person could get… so vulnerable under the thin and flimsy blanket. with her in mind, you huffed out a small unexplainable sigh.

without warning, her arm jolted suddenly. her muscles began to spasm for a few one second intervals until they both came to a stop.

and then, with a gasp, minjeong’s eyes snapped open. her body sprung up right, heavily panting, her bare chest heaving with deep breaths as she whipped her head around the dimly lit room.

“…hello?”

“hi…”

no amount of training could have prepared you for such a situation. a whole ass woman, who you thought was on the brink of death, was alive. a woman who was born a millennia ago right in front of your very eyes “there… might be a language barrier between us. do you understand what i’m saying?” you clutched the alien looking translation device in the palms of your hands, scanning over the subject for any signs of distress.

“where am i?” this girl looked around frantically, taking in the foreign surroundings. the wires were hooked onto the monitors that were connected to her body, the dimly lit turquoise coloured room, the constant beeping of her heart beat showcasing on one of the alien looking devices right next to her. all of it was creating a sense of disorientation and confusion. she had no idea where she was, what year it was. then there was you, standing behind the glass as your eyes shined bright in contrast to the darkness.

“maybe she’s simply disorientated…” you mutter under your breath. well, since she had just woken up from a one thousand year sleep, would it be alright to tell her the truth. “you- you’re inside a facility. the whole cryogenic free-“

“then where’s my money?” she abruptly interrupted you to ask one of her questions “where’s the one million i was promised? i need to get to my family” with a silent curse, minjeong ripped off the wires attached to her body, throwing the equipment onto the floor as she attempted to stand up from the table.

at least she understood you.

“hey, hey- no, don’t stand up yet. you’re going to be a little dizzy, well not little, but you’re going to fall over” opening the airlocked door to the examination room, hastily, you came to the woman’s side, holding her frigid shoulders with one swift movement of your arm “let me at least get you a wheelchair, and maybe some clothes”

“that would be nice. this room is freezing cold” minjeong shuddered under the room's iced temperature. the AC was on full blast in the dead of the night for some reason.

“honestly, that might just be because you’ve woken up from being frozen. you're chilled to the bone” you guided minjeong outside the examination room with your arm wrapped around her shoulder. it was a futile attempt to transfer over your body heat to her freezing body, but it was better than nothing. you were desperate to help her combat the cold that seemed to have seeped into her very bones.

you led minjeong further into the facility, guiding her gently, but firmly, into the long deserted corridors. eventually, the two of you had walked long enough, coming across a familiar faint and eerie glow from the flickering blue fluorescent overhead lights. whilst walking, you and minjeong hadn’t uttered one word. just awkwardly clearing your throat from time to time as you attempted to pry your eyes away from minjeong, who had your lab coat draped around her shoulders. you couldn’t help but notice how vulnerable she looked; goosebumps covering her entire body, exhausted, somewhat distant.

finally, you had made it to your destination. a locker room, and the much more technically advanced ones too. with biometric scanners for locks, uniform compartments and protective equipment and gear. this one also had a private stall for showers in case of a sudden outbreak of… something? well, anything really. sometimes random liquids could splash all over you, or maybe you just fell in some dirt on the way here.

“let’s hope that there’s extra clothing somewhere” your hand slid across minjeong’s bare back as you parted from her body. quickly, with your handprint identification, the door slid right open, lights flickering and steam hissing as it exited the now opened room “oh, this steam is just for sterilisation purposes, no need to worry”

minjeong simply nodded her head, moving carefully inside the futuristic locker room. the door slid shut as you stepped inside with minjeong, comfortably undoing your top button with one hand “not much of a talker, are you? neither am i, guess i’ll make it a little less uncomfortable by talking outside my comfort zone.”

the younger woman nodded once again. she seemed a little stiff, but that was to be expected. new environment, no people around except for the two of you, a whole new world that she wasn’t familiar with, and to repeat it again, she was naked “i’ll introduce myself later when i find you something to wear. now… let’s see”

nothing other than a few crinkled lab coats here and there. of course you felt bad, minjeong was practically on the verge of becoming hypothermic. the AC didn’t help either, but you couldn’t turn that off for safety reasons. luckily for you, in your own locker - which you should have checked in the first place, had a few of your more casual clothes in there. just a plain black shirt and plain black pants “will this do?”

after what seemed like an excruciating prolonged silence, minjeong had finally spoken up with a hushed voice - most likely because she hadn’t talked properly for god knows how long “enough with the yapping. i need the money for my family. that’s why i went and got myself frozen in the first place”

how could you tell a vulnerable girl that her family was dead, and that she had been kept safe in the military for a millennia without freaking her out?

“that- i can’t do that” you chewed your lip nervously “see, you’re inside a military and science facility”

she tilts her head in a confused manner. it made no sense to her unless she was tricked into some sick experiment. she doubted you for a second, scoffing at your face until she realised that maybe you were right.

“so i’ve been tricked. is that what you’re implying? i’ve been tricked into becoming a test rat?”

to assume you were going to use her for tests so unethical like that was crazy. though, you understood why she would come to such a conclusion.

“absolutely not. i don’t know the full story of how we ended up with these pods in our care, nor do i know why yours happened to break during this night. it’s never happened before”

her slender arms folded across her chest, leaning back on the wall as she assessed your body language. it seemed like she was ready to pounce. given her height in comparison to yours, it somehow frightened you “how do i know you’re not lying to me?”

“cctv footage of me walking into the room you were unconscious in” you reply back immediately.

“you got me there”

“that i did. anyway, i can assure you that i have no ill intentions whatsoever, so don’t worry about anything for now.” you tossed her your clothes, turning your back around to respect her privacy, then pointing towards the shower room where she could freshen up. until you realised that maybe the shower was most likely foreign to her as well.

as much as you wanted to help, you pushed down the idea of doing so. that was until she called you for help.

since it was the year 30xx, showers might have undergone a few technological advances. from what you could remember from reading articles about old earth, maybe showers now hadn’t gone through much changes within the span of those long years.

“jesus christ, just- just tell me what button switches this thing on. why would you need a button for aromatherapy? or holographic images? what is that for anyway, porn in the shower?” minjeong was an amusing person for sure. her crude comment made you chuckle for the first time in a couple of days. she was quite the character for someone who had woken up a mere 45 minutes ago, already showing such a colourful personality.

“it’s to scroll through information that we could have possibly missed while showering, but maybe some people use it for pornographic content” you turned the metal knob around, much like how the showers functioned back in the 2000’s. minjeong thought that it would be a tad more complex than that, but the shower was straightforward. one thing about these showers was that it immediately set itself to spray warm water rather than having to wait for ot to heat it. ‘huh, perks of being inside a scientist facility’ is what minjeong thought.

“pornographic content you say?” she cackled, slipping your un-ironed lab coat off, the fabric pooling onto the floor as she stepped inside of the shower “you’re so formal”

you spin around as fast as possible, eyes darting up towards the ceiling as minjeong stripped herself from the only thing that covered her naked body “sorry. i don’t talk that often… or to many people. i can be less formal if you like?”

“do what you want” drops of water splashing on the hard surface of the acrylic tiles created a soothing symphony of sounds, minjeong’s soft humming mingling with the rhythmic pitter-patter, the steam that flowed out of the stall caressed around the room in a warm and enveloping cloud and the noises of wet linen sliding against minjeong’s dampened skin distracted you from breathing.

“is the temperature to your liking?”

“it is. the water feels good on my skin”

loosen up doc, why are you so stiff and awkward?

you, an introverted scientist who preferred the company of work rather than social interactions made it difficult for you to respond back to her. your mind raced with a multitude of different things to say, but to your avail, all you could do was stand frozen in place, feeling helpless and out of your depth. the thought of talking to her or saying something witty flew right out of the window, replaced by the overwhelming awkwardness that weighed you down as if you were carrying bricks on your shoulders. you wanted to say something, literally anything, but your mouth failed you.

“how long was i asleep for…?” the younger woman sounded much more vulnerable than before. that veil of bravery slipping off her lonesome facade as she knocked on the glass door of the shower “can’t be that long right? i mean, the company said 10 years more or less from what i remember”

it was a hard pill to swallow, but you were never one to sugarcoat over anything, especially when it came to situations like this - unless you were lying to the overseers.

“do you want the hard truth?” minjeong reluctantly nodded, but obviously you couldn’t see that since your back was facing her.

“is it that bad?” you finally turn around, reluctantly, as you swallow saliva harshly down your throat.

yes it was that bad.

making yourself comfortable, and also readying yourself for any potential outburst, you pressed your back onto the wall, leaning against its smooth surface “how should i say this… well, for starters, do you see anything in particular that catches your eyes?”

“don’t play mind games with me. hurry up and give me the truth.” albeit impatient, minjeong browsed around the room, her eyes locking onto some sort of device and you follow suit. ah, the biometric scanners “i… i’m guessing i’m- no, we’re in the near future”

“unfortunately, no… we’re about-” the next words were spoken under your breath in a calming manner to ensure minjeong wouldn’t freak the fuck out “about one thousand years into the future”

minjeong’s eyes widen momentarily, looking at you with nothing but pure disbelief “one- one thousand…?”

the poor girl laid her back flush against the wet wall and slid down until she sat on the soaked acrylic tiles. she looked dejected. her body curled into a ball as she hugged her legs close to her chest, softly whimpering - which eventually turned into a full on sob. it broke your heart to see her in so much pain, wailing away her sorrows while clutching onto the wall in an attempt to compose herself, but nothing worked.

so with haste, you made your way towards her, sliding away the glass door until you too were soaked underneath the warm spray of water, focus remaining solely on the sobbing woman huddled on the floor. you were never the one to comfort people, but for minjeong’s sake, you knelt down onto the ground, embracing her as she cried away the pain.

no words were exchanged between the two of you for a while. the both of you held each other dearly, until minjeong’s cries came to a halt “so that means my family… my family is gone…”

“i hate to be the bearer of bad news, but unfortunately yes… to my knowledge, humans don’t live for more than one thousand years” your futile attempts of comforting brought minjeong back into another fit of pain and denial. her dainty fingers clutched onto the back of your white buttoned up shirt, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as she began to sob once more.

“on the brightside, you- uh, you’re safe and sound here… i’d like to fill you up- i mean fill you in with what’s happened over the course of your millennia long sleep, but only if you’re ready” your brief and unnoticed mistake caused you to slap yourself around your face, mentally.

thankfully minjeong didn’t catch onto your mistake, instead, she buried her head further, holding you closer and closer to her body “sorry, i’m not good at comforting people…” she only gave a quick nod before leaning back, looking you up and down as you let the warm water cascade down your face, and also soaking the clothes you were wearing.

“where am i supposed to go now? my family is gone, it’s one thousand years into the the future and i’m not getting my money's worth—“

suddenly, minjeong was cut off by the loud blaring of an emergency siren, followed by the piercing screech that startled the two of you in the shower. sounds of metal groaning eventually coming to a stop until it sounded again. doors being pried open by what seems to be a grotesque amalgamation of flesh was shown on one of the cctv cameras. thankfully, the video was caught on the camera right inside one of the multiple hallways, now the image of the thing treading with unsettling movements throughout the facility was being displayed on the holographic screen inside of the shower “…what the hell is that thing?”

“a mutant…”

you shot up from where you knelt down, urgently pulling minjeong out from the shower. to your left was a button. the button in question being slammed by your fist locked the locker room with a series of steel shutters falling from the ceiling.

“here, wear the clothes i gave to you. i’ll… dry myself up” as you threw the pile of clothes in minjeong’s direction, you threw off your soaked clothes and dried them up almost instantly with one of the much larger contraptions in the far corner of the room. once they were done drying, and you were now fully dressed again, you searched around the room for a weapon to protect yourself from that thing that seemed to run, or well, slide at high speeds towards a lone soldier “aw fuck, there goes officer lee” minjeong followed the direction of where you threw your clothes and followed suit, drying herself up, which went rather fast.

the bloodied scream echoed throughout the empty facility in the most eerie way possible. the flesh creature seemed to have broken a few bones in the poor soldier's body as the cracks happened to leak through the thick walls of the room… which was fairly strange considering the walls were thick as hell. the poor man's screams must have been loud enough for him to be heard like that.

minjeong, having no clue as to what was going on, stood behind you as she stayed frozen in place. what she had just seen on the cctv footage was a mutant, one of the more dangerous looking ones as well.

it’s body was composed of multiple corpses pulsating together in one disgusting ball of flesh and broken bones. the way it moved was uncanny, how it glided over floors leaving trails of slick and blood wherever it moved. not only that, but it barely had a face. could you even call it a face at that point? it’s mouth was a combination of multiple mouths from the fallen bodies melting together. the thing didn’t have a nose, well it did, but it was just two holes on it’s supposed ’face’. as for the eyes… it’s eyes were scattered all over it’s body. and if we were talking about limbs, you could say it had none, since they were all collectively melded together.

in one of the unlocked lockers was a new and improved weapon, a simple rifle that was kept solely for emergencies like these. unfortunately you were never the one to hold such weapons since this was completely out of your field, but minjeong, oh god, the woman took the gun out of your hands and held it with such precision that it rendered you speechless. she had the stance of a soldier, holding the gun in such a way that it impressed you given the fact that she was still adapting to a new world “what’s that thing's weak point?”

“don’t tell me you’re gonna shoot the damn thing with that gun?” you turn your head towards her, fascinated at her bravery.

“it beats letting it roam free”

“doesn’t have a weak point… it’s best if you incinerate it. since it looks like it’s a cluster of living people, i’m assuming it has multiple hearts and multiple organs” to your knowledge, the laboratory you work in holds a plasma gun, strong enough to melt its target “it would be risky to even leave this room right now. we need to stay put and-“

emergency alarms screeched throughout the locker room. lights flashed red as the damn mutant was prying itself through the tough steel that was keeping you two safe “fuck- get behind me” minjeong yelled, taking a step in front of you as she cocked the rifle, waiting for the moment the creature decided to slip inside the large gash in the wall.

you decided to stay quiet, watching as the thing squeezed itself through the cracks. although the creature was solid, the thing forced itself through the cracks, it’s body moved like liquid until it reformed back into its unnatural state. you’ve never ever seen such motion in a mutant before, and it was very worth studying for later breaches like this.

its body stretched upwards, sizing up the two of you as it readied its deformed mouth, unhinging its so-called jaw as if it was ready to engulf its prey.

minjeong ever so swiftly shot inside its mouth, rendering the mutant stunned for a couple of seconds. she took this time to escape with you, dragging your arm as you both ran down the long corridors “we need to get to my lab. there’s a plasma rifle somewhere in there. i-it’s probably our only chance of ridding ourselves from this thing”

“then lead the way”

body overrun with adrenaline, you ran for your life, swerving through corridor to corridor as the mutant chased behind you and minjeong. it’s erratic movement really threw you off. one moment the damn thing is on the ground, next thing you know and it’s sliding up and down the walls, trying to block off your exits.

finally, god- finally, you and minjeong made it towards the lab, losing the mutant for now. as you slam your fist onto a large red button, thicker sheets of metal slid down from the ceiling, sort of protecting you from the creature.

you laid flat on the floor, catching your breath, chest heaving up and down as you groggily looked towards minjeong who seemed completely fine. what was she? some kind of superhuman? minjeong stood her ground right in front of the door, checking if the mutant was about to break through the tough steel with its enormous body. and thankfully, a few minutes go by without a peep from outside.

“where’s that gun you were talking about?” still laying flat against the ground, you point towards a sleek black case on a desk right behind you.

“t-there… it’s in there” minjeong casually tiptoed her way towards the table, quiet enough so that the mutant that could potentially be outside couldn’t hear. with two hands carefully placed on each side of the case, she unclasped it slowly. the case opened with a click.

and there it was in all its glory. newly made, recently tested and proven its worth - a plasma rifle that was millions better than its previous models “does it work like a regular rifle?” as she picked the rifle up in her hands, she held her breath, observing the cold and smooth material. it seemed to hum with otherworldly energy, its alien technology unfamiliar to her felt terrifying yet thrilling.

“uh, yes? if you’re referring to the ones used back then, maybe no…?” after being glued onto the floor for god knows how long, you finally stand up with wobbly legs, stabilising yourself on a desk right besides you “well it’s got the trigger and everything else a rifle would need, so… i think it works the same! i-i don’t know. maybe test it out?”

“if i shoot it wrong, this is your fault”

minjeong slammed the button right beside the door, retracting the metal walls back into the ceiling. the cluttering caught the attention of the creature nearby, its body hurtling itself towards the sound. it moved at a disgustingly high velocity, the sheer force of its massive body colliding into the walls boomed throughout the facility as it couldn’t even keep up with its own speed.

the younger woman slowed down her breathing, focused solely on the mutant hurtling towards her direction. with unbreaking precision, minjeong quickly pulled the trigger.

after a few seconds, the creature bursted through the metal doors with a deafening roar. at this point, you thought you were about to die a horrible death. that was until you saw a bright indigo beam shoot right through the mutant’s body.

another beam was fired. then another beam, and another for good measure. multiple beams were shot into different parts of the things body. its bloodcurdling scream rang into your ears, causing you to momentarily become deaf. it screeched, wailed and flopped around until it finally came to a stop, becoming a heap of melted flesh and blood on the ground.

“what kind of future is this? minjeong’s breath wavered, staring directly at the gross, melted and burnt corpse, or well, corpses on the floor. she kicked it’s remains, the frail thing still sizzling away from the intense heat it just took in every vital part of its body.

“not a fun and bright one”

-

what seemed to be a long walk within the facility; flickering fluorescent lights illuminating your way towards the military’s housing units, you had explained what had happened in the past thousand years.

long story short, the world had been plunged into chaos when a nuclear war broke out. it all began with a world leader becoming unhinged and issuing threats to other countries, which quickly spiralled into World War Ill. in the years that followed after the catastrophe, the radiation from the bombs and the fallout continued to mess with the environment and society, turning things into radioactive sludge or infecting more than half of the population. this led to the military, in multiple different countries, to seize control and impose martial law. with their power, they prioritised scientific progress and advancements, hence why the scientists work so closely with the military… even though it seems as if the south korean military have recently been straying away from their main goals in the past few years.

“so, that thing that chased us down… did it, or did it not have a consciousness?” you didn’t have a definite answer to her question. it could have, it couldn't have. you couldn’t know for sure, and it would stay that way due to the fact that the mutant was already dead.

“can’t say for sure. but for my sanity and yours, i’ll say no” as you two continued to chat away, you stayed vigilant, scanning the surroundings for potential security threats. a soldier could walk past, security footage could be captured of you two and you didn’t like the thought of being caught with a person of the past, especially since you were treading around science and military ground.

every corner and hallway presented a new opportunity for someone to spot minjeong, so you kept your pace quick and light, opting to stay in the shadows rather than walking into the more brightly lit areas, or open spaces that could be monitored by the cctv cameras. despite your efforts, you still felt as though something, or someone, was watching you closely.

eventually the two of you made it back to your assigned room in the middle of the night. the door slid open as soon as you scanned your hand print, the same sterilised steam enveloped yours and minjeong’s body as you stepped inside your bleak grey room.

“make yourself comfortable” you say, stripping off your worn out lab coat, dumping the poor old fabric somewhere in the corner of your neglected room. settling down into the chair in front of your desk, you gesture for minjeong to step inside. the air was slightly dry, a reminder of how little you spent your time in the tight quarters the scientists called ‘home’.

“it’s a little… ahem- bland in here” she coughed out, wafting around her hand to circulate some air. she sat down on the grey mattress, sinking into the sort of dense material of your double bed. the poor thing had been left for god knows how long, evidently shown by a thin layer of dust having formed on every surface possible. there was no life in your so called bedroom, no pictures, no sense of personality whatsoever.

“i don’t spend a lot of time in here” you confess, taking out your slightly outdated laptop and turning the alien looking technology - from minjeong’s perspective, at least, from one of the empty storage boxes to your right.

“yeah. i can see clearly” her delicate fingers ran across the top of your beds headboard, collecting the dust underneath her fingertips “you seem like the person to sleep in a laboratory” scanning at your dishevelled appearance with a keen eye.

adjusting the screen of your laptop, you chuckle dryly “perceptive much” on some occasions, yes, you did tend to fall asleep on your desk, maybe even drool a little too. after all, you were basically up all night since the day you were assigned to this specific position given to you from one of the higher ups “and yeah, i have”

for other reasons you didn’t stay inside your own room. there were many explanations as to why; the room was a shockingly low temperature, the walls were surprisingly thin considering that the entire facility’s walls were made out of thick sheets of metal - and god, hearing the snores of over a hundred people, all collectively inharmonious and unbearably loud in a single night can drive a person off the walls.

so, if not for the room, where did you stay?

“i actually have another place. somewhere far out, that’s why it’s so dusty in here” minjeong hums, finally resting her weary body on the unused sheets. it was a long day, ironically. waking up from a deep sleep, to then take another after something rather traumatising happened not too long ago. she needed some shut eye.

“you still haven’t told me your name yet”

you reply almost instantly without looking at minjeong, fingers dancing across the keyboard as you began to write “it’s doctor kwon y/n. call me whatever you want”

“alright, doc” how cute.

personal log: no. 236

two interesting things happened over the course of this night.

one. a young woman called kim minjeong woke up from the cryogenic pods in section 02. don’t really know how that happened. the machine broke and it’s glass was shattered all over the damn floors, and the liquid was pooling everywhere…

poor girl was on the brink of permanent freezing, thank god i was there. from my understanding, and from lurking through the database, nothing like this had ever happened before. it was truly fascinating… studying her body like that. it’s not everyday that you see a living and breathing relic from one thousand years ago.

two. a weird mutant breached through the facility's walls. definitely need to talk to one of the higher ups about this in the morning.

lord, i mean the thing was disgusting. never seen a mutant like that before… it was moving so strange and so inhuman. like regular human mutants are, on most occasions, bipedal, but this thick fuck moved as if it was living slime. it had no damn legs?

not only that, but it’s whole body was composed of multiple mutant humans. anyway, one thing that stuck out was the way it seeped through the gap in the wall. how do i explain this? well for starters, it shaped itself and moved like liquid, and fuck? it can stick onto walls and run, no, slide at an alarming speed.

it’s best if i study both that mutant and minjeong.

signing off.

kwon [redacted].

date: 16/01/xxxx

—

concentrated on your next task of filing an incident report to send in for the morning, you failed to notice the soft sobs from the younger woman laid flat on your bed. as minjeong clutched the thin blanket, her face pressed against the dense pillow, she tried her very best to hold in the tears left from earlier inside the shower. after the events that took place a few minutes ago, she was subjected to her own thoughts once again. her family, friends, colleagues and the people of the past were all gone.

a distant memory…

seriously though. how could you make her feel better about a situation like this? many thoughts racked in that smart brain of yours, but none of them seemed good enough to comfort someone who was mourning the loss of multiple long gone lives. the only option left was to comfort her physically, which wasn’t your forte.

so, having to take a quick shower, scrubbing down your body head to toe so you don’t smell like sweat and coffee, you leave the bathroom with a thin veil of mist trailing behind. the immediate transition from the cosy warmth of the shower to the biting cold of your bedroom left goosebumps on your skin.

minjeong, who’s eyes were red from all the crying, looked up at you curiously “are you seriously going to sleep next to me?”

“i mean, it’s my bed. plus, i don’t know how to comfort you, so this is my best attempt at it” minjeong simply huffed, moving aside the blanket to fit you right next to her.

taking up her invitation, you awkwardly shuffle into your bed despite it being your own. the rustling of your clothes, the soft breathing coming from minjeong, and the heat radiating off her body brought more tension to the room, more than you were used to. you wondered if sleeping next to her was making her feel less lonely, but really, the whole thing was a stupid idea.

on the inside you were panicking, keeping up a calm and collected facade whilst you discarded one thought for another terrible one. she was alone in a new world, and you wanted to at least alleviate the emptiness she was experiencing, but how? a hand rested on minjeong’s shoulder, squeezing it in a way to somehow console the poor woman.

“i know you’re feeling an unexplainable amount of pain, however-” not to sound like a broken record, but again, you were never the best at comforting people. besides the point, you had to try either way, and thankfully your knowledge and studies surrounding neurosciences helped massively “did you know that, uh- that there’s various chemicals that can reduce stress and are associated with positive emotions”

minjeong’s curiosity piqued, listening intently as she still sniffled time to time while she stayed wrapped in your blanket on her now claimed side of the bed.

“dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin. those are the three feel good hormones that are released during… certain activities”

besides the obvious implications, minjeong tilted her head in a way that made your heart skip. she seemed so vulnerable, too much for your poor heart to take. it took her a while to understand what you were hinting at, but she eventually got the memo as you continued to explain what you were referring to with a flustered expression, hiding behind the blankets as if it minjeong was the one to bring it up first.

“what?” she chuckled at your beet red face “don’t get all shy now. you suggested it”

“no, no i didn’t suggest anything. i-i was only just informing you about it since you were clearly upset, and i wanted to see if you would want to try since i couldn’t figure out another way for you to feel better…” in all honesty, there were much better ways to go around this situation. maybe offering minjeong the money she was promised, but then again, where would she use the money “okay, maybe i was suggesting it. but we don’t need to do anything that makes you uncomfortable-“

“i’ve got nothing to lose anyway. sure, let’s do it” despite her strained voice due to her sobs, her softly spoken confidence impressed you “i might as well take up the offer anyway. take my mind off what’s happened since i woke up i guess…”

a lump formed in your throat.

“wait, what?”

to say you were shocked was an understatement.

“oh come on, you suggested it. don’t tell me you’re going to back up now, damn” minjeong seemed to be looking forward to this, but god would she be disappointed if she found out you were a virgin “unless. don’t tell me you’re a…”

“what? no, it’s not like- well it is like that. see i don’t have the time for all that stuff you know. i’ve been studying and working almost all my life” you confess with a hint of embarrassment.

“jesus christ” in a way, minjeong was slightly frustrated, but it couldn't be helped. though, she found it rather amusing how easily you say things without considering to stop and think “it’s like you’re trying to blue ball me. i was expecting a little something from you, doc”

“then what can i possibly do with little expertise? i’m not going to dive in head first into some uncharted territory, minjeong”

“why do you make it sound like it’s so complicated? ‘uncharted territory’… doc, i’m sure you’ll be alright” minjeong gave you a reassuring smile - a genuine one too, slowly peeling away the thin blanket from her clothed body.

sex really wasn’t often the main focus in your life. every time you had such thoughts, you’d push them into the deepest parts of your mind, allowing yourself to focus on much more important and pressing matters. maybe this is why you never had many close friends as well. always pushing them away in favour of continuing your research and studies. but now was your chance to try something you’ve never done before.

…and you were about to have sex with minjeong, who seemed to have caught your attention a little too much.

“i’ll try my best”

first of all, was it you topping her or vice versa? given what you had said earlier, it was most likely you doing all the work. after all, you were the one to lightly hint at it.

if you could, you would’ve looked up on how to ‘initiate sexual intercourse in the least awkward way possible’, but alas, it was too late for your poor self—

“don’t keep me waiting, doc” without hesitation, minjeong took off the shirt you lent, throwing the balled up fabric mindlessly in some neglected corner once she had straddled your thigh “someones gotta help me release those feel good hormones, or whatever you said earlier” with the absence of her shirt, her tits were exposed to the cold air. her pretty pink and puffy nipples out for you to ogle at. shit.

you didn’t exactly know where to look, nor what to do. the added pressure of minjeong’s body trapping you between her small body and your dense bed had rendered you speechless. so this was step one, what comes next. from what you had overheard in a colleagues conversation, the next step would be to maybe kiss her? or would it be to touch her body?

your hands seemed to stutter as you carefully hovered your clammy palms above minjeong’s chest. a part of you wanted to go for it immediately, this was of course your first time anyway. but another part in you held back. it was nerve racking to say the least.

minjeong stared at you with doe like eyes, anticipating for what comes next. although it took you quite a while to figure out what part comes first, then what part comes after the first part and so forth “my god. just touch me, damn” she huffed, grabbing your hand and pressing your palm flat against her tits.

at a loss of words, you froze for a good few seconds before feeling your face immediately heat up. your eyes flicked down from where she had placed your hand then back to her face, then back down again. certain things had a set way of executing stuff, so to have your hand cupped against her chest was surprising, yet not unwelcomed at all. just… it kind of threw you off guard. you thought you should have kissed her first before anything really.

