#drops on all fours clown hole??

[27thfirefly]

BEAUTIFUL DOOM - BANG POW BOOM!

[disneyanddisneyships]

@gyubby99 okay I gave in...

Warnings: Alastir probably being out of character. Use of cuss wirds.. like... a lot of em. Me just character building my OC

Summary: Aponi sings a song to tell Valentino that she quits..

2 minute notice!

Aponi walked on stage, the lights out as she adjusted to sit where she needed to, her dress a dress that Valentino had picked out.

The music started and she took a breath.

I have wasted time, I have seen my use I have packaged and sold every part of me Suffered a lifetime of abuse

She sang as she stood up grabbing an empty bottle, throwing it onto the floor.

I have lost myself, I have worshipped at your feet And here I am standing on top of the world with some bitches to defeat

As she sang, the lights moved to where E stood, glaring.

I've played the game, I've won it all

As she sang, the lights on stage got brighter.

They've screamed my name, they bought the doll

Aponi noticed all the merchandise with her name on it and rolled her eyes.

I've seized the day, now I'vе got one thing left to say-ay-ay Fuck you!

As the beat dropped, the lights turned on and aponi smiled as she looked straight to where Valentino sat.

Herе's my two minutes notice, fuck you Time to quit and smell the roses Say goodbye, while I look you in the eye and say "Fuck you!"

She sang, holding up all four of her middle fingers.

Fuckity, fuckity, fuckity, fuckity you! Fuck you!

Valentino glared. "This better not be about me," he muttered.

"Oh, it is!" Alastor smiled as he watched his wife bash her boss.

I have taken shit (Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh) Been crushed under your heel (Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh) I have suffered for profit and suckered for fame (Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh) Made a fortune you could steal (Ooh-ooh)

As aponi sang, shadows of her past made an appearance. Jason dragging her up by a chain and Valentino crushing her and hitting her.

I've had enough, I've hit the wall I'm tired of taking your calls It ends today, now there's just one last thing to say-ay-ay

As aponi sang, her phone rung. Valentino, attempting to get her to stop this madness.

Fuck you! I wish I'd said it sooner, fuck you Cut you off, just like a tumor Hope you die, kiss my ass goodbye, you cuck, fuck you!

She sang as her wings flew her into the audience.

Have you ever felt sick and tired of doing the same shit everyday with your anger brewin'? Eatin' shit for a boss that you're sick of obeyin'? If you ever felt the same, let me hear ya say it!

She rapped quickly before flying back onstage, stairs appearing for her to climb.

Did you really think I was gonna stay? Spending life bent over with your fist in my A

Alastors eyes widened at the lyrics and he snorted, holding in a laugh.

Slander me, say I'll never work in this town If I stick around, I'll be six more feet under the ground

As she sang, she fell into a hole in the ground.

When she came back out, her outfit changed to be more her.

Fuck you! (Woah-oh-oh!) Here's my two minutes notice, fuck you (Suck it, greedy bastard) (You're a fucking, ass clown) Time to quit and smell the roses

As she sang, she flew throughout the club, her smile wide.

Say goodbye, too late to apologize! So this is it, Valentino, you sad sack of shit, fuck you!

As she sang his name, Valentino stood up angrily, pushing down a waitress to get her out of the way.

(Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you) You bitch! Yeah!

As the song finished aponi walked up to the stage.

"I am so glad to have each and every one of you here for my last performance at this club.... because.. well.... I quit!!!" Aponi announced before dropping the Mike and walking away.

Only to be stopped by Valentino himself.

"You fucking, what?!" He asked darkly as he blocked her way off stage.

"You heard me. I quit! Angel wings~" she mocked, wlaking past the overlord.

A bluish grey smoke erupted from where Val stood as he grew almost 100 times his own size.

"YOU UNGREATFUL BITCH!" He yelled.

Aponi stood there with a hard glare into his eyes, holding her ground.

Red smoke blasted from behind her as Alastor in his full demon form appeared.

"Back Off, Valentino," Alastor ordered, his eyes glowing red.

"I'd be careful Alastor. Wouldn't want your little secrets to get out~" Val mocked with an evil smirk plastered on his face.

"I don't care anymore!" Alastor shouted.

"Al..?" Aponi asked quietly, nervous.

"Wouldn't want everyone here to know about-"

"The secret of my marriage to Aponi? Well, I don't care who knows it," Alastor replied, igniting a string of whispers throughout the club.

Val glared. "You'll regret that revelation, alastor," Valentino hissed before dissapearing in a cloud of smoke..

Alastor's full demon form melted away and Aponi ran up to hug him.

As they hugged, aponi got a small headache.

"Darling?" Alastor asked as they pulled apart, his eyes wide.

"What?" She asked before touching her forehead to feel Antennae. "What the-"

"What are those?" Alastor asked as he touched them.

Aponi flinched.

"They're really... sensitive," She stated

Alastor tilted his head. "How about we go back home and figure it out later after a good nap and some dinner?" He stated.

"That sounds wonderful," Aponi replied as they walked back to their limo.

.........

As aponi and alastor held onto one another, angel sat across from them, clearing his throat and drawing their attention.

"So.... who tops?" He asked with a smirk.

Alastor groaned and aponi smirked at him.

[macabrebatz]

How You Met Baby Firefly

Author’s Note: Here’s yet another part of my “How You Met The Slashers” series. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings/notes: Gender Neutral Reader, cursing

You walked into the tiny gas station. It was late at night and you were extremely lost.

"Welcome to Captain Spaulding's Museum of Monsters and Madmen. How may I help you, darlin'?" a man asked, emerging from a back room.

He wore clown facepaint and an old white t shirt. He leaned on the counter and stared at you.

"I was wondering if you knew how to get to get to Ruggsville? I think I accidentally got turned around a few times and now I'm lost," I said.

"Well you're about 80 miles from Ruggsville. That's a long drive to be making in the middle of the night," he said.

"Yes, well-" I was cut of by a voice coming from behind me.

"Daddy, do you have any chicken cooked?"

I turned around and there stood a woman with a mop of curly blonde hair. She wore a white crop top and low rise jeans that were littered with holes and patches.

"Hey, cutie," she said greeting me.

"Hi," I said.

She turned back to the man in the clown makeup who apparently was her father.

"Why the fuck do you wanna know? You got food at your momma's house," he said.

He sounded rather annoyed.

"Mom's not cooking tonight," she said.

"Go in the back and get what you need," he grunted.

She thanked him and made her way to the door behind the counter. I cleared my throat a little bringing his attention back to me.

"Sorry about that. Ruggsville, you said?" he asked. I nodded and he took out a piece of paper. He drew a rectangle and a few lines leading from it to the word 'Ruggsville'.

"You're here," he said, pointing at the rectangle, "You take this road. Keep going straight until you see this exit. Take it, then go right, then take the second left," he explained.

"Thank you so much. I love your store by the way. All of this stuff is pretty neat," I said, gesturing to all of the oddities that surrounded us.

"Thank you," he said.

The girl from before exited the back room with a bucket of fried chicken in her arm.

"Thank you, dad," she said. He simply rolled his eyes.

I turned to leave the gas station and behind me followed the energetic blonde.

"Is that your car?" she asked, walking behind me.

"Yeah, why do you ask?" My voice trailed off as I looked up at my car. I stopped on my tracks and my mouth dropped.

She stopped beside me.

"That's fucked up," she said.

The tires of my car, all four, had been slashed. The car snuck down in the asphalt as the air had been let out of the tires.

"Shit," I said, "Who the hell would do that?"

I felt hopeless. Not only was I lost but I was also stranded.

"Hey, my brother has a tow truck. We can ride to my house and get him to come get your car. I'm not sure if we have spare tires but he can get some tomorrow when the store opens," the woman said.

"You'd do that for me?" I questioned.

"Yeah, you seem fun. My name is Baby," she said as she held out her hand.

"(Y/N)," I said.

[spideysmjs]

pandemonium (the good place au)

Hey everyone! I hope you all are having a great day! Here’s my submission for MJ Week 2022 -- based off Season 1′s finale of The Good Place!

For Day Six of @mjweek: Figuring It Out

MJ as Eleanor

Peter as Chidi

Flash as Tahani

Brad as Jason

Ned as Janet

Mr. Harrington as Michael 

Quentin Beck as Shawn 

“You have 30 minutes,” Mr. Beck turns on a countdown floating above the four of their heads before crossing his arms and walking away as he continues to MJ’s bedroom, “because I won’t be returning to the Bad Place without two people.”

As soon as he disappears from the living room, MJ turns around to face a poor, hopeless Harrington. She scans his face carefully before he says, "All I wanted was my first neighborhood to be perfect. Now you’re all suffering. I’m sorry.”

Harrington steps away, standing quietly behind the clown-painted automatic doors to MJ’s bedroom, listening to the sound of the circus echo before leaving the four of them alone to make their final decision.

MJ paces around the room while everyone drops to the couch, unsure of what to do. When she faces them, they stare at her, waiting for another clever, roundabout solution—despite being completely out of ideas. 

A tiny, very tiny, smile tugs at the corner of her lips. 

No one’s ever depended on her like this. 

Maybe she is changing. Maybe Peter’s heroic lessons have worked out for her. After all, she did help an elderly woman cross the street today, even if there are no cars in The Good Place. Maybe her growth in leading this rag-tag team of hopeless dead people is a sign. Maybe it’s a sign that she should... go.

“It has to be me and Brad,” she says, putting her best face forward. All three pairs of eyes widen at her answer. “We’re the ones that lied and dragged you down. We deserve to leave.”

Without missing a beat, Peter and Flash simultaneously say, “Agreed.”

“Wow, thought you’d at least pretend to care,” she murmurs. 

Brad stands up immediately, throwing his hands in the air. “Woah, woah. That Beck guy said we’ve all done bad things here. So let’s look at this ethnically.” 

“Ethically,” Peter sighs quietly. Without looking, MJ can tell his eyes are rolling to the back of his head, brimming with impatience that he’s too good to reveal. Whatever. Whatever. So what if she can tell? It’s not like Peter’s her real soulmate anyway. It’s not like she’s the real MJ of The Good Place. 

Ignoring Peter, Brad points out, “You guys did something bad by helping me and MJ. It’s basic consequentialism. The morality of an action is solely judged on its consequences.”

Peter claps his hands and stands up. “Now you’re learning? Now?”

“Peter’s done worse stuff than me! I just minded my own business. I pretended I didn’t even talk, man. He murdered Ned! He murdered my best friend!”

“I was trying to stop you from doing it!” 

“Ned is not your best friend,” Flash stands up. “There’s a Ned in every neighborhood!”

“Well, this Ned is MY best friend. We exchanged friendship bracelets.”

 “Oh my God,” MJ groans. “B-Dog, let’s discuss this in the other room.”

MJ drags him away. 

“What?”

“Come on, dude. You barely paid attention to Peter’s classes. Peter has worked way too hard for us to just send him to the Bad Place,” she says. “He’s helped me a lot, Brad.”

“Fine.”

“Really? That was easy.”

“Whatever, dude. But if they want to tear someone’s asshole out, you’re going first,” Brad points out.

“Fine, sure. It’s not like we won’t be tortured for the rest of our damn lives,” MJ retorts, dragging him back into the living room. “Alright, Team Meeting. Brad has agreed to come with me to the Bad Place.”

Peter and Flash stare at her, speechless. 

“Yeah. Bye, Flash. Sorry I wasn’t a good soulmate,” Brad says. “You can clean my bud-hole out once we disintegrate.”

“We’re not going to disintegrate,” MJ says.

“Yet,” Brad adds.

She walks away, heading closer to Peter. There’s a frown etched upon his face. How does heartbreak feel so real in heaven? How is she going to tell Peter that she’ll miss him? Maybe even think about him sometimes in between torture sessions? 

“It’s been real, my dude,” she blurts out. Peter grins. “Sorry. I just... I’m not saying goodbye or ending things. Kinda how I always end things.”

“Checks out,” he grins at the ground momentarily, before his smile begins to fall. “I feel like I failed you.”

“No, no Peter,” MJ says, tearing up. “Don’t say that.” She places her hands on Peter’s shoulders. “I fell into a cave. You were my flashlight.” 

Before Peter can say anything, Flash interrupts their moment, pulling MJ into an embrace. “I’m gonna miss you, girl.”

She laughs. “I’ll miss you, too.” 

They all pull into one, final group hug. MJ didn’t think she could ever care about anyone so much until being here, until learning how to be better—how to actually think about others before herself, unlike how she’d been raised.

There’s a pounding on the door before they can head out.

It bursts open.

Michelle. Well, the other Michelle. MJ squints. What does she want? She can have her soulmate after MJ leaves. 

“I’m taking one of the slots for the Bad Place.”

“What?!” they all shout, aside from Brad who smiles, “Awesome!”

MJ shoves Brad. 

Peter steps forward to Michelle, frowning. “What? Why?”

“Everyone else here has a soulmate... and my soulmate doesn’t love me.” Peter shifts his feet. MJ watches carefully as his body language shifts when Michelle points out, “I don’t know if you love MJ or Flash or whoever else is here in this neighborhood, but... you don’t love me. Which means that this... will never be my Good Place. I’m going. So pick one more person.”

Without time for anyone to disagree, she disappears through the front door as fast as she walked through.

“Sooo,” MJ smacks her lips. “Let’s just get this over with. I’ll go. You three stay.”

“Yes!” Brad says, turning to Ned. “We did it!”

Ned pulls him into a hug.

“No, you’re not going,” Peter says. “I’m going.”

“Wh.. what?” MJ asks. 

“Michelle—the other one you know—she’s my soulmate. Or was. She’s only going down there because she thinks I don’t love her.”

“Well do you?” Flash asks. 

“Please don’t ask me that. My stomach hurts more than when Doc Ock used to punch me down to the ground.”

A beat. MJ rolls her eyes, “Peter, you’re ridiculous. I’ve already made up my mind. I’m going. End of story.”

“I’m going,” Flash says. 

“What?” MJ asks. 

“I’m going and replacing Michelle. Peter and I will go together. I think we can really work out no matter where we end up.”

“You do realize that the Good Place isn’t a couple’s retreat right?”

As they continue to bicker with each other, Brad jumps up and down in his couch, thinking and assuming that everyone else will go aside from him. He’s celebrating endlessly in a way that makes the migraine in MJ’s head grow harder and harder. Flash and Peter speak over each other too loudly for her to even understand what they want. 

MJ doesn’t argue any longer, throwing her head back in agony as if the migraine she has now is a migraine that never left since the moment she got here. In fact, every single moment has been agony. The Good Place has stressed her out more than when she lived her life on Earth as a horrible human being. 

It’s almost as if...

“Holy, motherforking shirt balls.”

They all fall silent. Peter asks, “What?”

“Wow,” MJ laughs. “Wow. Beck! Harrington! Come here. We’re ready.”

The doors slide open. Beck asks, “Is everything okay?”

“We’ve made a decision. Peter and I are going to the Bad Place.” The two gentlemen look shocked, but she can see right through their eyes if those really are eyes. 

“Huh?” Peter asks.

“But,” Harrington stutters, “But what about the Real MJ—”

“No. We decided. It’s me and Peter. Call the train.”

Beck says, “I don’t accept this. It’s supposed to be Brad and MJ.”

“Nope. Nope! You said two people. It’s me and Peter. Come on, let’s go.” She glances quickly back at Peter, who's looking at her as if she’s speaking nonsense. It hasn’t clicked for anyone else yet. She stares directly into Harrington’s eyes. “Ready when you are boss.”

A beat. Then Peter asks, “MJ, what’s going on?” 

She nods her head, smiling at the two men in front of her as she turns to Peter. “It took me a while to figure it out. But just now? When we were all fighting and yelling at each other and each of us demanding we should go to the Bad Place, I thought… wow this is torture. And then I realized… they’re never going to call a train to the Bad Place.”

MJ points back to her. “We’re already here. This… this is the Bad Place.”

All four look at Harrington, not needing to wait for a response before he laughs maniacally at them. “Oh, man. I can’t believe you figured it out. Oh, God! MJ, you ruined everything, you know that? You really suck! I was so close to pulling it off.”

MJ crosses her arms in victory. Harrington drops to the couch behind him, knocking a lamp down on purpose. 

“Wait, so MJ’s right?” Flash asks.

“Yep, she’s right as rain,” Harrington laughs. “MJ figured it out.”

“No, this doesn’t make any sense. This is paradise,” Peter says. 