“s-shouldn’t i kiss you, then place my hand on your boobs?” you admit, you sounded like an absolute buffoon in front of her, but hey, not your fault for thinking that there was an order you should follow.

minjeong simply scoffed “pft- no? i’m no prude. but if you want that, then go ahead. come and kiss me” before you knew it, minjeong pulled you upwards, throwing her arms around your shoulders. for her height and size, she was surprisingly kind of strong.

“wait, i don’t know how to do that either” you were too nervous to even think about kissing her, the thought alone made you flustered beyond belief. however, too afraid to disappoint her, inch by inch, you came closer to her face, her hot breath fanning against your quivering lips.

it should’ve been you doing all that work, not minjeong manoeuvring you to her will. you were supposed to be the one to take control instead of her. but besides that, you strengthened your resolve, shaking off the anxiety that caused you to behave like a wuss, which was in fact not like you at all. much like the movies you watched, you shut your eyes as you closed the gap between you and minjeong. for a brief second minjeong hesitated, but with time, the two of you shared a rather delicate and sweet kiss.

“was… was that okay?” it was a quick and innocent peck on her lips. minjeong chuckled, stroking your jaw with her hand before tilting your head to the side by your chin.

“how about you follow my lead instead” thumb resting on top of your lower lip, minjeong parted your mouth open. leading from where you stopped, minjeong kisses you slow and soft, savouring the taste of your lips. she caught your bottom lip in her teeth ever so gently, moving towards you again to kiss you with a much needed intensity this time. your hand was still rested on her chest, clearly not knowing exactly what to do with them. noticing this, minjeong guides your hands, squeezing her hand around yours to mimic the action of you doing it to her.

the contact alone made you groan. her boobs were nice and soft, modest, but they fit perfectly in the palm of your hands. the sensation they provided was so much more better than you had ever imagined. and without guide from minjeong, your hands instinctively moved across her body; drawing circles on her back, sliding your hands up and down the sides of her body, occasionally coming back up to her boobs to tease her sensitive nipples all while you let her savour your lips.

minjeong momentarily pulled away, stroking a few strands of hair away from your face “that’s it doc… just like that” her approval felt great to hear, made you more motivated, more confident in your actions “shit… mhm…” she groaned against your lips, pressing herself against your thigh as she rocked her hips back and forth.

this kiss gradually turned passionate. with you not knowing how or what to do, your teeth had accidentally clashed into hers briefly, but that didn’t deter her from carrying on. minjeong felt the need to take more from you, eagerly pushing her tongue inside your mouth to deepen this kiss, which in return, had you whipering pathetically. minjeong thought that your reaction was utterly adorable; she needed to hear more of those sounds.

upon your reaction, you pushed minjeong back a little. what came out of your mouth was entirely unexpected, and it kind of shocked you at how submissive you really did sound “s-sorry… it felt a little weird. but not a bad weird, you know. more like a, uh, tingly sensation”

“that usually means that what i’m doing is good. i take pride in my kissing skills thank you very much” despite the view in front of you, you couldn’t take your mind off of something else. between her thighs was a slightly damp sensation right on top of your own thigh. a small grin, a rather mischievous one, played across her face, giving her the expression of someone who had something up their sleeve.

whatever she was doing right now in the moment already had you a mess. what she had in mind would most likely have you confused, aroused, but definitely lost.

“move your hand down” she commanded. minjeong didn’t like to play around, always the type of girl to get what she wanted. you didn’t know that of course, but whatever, you obeyed anyway.

extremely hot and slippery was the only way you could describe what you felt in her lower regions. curious as ever, your fingers explored her covered pussy as if you hadn’t touched one before, because you haven’t. even though your touch was as light as a feather, the volume of her moans that fell from her lips sent your body into a temporary freeze. it was okay, you were okay. more than okay really. you were ecstatic.

honestly, you thanked yourself for turning off the bedside lamp. if it wasn’t for your hatred of a single shred of light whilst you were sleeping, minjeong would have seen your joyous smile in its full glory. now you were riled up, and it was evident in the way you glided your finger up and down her slit, her wetness clinging to your skin, enveloping them in a sticky warm mess.

it wasn’t like you to become so easily obsessed with something so quickly, but the way minjeong rolled her hips as soon as your fingers made contact with her throbbing heat had your head spinning around in circles “fuck— you said you were inexperienced doc. what’s with the sudden boost of confidence”

you didn’t quite understand it yourself, but there was something enchanting about minjeong. kind of like how sirens would lure their prey in with their looks, or their voices. either way, the comparison made sense in your head. she was naturally alluring, and it seemed like she knew about that “don’t know” you muttered, fingers pressing against a certain spot that piqued your curiosity “maybe it’s the fact that i’m interested in your body. it feels good to touch you down here specifically… it’s throbbing”

“my clit?” a smirk played on her lips, slowly grinding her swollen clit against the tips of your fingers, much like she was doing previously on your thigh.

“clitoris is the right term” after correcting her, you were too focused on the rolling of her hips to notice that you groaned out loud. and as a response, minjeong chuckled.

“you’re so unsexy. just use the word clit” her attitude prompted you to roll your eyes in slight annoyance.

“alright then. your clit is throbbing. was that any better?” all while you bickered with minjeong, your fingers never stopped moving, and neither did her hips. eventually the thin layer of cloth that kept you away from touching her directly, was moved aside by your hurried hand “you know what. just take of your pants”

“i’ll do you one better” her weight shifted off your body for a while as she fumbled with taking off the pajama pants you lent her. shortly after she threw the item of clothing next to the shirt she dumped off into the corner, her panties followed straight after. once again, minjeong was completely naked, and above you, straddling your hips with that grin she had that left you in a hot mess “i think you should use that mouth of yours” she spoke low, shuffling over to hover above your face with both of her thighs placed comfortably on each side of your head. her glistening pussy was right in your field of view, and frankly, you couldn’t fathom what was about to happen next. to answer her question, you simply hummed, caressing her thighs in languid strokes.

“what if i suck at this though?” there was a hint of insecurity in your tone, but minjeong was confidently sure that you were able to please her well enough. she trusted her intuition, and hoped you wouldn’t disappoint.

“i doubt. all you have to do is suck, lick, kiss and maybe even use your fingers if you’re feeling frisky. you’ll be fine” you weren’t fine. that sudden boost of confidence didn’t last long enough for you to do something as wild as this. yet you found yourself instinctively darting your tongue out with a subtle nod, inviting minjeong to take a seat on your face “eager aren’t you… just keep your tongue out like that for me doc”

time seemed to slow down once her soaked pussy made contact with your tongue, and my god did she taste divine. at this point you could feel your own heartbeat pounding in your chest and your mind filled with nothing but a need to pleasure the lonesome woman that sat right on top of your mouth, gyrating her hips to her desired speed.

it started off as minjeong simply using your mouth to get herself off, but you couldn’t bear not to do something to help her out. as she said a few minutes ago, you planted your lips on her heat, a few kitten licks around minjeong’s aching pussy, feeling around her dripping folds as you hummed in satisfaction as a response to her flavour “ah… that feels— fuck, that feels good. keep going, you’re doing amazing” continuing to lap around her folds, tasting the sweet and warm essence that dripped from her hole all the way down to your chin as you greedily chased it with your tongue, minjeong squirmed her body around in ecstasy; a tight grip on the headboard turned her knuckles white from the overwhelming force. a means to ground herself.

“s-shit… focus more on my clit, please” you obliged almost immediately, shifting focus on where she needed it the most. sliding your tongue from her lips all the way up to her overly sensitive clit, you gave her a quick suck, just as she had mentioned, earning a light moan that sent shivers down your spine. the more you brushed over with your tongue, the more minjeong whined and whimpered.

each moan that rolled from her lips encouraged you to increase the delicious friction your mouth could only provide “mhm, that’s it doc… keep sucking my clit like that…”

crude as it was, and how much those words affected you; after all, your eyes rolled as she moaned those words out with a breathy sigh, you began to lap around with hunger as if you had an appetite that couldn’t be satiated.

words muffled against the heat of her mound, you spoke after a long while of staying silent - since your focus was directed towards satisfying her needs “mmm, like this?”

you couldn’t see her nodding her head, but with the way she let out those decadent moans of hers, it was clear that she was enjoying the moment.

for some reason you decided this alone wasn’t enough for the grieving woman, so with your new found knowledge in terms of sex, your hand made way towards her slit, massaging her folds with your middle and index finger.

again with the frantic nodding. minjeong felt like she was enveloped in total bliss, forgetting about the people in the past and focusing on your fingers pushing inside her tight pussy “hhng… fuck. your fingers are so- they’re so long”

minjeong’s fleshy walls clenched around your fingers, practically trapping you there. it was hard to explore around with how tight she was, but eventually, as you started to feel around with your two fingers, stretching minjeong’s tight and pretty pussy, your ability to comfortably push in and out of her hole became much more easier.

with your lips closing around her clit, fingers pumping in and out with fervour; so fast, and rough that it was hard to believe that you were a virgin with absolutely no experience with sex whatsoever, made minjeong shamelessly moan your name for the first time ever.

“my god… oh my god, y/n. you’re so fucking good at this” a familiar tightness formed in the pit of minjeong’s stomach; a coil that was about to break from the sheer amount of pleasure jolting through her entire body. out of nowhere, you slammed the palm of your hand against her skin, fingers hitting her g-spot in rhythmic thrusts.

“is this spot good? does it hurt?” you were a tad worried about minjeong. the poor woman couldn’t usher out a sentence with how much she was feeling. the stimulation on her hardened clit, your fingers hitting every single spot that she couldn’t do herself, your muffled groans and sighs as your mouth paid special attention to her sensitive parts. it made her lose her mind.

to answer your question, minjeong whined out an almost inaudible “no”. her legs squeezed around your head as a way to tell you not to stop, to keep up what you were doing until she was satisfied. but with her legs trapping you between her thighs, you couldn’t properly breathe. did that stop her? no it didn’t. and did it stop you? absolutely not. you were determined to bring her to her edge; sucking, licking, kissing against her overly sensitive clit while your weary fingers kept on pounding relentlessly inside of her.

after what felt like an eternity, minjeong fell silent for a good couple of seconds before chanting your name out like a mantra “y/n… oh my fucking god, y/n- i’m.. i’m gonna cum. a-ah… fuck, i’m gonna cum-“ her hands that gripped onto the headboard immediately tangled themselves in your hair, pushing your head upwards and into her pussy as she convulsed on top of you. as she came, her thighs clamped down on the sides of your head and you swore you could’ve heard your jaw popping out of place from the pressure.

“haa… mmm… y/n~” she whined, languidly rocking her hips against your fingers and tongue as she rode out her intense high.

a few moments of silence went by. minjeong eventually stopped in her tracks and dropped onto your mattress right next to your body “m-minjeong?” you tapped her face. she wasn’t responding “hey, minjeong?” you checked her pulse, her breathing and everything until you came to the conclusion that she had passed out from both exhaustion and from her orgasm.

you snapped out of your haze, wiped her juices of your face and chin after you had tasted it once again. what an unforgettable flavour.

fatigue now coursing through your own body, you had to get up and do something urgent first before your tired body eventually stopped moving. rustling around in your bedside drawer, you pull out a packaged syringe and an empty tube “don’t wake up. please…” with one hand wrapped around minjeong’s upper arm, slightly cutting off her blood circulation, her veins began to protrude, allowing you to safely insert the needle into one of the more prominent looking veins.

you could’ve honestly asked her about taking a sample of her blood when she was conscious, but you figured out that she might have grown suspicious as to why.

lets just say that your personal and private work wasn’t ethical. and for that reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell minjeong what you were going to plan to do with that sample of her blood if she ever asked.

—

morning came by quickly.

unfortunately the sun didn’t shine through your windows as your room was basically a metal box composed with a bed, a desk, a chair and a closet. every morning here in the facility was so bland and boring. highly depressing too. imagine waking up almost every day here. you’re surprised none of the scientists were sick of it.

but anyway. you knew it was early morning since your alarm clock woke you up from a strange dream, and how you heard the chatter of many scientists walk past your room's door.

you turn your head to the side, expecting minjeong to be gone, but she was still there, chest rising up and down as she breathed softly in your bed.

taking the time to freshen up from the activities the two of you shared a hours ago; you take a quick shower, brushed your teeth and hair, threw on a clean pair of clothes and a newly ironed lab coat to get ready for another excruciatingly boring day in the laboratory. but before you decided to wake minjeong up, you needed to file that incident report.

incident report form

date of report: 17/01/30xx

full name: kwon y/n

person(s) involved: 2

location: section 02 to 03 of the science department.

time: 12:36am

describe the incident: new mutant species, possibly class A, broke into facility 03 and chased me until i reached laboratory 0201 in section 02. used the untested plasma rifle to exterminate said mutant.

mutant species seems to be a combination of multiple human mutants, and has multiple vital points in its body. runs at high speeds, can break through metal with ease, can squeeze into smaller cracks and holes without damaging its body.

unfortunately the cctv cameras briefly caught the mutant on tape.

was anyone injured?: yes.

if yes, describe the injuries: soldier patrolling around section 03 had broken limbs. was consumed by the mutant shortly after. no remains left at the scene.

were there any witnesses to the incident?: no

—

minjeong stirred awake shortly after you sent in the report. there was a stinging sensation in her left arm, but she paid no mind to it. maybe it was because of how intense the night was that her body was aching everywhere.

“good morning” you yawn, swivelling around the seat as you face minjeong. you chuckle at her appearance; her hair messy, tired eyes and naked with the blanket draped around her small shoulders “you woke up just in time. i finished writing the incident report and the overseers emailed me immediately after”

half asleep, minjeong hummed and tucked herself underneath the blanket “mmm… what did they say?” she spoke in a gravelly manner, which was to be expected since she had just woken up.

“they said i can take the day off. only thing is, i can’t leave you here. so you’re coming with me” your words didn’t register in minjeong’s sleepy mind. she only responded with another hum before rolling over onto her tummy, closing her eyes “no seriously. you can’t be left alone here. i don’t want anyone finding you outside of your pod”

“mmfh… okay~”

—

it took a while for minjeong to fully wake up and get dressed, but after she was done tying her shoe laces, you briefly explained how you were going to leave the facility undetected “the scientists don’t usually leave the labs until it’s lunch time, so we’ll use that to our advantage” most of your colleagues stayed put in their stations, slaving away until they were tired and needed a well deserved break whenever they needed one, unless one of the overseers tells them to get back to their research “usually i hitch a ride whenever i enter the city. a bunch of locals i’ve made acquaintances with take me to where i need to go if i don’t have a car. so really, the only issue we have is that i need to get you out of here without people getting suspicious”

“or maybe i could pose as a scientist. or maybe a soldier that’s guiding you towards the city for research purposes” minjeong suggested. to be honest, that was a good idea. the military inside the facility didn’t really care all too much about scientists anyway. and also you were trusted amongst your peers and the rest of the military. that trust enabled you to roam freely within, and outside the building. in the case you needed an assistant scientist with you, they would need an ID.

“actually yeah. that’ll work. means we don’t need to sneak around the place then” you toss minjeong a lab coat and a spare fake id you had rotting away in your dusty drawer just in case a situation like this would occur.

and with that, you two were set to go.

a/n: if you spot any mistakes pls tell me 😭 i did read through the fic this time so i’m hoping there’s none… and if there is i’m going to kms </3

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[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (steddie fic)

saw this post and was inspired to write something angsty <3

The first thing Eddie is aware of when he wakes up, before he even opens his eyes, is the dull, aching pain throbbing through pretty much his entire body. The second thing he’s aware of is that someone is holding his hand. 

“Eddie?” The hand in his tightens its grip as Eddie begins to stir; the voice it presumably belongs to sounds immeasurably relieved, yet only vaguely familiar. 

Eddie groans. His eyelids flutter, blinking awake, and he groggily rolls his head to the side to get a look at whoever had spoken. 

The voice sighs again, “Oh thank god-” 

“Harrington?” Eddie’s eyes fly open wide now as they land on the mystery man sitting beside him on the edge of the bed - a man he most definitely is not close enough with to be holding his hand, and a bed that is most definitely not his own. He snatches his hand away. “What the hell are you doing? Where am I?”

“Ed-” Another man’s voice, this one just as relieved and infinitely more familiar. It fills Eddie with relief too as he looks to his other side to find his uncle Wayne rising from a nearby chair to come up next to him. 

“Wayne, what-?” His surroundings are becoming more clear. “What happened? Why am I in a hospital? And why the fuck is King Steve at my bedside?” Eddie tries to sit up only to gasp and wince in pain as the dull ache in his sides sharpens to near agony at the movement. 

“Take it easy, son.” Wayne’s hand lands on his shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back down onto the pillows. “You were hurt real bad.” 

“Yeah, I got that,” Eddie grumbles out. He sucks in a deep, intentional breath and exhales slowly, the pain beginning to dull again now that he’s settled. His questions are still largely unanswered, though. Blank mind reaching desperately for any logical piece to this bizarre puzzle, he turns an accusing glare to Harrington. “Did you land me in here? Is that why you’re here, some sort of weird guilt thing?” 

Harrington’s looking at him like a kicked puppy. “What? No, I-” he falters, takes a shaky breath and swallows painfully like he’s trying not to cry. “You don’t remember?” 

“I don’t remember what? Will someone just tell me what happened?” Eddie’s confusion is rising more and more into agitation with every second he remains without an explanation. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Harrington asks quietly.

“I was driving home from school, just found out I wasn’t gonna graduate again.” Eddie frowns as he thinks back, still trying to put pieces together. “Did I crash my car? Is that it? I was emotional and not paying attention and got into an accident?” 

Yet again, he receives no answers. 

“Eddie, what month is it?” Wayne asks instead, his tone dangerously measured and serious. “What year?” 

“May…” Eddie says warily, “1985.”

His words hold a weight he doesn’t understand, landing heavy on the others in the room and thickening the air. It sends a chill of dread down his spine, the way his answer etches concern deep into the lines of Wayne’s face, the way Steve Harrington seems to take it like a blow to the chest. 

Harrington exhales sharply as if he’s been punched, standing abruptly and taking a few stumbling steps back. Wayne says, “It’s April of ‘86, Ed.”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. “No. No, it can’t be.” 

“I’m gonna go tell the nurse you’re awake,” Harrington mumbles, his voice strained and his eyes glassy with barely held-back tears. 

“I’ll go,” Wayne offers, pushing himself away from Eddie’s bed. He gives Harrington a meaningful look, though what that meaning is, Eddie can’t decipher. 

Harrington turns his devastated gaze to the older man. “But, Wayne, he doesn’t-” 

“I know, kid.” Wayne gives a sad smile and places a sympathetic hand on Harrington’s shoulder as he passes by. “Just talk to him.” 

Eddie is thrown off by this familiarity between them. Since when were those two close? He feels like he’s entered some sort of parallel universe where everything is just ever so slightly wrong. It leaves an itch beneath his skin, uncomfortable and out of place, like he no longer quite fits in his own body, in his own life. He’s lost 11 months, apparently, and this world is no longer his; he doesn’t know where he fits into it anymore. 

Wayne leaves the room, and Eddie wants to protest: Don’t leave me here with this guy I don’t know in this time I don’t know, please, you’re the only thing that feels safe and familiar! Anxiety is crawling through him like a thousand tiny bugs in his veins. He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he wants to run. Anything to shake this feeling loose. But he’s confined to this bed, trapped both by his pain and by all these machines he’s hooked up to, and he sure as shit isn’t going to have a breakdown in front of Steve goddamn Harrington. 

Instead, Eddie resigns himself to this situation and casts a sideways glance at Harrington who very much looks like he’s also trying not to have a breakdown. “I’m freaking out, man,” Eddie says finally, hating how shaky and pathetic his voice sounds. “I swear to god, Harrington, if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on…” 

Harrington worries his lip between his teeth as he hesitates. “It’s a lot to explain.” 

“Yeah, I bet,” Eddie scoffs out a humorless laugh. “I’m missing nearly an entire year, of course it’s a lot to fill in. Unless I’ve been here this whole time?” 

“No.” Harrington shakes his head. “No, you’ve only been here about a week. I- I don’t know why you’re missing so much time, the whole Vecna thing only started like a week before that-” 

“Vecna?” Eddie interrupts to question. “What does any of this have to do with the D&D campaign I was planning? And, also, how the fuck do you know about that?” 

Harrington closes his eyes for a second and takes a breath, like having this conversation is the most painful thing he’s ever had to do. “I’m not talking about D&D, Ed. Vecna was a real-life monster from a real-life alternate dimension we called the Upside-Down. The kids only called him Vecna because we didn’t know who he was at the time and he, like, cursed people before he killed them, but he was actually Henry Creel, which is a whole other fucked up story.”

“Okay…” Eddie doesn’t know who ‘the kids’ are and he’s skeptical of the way Harrington talks so factually about monsters and dimensions and curses existing in the real world, but he does remember his uncle telling him stories about the demonic tragedy of the Creel family, which is the only thing that makes any of this even halfway believable. It still doesn’t explain how Eddie wound up in the hospital with his entire body feeling like it’d been run through a blender, though, or why the former king of Hawkin’s High was hovering over his sickbed. He gestures for Harrington to continue. 

“I never wanted you to get involved in all this Upside-Down shit,” Harrington’s voice breaks. He steps closer to Eddie’s bed again, and he looks so so sad as he stares down at him that it makes Eddie’s own heart ache, just a little bit. Harrington’s hand twitches at his side as if he means to reach out for Eddie but then thinks better of it, running the hand through his hair instead as he continues, “I tried to keep you from it for so long, I really did, but then Vecna killed Chrissy in your trailer and the whole town blamed you and you were just a part of things then, there was no getting around it. You helped us fight him - Vecna. You kept his army of bats off our ass while we weakened his body and El weakened his mind. If it weren’t for you we never would’ve defeated him and we certainly wouldn’t have all made it out alive.” Harrington’s gaze softens, as does his voice, his next words almost a whisper, “You were a hero, Eddie.” 

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Eddie says, like that’s the least plausible part of Harrington’s story. And, really, it is. He can wrap his mind around a lot of things: a murder in his trailer - sure, Forest Hills always was a shady place; the whole town accusing him of being a killer - yeah, of course, that tracks; even an evil wizard from another dimension with an army of bats - fine, okay, why the hell not. But Eddie Munson is no hero, and he’s definitely not any sort of fighter either.

“No, you never did think so, did you?” Harrington mutters with a sad sort of fondness and the barest trace of a wistful smile. “But it’s true. Dustin was in danger and you didn’t even think twice. You ran right into the fray without a second thought, sacrificed yourself so that the rest of us might survive. Those bats nearly killed you, b-” he breaks, choking on whatever word he was going to say. His eyes swim with yet more unshed tears. “I almost thought they had killed you, you know. I thought you were dead when I carried you out of the Upside-Down,” he admits shakily, choked up and barely managed, “and even when I brought you here and you were stable, I was still so scared you wouldn’t wake up…” 

Eddie doesn’t know how to react to any of that information or to such a display of emotion. His own hands twitch now with the urge to reach out and comfort him, but he too denies that instinct. He tries for humor instead, something lighter, cracking a grin and teasing, “Aw, Stevie, I didn’t know you cared.” 

Harrington makes a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh. “Oh, Ed, you have no idea.” 

“We were friends then, weren’t we?” Eddie guesses now, carefully. It’s rapidly becoming the only possible explanation for the guy’s behavior around him. “Before all the Vecna stuff?”

“Yeah,” Harrington manages, forcing a small, sad smile as his eyes finally overflow and streak his cheeks with tears. “Yeah, we were good friends.” 

~

Wayne reenters the room then with a nurse in tow, and Steve quickly turns away and rubs his hands over his face. He needs to pull himself together; he can’t break down right now, not yet, not here. 

He listens, distantly, as the nurse asks Eddie a bunch of questions and then tells the rest of them that she needs to take him in for some tests to determine the cause and prognosis of Eddie’s amnesia. He watches, numbly, as she wheels Eddie’s entire bed out of the room. 

Steve can barely hear, barely see, his emotion clouding his eyes and roaring in his ears. He stares blankly through the open doorway and struggles to swallow down the ever-rising lump in his throat. 

Wayne’s voice rumbles from somewhere beside him, but he can’t quite make out the words. “What?” 

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Wayne says, the sound reaching Steve’s ears a little clearer now. “I asked if you were alright.” 

Steve shakes his head. His voice comes out coarse and raw, “‘Course I’m not alright.” 

“Right, ‘course you’re not,” Wayne echoes. He follows Steve’s mournful gaze to the door Eddie had disappeared through. “What did you tell him?” 

“Told him he was a hero,” Steve croaks, “...and that we were good friends.”

“Ah…” Steve’s vision is so blurred behind a thick layer of tears he can’t see the sympathetic frown on the old man’s face, but he knows it’s there. “At least he’s alive, kid,” Wayne tries to be comforting. “You can always start over.” 

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t- I don’t want to start over, I just want-” Steve chokes back a sob. He just wants Eddie.

It’s a horrible thought, but Steve almost thinks that this just might be worse than if Eddie really had died… Because how is Steve supposed to handle the fact that his boyfriend of 9 months no longer knows him? How is he supposed to cope now that the love of his life looks right at him and no longer sees him?

He closes his eyes, presses the heels of his palms into his eyelids, inhaling a shaky breath and exhaling an even shakier sigh. Steve whispers, “It feels like I’m losing him all over again.” 

(part two is here!)

(also on ao3)

[deunmiu-dessie]

ⅷ▬ ⁽ 𝒶𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓃 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ��︎ : ₈˖₅ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : unedited, plot, alien/human, fluff, nim'xen is a simp, he falls first and then falls harder. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : no smut, but! a cute little unfinished one-shot of mine.

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: on the way home from the store, the unthinkable happens.

꒰male!alien ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

“Breaking News: Massive Asteroid Comes Dangerously Close to Earth, Scientists Unaware Until Hours Later.

In a stunning turn of events, a colossal asteroid, previously known as ZTFoDxQ but now identified as Asteroid QG, narrowly missed colliding with Earth. The planet-sized asteroid made its closest-known approach to our planet on Sunday at 12:08 a.m. EDT, coming within a mere 1,830 miles. This remarkable event marks the closest asteroid flyby ever recorded, where the celestial object managed to survive the encounter unscathed, as confirmed by NASA.

However, the surprises didn't end there. Just this afternoon at 1:00 p.m., reports have emerged that a fragment of the asteroid has broken off and penetrated Earth's atmosphere. The exact location of impact is currently being evacuated as a precautionary measure. 

 Scientists are scrambling to analyze the data and understand how such a massive asteroid managed to come so close to Earth without being detected until hours later. The lack of awareness has raised concerns about the effectiveness of current asteroid detection systems and the potential risks posed by near-Earth objects.

NASA and other space agencies around the world are now working to improve their monitoring and detection capabilities to prevent similar surprises in the future. The incident has also sparked discussions about the need for increased funding and resources for asteroid detection and deflection efforts.

As the world watches in awe and relief at the near miss, the incident serves as a stark reminder of the potential dangers lurking in space and the importance of continued vigilance in monitoring the skies for potential threats. Stay tuned for further updates on this developing story.” 

3 months later

“Can you do me a favor, sweetheart?”

Interrupting your peeling, you raised your eyes from the bowl of potatoes, freezing the peeler in your hand. You cast a frustrated glance at her, your annoyance thinly veiled behind a strained smile. You were already handling most of the cooking for the evening, so what more could she want from you?

Interpreting your insincere smile as a signal of agreement, she resumed her task of tending to the bubbling broth on the stove, deftly chopping the carrots and watching them plunge into the savory liquid with a satisfying plop. "Your sister's going on a trip tomorrow and I totally spaced on getting her food. She likes turkey right? I'll just throw together a sandwich for her." 