“Peter, it looks like Paradise, but to me, this is a neighborhood full of a clusterfork of our anxieties. I’m surrounded by people who are quite literally better than me. Brad wasn’t allowed to talk, which tortured Flash, who tortured Brad right back for forcing him to talk. I was tortured into trying to be a Good Person, which tortured Peter because he had to be a good soulmate to me. Then, that tortured Flash because Peter doesn’t like Flash.”

“You don’t like me?” Flash pouts.

“Please don’t ask me that,” Peter groans.

MJ points at the two of them. “See?! We’ve all been set to torture each other since the moment we got here! Harrington played us!”

Harrington frowns. “Damn, this sucks.”

“No, it doesn’t,” MJ says. “You really thought you could group the four of us to torture each other… I can see it… A vigilante superhero… a straight-up selfish lawyer… a clueless jock turned failed student-athlete… A rich fraud… You thought we could do this for 1,000 years… but instead, we cared for each other. We helped each other.”

She glances back at the three of her new friends.

“We became a team. So, the only thing you succeeded in doing… was bringing us together.”

Harrington’s eyes pop open. “That’s right. That was my mistake. I brought you together. Put you too close to each other. Next time, I have to separate you!”

Peter asks, “What? Next time?” 

“Yeah, I’m going to erase your memories and try it again once the boss gives me approval!” Harrington rushes out to meet with Beck. 

MJ’s heart is pounding, racing faster than she’s ever known. She has to find a solution. She looks to the rest of them, clueless. Helpless. They look to her like she knows an answer. 

She grabs Peter’s nearest ethics novel, rips the first page, and scribbles something down. 

“Ned,” she turns over to face Ned. “You can’t swallow or eat things right?”

Ned smiles. “No!” 

“Open wide!” MJ instructs Ned as he listens happily, opening his mouth and accepting the crumpled-up piece of paper just before Harrington comes back in.

“Well, are you all ready?” he grins. “Of course you are, you won’t remember.”

“You know what, Harrington? Do your worst. We figured it once, we can do it again. Because you know what Harrington? Ya bas–”

A white flash clouds all of them.

One.

Two.

Three. 

-

MJ opens her eyes in a white room, glancing around, and sees a wall with painted affirmations. 

Everything is fine. 

“Michelle?” an unfamiliar voice comes from behind her. “I’m Mr. Harrington. It’s nice to meet you.”

–

After touring the neighborhood, MJ stands alone now in a house full of clowns, having lied her ass on the first day in freaking heaven. She takes a deep breath, though she barely lets it out until she hears a quiet ding.

Someone appears in front of her, as if out of nowhere. 

“Woah. Who are you?” she yells, backing away at the man whose smile widens from ear to ear. 

“Ned. I think this is for you,” he hands her a crumpled paper. “I found it in my mouth when I was rebooted.”

MJ blinks. “What?” 

It’s not possible. She just got here. She grabs the paper, opening it up. 

MJ - find Peter. 

She furrows her eyebrows. 

“Who the fork is Peter?”

[lady-ragnvindr]

ok i'm having scaramouche brainrot and it's not ok for only me having this feels...

warnings: gn!reader, voyeurism, coming untouched, hint of dacryphilia probably, a bit of non-con, size difference if you squint and reader being a little shit... also, implied omega!scara bcs of the slick(?)

---

working under scaramouche is... fun, hazardous but fun. chaos here, scolding there, fatui agents getting beaten up everywhere; it's quite a sight, really, all of these just because of a ticking time bomb of a harbringer. you never thought that anything would be more amusing than the sights you see everyday, but scaramouche proved you wrong. there is a better, more amusing sight than seeing the agents cower and gravel at his feet, and what is it? it's him being at your mercy and not the way it usually was.

it was sunset, around 5:30 in the afternoon that you went into scaramouche's office, delivering a few work papers to be signed. standing infront of his door, you lift a hand and knock on the door and stating that you have a few papers to be signed with you, you wait but after 10 minutes there was no answer, you try again and wait for a few minutes. getting ticked off, you open the door.

eyebrows knitted together as you try to process quickly what the image blessed your eyes as soon as you entered his office. oh tsaritsa, his legs were thrown on each sides of the arm rest to help him keep his legs open, the part of his shirt that's shoved in his mouth to muffle his moans and whines is soaking wet with saliva, his hands... one has already 4 finger inside of him and the other keeps switching on pinching, pulling and twisting his pretty pink perky nipples— him wanting the feeling of cumming untouched, as he never once touched anywhere near his cock. oh and his cock, it's a vibrant shade of red ready to burst any minute now. trailing my eyes off his cock, off his nipples and into his face. his expression is quite adorable. brows scrunched together in pleasure, usually sharp eyes are glassy with unshed tears as he keeps on biting the hem pf his shirt as he tries to stare straight at me before tilting his head back.

his fingers move faster inside of him, and his other hand is lightly flicking his nipples, his legs trying to close but can't and after a few more minutes, he shakes as overwhelming pleasure flood him, but as soon as his cock spurt out a string of white, he immediately pulled his fingers out of him and grip the arm rests, as he ruins his own orgasm. coming down from the high, he removes the cloth from his mouth as he pants and lifts his legs of from the arm rests and looks up at me "this is quite amusing, mr. balladeer," i began as i walked towards him, dropping the papers i have been holding on top of the table before moving again and stopping once i was beside his chair, leaning on his table. "well i'm sorry but i am no clown to keep amusing you so leave," he stated after a few seconds as the fog in his brain clears up "you don't need to be a clown, you just need to be a slut sir," i counter as i pulled him up and pressed him against my chest, using my other hand to slide down his ass and give it a squeeze and a harsh slap, making scaramouche yelp and clutch onto my shirt "stop whatever the fuck you're doing right now!," scaramouche yelled as he glared and squirmed in my embrace making me tighten my arm around him, push a knee between his legs to keep the open and insert two fingers inside his slick filled hole "shit," grabbing the biceps of the hand that was fingering him he dug his fingers onto the skin.

paying no mind to everything scaramouche did, i just continued fingering the male and and a finger when he loosens up until i reached four fingers inside him, with him still cursing me out as pleasure fogged his mind again, tilting my head to the side i began to explore his inside and after a few tries i heard the male muffle a loud moan, clench around my fingers tightly and dig his fingers deeper into my biceps, smirking i continued my assault on his prostate until he became a quivering mess in my arms, but before he can orgasm i pulled out my fingers. "mr. balladeer, i need the papers as soon as possible alongside the other papers i gave days before. thank you for the time sir," i said and bid him goodbye as i left the room before i lost more control of myself

meanwhile

scaramouche fell onto the table as his knees went weak and hole clenched around nothing, whimpering at the lost feeling from both the fingers that just assaulted his sensitive spot and the familiar warm knot in his stomach. biting his lower lip, he sat down again on his chair, panting. head still muddled by the disappearing pleasure he began to imagine how your fingers moved inside him, how they reached farther than he can, how quickly he almost came at your touch as he touched his throbbing cock, and after a while he came a second time that day with a (bigger) load of cum

-♋

B e a u t i f u l 😫👏👏👏

[aetheve]

HI… my fav chr. Is malleus/idia or social rejects ykyk⁉️ my fav teachers r that pe teacher with a butt chin ⁉️ very funny and I’m biased since I love pe. And crowley bc he’s funny and reminds me of my dad

MY RICE PURITY TEST IS 87… anyways my appealing shit is. Well rounded⁉️ I adapt and learn easily, I’m pretty with pretty clothes and I’m good at anything I try to put effort into 💪💪⁉️ I’m a very. Yeah yk what kinda texter I am LFMAOSO..

def and extrovert, cat lover b allergic 😭😭 personally it’s a tie and my fav song. Is choke⁉️ by idk how but they found me and uh uh I lead most the time and you already know most abt me‼️‼️ okay am I ur first matchup pls say yes

—- 🪞 WELCOME TO POMEFIORE! a dorm based on the fairest queen's spirit of tenacity. twisted from snow white and the seven dwarfs.

vil tries to get you to follow his suggested face routine and you don’t listen, purely out of spite. you give him migraines at the fact you stay up very late to party with scarabia, but no one can stop you. “you’re a bad influence for epel.” - vil 24/7.

at some point vil got you a leash. he’d prefer if you four would walk into the school like the single ladies from beyoncé’s ‘single ladies’ but you keep running off to try and jumpscare lilia.

you started an unspoken rivalry between vil and riddle, to elaborate riddle often pounds on the door of pomefiore yelling “GET THEM UNDER CONTROL, YOU PLASTIC EXCUSE OF A HOUSE WARDEN!” to which vil almost goes on an rampage.

your bestfriends are cater and lilia! majority of the time you three are cyber bullying someone that ticks you off irl or beating the living shit out of a savanaclaw clown. riddle absolutely despises you three and malleus.. well the old man just doesn’t get it.

“why did i agree to this?” idia mumbled, into his phone while you and epel followed the last few of his instructions.

“and done! mirror mirror on the wall, whose the the fairest of them all?" you asked the mirror with the most mocking impression of vil you could do.

"my lady's beauty is fair and true, but nine is far fairer than you." escaped the fake screen you put in the frame. you were to prank vil with this, surely it'd give him a scare.

"but if vil asks"

"then you weren't involved! okay? thank you for your help, good day!" epel cut him off and hung up, "do you think he'll fall for it?"

you shrugged from your hiding place, peeking through the hole. "vil has anger issues not let that pimpleless face fool you. he'll be too blinded by anger to realize anything is off."

"okay, tell me what happens." epel whispered as the door opened, revealing the house warden himself. there was silence for a long while, a couple of curses from vil when he messes up his makeup in the slightest.

"hm," he hummed when his look was complete. "mirror mirror on the wall, whose the fairest of them all?" you shook epel's shoulders in excitement to see that over confident smirk be wiped off of his face.

"my lady's beauty is fair and true, but nine is far fairer than you." the mirror repeated. there was no sound from any one, you could hear a pin drop.

"p-pardon?" now you were trying not to let out any sound, but the look on his face the replaced the confidence was horrifying.

"you will not believe what this bitch wrote on the whiteboard. that savanaclaw fuck." you shook your head distastefully, showing your friends two images. one of the kid that had the audacity and a picture with words of mockery the history black board.

"oh, what a bummer." lilia sighed pushing a series of buttons on his phone.

"isn't that the cat we received a lot of dirt on last week?" cater laughed, looking through his phone as well.

"mhmm... just to clarify we're gonna embarrass him out of existence, correct?" you sat down in front of your friends.

"it's what we do best..." lilia nodded towards your phone, seconds before the notifications went crazy.

"oh?" you laughed reading through the thread of embarrassing shit about him, not just from your friends. to explain further, you three were well known for scaring the life out of people online, no one really knew of your irl identities but that didn't matter. those that knew, knew and use that knowledge to their advantage.

"oh, would you look at that? nine, i found his number!" cater sang, excitedly, sending him a not so delightful message.

dorm assignments!

[fallen-gravity]

Intellectual Adequacy

Stan hates to start any unnecessary conflict, especially when there’s a very real chance that Ford will be moving to California next year, but he knows deep down that if they don’t talk about this now then he’ll never have the courage to bring it up again.

“Wait,” Stan shouts to Ford, and he stops dead in his tracks.

~~

Notes: In which one little plot bunny that was preventing me from getting any work done becomes its own rabbit hole.

I genuinely cannot believe that in the six-seven years I've been in this fandom, I've never tried my hand at the fix-it-fic where Stan and Ford just talk it out as teenagers, just like they should've in canon. I've seen a lot of different approaches, but I feel like I've yet to see one that tackles it from the perspective of Stan's own battle with his self-worth, rather than the actions he or Ford have already taken.

AO3

Stan hates the principal’s office more than anywhere else in the world.

He swears, he’s called down every other week for something that’s not even his fault. He punched Crampelter in the nose for harassing some poor freshman? Principal’s office. He talks back to a teacher calling his classmate stupid for forgetting an “obvious” geometry equation? Principal’s office. He accidentally drops his pencil during an exam and bends over to pick it up? He must be cheating. Principal’s office.

If you asked him, the whole idea of sending kids to the principal’s office is pointless to begin with. Oh, you did something bad, and now we’re gonna make the big man in charge tell your mommy and daddy? How old do these people think they are?

Stan wishes he could say that this time is okay because they’re not even talking to him. They’re talking up a storm to Ford in there about another college scholarship and all the reasons why he and he alone would be the perfect candidate for some random school all the way out in California

But it’s not okay, because the longer Stan sits in the dumb waiting room the more he’s starting to feel like chopped liver. They’ve been in there for at least five minutes with no sign of stopping anytime soon, but every time Stan asks the secretary if he can just go back to class already she dismisses him with a wave of her hand and it’ll be your turn soon, sit back down.

He’s thinking of just sneaking out the next time the secretary buries her nose back into her magazine. It’s simple: just wait for her to pull it out from her desk, sneak by as quick as he can, and slip out the door and back to class before she can even notice he’s gone.

He stands from his chair, pretending to stretch and preparing to execute, but freezes solid when he hears his name being spoken from within the principal’s office.

“…What about our little free spirit Stanley?”

It’s Ma, and whatever it is they’re talking about in there, she isn’t happy about it. Frowning, Stan glances over at the secretary to make sure that she isn’t staring at him, and presses his ear to the office door to listen to their conversation more carefully.

The principal laughs in response. “That clown? At this rate he’ll be lucky if he graduates high school”

Stan’s taken aback by the harsh choice of words, but if he knows Ford, then he won’t just sit there and let the principal talk about him like that. He presses his ear further into the door, waiting for Ford to interrupt the principal’s rambling about how he’s never going to amount to anything with you just don’t know him like I do, or something along those lines, but it never comes.

Not a single interjection that…anything he’s saying is wrong. Not from Pa, not from Ford….and not even from Ma.

They don’t…all really believe that, right?

There has to be something else he’s missing. He bets they’re defending his honor right now, and the reason they’re not making a big scene about it is because they’re in public.

Yeah.

He’s got nothing to worry about.

He peeks into the window, expecting to see Ma glaring daggers into the principal, or Ford silently cursing him out behind his back, but what he’s met with is so much worse. Ma and Pa are exchanging warm smiles, and Ford is frantically shaking hands with the principal, beaming brighter than Stan’s ever seen in his entire life.

Matter of fact, Stan’s not sure he’s ever seen any of them look so happy in his entire life.

He’s worthless, he’ll never go anywhere, and they’re all smiling about it.

Stan’s heart drops to his stomach, and he slides to the floor to join it.

Is this some kind of cruel joke? Were they expecting him to listen in on their conversation? Is this their cruel workaround of telling him he’ll never amount to shit?

He sighs.

He stays there on the cold tiled floor for what feels like hours, contemplating all the times he’s been called dumb, or stupid, or a terrible influence on his brother. All of those times when he could brush it off just because it was coming from someone he didn’t care about.

But worthless?

Behind his back, spoken directly to people he loves, and they won’t even bother to defend him?

That one’s new, and if Stan is going to be completely honest with himself, it’s much harder to brush off his shoulders than all those other times.

Stan doesn’t even notice the office door opening until it nearly smacks him in the back of his head. He quickly jumps to his feet and brushes himself off, pretending the best that he can that he wasn’t just eavesdropping on them for the past ten minutes.

“Stanley!” Ford comes bursting out of the room, his grin threatening to split his face in two. “I just received the most incredible news! The admissions team at West Coast Tech heard about my science fair project, and-”

The beam suddenly slips from his face, replaced with some sort of mix of confusion and concern. “Is...Something wrong?”

Stan rubs at his eyes to make sure he hadn’t started tearing up without realizing it, but no, his eyes are bone dry.

Curse Ford’s stupid ability to read his mind.

Stan covers up the gesture of rubbing at his eyes with a yawn, and stretches his arms in the air. “Nothing except you taking forever in there” he flashes a fake smile easily. “Talk about a blabbermouth, am I right?” Stan gestures towards the principal with his thumb.

Ford laughs, and returns his gaze to the pamphlet in his hands. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t think he’s so bad”

Stan opens his mouth to quip back, but Ford doesn’t seem to be paying much attention anymore. He’s just staring at that dumb pamphlet, his grin slowly but surely returning to his face again.