A soft snicker escaped you as the peeler slipped from your hand and plunged into the water-filled bowl. You shifted your attention towards her, trying to decipher if she was genuinely serious or not. Yet, as you locked eyes with her, she responded with an arched eyebrow and an inquisitive grin.

"Jess has a poultry allergy, Mom." 

The woman paused briefly, inhaling deeply to gather her thoughts. As she glanced up at you, she shifted her hip to the side. Her apologetic expression seemed somewhat contrived. "Of course, I should have remembered. I'm sorry, honey." 

It was understandable that the woman might eventually forget. She wasn't the one who hurriedly took Jess to the hospital when she had her first experience with it, she wasn't the one who remained by the girl's side day and night, eagerly waiting for her to regain consciousness. But you were. You were Jess's first in everything. You had always been there for her, so it's only natural that the bond between the two of you grew strong. You knew all about her allergies, her preferences, her school crushes— you felt like more of a mother to her than her biological one.

 "Whatever. I'll pack her lunch." 

You swivel the chair and slide off of it. "The blue card, right?" As she nods her head absentmindedly, almost as if she's in a daze, you leave the kitchen with a frown etched on your face.

Snatching your keys from the hook, you hastily slide into your gym shoes, relieved that you hadn't bothered changing your clothes. You stand at the bottom of the stairs and shift your weight. "Jess! I'm going to the store, do you want anything?!" You delve into your mom's purse, sifting through the chaotic contents until you locate her wallet and retrieve the blue card food stamp card.

   After a brief silence, her bedroom door swings open and she rushes towards the railing, a bright smile on her face. " Ice cream? Shark week came and I've been really craving strawberry ice cream."  You give a nod and quickly retrieve your jacket from the closet. "Do you need any money for the trip tomorrow? I can take some out on my way back." 

The young girl shakes her head, her eyes filled with adoration. You raise an eyebrow but still nod in understanding. Retrieving your phone from your pocket, you give it a gentle shake. "Text me if you need anything, but be quick about it." Without waiting for her response, you swiftly unlock the door and make your way onto the porch.

The sky is adorned with a delicate blend of pink and deep purple, gradually blending into the mysterious darkness of the night. A gentle breeze carries a subtle chill, but you embrace it without a word, wrapping your jacket tightly around your being. Swiftly, you navigate towards your vehicle, unlocking the door and sinking into the plush leather seat. A faint hint of smoke dances in the air, causing your nose to crinkle in response. Without hesitation, you lower the window, letting it air out.

As the smell dissipates you roll up the window and rub your hands together from the cold.

 With a flick of a switch, the heat begins to flow, gradually filling the space and caressing your cheeks with a gentle warmth. The jacket you wear, once a shield against the chill, now threatens to make you feel almost too warm. With a contented smile, you leave the driveway behind and glide swiftly down the street, embraced by the cozy ambiance within.

 As you embark on the drive, the radio remains silent, allowing your thoughts to drift away. Your thumb dances lightly on the steering wheel, lost in a world of its own. Deep down, you had already made up your mind to have Jess by your side once you left. There was no way your parents could take care of her, especially with what you've heard today. 

 Your job was well-paying and you had saved up to rent and secure a two-bedroom apartment at an astonishingly reasonable cost, despite its pristine condition. Nestled within a delightful community, the apartment stood conveniently close to Jess' school. Naturally, obtaining their consent would be imperative, yet even if they were to resist, you would unhesitatingly embark on a legal journey to assert your rights. Yet even if they were to resist, you would unhesitatingly them to court. 

  You wanted a better life for Jess, you wanted the rest of her remaining years of growth to unfold effortlessly. Your affection for her was so profound that witnessing her spiral, just as you had, while residing with your parents was simply inconceivable.

Startled by a gentle tap on your window, you were momentarily transported from the reverie you had been lost in while sitting in the Kroger's parking lot. Your mind had been wandering, lost in a sea of thoughts. With your heart pounding in your chest, you slowly shifted your gaze towards the source of the sound and cautiously opened the window, allowing a sliver of the outside world to seep in.

 She was an elderly lady, much older than you, with a look of homelessness about her. Her shirt was stained and torn, her jeans in tatters, and her face covered in grime. You hesitated for a moment before offering her a warm smile and rolling down your window just a tad further.

  "Hi, do you need something?"

As her murmurs dance in disarray, fragments of words manage to intertwine, and in a fleeting moment, a shiver cascades down your spine. " You're. . . Die. . . Tonight."  

Her expression is vacant, her gaze distant, and the fidgety way she picks at her cuticles hints at her unease. Even though you feel a sense of discomfort, a strong urge to leave the parking lot doesn't overcome you. Instead, you reach into the glove compartment, retrieve a crumpled $20 bill, and gently pass it through the window.

 You recoil in shock as she snatches it out of your hand, making sure to quickly wobble off. With your heart racing, you roll up the window and sink into the headrest, trying to soothe your jangled nerves. What the hell was that about? The only conclusion you can draw is that she must be a deranged old woman.

After finally catching your breath, you unlock your car door and slide out, card in hand. Gently inserting the blue plastic into the slot at the back of your phone case, you carefully place it in your pocket. The night had fallen, and you were eager to return to the comfort of your home.

You took a cart from the parking lot racks and pushed it inside, feeling the chill of the air as you entered the store. "Hmm, what should I pick up for Jess?"

—

   "Jess! Mom! I'm home!" You set the bags onto the dining room table and wait there with a cocked hip. Within moments, Jess emerges from her room and descends the stairs in a flurry. A gentle smile adorns your face as you present the tub of delectable ice cream, relishing in the delightful sound of her joyful squeal.

  "Ah! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" With a grateful smile, she plants a sweet kiss on your cheek and pulls you into a warm embrace. She then heads to the kitchen, excitedly searching through the drawer for a spoon. Your mother, already present in the kitchen, peeks out from behind the corner.

You notice her face contorting into a slight frown paired with a gentle smile. You recognize that look instantly, so you grab the car keys and smoothly slide the card off the table. Her eyes soften with regret as she passes you a tiny list. "It's just a few things, the ingredients for Jakiya's birthday cake that slipped my mind. Do you mind picking them up?"

   You raised an eyebrow, lips pursed. "I don't necessarily have a choice, mom." Your mom huffed and rolled her eyes. "It's a simple yes or no question, don't be difficult." Despite your strained relationship with your mom, you made an effort to avoid arguments when Jess was present.

Speaking of which, Jess had stopped rummaging in the drawer, body strung tight like a bow. Your gaze softened as you released a weary, deep sigh. You were completely fed up with your parents' nonsense, but Jess shouldn't have to witness the constant fighting between the three of you.

With a gentle nibble on the tender flesh of your cheek, you gracefully acknowledged your mother's request, enveloping yourself in the comforting embrace of your jacket. "Sure mom, what do you need?"

A smile of gratitude adorned her face as she pushed a small list towards you. You grinned wryly as you snatched it, then swiftly headed towards the door. The sun had long set, plunging the world into darkness. The street lights flickered weakly, barely illuminating the empty streets.

 Jess gazes at you as you prepare to depart, smiling guiltily.  With a playful roll of your eyes, you silently express your affection, mouthing the words 'I love you' and blowing a tender kiss in her direction. Her nose scrunches up adorably, but her face lights up with a radiant smile as she reciprocates the gesture. As you steal a glance to the side, you catch sight of your mother observing the exchange, her eyes filled with a bittersweet longing.

 "Text me if there's something else, I'm not going back out later." The words were directed towards Jess, but she dismissed them with a wave of her hand and reached for a large spoon from the drawer. Stepping outside, you were greeted by the refreshing embrace of the cool, crisp air, causing you to release a frustrated sigh. The sound of your keys jingled as you retrieved them from your pocket, pressing a button to unlock the car doors. With a swift motion, you hopped into the front seat and firmly closed the door behind you.

 You wait impatiently as the engine sputters before shutting off. Resting your head on the steering wheel, you attempt a few more times before surrendering. Frustrated, you hit the dashboard and recline in your seat. If you were to go inside and inform your mom that the car wouldn't start, she'd make you walk anyway.

With a sigh escaping your lips, you swing open the door and slide from the seat locking the doors behind you. Embarking on your journey towards Kroger, you find yourself humming a gentle melody, adding a touch of serenity to your brisk pace towards the supermarket. The night envelops you in a tranquil embrace, yet the houses you pass by are alive with vibrant activity. As you stroll along, your gaze wanders towards the windows, offering glimpses into the lives unfolding within.

    Some families are cooking while others are at the table already eating. Happiness danced in the air, casting its enchanting spell upon every corner. Yet, as you observed this idyllic scene, a twinge of envy tugged at your heartstrings. Growing up, you yearned for such a blissful atmosphere that seemed to elude you. At the tender age of nine, your parents bestowed upon you the title of maturity, deeming you wise beyond your years. And while, yes, you possessed a certain level of wisdom, it did not equate to being capable enough to care for your baby sister.

 It fell upon you to fetch Jess from daycare and ensure a safe journey back home for the two of you. It was your responsibility to prepare meals for both of you after school. The weight of raising your four-year-old sister and yourself rested solely on your shoulders, as there was no one else to do it for you. Over time, the bond between both of you and your parents had weakened. They were seldom present, and when they were, disagreements ensued. You made an effort to keep the arguments hushed whenever Jess was around. She often blamed herself for the strained relationship between you, your mom, and your dad.

As you stroll along the dimly lit street, a sudden hush falls upon your heart as the echo of footsteps reaches your ears. Time seems to stand still, and for a fleeting moment, your heart skips a beat. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, you cling to a glimmer of hope, imagining that those footsteps might belong to a passerby, innocently treading the same path as you.

They draw nearer, their footsteps quickening. You swallow your trepidation, nearly stumbling as a man's voice pierces the air. "Excuse me!" His voice resonates with a deep, thunderous timbre, sending shivers down your spine. You flinch, but press on, hastening towards the bustling street where the glow of passing cars illuminates the pavement and towering structures. Towards the sanctuary of safety.

 "Hey! I'm talking to you." 

  You're almost there. You start to jog a little but they've closed in a bit too much. Their presence looms closer, their energy palpable. Just as panic threatens to consume you, you part your lips to release a piercing scream, only to find that silence has enveloped the air.

A gentle breeze rustles the leaves of a bush, followed by a brief, hushed cry that fades into silence. The chirping of crickets has ceased, leaving a stillness that envelops the world. With uncertainty, you glance behind you and collapse to the ground as the two men have vanished. Gazing up at the night sky, the reflection in your eyes, you offer silent gratitude to whoever intervened and saved you in that fleeting moment.

   You stand up and you resume your journey, eventually arriving at the bustling street. Though your legs falter when you notice the woman from earlier sitting on a bus stop bench. The impact of the $20 becomes evident as she savors a warm, nourishing meal, and her once weary eyes seem to be less bloodshot. 

 A part of you hesitates to pass by her, yet you dismiss that fleeting sense of unease and march towards her. It appears that she is also cautious of your presence, as her head swiftly turns towards you—almost as if she is just as cognizant of you as you are of her. Her gaze drifts beyond your shoulder and her eyes widen, a sheer terror reflecting in them. She abandons her meal, rises with some effort, clutches onto her bag, and hastens away.

Your brows knit together and you cast a glance over your shoulder, a whirlwind of bewilderment dancing in your gaze. There is no one lingering in the shadows and the surroundings appear undisturbed. Returning your attention to her path, you discover that she has vanished into thin air. A sense of unease settles within you as you resume your journey towards the store, diligently keeping a watchful eye on the space behind you.

—

The parking lot is nearly empty when you leave the store. Alongside you, a stream of tired employees bid farewell to their workday, their footsteps echoing in harmony with your own. Amid this scene, a message from Jess illuminates your phone, informing you that dinner has already been prepared. However, a bittersweet note lingers as their parents, driven by impatience, have chosen to indulge in the meal without your presence.

      The girl had put you some food up and would eat with you when you got home. You tell her that it's fine and for her to go to sleep. She responds back with the middle finger emoji. You let out a soft laugh and gently tuck your phone away, resuming your journey back home. In moments like these, you can't help but appreciate the invaluable presence of your sister. She is the unwavering support that keeps you grounded, the guiding light that helps you navigate through life's challenges. It is because of her that you find the strength to persevere, even in the face of your parents' constant demands.

Raising Jess, despite its challenges, has molded you into the person you are now. A person who is dependable, always on time, patient, and strong-willed. You possess the remarkable ability to adapt swiftly and thrive in any endeavor you undertake. If your parents hadn't entrusted you with the responsibility of raising your sister, none of these remarkable qualities would have blossomed within you. Although it may be bittersweet, raising Jess has truly been a hidden blessing, concealed in the depths of life's mysteries.

As you hurriedly make your way home, you take a shortcut and find yourself in the dimly lit parking lot of a mysterious barber shop. Instantly, a wave of regret washes over you as you stumble upon a group of men engaged in some clandestine activity. Panic sets in, and you quickly decide to retreat. However, fate has other plans for you. In your haste, you accidentally collide with a solid chest, causing you to freeze in your tracks. 

When you gather the courage to look up, you are met with a sight that leaves you breathless. Standing before you is a towering figure, adorned with intricate tattoos that seem to tell stories of their own. His pierced septum and eyebrow only add to his intimidating presence, and his annoyed expression sends shivers down your spine. As his eyebrows furrow, you can't help but do a double take at his striking attractiveness.

 "Watch where you're going, woman." You nod in agreement and attempt to move aside, but a member of the group lets out a disrespectful whistle. Your body tenses as you try to keep walking, only to have your wrist grabbed by another individual. "Where do you think you're going? You're such a pretty little thing."  

"I just want to get home. Please, let me go." Your attempt at a stern tone falters as your voice quivers and a hiccup escapes. Laughter fills the air, causing you to shrink back as if confronting a pack of wolves. Six of them. 

   The mysterious figure you collided with earlier firmly grasps the man who is restraining your wrist. " I don't have all fucking night Tyler. Either give me my shit, or I'm going to blow your brains across this goddamn lot." 

The atmosphere suddenly becomes hushed, as if time itself holds its breath. A distant memory resurfaces, a conversation shared with your sister, where you both playfully pondered about how you would handle such a situation. Laughter filled the air as you jokingly mentioned pepper spray and karate moves. But now, in this very moment, fear grips your heart, rendering you utterly petrified.

    Tyler releases his grip on you, causing a small, trembling breath to escape your lips. "Jesus, Dom. I was just joking," he says nervously, glancing at his friends for support. A few chuckle while others remain silent.

 Dom gazes at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Go. Before I change my mind." Despite the stern tone, there is a softness in his eyes that reassures you. You thank him profusely and speed walk away from the group. 

The moment you thought you were making headway, the piercing screams and the thunderous gunshots shatter the night's calmness. Time seems to stand still as the world around you falls into an eerie silence once again. With a lump in your throat, you quicken your pace, feeling the weight of tears welling up in your eyes.

This couldn't possibly be the end for you. It simply couldn't. You still had a duty to care for your sister, to provide her with a better life than you ever had. You longed to shield her from your parents, but how could you do that if you were no longer alive?

   As you sprint away, tightly holding onto the groceries, a gasp escapes your lips before a hand covers your mouth, guiding you into a hidden bush. The struggle feels like the most intense challenge you've ever faced. Through a tiny gap, you catch a glimpse of your groceries left behind on the pavement.

  " Shh, little female." 

As if by magic, a wave of calm washes over you the moment you recognize the familiar presence of 'Dom'. Tears cascade down your cheeks, and you gently rest your hands upon his, feeling the rhythmic beats of your heart resonating in your ears. As you glance through the foliage, a gasp escapes your lips upon seeing 'Tyler' once again. Yet, he appears far from human this time. His complexion is a mesmerizing shade of deep purple, and his face is adorned with four fiery red eyes and a menacing set of frothing, razor-sharp teeth.

His mouth oozes with saliva, which cascades onto the solid ground and creates a sizzling noise. It was acidic. Dom embraces you tightly, his free hand ascending. In his grasp, a peculiar gun emerges, unlike anything you have ever laid eyes upon. With precision, he positions the barrel's tip against the peephole, his finger gently caressing the trigger. As the gun powers up, a radiant orange glow illuminates its entire frame, casting an ethereal aura. The release is nearly soundless, as a beam pierces through 'Tyler's forehead. 

He moves away from you, emerging from the bushes, taking your stunned body in his arms and lifting you up gently. Running his fingers through his hair, the white locks falling smoothly into place.

As your gaze meets his, your mortal eyes widen in awe. He appears changed, yet undeniably captivating in a strange, otherworldly manner. His complexion is a deep shade of grey, adorned with intricate tattoos in an unfamiliar script. Some markings are white, while others emit a haunting red glow. His hair, too, is a ghostly white, almost pulsating with life. His eyes, a cloudy white, give the impression of blindness, yet two more eyes rest just below the main set. The piercings on his nose and eyebrow remain, adding to his enigmatic allure.

 You take a step back, but he gives you a piercing look that freezes you in place "What are you?" Without a word, he hesitates for a moment before taking your hand and leading you away. "Where are we going?" Your voice trembles with fear. Dom halts and releases your hand. He gestures towards the lifeless body.  "Do you see that? Hundreds of those things have already touched Terra, 3 earth months ago." 

  You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself, trying to keep warm. The deep timber of his voice brings you back to reality. "They proliferate with astonishing speed, ceaselessly multiplying. Your planet is infested, we're only here to see if it was preventable. We were too late." 

As he looks down upon you, his eyes soften, embracing the sight of your trembling figure.  "Our ultimate aim is to gather a chosen few among humanity and escort you to a hospitable planet, so that you can once again repopulate."

You shake your head slowly, taking a step back, "I cannot abandon my sister here." Dom releases a fierce growl, pointing his gun towards you and firing. The beam narrowly misses you, striking another monster in the head.

"Make it quick."

In a flurry of movement, you dart into the house, the groceries slipping from your grasp and finding their place on the table in a haphazard manner. Dom follows silently, his presence masked by a cloaking device that renders him invisible to the naked eye. 

Your heart races within your chest, a wild stallion galloping against the confines of its cage, as you ascend the stairs with reckless abandon, the sound of your footsteps reverberating loudly against the wooden steps. Bursting into Jess' room, a wave of relief washes over you, a grateful prayer whispered under your breath. Taking a seat on her bed, your smile quivers with a mixture of emotions.

Her expression is one of bewilderment and a touch of fear. Tenderly, you sweep a strand of hair away from her face. "Do me a favor, my sweet girl. Pack some clothes, but pack light. I'll explain on the way but do it quickly." Jess has always trusted your decisions without hesitation, and she won't begin to question them now. She swiftly jumps out of bed and retrieves a bookbag from her wardrobe, the very same one you both use during your camping adventures.

"We don't have much time, little female." His tone isn't rushing in the slightest but you quickly head to your room and grab your book bag. You gather only the essentials - tough denim, comfortable shirts, reliable footwear, empty notebooks, and writing tools.

Jess rushed into the room, packing faster than anticipated, much to your relief. You take her hand and guide her out, but suddenly a loud crash interrupts. Both of you scream and huddle in the corner. Dom reveals himself and fires a shot, striking the massive creature in the shoulder. Its deafening roar rattles the house and you hear your parents' heavy footsteps approaching. Just as the monster lunges towards you, Dom takes aim and shoots it in the head. Neon blood splatters the wall, causing it to slowly dissolve.

With wide, frightened eyes, Jess looks up at you as you cling to her protectively. Your parents step into the room, dressed in their robes, shocked expressions on their faces as they take in the scene in front of them. Dom pays no attention to them, instead turning his gaze towards you and giving you a once-over.

" Are you ready?" 

 With a subtle nod, you accept his outstretched hand, intertwining your fingers with his while ensuring your younger sister is safe by your side. The first to break the silence is your father, his voice laced with bewilderment. "What the hell is happening?!" His eyes fixate on you, as if you hold the key to unraveling this enigma. Disregarding his inquiry, Dom strides past, leading the three of you down the staircase. Your parents trail behind, bombarding you with a flurry of questions. Despite their persistent curiosity, you make a conscious effort to block out their voices, but your mother intervenes by snatching Jess away from your side.

With a sudden movement, the girl breaks free and falls into your waiting arms. Dom brandishes his weapon, his expression icy and resolute. Your mother retreats, seeking solace in the arms of your father.

 Dom takes the lead, while the two of you follow closely. Observing Jess, he sees her slight build and anticipates she may have difficulty keeping pace. However, he remains utterly unfazed, not a hint of complaint escaping his lips. In a surprising display of strength, he effortlessly lifts her, prompting her to let out a startled yelp, and places her book bag on his shoulder.

" We need to move fast. Keep up."

 As you secure your book bag and inhale deeply, a rush of adrenaline courses through you. Dom sprints ahead, weapon in hand. The sound of breaking glass startles you, disrupting the tranquility of the surroundings you had just passed. The anguished cries of parents and children tug at your heartstrings, but your focus remains on Jess.

—

 The length of time you've been running is a blur, your legs now numb from the effort. Nevertheless, you persist, matching his pace as best as you can. Jess has succumbed to sleep, worn out from the night's adventures. You grin wearily at her and give yourself a firm slap on the cheeks, determined to stay awake.

 Dom is pleasantly surprised by how far you've been able to sprint, appreciating your resilience and commitment to your kin. As the three of you reach a vast clearing, he gradually slows down and halts. You catch up to him, panting heavily, with sweat glistening on your skin. You look at him, curious as to why he's stopped. Dom raises his arm and utters something in his native tongue. The gauntlet beeps and responds to him in kind.

The once vacant clearing now teems with life as your gaze is captivated by the majestic arrival of a ship. Its sheer grandeur overwhelms you, compelling you to take a step back. Towering above, the ship's entrance demands you to tilt your head back. 

As Dom guides you onward, the hatch swings open, inviting you to step onto its surface. A warm welcome awaits you from a gathering of his companions, each adorned in vibrant hues, yet all sharing the distinctive feature of milky white eyes. Drawing nearer to Dom, you find solace in the proximity of your sister. They engage in conversation briefly, before the hatch seals shut and Dom secures his firearm in its holster. " You will be safe here. The ship will take off tomorrow night when my people come with more of your kind."

  He leads the two of you to a room, one big bed placed in the middle of it accompanied by a smattering of curious contraptions. The walls exude an ethereal shade of slate grey metal, while a petite window graces the space just above a cozy sitting area. Tenderly, Dom settles Jess upon the bed and places the bag on a nearby table. He looks towards you and motions forward. "Rest."

As he moves towards the room's exit, you seize his hand. Your eyes betray a lack of trust, not in him, but in the very ship and its occupants. Dom stares at you, his emotions veiled, and you struggle to hold back tears. " Will you come back? Are you leaving us?" 

 In Dom's world, the idea of a female requiring reassurance and assistance was unfamiliar territory. The females on his planet, known as sîmalę, were formidable warriors, often occupying positions of power surpassing those of the males. Dom found himself fortunate to have gotten his position. [ Female¹]

He reminds himself that you are a human hailing from the terra planet. The concept of hunting or encountering creatures that did not resemble pets or the animals confined within the cages of a zoo was foreign to you. Dom gently releases your hand from his grasp, his gaze emanating reassurance despite the vacancy in his expression." Sleep, little female and this one will be back soon."  

Observing as you reluctantly nod, you make your way towards the bed. With tenderness, you remove your sister's shoes and tuck her in, finding solace in this simple act of nurturing. Your savior exits the room, leaving you to collapse onto your knees, tears cascading from your eyes. The events of today crash upon you with the intensity of a thunderstorm, and you come to the realization that it is now solely you and your sister. A small part of you regrets not bringing your parents along, but you have convinced yourself that it was the wisest choice.

 " What's wrong?"

You swiftly brush away the tears with the back of your hand. Gazing at your sister, you grasp her hand gently in yours. Her eyes hold a hint of doubt as you shake your head. It was crucial to show Jess that you were the pillar of strength, assuring her safety and control.

  "It's nothing, I'm just exhausted. Let's head to sleep okay?" Jess nods, revealing the empty side of the bed for you to rest on. You kick off your shoes and wrap yourself in the comforter. Jess joins you promptly, nestling beside you to provide warmth. The lights recognize your need for rest and dim down.

  "I love you." 

You grin and hold her hand in yours. "I love you too."

—-

The gentle murmur of voices pulls you from your slumber, but Jess is no longer by your side, leaving you feeling a sense of emptiness. Your eyes gradually open, taking in your surroundings. A sleepy yawn escapes your lips as you sit up in bed. The voices fall silent, only to be replaced by Jess' voice, beckoning you to join the conversation.

"Are you finally awake?"

A slight thumbs up is the only response Jess receives before you run your hands over your eyes, dispelling the drowsiness. "Dom says that the others will be back soon, in two hours. Then we'll be leaving here." At the mention of his name, you lift your gaze completely. The alien is stationed at the entrance, arms crossed, sporting a ghostly smile as a greeting.

Relief floods through you when he appears, and he can sense it too. Your oxytocin levels spike at the mere sight of him. The moment is disrupted by the loud rumbling of Jess' stomach, leading her to groan and flop onto the bed. "I'm starving!"

  A piece of your heart is relieved to see Jess back to her usual self, yet a part of you understands the importance of discussing the recent events and what lies ahead. Dom opens the room door and motions to it. "This one will take you to the canteen, you'll eat there." 

   Jess eagerly jumps out of bed, taking your hand and pulling you along. "Hurry, I don't want to go by myself," she pleads. You yield to her plea and stand up. Dom watches the two of you but doesn't race you to get ready. The two of you quickly put on your shoes and exit the room.

Dom assumes the lead, acknowledging the presence of the guards stationed throughout the ship. "You will eat with the rest of your kind, worry not." You reciprocate with a nod, holding your sister tightly while marveling at the ship and its bewildering gadgets that surpass Earth's comprehension. Dom opens the door for both of you, placing a comforting hand on your lower back. His touch brings solace as you step inside, with Jess following closely behind. Although the canteen isn't teeming with people, its modest occupancy provides a semblance of safety within the ship's vast expanse.

"Jess?"

    The sound of your sister's name comes from a girl with dyed red and pink hair. A dazzling diamond stud graces her pierced nose, and her eyes gleam in a warm toffee shade. It takes a moment for your sister to locate the person who called out to her, but when she does, her eyes fill with tears of happiness as she waves in acknowledgment.

You anticipate your sister's eager rush, yet she remains rooted, her hand clasping yours with increasing intensity, as if seeking your validation. A profound connection is forged as your eyes meet, and despite the weariness etched upon your visage, you manage to summon a tired smile, silently conveying your agreement. With unwavering determination, Jess propels herself towards the girl in the queue, leaping into her outstretched arms. "Kayla!"

 While your sister is occupied, you sit at an unoccupied table, startled by Dom's sudden presence across from you. "How do you and your kin fair? Little female." It's a pity that you feel more at ease with an alien than your own kind. 

" My name is [ ]."  The nickname he has given you isn't one that offends you in any way. The way he uses it is quite endearing, but you'd rather him call you by your real name than anything else. You wring your hands together and your stress levels rise steadily. Anxious thoughts swirl in your mind as you ponder,  "What will happen to everyone else that's left here?" 

Your name carries the meaning of 'to conquer' in his native tongue and he finds it fitting for you. Dom's jaw tightens slightly as he locks eyes with you. "This one will not lie to you. Many of your species will die, it is survival of the fittest when it comes to the Qęnłar. They are hard to kill without proper weapons but it is not impossible."  

[ Abomination¹]

A soft gasp is stifled by your hand as tears well up in your eyes. The sense of guilt consumes you, making you question your own worthiness. Unsure of how you could have helped, you can't help but feel like an imposter among those who perished.

Dom seems to sense your inner turmoil and does his best to console you. "There is not much you could've done, litt–."His voice falters momentarily as he nearly utters the name he'd given you, but he swiftly regains composure. "Had you not gone out that night, you also could've been left here on terra to die. None aboard this vessel would have spared a second thought to rescue you." 