Instead, Stan shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs, turning his gaze to the floor. “Yeah, I guess you’re right”

~~~

Stan feels like he’s in a haze for the rest of the day. Even when he tries to focus on class to take his mind off of things and redirect it on anything else, he can’t get his mind to stick.  Not even final period gym class can save him, which is really saying something, because the gymnasium is usually the one place where he thrives.

Worthless.

The word won’t stop bouncing around in his skull, hitting him where he’s most sensitive.

It doesn’t help a thing that Ford is dead silent on their walk home from school. He’s usually chatting up a storm to Stan about stuff he doesn’t really understand, and under normal circumstances Stan can’t wait to get home so he can bury his head in his pillow and drown out the sound of Ford’s babbling.

But today he’s not even looking in Stan’s direction, just burying his nose in the West Coast Tech brochure with stars in his eyes, and now Stan wants nothing more than to hear Ford babbling on about his advanced physics classes.

It’s almost insulting.

Stan sighs, and lightly taps on Ford’s shoulder to catch his attention. “Can we talk?”

“Hmm?” Ford blinks, like he needs a few moments to readjust to reality. “Oh! Of course. I was actually planning on asking you the same thing” he places the brochure in his pocket. “Same place as always?”

Stan nods. “Same place as always”.

It’s a quick change of direction and a shortcut to the beach before they find themselves on their old swing set. By now they’re both too heavy to use it properly without a risk of snapping it, but they still find it’s a good place to go when they just need to get away and talk.

“You’re not really thinking of going to that stuffy old school, are you?” Stan asks as soon as Ford sits on the swing beside him. “They’ve gotta be crazy if they think four more years of essays and exams are better lookin’ than tanned babes and gold chains. We’re so close to finishing up the Stan-O-War. Soon as graduation rolls around we’re outta here, just like we always promised”.

Ford chuckles. “That is a nice thought, but…” he pulls the brochure out of his pocket again, and unfolds it for Stan to see. “You have to understand that I can’t just pass up an opportunity like this. Maybe I don’t need a degree from any old state school, but this is West Coast Tech we’re talking about!” he beams, the stars returning to his eyes. “They’ve got cutting edge technology and multidimensional paradigm theory”

Stan rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but admit to himself it’s nice to have his brother back again after an entire day of radio silence.

“Beep boop, giant nerd robot oncoming” Stan punches Ford in the arm.

Ford’s grin only widens. “I figured you’d say that, but it’s too late to change my mind. The head of admissions already flew in this morning, and with my go-ahead they’re going to check out my science fair project later tonight and let me know then and there if they want me at their school”

“Well that seems kind of harsh” Stan quips. “What if they say no?”

Ford shrugs. “Well, then it’s like you said. If they don’t want me, you and I sail off on the Stan-O War and never look back”.

Stan frowns at the strong emphasis on if. He really thinks he’s going to get this, doesn’t he? Stan can’t exactly blame him when he’s been the reigning valedictorian of their class every year since they were kids.

“And if they say yes?”

Ford grins. “Well, then you better visit me on the other side of the country” he punches Stan in the shoulder, and stands to his feet without saying another word.

Stan can’t bring himself to join him. He knows that Ford didn’t mean anything by it, but he can’t help feel wounded by his brother’s implication that while he’s off in California having the time of his life, Stan’s still gonna be stuck living with their parents in New Jersey.

It’s just like their principal said. He’ll never amount to anything anyway, so why wouldn’t he stay in New Jersey? Where else would a worthless piece of shit like him end up?

Stan shifts on his swing and watches as Ford walks away, and he can’t help but wonder just how much of the principal’s tangent that Ford believed.

All of it?

Some of it?

Had Ford even been listening to what he said at all?

As he continues to watch his brother walk away, he can’t help the feeling in his gut that he has to know. He hates to start any unnecessary conflict, especially when there’s a very real chance that Ford will be moving to California next year, but Stan knows deep down that if they don’t talk about this now then he’ll never have the courage to bring it up again.

“Wait,” Stan shouts to Ford, and he stops dead in his tracks.

“Yeah?” Ford says, turning around to face him. Stan suddenly finds himself very aware of his heart loudly pounding against his chest, but he forces himself to squash that down. He’s never felt shy or anxious about asking his brother anything, and he sure as hell isn’t letting that start now.

“You don’t…uh,” he swallows. “You don’t think I’m…worthless, do you?”

Ford looks appalled. He neatly folds the brochure back into his pocket and starts walking- no, jogging, almost sprinting back to the swing set. He pauses in front of the empty swing beside Stan for a moment, like he’s debating whether he should sit down or not, but eventually he shakes his head and sits down anyway.

“What on earth makes you say that?”  There’s a hint of anger to his tone, but Stan’s not entirely convinced it’s directed at him. “Why would I think you’re worthless? You’re my twin brother! What could’ve possibly put the idea in your head that I thought that?”

There’s a tiny voice in the back of his head screaming at him to back out, brush it off with a joke and have this conversation later, but there’s an even louder voice shouting at him that it needs to be had now.

Stan sighs. “I…overheard everything in the principal’s office today”

Ford blinks, like he doesn’t understand a word that Stan just said. “About…West Coast Tech? Is this because you’re afraid that I’ll get in, but you know you won’t because you’re not even interested in applying anyway, but you know you’re going to miss me, and you’re not sure if you can handle-”

“About me, Sixer!” Stan shouts, and tries his damn hardest to ignore the waver in his voice. “He practically called me a useless piece of shit directly to Ma and Pa and neither of them said a word about it!” He scrubs his hands down his face because he’s not choking up, not over something so pointless and stupid. “You’re going to travel the world and become the smartest person the scientific community has ever seen, or whatever, but me? Apparently I’ll always be stuck here in New Jersey to pick up after everyone else’s messes, because that’s all I’m ever good for”

Stan buries his face in his hands. He hadn’t meant to blow up, and he certainly hadn’t meant to direct his anger at Ford, but he just feels so hopeless, and he’s the only one around who’s willing to listen. He wouldn’t be surprised if Ford returned with anger of his own, or told him off for being selfish, or even if he just decided to stand up and walk away from him for being such an embarrassment.

The silence that follows is thick and heavy. Stan is so convinced that he must’ve driven Ford away that when he feels a hand on his shoulder he nearly jumps a mile out of his skin. When he finally pulls his hands out of his face to meet Ford’s eyes, his face is flushed pink and he looks…embarrassed.

“Stan, I had no idea, I…” he awkwardly pulls his hand away and grips tightly to the chain of his swing. Stan can see Ford’s face shifting through about a dozen different emotions at once. “I…must’ve been too focused on everything else to realize he was saying those things about you.” He shakes his head. “I know it’s not an excuse, but…” he sighs. “I’m sorry”

There’s another bout of silence between them. Stan’s half-expecting that to be the end of it, and for Ford to walk away without another word.  

But Ford breaks the silence with a sigh, and when Stan glances over at him he’s staring down at the ground.

“If it’s any consolation...you’re much smarter than me in a lot more places than you realize”

Okay, now Stan has to laugh. “Okay, now you’re being too nice to me. You don’t need to lie to make me feel better”

“I’m serious!” Ford’s cheeks flush pink again, and he adjusts his glasses before returning his gaze towards Stan. “There’s actually been a fascinating number of studies about intelligence lately, and, well…” Ford’s face is turning redder by the minute, Stan swears. “It turns out that…there’s more than one type”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “You’re losing me here, Sixer”

“Well, you see, I thrive in academic intelligence. Math, science, history, you know, school stuff. That’s the most commonly known type of intelligence because a lot of our formative years are based on it”

Stan doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrow even further.

“But,” Ford continues quickly, “They’ve also made discoveries about the existence of social intelligence”

“Social?” Stan blinks, suddenly finding himself significantly more interested. “You mean like talking to people and stuff?”

Ford nods. “Precisely. They say people with high social intelligence are much better at picking up on social cues, and can make friends with others much easier than those with lower social intelligence.” Ford kicks at the sand. “The reason social intelligence hasn’t been recognized is because it’s often mistaken for having a friendly personality”.  His face flushes pink again, like he’s afraid he said the wrong thing. “Not that a person can’t have both, but…”

Stan smirks, nudging at Ford with his elbow. “Stanford Pines, are you calling your good-for-nothing brother intelligent?” He teases, but can’t help the genuine smile creeping to his face.

“Think about it!” Ford throws an arm into the air, the other one tightly gripped on the swing to prevent himself from falling off. “Every time Ma and Pa leave us in charge of the shop so they can go to Atlantic City for the weekend, who’s the one bringing in all the customers? Who’s the one selling out our daily stock less than two hours after we’re open? You are, Stan, just by being yourself. You know how to persuade people into buying our stock at ten times the listed price.”

“You can’t learn that from twelve years of public school. They can try to teach you, but at the end of the day it’s all about your ability to connect with people” Ford rubs at his arm. “I’ve tried teaching myself those kinds of tricks for years, but at the end of the day…” he shakes his head. “I’ve never been able to catch up.” He smiles. “I raise my white flag to you, Stan. You’ve outsmarted the smartest brother in the world”

Stan chuckles. “Try telling that to Principal Comb-over. He hears you saying the so-called dumbest clown in the entire school system is smarter than you and he’s going to cart you away to the loony bin”

Ford laughs. “You know, now that I think about it, there may actually be a way to tell him off for what he said about you and get away with it scott-free”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? How so?”

Ford smirks. “I think you should try to graduate out of spite”

Stan’s not sure he follows. “Whaddya mean?”

“I mean, think about it” Ford stands from his swing and begins to pace back and forth. “The principal called both of us down even though he only wanted to speak to me, and then he talked shit about you even though he knew you were sitting right outside his door?” he pauses in his pacing. “Stan, he knew that you could hear him. Maybe he didn’t intend for you to listen in when he was talking to Ma and Pa about my scholarship opportunity, but he knew you’d be listening the moment you were brought up in the conversation”

That’s…true. Stan was just about to sneak out before he heard them say his name.

“He’s expecting you to fail, and he wants to put it in everyone else’s head too. He thinks it’s the easy way out, because if you choose to fail out on your own than he doesn’t have to take responsibility for being such a shitty educator. It gives him the chance to say look how he didn’t even try instead of look at how we failed him.”

“But if you proved him wrong? Imagine the look on his face when he has to be the one to place that diploma in your hand. Imagine him having to look you dead in the eyes and tell you he’s proud of you. You’ll know he’s speaking bullshit, but he knows he can’t talk shit about you anymore without making himself look bad.” Ford smirks. “Matter of fact, imagine the looks on the faces of everyone who’s ever doubted you walking across that stage. Pa alone is gonna have a heart attack”

Ford’s smile softens. “I already know that you’re much smarter than you’re given credit for, and I think it’s about time that everyone else recognizes that too”.

Stan’s cheeks burn red, and he shyly kicks at the sand. “Heh, thanks. I appreciate it.” He says. “But even if I did manage to graduate, what am I supposed to do with a high school diploma? Every job application I’ve been skinning through recently says college, college, college”

“Well…” Ford taps at his chin. “Then why not go out for college?”

Okay, now he’s taking things too far.

“Pardon?” Stan mocks, because if Ford thinks that Stan’s going to willingly take four more years of classes than maybe he should be carted away to a loony bin.

“I’m serious!” Ford blushes. “Maybe not a high intensity school like West Coast Tech, but college is so much more freeing than high school, Stanley. It’s not class after class on subjects that other people tell you to take. It’s personalized. If you hate science class so much, you never have to take another science class again”

Ford’s blush darkens. “I know that school is a big drag and all, but if you asked me?” he averts his gaze. “I think you’d really benefit from business school. Charisma and social intelligence is the number one thing that big name businesses are looking for, and I know you’re filled to the brim with both. Ultimately it is your decision, but…” Ford fiddles with his thumbs. “Just…just consider it, okay?”

For a brief moment, Stan just wants to burst out into hysterical laughter. Ford’s been offered the opportunity of a lifetime at one of the best schools in the country, and he’s still taking the time to help out his good-for-nothing brother who’s been cheating off of his exams for the past ten years.

Instead he settles for a roll of his eyes. “Alright, Professor Poindexter, I’ll consider it”

Ford giggles at that, and for a few moments neither of them says anything, watching the waves gently lapping on the beach in the short distance. It’s a comfortable silence, a reassuring sort of feeling that Stan hasn’t felt in a long time.

The frantic beeping of Pa’s wristwatch interrupts them, and both boys flinch at the sound in unison. For a moment Stan is worried that Pa’s standing behind them having heard every word, but when he glances over at Ford, he sees him rolling up his shirt sleeve to reveal that he’s the one wearing the watch, and clicks the alarm off.

“Pa made me borrow it so I wouldn’t be late for the presentation with the school board” he rubs awkwardly at the back of his head. “I’ll probably give it back as soon as I get home tonight”

Stan smirks. “You still hate the sound of that thing too, huh?”

“I can still hear it in my nightmares,” Ford exaggerates, his eyes going wide, and the twins burst into laughter as they both stand from the swings and stretch their arms and legs to wake them up from sitting for so long.

Ford wipes at his eye as he fidgets with the wristwatch. “So…do you think you’re going to be okay?”

That in itself is a pretty loaded question that could take him all night to answer, but all things considering…

“Yeah,” Stan smiles. “I think I’ll be okay”

Ford smiles back, and gestures with his thumb towards the direction of the pawn shop. “Then I’m going to head home and get ready for my presentation. You coming?”

Stan shakes his head. “I think I’ll stay out here and just…watch the ocean for a little while longer”

Ford’s smile softens, but he doesn’t say anything else. He turns heel and walks back towards the house, and it feels as though a giant weight has just been lifted off of Stan’s chest. He glances back to watch Ford go, but finds comfort in the feeling that he feels nothing at all.

~~~

Nearly five hours later, Stan sits at home, watching television on the couch to pass the time. Just out of the corner of his eye he sees Ford slip into the kitchen and gently click the door closed. Stan shuts the TV off, and spins around on the couch to face his brother.

“Well?” Stan asks, though he knows he doesn’t even need to bother asking, given that Ford looks like he’s about to burst. With a shaking hand, Ford reaches into his pocket and pulls out a glinting white envelope.

If he’s trying to keep an air of mystery about it, he’s doing a really bad job, because all at once his composure breaks and the smile that spreads across his face looks as though it could burn out the sun.

“They loved me!” He shouts, excitedly pacing the floor. “They told me they’ve never seen anyone else like me!”

His smile is so contagious that it hurts.

Perhaps another day, in another timeline, Stan would take offense to Ford’s excitement to bounce off to the other end of the country without him. Perhaps he’d even lash out, or do something he would’ve immediately regretted.

But here and now, Stan couldn’t be happier for his brother if he tried.

[alittlebitofinsanitea]

Head-Cannons for Jealous Kageyama, Suga, Iwaizumi, & Bokuto

request: hi! May I request hc's of iwazumi, bokuto, mattsun, suga, and kageyama on how they act when they're jealous? I couldn't find a character limit in your rules so feel free to do however many you like :) Have a good one lovely human <3

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Hi honey! So I didn’t write it but I'm going to be doing four per head-cannon! thank you for requesting! <3 These are gender neutral/no pronouns so I hope that’s ok, hope you enjoy! Also to everyone, requests are open!

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~Kageyama~

✰ you’ve been in class all day and finally the bell rings and its lunch

✰ you and a friend are sitting, talking about homework, eating, as one does during lunch. You normally sit with him because kags always plays volleyball during break, surprised? no.

✰ all sweet Kags wanted to do this lunch was to sit with his baby!!!

✰ he sees you sitting real close to this other guy, and what does his awkward ass do? FUCKING STARES AT YOU, clown to clown communication going on right here

✰ anyone coming into the cafeteria just sees him blocking the path with the smoke whirling around his head

✰ you finally turn around after feeling two burning holes in the back of your head and see him glancing between you and your friend

✰ dummy realizes you noticed him and turns bright red in embarrassment after noticing he has been staring at you for at least half the lunch period and he sprints

✰ this man ZOOOOOMS out of that room

✰ you, being the caring s/o you are, run after him to the best of your abilities, all the way to the vending machine

✰ by the time you get there, he’s already sipping on two milks, pouting, and bright red, poor thing

✰ you make eye contact with him as you sit down, him turning away to face a wall instead

✰ you poke his stomach and sides to get his attention, fully aware of how ticklish he is there

✰ “Y/N PLEASE!” he grits out in between fits of laughter

✰  “Why did you run out then?” you say as you cease your attack, snaking your arms around his waist

✰ his body relaxes into yours and returns the hug, he buries his face into the top of your head as he mumbles

✰ “I know you know I can't hear you,” 

✰ he grunts back in response and mumbles again, just loud enough that you can hear that one, specific, word

✰ “YOU WERE JEALOUS!!!!!!” you scream so loud he jumps back a little

✰ he burrows his head into your neck in an attempt to hide from you, not the best play he could have made, but there was an attempt, he tried

✰ you move one hand to pat his head and the other stays on his back, “Kags, I don’t know why you would be jealous, I’m just friends with (Friends/N), I don’t like him like that, ok?”