 It's clear that he's not skilled at soothing people, particularly humans, yet you offer your thanks with a watery smile. As he opens his mouth to speak again, he gently places a hand on his ear. Despite the absence of eyebrows, you observe the furrow in the center of his forehead. His gaze turns icy as he stands up from the table.

   "This one will find you in your chambers later, ask the guard to lead you when you are ready. Fęrłåk dė hłał." Although you don't understand the meaning behind his words, you nod in agreement, captivated by the enigmatic aura surrounding him. He then departs, pausing briefly to converse with the guard. [ Eat well ¹] 

  With a glance in your direction, the alien acknowledges Dom with a nod. Your stomach emits a low growl, prompting you to lay your head on the table, too fatigued to make a move.

Clang!

Next to your slouched figure, Jess sets down two trays brimming with mouth-watering dishes. As you straighten up, a grin spreads across your face. You instinctively grab the tray loaded with an assortment of fruits, feeling understood by her intuitive gesture— she knew you so well.

"Where did he go?" You assume she's talking about Dom. With a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders, you indulged in the succulent sweetness of a ripe mango, savoring each delicate bite.

 "Jess. What happened yesterday–."

The girl holds up her hand. "I don't know what happened when you left, and there's no need to tell me. I've never questioned anything you've done for me before because you always have the best interest at heart. Thank you for coming back for me. Dom told me that you wouldn't leave without me." 

She gazes down at her tray of food. "A part of me feels guilty for leaving mom and dad but I know that you made the right decision and had your reasons." Jess lets out a shaky sigh and turns to face you. "I'm scared, absolutely terrified but I want to be strong for you. Like how you are for me. I can tell you're stressed as it is and I don't want to burden you." 

  You pull her into a hug and shake your head. "Jess, you could never, and I mean never be a burden to me. Do you understand?" She nods into your chest, sniffling softly. You rub her back and bite your lip. "I'm also really scared, this is new to me but I'll make sure that we'll get through it."

She nods again and pulls away from you. You purse your lips, a mixture of emotions swirling within you, and decide to divert your attention by savoring the delectable cantaloupe. "Now eat. You pulled me from my sleep and I want to go back to bed."  Jess chuckles softly, her head bobbing in agreement. " I'm also really sleepy. It'd also be crazy to wake up in space." 

 The mere thought causes you to grimace involuntarily. This entire experience is uncharted territory for you, but just like in the past, you will learn to adapt and persevere. The cool, refreshing juice of the watermelon glides down your throat, its delightful taste prompting a gentle hum of satisfaction.

 It feels almost surreal to grasp the idea that within a mere two hours, you will bid farewell to your beloved home. A place you believed to be exclusively inhabited by humans, the notion of extraterrestrial existence had never crossed your mind. The journey that lies ahead will undoubtedly present its fair share of challenges and hardships. This very moment, unfolding like a scene from an otherworldly sci-fi saga, is something you never could have anticipated, even in your wildest dreams. And now, as you find yourself in this new reality, your mission has taken on a profound meaning - to protect Jess at all costs.

 "Captain X'ęnš would like to enter your chambers. Will you allow him access?"

   In a state of heightened alertness, you find yourself sitting up, your muscles tense with anticipation. The room is suddenly bathed in light, only to swiftly dim as the perceptive AI detects that Jess is still sound asleep. A wave of uncertainty washes over you as you contemplate the identity of the person standing outside the door. 

 Your gaze sweeps across the room, desperately seeking an object to grasp onto for a sense of security. Eventually, your eyes settle upon one of your worn boots. With a mixture of doubt and determination, you call out to the AI. "Please show me the door feed." A brief moment of silence ensues before the AI responds, its voice calm and reassuring. "Certainly."

The door shimmers, revealing a translucent barrier that draws you nearer. Dropping the shoe, you breathe a sigh of contentment at the sight of Dom standing before you. Standing in front of the door, you gaze at him, captivated by the intricacies of his face.

 "Can he see me?"

In a swift response, the AI speaks, "Negative, this is a unidirectional perspective. He is visible solely to you."  As soon as it finishes saying that, Dom raises his head. Your heart pounds rapidly as his gaze eerily connects with yours, contradicting the AI's statement. "Open the door."

As the entryway unfolds with a whisper, Dom's towering figure emerges. You greet him with a breathless smile, slipping your hands into your back pockets. "Hi." Dom mellows at your soft tone, allowing you to place a hand on his arm and push him back, watching as you discreetly slide out of the room so as to not wake up your sister. He does a once over, looking for any wounds or signs of distress, and finds that he's pleased with himself that you're alright. 

 "This one said he would visit after his duties, jœrmünd łæ bšłåm." He watches with amusement as your eyebrows furrow. " What does that mean?" Your lips form a thoughtful pout. "And earlier you said, ferrak di hal." From the moment you first laid eyes on him, even though it was just recently, you had been curious to discover the sound of his laughter, and it did not disappoint.

   His laugh isn't boisterous. It's a deep and soothing sound, akin to the soft murmur of a distant waterfall. As the echoes of his laughter reached your ears, they stirred a gentle fire within, causing a delightful warmth to spread and caress your belly. Whether he noticed the subtle increase in your body's temperature or not, he remained silent, allowing the enchantment of the moment to weave its spell.

    "Jœrmünd łæ bšłåm, it translates roughly in terra language to, 'good evening.'" His eyes twinkle with a playful delight as you attempt to mimic the intricate sounds and melodic cadence. " Fęrłåk dė hłał. It means to, eat well."

Dom gazes intently at you, then clasps his hands behind his back. "Walk with this one."  You wriggle your toes in your cozy socks and give a slight nod. 

As if guided by an invisible force, your steps align effortlessly with Dom's. The silence envelops you, but it feels far from uncomfortable. Your gaze wanders through the vast corridors of the ship, capturing glimpses of unfamiliar beings from distant worlds. At this moment, you break the silence and softly inquire, "May I know your name?"

With a quick glance, Dom's gaze shifts to you, his lips forming a straight line, prompting a frown to appear on your face. You ponder if your request was too bold, unsure of the cultural norms that may have been offended by your question.

As he utters the words, a sense of relief washes over you, even though his expression seems tinged with sadness. "This one's given name is Nim'xėn." he murmurs. In the distance, a group of his fimea approaches, but you remain oblivious, lost in your own thoughts. With a tender touch, he clasps your wrist and guides you to his side, yet your attention barely registers the gesture. [ soldiers ]

  "Nim'xėn, in the language I speak, translates to 'of soft heart'. It doesn't much fit, when it comes to this one's line of work." Your mouth opened in a small 'o', that was probably the reason he had stuck with Dom all this time. You laughed softly, holding your hands up in surrender when he shoots you a coltish look of exasperation. 

    "I think it fits, regardless of what you do." There is no trace of mockery in your tone, nor any hint of jesting at his expense. With a gentle smile adorning his face, he steals a glance at you. A surge of warmth courses through your veins, causing your body temperature to soar. Swiftly, he averts his gaze, evading your notice.

With a gentle laugh, he responds to your attempt at saying his name, "Nim'jin?" He guides you towards a door, "This one will help you practice your Tuökkorsė, later." You assume that he's talking about his home language and your cheeks flush with embarrassment, making you question just how badly you butchered his name.

As Nim'xėn gently swings open the door, a beckoning gesture invites you to step inside. Without hesitation, you follow the invitation, and in an instant, your jaw falls open in awe. Unbeknownst to you and Jess, who had been lost in slumber for over two hours, the ship had gracefully ascended into the vastness of space. The sight before you is nothing short of breathtaking, confirming your belief that waking up to the wonders of the cosmos is an experience beyond compare.

The space around you is encased in what looks like a delicate glass structure. You floated weightlessly in the vast expanse of the universe, far from the comforts of home. "Nim, this is truly breathtaking," you marveled. The alien blinked in response to the endearing nickname but remained silent. "Jess would love to see this." 

  Nim'xėn walks up behind you and fixates on the view he has witnessed countless times. However, inexplicably, he discovers himself treasuring your pįiwth expressions and yearning to unveil new wonders, all to witness your delightful grin once more. [ childish or cute¹ ] 

 "This one gives permission for you and your kin to visit here anytime." The enigmatic allure you possess has captivated him, leaving him bewildered. It is not his nature to be swayed so easily. He should have abandoned you on that desolate street, yet your innocent gaze had a profound effect on him. The depth of your love for your family astounded him, for even in the presence of imminent danger, your thoughts were solely consumed by her, and her alone.

Once he had escorted you to your room, his task should have been complete. Yet, your tender human hand had entwined with his own. Your unwavering trust and reliance had ensnared him, making it difficult for him to let go. In a realm where his female counterparts were independent and formidable, that moment of vulnerability had drawn him in, like a eürq to light.

 [ large mosquito like creature —  a saying similar to, ' a moth to flame ' ¹ ]

   Yet, he also knew how strong you were. None before you had managed to match his speed, let alone endure it for an entire three hours. Your unwavering determination fascinated him. Nim'xėn yearned to prolong your time together, reluctant to bid you farewell.

 Turning to the extraterrestrial, you met his gaze with the same wide-eyed innocence that had captivated him during your initial encounter. "Seriously?" His nod elicited a radiant smile on your face, reminiscent of the joy of Christmas, and Nim'xėn felt a flutter in his hearts. Your eyes then sought his. "How do you say thank you in your language?"

 Nim'xėn couldn't help but find it pįiwth¹ that you were making an effort to learn his people's language. He decided to humor you. "Stęq'hn kevvhr.²" The alien chuckles when you grimace, looking up at him with furrowed brows.  [ childish or cute¹ ] [ thank you² ]

 "Lirft X'ęnš, quœ mojå iėał ph'ük ak hlem.¹ "

As he tightens his jaw, a resolute grunt escapes his lips. Returning his attention to you, he observes the slight downturn of your plush lips and the tilt of your head to the side. "Do you need to leave, again?" Nim'xėn softly hums, his hand finding solace on your lower back as he leads you towards the door.

[ Captain X'ęnš, we need your assistance up front. ¹ ]

"This one will take you back to your room."

 As you tread back, a hushed calmness settles in, and Nim'xėn discerns that your thoughts have carried you away. Respecting your need for introspection, he chooses not to disturb your reverie. Upon arriving at the room, you turn around, meeting his gaze head-on. "Stęq'han kever." Without delay, you slip inside, leaving him standing there, his words left unspoken.

   He then realizes that while the two of you were walking back, you had been trying to replicate what he had just said. Nim'xėn, finding himself once more, made his way towards the pit. Despite your imperfect rendition, he grasped the essence of your intention and couldn't help but chuckle to himself.

phæż pįiwth ¹ he thought.  [ how cute. ¹ ]

[kairoot]

hiii. you said you wanted to write something for hoon and idk if it’s because i’m on my period but all i can think about rn is him coming back from tour and he’s so excited because he gets to see his gf!! and she surprises him by picking him up at the airport and he’s all soft and clingy and the members tease him but he doesn’t care bcuz the lohl is right there???

. ﹙★﹚ALWAYS FOREVER. | 성훈

PAIRING : sunghoon x f.reader ➖ GENRE : fluff, est. relationship ➖ REQUESTED : by the lovely @enha-stars ➖ WARNINGS : lowercase intended, pet names, kissing ➖ WC : 866.

SECTION SONG: always forever by cults

.˚ *꒰ঌ ✦ ໒꒱ * ˚. —

departing from each other was never easy for y/n and sunghoon, especially when he was gone for months at a time. she loved that he was passionate about his job, it just seemed as if her boyfriend was taken from her constantly.

every time he left, they promised that they’d see each other again and that they’d still remain as one, never leaving each other permanently. which was why y/n held a seat in the nearest airport, waiting for her love.

she glanced around constantly, not wanting to miss the moment sunghoon walked through those doors. her gaze switched from her surroundings to her phone, checking if sunghoon had messaged her back.

nothing.

he wasn’t aware of y/n’s plans of surprising him after months of being apart. but of course, they’d messaged each other only hours before, expressing excitement of sunghoon’s returning and checking on one another.

the airport was roaring with noise, the usual bustling and folks wandering around seemed louder than normal today.

maybe it seemed that way because of the nerves y/n felt. she’s wasn’t nervous per say, more so anxious.

the only contact between her and sunghoon for the last months had only been virtual. she’d almost forgotten what his touch felt like.

the intercom switched on, a voice booming through the speaker but y/n couldn’t decipher what they were saying. she was back to glancing around like a madwoman.

she took one last look to the right but when she looked to the left again, the doors were opening. in walked men wearing black paired with masks of the same color.

guards, she thought.

she scrambled to stand up, trying to get to the entrance as quickly as her feet would take her.

y/n shoved through people, hurriedly spitting out ‘excuse me’s’ to everyone she bumped into.

eventually she got through the herd of people, now standing in the middle of the airport, trying to catch a glimpse of those same brown layers she loved.

a few familiar faces walked in but then there was her favorite. his face was still as his eyes dropped with exhaustion. her heart ached but longed for him all at once.

his gaze remained low, looking up every once in a while. she bounced on her feet, hoping he would notice her soon.

the guards and members got closer to where y/n stood, where there was more people. this made sunghoon look up now, not wanting to bump into anyone.

he scanned the building and all the people in it.

and then his gaze landed on her.

the tiredness seemed to fade as his eyes widened in surprise and excitement.

he didn’t run, not wanting to any attention to himself. he pushed passed the guards slightly, causing them to give him confused looks.

y/n’s smile widened at his eagerness, her arms open to embrace him. she began to walk, wanting to meet him halfway.

he quickened his steps, not wanting to wait to be held by her any longer. sunghoon dropped his bags behind him, meeting her in the middle of the airport.

his arms hurriedly pulled her in, embracing her tightly. her scent nearly suffocated him as he rested his face in the crook of her neck but he didn’t care.

he sighed as y/n’s hand ran up and down his back, arms tightening around him.

they rocked side to side, smiling like two lovesick teenagers.

sunghoon pulled his head up from her neck, his hand coming to rest at the back of it instead. his gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips before he closed the gap between them.

he normally wasn’t the type of guy to do the whole pda thing but in that moment, he didn’t care. to him, he and y/n were the only ones in the world. the only ones in the airport.

their lips copied each other’s actions, moving in sync. sunghoon whined in the kiss, his eyebrows furrowing. he’d longed for this moment and now that it was finally happening, he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“you two make me more nauseous than the airplane’s food.” one of sunghoon’s members, sunoo had commented.

the lovebirds pulled away from each other, smiling. sunghoon hugged his girlfriend once more, never wanting to let her go again.

“go grab your bags, babe.” she whispered to him, giggling. he made a noise out of stubbornness but eventually went to pick his bags up off the floor.

he made his way back to y/n, quickly taking his place by her side once more.

she had him glued at the hip and he wasn’t even complaining. he’d confess that he was indeed a simp for her.

if he wasn’t carrying his bags he’d be clinging to her. but instead, he switched his bag to the other hand, his empty one being refilled by the hand of his partner.

“look at sunghoon hyung,” riki teased. “wrapped around y/n’s finger.”

“and?” sunghoon replied, raising an eyebrow at the younger boy.

y/n smiled up at him once his gaze fell back onto her. he grinned, planting a quick kiss on her nose.

“you could have me in your pocket and i wouldn’t mind.” he mumbled so she was the only one to hear.

★ ★ ★

milan’s note: i hope you liked this! i wasnt able to put a lot into it but 🥲

TAGLIST: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @jungwonderz — message or comment to be added.

[reqxxyt]

birthday cake

pairings: max v. x f!reader

warnings: none : ) (except for the constant change of 2nd to 1st pov)

masterlist requests open!

[unedited]

a/n: won't be updating for a while, last month of school is always hell

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Max had been staring at the same recipe for the last 10 minutes, trying to decipher the instructions without making it to hard for him knowing already that he wasn’t the best when it came to baking always leaving it to you. You birthday had been today and he had told himself that he was going to make a birthday cake for you. 

He had felt terrible that you were meant to work on your special day and told you to leave it all to him. With a cautious look on your face the minute he told you, he was more determined to make this the perfect birthday, to prove that he would do just fine without needing your help. 

He now stood in the kitchen covered in flour, staring at the burnt cake he let bake for too long and glancing at the recipe wondering if he could save it or have to start over. With the minimal ingredients he had left, he decided to start over saving the burnt as a back up but knowing it was no longer edible. 

He gave himself words of encouragement, trying to keep his hopes up while now taking his time, double checking every measurement that went into the mixing bowl. The minute it went into the oven, he stared at it not letting his attention leave the cake that was meant to be perfect for you. But he didn’t expect you to be home so soon, having asked your coworker to cover for you. 

“What happened…” your gaze landed on the destroyed kitchen. Flour was covering the counter while some remaining mix was dripping to the floor, most ingredients left out as Max had been sitting on the floor covered in flour staring at the oven. 

Max turned to your shocked expression already feeling terrible just now realizing how much of a big mess he had made in the span of 2 hours. “I tried making a cake” his voice sounding so soft made your heart hurt, not wanting him to think you were annoyed. But yoru silent state only made him worry more as he stood back up ready to apoligize. 

You laughed instead, fluffing out his hair as flour remains flew off. “Thank you” you said with a soft smile and his own smile made your insides warm knowing how much he just wanted to make you happy, feeling appreciated from the person you’ve grown to love over the years. “Let me help you clean up” 

He was about to protest before he saw that you spotted the burnt cake from last time on the corner of the cake. 

“Just keep your eyes on the cake” you said and he just nodded, giving you a soft kiss on the cheek before sitting back down while you cleaned the counters and washed the dishes. After you were finished, you sat down with Max, reaching your hands to his, intertwinnign them as you two stared at the cake waiting for it to finish ensuring that it wont burn with the help of each other. 

After a long chat as we stared at the cake, we finally took it out right before it was starting to brown. Max took out the decorations and we both started, agreeing to do a side each, making up our own designs. We were finally finished and I sighed, tired from the day but relieved I got to spend the rest with Max. 

As you were about to turn, you felt icing drag on your nose and looked to the only one who couldve done it as he looked at you with a mischievous grin. You glared at him, debating whether to make more of a mess at the kitchen or be a decent person. You looked down at the cake in front of me and dragged a bit of icing. Max having an inkling on my plan made a run for it as I dashed to him, racing him to our room, and cornering him. 

“Nowhere to run Max” you said with a small smirk before attacking him, dragging my finger on both sides of his cheeks. He ran as our laughs echoed throughout the house. As he ran back to the kitchen, he swiped another piece of icing before coming back to attack me with more. I ran from him, giggles escaping as I entered the living room nearly tripping before Max caught me only to swipe the icing, dragging it across my lips near my bottom chin. 

Our laughs died down as we stayed still, admiring each other with soft smiles before leaning in exchanging a sweet kiss. We separated, he whispered a simple “happy birthday, schatje” 

“I want cake now” I whispered back making both of us chuckle before heading back to the kitchen splitting the cake and enjoying the rest of the night together. 

[themotherofblood]

Prologue . 1 | RIVER OF FIRE | THE LADY | D.T x R.T x READER

series masterlist | main masterlist

~ where ever you stray, I’d follow. Begging for you to take my hand ~

“Rhaenyra? Rhaenyra… she is the gust of spring air after a bitter winter. She is a child’s first laughter. She is my knight. Our days spent climbing trees and visiting Aemma. Rhaenyra insisted that Syrax is finally large enough to saddle two but I refused her, what if I fell? I am a little too young and too pretty to die just yet. But too Rhaenyra, she is my happiness and I her lady.”

The summer of one hundred and ten years after Aegon's Conquest, you'd remembered the days to be so vibrant. That was your fifth year at Kings Landing, and the second year since the fourteenth day of the fifth moon since you had realized you held passions for Rhaenyra Targaryen.

There was a true sense of sisterhood between Laena, Alicent, Rhaenyra and you. The little ladies that ran the Red Keep a muck, the hordes of giggles and dozens of fabrics that followed everywhere you went. Alicent and Rhaenyra, the older girls of four and ten, Laena and you were two and ten finding yourself in a closer bind of sisterhood, that and your shared love for exotic fauna.

Your fingers had been deep in dirt, planting away yet another exotic seed that Lord Corlys procured for you and Laena, they never understood how you managed to grow them but you did. They thrived in the summer months, while your hands mindlessly packed soil, and your eyes remained on Rhaenyra as she rested her head in Alicent's lap. You couldn't quite decipher the stinging burn in your chest as you watched Alicent twirl Rhae's silver locks in her fingers.

Laena was a silently observant person, she looked between your eye line before dragging you to lay in between the blossomed flower beds. "I wrote for my brother yesterday, demands of sweets and sieges of poetry were demanded of," you told Laena, truly trying to distract yourself. Laena giggled as she shook her head. The softness of her voice echoed with chirps of hummingbirds, the sun crisp against her skin just as it shimmered against yours.

"Silk and gold threads from Lys, and more shells. Father promised me more." Laena continued as she toyed with her sea blue sleeves. "And thanked him on your behalf for the seeds."

Even as you remained deep in conversation with your companion, your eyes held an envious gaze toward Alicent; you hated feeling this way. She was your friend too, you were all friends with each other and yet this unfamiliar feeling gnawed at your insides for over a year. You giggled and chuckled along at all the court gossip of the older ladies being wed and betrothed to the knights of their dreams.

"Lady Laena," Daemon called out from behind you as you shot up to look at him. This man intimidated you to your core and yet provided you with the wisest of wisdom. "Your mother calls for you," he gestured at Laena. She wished you farewell before running off, you shuffled up awkwardly, unaware of what to do, so you turned your eyes to Rhaenyra and she was still too engrossed with Alicent. Your envious gaze bore holes into the brunette girl; you were meant to be friends but you simply couldn't help yourself.

"You ought to look harder, you might envision an arrow in her head." Daemon mused at your glare, you scowled at him and got up. Shrugging your skirts free of dirt and grass.

"You may jest at court all you like, leave me out of it my prince," you looked up at him with a scowl, lip jutted out as your returned to watching Rhaenyra enviously.

"Ah- I humbly apologise princess," he bit his lip from chuckling further at your frustrations, he held your upper arm to stop you from running away.

"How about you join me for a walk? The day is far too beautiful to be wasted," he offered, extending his arm out of you to take. You looked once more to Rhaenyra lounging with Alicent and then you agreed. You didn't want to be alone at that moment. You walked with him in the royal gardens, nobody questioned anything. He was a frequent visitor to his brother's daughter and you. You had found a quiet corner to lay flat on the grass again as Daemon nursed on a flask of...wine.

He offered you some, which you immediately spit out over the bitter taste making him laugh even louder. "Blegh...," you shivered the taste away "what is that?"

The corners of Daemon's eyes crinkled, "moonshine," he shrugged taking two swigs before putting the flash away.

"It's disgusting, death," you coughed getting the burn away from your throat.

"How is your, city watching going," you began an awkward conversation, fully aware that he was about to question you about your sour behaviour today.

"The heathens of King's Landing ought to fear the colour gold from now on," he stated, looking to the skies. There was an odd moment of silence before he spoke up again. "Perhaps Viserys would send out less of an army every time you princesses visited."

"What were the daggers for? Alicent stole your pretty doll or something," he quirked his brow at you, in truth he was concerned that you might have pounced onto Otto Hightower's spawn, having a history of brawling with young lasses at court who dared to test your patience; he hoped you'd fess up. You shook your head to disagree.

"She would never steal my dolls, she has plenty of her own," you stated, ripping at the grass next to you. Pulling them through one by one as a frown pulled over your forehead once more. The image unwavering within your mind, Alicent asking- no, demanding Nyra's attention from dawn to dusk. Yet today they wore matching coloured gown, Nyra wore matching gowns with you, not Alicent. The portrait a bitter taste in your mouth, how do you explain that to a prince notorious for being wild, unchained.

"So you admit, scary little Dornish princess does play with dolls," he teased, referring to the rude remarks that never seemed to stop at court about you.

"What did you expect? That I play with human skulls?" you scoffed, pouting and looking even more upset. The balls of grad that filled your small fists, you lurched at Daemon and then finally caved. "Rhaenyra seems to enjoy Alicent's company more than mine."

"Well," Daemon began, the thoughts swirling in his head projecting across his face "they are friends, and so are you...?" He pushed along, clearly another motive lingering at his tongue.

"Yes we are- we are just friends," you hesitated to elaborate further, afraid you wouldn't find the weight words to profess what you felt.

"Not very ladylike to lie is it, princess?" He cock his brow up, accusing you to weasel your confession out of you.

"We are more than friends I think, more than sisters." You confessed, tethering yourself to the edge of the truth.

"Ah," Daemon let out a knowing sigh "Young love."

"It's wrong," you hissed "It is love, however." you tutted, shaking your head for having these thought, your mind yet agains filling with the image of curt Septa Marlow with a cane in her hand. Death, that's what such thought entail by the Seven.

"Would you be happier if you told her, having a partner is a blessing," he smiled, honestly happy about what you felt for his niece, there wasn't a moment where Daemon wished not to thrive within the mess that was his family, but something so pure and confused sat by his feet. Finding remorse in his heart for both girl, perhaps they would taste the choice he never got should Daemon be King someday as his brother's heir.

"You have a partner, are you happy?" clearly toying with his disdained marriage, he scowled at you. "You spend the better part of the year with us and the rest with your paramour."

"Where have you heard of my paramour?" Daemon let out a questioning scoff, pondering on where might the little princesses had managed to hear of his whore mongering habits.

"Lord Hand may have mentioned something at supper," you shrugged, "The Mother better not provide me with a husband like you, I might lose my mind."

"You are two and ten, what do you know of love." He japed throwing the grass you threw at him back.

"More than you, the writers are better at professing love than you my prince. Perhaps I could lend you a book." You teased back.

"Perhaps you could," He chortled, leaning back against the tea bark.

"You should bring Lady Rhea a cat, perhaps a white one." You offered, genuine advice, everyone loved cats; apart from Queen Aemma, they made her sneeze like a mad woman. "She'd be more agreeable."

Damon laughed, "She may actually poison the poor thing."

You never understood why Daemon was so open to half the things you and Rhaenyra hurled at him. Young ladies often confessed to their septas but you were sure she would have painted your palms red with a cane if you confessed that you loved a girl. The more your head toiled with those immoral questions, you grew silent once more.

"Apart from your lady wife; had you ever found love?" You asked him out of sheer curiosity.

"You are far too young to worry about such things little princess." He said while shaking his head, his eyes soft as he tried to find a solution to your juvenile problems. "Perhaps if you do want to confess your love, you ought to kiss her."

You shot up straight, looking at him confused "What if do and then I'm with a babe- I don't want a babe; I'd be ruined!" You hissed

Daemon slapped his palm on his forehead "Who has told you of such falsehoods?"

"Septa Marlow did." Your mind began wondering, what would Rhaenyra's babes look like...

"Demented hag," He muttered under his breath "I can assure you, princess, one does not come with a child from a kiss; if that were so. King's Landing would be swarming with my bastards."

"Oh- so I can kiss her?" You blushed, and a new hope flared in your chest.

"Yes, as much as you like." He smiled at your excitement.

"Your grace," A servant girl bowed as she entered the gardens "Dinner has been served in his grace's solar."

Daemon escorted you to his brother's solar, Viserys was already in his seat with Aemma. Just as their family poured into his solar, Aemma's face lit up. You moved around the table, bowing to Viserys before pressing a kiss on Aemma's cheek before sitting down next to her. Her mothering began the second she saw you, tutting at stray pieces of grass tangled in your hair.

"How are feeling today, your grace." You questioned about her condition, yet another pregnancy that she announced four moons before and since then her face began paling, she couldn't join you in the Godswood to help you garden your plants.

"Better, the babe should begin kicking soon enough." She said as she rubbed her belly.

"The boy shall add another to your army I reckon," Viserys japed, letting out a fatherly chuckle along with Daemon.

The doors creaked open when Rhaenyra finally arrived, she too pressed a kiss to her mother and then her father's cheek before sitting herself across from you. "Forgive me, I was carried away with Alicent."

You wanted to scream at the back of your mouth, you didn't want to feel this way. Alicent was your friend, you were a good girl and not a bully. You were being cruel to her in your head but you couldn't stand how much time Alicent was taking away from Rhaenyra. Taking her to the fool's shows and bird watching, she even took Rhaenyra to the Sept. Rhaenyra does not pray, let alone believe in the seven!