✰ he straightens up and looks at you dead in the eyes, to anyone else he looks normal, but there's a little smile on his face that looks a little less creepier than usual

✰ he grabs you tight and you can hear the bell in the background, but you both ignore it and stay like that for a little longer

~Suga~

✰ everyone pretends that this man is the chillest, sweetest, calmest character in this show

✰ hell no

✰ he has as much crackhead energy radiating through his body as is possible without being a crackhead

✰ the two of you are at one of karasuno's practice matches against nekoma, and they have been trying that play with nishinoya as setter, and a few other ideas the coach came up with

✰ during a break between on of the games (which to your displeasure, have gone on forever, but you love seeing Suga play so you don't really mind) you decide to pull out your chemistry homework

✰ “why, and who made chemistry,” you say to yourself “I just want to have a little talk.”

✰ “Well I wouldn’t say a specific person invented it, but Robert Boyle is considered the first modern chemist,” you look to your left and see a tall nekoma player with bed hair

✰ you arch a brow, and get back to ‘working’, if you could call it that

✰ he sits next to you and offers a smirk and says, “Im Kuroo Tetsuro, if you want I can help with your homework if you want,”

✰ your nose scrunches up and you turn away from him

✰ “Don’t be sodium chloride,” he says as he scoots a little closer, but as he does that, you can feel the other side of you warm a little

✰ in the corner of your eye before you look to see what sat next to you, you see Suga, his eyes glaring straight at the rooster boy

✰ he drapes his arms on your shoulders and sets his head on yours and looks directly as kuroo, cold as ice, he tells him “She is fine, I can help her,” 

✰ the smile on his face does nothing to hide the fact that he’s not messing around 

✰ you pull him off of you to face him, giving him a little shove before telling him off,

✰ “I had it covered, it’s not like I was going to say yes, even though I probably need the help…”

✰ he raises his eyebrows at you, “I can help you, no problem!” he says sweetly, as if you both aren’t getting the same grades

✰ the next game is starting, signaled by the freak already on the court in their positions and the whistle blowing you give Suga a kiss on the cheek and tell him to go

✰ he smirks at you, and from then on in the match, whenever he spiked a ball, set a good toss, or dug anything, he looked to kuroo and directly pointed to where you sat

~Hajime Iwaizumi, (27), Athletic trainer~

✰ I don't even know what to do for this dude, no wait haha jk

✰ Iwaizumi, Oikawa, and you have been best friends for forever

✰ you guys are so close, sleepovers since you were little, you even made them an entire meal and movie night on the day they lost, lots of wet tissues and tear soaked blankets

✰ when you and Iwaizumi finally got together after year of pining after each other, nobody was more excited than Oikawa, nobody 

✰ now, you three are having a sleepover to celebrate being done with midterms and you made a big pillow fort to watch your favorite movie in, with popcorn and chocolate and all of that

 ✰ it's dark except for the light from computer screen, you can barely make out the faces to your right and left, and it's so late, you forgot who was on which side

✰ it's hard for you to fall asleep without Iwa anymore, so you grab the arm to your left and lift it up and snuggle into the warmth of who you thought was your boyfriend

✰ because you all are so close, Oikawa didn’t think twice about wrapping his arms around you, forgetting that Iwa was even there

✰ your boyfriend started to get red in the face, “Oikawa,” he warned, trying to make his best friend back off without making a scene

✰ Oikawa looks to him confused, “Chill out Iwa-chan! I know it's not godzilla but it's not that bad”

✰ Iwaizumi would have left it at that, but when you turned around and hooked your leg onto your current human pillow? Ohohoho, its over

✰ he grabs your waist and throws you over his shoulder, wrecking the little tent you made and leaving the third wheel of the trio in the rubble

✰ you cry out in protest, upset that your hours of work are now suffocating your other best friend

✰ you feel every step and he takes as he walks you both towards your room the air is tense, and you don’t know what to do

✰ you enter your bedroom, still being carried by him, and he drops you on the bed, and falls on top of you, letting out a noise of comfort as you squirm

✰ “Hajime please get of you’re squishing meee!” you wheeze out the last part

✰ he doesn’t verbally acknowledge you but he adjusts himself so you both are comfortable

✰ “Is this ok?” he asks quietly

✰ “yeah,” you reply, “It is.” 

✰ Neither of you seem to notice oikawa taking photos, and the next day, oikawa shows iwa, but not without a volleyball to the head 

✰ neither you nor oikawa know that's his screen on his phone

~Bokuto~

✰ When does this boy not get jealous, not because of you no! He trusts you with anything and everything, and he loves showing you off

✰ that is until all the attention goes to you and he thinks everyone is going to take you away, especially when he goes emo mode, he’s about ready to give you up to anyone :( but you never go obviously

✰ akaashi managed to convince you to become manager, he said that it would come in handy when he started to become self destructive

✰ and it worked! You were able to save a lot of games and akaashi’s mental health, for a while that is

✰ today was the first day of spring high finals, teams everywhere, balls flying, and Bokuto was anxious, and it was showing

✰ as the team walks to the court, you grab Bokuto's hand and you grab it tight letting him know you are there for him

✰ he began to feel less tense and calmed down once again 

✰ the game started and it was going smoothly, the other team wasn't able to shut down any Fukurōdani’s attacks

✰ that is until, the other team's captain started flirting with you

✰ whenever he makes a point, he would say some gross ass pick up line, or wink at you, and even worse, he would make sure to meet eyes with Bokuto, every, single, time

✰ Bokuto’s shots have gotten worse, he's hitting into the blockers, the net, and even missing the ball completely

✰ it physically hurts you when this happens to your boyfriend, and at this point you are sick of it, and have started to grow annoyed at the creepily corny capitan 

✰ you whisper to the coach to call Bokuto in who is currently hanging onto akaashi, asking him not to set to him anymore

✰ the coach calls a time out, and signals the rest of the team to stay on the court, Bokuto doesn’t even notice the rest of his teammates standing still around him

✰ when he reaches the bench you grab him by the shoulders and look him in the eyes and say “Baby, kick his ass.”

✰ you move your head to face the other captain and smile, then you grab Bokuto's face and kiss him, hard

✰ the time out ends and your team is flushed with embarrassment, but Bokuto was hyped up jumping all over the court, and ready to destroy the other team

✰ (they won the rest of the set no points lost)

[shyflameweasel]

The Circus is in Town

This takes from both this and this. Read with caution as there is blood in this.

It’s been few weeks since...the Thing in the alleyway. Maybe a month if you had to guess? You still have no clue what it even was. Curiosity lays at the edges of your mind, poking and prodding to look deeper into the mystery. Shaking your head to dislodge the stray thoughts, you don’t give them a chance to take root. Since that night you haven’t gone out at much as you used to, either by day or by night. Dark places and hideaways were avoided like the plague. (Sometimes you dreamed of floating hands shooting from the darkness to drag you back towards that nightmare.)

You had security system installed. Along with carrying both a knife and taser. A firearm seemed like too much. You’d briefly considered pepper spray but you’re not sure if it would even work without-

Shuddering, that thought’s pushed away (with all the others). You so wanted to believe that it was just your imagination. But with that photo- that damnable photo that you got so close to deleting but couldn’t go through with. Bringing certainty and dread that that night was real. 

So so often you wanted to throw that phone against the wall. Or just factory reset it to stop it from feeling like a brand whenever you held it. Often why you absentmindedly grab the phone for something, you’ll see or feel the crack and everything come rushing back.

Somewhere in your mind, a little voice in your head thinks that you were blowing things out of proportion. Another told it to shut it; isn’t it better to be safe than sorry?

But today...some friends had managed to convince you to get out of your sudden self-isolation. No one knew the reason why, no one would believe you even with proof. (You struggled to believe yourself.) When they said that you’d all be going out of town for a carnival was relaxing. Distance would mean less of a chance of a second encounter and have the benefit of soothing your fraying nerves.

Everything was nice...for awhile.

You don’t fully remember how, but your group had ended up lost. The roads unfamiliar and tensions were rising. Which soon gave way to arguments.

Which lead to a crash. Then darkness.

Fortunately, by some miracle everyone made it out fine with just some scrapes and bruising when you regained consciousness. Unfortunately, the car was in no condition to drive and no one had any idea where you were. The GPS seemed unable to lock onto the location.

Something felt...off. Like it was only the slightest thing off but you didn’t know what so it gnawed at-

Someone spotted a large circus tent in the distance. A tent meant people, people meant help. The group’s spirit rose, all except yours. That feeling was still rolling in your gut. They started towards it, joking around that at least they have some entertainment while waiting for a tow. You hesitated in following, that not-quite-right feeling thick in the back of your throat. It dawned on you why you felt this way.

It was the same feeling as the alley.

You didn’t want to go but what other choice was there? A wrecked car, no other soul for seemingly miles. As much as you hated it, there really wasn’t a choice in the matter.

Checking once twice thrice for your knife taser phone you followed. As you caught up with the rest, you placed your phone where the camera could see everything and hit record.

(Your information was already saved into the phone. On the chance that it was found, someone would know what happened to you.)

That feeling grew as you got closer to the ‘circus’, if you could even call it that. From far away it seemed decent enough but once you got closer details were starting to register. For one, there was only a tent. Nothing of the bright lights or rides that would be at a carnival, even the more shoddy ones had something to bring in a crowd.

Another red flag: dead silence. Not a single person or animal in sight. Not even the sound of insects broke the blanket of noiselessness. You held some slight hope that it was due to being in the middle of a performance in the tent. But if that was the case, wouldn’t there still be cheering form the crowd? Or music playing?

The others seemed to catch on to just how wrong everything felt. Like at the drop of a pin this stalemate would shatter into hell. Hands in pockets, grasping onto your only means of defense. False security blankets against the unknown. Apprehension settled alongside that feeling. Waiting.

Once close enough to the tent you could see that it was falling apart. The material was holey, like someone gave up half-way through with trying to repair it. In its sorry state it was so dirty and faded that it was hard to make out any of the original colors. Worryingly enough there were large dark spots on the fabric. Distance was making it hard to tell what they were but their color means that it wasn’t part of the original pattern.

Someone tried to make a joke about it being too early for Halloween. No one laughed. Another suggested that everyone walked back to the car and call for help instead (where it was safer.) It was shot down by a third saying that the GPS wasn’t working and that there was no reception. That paused the argument.

No reception? As if everyone had the same idea, phones were brought out. How...how didn’t you notice that? Were you so out of it back at the car that you never checked? (One of the voices piped in that it worked before.)

Hesitantly, the option of staying in the car waiting for someone to pass. No one said anything, they didn’t have to. After the crash the car had been flipped upside down away from the road. In addition it was already late afternoon. Whatever the hell was going on here, no one wanted to be in the area after dark.

So with all other options tried and debunked, the only one remaining was going towards the tent and praying for a miracle. What felt like forever but was only a few minutes you get within a few yards of the entrance. The curtain was open. (It wasn’t before.)

(Those splotches you tried to ignore before? Its blood. A lot of blood. One the tent and the ground. Out of the corner of your eye you could see a handprint. Instead of four fingers, there were three. Leading towards the entrance, six thin gorges, almost as if- one of the voices hissed at the other to shut up.)

Don’t think about it. It’ll only make is worse. Glancing at the others told you that while they hadn’t come to the same conclusion they still didn’t trust this place in the slightest. You couldn’t see into the darkness of the tent.

“WELCOME! COME IN COME IN THE SHOW’S ABOUT TO START!” rang from the flap. You flinched as it broke through the dead silence. No one moved. Whatever microphone they were using glitched and echoed their voice. It sounded much worse the second time when it sounded far less happy and far more angry.

‘CLOWN SAID COME IN.” Someone started crying and honestly you would be lying if you didn’t feel like that too. Something told you that you wouldn’t be getting another warning. Looking over, the others seemed to realize it too.

There was no escaping whoever was in the tent. One of the others puffed up their chest in false bravado and took the first step then the second and the third into the darkness. And one by one, everyone followed.

It smelled...stale.

Like despite the amount of holes in the place the air remained stagnant. If you weren’t so worried about the voice, you’d worried about getting sick. But underneath that stagnation there was this horrible smell. You almost retched as your foot collided with something squishy that released more of that foulness. If you make it out alive you’re going straight to a doctor. (You did your best not to think about what you stepped in.)

“STOP” the voice range out. Everyone froze. “CLOWN WELCOMES NEWEST PERFORMERS FOR COMING. IT’LL BE A BLAST FOR GRUNTS OF ALL SHAPES AND SIZES.” Performers? Grunts? What does that-

A light suddenly came on. Someone screamed about eyes. But to you the world went to static. Because standing right there. Was the Thing from the alley. Or at least, it was similar. (Something in you screeched to run and unlike last time, you couldn’t.)

Standing on a raised platform, standing under the beam of spotlight was a Thing. Only this one was wearing a metal mask. (Was the red shooting up from Its head hair or was it a wig? Your shuddering mind deliriously thought.) Stumbling towards the back of the group you belatedly realize what that eyes comment was about. Dozens if not hundreds stared back at you from the darkness.

The mask’s eyes seemed to move into crescent smiles. You felt your mind trying to break itself but you just barely held yourself together. Dots flash before your eyes as breathing becomes difficult.

In a blink (was it a blink or is your mind having trouble). It’s near one of your friends. “FREAKY.” Grabbing their arm with Its hands It looks closer. When they try to jerk away It just grips tighter and they yelp in pain. The others try to push It off them but It just bats them away as easily as swatting a misbehaving pet. “HAD SOME FREAKSHOWS BUT NEVER ONE LIKE THIS.”

(There was no microphone. This violently shaking monster spoke with distortion and echo in its voice.) 

Someone asks what It is. It looks at (towards?) them still holding the arm of your now shaking friend. “CLOWN IS TRICKY!” Finally letting go of your friend (they’re brought to the center of the group, arm starting to bruise.) It-Tricky-clown flourishes its hands (floating floating floating) “WELCOME TO THE CIRCUS~” in a sing song voice.

Before anyone could say anything, could do anything. It had a gun in Its hands. (There were no pockets just dark grey gunmetal green aND WHERE DID IT COME FROM) Pointed the gun towards the group. Fired. Half threw themselves to the ground. Myself and the rest were frozen in shock. There was no bullet...just a little sign with a bang pattern.

It roared with laughter. Like it had just seen the funniest joke in the world. That next moment the room exploded into deafening laughter. The shear volume brought you back to your senses enough to clutch at your ears. Trying to block it all out.

“BRING IN THE HELLCLOWNS!” It side steps a car that half your size, you knew without a fact that it wasn’t before. Skidding around your group before coming to a stop next to the Thing.

The door ope-DEARR GOD THOSE AREN’T CLOWNS!

A scream rips itself from your throat at the sigh. From the car emerges a dozen small flaming...demon Things. They seemed to honk when they moved. One grabs your wrist and does it burn. All but one of your friends are restrained. The remaining fiery devils seem to set something up.

The Thing in charge grabs the unrestrained, dragging towards a wheel the smaller ones made. It’s hard to focus with the pain burning through your wrist. The world blurs.

Thunk thunk thunk squelch

An ear piercing scream breaks through the haze.

Your eyes refocus on the wheel. It was slowly turning. Attached to it was your friend. And to your friend was a knife to their shoulder. The clown was holding knives. (Like the wheel was a dartboard and your friend was the bullseye.)

There must have been some kind of mechanism as whenever the wheel stopped, it would suddenly spin at breakneck speed. It felt like an eternity. Every time the clown hit them, the crowd would cheer.

Luck must have been on your friend’s side. 3 more cycle and a knife caught them through the eye. They were dead. (Someone was crying out of eyesight.)

The next to go went slower. That-that monster had Its minions crush your friend into a small box in some sick parody of a contortionist. Bones cracked and the screaming turned wet. It seemed confused with arms and legs. At least until It torn them off. They bleed out in a broken mess. (More crying, the sounds of retching follows.)

The third was quick but painful. A pie. It threw a pie at their face. Their face melted off and their neck burst open. (The minions pulled the bodies into the darkness. You have an idea of what you stepped in earlier.)