You toyed with your food for a while, pushing peas back and forth with your fork, to which Viserys took note "You ought to eat child." He voiced his concerns about making your fork stop its scraping.

"Forgive me, your grace, I'm not very hungry." You shrugged "May I please be excused?"

Viserys looked around the table and sighed, nodding. You said your farewells and sprinted to your room. You breathed out deep stress-infused sighs, grumbling under your breath as you cuddled a pillow on your window bed.

Stupid...stupid girl for thinking she would feel the same way for you, other than a sister.

What if she felt that way for Alicent? Mayhaps that's the reason she began to pull away from you...

It was sinful in so many ways, pillow biters. That's what the older ladies sniggered about in the halls. Were you a pillow bitter? Could girls even be pillow bitters? You tried to concentrate on the book you decided to finish and yet your mind just wouldn't seize its endless blathering.

Your door opened after a series of knocks, in walked Queen Aemma with two servant girls, hauling along a tray of fruits and a glass of milk. "It isn't wise to go to bed on an empty stomach, it will ache tomorrow." She patted your hair, choosing to sit opposite you. "Finish the whole thing."

You whined at the cup of milk, you didn't exactly hate the beverage but gods did it taste absurd some days. She gave you a comforting push, smiling as you tried to consume the cup in one go; perhaps that way your tongue wouldn't linger in its flavour afterwards. You sighed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Good girl," She said, looking out the glaring moon that graced your window "Now tell me what disturbs you? Is it your home again?"

If only it were that simple, you stopped crying about your home more than three years ago, your father abandoned you and your brother was the sole reason your blood still stained its Dornish colours. You meekly shook your head, hoping she would leave the subject at that.

"If it's people at court sweetling, if they malign you in any way. You must tell me." She gently held your jaw, lowering her face to make you meet her glistening eyes.

"Yes, your grace."

"Alright then," She leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead, before letting you reciprocate with one on her cheek "Do not stay awake for too long."

You remembered your conversation with Daemon, more so how he always seemed to acquire what he wanted by the sheer strength of his will. The sheer strength of your will, that's what you need. Just a little bit of bravery, for what is the worst that could happen. They have your gelded for making an impasse at the only crown princess of the Targaryen dynasty.

You padded your feet over next door, greeting Ser Westerling who was stationed outside your and Rhaenyra's apartments for tonight. Her room was empty, though prepared for her slumber as fresh incense burned off her receiving table, linens just moved around to sleep in. You shuffled yourself onto her bed. Sitting on your knees at the centre.

"Rhaenyra I love you, in a not sisterly way..."

"I speak from the depth of my heart, I profess my devotion to you sweet princess... no...no that is far too melodramatic."

You began speaking to yourself in your head, insanity, pure insanity. You were sure if you thought too hard; you'd lose yourself in your own mind full of cats, dragons and knights and ten versions of Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra's chamber doors finally opened, she shuffled in; pulling at her earrings as she kicked her slippers away before pulling a sack from her pockets to place on her dresser. Humming a little song under her breath before her eyes fell on you sitting in her bed, she squealed. Placing a palm on her chest, clearly shuddered in shock.

"Seven- what are you doing here?" She questioned, eyes wide as she pushed the little sack away further.

"You didn't come to hug me before bed- so I thought I would visit you." You shrugged awkwardly

"I- I was with Alicent, lost track of time." She said as she stretched the back of her neck.

"Oh-"

Don't say it

Don't say it- you fought your tongue with all your might

"Princess, do you not wish to be my friend anymore?" You said sounding insecure and solemn.

Rhaenyra looked taken aback "What makes you say that."

"You spend all your time with Alicent, going to the markets, the Sept and spend your evenings in her solar... it's just she is your friend too but I rarely see you anymore." You mumbled your words out in one giant sentence.

"I- you silly duck." She curled her lips in her mouth to stifle a growing smile. "We were making preparations for your name day." She confessed, looking amused at your pouted face.

"So...you do want to be my friend." You questioned again to be clear.

"Why would I not." she exclaimed throwing herself onto her bed "You shall always be my dearest companion." She pulled you down into a hug.

Tell her

Tell her

Daemon's voice taunted you.

"Can I kiss you?" You blurted out, your palms began to sweat

Please do not me have gelded

Or beheaded

Rhaenyra looked at you quizzically before turning her head to offer you her cheek. That too in definition was a kiss but that wasn't what you meant. You fumbled with your fingers as your brain racked up ways to confess your passions for your dearest princess

"I meant- have you ever noticed how Viserys always goes straight to Aemma whenever she visits him, the first he does is kisses her." You said trying not to fumble over your words "Well, whenever you visit my stomach flutters in butterflies and all I want to do is kiss you."

Rhaenyra tilts her head, looking confused yet almost grasping at what you meant.

"I love you," You confessed

"So do I." She replied innocent words shared many times over between the two of you.

"No- I love you like a knight would his lady." You elaborate, again fear flaring in your chest.

Please do not have me exiled

"Like a knight loves his lady...?" She repeated, thoughts flooding behind her purple eyes "So are you the knight or the lady."

"I- what?" Her reply confused you, was she happy; was she mad? You couldn't quite place an emotion on her face "Uh- the lady."

"Then I love you like a knight too," She replied smiling ear to ear.

"Wait you do?" You were sure the smile that spread on your face made you look like a drunken fool but you had not a care in the known.

She nodded eagerly "Do we kiss now?"

"I believe so," You agreed, heat rushing to your cheek as your pursed your lips towards her, her soft lips pressed against yours as she graced you with a chaste kiss.

The two of you broke apart in a fit of giggles, Rhaenyra blushed red as you fanned at your warm face.

"That was very nice," she said awestruck, before pulling you closer for another.

"My knight," you whispered against her lips.

next chapter

[celinin-archive]

Celestino Vietti, I’m one with the bike 

From the Piemonte Alps to Moto2. Interview to the SKY Racing Team VR46 talent 

“The most beautiful memory I have of my childhood is tied to a three wheels bike. My dad had built it for my older brother, using the engine of a grass trimmer. I used to look at my brother going around on it in the backyard, then one day I asked to try it: once I got on it I irremediably fell in love with engines. Once I got down from that first trial I immediately asked my dad to buy me a two wheels motorbike. “To have a bike without training wheels you first have to know how to ride with them”, was his answer. So I started training and at eight years old I found myself riding in my first italian championship...” 

Celestino Vietti is lightness, a youthly lightness, a mature lightness, a fast lightness, cheeky to the right degree. Not yet twenty, he’s approaching his first Moto2 season, wearing the SKY Racing Team VR 46 leathers on Marco Bezzecchi’s side. 

Leathers that ‘Celin’ paints with the colours of his region, Piemonte. Right in Coassolo Torinese, small settlement wedged between the Valli di Lanzo, two wheels racing had started indelibly marking his life. An atypical place, Alpi Graie, to be the natal place of a world championship level rider. A place that becomes typical as soon as you open wide the doors of the Vietti’s home. 

“My uncle and my dad have always been big enthusiasts. My dad even did some uphill races when he was young. I lived all my childhood in a motorsport enviroment. My relatives had and still now have an agricultural machine repair shop that rapidly became a mandatory stop of my summers. There I used to take apart chainsaws and everything else I could find. Now I realise that the time spent in the repair shop gifted me a better feeling with the engine, with mechanics. My dad also gave me a lot of tools to read and understand the bike’s problems: thanks to him my bond with the bike got to a superior level. It’s as if I feel more merged with what I have under me, I listen to every single sound, I know how to decipher and manage it...” 

A management that for this young promise of two wheels racing hasn’t been and isn’t limited to the technical side, overflowing in the character, human one. Sat in the shades of the WITHU paddock, what immediately hits you of Celestino are the lucidity in the self-analysis, the ease in communicating, in summarising the different steps he took in such a short, but already so full, life. 

“To follow my dream I had to move out of my home during adolescence. The first months were so fast, everything was new, new experiences, new acquaintances. Once you settle you start thinking that once you get home from training nobody is there to wait for you. Relatives, friends, everybody is distant, everything starts getting hard. I had to grow on a personal level and, consequently, as a rider. Situations like this teach you how to manage yourself on the emotional side: sometimes I tend to get angry easily, being this much on your own helps you to reflect, to remain lucid” 

Vietti’s growth was mainly through the motorsport Academy for definition, that two wheels paradise build by the tarmac’s ‘Doctor’. A restricted cenacle reserved only to those who are destined to make an art form out of racing. Disciples, students, riders waiting to see their own boundless talent explode. 

“Getting into the VR46 Racing Academy was a turning point. It's important to realise your luck, the privilege you have to train every day with the best riders in the World Championship. Every time you get on track it’s an enormous challenge, there’s always somebody faster than you. I try to look at everyone, we’re many, we’re ‘colourful’, everyone has a certain characteristic to learn from: I have by my side two World Champions and then Vale, my idol, I think there’s nothing else to add...” 

He slightly moves his hair out of the way, Celestino, when he talks about topics he’s particularly sensible about. He smiles, a sincerely emotional smile, when he gets asked what the bike means for him, for his being. A question that strikes way higher chords than the sports one. 

“When you go really fast you become one with her, you find a magic harmony. Whatever she wants to do, you do it too, you become one thing. When she wants to do one thing, and you want to do another one instead, you struggle. True struggle. You can feel the separation between the two bodies. For me the bike has some sort of life of his own: it’s something difficult to explain” 

Difficult to explain, evocative to listen to. There’s dept in the words of this barely more than teenager rider of the Sky Team. On him also weight hopes and expectations of many italian fans, charmed by his results in the 2020 Moto3 season and the two first places obtained in the Styrian and France GP. 

Celestino is lucid in his analysis of the big jump to Moto2, a natural jump, even though initially complex. The piemonte rider need a settling period, an adjustment phase that now appears completed, processed. To demonstrate it, an always growing confidence in placements and continuity of performances, an exponentially growing mental and sensorial presence. 

“The impact with Moto2 was difficult. It’s a very particular category, unlike Moto3 it rewards constancy, precision, the bike doesn’t want to be assaulted, you can’t afford to do ‘crazy’ lap and feel satisfied. You have to curate the rhythm, you need surgical attention. Now my goal is to get as high as I can in the standings, to continue with the positive feelings of the last races and to keep building up unity with the bike. The future? Everybody’s dream is to become world champion, it’s useless beating around the bush, I’ll work hard to be able to make it” 

[freshfraise]

ALL OR NOTHING - PROLOGUE

pairing: kylian mbappé x reader

summary: Childhood sweethearts. After a tearful, transformative departure at just 19, four years pass by. And now, at 23, you are being forced to awkwardly reunite with your ex-boyfriend to fulfill your dreaded journalistic duties.

author’s note: AHHHH!! i’m so excited to carry out this series honestly,,, this first chapter is a bit of insight of y/n and ky’s relationships <3333 first time writing angst also so… 🫣 give me feedback!! enjoy <3

2018 | BONDY

“I’m done.” 

You stated, as a saline tear slips out from your eye. As the tear crossed your frigid cheek and seeped into your mouth, it painfully affirmed your dread. Your gaze is stuck to the floor, tracing out patterns with weeping eyes. You realised everything too late, too late for reconciliation or any broken apologies. After the renowned World Cup win a couple months ago, the dynamic between you and Kylian changed. It felt like you two were in two completely different universes, attempting to find a common ground. It just wasn’t feasible. You felt neglected, and he once knew how much you despised feeling needy. You hated begging your boyfriend to talk to you for a couple minutes or to kiss you for a few seconds.

You were sat at the kitchen island, as Kylian stood in front of you, grasping your hands and scanning your solemn face intently, attempting to decipher the magnitude of your statement. Just minutes prior, you called him here to discuss something dire, not expecting yourself to be capable of wholly following through afterwards.

“Wh- What?” Kylian stuttered, clearly confused at your revelation. One hand left your right hand’s grasp, and squeezed your forearm fondly. The other hand, cupped your chin, picking up your jaw and forcing your irises to connect with his. You could barely make out his face with tears clouding your vision, but in spite of that, you could still make out a distraught expression on his countenance. 

“Please stop crying, Je t’aime. Talk to me.” He uttered, as he placed a small peck on both your eyelids. You shivered under his touch. It was the first time in months that you were physically  reminded of his affection for you. That he once loved you. Instinctively, you leaned forward to meet his forehead, remaining connected. “Talk to me.” He murmured gently, his thumb still rubbing your shaking hands.

With an exasperated sigh, you broke off from him tearfully, because you knew if you stayed any longer, all of this pent up courage would be gone and you would fall right back into his doting arms. He pinched his lips together, apprehensive of what’s to come.

“I’m breaking up with you,” You couldn’t believe the words that were stumbling out of your mouth. Your sweaty hands quivering, you try your hardest to clasp any sort of poise. Kylian stood still, on the other side of the island, utterly in shock of what you’d said. He bit his bottom lip and pulled his head back towards the ceiling. 

“Don’t do this. Please. You’re the only thing in my life that feels right.” He whispered, under his breath, his voice trembling. Your heart pulsated harshly, feeling a deep, throbbing hurt in every inch of your body. Tears threaten to spill from the crevices of your eyes, so, similarly to Kylian, you tip your head towards the ceiling and fiercely bite your tongue.

“This is probably the longest we’ve been together in weeks, Ky. We barely- We don’t talk to each other anymore. We don’t touch each other, it’s like I’m living with a stranger. It hurts, but- despite everything, despite all the hurt, I don’t want you to sacrifice your ambition for anyone. Not even me. I’ve told you that since we were fourteen. And even though I told you to, right now, you’re so focused on these dreams, that I don’t know whether to be proud or hurt.” You expressed, without much thought or pause.

He nodded mindlessly. His nostril flared outwards as he breathed out shakily, flashing an unsolicited dimple. In a few strides, he engulfed you in a hug. You counted each heartbeat that reverberated against your face, as he stared down at you lovingly. “You know when I told you we were different, unlike other couples?” You whisper against his chest. He hesitated briefly, his breath catching in his throat at the memory, then nodded. “I meant it. Which is why I know we’ll find our way back to each other again.”

He pulled out of the hug steadily, and made his way towards a seat. His lean arms propped up on his knees, he places his strained eyes in his calloused palms. “Kylian?”

He sits up, his eyes blood red. His eyebrows slanted inwards, he shakes his head painfully. A wave of sadness crashes into your heart, as you watch him fight back tears.

“I love you, and I don’t want to be with anyone else but you, Y/N. Je veux fonder une famille avec toi. Épouse-la. It’s always going to be you. Only you. Forever and always. You are my past, present and future. Ma vie.” He says strained, his breath catching and forming a feeble hiccup. You grew up with him, and both of you knew that you wanted to continue doing so with each other. You couldn’t imagine it any other way. You let out a deep sigh and bit the skin of your cheek. You walk towards him, leaning down to cup his tear stained face.

“Kylian Mbappé, I am in love with you. I have been my whole entire life, and that won’t change. No matter how much it may look like it, I will never be able to love someone like how I love you. Right now, we both need time to ourselves. To get better, to grow. We aren’t giving each other our 100%, and we’ve always said-”

“All or nothing.” He finished your sentence, nodding regrettably. 

“All or nothing.”

- - -

chapter one

[gavisuntiedboot]

You are Everything (Gavi x reader)

28 day writing prompt challenge - prompts are linked here

Day 3: "I love you."

"Amor, turn the lights off and come to bed."

You and Gavi had been dating for several months now. Given the nature of his job, you didn't get to see him often if you weren't at his house. So this evening, like many others, you were at Pablo's apartment to spend the night so that you could have some quality time together. Unfortunately, you were also a university student, which meant that nights at Pablo's were never free from studying or homework. Tonight was no exception. You were sitting on the couch, laptop open in front of you with notes scattered as you tried to figure out your problem set.

"I can't right now, Pablo. I need to finish this."

"Amor, you can finish in the morning. Tomorrow is Sunday. Just get some sleep, and it might be easier to do when you're well rested."

You turned to look at Gavi, eyes tired and body aching. You pulled your glasses off your face. Before you could make a smart comment at him, your eyes began to water, and then you were crying. Gavi's concern was obvious. He got out of bed and came over to you, hugging your form that was shaking with sobs.

"Baby what happened?" He said, softly rubbing circles into your back. You couldn't speak. Sobs wracked your body. You used your remaining strength to stand, and Gavi took the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, embracing you tightly. You continued to cry into his shoulder. He switched off the light, leading both of you to the bed. He laid down with you, keeping you close to his chest. He rubbed circles into your back, placing gentle kisses on your forehead.

"I won't be able to do it Pablo. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever. I'm stupid. I don't know why I convinced myself I could do this degree. I'm an idiot and I should drop out." You said softly sniffling against his chest. He separated the two of you slightly, moving one hand up to caress your face.

"Amor don't ever say that about yourself. You are incredibly intelligent and hard working, and you are more than capable of finishing this degree with excellence. I see how much effort you put in. I see the dedication. I see the lack of sleep and sacrificing meals so you can keep studying. I see how you haul your books here every night so I can see you and you can get work done. I'm always in awe of how smart you are. My girl is wonderful and intelligent and sexy. Please don't allow yourself to think anything different. You're amazing."

Your eyes welled up with tears again.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Because I love you. You're my girl."

Your breath caught in your throat. This was the first time either of you had said it. You stared deeply into his eyes, trying to decipher if he meant it in a romantic way or not.

"Pablo you don't even know what love is."

"Yes I do. Love is that feeling I get after every kiss, where my heart swells and I feel like I'm on another planet. It's the way that sometimes I look at you in the morning, with the sun hitting your face, and you're so beautiful it hurts to breathe. Everything in this world reminds me of you: the blue of the sky, the smell of the rain, the feeling of the sun on my skin. Everything makes me think of you, and you're all I want to think of. You are everything. I love you."

You looked up at him with wet eyes.

"Say it again."

"I," he kissed your forehead, "love," another kiss to the cheek, "you." He punctuated the statement with a deep and passionate kiss.

"I love you. I think I will continue loving you till I'm no longer on this Earth. I love you I love you I love you."

"Pablito... I love you too."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: a little short, but hope y'all enjoyed! I am literally falling asleep while typing. On a more personal note, I submitted my application for Grad school today. Clap for me pls. Part 3 of "Just Pretend" taking longer than I thought - sorry for the delay!

[hermionegalathynius]

The 2nd time Steve surprised you.

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Warnings: talk of family issues on Steve’s part.

“What do you think they’re talking about in there?” You asked Robin as you kept her company while she scooped ice cream. 

  After the chaos six months ago through which Dustin’s friend Eleven closed the gaping hole in the material of the universe, you and Steve Harrington actually managed to become friends. Through babysitting Dustin and his gang of troublemakers, you began to see a lot more of the guy. At school, it seemed he had lost his ‘King Steve’ title, as well as most of his friends after his break-up with Nancy. While you had a few friends at school due to band, you mostly kept to yourself during the day, but this changed as Steve (not wanting to remain seated next to Nancy in certain classes) moved next to you. According to the boy in question, he had just asked those teachers to move him and they had coincidentally placed him next to you in every. Single. Class. 

  Not that you were complaining. When he was away from his asshole friends, Steve Harrington was a decent guy and actually pretty funny. It came as a surprise to the both of you, but conversation became really easy, and time flew by when you were together. Eventually you developed a routine where the two of you would go get Benny’s Burgers whenever you’d had to drop the kiddies off somewhere. The tradition started during the Winter Ball when Dustin had insisted Steve tag along to drop him off for emotional support. The older boy had actually come early to help your brother with his hair and show him how to style it. The image of the two of them fussing over Dustin’s untameable curls definitely shouldn’t have made your heart melt the way it did. 

  After Dustin had clambered out Steve’s BMW, you and him had decided to stop by Benny’s to get dinner while you waited for the agreed-upon time at which you needed to pick Dustin up. It was the first time you were actually spending time alone with Steve since the demodogs, and it was… nice. 

  Then, summer had arrived. You and Steve were officially graduated. While you planned to use the summer holidays as a time to rest before you moved up to Indianapolis to work in a theatre orchestra for a year, Steve’s dad made him get a job. The boy had spent a good hour sitting in the car outside Benny’s, ranting to you about how much the man infuriated him. You sympathised, expressing your own disapproval of his father’s actions and attitude towards Steve. As far as you were concerned, the man clearly didn’t know his son very well, because if he could just see the wonderful man he was growing up to be, maybe he wouldn’t be so harsh on him. 

  One of the biggest shocks that came over the summer, was Steve working alongside Robin at Scoops Ahoy. When the boy had called you halfway through his first week on the job and begged you to come save him from his mean coworker, you had been delightfully surprised to find out that his ‘mean coworker’ was in fact your friend Robin Buckley from high school band. 

  To Steve’s dismay, he ended up having to share you with Robin, who he was liking less and less now that she had you on her side. 

  That’s why, when Dustin came home from camp, he jumped at the opportunity to help the kid translate a Russian code in the back room. 

  “From what I can hear,” said Robin, replying to your question, “they are trying to decipher a secret Russian communication your strange brother intercepted on his mega-radio.”

  You had literally left the store for twenty minutes to drive Max and Eleven to Starcourt mall after the two girls had called begging you to take them. Twenty minutes, and the two boys were already looking for trouble. 

   “Russian communication?!” 

  Your friend shrugged, holding up her hand and placing her forefinger and thumb half an inch apart, “Honestly, I’m this close to marching in there and insisting I help them just so Steve will come out and switch with me.”

  Your huffed a laugh, “If you do, I’ll come with you. I don’t need to witness another one of Steve’s failed attempts at flirting with the customers.”

  Robin groaned suddenly as Lucas’s sister and her group of My Little Pony fanatics entered the store. 

  “Not again,” she muttered. 

  You winced and gave her a pat on the shoulder, “Want me to hurl Steve up here so he can deal with it?”

  She shook her head, “Nah, I’ll push through. This is my last customer for the morning though. After, you and I are gonna go help your strange brother translate his Russian code and dumbass can sling ice cream.”

  With a grin, you hopped up onto the small surface behind the counter and leant back on your hands as Robin dealt with Erica’s relentless ‘tasting’. 

  After fifteen, excruciating minutes, the gaggle of girls finally left and you and Robin were free to go into the break room. 

  “Alright, babysitting time is over, you need to get in there,” Robin stated, pushing through the door, you trailing behind her with a smirk aimed at Steve that said ‘you’re in for it now, sucker’. 

  “Hey, my board! That was important data shitbirds!” the blonde yelled, whirling on the two boys. 

  You eyes snapped to the whiteboard hanging on the wall, and sure enough, instead of the usual shipment dates and stock numbers, the Russian alphabet was written out in bright red marker with its English counterparts labelled in black. Your smirk widened and you raised your brows at Steve who was halfway through popping a piece of banana in his mouth. His eyes widened innocently and you rolled yours. 

  “I can guarantee you, what we’re doing is way more important than your data,” Dustin replied. Honestly, you weren’t sure if you should be impressed or afraid for your little brother at his adamant cheek towards your significantly scary friend. 

  “Oh yeah?” Robin challenged, walking to stand opposite the table to Dustin and Steve. Ever the loyal friend, you moved to stand beside her, crossing your arms. 

  “Yeah,” Dustin said, keeping his ground. 

  You sighed, “And how do you know these Russians are up to no good anyway?”

  The boys froze — Steve still had a mouth full of banana when Dustin demanded in a lowered tone, “How do they know about the Russians?”

  “I don’ know!” the older boy protested around the banana.

  “Did you tell them about the Russians?”

  “It wasn’t me!”

  “Hello, we can hear you!” Robin exclaimed, clearly becoming pissed off. In all honesty, you were too. Sure, you’re brother was a little science genius, but you had taught him almost everything he knew — except for all of the stuff Mr Clark had taught him. He got his passion for science from the same gene pool you did. It was about time Dustin started acknowledging your superior level of intellect as the older sibling. 

  “Actually, we can hear everything you’re saying,” you added in, “You’re both extremely loud.”

  “You think you have evil Russians plotting against our country on tape and you’re trying to translate but you haven’t figured out a single word because you didn’t realise the Russians use an entirely different alphabet than we do,” Robin continued. 

  You both watched as they looked at each other in defeat, clearly beat. Steve was refusing to meet your eyes. 

  “Sound about right?” she finished. 

  Thinking on your feet, you lurched forward, making a grab for the tape lying on the table. Steve — realising your aim — was too fast for you and grabbed the tape out from under your fingertips. 

  “Woah, woah! What are you doing?” he yelled, hugging the tape to his chest. You glared at him, blowing a flyaway strand of hair from your eyes. 

  “We want to hear it.”

  “Why?” The boys asked in unison. 

  “Because maybe we can help,” Robin said, shrugging. 

  “She’s fluent in four languages,” you pointed out, pinning your brother and your best friend with a stare. 

  Dustin perked up, “Russian?” he asked.

  “Ouyay aryay umbraday,” Robin recited. You stifled a laugh, knowing she just called Dustin dumb in pig latin. 

  “Oh ho ho ho!” Steve exclaimed. 

  “Holy shit!” said Dustin. 

  “That was pig latin, dingus,” Robin told them. 

  Steve smacked Dustin’s arm, “Idiot.”

  You rolled you eyes again. 

  “But,” Robin continued, sliding into a seat, “I can speak Spanish, and French and Italian.”

  “And we’ve both been in band for twelve years,” you added.

  “Yeah, our ears are little geniuses, trust me,” Robin finished, “What do you say?”

  She directed the last question at Steve. He laughed dryly, beginning to shake his head. 

  “Come on! It’s your turn to sling ice cream, my turn to translate! I don’t even want credit I’m just bored!” she complained, torso resting on the table too dramatically. 

  You looked at Steve and found him watching you, an expression of defeat on his face. You grinned, knowing he was about to give in. 

  “Fine,” he said, “But only if Y/n comes with to keep me company.”

  “What? No! I want to help too!” you exclaimed. 

  “Deal,” Robin said, and Steve handed her the tape. 

  You whirled a betrayed expression on Robin, “Traitor!”

  She smiled apologetically, “Sorry, kid. It’s like I told them. I’m bored.”

  You sighed, and accepted Steve’s hand to drag you back out into the store. 

  “I don’t know why you’re complaining,” he whined, “You’re my best friend.”

  Deciding to just grin and bare it, you bumped your hip against his as he grabbed a scooper, “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

  He pouted, “I’ve barely seen you this summer even though you’ve been right in the store with me.”

  Your heart warmed at his words as you jumped back onto the counter again, “You been missing me, Harrington?”

  His cheeks flushed as he leant against the counter next to you, “I…” he sighed, taking off his sailor hat and running a hand through his hair, “Every night I go home to my jackass father telling me how disappointed he is in me and explaining why I’m a terrible son. It’s been like that for as long as I can remember, and until a few months ago I had nothing to help me cope. Then I met you, and we became friends, and suddenly I could look forward to seeing you everyday.”

  You weren’t sure you were breathing. 

  “I know I don’t say it enough, but I need you. And I miss you even if you’ve only been gone five minutes.”

  “Steve,” you breathed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.”

  He shrugged, finally meeting your gaze with a shaky smile, “It’s not your fault.”

  “You have to know I need you too, right?” You said, leaning against him and resting your head on his shoulder, “I’m generally someone who likes her own company, but with you I never feel like I have to back away for a moment and take a breather. Back in high school I was always a little tense in the mornings because I knew I would have to interact with people I’m not comfortable around, but then I’d get to my locker and see you standing there and suddenly I could relax.”

  Something in your chest was aching as you spoke, and the truth behind your words brought a surge of affection for the boy next to you that definitely exceeded the boundaries of friendship. 

  The two of you sat like that in comfortable silence for a moment. At some point during your confession, Steve had tilted his own head to rest on yours as his hands fiddled mindlessly with his scooper. 

  Then two familiar girls walked into the store, giggling like the children they were and you frowned.

  “Is El even allowed here? I didn’t check before I drove the two of them…” you mused.