Throughout this your mind is brought back from its haze of pain with each wail of agony. Slowly unraveling you grasp the edges of your mind with scrambling finger tips.

Fourth was quickest. Forced and shot out of a cannon. The minions had set up a net that glints of metal and fire in the stage light. It goes off, force launching them through the net. Confetti and viscera rain from the sky.

(Someone screams why, why are you doing this! It’s reply bleeds through the growing fog. “BORED. A LITTLE VACATION FROM MY JOB. JUST GET TO UNWIND AWAY FROM NEVDA AND HAVE SOME FUN!” What...what was going on in Nevada?)

Fifth is shot with a balloon gun before being mauled to death by balloon animals.

Your mind is slipping through your hands like water. The crowd cheers louder ever louder. (They’re all flaming clowns)

Sixth...you don’t know what happened. It was one of those strong man gigs. Swing a hammer, hit a bell. Only...they didn’t. They swung and hit the monster square in the face. Mask landing with a thud in the deathly silent tent.

You took your chance.

Wrenching your arm out of the slackened hold (a wave of agony and the smell of burnt flesh violently turns your stomach) you shoulder check the other one to grab your last remaining companion. (If the inhuman scream followed by meaty whacks is to go by)

And run.

You keep running before your fraying mind catches up to you. Nothing looks the same as when you went in. (There. Was. No. Sky. Only red, not like a sunset bu- don’t think don’t think don’tthinkdon-)

Seventh is unknown. As you run in the direction that you’re so sure that the car has to be in, you’re jerk back. You were repeating not again over and over (you never know you were mumbling). A fight breaks out, you’re on the ground with their hands around your throat. Screaming that it’s all your fault. Your mind flashes to balloons bursting like guns, flying pies and bloody confetti.

(The voices argue, one crying and pleading for this to stop. The other hissing and snarls at the attack. The edges of the world go dark.)

You hear the horns growing louder.

As quick as you can, you pull the knife from your pocket.

And stab the seventh.

Seventh falls over clutching their gut wound. You run.

You get farther this time before something tackles you to the ground. It’s back and It is enraged.

Now that the mask is off you can see Its head. Similar to the other one in most ways. The head a sickly green. An exposed brain. Sweet smelling rot that’s too much. Half Its face is ripped, exposing teeth and muscles. (It does have hair)

It was dead. But it was still moving.

You didn’t hesitate, you grabbed your taser and slammed it down onto the gray matter as hard you could. (The smell, the sound it makes will haunt you. But you can just add it to the list.)

It stopped moving and you weren’t going to miss this chance. Wooziness took control as you stood up. Only a few steps were taken before consciousness left.

You woke up.

Apparently a car had come down the road and found the wreck. Took you to the closes hospital. Of a group of 8...only 1 was found.

Honestly everything felt like a dream with the painkillers coursing through your veins. Questions were asked that couldn’t be answered. All you could tell them was that the rest were at the circus with a clown named Tricky.

And when you were finally alone...you laughed. Laughed until you cried. Laughed until you hurled. Laughed until you could barely breathe. Until you sobbed. Sobbed for your friends. Sobbed for what you all went through. Sobbed as you had your answer after a month.

As you lay there in laughter filled waves of agony, with your bandaged arm (a handprint) and the hours of video of your friends being tortured and killed you found your answer.

Whatever they were, they brought suffering and madness. Some fractured part of your mind knew that this wouldn’t be your last time seeing them.

[floweryavenue]

Ugh, so, I don't even know if anyone is actually gonna read this, and I'm not really the one who would participate in fandom very actively (I was always a passive observer, liking other's people content), but the stuff with the leaks of the extra 8 pages of snk ending has been really bothering me for the last few days, and I really need to get a few things off my chest.

I really wanted to wait till 9th June to form my full thoughts. However, since basically all pages have leaked anyway and quite a reliable source confirmed there is basically no additional context to them whatsoever, I decided I might as well write this anyway and vent somewhere to clear my head so I can finally move on with my life to focus on other things I like and with other important irl stuff. Moreover, since Tumblr seems like a reasonably safe space to do so (comparing to one hell of a Twitter...) I might as well do it here. So, let's go.

So, basically, my main problem with those pages is simply that... you just don't do that. No. You don't release an ending, make people think it's really the end, then say you're gonna release a few additional pages that won't change anything but simply clarify some things, and then, two months later, release these pages indeed but not only they don't actually clarify anything, but in fact, create even more plot holes. Furthermore, as a cherry on top, they change the ending quite completely. If those pages had been included in the original release, most people, myself included, would've moved on by now. But noooo, make us go through this hell again. Great :))))

And as for the content of those pages, well... I can't help but feel they really did quite a disservice to Mikasa, one of my favourite female characters ever. My biggest problem isn't even that she 'moved on' (whatever that means at this point, coz I feel like fandom has been successfully managing to butcher that term ever since 139 has dropped) and started a family on her own because I'm fully aware that falling in love again after you first love died is an entirely normal thing irl. But ffs, we're not talking about irl here; we're talking about snk and Mikasa. And the thing that MAINLY bothers me, is the way it has been presented.

I'm not going to delve into the husband's possible identities, 1) I'm not interested at all in participating in any ship wars, 2) because we don't even get to see his face and sources say we indeed don't get any direct confirmation in that regard. Not that this matters anyway, because we get presented with Mikasa on the one hand staring her own family, but on the other, still continuing to visit Eren's grave repeatedly throughout her life and in the end, getting buried with a scarf on, her dearest remembrance of Eren, and maybe even getting buried next to him (even tho, the latter is still not 100% confirmed, bcs here sources are contradictory, but judging by the general mood of those pages, I'd not be surprised at all if it turns out to be the case).

That makes me think the whole family-stuff was used only to present the passage of time and the fact that Mikasa never fully got over Eren, bcs we don't see the family in any other context besides the visits to the grave. And that leads me to my other question - was introducing the family really NECESSARY, then? Couldn't Mikasa simply visit the grave with Armin, and maybe even with Armin, Annie and their kids? Idk about you, but that would make 100% more sense to me. Also, don't get me even started, how much in the wrong way it rubs me that Mikasa, the character who, as we know, always deeply cared about others, even strangers (Gabi, etc.), would just drag her husband, her children and grandchildren to the grave of her first love on which she had written 'my most beloved, my dear'? Do I really need to elaborate on how WEIRD that is?

But I guess that's on me for believing a male author would write a satisfactory conclusion to the main female character (not Mikasa touring around Hizuru, not Mikasa playing with kids at the orphanage, no! Forced family plot, instead! Take that!)

As of Eremika, aka my most cherished paring ever since 2014... I guess the only good thing in that mess is that at least it doesn't invalidate them. If anything, it validates them even more, because the stuff I've mentioned earlier prove their love was eternal and Mikasa never truly got over it. So, all in all, I'm gonna still cherish them forever. There are still many unexplored aspects of their bond, so I believe we, as a community, have a big room to explore (pls, I'm begging you, explore with me all the possibilities of their four years in the cottage in the mountains, I swear, that sh!t has so much potential it's unbelievable).

As of Paradis getting destroyed, well, that leaves me bitter, even though after doing some thinking, that really might be the least out of place thing in those pages. At least according to sources, it happens when Mikasa is already dead, so at least Eren's wish of giving his friends long, secure lives came true. However, that would be it.

And as of titan's power still being there and some kid apparently finding the source of it... this just screams 'sequel-baiting', AND I ABSOLUTELY HATE IT. That's it.

To end my definitely too long rambling, I just wanna say, I really would have liked to wait till 9th June to publish my thoughts, but as I've said, those last few days have been driving me crazy and I really wanted just to get all of it off my chest and move on. I want for now to just focus on my irl things, like working on my master's thesis and other stuff giving me joy, like Eurovision next week coming back after 2-years-absence due to pandemic. Eurovision is one of the few things that I love, and I intend on fully enjoying it next week, not sulking on those leaks too much. And if by some completely unexpected miracle I get pleasantly surprised on 9th June (even tho I truly doubt it at this point) - that would be only a win for me, I guess.

Anyway, please remember, all that I have written here is ONLY MY OPINION, and if you disagree with anything, that's valid, you're completely entitled to that. I'm not publishing this to argue with anybody, only to clear my head. That's it.

If anyone has read this too long personal rant of mine - thank you, I'm kissing you on the forehead right now. 

Oh, and remember - EREMIKA IS CANON. And always will be (no, that one is not up for discussion). 

Also, we have that official High School AU, and Eren right now is quietly snoozing on Mikasa's shoulder during another Twilight marathon she made him to take part in, and Armin and Annie are dissing people together on reddit while bonding over their pretentious taste in music. That's canon, Isayama told me after I had phoned him to ask wtf.

PS To think I was almost sure those extra pages will be about Mikasa's reunion with the rest of the alliance... I guess it's time to put that clown make up on. 

[avenging-criminal-bones]

Claustrophobic

Spencer x Reader

Requested?: YES

Word Count: 2264

Warnings: Mentions of unsub, guns, violence, hurt/comfort, panic attack

A/N: SORRY! I kind of got carried away with the prompt from anon

* * * * *

If there was one thing that no one on the team knew about you, it was your extreme claustrophobia. Small spaces, dark corners, the whole nine-yards would set your off in a heartbeat. Especially if you had to share the space with someone else. 

No one knows. Not even Spencer. 

Who you’ve been dating. 

For almost a year. 

It stemmed from your childhood. Your parents had both died in a house fire when you were young, seven, to be exact. So when they were no longer there to take care of you, your uncle took you in and raised you as if you were already a trouble maker. 

There was a closet in your uncle’s house about four feet high and three feet by three feet as the interior. Relatively small. Whenever you needed to be punished of have anything done, you were locked in the closet. Some nights, he would be so wasted or hyped up on weed that he’d forget about you in there, leaving you overnight to fend for your food and bathroom situation. 

For eleven years that was the only form of correction that he’d give you, until you left. You got out of there as soon as you were eighteen. 

Which is why the current case put you in a sort of predicament. You aren’t in any sort of danger, at least not immediately, but the unsub had capture you and Spencer. He locked the both of you in a dark metal box. It must have been an old shipping container, since you’d chased the perpetrator into an abandoned warehouse. 

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was rough. The two of you had been drugged, just now waking up from the chloroform-induced sleep. In passing, you wondered if this was going to react badly with Spencer’s previous, forced-drug abuse. “Are you in here?”

“Y-Yeah. Spence... where-”

“I don’t know.”

You feel him shift beside you, not being able to see him due to the pitch blackness of the storage container. A moment later you feel a presence directly beside you and jump slightly. “Wh-”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. Just my hand. I’m trying to gauge how wide this box is.” His voice sounds much too composed for the current situation. “Judging by the fact that I’m six foot one and my wingspan is about that same length, combined with the unfortunate reality that about three feet of my arms cannot stretch out, I’m going to guess that we are in a three by three foot container. The metallic sounds of my nails hitting the wall,” he drums his fingers a bit to show you, “means that this is a thicker metal, which translates to: no phone service.” He pauses for a second and hears the sound of your whimpering from directly in front of him. “Y/N?”

Your anxieties have been building up since you had come to your senses just a few moments before Spencer. You didn’t want to think about the fact that you were stuck in a small, dark, damp container, much like the closet from your childhood. You didn’t want to think about how you and Spencer had a shared, limited amount of air. You didn’t want to face that reality, but Spencer wouldn’t stop talking. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Spencer grabbed your hand, but you jerked away quickly, hyperventilating as your thoughts raced in your head. 

“I-No. I c-can’t. Spence- I can’t b-breathe. Please. Oh my- I can’t. I can’t.” Your words stutter out and they’re progressively getting more desperate. 

Spencer’s eyes furrow and he shakes his head, not that you could see the confusion written in his body language though in the darkness. 

“Y/N. We’re not running out of oxygen yet,” your breathing still came out in sharp pants, not relaxing by his words. “Judging by the burning alcoholic smell in my nose, and the fact that we woke up about seven minutes ago, lack of oxygen in this container, which has an area of 27 inches times three,” he works through the math in his head for a moment, “won’t be a concern for another 113 minutes.”

“No, no, no...” You whimper to yourself, murmuring no in hopes that your denial can magically open the container. “NO! I c-can’t- It’s not- Spence- it’s small... there’s no- I can’t...”

You interrupt yourself with quiet sobs, willing Spencer to understand what your problem is so you don’t have to try and explain it in your state. 

“Y/N? Are you- is this claustrophobia?” His voice is soft, trailing off at the end. He knows that panic attacks are a consistent sign of things like phobias and mental health disorders, but you’d never given him a reason to associate it to you. 

You nod your head, forgetting that he can’t see you until he repeats your name to try and prompt an answer. 

“Y-yes. I know. It’s dumb- I just... I can’t. Spence- It’s not. I just need- I can’t breathe.”

Spencer lowers his voice to a gentle lull, being careful not to startle you as he talks. “Y/N, I’m going to approach you. I’m going to rest my hand on your face, and I’m going to grab your right hand with my left, okay?”

Again, you nod first before answering him vocally, “Yeah, yes.” 

Spencer’s shoulders droop slightly, hearing the hitching in your voice mixed with the relief that you’ll let him help you. You feel a shift in the container as he switched from sitting to kneeling in front of you. He does exactly what he said he would and slowly, you sense him getting closer to you. After a moment of that, your chest heaves, your brain not allowing you to get a full breath in before it thinks you’re being attacked. His hand rests on your face then and he gently puts pressure on the back of your neck, alternating pressures with each of his fingers individually. 

“Can you feel me?” He asks gently, cooing into your ear in an attempt to calm you down. 

Not having words, you just shake your head. You don’t. You know that it’s there, but right now everything is just too much. There’s too much in your head, too many distractions running through your brain. 

Spencer reaches forward with his other hand and grabs your right hand like he said that he was going to. He places your hand over his heart, leaving his hand there when he did. 

“Y/N, you’re okay. We’re okay. I promise.”

It broke his heart to see you shattering like this. Something that Spencer had admired so, so much in you before you started dating was your fearlessness. Now it seemed like that was being torn away from you.  

Spencer rested his forehead against yours and sighed to himself as he kept his ministrations going on the back of your neck. 

Your breath hitched as you started to calm down. The hand on his chest clutched his once-nice shirt in your hand. It was wrinkled from the vice-like grip, but Spencer wouldn’t have cared. He just wants you to be okay. 

“S-Spencer, I can’t... I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe, I can’t-” Your desperate words devolved into short pants, strangled whines as you doubled over yourself, trying to find something to anchor yourself to.

“Y/N! Hey, hey, hey. Y/N it’s okay. You’re safe. You’re safe, I promise.” Spencer didn’t know what to do. His heart was breaking for you; he hated the way you were shaking so badly, and sobbing so openly. 

You sat there a few minutes with Spencer trying to calm you down. Eventually, your breathing calmed to quiet pants and hitches, and you subconsciously leaned into his hand that was cradling your face. 

You were stilled curled up, still in no position to open your eyes and look around. 

“... ‘m sorry, Spence...” You were exhausted now. There was no way you’d be able to stay awake much longer. 

“Y/N? Why are you apologizing? It’s okay to have fears. It’s okay to have crippling panic attacks. Did you know, at my niece’s birthday party last year she had a clown come?” He pauses for a second, not really expecting you to answer yet. He continues, “ Anyways, I’m deathly afraid of clowns. And this guy popped up behind me to surprise all of the children. Long story short, I had to leave early because I punched the guy in the face.”

For the first time since you two had been captured, you huffed out a short laugh. Breathlessly, you asked, “You punched a birthday clown? Oh my God, Spence.”

Spencer’s shoulders finally dropped, the tension releasing as he saw that you were slowly getting better. “Yeah, it was a catastrophe in itself.”

Reaching over, you grabbed Spencer’s hand off of his chest and held it close to your face. You snuggled up to him, ignoring the fact that he is your co-worker and this is wrong. 

“Spencer?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

You sigh slightly before asking your question. “Is the team going to come for us?”

“Oh, sweetheart... Of course. Yes. They will come for us.” 

Spencer squeezed your hand in an attempt at reassurance. He could tell that your eyelids were drooping and that you were fighting to stay awake after your panic attack. 

“Get some rest, Y/N. I’ll wake you up when you need to be alert, okay?” His voice is soft as he speaks to you. 

Your eyes were finally closing, you hadn’t even responded to his request before you were drifting. 

The sound of gun shots hitting the side of the container wakes you up quickly, jerking you out of your sleeping state. 

“Spencer?!” You exclaim, sitting up fast as you tried to adjust to the darkness to look at your teammate. 

“I’m here, I’m right here.” His hand finds yours again and he subtly tugs your closer to him, trying to keep you out of harms way of a stray bullet. 

More gunshots follow, the sound of them hitting the space around you too loud, causing you to throw your hands over your ears. 

You only pull them away when you feel a hard flinch from beside you. From Spencer. 

“Spencer..? Spence?” You flip around fast, seeing his pained face. 

You can see him. 

You shouldn’t be able to see him. You were in an enclosed space... A box... No windows. 

Except for the inch-wide hole right in front of Spencer. 

The whole from the bullet. 

That was lodged in his arm. 

Spencer’s arm. 

“No... No, no, no. NO!” Without thinking, you press against the wound in his shoulder. Too close to his clavicle. Too close to him. It’s second nature to you, but even so, you whisper sorries to him ever minute for causing him pain. 

Distantly, you notice that the gunfire had died down. The only sounds now were your dry sobs and Spencer’s labored breathing. His pained groans. Because he was shot.

“Spencer, please. Please, please stay with me. Stay with me damn it. Spence!” You can’t even tell what you were saying anymore, you just knew that you were stringing pleas from your lips to your boyfriend. 

His blood was all over your hands, spilling onto the ground. He was shaking as he reached up to grab your arm. 

“Y/N... It’s okay. I’m- It’s fine.” You chose to ignore how he didn’t say that he was fine. “It’s okay. Do you h-hear that? It’s Hotch and JJ. I’m okay.”

Suddenly, you feel even worse about the anxieties from a few hours ago. Compared to this, it seemed even less important and relevant than it had then. 

“I don’t... I don’t-” You break off, covering your mouth to keep in a louder sob. Thinking, you realize that if he wants to think that the help is here, then you need to let him. In the chance that he doesn’t-

NO. You will not think about that. 

“Yeah, Spence. I hear them. They’re rounding the corner now.” 

Your tears fall openly now, with Spencer holding your hand and the dim light from the middle of the day shining through that small hole. That tiny hole that might have decided your boyfriend’s fate. 

Sure enough though, your boss runs into view of the hole and you almost let out a sob of relief. Keeping the pressure on Spencer’s shoulder, you feel him tense beneath you. “Stay awake, Reid. You stay awake. Hear me?”

He nods his head weakly just as Hotch opens the lid. Immediately, you stand up and he helps you up before sending medics in to help Spencer. As soon as you’re out of the confinements, you collapse to the ground, the reality of the situation finally hitting you. 

You knew you’d have to tell the team about your claustrophobia when it was reported in the debrief, but for now, you didn’t have any worries other than Spencer. 

You knew he was going to be okay as soon as you sat in the back of the ambulance with him and he started spewing off facts about the likelihood of a gunshot wound to the left arm below any arteries was to do any serious damage. According to him, the number was low, so you knew that if he slept it off and got the bullet removed in time, he would be just fine. 

Silently, you mouth ‘I love you’ to Reid, him already knowing it was coming. He said it back before falling into a deep, adrenaline-crash sleep, you tucking your head right next to him and doing the same thing, hoping for a better tomorrow. 

[cherrysung]

highway to heaven

pairing: husband!mark x reader

genre: fluff / smut

warnings: unprotected sex (stay safe!), love making, slight marking, oral (f. receiving), grinding, soft sex

prompts: none

summary: with slightly tipsy eyes, and in a sweetness engulfing the night you two share, the love of your life chooses to convey just how big his love actually is for you. unimaginable heights of loving and caring.

requested by anon.

word count: 1.7k

note: me is crying :(, anonnie this was such a wholesome request! I truly hope you enjoy this!

cherrysung’s nagivation

The air smelled like scented candles and red wine, along with a faint tint of light beer. The twilight skies that managed to seep through the small framed windows were painted pink and purple paired with the softest shade of blue, and the bedroom you currently resided in was very dimly lit due to the golden fire that the tiny candles emitted.

Next to you laid your husband. A glass of wine was held nicely in his grip, a grasp you were oftentimes used to see letting things accidentally drop, or break, or ruin, or even burn. Today, it was elegant and relaxed, much like he rested peacefully on the fluffy mattress.

Though his gaze was usually clumsy, today it was also different.

Or so, you thought.

Although your husband’s eyes and hold appeared to be different from the usual, his personality still remained the same. Add in the amount of alcohol he had already consumed—he was absolutely reckless, and a huge clown. A clown you love.

His giggles echoed throughout the entire bedroom as you sat at the edge of the bed, a glass of the burgundy substance also in your hand. There was the biggest grin on his face, pearly whites showing shamelessly as they quite literally resembled ebullience itself. You could only smile to yourself, gently swirling the liquid in your glass before taking another sip. You were surprised he hadn’t spilled his own drink on the white sheets, yet.

“Mark, you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk, I’m Mark!”

You failed to hold in a snort, the sound leaving along with a roll of your eyes, but a loving smile nonetheless.

Amidst both your busy schedules whether it be jobs or visiting your nosy families, the two of you finally found a time where you could spend alone in each other’s embrace. Upon an anniversary that arrived during your break, your lover decided to celebrate one year of being husband and wife, with a thoughtful dinner, and now; this.

It was only meant to be a few drinks, not two bottles of expensive grape wine and four cans of beer. Not only did the two of you have too much to drink, Mark could barely keep up with even the lightest alcohol.

But, he was still conscious. So, it was fine.

A deeper dip on the mattress formed closer to you, followed by a pair of arms that snaked around your waist. “Baby…”

“Yes, Mark?” You giggled at his breath, smelling of sweet grapes.

“I love you.” He whispered simply, but you could hear the sincerity in his short words. His hands rested innocently under your—or much like his—t-shirt, kneading the skin there gently as they ran up and down your sides.

You placed your glass of wine on the coffee table before you, turning around only to be met with sparkling eyes, in which endless care and love swirled chaotically greater than any effects of tipsiness present. His stare immediately landed on your slightly red lips, gaze locking with yours once again in an attempt to wordlessly ask. “You’re my husband now, Mark. You can kiss me whenever you want.”

His pink lips locked with your own, moulding perfectly as he set a sweet pace. You could taste the alcohol on the tip of his tongue as he ran it across your bottom lip, but you could also taste all the love he had to give you. It dawned upon you that Mark absolutely loved you, and it was an understatement to say you were only head over heels for him. The love you two shared was impossibly more than that.

He carried on caressing your sides, body slowly lowering the two of you and swiftly changing positions. Hovering above you with his hands pressed next to your head onto the sheets, admiring the way your hair lightly sprawled around you and the way your eyes shined when they looked at him, he leaned in again. The kiss grew with more ardour by every passing second, conveying more emotions than you could keep up with.

Your arms rose up to touch his torso, one of your hands softly tugging at the little hairs on the back of his neck, eliciting tiny groans and whines that rumbled all the way from his chest. Soon enough his clothed length was grinding against your core, the bulge growing in size every time your heat chased after him.

Mark’s lips pulled away from your own, with a string of saliva still connecting the two of you before trailing down your jawline and to your collarbones, occasionally biting harshly and sucking into the sensitive skin. In record time, multiple spots ranging from purple, red, yellow and blue were adorning your neck like a fresh masterpiece, your husband’s giggles following soon after when he realized how mad you’d be getting at him later on. For now, he’d take advantage of your submissiveness.

“Can I take this off?” He whispered, hips still driving into yours in search of friction as he tugged impatiently at the shirt that still covered you up.

“We’re literally married, stop asking.”

“Even if we’re married I still always want to make sure you’re comfortable, Mrs. Lee.”

Your heart felt like it was melting at his words, bursting with appreciation while doing leaps out of excitement and gratefulness. You allowed him to take off the t-shirt, lips immediately returning to the skin of your tummy and down towards your most protected gift. To save him from asking for permission yet again, you quickly unclasped your bra, and pulled off your shorts along with your lace parties afterwards.

His breath hitched at the heat pooling between your legs, juices adding a beautiful shimmer to your pussy under the soft lights. “You’re so wet.”

“Do something about it.” Pleads escaped you, hands gently pushing his head closer until his lips were pressed directly against your folds.

Sparing you of any teasing, not only because you were impatient but also because he felt the same way, he dived right in, tongue shifting between sucking on your clit or driving into your dripping hole. Your legs were thrashing around at the feeling of his warm, wet muscle, his hands holding your hips down against the bed to restrain you of any movements.

“Mark!” You whimpered, hands gripping his hair before yanking roughly.

“Princess.” He moaned, the vibrations making your legs tremble more.

“Stop, stop,” you stuttered, bringing his face up to yours as you kissed him passionately, “I want you to cum inside of me.”

“I want to make love to you. I want to show you how much I love you.”

A smile formed on your face as Mark returned the gesture ever so slightly. The alcohol had almost all completely worn off, but the hint of the substance still remained on both your tastebuds. “Do it.”

Only now had you realized your lover was still fully clothed, and due to the consumption of two wine bottles, his clumsy fingers were struggling to unbutton his pants. You tenderly helped him out of the fabric, getting him rid of his dress shirt and underwear, cock springing up while precum ran down its veiny length.

You slowly stroked him, his head flying back in bliss at the feeling of your warm hand wrapped around him. Softly, you guided him into your entrance, moans and groans leaving the both of you as he continued to push his dick into your velvety walls, that welcomed him with a tight hug.

“You can move,” you mumbled against his lips, hands cupping his cheeks lovingly while your eyes locked in together.

Suddenly, it felt like your entire world was Mark and only him. The candles, the faint taste of red grapes on your tongue, or the dark night sky were no longer present in your thoughts. Mark thrusted into you at a decent pace; not rough, but also not too slow. His hands roamed all through your body, unable to stay still at a specific location before they felt like they had not paid enough attention to a different part of you. Sometimes, his fingers ran through your hair, or maybe they played with your perked up nipples.

In spite of everything he did, his mouth was always right by your ear while his teeth gently nibbled on your earlobe, whispering sweet nothings and love confessions that had your heart beating faster than normal.

His hips had considerably sped up; regardless, you could understand how much he loved you, connecting the two of you into one piece as he let you in into the deepest of his thoughts and emotions without having to utter out a single word. His actions were enough.

“Mark, I’m getting close.” You whined, arms pulling him flush against your hot body as you kissed at his neck, sucking purple marks into his skin like he had previously done on yours.

“Baby, I love you so much,” he smiled, “I’m so proud to call you my wife, there’s nobody else who I would’ve wanted to take that spot. I love you, you will never understand how much.”

You were unable to answer him back, but he knew you felt the same way too. His length slid through your walls perfectly, like a puzzle piece put together, caressing your insides as the tip of his member kissed at your sweet spot. Your whines got louder, and his groans also heightened in pitch when his climax threatened to arrive.

“Are you going to cum, baby?” He pecked your lips, hand reaching down to rapidly rub at your clit, enough to trigger your release.

“I’m coming!” Incoherent cries spilled from your lips, hips grinding up and down as Mark reached his height, the familiar white substance filling your walls satisfyingly.

He rode the both of you down from your climaxes, eventually coming to a stop as he laid on top of you, chests heaving and searching for breath. He held you in his embrace, where it felt like the world and its threats could not hurt you.

“I love you, too, Mark.” You gave him a short kiss, hugging him with appreciation as he nuzzled his face into your neck. “I love you, but tomorrow, I will beat the heck out of you, for leaving so many hickeys in the most visible places ever!”

“You weren’t complaining while I was making them!”

“Shut up.”

[gohyuck]

pairing: fratboy!lee donghyuck (haechan) x reader

genre: angst/fluff/suggestive (explicit allusions to/mentions of sex)

word count: 4.1k

warnings: fwb relationship, general asshattery on hyuck’s part, explicit mentions of and allusions to sex, slight dom!hyuck

part of a series?: yes, 37.5% viewer ratings, my hyuck bday celebration

🎵 no shame - eric nam

☀️ sex isn’t sex for you without donghyuck

“you’re late.” 

donghyuck’s tone is curt, clipped in a way that has no business within the four walls of a frat house, especially not during a thriving party. he has you cornered, one hand out on the wall beside you while his eyes run over your face. the other has a cup of some concoction dangling between his fingers, idle at his side. there’s a potted money plant on your left and a couple of boozed up party-goers mid-conversation to your right. 

“and you’re evidently very observant.” you respond, tone dripping sarcasm. you’ve been at the Nu Kappa Theta house for less than five minutes and donghyuck - haechan to the campus, hyuck to those who know and love him - already has his lips inches from your own. you can smell the jungle juice on his breath, and it mixes sweetly with the cedar and orange blossom of his cologne. 

it usually takes him at least ten minutes to get here. you consider yourself impressed.  

“no bullshit today.” he murmurs, inching closer. donghyuck moves his hand from the wall, instead choosing to trace along the side of your face before placing his fingertips under your chin. he grabs your face lightly, forcing you gently to look him directly in his eyes. you can’t help but shiver under his gaze. the corner of his mouth quirks up at seeing this, and you realize that donghyuck - a stereotypical class clown if you’ve ever met one - is dead serious. he doesn’t want to play, not tonight. 

you let your cockiness, your proud facade drop as you nod against his hand.

“okay,” you whisper, feeling small for the moment. “yeah, okay.”

donghyuck wastes no time in stepping back from you, his hand dropping to grasp one of yours. as he pulls you through the throng of partiers, he nimbly places his red solo cup on top of a counter, nodding to a nearby brother - jaemin, if you remember correctly - as he does so. you watch the blue-haired boy throw you and donghyuck a wolfish grin, and you can’t help the blush that rises to your face. you wonder what jaemin’s grinning about.

donghyuck doesn’t give you much time to ponder this as he drags you up the house’s main staircase quite swiftly, pulling you into his bedroom before caging you up against his wall. you lean forward, eager to meet his mouth with your own, but he pulls back before you can. the smirk he gives you infuriates you even more. 

“you’re the worst-” you start, only for donghyuck to place his hand against the bottom of your throat, not pressing just yet. he pushes you back, flush against the door, before leaning in, reveling in how your breath audibly hitches once his face is right against yours, dark eyes roving your features. 

“if you were good you wouldn’t say shit like that,” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours. he gives you no time to respond, surging forward and taking your lips for himself as he makes quick work of unbuttoning your jeans. you do the same with his shirt - silk, and far too expensive for a college party that’s likely to end in his clothes getting unidentifiable stains - though you’re far more careful with his clothes than he is with yours. he looks even cockier than before when he removes his mouth from your neck for air, and you’re sure it’s because you already look fucked out for him. he lets out a dry chuckle at how swollen your lips are and how unfocused your gaze is for the moment. 

“i want you to be good for me, and i thought we agreed on no bullshit tonight, hm?”

“yes,” you say, words coming out in a whisper from the depths of your dry, now-scratchy throat. your swallow is audible. 

“yes?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow. your heartbeat stutters as you realize what you’ve forgotten, rushing as you hurry to rectify your mistake.

“yes, donghyuck.” you correct yourself, happy to receive a pleased nod from the man in front of you in response. you aren’t allowed to call him haechan, and you most certainly aren’t allowed to call him hyuck. he offers you no reasoning, and even though it stings you, cuts open your heart just slightly, you never ask.

“on your knees, darling. i’m not drunk enough to deny myself a blowjob, and i promise i’ll get on my knees for you too, but i don’t think you’d enjoy fucking me tonight.”

you blink at him in surprise, and he moves his hand from your neck to cup your face. if you hesitate any longer, you know he’ll yank you onto the floor, forcing you to your knees. you know your safe words, after all, and he’s never pushed or pulled you wrongly. 

still, you need to make sure.

“donghyuck,” you start, and he softens slightly at your tone. you seem genuinely inquisitive, like you’re about to ask him something important instead of questioning him like a brat.

“hmm?”

“you’ve still had some things to drink and i barely had, like, a few sips of soju before you found me. are you- are you sure you want me to suck you off? i don’t want to... i don’t want to take advantage of you. that, and-” you interrupt yourself to glance down, only to glance but up at his eyes. “-you aren’t even hard yet. you said no bullshit, but i don’t think you meant it about sex. what’s wrong?”

“wh-” donghyuck looks almost affronted at your genuine line of questioning, his jaw clenching heavily as he looks at you. “when the fuck do we ever talk? if we aren’t going to do anything, we might as well go back out.” he emphasizes this by dropping his hand from your face, instead reaching to grab the doorknob of the door behind you. on impulse, you grab his wrist.