  “Either way,” Steve said, pushing off the counter, “That’s my cue to do my job.”

[moriartyluver]

FALSE LOVERS CHAPTER IX

MANY MONTHS HAD PASSED since the incident at Ashfordshire Estate and (name)'s newfound kindness and affection towards William ,who had technically saved her life even though it wasn't in much need of saving according to her, had quickly deteriorated for one reason and one reason alone...

"My lady, Lord Moriarty has sent another letter..and a gift," Josephine said as she entered (name)'s room with a gift wrapped parcel and a letter.

(Name) didn't even bat an eye or break her concentration from the book she was reading, 'Frankenstein' by Mary Shelley . "Put them with the others," she said in a bored tone, jerking her head to the side where grey eyes landed on a pile of gifts, all from different noblemen who had attempted to receive her hand in marriage.

"The pile with more letters." She reminded, sensing Josephine's hesitation.

Her eyes shifted to a separate pile which consisted of many letters and the gifts, which had mostly been unwrapped, were different to that of the ones in the first pile. The gifts were more sincere and instead of sappy letters consisting of terrible poetry, or sweet nothings, the letters were straightforward, kind, but clearly had one goal in mind. There was the odd letter with terrible handwriting in comparison to his regular cursive, which were all clearly written in a drunken state. He would write a few strange things in the letters, such as odd little compliments that (name) couldn't decipher the meanings off, instead she felt sorry for his brothers.

After William had brought it up first at the ball, where they danced together before (name) ran off to Ashfordshire, he had been pestering her about how good she would be on the team, in person, in letters and he had even once broken into her bedroom in attempt to convince her, but that had lead to fracture in William's leg so he stopped for about a week before flooding her mailbox again.

"His leg finally healed and now he decides to get bolder? What a desperate man.." (name) muttered to herself while Josephine struggled to keep William's stacks of letters from falling.

All of them had been read but each said almost the same thing, along the lines of 'please join me in my endeavours to create a new world free of the class system', occasionally they would come with gifts ranging from her favourite flowers or jewellery with her favourite diamonds or gems or book recommendations or chocolates that she actually liked and even, at one point, a cute little stuffed cat toy which held a close resemblance to the woman.

Josephine finished placing the gift, which once it had been opened by (name) turned out to be a customised chess set with a little note telling her to practice her chess skills with a little smiley face When the two weren't studying to fuel their rivalry in their youth, William would sometimes challenge (name) to chess and since their first game, she had still not won once.

As her aide had left to go get more mail, presumably from other noblemen who were desperately trying to win her affections with no avail, (name) had opened the letter and read it intently.

Ah, now this was new.

An invitation to the Moriarty manor in London to discuss a potential arrangement to the two. The strange thing was, that William had written that if she had come to this one meeting and she didn't agree, he would leave her alone.

Was this a trap? What if he blackmailed her into joining him..no..she had nothing worth using as blackmail. Everything she had done could easily be flipped or blamed onto someone else, not that she would do that but until she was satisfied with her goal, she wanted to remain untouched by gossip or persecution at least for now until she could return to (home country) when she would need to claim her title as Grand duchess and work as a political advisor, not the most ideal job, but it had to be done so she held no objections to it.

"Josephine," (name) called out to the girl as she turned her head to face the door to her bedroom where Josephine stood with various flowers and shallow gifts from all sorts of noblemen and her weekly letter from her parents. "What is my schedule like for the remainder of the week?"

The now 15 year old placed down the items in their corresponding piles and spoke from memory as she approached her mistress "as I recall, there are no balls this week, and apart from a few meetings with the Marquis in regards to taking care of his business affairs, you should be free the day after tomorrow, Wednesday and you have a tea party with Lady Sinclair on Friday . I believe there may be a ball next week aswell. "

(Name) smiled and nodded, placing her hand on Josephine's head, which wasn't difficult due to her short stature, patting her affectionately. Josephine returned the smile then proceeded to question what her lady had wished to arrange.

"I am to visit the Moriarty Manor," she said, taking out a piece of  paper and a pen, quickly writing a short response with an oddly casual tone for the usually formal and elegant lady.

Dear Lord William,

If this must be what it takes for you to a top sending these preposterous letters and leave me to exist in peace, I shall take up your invitation to visit you. Expect me on Wednesday.

P.s. I have been working on my chess skills, fool. I'll beat you in no time.

From Lady (name)

"But I thought you weren't responding to any of his letters, your ladyship?" Josephine inquired as she passed the letter with the (last name) family seal to (name). "You're no longer upset with him, are you?"

"I haven't the faintest clue as to what he's planning but he did write that he'll stop bothering me if I do go.." she trailed off, opening the letter which had clearly been written by (name)'s mother in (mother tongue).

(Name) sighed in exasperation as she finished it. Another letter from her parents inquiring about a marriage. She didn't wish to marry any of her current admirers, that was for sure. The lady didn't really want to marry at all but as a lady in 19th century Britain, there really was not another option. Perhaps she could marry an older man and poison him to become a widow with no need for marriage.

Her parents did not wish to force her, that was clear. Instead they gave her time and space to pick her own husband and hopefully one she loved but no matter how it was put, it was an expectation and requirement to secure her title as the future Grand duchess and with her uncle's habit to keep mistresses but not wives nor with any legitimate children, she may also inherit the title as both the Grand Duchess and Marchioness (name) (last name). Her status wasn't making her marriage situation any easier

Most of the men who were sending her these 'love' letters wished either for her as their exotic little doll or her title.

Out of anger, (name) scrunched up the letter into a ball and threw it into the fireplace where it burnt to a crisp.

"My lady, are you alright?" Josephine asked, evidently worried "Did the letter upset you..?"

(Name) pinched her forehead and muttered to herself "another marriage reminder..I must do something..would marrying a man who has no interest in me would be ideal..a fake marriage wouldn't be a bad idea..but then there's the matter of children which would be necessary to continue my bloodline because I am their only daughter.."

These thoughts had been troubling her a lot more recently after the nobility now viewed the woman to be 'on the marriage market'. She had considered becoming a governess or something of the sort but a governess wouldn't usually be a woman of such high social standing and ther aim to become a professor would also be impossible if that were to occur.

(Name) thought it was foolish though, to call it a marriage market. It was as if she was being sold to man she did not wish to marry. That's how she had perceived it to be anyways.

At parties, men would ask to dance with her and ask her unnecessarily intimate questions which made her feel she was being constantly interviewed about marriage. Questions on topics such as how many children she wanted, her skills, her ability to manage a household and even what kind of man she desired.

"It's be suspicious if I didn't get married, right, Josephine?" (Name) then lifted her head up "and if I did marry someone,  they would have to know of the...crimes..I commit, along with my grand scheme for the empire, correct?"

Josephine nodded, unsure of what she could say to help Lady (name) who sighed in irritation.

"Oh what am I to do.."

"Lady (name) (last name), would you do the honour of marrying me?"

(Name) looked at William who was holding a little gold ring with a red gem on it in between his thumb and index finger.  She rolled her eyes as she accepted, holding her hand out for him to slip the ring onto its designated finger. The blond kissed her hand gently before (name) demanded that he stand up.

About 30 minutes before (name) had accepted William's proposal, she had arrived with Josephine to the Moriarty Manor, greeted by Louis at the door who seemed to be acting as though he were following a script for a play (name) did not know she was acting in. Once he had greeted the two, not another soul in sight, he had taken them to the lounge which (name) was now well acquainted with after multiple visits (and potential break-ins).

As Louis had opened the grand door to let the pair in, (name) spotted a familiar blond with an even more familiar smirk and his older brother, Earl Albert James Moriarty who she had seen countless times before, sat on a chair holding a glass of red wine as usual.

William flashed the noble lady an innocent , closed eye smile as he greeted her "Good day, my lady. I'm glad to see you accepted my humble invitation despite all the noblemen who have been calling for you in attempts to court you recently." His last words seemed to drip with venom despite his soft expression. "Please take a seat.How have you been? You have received my gifts and letters, haven't you? I was growing worried that they hadn't made their way to you-"

"Enough of the small talk, Moriarty. What's are you planning?" (Name) glared as she approached the man, remaining stood up just in case he tried anything "Knowing your scheming personality, you have a method of trapping me and making me your puppet. Save me the humiliation and make haste."

William's delicate and angelic smile instantly shifted to a devilish smirk as his scarlet eyes — which to (name) resembled that of a demon's but were strangely beautiful all the same — narrowed and his lips turned upwards.

"If you insist, sweetheart," he said as he leaned closer to the woman, making prolonged eye contact, amused at the still confident and determined woman he saw before him "I have a proposal for you."

"What, a marriage proposal?" (Name) joked "with the way you've been acting recently, I would not be surprised in the slightest..surely you would be better off directing your affections elsewhere.."

William chuckled softly and held (name)'s hands in his own dramatically as he looked at her with a now faux lovesick expression.

"Oh, but my lady, I must confess something," (name) raised a brow as William's tone changed to that of a whining child. "I am passionately enamoured by you..I find it difficult to eat. Slumber evades me..At midnight's hour I awaken calling our your name-"

(Name) scowled and released her hands from his, even more irritated than she was earlier. He was purposely trying to get on her nerves as usual. It was as if it was his primary source of entertainment.

"Should you jest any longer, I shall take my leave," (name)'s eyes darted around the room, avoiding eye contact in an attempt to mask her embarrassment "I demand to know why you have asked for me to come here."

William sighed, frowning before turning away and looking out of the window whilst (name) folded her arms and continued to glare at the blond, who could feel her piercing gaze burning into the back of his head.

"Why is that you continue to refuse to join me, yet you never properly responded to my letters?" William asked as if he was prompting something, as if he had a plan.

(Name) clenched her fists, clearly irritated as she her voice grew tense and terse "I had given you clear answers in person. I thought if i were to ignore your attempts to persuade me, you would grow tired. I'm afraid to admit I was wrong."

William turned his head to face (name) again, tilting his head. "But you are yet to provide me a reasonable explanation as to why you do not want to join us. Isn't that odd?"

That statement felt like a smack in the face, reminding (name) of how overly emotional she was being with this decision. She had only come up with one reason as to why she didn't want to join William's little criminal network, that being that she could not bring herself to be around him for such long periods of time. Everything he did recently had managed to irritate her, even if it were harmless. She felt this strange feeling that went beyond hate and was ever so passionate and strong. That feeling haunted her in her dreams and every waking hour.

The blond male had noticed (name) growing more annoyed by the second, not a single word to say in retaliation. He continued "I only wish to make a change in the country, to prevent those of the lower class being treated as if they weren't human. You share that same goal along with your main one, which I'm very much aware of."

"How did you-" (name) sighed and instead tried to remain calm. She watched as William turned around completely and leaned closer to her, as if he was trying to intimidate her. Her hand made its way to her pocket which had a small tear on it to give her access to her upper leg and reach for the gun strapped to it, ready to pull it out if she needed to. "Nevermind. I'm able to do all this on my own, without your assistance. What do you plan to do with this newfound information then? Are you going to turn me in to the military intelligence? I'm sure you wouldn't take this lightly."

"If you do not wish to acquire my help, then why did you come to me when you found out about Ashfordshire's evil acts against various women?" William asked rhetorically. He had noticed (name) was in possession of a gun as he looked down to see her fidgeting with something in her pocket. He said nothing. "Your arguments seem to have many flaws, dear (name). Is this why you almost always were second place to me?"

(Name) swiftly pulled the small, but efficient, pistol and pointed it at William. Louis and Josephine at the side simultaneously gasped whilst Albert just swished his wine around, entertained by the scene. The red eyed devil's smirk widened as he leaned closer, pressing the gun to his own forehead as the woman in front of him seemed surprised momentarily but instead of pulling the gun away, she loaded the gun and rested her finger on the trigger, ready to shoot.

"If I do indeed refuse to join you, what will you do to me? What is the trap you've laid out for me so you finally feel the satisfaction of winning?" (Name) whispered, adding to the tension already existing through the room.

William replied in an equally hushed tone. "Turn you in, of course. You already are aware that my brother does work for the military and it would be a shame if he accidentally let slip to the higher ups that there was a person in the ton who planned to destroy the very empire that brings us power and glory, would it not, darling?"

(Name) kept the pistol in her hand, pressing it closer against William's soft face "Stop with the terms of endearment, or I'll pull the trigger. Why cant you just accept that I don't wish to follow the same life that you lead?" She asked, feeling almost threatened by his remark

"You wouldn't kill me, dear (name). You need me for your own entertainment as I need you just as much for other reasons and besides, you and I worked well against Ashfordshire and were able to kill him in a discreet manner-"

"There is nothing discreet about beating a man bloody and making it near impossible to dispose of him in a way that scandals would not arise. Perhaps you aren't as competent as you try to pretend to be." She had said nothing in regard to his first statement. It was now (name)'s turn to smirk, satisfied with her response until William smiled

"Which is exactly why I need you by my side. You and I are one in the same. I wish to take down the nobility and I'm willing to risk my life just to go against the nobility, in turn going against the empire. You wish to see the empire fall apart, I assume because of your loyalty to (home country). You are desperate to see the world change because you know what I am capable of" William leaned forward, only centimetres away from (name).

"If anyones desperate it's you. A new letter every morning just for me. Do you not have anything better to do than beg for me to —" (name) spat but was interrupted by William who seemed to be growing more flustered, probably because a gun was about to kill him any moment.

"—We can help each other. Although you have a high social status, I am able to give you the opportunity to take down this empire you hate so much and you can help me throughout my own plans."

The gun fell to the ground with a clatter. (Name) raised her hand in defeat as William's eyes widened. He hadn't expected it to be this easy.

"I am only going to say this once so listen well," she muttered to him. "..you win, William James Moriarty."

All the people in the room seemed equally in awe as William, including (name) herself. It was as if she was a completely different person entirely.

"Now that I have accepted your proposal, how do you plan to avoid any potential scandals or suspicious behaviours? I am an unmarried lady and you, an unmarried gentleman. I hope to evade any association with baseless conjecture." (Name) said, finally breaking the silence as she backed away from William.

William averted his gaze, for absolutely no particular reason, turning back to look at the view outside the window. "As expected of you, (name), you are correct. Which is why I have a solution for both this problem and the issues regarding your unwed status.."

"Which is?"

(Name) already knew what he was about to say though, but hearing it from him was still surprising.

William got down on one knee and pulled out a little red box, opening it to reveal a gold ring with a red gem on it.

"Lady (name) (last name), would you do me the honour of marrying me?"

In the following weeks, (name) and William had managed to create a fake love story between the two of them to wear like a mask in public. In order to spread news of the engagement and appear less suspicious or sudden, (name) had approached a young woman of the ton, only a couple years younger than herself, who she had acquainted herself with at a ball named Miss Charlotte Kensington, a girl who had recently been known to be quite the gossip in high society.

(Name) had carefully directed the conversation to marriage and courtships and then 'confessed' that she and William had been secretly courting for the past few months and were 'deeply in love'. To add more to the potential rumours that were to quickly spread, she had lied that she had once come to call on William only to find out that he had been visiting the jewellers which caused her to suspect he was to propose soon.

The story had spread like a wildfire and within minutes of ending her conversation with Charlotte, she had heard whispers of ladies complaining about William being off the marriage market and many men upset about the 'diamond of (home country)' no longer being available, some even questioning what (name) had seen in him which had strangely irritated her.

About a week after that particular ball, William and (name) had been promenading through a newly built park, full of noblemen and women with the others who were in on the plan and as planned, William had found a 'romantic' location to propose to (name), getting down on one knee and professing his love for the woman who had enthusiastically accepted, and even added a few fake tears for extra convincing.

A contract was written between the two and signed. The rules had consisted of  avoiding physical interactions in private, acting as a couple in public, having (name) participate in any schemes William would ask her to, an exchange of information from Albert to (name), completely loyalty to their ultimate goal and the final rule which had easily been mutually agreed on (and quite determined from both parties) , not divorcing until both of their goals were fulfilled. William had also refused to receive a dowry from (name), who was already really wealthy and willing to send over £15 000 (£939 135 in modern pound sterling or us $1193081.80) in dowry because he was not fond of the practice (“it’s as if you are paying me to marry you”) and instead sent just as much money to her despite not needing to.

After (name) had written to her parents and the engagement party was hosted, her parents had eventually arrived from (home country) to England for the wedding which was to be held in a month following the initial proposal. The facade of the love marriage made this easier than it should have been considering most couples at the time would have been engaged as children then married off about ten years later.

The arrangements for this grand wedding ("only the best for my daughter" Grand Duke (last name) had said when aiding the couple in the preparations) had been going smoothly and although (name) didn't wish to admit it, she was..excited. Not as much as Josephine of course. The girl had become like her little sister or even her own daughter and was incredibly excited on her lady's behalf.

Although William had already asked for permission to marry (name) from the Marquis, who was standing in as her closest male relative, he had still wanted to receive her parent's blessing and meet the couple who had managed to raise such a wonderful but also fierce spirited woman.

The wedding was to be held in the Grand Duke and Duchesses large estate in the capital and the newlyweds would also stay there for the beginning of their honeymoon before returning to (home country) with them. Honestly, the two had expected their daughter to marry a prince or even a kind of some sort once she was of age but as soon as they met William, all those doubts had flown out of the window and they had welcomed the young nobleman with open arms.

A few weeks prior to the wedding, (name) and William had waited for the ship with the Grand Duke and Duchess to arrive.

"You had better not cause any issues,William." (Name) hissed while she watched her parents leave the ship and approach the trio.

William smirked and responded  "Wouldn't dream of it, darling."

She sighed loudly in exasperation but waved to her parents with a smiled, who were approaching the couple and were ready to take the carriage to their estate.

"Mother! Father! How lovely to see you both once again!" The (hair colour)-ette had smiled brightly as she greeted her parents enthusiastically. This was the first time they had met in person for three years and they had only visited once before, very briefly due to diplomatic relations, during the entire five years she had been in England.

"We have really missed you, dear (name). Please forgive us for not being able to visit you. Oh how you've grown..!" (Father's name) exclaimed as he gave his daughter a hug, clearly feeling sentimental.

"It's alright, father..I've been well on my own." (Name) managed to squeak out amidst her father's tight embrace. Her mother eventually pried her husband off her and greeted her with a smile. The difference between their personalities could not have been more clear.

Her mother was quiet, cold on the surface, but gentle to those who she loved and very intelligent. She worried for her daughter a lot but never as much as her husband, who was a lot more cheerful and incredibly dedicated to his wife, but could be very cruel when necessary.

The Grand Duke looked over to a nervous William and flashed an even brighter smile. "You must be the gentleman our lovely daughter is to marry. She spoke very highly of you in her letter to us announcing the engagement, we couldn't be more happy for her to finally find someone she loves and is willing to marry."

William bowed politely "It's a pleasure to meet you, your grace, my name's William James Moriarty" He smiled as he held out his hand for the man to shake "(Name) seems to hold you in an equally high regard, and I can see why only from our first meeting."

The duke whispered to his wife who gave William a polite smile and nod "Look (mothers name), isn't he just perfect for our little (name)?" Except the whisper was quite loud and all of them could hear.

"Ahem..." (name) interrupted, clearly embarrassed by the whole ordeal and wishing for this strange clash between worlds to be over. "I think it's best we get going now, mother, father."

"Indeed..Come along, dear." Her mother said as she pulled her husband away to prevent him from squeezing William's hand to the point it would break.

Once they had arrived at the grand (Last name) family manor which hadn't been visited for years, the parents had promptly began questioning poor William.

"How did the two of you meet, William?" (Father's name) asked curiously as they had tea together.

(Name) felt nervous during the meeting. Her parents had easily seen through her since she was a child. One wrong word and it would all become apparent and she knew her parents would not approve of anything she was getting involved in. They wished for their daughter to marry for love and have a good relationship with her husband and they certainly did not want her murdering people or trying to single handedly take on an entire empire, one of the largest in the world.

She had to act all lovey-dovey with her husband to be and it was a pain.

"I had already mentioned it in my letters, father —"

(Name)'s mother interrupted "Your father asked your fiancé, allow the boy to speak." She said with a cold tone.

Ah, thought William, so this is where (name) had gotten her attitude from.

"Well, I first was graced by dear (name)'s presence when we were only 16 and from the first moment I had been not only completely enamoured by her beauty, but also her intellect. She was reading a play, the tempest, which I wasn't as much of a fan of compared to Shakespeare's other works but ever since that day, it has remained my favourite play ever since.” William confessed with a flustered smile “Although (name) seemed to dislike me at first, I continued to chase after her but was happy to even be acknowledged as her friend, I've grown to love her more with each breath I take and I would do absolutely anything to see her happy."

(Name) felt her face heat up at William's short monologue.

'He was faking! He wasn't telling the truth, get a hold of yourself woman!'

The grand duke smiled then muttered to himself "I knew sending sweet (name) to university abroad would be beneficial. That'll show that meddling viscount.."

(Name)'s mother patted her husband's back as she spoke up for probably the fourth time that day. "You wish to be married rather quickly..a months engagement period and you're to be married soon, there wasn't anything improper taking place to cause such an engagement?" The grand duchess inquired, what she was implying was obvious.

Her daughter chuckled nervously after almost choking on her tea. She would never do such a thing with William, she wouldn't dream of it.  "Not at all, mother. We just could not be able to stand a long engagement period, is all."

"If you insist, (name)." She said, not questioning any further "on the topic of children, we do expect a grand child, of course take your time but considering how in love you appear to be, I'm certain we'll  have a granddaughter or grandson by the end of the year.."

The grand duke's grin widened  "Imagine, a few little (name)'s running around and causing mischief! How adorable!!"

(Name)'s eyes widened and turned to face William sat beside her ,who seemed mildly surprised too but only gave a polite smile. He was doing alot better at pretending to be in love than she was. "Of course, (name) would be a wonderful mother, it seems she takes after you, your grace."

The noblewoman nodded in a rather unconvincing manner as her mother looked at her skeptically.

"..you are in love, aren't you?" The duchess added. It had seemed she had caught onto their little arrangement.

A sharp clank sound followed as (name) took a spoonful of her cake and held it up to William's mouth to feed him. The blond understood immediately and opened his mouth.

"Of course we're in love, dear mother! I would never marry William otherwise," (name) assured as she flew the spoonful of cake into William's mouth and 'accidentally' activated the man's gag reflex as she thrust the spoon a little too far. Her fiancé had begun gagging, surprised by her aggressive gesture, causing (name) to remove her spoon and pat his back as William coughed. "I must excuse us, Mother, Father."

(Name) left for a few moments with William to speak to him privately as he tried to sooth his now sore throat.

"What was that for, did I upset you?" William asked as he finally was able to speak properly

(Name) glared at him and handed him a glass of water, the sun shining through it making it look sparkly "I know we're meant to be convincing but I do suggest you lay off the children comments, otherwise my parents will be suspicious when years come and there are no 'adorable little (name)s' wreaking havoc."

"You never mentioned anything about how I was to respond to anything regarding offspring, so I had assumed you would be alright with me saying what you thought your parents may want to hear, my apologies." William apologised as (name) seemed to be growing agitated and fidgety "I hadn't known you were against the idea of having children."

(Name) sighed "it's not children I'm against, but rather the process."

William held (name)'s hand and kissed her ring finger right beneath where the gold band sat. "If that is what you wish, I cannot force you, my love."

(Name) noticed her parents were still watching so she wasn't able to hide her embarrassment with a rude remark and remove her hand from his so instead, whilst glancing back at her parents who were talking about god knows what, she placed her free hand on William's head and ran her fingers through his blond locks.

This was going to be a very difficult marriage indeed.

A/N: bro this took me two days to write 😭 its like over 5k words I’m sorry but umm there’s a lot of funny (?) moments so please take this.Not fl trying to kill William in front of her parents + fl calling William desperate 💀 how will the happy couple deal with the children issue? 👀

[blood-darkened-moon]

Isolation

Chapter 1

December 12

What do you actually write in a diary? I guess I just write whatever comes into my mind.

My name is Samantha Blair, and I’ve been stationed at the Aurora Research Facility for about a month now. This place will be my home for roughly the next 11 months. I graduated two years ago with a PhD in chemistry. This is my new job. It wasn’t easy to get it. After all, there are only a few positions available in this facility. There are 12 of us in total, and my job is to analyze ice and soil samples. It’s summer here at the moment. The sun doesn’t set this close to the South Pole any more, and at night it only gets a bit dusky, which, admittedly, bothers me more than I thought it would. Doug* gave me this journal “so I won’t lose track of time.” I wonder if that will help. At least I can try.

*Douglas Garry, station leader

December 13

Nothing interesting. After breakfast, I set about sorting the samples from the last research team and finding out which of them still needed to be analyzed and which didn’t. So the same thing I’ve been doing for over a week now. What were they thinking? “We’ll be gone soon anyway, let the next team take care of it?” After me, the deluge. Typical. Half of the samples are not properly labeled, and even for those that are, it takes forever to find out what has already been done with them. It’s all in the lab books, my ass. I can hardly do anything with the cryptic notes there if I manage to decipher the handwriting at all. On top of that, I have to pick the measurement data out of disorganized piles of paper. It was all planned differently. They were actually supposed to measure their own stuff, but towards the end of their stay, one device after another broke down. The devices are working again. Now, we’re supposed to carry out these measurements first and send them the results.

December 14

Sorting samples, searching for corresponding measurement data. Nothing new. Jeff gave me a new drill core. At least I was able to take a few measurements today.

*Jeffrey Norris, geologist

December 15

As I was going about my usual business, John* arrived and said that we were going to be hit by a heavy snowstorm in the next few days. According to the weather data, the storm will last for several days, maybe even weeks. We have to prepare the station. So we spent the whole day outside moving equipment into storage rooms or fixating it. I’m still freezing.

*John Bennings, meteorologist

December 16

Dark clouds have gathered. After so many days of sunshine, the darkness, if you can call it that, is a welcome change.

December 17

It’s been snowing since last night, and the snowfall is getting heavier, although it will be another 2-3 days before it really starts. David* expressed concerns about the dogs, but Marcus** said they don’t mind the little bit of snow. Quite the opposite. Huskies love this weather. Marcus looks after the dogs. He will know best. When I think about it, it occurs to me that we are probably one of the only stations left that still uses dog sleds. We also have snowmobiles, but Marcus always says the dogs are more reliable.

Later, we decided who should clear the paths and when. The work should continue if possible. However, if the storm gets too bad, the research buildings will remain closed until it subsides.

*David Palmer, technical chief

**Marcus Clark, responsible for the dogs, thermal engineering, welding work

December 18

The howling of the wind gets stronger and stronger. Eerie. I have hardly slept a wink. At least I’m slowly making progress with the samples.

December 19

I spent half the day clearing paths. It is a Sisyphean task. As soon as I was finished, I had to start all over because everything was covered in snow again. And the worst is yet to come. If it goes on like this, I can forget about work for a while.

December 20

Jeff was on clearing duty today. He also said there was no point. After dinner, we agreed that we would only clear the paths to the important buildings, everything else would have to wait until the storm subsided. At least the dogs are having fun. And Lena. She built a giant snowman. Lena Fuchs is still a student and the youngest of our team, and you can tell. When I see her so carefree, I sometimes think I’m getting old...

The fact that Lena is here is not a matter of course. Normally, students are not accepted for research stays. However, Lena has excellent grades, so she was selected regardless of the usual rules. At least, that’s the official reason. For those who believe it. Her father just happens to have a lot of political influence and a ton of money. It would be a true miracle if he hadn’t set the whole thing up.

She’s supposed to help me with the measurements, but that will have to wait until the samples are sorted and the storm calmed down. In the first few weeks, however, I had already shown her how to operate the measurement devices. To pass the time, I’ve now given her a pile of papers to read.