“we don’t,” you say, swallowing after you admit it. “we don’t ever talk and i- it’s obviously bothering you, whatever it is, and i think we need to talk it out. i’m not sucking your dick until we do.”

the pause after your words is... stifling, to say the least. you stare at him, searching his eyes for something, anything. he remains unreadable.

donghyuck’s shoulders stiffen for an imperceptible moment before relaxing entirely, and when he gently pushes you aside, you allow him to. you watch as he pulls the door open regardless, only letting his eyes find yours after.

“get out,” he says, voice surprisingly steady. “get out of my room, and it might be best if you just get out of the house.”

“donghyuck-”

“i’m serious.” he grits out, not meeting your eyes. the difference between the sultry, flirty donghyuck you’d had moments ago and the angry one in front of you now does not escape you. still, for the sake of the tears that are budding along your waterline, you clench you’re teeth together, not willing to let him have the last word.

“you have no fucking shame,” you manage to get out, glaring directly at him as you do. “you can fuck me but you can’t talk to me, huh? i’m just some whore for you to use and throw as you like? you don’t even let me call you fucking nicknames, and you think you have the right to be pissed at me for not doing you while you’re drunk? for caring about you? you make me fucking sick.” you spit out and storm out, not giving him the chance to react nor giving him a second glance, no matter how badly you want to hand him both.

as you rush down the stairs, not bothering to interact with anyone despite the ‘hey, (name)!’s and the ‘woah, slow down’s that you get, you can’t help but tell yourself that you’re done for good, this time. you’re doing sleeping around with donghyuck in the way you should’ve been done months ago. no amount of dick is good enough to keep around when the person attached to it keeps hurting you over, and over, and over. you’ve been mad at him before, but you usually let him fuck you roughly against a wall, bent over his desk, to get both yours and his frustrations out. 

still, even then and during all those times, you’ve known it. you’ve known that you’re falling for him, and you’ve known that it isn’t reciprocated. tonight’s made it glaringly obvious that he only sees you as holes to fill, and you absolutely refuse to be an object, no matter how much it hurts to leave. 

it’s only once you’re out of the NKT house that you realize your pants are still unbuttoned. the rage and embarrassment that engulf you as you tuck your shirt in properly and zip your jeans back up both have you pulling your phone out, typing, and hitting send before you even know what you’re doing.

the walk back to your place feels awful, but you hold your shoulders high. it isn’t a walk of shame, it’s a walk of relief.

at least, that’s what you tell your roommate, who inevitably questions you after seeing you walk in, slam the door shut, collapse on the couch, and whine for a bottle of straight vodka.

across campus, donghyuck is sitting on his bed, head in his hands, as he tries to tune out his thoughts by focusing on the pounding music he can still hear through his shut door. his phone lies face up and unlocked beside him, though the text that’s lighting up the screen is the very thing he’s doing is damnedest not to look at.

from (name) 😉: it’s over.

♕ ♕ ♕

you manage to go a full week without thinking about him.

it’s genuinely easier than you expect - he isn’t in any of your classes, and you don’t have any truly close friends in common, so you find that you don’t have any reason to see him. sure, you aren’t too thrilled about going from getting laid thrice a week to getting laid exactly 0 times in 7 days, but you'll be damned if you let good dick distract from how poorly you’d been treated by donghyuck. 

and god, is it some insanely good dick. 

still, you’re determined not to let it get to you, and for a short while, things work out in your favor. you’re busy with organization meetings, volunteering projects, classwork, and spending time with your friends. 

disaster strikes for the first time during an organic chemistry study group meeting on day 8. 

“(name)? (name)- earth to (name)? hello?”

“huh? wh- yes,” you blink rapidly, pulling yourself back into reality. something’s in your mouth - you realize belatedly that you’re chewing on the already-crushed end of your pen. the daydream you’d been having floods back to you, forcing heat to rise into your cheeks as your friends stare on, mild concern and confusion scrawled across all of their faces. 

it’s always been his hands. his fingers, his palms, the way he cups your cheek and the way he kneads at your thighs while they shake around his head. in the world inside your head, you’d practically been able to feel his fingers tracing your skin, hovering over where you needed him the most, giving you exactly what you’d needed. 

you might not see his face in your daydreams, but donghyuck’s hands will never be disembodied for you. they carry the weight of his words, the curve of his signature smirk, the sharp edges of his teeth sinking into the meat of your shoulder. you shake your head, forcing yourself out of your reverie. 

your friends are still staring at you. at seeing just how flushed and disoriented you are, you practically see realization dawn simultaneously on each of them.

pity joins concern and confusion.

“(name), if it’s hyuck you can talk to us-”

the sound of his name - no, his nickname, the one you’ve always been forbidden from calling him - is what truly forces you back into the truth of the situations both in your heart and between your legs. your friends’ stares start to suffocate you, and you suddenly want nothing more than to be at home. 

“i have to go,” you interrupt soobin, standing up as you speak. they all watch, speechless, as you shovel your things into your backpack. “i just- i have to leave. i’ll see you guys later.” 

you rush back to your apartment, tossing your bag onto the couch before you lock the front door. you’re thankful to find that your roommate is still in class, or at a club meeting, or wherever. you aren’t quite sure. it doesn’t matter to you - you’re only really looking for one thing, the one thing that you hope will draw your mind off of your aches and your hurt. 

you almost cry when you find that your vibrator has no charge on it, and you really do cry when you find that your own fingers, your own hands aren’t enough anymore. it takes a long, long while of imagining that it’s donghyuck touching you, donghyuck who’s giving you the pleasure you deserve, before you can finally properly come after two whole weeks.

after that, it just keeps getting worse. 

♕ ♕ ♕

it’s day 11 when you catch sight of him across the dining hall. 

he doesn’t see you - you make sure of that when you walk back out immediately after having walked in. it isn’t a big loss - you’ll just go ahead and pay at a nearby foodtruck for once. you’ve been meaning to taste test from the new shawarma truck for a while anyways. 

still, the glimpse of him sitting, laughing at something one of his friends has said right before taking a bite of what you believe is a burrito haunts you. more specifically, the image of him nonchalantly licking sauce off his tan skin, swirling his tongue around his thumb and index fingers to make sure it’s all off, is immediately burned into the space behind your eyelids. 

even as you sit on a park bench, taking bites of your pita bread while intermittently scrolling through your phone, you can’t shove donghyuck out of your mind. his tongue terrorizes you, flashes of your past trysts with him running through your mind even as you’re determined to focus on your bread and your bread only. 

it doesn’t work. 

he might be godly with his fingers, but it isn’t as if his tongue isn’t skilled, either. donghyuck has stamina for days, and you attribute it to both youth and the fact that he’s in a frat. you assume sex is some kind of competition for the brothers, although you hope donghyuck doesn’t just see you - hadn’t just seen you - as a conquest, another tally mark. you don’t know if you’d put it past him, though.

after all, if there’s anything donghyuck hates, it’s losing. 

and he’d never lost with you. no matter how much you tried to gain control, tried to keep yourself from reacting in the ways he wanted just for the sake of being a brat, donghyuck always won. you can’t even count the number of times he’d eaten you out quickly, sloppily, smirking against your skin in a way that has your nerves on fire. he’d kissed you with everything he’d had, bruised your collarbone and laved his tongue over it like you were his lifeline. his mouth is just as heaven-sent as the rest of him. 

you find yourself squirming on the park bench, annoyingly familiar with the tightening in your stomach. donghyuck has a hold on your heart, yes, but you think you hate the hold he has on your underwear even more. 

that night, while you dream, you dream of his lips, his tongue. you dream of his smiles and his smirks, the way his mouth looks falling open as you run your own tongue over the head of his cock. you can’t get enough of him, even when you’re asleep. 

you wake up sweating. 

♕ ♕ ♕

your roommate wakes you up at 2 am on day 14 by loudly and angrily knocking on your bedroom door. before you can even open it, a shout of ‘don’t fuck too loudly’ hits your ears, and you hear the door of the other bedroom in your apartment slam shut. you’re barely out of bed when there’s even more knocking, though, this time, it’s far softer. 

“can i come in? can we talk?”

your breath hitches, and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’re only wearing skimpy underwear and an oversized t-shirt. still, against the ongoing war inside your head, you find yourself turning your door handle and pulling it open. 

donghyuck, dressed in plaid pajama pants and a neon yellow shirt that’s definitely from some volunteering organization or the other, looks positively forlorn. even worse than than, he looks completely hopeful. you doubt he’s aware of this dichotomy as you step aside, letting him walk in before closing the door behind him. 

“before you - fuck, if you were even going to say anything, honestly - let me explain myself. let me explain myself, and then i’ll fuck off again, and we don’t - we don’t ever have to even see each other again, yeah?”

you’re still groggy, but just seeing him both saddens and enrages you. luckily for donghyuck, you’re far too tired to kick him out, so all you do is nod before gesturing for him to sit down on your bed. for your part, you settle down at your desk chair, pulling it so it’s near the foot of your bed. 

“i never had a problem with emotionless sex before i met you,” he starts out, and your mind is working at a mile a minute trying to process what he’s saying. donghyuck, lost in his own thoughts, doesn’t notice this, only forging ahead. 

“at first, i just thought you were a good fuck, i- i just figured we were having some fun, you know? but then i started... i started letting you stay nights, and you woke me up with breakfast that one time, and... and it just felt right, you know? i didn’t let you call me haechan because it felt too formal, and hyuck just doesn’t carry the weight your words have for me. that, and i was worried that if i let you call me the same thing everyone who loves me calls me, then it would be true, and it would be real.” he finally pauses in his ramblings, taking a deep breath at the end as if it’s the first one he’s taken in a while. donghyuck looks at you expectantly, as if waiting for you to talk or ask or do anything, but he finds that your mouth is just slightly open, your eyes wide as you try and puzzle together what he means. 

you’re lucky he’s feeling patient. his eyes light up slightly once you finally respond after what feels like eons. 

“... what would be real?”

donghyuck’s budding smile disappears as quickly as it had grown, and he suddenly can’t look at you. he busies himself in roving his eyes around your bedroom, swallowing before he can reply to your question. 

“the fact that i was falling for you. it wasn’t just sex, anymore. i- i wanted to... i want to cuddle with you, watch godawful movies with you, go iceskating and drink hot chocolate with you. i don’t just want to fuck you, i... as goddamn cheesy and sappy and awful as it sounds, i want to make love. the thing i was so worked up about that day was that i’d seen you laughing and talking with some other guy when you’d first gotten to the party, and it made me ache on the inside in ways i didn’t know i could. i might just be in love with you, and it freaked me out, so i hurt you. i’m sorry for it, but nothing’s changed other than the fact that i’m not afraid of my own feelings anymore.”

his declaration - his spiel - hits you in the heart, and you’re so stricken in the moment that it must show across your face. donghyuck’s eyes flit to yours, and whatever he sees in them must hurt him immensely, because he allows himself the saddest smile you’ve ever seen on anyone before he pushes himself off your bed. 

“i, uh, i know you don’t feel the same way. i just figured i should tell you,” he says, words coming out softer than he means for them to. the smile he gives you is gentle and kind, and you can feel your eyes start to well as he turns around to open your door. he doesn’t look back at you as he speaks again while pulling it open. 

“it was nice knowing you, (name). maybe we can be just friends one day.”

you can’t sit by anymore - your thoughts are done forming. without thinking, you lunge out of your chair, grasping onto donghyuck’s shirt. 

“i might be in love with you too, you absolute fucking idiot,” you gasp out once you’ve forced him to turn around and face you. “and i asked if you wanted to talk that night because i might love you. i asked because i care, and because i wanted to be more than just a fuckbuddy. god, we’re both stupid as hell.”

“you...” donghyuck manages to get out, his hands finding your waist automatically after he gently kicks your door closed. “you want to be more than what we are too?”

“yes!” you cry out, reaching up to cup his face. “yes. i mean, i miss getting laid, too, and i’ve been dreaming of you, i won’t lie, but yes, i want to hold your hand and go on coffee runs and make you my phone wallpaper and do other gross, couple-y shit with you. i have for a while. i’m still a little mad at how you handled that last night, but i- yes, i want you to be my boyfriend.”

“seriously? really? like really, seriously?” donghyuck asks, the situation at hand finally dawning on him. his eyes are alight with new fire, and as you nod vivaciously he can’t help but laugh and pull you into his chest. 

“then it’s settled,” he says, once you both finally pull apart. “we’ll go out and watch a movie or something tomorrow - or, i guess today - night. yeah?”

“yeah.” you agree, smiling genuinely at him. as you look into his eyes, you see them shift slowly from their soft gaze to having a slightly darker, harder edge. his fingers tighten against the cloth of your shirt, and you swallow under his hot stare. you’re guessing that he missed being inside of you just as much as you missed having him inside of you. 

“you also mentioned dreaming of me,” he mutters, leaning close to speak directly into your ear. you can’t help the shiver the runs through your body, and donghyuck doesn’t try to hide the low laugh he has at your expense. you don’t trust yourself to speak, not at 2 am while cornered by the one you love, so you just nod, your hair tickling the side of his face. 

“no bullshit tonight?” he asks, one hand already coming up to trace what’s showing of your collarbone. you whimper out a ‘yes’, and he walks you backwards until you’re forced to sit down on your bed, forced to stare up at him. 

he smiles down at you, and to your surprise, it isn’t hardened or full of command. it’s soft, and real, and you can tell that it’s meant just for you. you smile sweetly back up at him, and he runs a thumb over your cheekbone.

“show me what i did in your dream,” he finally says, sinking to the floor on his knees in front of you. you must look both incredulous and inquisitive, because he takes both of your hands in his, intertwining his fingers with yours before looking up at you. when he finally speaks again, your heart flutters, and you know that maybe, just maybe, the two of you will be alright. 

“show me what i did in your dream. tonight, it’s all about you.”

[thekidultlife]

100 Things I Learned About Love | Vernon!Android AU

Pairing: Hansol Vernon Chwe x female!reader

Genre: SCI FI!! Action, Romance, Angst(?)

Word Count: 22.2k (yes another giant fic)

Warnings: A bit of death and gore

A/N: Well, I’m gonna say sorry first to the anon who requested a vernon android au when we were just starting this blog (like three yrs ago) and I only managed to finish it now;; 

So this fic is a continuation (and is in the same universe) of the Jihoon Android AU The Coldest Human; The Warmest Robot. It is primarly inspired by the book “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” by Philip K. Dick and the anime “Beatless”. This one here has also elements from Huxley’s “A Brand New World” (because I just love reading dystopian novels for some reason). I kind of mashed everything together to create the world! 

This will be the 2nd part of a four part series! Next would be Soonyoung’s story and then finally Joshua’s! This series kind of explores the whole world I created for it. Jihoon’s story introduced the whole world and the relationship between android and creator, while Hansol’s story explores the world of bounty hunters! I still haven’t decided fully with what to do with the rest but I hope you enjoy this one!!

Tag List: @haotheheckk, @smthingabtlove!! (because they asked to skskks)

If mornings had any color, it would be a disgusting green. Afternoons, electric orange. Midnights, as dark as crude oil. Cities were built upon lines of flickering yellow, as streets were colored with the void of space; dark, desolate, and meaningless.

Society is tinted with the same shades of emptiness. Dressed in uniform white body suits—hair covered entirely as it was deemed unhygienic—only the face bore the resemblance of the classic human being, as if it was a mask. Serene smiles and polite gestures were exchanged almost to a hundred times; laughter was hollow and chemically induced, as with tears and frowns. Frivolity and superficiality were the main trends. 

As what they appear to be, is what they are actually are.

Welcome to the West Martian colony!

“Here ya go. The case’s now yours, doll,” your boss tossed a folder filled with papers on the polyester table. “Choi quit a few days ago after retiring Woozi.”

Your head perked up immediately as soon as you heard the news; disbelief painted on your face.

“What? Why?” you asked, standing up with mouth agape. He was one of your idols, your role models; the reason why you went into this line of work.

“He’s not talkin’, doll. Sadly. Told me it’s personal. But can’t blame him really, this business is gettin’ old.”

Your boss with his thinning hair and scotch-tapped broken glasses, sipped from a coffee stained mug; seemingly too overused for years of constant coffee drinking.

Yet you loved this place—this pseudo-police department home to bounty hunters of West Mars, with its crumbling brittle plastic window blinds and its moldy paper odor—all a different world than that of the city around it. You loved how it was like something straight from an Earth comic book; classic, rustic, and homey; a sheer contrast to the minimalist style of the new century.