December 21

We have a visitor. The last thing you expect at the South Pole in the middle of a snowstorm is a visitor. Her name is Veronica Edwards. She is British and works at the Umbrella facility nearby. She says she is a senior researcher. There’s been a virus outbreak. She hasn’t said what kind of virus it is, only that it’s not airborne and that the likelihood of her being infected is low. In general, she kept a rather low profile. However, she said that under the circumstances she cannot stay in the Umbrella facility. If she is infected with something, we can’t let her roam around freely, but not helping her is not an option either, so we put her in quarantine. Actually, that was her suggestion. Isaac* has prepared a room in the northeast storage building for the purpose. She waited in the snowmobile she came in. The building is quite large, and it also has a shower room and restrooms. Additionally, the supply in the northeastern storage building is largely separated from the other buildings, and we can lock an area from the outside. That could work. It was supposed to be modified into another research building this summer, but the modification has been postponed for another year or so. However, it has already been largely emptied. She said two weeks of quarantine would be enough. For the time being, only Isaac and Harry** will look after her. Isaac is our doctor. Harry has volunteered. They will stay away from the rest of us to minimize the risk of a virus outbreak during that time. In case of an emergency, they have walkie-talkies.

We have offered to contact Umbrella and tell them what happened, but Dr. Edwards said she had done that before she left the Umbrella facility. They’ll send people as soon as the storm subsides. If they’re taking so long, that must mean it’s not that bad, right? Or that it’s already too late, and there’s nothing they can do anyway. Shit. We’re not prepared for incidents like this.

* Dr. Isaac Copper physician, and by necessity veterinarian

** Harold Childs vehicle mechanic

December 21 Addendum I

I have to distract myself from the thought that the woman might have infected us all with some deadly virus. And I forgot to write that our new arrival is rather strange. She was at least wearing a jacket, but underneath, she had only put on a long purple dress, high-heeled shoes, and white velvet gloves. The clothes looked anything but cheap. She looked more like she wanted to go to a gala than work in a research laboratory. Who walks around like that in Antarctica? Well, maybe she wasn’t on duty when the outbreak happened. That would also explain why she managed to escape and, according to her own statement, is probably not infected. But even as casual wear, her outfit looks pretty bizarre in a place like this.

She had to wait quite a long time in the snowmobile until the provisional quarantine was ready. Wasn’t she cold in her thin clothes? She didn’t complain. And I couldn’t see any signs that she was freezing either. Admittedly, I kept a safe distance. Speaking of snowmobiles, judging by the tracks, she was driving as if she was drunk and almost crashed into one of the buildings. Can she just not drive, or are these signs that she’s not feeling well? A fever, perhaps?

Also, I remembered Doug mentioning in the first or second week that Umbrella isn’t even doing research at the facility anymore. It’s supposed to be a materials storage facility or something like that. Well, Dr. Edwards claims she is a researcher there. I’ll ask Doug about the facility again when I get a chance.

December 21 Addendum II

Nicole*** wanted to contact AAD and ask how we should proceed with Dr. Edwards. However, due to the storm, there is currently no way through with our communication system. Always at the best possible time, of course! At least it’s not broken. Nicole has checked it. In a few days, the storm should ease a little, although not stop. She’ll try again then. Until then, we’re on our own. As old as the communication system is, I’m not surprised that it doesn’t work currently. It probably dates back to when the station was founded in the 70s.

***Nicole Windows, telecommunications, electronics, computers

AAD = Australian Antarctic Division

Next→

[beygrade]

Two’s company

A serlina fanfic for @evallina! This was so much fun to write!

***

As the snow began to fall, Evallina glanced at her watch. With a frown, she looked up again, her gaze drifting to the concert hall behind her. The hall stood tall against the backdrop of a starry sky, its blue walls glowing under the moon’s silvery rays. Her eyes lingered on the entrance gate, searching for familiar faces. People flocked in, in hundreds, in thousands, but she could see no sign of her friends.

Sighing, Evallina closed her eyes and wrapped the jacket around herself tighter. She remained rooted to the spot as the bitter winter breeze struck her. The snowflakes tingled against her skin, and she shivered. She could sense a blizzard coming, but she did not want to leave yet.

“You didn’t have to wait out here,” a familiar voice said a moment later. “You’ll catch a cold.”

Evallina whirled around, her eyes meeting Sergei’s. He raised a hand in greeting, and she returned the gesture, grinning. As he approached her, she took a second to survey him. As usual, he’d spiked his hair up, but unlike usual, he was dressed in a faded sweater and denim jeans. His sharp eyes were alight with an emotion she could not decipher, but she did not have long to dwell on it. As he took her hand, the blood rushed to her face.

“Where’s the rest of the team?” Evallina asked quickly, trying to ignore her racing heart.

Sergei’s brows rose. “They’re watching football. Manchester’s playing.”

“They’re skipping Ming-Ming’s live concert for a league match?”

She tried to keep the incredulity out of her voice but failed. Evallina had never understood the boys’ craze for football. Even Yuriy and Kai, the more levelheaded members of the team, got fired up about it like the fate of the world depended upon which team won.

Sergei looked away. “You know, I never said I invited the others. I only have two tickets. It’s just you and me here.”

Silence set in between them. Evallina looked up at Sergei and her heart skipped another beat. It’s just you and me here. In the several months they’d known each other, not once had she gone places with him alone. On the few occasions when their schedules had aligned, she’d never been able to work up the courage to ask him to go anywhere with her. Owing to this, she’d assumed the rest of the team would be here too. Evallina tore her gaze away from him, trying to quiet her racing thoughts, but it was no use.

“Sorry, I should have clarified what I meant sooner,” Sergei said, as he let go of her hand. “If you’re not comfortable with just the two of us hanging out, I understand.”

“No!” Evallina burst out. “I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. I’d love to go to the concert with you.”

His eyes were so full of surprise it took her aback for a second. Then, the look was gone, replaced by an expression she couldn’t read.

“If I told you this was a date, would you still say the same?”

Evallina’s jaw dropped. Her heart pounded against her chest, and she felt as though someone had doused her in electric sparks. She stared at him for a second, noting the rising colour in his cheeks, her mind replaying his words again. A date. This was a date. She’d spent so long admiring him from the shadows she’d never believed he’d been interested in her too. But looking back on it now, the signs had all been there all along. He’d always believed in her and been there for her; and the sparks had been there in the way he’d smiled at her and in the small gestures. How had she not seen it until now?

Evallina grinned and took his hand again. “Yes. Yes, I would.”

She knew she should say something more, but the ability to speak had deserted her.

“That’s good to know,” Sergei said and smiled back at her. “I’ve looked forward to this for so long.”

He had a faraway look in his eyes. Evallina smiled again, as they walked to the entrance, hand-in-hand. I like you, she wanted to say, but she knew there would be a better time and place for such a conversation. They were in public, surrounded by throngs of people, and running late for one of the most awaited concerts of the year. When it was over, she’d tell him for sure. The thought left jitters in its wake, and she looked up at the snow, feeling like the happiest person in the world.

[lilpervfruit]

October 6th 2024, Sunday night

What an unbelievable amazing rough night!!

You climb out of bed, walk toward your closet.. wearing a black tank top with cute straps in the back. And black sweats. You face your closet lifting your hair up. In that moment I wanted to exclaim that you are so sexy. My clit did a split vibration and I quickly shut it down. You went to the restroom to get cleaned up and get your jams on. When you come back to the room you was wearing your sheer pink tank top and same pants … the exact top of yours that I tried on 2 days prior…I have to make a constant awareness to look away as my heart starts beating fast and my clit does a round 2 of vibrating… this time for a moment longer as I am struggling to shut it down…. You walk over to your spray station and spray your self with the gingham spray in which winds me up when mixed with your phermones… not that you would have any idea about that because I have never spoke on it. At this point I’m trying to focus on my jaw not being on the floor.

You casually crawl back into bed next to me, where you lightly rub your fingers across my arm. In that moment the gay panic was starting to creep in. I had shut down all sexual related thoughts and feelings about you when You expressed months ago that you wasn’t ready. Which is absolutely fine!! I haven’t been sexually frustrated or even remotely horny in 11 years…

Now here we are, sitting in your bed where we both continue to lightly touch eachother skin and I am giving it a big effort to regulate my breath and not give my clit another thought. You offer me bear and I graciously take it… and then another bear and I do it again…. You play with my left hand and my arm and the top of my left leg.. in the moment I have now leaned back on my left side facing you as you are tilted right slightly but on your back. Leaning just right that your breast look phenomenal.

Somehow your right hand ended up blocking my vision of the tv perfectly and your left hand gently tickles my arm and hand. I have two options now… I can either close my eyes and have them remain closed or I can keep them open and look at your chest which could further the gay panic as I haven’t felt this way in sooo long it is so much more intense. I last a few moments before I tuck my face behind your bicep and cover my face where I stay for a while where I can feel my breath speeding up.i keep smiling.

The night continues on ,giving and receiving happy fingers. Suddenly you roll over on your left side taking your top off which is something we both have discovered we really like to do together.. I smile and know that it’s time for back HF! You reach over and grab my hand and pull me up against you! I hold my breath with my mouth open… my heart starts racing. You pull my hand around putting it on your right breast and gently tighting your fingers as now I am gently squeezing her. I release and HF your belly, side, arm, and chest. You reach around moving my tank top strap down.. I take the top to right under my breast leaning forward putting them on your back.until I sit up to take it all the way off.

Nightly when we snuggle and exchange HF I have always just smiled at your happy moans…. I keep notice between happy and unpleasant…. Tonight As my breast push into your back your sweet little moan affected me completely different.. you lift your hair off your neck, leaving me enticed. I can’t help but kiss the back of your neck!!!

As we lay here pressed up against one another I am so unbelievably high and horny, in an internal debate if it’s just because I am so turned on or if you was presenting signs . I couldn’t decipher . You roll over towards me now we are breast to breast. Our faces are close.. as we both move multiple times resulting in the need to kiss you!!

We both take turns HF each other’s neck until I lean in and kiss you; you kiss back. I am now in full gay panic …. I can’t even focus on a single thing… my mind is flashing of all of the things that could possibly turn you on because I know not of any other then …. None. I know you like your neck to be touched. Then back to thinking if it’s just me and if I should or should not be perusing the feelings.

You ask how my back is, and i immediately say it’s fine because that is the last thing on my mind . I ask how your shoulder is and you tell me it’s pissed, so we swap. I climb overtop of you to lay on my right facing you. we continue to love on one another! I can’t help but want to kiss you…i open my eyes look up at you and you are smiling at me.. i become shu.. and start nervously giggling and shaking… i put my hand on your face and finally lean in and kiss you pulling my body up pressing into you harder, releasing our lips and immediately kissing again. It was in that exact moment I knew I had to stop…. I had to calm my breathing, slow my heart stop the mind and keep my hands and mouth to myself…

I wanted to ask, if I was reading things right…but if i was reading it wrong I didn’t want you to think you was teasing me….because you wasn’t. ….. I hadn’t worked up the nerve… so I shut it all down and dozed into sleep.

What a night!! I love being close to you. I love feeling your skin against mine I love that we love on eachother. I love kissing you!! I love the way you touch me and the sweet things you say about My hands being magic and that I make you feel good!

Something I know is if you would have said anything close to being “yours” between being your good girl or your baby I would have had to remove myself….

Today. Monday morning I got to thinking about when it happens,if I will be good enough. If I’ll be able to please you. Started thinking more into the fact that I don’t know what turns you on. How will I know when the time is right? Will you show me that you’re into me…. What if you was showing me and I doubted it and got scared and had to shut it all down in fear of ruining things with you out of me feeling things I haven’t in so long and was having a hell of a time controlling…

In the end, everyone is safe and I didn’t embarrass myself!!!

What a night!!!!!!

[aresielle]

Writing exercice

A scene between two young people inspired by the countless otome isekai I have read these last months. The main characters are a young noblewoman, Dolorsit Amet, the heir of the Duke of the North, and a young man, Ipsum Lorem, the eldest son of Count Phasellus. They live in the kingdom where King Egestas reigns. The names of the characters are taken from random words in five paragraphs of lorem ipsum. The other characters appearing in this scene are the maid, Miss Eget Acu, and the second son of the count, Odio Lorem.

It was a large, well-lit room. One side was a gigantic bay window with glass so clear it gave the illusion of being open to the garden. The other walls were adorned with paintings and bookshelves full of precious books. The room was welcoming for light intellectual activities and lounging. In the middle was a coffee table. On one side, near the door leading to the mansion, was an ottoman. Lady Dolorsit Amet, the heir of the Duchy of Maecenas, was sitting elegantly. Her silk blue dress shone in the light of the late afternoon. Facing her, on a Venetian couch, the young master Ipsum Lorem, eldest son of Count Phasellus, was drinking tea.

"Leave us," the young woman said brusquely.

The maid attending to the tea turned to the young man with a look asking for confirmation.

"That will be all, Eget," he said.

She hurriedly made a curtsey and left the room, closing the door behind her. A heavy silence settled between the young woman and the man sitting across from her. The late afternoon sunlight dancing on the parquet floor offered a welcome distraction for the two young people who didn't know how to start the conversation. The seconds passed relentlessly.

"I…," they both started to speak at the same time and then stopped again.

Deciding to break the silence, Ipsum spoke up. "Go ahead, please," he said, gesturing with his hand.

"I… I first want to apologize for coming to visit you unannounced," the young woman began. She seemed a bit tense, but there was no nervousness in her posture.

The young man remained silent, fixing her with an inquisitive look, inviting her to continue.

"I came today to propose a deal."

She set her teacup down and stood up. With determined steps, she quickly moved around the coffee table and knelt at the young man's feet, taking his hand.

"Mr. Lorem, will you marry me?"

He looked at her, speechless. "I… Miss Amet…" A slight blush appeared on his cheeks. Surprised by this sudden proposal, he was at a loss for words.

"I know this proposal is sudden and seems incongruous. Convention dictates that it is the man who makes this request. But please, listen to my plea." Her gaze was neither pleading nor timid. She looked at him with the determination of a woman going to war.

"As you know, my recent appointment as the legitimate heir to the Duchy of Maecenas has made me the target of many of my father's political enemies. The fact that I was raised in ignorance of my heritage is the perfect excuse for them to demand my marriage to one of their sons, or for some, to themselves, in order to take control of the northern lands. These pressures will only intensify as time goes on, and a time will come when my family can no longer ignore them."

She gently tightened her grip around Ipsum's hand, who was stunned. Coming out of his stupor, he began to respond.

"My father is a political opponent of yours. I don't understand. Why propose to me when one of your father's vassals would be more appropriate?" He looked doubtful at the young woman's audacity. He fixed her with an intense gaze, trying to decipher her real intentions.

"Alas, none of my father's vassals have sons or nephews of marriageable age available at the moment. I know this proposal may seem absurd to you, considering that we hardly know each other. But I truly believe this agreement will be beneficial for us. I know you have been excluded from your family's succession and have lost all influence in the affairs of the count, your father. Moreover, your brother's supporters see you as an obstacle to be eliminated. Rumors of assassination attempts against you are on everyone's lips in the salons of the capital." She straightened slightly and placed one of her hands on the young man's cheek. "Please. At least take the time to consider it. We have a number of common enemies, and this alliance will allow us to avoid mutually harming each other if we decide to take measures to prevent them from harming us."

Slowly, he lifted his free hand to catch the one touching his cheek and moved it away from his face.

"I… I don't know how these rumors about my place in my own family reached your ears, but I believe you are mistaken. Why would I accept a deal that will only benefit you? You said it yourself, I have no power." His gaze hardened, and his tone, initially hesitant, grew firmer.

"The prospect of a marriage with me will give them the illusion that you will be their pawn introduced into the duchy to take control. You will then be able to regain influence," she said reassuringly.

"You are insane. What makes you think I won't be this puppet in the hands of your enemies that you will willingly introduce into your house?" he burst out.

"It's a calculated risk that I am willing to take. Your past actions and your reputation speak for themselves. You are not of the same ilk as those corrupt men of the faction your father adheres to, who whisper in King Egestas's ear."

"You know nothing about me," he said, frustrated.

"I know the reasons that led to your exclusion from the line of succession even though you are the eldest, and that brought you to your current situation. And I am talking about the real reasons, not that unbelievable tale your brother likes to tell whenever the opportunity arises." Her voice was assured, and she punctuated each of her statements with a tilt of her head.

"I…" The young man looked away. A smoldering anger seemed to burn in his eyes. He took a deep breath and looked again at the woman kneeling at his feet.

"Promise me at least to think about it. I will wait for your answer as long as it takes," she said, a note of desperation in her voice.

"Ipsum, my brother, what do I hear? A woman… oh my God!" The door, opened with a crash, revealed the young man's younger brother.

"Odio. Have you never learned to knock before entering?" the young man said irritably.

"But…" Odio opened and closed his mouth several times without making a sound.

The young woman slowly stood up, adjusting her dress. Regaining his composure, Odio turned to her.

"Dolorsit Amet! Get away from my brother, you witch!"

Ignoring the newcomer, she nodded to Ipsum. "I will take my leave. I will eagerly await your response."

Without another word, she turned and left. The two brothers watched her leave in silence. After a few minutes, the younger one turned to his elder.

"Dolorsit Amet? Dolorsit? Seriously? Have you lost your mind? What is she talking about? Answer me!"

[fatallyfalling]

Bitter Water 0.07 ~ ♆

“ You were nothing like him. You were more. And maybe that scared him a little. “

{{ Finnick Odair x Reader }}

{{ previous part || next part }} {{ masterlist }}

warnings: typical Hunger Games violence/trauma/themes, language, blood, injury, ptsd, forced prostitution, enemies to lovers, slow burn, death, nightmares, unintentional self injury, alcohol, insinuation of suicidal thoughts, mention of aphrodisiac abuse, sexual abuse, etc

{{ word count }} 8.2K

{{ outfits }}

{{ prompt }} Six months was never going to be long enough. You would have sooner dug your heels into the earth and bared your teeth than go back - but you have to keep them safe. You only ever wanted to keep them safe….. in the end you never could…

{{ a/n }} Markiplier voice: “Hi - It’s me! I’m not dead! Which is an awful surprise considering how many people wrote my obituary yesterday! PREEMPTIVELY! In case i did die! But i didn’t! so suck on that!” anyhoo - This is LONG but also get ready to cry <3

p.s.- I promise reader isn’t a crybaby they’re just traumatized 😭 I also apologize if this is a bit scattered, it’s been in the works for over three months now but i swear you’ll get more consistency from reader here on out akkfkskdkskd The ending is also a tad rushed i just REALLY wanna get into them being older so I can write with more substance IM SORRYYYY

They’re alive.

Two words. Three syllables.

This mantra kept you moving. You’ve been home for little more than a month, but the treacherous plague of the arena had left its permanent reminders engraved on your skin. Still, you were too often dragged back by those same claws, kicking and screaming, under the blanket of night to relive the horrors of the 67th annual Hunger Games, only to awaken with bitter copper coating your tongue and a twisted scream retching from your throat. You’d already lost count of how often your episodes upset Dorian and Callan. They were too young to understand the poltergeists that haunted your nightmares. The poor boys had even started running to your father on wobbly legs dragged down by sleep to rouse the gruff man, bleary eyes the size of saucers, as your cries echoed through the too-big house. It sputtered that vital flame still fighting to ignite inside your chest to see them cry because of you.

You hated yourself for it.

Marjorie had hobbled up the three steps to your porch on creaking knees, breathless and panting as your Father led her into the finely furnished house the first night the terrors returned. He hadn't even bothered for his brown leather duster to cover the mangled remains of his dominant arm. Sweat pooled on Marjorie’s brow as the elder gripped her threadbare shawl tighter around her shoulders. The panic on your Father's face was all she'd needed to follow the man home in the middle of the night. Your screams met the elder's ears first. Then Dorian and Callan came bounding out of the parlor to meet her with fearful eyes and tight hugs. "Please, help them, Nana!" The twins blubbered between tears. An expression heavy enough to resemble grief painted your Father's features as Marjorie connected her gaze to his.

"I'll see what I can do."

The unfortunate reality was that there wasn't much that could be done. Marjorie had even enlisted Mags’ help in deciphering a possible treatment plan for the traumatic stress that seized your mind, but any leads ended up inconclusive. A specially brewed tonic of chamomile and lavender before bed at least aided in closing your eyes to combat the insomnia you'd developed, but little could be done to keep you asleep. You had daily sessions with Mags to try and sort through the inner turmoil. But progress was slow going, and you rarely made it past recounting the first few weeks of life in the arena before tears bubbled and panic took over your chest, squeezing so tightly you feared suffocation. Marjorie suggested seeking a higher level of care for your condition, but Mags signaled things might only get worse for you to be removed from your loved ones again so soon. You'd agreed with your mentor. As harrowing as your experiences had been, all that mattered to you were the twins smiling faces and the warmth in their embraces, or the idle chatter over an evening meal about their latest school projects or primary school gossip. The normalcy helped in its own way.

Your father once tried to coax you into going to a local medical clinic on one of your better days. "It's just a check-up." He'd claimed. But after angry red scratches peppered his one good arm, and you were huddled in a corner far from the door like a wild animal set to pounce, the idea was left to rot amongst other failed attempts to heal your internal wounds.

As much as you hated to admit it, your episodes had only worsened since being back.

There were four things you'd learned to despise since surviving The Games.

1. Water

2. Closed Spaces

3. Finnick Odair

4. President Coriolanus Snow

Your aversion to water still clamped around your throat like a vice. But that natural, sometimes visceral, longing for the sea was a heavy weight in your chest. Water still brought painful memories to the front of your mind, with soap suds burning your eyes in the shower between ferocious blinks, but the salty spray of coastal air was too enticing to turn from. You still found yourself sneaking away from Victor’s Village in the wee hours of morning to the brine scented sands down a tall-grassed hill behind your house. Unlike your home, tucked away in a more secluded, woodland, part of town, the Village was right along the coast outside the edge of the port. You could see the lit up pier and ship docks down the shoreline in murky shadows over the horizon, occasionally illuminated by the ever turning lighthouse nestled amongst the cliffs younglings favored to dive from.

You’d ventured up to the cliffs a handful of times since returning to District 4. The wind was wild and whipped your hair this way and that with howling gusts up the face of the rocky mountain. Summer was nearing the end of its course, with crisper air wafting in from the ocean that sent shivers up your spine, and the hair on your arms and the nape of your neck to stand on end. You’d wander up at night, cloaked in shadow with whisps of moonlight curling over the planes of your face and arms. If anyone below witnessed the picture of your gauzy night clothes billowing in the wind amongst the shadows passing your face under moonlit clouds, they’d think they saw an apparition. One of the local myths, told only in hushed voices in warm taverns by rosy-cheeked, ale scented, fisherman out of Peace Keeper's earshot. You didn’t dare try to jump. However tempting the darkest reaches of your mind made the caress of its fingertips along the veil of your sanity, pawing the sheer curtain as if asking permission to flood your thoughts and set that roaring inferno in your chest loose, you stayed firm on the damp earth.

You wouldn’t do that to your family.

Days were easier than nights at least. You favored the large, second story bay windows of the grey dappled house, soaking up warmth from the sun and your personally home brewed tea. Your father had tried to replicate your recipes while you’d been away but Dorian and Callan loved to remind the poor elder that yours still tasted sweeter. Another thing the twins had missed in your absence. You’d taken it upon yourself to teach the younglings the simple brew in perfect replication, earning giggles of sheer joy from the boys and an eye roll from your bemused Father. You’d also begun a small collection of your personal recipes in a small leather bound journal gifted to you from your father to replace the old water damaged cards you used to keep the instructions on. Amongst freshly printing the terms you still tucked the old cards between the pages as keepsakes and tell of origin. You cherished the small book tremendously.

Cooking had also surprisingly became rather cathartic for you in a way. Doing something with your hands helped ease the nervous habit that created burning red crescents in your palms, especially when it came to kneading dough or fixing herbs to garnish meals. It had been an adjustment to fix more filling meals that made enough if not more for your small family. Instead of saving every scrap, or even skipping your own helping to allow the twins seconds, there was enough to feed everyone and then some for once.

The wealth that came with winning The Games was generous and easily enough to live well into the rest of your lives. But it also cast a heavy weight on your shoulders. Another permanent reminder of the spilt blood that coated your skin in phantom stickiness. Sometimes you wished nothing more than to be rid of the fortune, but the prospering health of your siblings always managed to chip away at the solid guilt cocooning your heart.

All you ever wanted was to provide for them and keep them safe.

Safe.

Three months have now passed since You’d arrived back in District 4.

Finnick Odair had kept his distance, if not attempting to avoid you entirely. Well - as much as he could with what shred of free will the boy had to spare. He was exhausted, and the knife that had carved out his bleeding heart from his chest had become a rudimentary ache. No matter how heavy the concealer his stylist’s applied was, dark circles and hangovers could only be hidden under playboy charm and pointy smirks for so long. Since Finnick’s announcement as a “Desirable” Victor four months prior, he’d felt the Capital collar and chain around his neck tighten and yank in whichever way Snow commanded with growing severity. Part of him was surprised there wasn’t bruising where the icy torque would have rested on his throat.

There was never a ‘day off’ for Finnick Odair. Not anymore. There was always a performance to be made, or an appearance at a party, or a sticky-fingered Capital elitist client spewing sultry filth in his ears that made the boy want to either be sick or run the lethal triple blade trident hanging in his bedroom through their gut several times.

The retched hunger of Capital elitist’s, heiresses, and whoever else was rich enough to pay the sharks prowling in shadowed corners of banquet halls or knew who to speak to in order to arrange an ‘evening’ with the ‘Prince of District 4’ was insatiable. Every minute detail of the Golden Boy’s daily life became scheduled, prepped, scrubbed, tested, ordered, dressed, touched, and pressed. There were no choices, no breaks, no compromises.

If Finnick Odair wasn’t perfect or spotlight ready for even a millisecond - people would talk. If Finnick wasn’t flirting or hanging on the arm of someone new every night they’d get bored. If there was no gossip, no allure to the honey-tanned playboy they’d lose interest and President Snow would bring down the iron fist poised mere inches over the carefully crafted safety net around Mags and the few people he dared hold higher than himself.

Cold water helped ease the pressure.

The freezing splash of droplets on his tanned skin was palpable. The opposite of sparks and flames which singed lapping, invisible burns through his veins and made setting himself ablaze more appealing than the possible friction of another persons touch for a thousand years. It was an expensive effort to not flinch away or recoil from groping hands. The most Finnick allowed himself under a mirror-practiced mask of feigned pleasure or pride was a minuscule flutter of muscle in his sharp jaw and the continuous picking at invisible lint from progressively more revealing tunics and netting.

Finnick didn’t want to think about what kind of scrap fabric or net he’d be forced to wear years down the line if the stylists were already pushing to show more skin on the Victor.

Scrubbing calloused palms down his mascara streaked cheeks, the taste of sea salt met his tongue. Poseidon’s waves had effectively washed the remaining remnants of gold luster from his neck and shoulders in the rolling shallows. Finnick took his time to savor a thorough inhale of the briney coast. He hadn’t bothered to venture back to his house in the Victor’s Village culdesac. He was lucky to have slipped away from the escorts Snow often ordered to be close by. Protecting the “merchandise”. Shades of navy and indigo painted the horizon with thin smears of pink where the endless sky met the waves.

The air was crisp, sending small puffs of white air into the atmosphere under tired breaths. Finnick had just barely returned from yet another unremarkable Capital function. He didn’t care that his luxurious trousers were now soaked to mid thigh in the frigid water, or that his fingertips had gone numb and pruned. He just wanted the memory of touch and the stupid damn gold dust gone.

“Damn it…” Finnick sighed. It was another exhausting effort to bite back the string of curses threatening to push through his teeth on pointed canines. To curse Snow, curse the Games, hell - curse all of Panem and the Capital for all he cared.

The boy let his sea-green gaze sweep across the coastline. Part of him wondered if snagging a boat from the docks and going off on his own would be worth it. Mags would never agree to it. Before the Games, Finnick would have accepted a quiet life as a fisherman, helping younglings and living off the daily catch.

But he wasn’t normal anymore. He wasn’t even a kid.

‘You’re just a kid.’

‘You’re both just kids.’

The memory pierced Finnick’s mind, drawing a crease between his brows and a wrinkle in his nose.

He wasn’t allowed to be a ‘kid’ anymore. He didn’t have a choice. Tearing his gaze from the sparkling lights of the bobbing sailboats sleeping in the far-off dock, Finnick’s gaze lifted to the spinning lighthouse on the cliffs. The weather stained roofing and salt eroded stones that made up the building left an eerie aura to the tower. Some of the older younglings (himself included) had spun ghost stories to scare the youngest kids around campfires on the dusty sands in mid summer.

He’d missed Summer.

The short cliffs were quiet much like the docks, a sleeping district soon to be awake in a matter of hours. There was a chilled breeze swaying the tall pine trees. Breathy smoke curled around the boy’s shoulders as he set himself moving. The frigid air and water had numbed his legs but he welcomed the cold. Late November didn’t freeze the coast but it sure as hell made things icy up here in the north. Wet sand sank and remolded under his leather boots. The boy had cast down his gaze towards the sand for only a moment in quiet contemplation before snapping back to the cliffs at the sound of a shrill cry.

“What the hell?”

Another sob ricocheted across the cliffs and swam over the shore through his eardrums. The sound was pained, and warrior instinct had his eyes scanning the cliffs over and over for its owner. Remembering he did in fact have legs, the boy put them to use, kicking up sprays of damp sand under heavy strides as he made a break for the curving paths that led to the summit. The specter of pale, gauzy fabric had been his only clue that someone was up there. Maybe he was an idiot for chasing danger, a fool for following the snapping thread in his chest like a second heartbeat. He’d remembered that scream as vividly as the day he’d witnessed you finish the Games.

His lungs started to burn halfway up as a haggard cough choked from his throat between ragged breaths. His calves barked in protest at the uneven terrain but he pushed himself harder. Already cycling through worst case scenarios the Victor had thrown caution to the wind well beforehand. Despite every fiber of his being screaming to stay away and forget. Forget the thread, forget the draw, forget the stupid hunger that made his fingertips twitch or the buzz in his ears get louder under your cold gaze.

He just had to get there. To you.

But why?

You were just another Victor. Just another cog in the grotesque clockwork of Snow’s empire. You were just like him.

You were nothing like him.

Maybe that was it.

You weren’t a career. You weren’t born and bred to kill. You weren’t him.

You were more.

And maybe that scared him a little.

Your name was a desperate prayer on Finnick’s tongue as he crashed onto the clearing he’d glimpsed your hazy form upon.

It was empty.

Maybe he was losing it a bit. Reckless paces that brought the boy peering over the edge on a tightened stomach that feared the possibility of what lie below dropped as sea green storms met empty rocks. You weren’t here. A vulgar curse huffed from his chest as damp hands fisted bronze waves as he paced around the empty clearing.

Maybe he was crazy.

But unbeknownst to the bronze-haired boy, your trembling form quickly retreating through the brush on bare feet that had the hemming of your nightclothes snag on stray twigs, growing caked in smears of mud by the second, said otherwise.

Six months passed too quickly.

The sun was a glowing smear between grey, puffy clouds. The weather had been dreary and damp for weeks now as winter set in. Maybe the sun had pushed past the clouds as a form of goodbye. A last touch of warmth before the metal tomb that stretched down the station platform before you swallowed you whole.

The Victory Tour was to begin in a matter of moments.

There was a cruel sense of comfort as you peered across the cobbled station at your family and the ever bustling Capital team featuring Thatcher Bellstone - your escort, and Hyacinth, your stylist from the Games, who was currently fussing with straightening jacket collars and lint rolling trousers.

Everyone had been dressed to the nines in typical Capital fashion. Callan and Dorian featured matching knit hats and handmade mittens, your Father bearing a new fur lined duster, and Mags had a cream colored muff to protect her aging hands that matched her coat.

And Finnick - God why was he even here?

His navy wool coat matched the emerald scarf hugging his throat in a neat knot. Black trousers and snow dusted dress shoes holding a casual stance as the boy’s bronze waves danced in the breeze. Your jaw set in annoyance. The two of you still hadn’t spoken, hadn’t interacted since the train ride six months ago. Vague glimpses of Bronze waves and liqueur coated chuckles had ventured through your cracked windows some nights but you could barely look at the fellow victor without wanting to punch him. The pleasure he seemed to take in being “Desirable” made your insides churn.

All cheshire smirks and no bite. That’s who Finnick Odair was. You’d stopped trying to decipher the hazy echoes of his cries that barely formed your name three months ago. How he’d even seen you on those cliffs that night was wild all on it’s own. Maybe you had imagined it - some half-baked, desperate, imaginary cry for help. Useless. Worthless.

He’d never care about you - maybe anyone - that way. It didn’t matter.

None of it mattered.

Adjusting the dappled grey coat Hyacinth had dressed you in to match the twin’s, you averted your eyes from the Victor just as sea green irises flashed in your direction. You were thankful he wouldn’t be coming with. Finnick would rejoin your ensemble once the tour made it back to District 4 in a few weeks, but until then you’d be Peacock free.

Your senses felt wired with electricity as cameras flashed, with your knuckles burning under the vice-like fists you’d balled at your sides. You didn’t want to go, but you didn’t have a choice. It was tradition for the Victor of every Games to take a tour across the twelve districts and speak to the families of fallen tributes. The idea made you sick. You hadn’t won anything. You’d only survived.

Dorian and Callan were blubbering like sea sponges against your chest as you bent down to grip them tight. “It’s just for a little while…” You murmured while breathing in the love in their identical hair. The words were meek and your breath hitched on the end of the sentence but you bit down on the hiccuping sob prodding your throat and squeezed the boys tighter.

You’d said similar words before entering a death match mere months ago.

“Shh.. it’s gonna be okay, there’s plenty of tea in the ice box. Just don’t stress out Pa okay? Do your chores and be good. I love you.” You murmured between pressed lips, pulling back to look the twins in the eye. The boys nodded vigorously, giving tiny smiles between tear stained faces and red button noses. “We’ll be SO good!” Callan chirped with a small salute.

“That’s my boys.” You rasped, pulling down both of their knit hats over their eyes before quickly standing just as cameras flashed and elated shrieks echoed across the stones from the boys. Your heart squeezed as scruff brushed your cheeks while your Father came to envelope you in a bear hug with his good arm.

“Be good kid, be good..”

“I will, I will…” You nodded back, squeezing the man just as tight.

“Come, Come! We need to keep on schedule!” Thatcher clapped their burnt sienna gloves twice, calling everyone’s attention and causing the warm embrace of your Father to disappear as he returned to the boys a few paces away. The twins were busy ogling Finnick. Ironically, despite your disdain for the Darling, they’d taken a steep interest in the older boy as some “cool kid” much like how they referred to popular younglings at school. It made your eye twitch sometimes, but Finnick wasn’t mean or short with them. If anything he was kind and caring. Gentle. It was weird, seeing Finnick be gentle with someone other than Mags.

You tried to brush off the rising warmth in your chest.

Mags had soon appeared beside your Father, and the two silently communicated in hushed whispers from the man with Mags waving off his worries with gentle nods and heart warming smiles. They no doubt were discussing how to handle your terrors and your ‘zero alcohol’ rule they’d been enforcing the past months. You were thankful they didn’t let you sink too far, but sometimes the itch for that familiar numbness and sway in your vision picked at your brain a bit too harshly.

“Right! We have a tight - tight! Schedule to follow now. Smile for the cameras and let us be on our way dear. You’ll be back before you know it!” Thatcher bellowed between a phlegmy cough. Rolling your eyes, you gave everyone one last hug before standing in front of the bronze-haired Victor while everyone else filed onto the train or off to the side.

“Peacock..”

“Still using names are we? Didn’t know you liked me that much~” Finnick all but purred, earning another eye roll from you. “Shut up. Just - don’t corrupt my siblings while i’m gone. I can barely handle one of you, I don’t need three Peacocks running around.” You huffed with a wave of your hand. Finnick chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as his voice had all but deepened and matured further these past months. “Can’t say that’d be the worst thing, would it?” You felt the tips of your ears burn at the flirtatious tone in his voice and shoved his shoulder away before turning around to face the train.

“Goodbye, Odair.”

“Hey - just..”

You couldn’t help but stiffen as the boy turned you back to face him, a firm hand gently brushing your shoulder. The urge to punch him had your jaw setting all over again.

“Don’t sink. You’ll be back.” Finnick’s voice was soft, softer than you’d ever heard it and for a moment you felt as if a thread ran from your heart up to meet his fingertips on your arm. He was never gentle. Not like this. “Stop being weird, Peacock.” You shrugged his hand off your shoulder despite the burning you felt in your cheeks and swiftly turned and strode away.

You had to have imagined it. The softness in his eyes that made him look younger, more alive. The honey in his tone that matched something you’d only read about. There was no way.

None.

The metallic click of the train car doors closing managed to snap you out of your thoughts as you scrubbed a stray tear from your cheek. Hyacinth coming over to flit about a powdered brush to fix the small amount of cosmetics she’s applied to your skin earlier that afternoon. “It’s wonderful to see you again darling, absolutely wonderful.” The stylist chirps while brushing an airy kiss past each of your cheeks.

You feel a bit sick.

A lot sick - actually.

Time moves almost in slow motion for a moment as your knees buckle and next thing you know you’re on the floor hurling up the biscuit and pear jam you’d choked down that morning. Ringing starts in your ears and a shrill cry from Hyacinth has Thatcher and Mags bustling over to help as the room sways and your trembling hands become blurry behind tears.

You’d been caged all over again.

The tour took a little over two weeks.

Every day and different district you visited felt like an eternity. You’d barely been able to keep anything down as the haunted faces of fallen Tributes and their families plagued every waking thought. Hyacinth continued applying increasingly heavier cosmetics to try and conceal your pain. Your facial features had become gaunt from the retching with deep smudges of purple making homes beneath your dull eyes. You couldn’t stand looking out at the families of people you had or hadn’t killed and having the audacity to apologize and read a flimsy notecard scrawled in neat cursive by Thatcher expressing that their deaths somehow meant something. You’d been verbally assaulted by crowd members gathered in the District’s Judicial Complexes more times than you cared to count.

Liar.

Murderer.

Cheat.

Thief.

The colorful names they called you felt like repeated blows to the gut. And they somehow knew exactly where to hit. Part of you wondered how Finnick had done this. How Mags had done this. How any Victor of the Games had done this. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t handle any of this.

“I-I can’t… I can’t Mags…” You’d begged and pleaded with your mentor to let you not go on stage. Begged her to not make you face another grieving family while you stood there alive like some prize winning salmon. It didn’t matter how much you’d survived you were still a coward. You didn’t deserve to be here.

Coward.

You’d been a coward to hide. It didn’t matter that you’d survived, you’d still killed and fought your way to the end of the 67th Games. You were everything those hecklers claimed you to be and worse and you knew it. Mags gripped your shoulders tight and forced your eyes to meet hers. Her stare alone told you everything you needed to know before she wrapped you in her thin arms and squeezed tight. You didn’t have a choice in this. You understood she’d have done everything and anything to keep you from going out there if she could but she couldn’t.

By the time the tour reached District 7 you’d gone numb.

“Panem thanks your tributes for their bravery. A-and I thank… th-thank them for their sacrifice…” You stammered on the sentence you’d read six times now. You’d continued to stumble through it for the past six districts you’d been forced to speak in front of. A bottle hits the front edge of the stage with a shattering crash, and angered shouts rouse from the crowd as Peacekeepers force themselves forward in an ordered line, batons shooting from holsters and sharp-shooter rifles strapped across their chests. Your eyes squeeze shut as white gloves grip your under arms and force you away. The speech remains unfinished.

Heavy wooden doors slam behind you and gentle hands grip your face as your mouth contorts to an even deeper frown. The owners fingers are soft, but a tinge cold. Mags. Your eyelids crack and the flimsy, wrinkled notecard in your hands falls to the floor as you crumple into the elders arms. The embrace is short as Thatcher comes up to usher your team to the train as shouting starts to echo through the thick doors behind you.

Coward.

“Best we be on our way. Things seem to be getting a bit out of sorts here.” Thatcher chirps, but their face is solemn as your eyes meet. “Come now Dear,” They sigh. Your only reply is a meek nod. Hyacinth provides a small handkerchief to wipe your eyes and the mechanical maneuvers of the Capital train greet your party as the machine lurches into motion minutes later. ‘Just a few more days…’ You try to remind yourself as Mags helps guide you to the observatory car. You didn’t need the physical support but welcomed it as the two of you found places to curl up on the large, curved sofa. The seats were as plush as you’d remembered.

You’d managed to spend most of your down time here. The scents of damp earth and various florals were comforting. Except the stark-white roses, which had been removed from the various coffee tables to one corner of the room. You tried not to look at them. Your mentor laid a gentle hand to your knee as you curled up to peer out the window. Buildings passed and turned into tall trees, citizens working the lumber were only spotty blurs amongst the rush of the train. “It’s hard to keep doing this over and over Mags…” You sigh, sparing a glance to the elder before continuing. “It’s almost like reliving the arena over and over…” A small squeeze to your knee was enough to turn your attention from the window.

Mags’ eyes seemed far away. Although she maintained eye contact with you, you could tell she was somewhere else. Revisiting the countless tributes she’d mentored in the past no doubt. Her small smile didn’t meet her eyes like it normally did. A few hand gestures from the woman was enough to convey what a part of you was itching to ask.

“It never gets easier. Only tolerable.” You echoed. Mags nods, and your knee receives another small squeeze. Your response is a small hum, moving a hand to cover hers as your fingers gently interlace. You’d had quite enough of the tears and the pains overwhelming your thoughts. The past half a year had been harrowing enough. Maybe it was time to take something back from Snow. From the Capital. From the Games. From all of Panem. A muscle in your jaw tenses before you speak, “I-I want to get better.. learn to tolerate it.” You mutter.

“I’m sick of being useless. Of sitting, and doing nothing. I don’t want to show the Capital that they hold power over me. That they’ve hurt me. They’ve seen enough of my heart, it’s time they see something else.”

An echo of words from the train platform almost a week ago ebb their way to the forefront of your mind.

“Don’t sink.”

You wouldn’t sink. Not anymore.

A twinkle of hope appears in Mags’ eyes as spiteful determination sparks in yours. That flame in your chest sparking back to life with a newfound vigor. You’d be better. You had to be.

You will not die. You will survive. And you will float - not sink.

You don’t stutter through anymore speeches from them on. You wouldn’t let them see that they got to you. Even if you broke behind closed doors, hiccuping sobs on the onyx tile of your bathroom floor, you wouldn’t dare let anyone else see it from now on.

Coward.

Arriving back to District 4 was a monumental relief, even if it was only for a day. The twins were overjoyed, forgetting a certain Bronze-haired boy’s existence the moment you stepped onto the cobblestone platform. Your nickname is a shriek behind elated laughter as you kneel to embrace the boys.

“Sheesh, what have they been feeding you boys? You’ve gotten taller and it’s only been a week!” You quip behind a coy smile. Dorian simply shakes his head and clings to your arm while correcting you that it’s been longer than seven days while Callan hollers a retort saying you’re lying. “Nuh uh! We’re just the same!”

You’re dressed in the same dappled grey coat with the edition of a sage colored scarf as breathy puffs of white air curl through your conversations.

“Uncorrupted just as you ordered.” Finnick quips with a dramatic wave of his hand and a slight bow as he approaches. Your eyes roll in annoyance but you can’t help the slight pull at the corners of your mouth. “My hero,” you deadpan as you rise, picking up Dorian and setting him on your hip. Finnick is dressed much the same as when you last saw him, though his bronze waves are more tousled than usual. His scarf is tied tighter around his throat, but you still catch the tinge of red and purple smears under his jawline. A tightness seizes your chest as Finnick seems to notice your stare and adjusts the knitted material.

“It’s nothing.” The boy claims, but a crease draws his brows in, and his tanned fingers pick a piece of invisible lint from the lapel of his navy coat. “Hm,” You hum in response, averting your own gaze back down to the twins as you feel an awkwardness rise in the air. You clear your throat while scrunching your nose and wetting your lips a moment before moving to say hello to your Father. Finnick remains rooted to his spot, but you can sense the Darling’s eyes lingering on your form as you retreat.

The rest of your visit to District 4 runs smoothly. There isn't much of a speech to be given, rather a small banquet is held in your honor instead. You dread parties, and a painful twist in your stomach squeezes as you sit through the meal that night under the beaming lights of the Judicial Complex auditorium making your head start to spin. What a part of you wouldn't give for one of the many glasses of champagne floating around, but based on the daggers Mags sends your way each time you reach for one of the crystal glasses has you quickly retreating and second-guessing your decisions. Finnick is somehow glued to your side much to your dismay. The boy looks almost like a prince. His pine-colored poet's tunic is cut low, almost to his navel, with black, slim-fit trousers with knee-high laced boots to match with a shimmer of iridescent luster sprinkled across his clavicle and the highest points of his cheeks. The miniature rendition of his famous trident rests around his neck again as well. Part of you wonders if Hyacinth and the boy's stylist were in cahoots behind the scenes as your equally pine-colored ensemble matches the elegance of Finnick's outfit a bit too well. You weren't fond of form-fitted clothing but had become rather desensitized to the matter following Hyacinth's frequent choices to show off your figure. Your garment tonight was a form-fitted silk gown that featured a high slit up your left thigh and an open back. The sleeves were off the shoulder and flowed in a balloon-like fashion before gathering once more at your wrists. Inky, strapped shoes with a short heel could be glimpsed at your feet as well. part of you wondered if Finnick had caught on to the whole ordeal but by the carefree, cheshire smirk on his rosy lips you couldn't tell.

Finnick had caught on the moment you'd stepped into the auditorium.

It felt as if he’d been set on fire. Sparks shot like lightning up his arms and across his chest as he couldn’t help drinking you in from across the room. That excruciatingly tight thread in his chest started to fray.

Finnick tried not to think about it.

He couldn't. He shouldn't.

'Shit...'

The closeness as you sat beside Finnick absentmindedly picking at your plate, not even a foot away had the boy so overwhelmed he couldn't think, only sparing a glance your way every now and then while trying to casually drape himself over his chair. The effort to keep a smirk on his face and a carefree aura was suffocating. What the hell was wrong with him? You’d sat next to or across from one another plenty of times. He'd seen you dressed up like this plenty of times.

Okay - maybe it had only been on screens but that was besides the point.

He had to get a grip. He'd already heard the rumors of there being something between the two of you from the Games starting to stir again amongst the elites as the end-of-tour banquet in the Capital district edged closer in the coming days. You didn't need more to stress over. especially not regarding him. You may have been able to keep a mask of chemical calm when dealing with everyone around you but he could see the shadows under your eyes and the limpness in your hair. Your hands still trembled, and your lower lip remained puffy from biting it. He'd learned your anxious habits from quiet observation. He had plenty of his own tells he was well aware of himself.

Finnick silently cursed himself again.

You were lucky enough to sleep in your own bed for the night, though Dorian and Callan insisted on joining you as if they were attention-deprived puppies. You welcomed their embraces as they nestled close, but knew you'd end up in a corner of the mattress without any blanket to keep warm as the boys occupied the majority of the bed space available. But you didn't mind. Nor did you want to leave them again so soon. But the tour had to be finished. You rested easier that night than you had in weeks, despite the bed-hogging of your siblings.

The morning was met with a quiet breakfast and another teary-eyed goodbye. Then it was back on the train and on to the final three districts. Homes of the Career Tributes.

This time around, Finnick had joined your party of escorts for the last leg of your journey. He claimed he had some occupations to fill and favors to uphold but didn't offer more explanation than that. He'd also opted for wearing higher-necked shirts and sweaters around the train, which you had found unusual compared to his normal attire, but didn't bother to question. It was his business and therefore you needn't bother with it. Pretty Peacocks had Pretty Peacock things to do, you supposed.

The remaining districts were as troublesome as the last eight. District 2 was especially harsh, considering the blade you'd driven through the chest of their male tribute in the final moments of the Games. The district of luxury held nothing back as the family spewed filth your way for your cowardness in killing their son. You couldn't manage to keep your dinner down that night. You didn't stay in your personal quarters either, opting to remain in the Observatory car instead.

You hadn't missed the dazzling limelight of the Capital district.

You especially hadn't missed the pawing hands of the elite citizens.

The gala outside of President Snow's mansion was beyond anything you'd seen previously. To say the vibrant lights and overstuffed buffet tables were overwhelming would be an understatement. They were downright outrageous. Between the high-pitched caws of heiresses and the phlegmy coughs and sticky fingers of brokers and other top-class citizens and staff, you felt your skin practically buzzing from the overstimulation. You wanted nothing more than to slip away or melt into the floor. Peacekeepers lined every alcove and doorway on guard. But there wasn't any concern for the groping hands or lingering touches as you tried your best to squeeze through the crowd. Thatcher had disappeared almost instantaneously, swallowed up by the sea of brightly dressed vultures. You felt your breath grow hyper as your eyes darted around in search of anyone to hold onto and ground yourself. Finnick could be spotted across the swell of dancers in the hall hanging on the arm of two squawking elitists. The Darling was dusted in a similar luster you'd seen at the banquet in District 4, except in much more excess as the boy wore an organza tunic the color of his eyes that left little to be imagined. His trousers were bone white with chestnut dress shows. The Darling was equally adorned in dainty, golden chains as he was glitter and smudged lipstick. Your own cheeks burned at the blatant display.

What on earth was he doing??

Your eyes locked for a mere second, your bewildered gaze pleading, if not begging but the victor paid you no mind as pointed, too-white canines flashed in scandalous conversation with the people around him. You were utterly stranded.

Someone gripped your backside suddenly, earning a yelp and the urge to whip back and punch but instead, you whirl, backing straight into someone's shoulder. Amid the swirling music and voices, you felt tears spring to your eyes, threatening to spill as a gloved hand catches your waist and you're steadied on your feet. Your deep aqua gown whispers on the tiled floor (yes, another secret match to finnick's ensemble) and you're sputtering apologies quicker than you can think. You had to get out of here.

"It's quite alright Dear. A bit overwhelmed are we?"

"I- uhm... I'm so sorry, s-sir." You stutter as you behold the man standing before you. Snow white hair slicked back, with a neatly groomed beard and stark white suit has you gulping down the lump forming in your throat.

President Coriolanus Snow is standing in front of you.

You wish nothing more than to be shot dead right then and there. The creator of your horrors, of the hardships across the districts and the killing games children are forced to play in, was standing in front of you with his hand on your waist. A wolf in sheep's clothing. The devil himself.

A string of colorful profanities cycles through your mind as you're only able to blink in horror and feigned surprise. Any confidence or spite you thought you might have leeches from your mind as your skin blanches.

"I've been meaning to have a word with you. You did quite well in the Games this season, and have caught the interest of a few...clients, of mine. Not to mention the Mockingjays flittering about with rumors of a certain Darling, hm?" The President's tone is hollow. His steeled gaze bores into your own and you can't form the words to reply before the gloved hand at your waist slides up your torso and over to the back of your arm as the older man begins to guide you. The crowd instantly parts and conversations nearby halt, obviously eavesdropping on what the President of Panem has to say.

"Let us move away from prying ears. Gossip is a terrible thing." The President drawls as he pats your elbow. You swallow hard with a meek nod, sucking your lower lip between your teeth and feeling the taste of copper coat your tongue. You bit too hard.

No words are exchanged between the two of you as you pass a very unbothered Finnick, his cheeks and honey-tanned skin are flushed as his overly dilated pupils pay you no heed. Something was wrong. very wrong. The Darling reeked of champagne, mint, and something you couldn't place, and strong. The heiresses on his arms were speaking in hushed, sultry tones, and were tugging at his barely-there tunic. The boy wasn't fighting back. Your stomach drops to your toes as you can only sense the growing fear coming from the crease between his brows and the muscle fluttering in his jaw.

The greenhouse the President brings you to has bile rising to your throat. Every pot, bed, soil flat, and more was covered in white roses. The sickly sweet scent had your skin crawling and nose scrunching, despite the tang of fear on your tongue and the gnawing pressure squeezing your chest. Snow gestures for you to sit on a stone bench near a small fountain. The water gurgles as it threatens to overflow the basin it waters. Snow takes his place beside you, a gentle twist in his torso that sends whispers of his blazer over his silk shirt.

"You put on quite a show in the Arena my Dear. Playing soft and subtle but outlasting the wolves and striking like an asp in the end. You caused quite a stir amongst high-profile viewers. There have been whispers of intrigue about you. Many people covet a doe amongst a pack of wolves. Soft and sweet - like a lily among a field of thorned roses. Something to control," Snow begins. You feel miniscule compared to the powerhouse of a man beside you. You worry he can scent the fear seeping into your bones as you clasp your hands together like a vice to hide the trembling.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't quite follow."

Snow chuckles. Chuckles. The sound makes you wish to crawl out of your skin.

" Certain individuals feed on control. On submission. Complete - submission." The President's eyes grow dark and feel yourself shifting away, though the attempt is futile on the small bench.

"I'm saying people want you. You're - Desirable."

Desirable.

You'd heard the word only in hushed whispers less than a handful of times. Mainly when Finnick was involved. This couldn't be good. An awful nausea settles in your stomach as the President makes his proposal.

"Predators enjoy the hunt of their prey. The thrill of the hunt. They want a new Desirable Victor. Yes, they've had their shiny new Princeling to enjoy and ravish. Mr. Odair, if I'm not mistaken. But with your victory and spectacular display, they crave more. So I'm offering this," The mention of Finnick's status holds a venom that solidifies the sickness in your gut. If you could run far, far away right now, you would. And you'd sure as hell hunt down the vipers coiled around Finnick and take him with you.

"Become Desirable - or those fetching siblings of yours, and dear old Father, and everyone you hold dear, will be punished. Severely. What are their names? Dorian? Callan?" The President squints his eyes, crow's feet becoming pronounced around the corners of his eyes as your throat goes dry. Horror shoots through you as your heart all but shatters into a million pieces.

"Maybe I should throw in your dear Peacock, hm? The Capital would adore a star-crossed scandal. Trading their prince for a heartbroken princess?"

"P-please..." You murmur, the word barely audible.

"There's no room for discussion here. They'll be dead by morning if you don't accept. For the greater good of Panem and the strength of the Games, Dear."

Your vision blurs as defeat slashes your chest. Your limbs feel like jelly as you feel blood drip down your chin from the bite on your lip and a dampness coats your cheeks.

"Let them live..." You squeak.

Shame filters through the horror and disgust you feel. But you have to keep them safe. You'd lay down your own life sooner than any of theirs. Always.

A white glove smudges the blood from your chin, a crimson stain coating the President's glove as he accepts your agreement and gestures for you to stand. You do.

"Smile for the cameras Dear, tonight will be grand."

You can't bring your lips to move. Another tear slides down your face.

President Snow wipes the stray tear from your blanched cheek as a vile grin adds to the wrinkles on his face. You say nothing as the Predator guides you away from the greenhouse and up to the balcony overlooking the party. The President clears his throat and the room falls silent.

Finnick is nowhere to be seen through the crowd and panic surges through your chest.

"My dear citizens of the Capital, and all of Panem. I have a very special announcement to make this evening. As you know, we are gathered here tonight in honor of the Victor of our 67th Annual Hunger Games. " Snow's voice booms over the gala. Your insides churn as he continues to announce the sentence to seal your fate. You'd lost an even bigger game than you thought imaginable. You can’t find Finnick anywhere. A part of you wants to scream.

"May I present to you my dearest subjects, the doe who won against all odds. They prey who vanquished the beasts. Your new desirable," Snow bellows your name with a venom that makes you fear vomiting right then and there. You weren't a Victor, you weren't a survivor, you weren't even considered a human anymore. You were a product. You were a doe staring down the maw of a starving wolf.

You were nothing.

Mechanical shutters fill your ears as flashes blind your vision. You’re supposed to be smiling. Things will get worse if you don’t smile. But all you can feel is the bile rising in your throat and your leaden tongue refusing to move. The sickly scent of roses invades your senses as gloved hands pat your trembling ones that grip the President’s suit jacket like a vice. You don’t dare move an inch.

There are two things you've learned to despise since surviving The Games.

1. Liars

2. President Coriolanus Snow

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