“So what do we have here? Some andy from the Orion branch?”

A finger flipped through the factsheet with brows raised and lips in a tiny pout as you scanned the information laid before you. There were several official photographs of the unit after it was made, but none were security cam shots.

“So, from the organization…SVT-class Type-12 Vernon. The name’s too Western.”

Your boss shrugged. “The org’s just pastin’ names on their andys like butter on bread, dolly.”

“Guess so. But this Vernon just looks someone my age,” you remarked, munching on the biscotti within your arm’s reach.

“It’s an andy, YN. A hundred years, and it’ll still look the same. Now off ya go, better start retiring ‘em or you’re gonna get retired first.”

Sighing, you stood up and brushed the crumbs off your skinny jeans. Bending over, you picked up your briefcase filled with a laser gun and a V-T scale equipment as you bid your boss a short goodbye.

In reality, you didn’t want to leave the home base.

One particular reason was that you’d be taking the hovercraft and start cruising around the godforsaken city, not that it believes in any god for as long as you could account for. The city was an abomination, a stubborn mulish creation born out of rejection of the old, ancient ways—ways that had led to the destruction of the Earth, ways you still hold on to despite migrating to Mars. Despite being physically present, and even born in the red planet, you knew your heart was still back on Earth. You were proud to be to be human, with ancestry from the noble home planet, and everything which diminishes humanity is your enemy.

—you paused.

Lips parted, eyes transfixed.

A thousand snowflakes suspended on the air as if you were in a colony-sized snow globe. You continued to wonder, because you had never before seen snow in its truest, purest form, and everything you knew about them was from data gathered on Earth.

You removed your glove to touch one floating. It was cold, you shivered. However, it did not melt as you expected it to be as it only glistened against the dark backdrop of the city night like holographic particles.

“What the—!”

As if deliberately cutting you off, the hovercraft swiveled across the air, its power flickering on and off until it was unable to balance itself, swerving up and down across the night sky. You held on to the metal rails, as the turbulence brought you to your knees, the alarm systems of the vehicle blaring on your ears.

“Fucking hell…!” You cursed, grabbing your laser gun as the vehicle plunged you towards the empty streets of the city. Fortunately enough, you were trained to encounter these sorts of problems and thus, you were able to jump towards the nearest rooftop before the hovercraft exploded upon impact to the asphalt road.

Sighing, you watched the flames burn plastic and metal as if you couldn’t believe what you had just experienced. Well, of course it was unbelievable. So far, the only adventure you had experienced in your whole life was your day-to-day job of ‘retiring’ andys, which could get a bit messy but those were on balmier days. Normally, it wouldn’t get pass you to laser a hole on an andy’s head, but if you’re doing it like ten to twenty times a week, it could get boring.

Bam—!!

Your thoughts were placed in a halt as several other hovercrafts continued to fall from the sky like shooting stars, except that people could get killed. But havoc proceeded as it did, where lines of self-driving cars suddenly powered on and chased after human beings who had heard the crash and checked what had happened.

“What the fuck is happening?” you whispered, eyes peering on the alley beneath you. Hopping on several rooftops and sliding down the gutter towards the ground, you cautiously approached the main road, seeing if there was anyone who was in trouble. Luckily, there wasn’t anyone loitering around at this hour anymore.

You checked your intercom for any news or announcements from your home base or from the AI government, yet there was none. As it were, your intercom was actually having trouble projecting a hologram or following any of your commands seemingly halfway hacked.

“Dammit, I couldn’t get hold of HQ,” you grumbled, running towards a nearby police android to alert its human command center. “Hey, could you get in touch with your district station? It’s getting chaotic here.”

Yet the android only stared at you, its eyes blank as if you were a mere holographic image. The artificial smile on its face, which was made to comfort humans interacting with it, seemed more sinister than welcoming. The prolonged silence causing your heart to thump in anxiety.

“Hey? You heard me? Tell the—”

“Hi there. I’m Akiro. What can I do to help you?” It’s human voice making shivers crawl down your skin.

“I said, alert the district station! Haven’t you detected the level of violence—”

“Hi there. I’m Akiro. What can I—Hi there. I’m Akiro—Akiro—Hi—Hi there. H-H-H-Hi-i-i-i—”

The malfunction was obvious in its speech. It wasn’t unusual for an android to malfunction but when it began moving closer and closer to you, you took a step back, dread treading on your spine. Androids made you uneasy as humans once felt ill at ease with clowns—its artificial expressions making its lack of a soul even more prominent, triggering your fight or flight response.

It continued to move towards you until a snowflake dropped on its head, stopping as if it was suddenly glued to the ground. You hesitantly walked closer to it, inspecting its dead eyes to see if it had returned to normal. Raising an arm, you reached for its control box hidden behind its neck.

It grabbed your wrist, without warning. You gasped and began struggling to release yourself from its vice grip, yet you knew how strong androids were.

“Fuck it!”

“Hi there—Hi—I’m A-A-A-Aki-Akiro,” the android continued talking as if its movements were controlled by a remote system.

You moved to reach for your laser gun at your back pocket but the android was swift enough to twist your arm in a lock on your back. It pushed you to the ground as you grit your teeth at the scrapes on your knees and elbows, but you couldn’t break free.

“What can I do to help you?”

You groaned. “Maybe letting go of my fucking arm?”

Gathering your wits, you pushed yourself off the ground, rolling sideways and then kicking the android who was thrown off-balance with your two feet. As it fell to the ground, you grabbed your laser gun and without hesitation, pulled the trigger to blast off its processor.

As the headless android dropped to the asphalt, you sighed in relief as the adrenaline continued to pump into your veins, breathing heavily from all the action. You didn’t understand why the android was behaving out of its initial program and attacking you, a human, who it was supposed to protect.

While you were resting, the glaring headlights of a self-driving car were flashed towards your direction.

Disoriented, you froze to the ground as you tried to make do of your situation and surroundings. However, just like the android, the car sped right towards you in its maximum speed, as if it was trying to kill you. As soon as you heard its tires screech, you willed yourself to move away as the car missed you in just a few centimeters—throwing you to the ground and slammed itself towards the nearby wall.

Without even letting you take a breath, an arm was encircled around your neck, making you unable to breathe; its grip tightening gradually. Two other androids—one a police android, the other a personal helper—faced you with their blank stares as if they were zombies ordered to kill any human on sight.

The helper android had your laser gun on its possession as it slowly aimed it on your head. Panic rose as you tried to remove the arm locking you in place. Mentally, you were cursing at how you had underestimated the situation and let yourself die under the hands of goddamn androids.

Silently, the android pulled the trigger and you braced yourself for impact.

Except it didn’t come.

Your eyes were forced open when you heard the sound of metal dropping to the ground. What you saw had your eyes widen in astonishment as another small disk stuck itself on the police android’s head and split it into individual pieces. In a few seconds, you were dropped onto the ground, choking on your knees as the pieces of the android holding you fell into heaps next to you.

“Are you okay?”

A warm voice asked as a hand was offered to you. You looked up to see doe-like eyes gazing at you with a curious but a worried expression. His slightly curly caramel colored locks fell to his forehead softly as if it were made of the finest materials.

You nodded silently, still stunned by everything happening around you.

When you didn’t take his hand, the mysterious man carried you on his back as he walked you away from the site. While you were being carried, you noticed how he was ‘destroying’ the approaching rogue androids with a disc-like device which would stick on their skin and eventually ‘disassembling’ them to several parts.

“W-who are you…?” you finally asked, your voice returning despite still being painful.

Grabbing another disk from his pocket, the guy hurled it towards an incoming self-driving car which had it stopping, its parts detaching themselves automatically.

“I’m called Hansol. The snowflakes are nanobots which hacks the AI in androids and cars and drives them into killing humans. Unfortunately, I don’t have the capabilities to stop it,” he replied, his voice kind of removed, which had you wondering if he was an android or not. “Though I think Jihoon can.”

“Then…this…this will all continue?” you asked unbelievingly. You didn’t want it to continue, of course. More people would die and you still weren’t sure to what extent the casualties are because of this sudden outbreak.

“The snowflakes will lose its power when its controller is far away. So far, Joshua is already gone from this area.”

“Joshua? An android?”

“Yeah. SVT-class Type-03 Joshua. We came here together, and I tried to convince him out of it, but he wants to test out his abilities.”

Having enough evidence, you pushed yourself away from Hansol and landed safely on the ground with an abhorrent look on your face.

Aiming your laser gun at him, you shouted. “You’re an android too, aren’t you?”

Hansol simply gazed at you with his piercing eyes—tempting you to retract your accusation.

“Yes, I am. SVT-class Type-12 Vernon,” he replied, then looking down on the ground as he scratched his nape. “I like the name Hansol better though, so I want to be called Hansol from now on.”

You grinned. Your prey presented itself right in front of you without you giving an ounce of an effort.

“I’m supposed to retire you, you know?” you remarked, still aiming the gun at him. “And I will.”

Hansol stared at you with a frown on his lips, obviously disliking the fact that he was about to ‘die’ tonight. In fact, he didn’t want to die. He had a lot of things he wanted to do, so many questions yet unanswered.

“I’m…I…I don’t know how to plead. The data is incomplete in the cloud, but, um…don’t shoot me…please,” Hansol replied as he raised his arms.

You were obviously taken aback by his plea. You couldn’t count how many androids begged for their lives because there were none. He was the first one who ever did it.

Shaking thoughts of doubt, you tried to reason with yourself.

Androids don’t plead. They escape. Kill.

The most efficient way out is what they do.

“How am I supposed to believe you?” you shouted back; your finger threatening to press on the trigger. “You might be using analog hack for all I know.”

He scratched his nape again, unable to give an appropriate answer. “Well…I guess I could only ask you to trust me.”

You laughed sarcastically. You have never seen an android use deception so badly.

“If that’s too much to ask, then I guess this is it,” he continued, looking at you again straight into the eyes with his evocative gaze.

You just couldn’t believe what you were hearing. For all the years you spent hunting androids, never had you encountered one who had basically given up without any chase or struggle, especially from one who had every capability to squash you like an ant. You couldn’t help the itch to ask.

“Why? Why give up?”

Hansol shrugged, his gaze on the yellow lines outlining the faraway city buildings. “If I fight back, I will hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You gazed right into his eyes for a moment, trying to gauge the truth in his words, trying to calculate if he was using analog hack against your weakness as a human being. You dislike androids but never had you seen one like him.

“How should I know that?” you shouted again; laser gun still aimed at him. “Using tricks like reverse psychology…I’ll give you an A+ for creativity.”

“I’m not lying,” the android instantly replied. “If you have to kill me, then there is nothing I could do. I made a vow to myself never to hurt humans because that’s the right thing to do. I don’t want to see anyone suffer because of what I did. For some reason, it pains me as well.”

If only you could see how wide your eyes were, or how your lips parted in disbelief the moment you heard him. It almost gave you goosebumps. The air that hung underneath his every word felt so real and heavy that you would have never thought it was uttered by a mere android.

Androids and morality? Fucking hell…who would’ve thought you’d string those words together in the same sentence.

He was more human than most people living in the city. An android—known for their lack of soul; born only to be enslaved by their own programming; without their own thoughts, their own convictions.

But here is one in front of you, willing to die for his own principles; saying it pains him to see you hurt. That is not what androids do. Not in a million years.

What the hell is he then?

You threw your arms up in the air and tucked the laser gun in its holster as you made one big, ugly groan.

“Oh fine! Fuck it! I give up!”

Whether or not he will run away or he will kill you, you didn’t care anymore. It was a risk. You blame your biological flaw to see human traits in objects if he ever did harm you, but whatever, you decided to trust him.

With a small smile and a tiny huff, Hansol walked towards you slowly.

Heart hammering against your chest, you were deathly afraid that he might twist your neck or blast a hole through your chest. You couldn’t be so sure with these androids.

As soon as he had reached you, Hansol placed a hand on top of your head; your eyes squeezed tightly shut as if trying to brace for something bad coming. Yet as soon as you felt his hand, you opened your eyes and gave him a quizzical look.

He only smiled.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

The following morning was the same as ever. Except, not.

“—last night which appears to be a massive AI hack on neighboring Sectors 3, 4 and 7—“

With eyes heavy and a cup of coffee, you pressed another button.

“—71 people dead and more than a thousand injured, hospitals are in full capacity as of the moment—“

Another press of a button.

“—and take a deep breath. Happiness is found within Mercer as we continue to ascend up on the hill—“

“What a load of crap,” you muttered, turning to another channel. It was still six in the morning and you were already in a painfully awful mood. It could’ve been easily fixed with a Penfield Mood Organ but that was another can of shit you’d rather not touch with a ten-foot pole.

“—Mrs. Kim?”

You hadn’t caught on with what the news anchor was asking Mrs. Kim, but you could already take a gander that it was definitely about last night.

“My husband…He was just…he was truly a hero,” Mrs. Kim answered, wrecked by staggered sobs and sniffling of noses. You continued to watch, wondering what had happened to Mr. Kim—crushed by a car? Ran down by a flaming rogue hovercraft? Murdered by an andy?

“Your husband a hero, Mrs. Kim?” The interviewer repeated, coaxing the other for details. You waited for the dramatic reply after Mrs. Kim had settled herself down from the crying fit she was having.

“Yes…someone was stealing our ducks last night—“

You paused.

“During the whole chaos?”

“Yes, sir,” she sniffed and you rolled your eyes. “He—he tried protecting them yet they murdered him! Those bunch of foul-hearted bastards! Our ducks! Our Muscovy ducks…they were fifty grand a piece—“

You switched the TV off, now more tired and irritated than you were when you had turned it on about an hour ago. If you were asked to name one trend which just tasted like shit to you, that would probably be the current craze over owning animals. The whole Mercerism thing was only running second to that.

“I, uh…made some pancakes,” a foreign but familiar voice interrupted your thoughts, making you turn your head towards the doorway. With your eyes set upon Vernon, or Hansol, as he liked to be called, you instantly recalled what had happened last night.

You wondered if your brain disappeared that time or your common sense simply deteriorated because there was no way you would let a half-a-million-dollar bounty money just run free. Not to mention that he has all the capabilities to decapitate you in a millisecond.

Inwardly groaning, you gave him a small glance as he waited for your response with sheer curiosity. At least he followed you to your apartment and now you have a free housekeeper.

But that was last night, this was today. You can certainly do something about it, but you weren’t really in the mood for it. A headache was threatening to split your brain into half and racking your brain about the moralities and the whys of your decision last night wouldn’t really help anyone.

“Oh, right, right,” you replied absentmindedly, removing yourself from the cover of your flannel blanket and walked towards the dining room of the small apartment your meager earnings could afford.

It was a simple place. White walls, dirty carpet, and a worn-out sofa which had seen better days. Kitchen was slightly okay—the once white tiles now yellowed with age; the grout covered in black mold of unknown origin. The view was horrendous; covered up by dark globs of factory shadows and the ever-present rumbling of the monorail as it passes by.

Being a bounty hunter wasn’t exactly a glamorous job. It wasn’t like you were the police, who, as a matter of fact, are now mostly made up of androids. A bounty hunter does the nitty-gritty jobs the police wouldn’t do; such as hunting androids. Yet you liked this job. Even if it was stupidly exhausting.

Settling on your chair, you gazed at the expertly done pancakes and bacon, sending wonderful scents of home to your senses. You wondered why you had never thought of getting a helper android for yourself with how convenient they are, yet considering the fact that one helper was an inch away of killing you last night, it was better that you hadn’t.

“I hope you like them,” Hansol said, placing a bottle of maple syrup on the table. “I searched the cloud and it says you liked pancakes and bacon.”

Awkwardly, you nodded at him and then looked down on the piping hot breakfast on your table. You continued to gaze at it, the burnt patterns on the pancake beginning to take form of an image in your head, and then back at Hansol who was just standing at the side.

“You don’t like it?” he asked, as soon as he noticed the blank look on your face, curious if the cloud made some mistake.

“N-no! It’s…it’s fine,” you replied, waving your hands to and fro. “I just, um…are you just going to stand there?”

Hansol raised his brows at your question, his doe eyes widening just a bit. “Ah, me? Yeah. Isn’t this the right way?”

“The right way?” you asked, your forehead creasing.

“Yeah, the right way. I’m an android so I can’t sit with you. I heard from the cloud.”

“Why not?”

Hansol shrugged, the kitchen towel in his hands hanging. “Heard it’s inappropriate according to human table etiquette. Besides I don’t need to eat and I don’t really get tired.”

Sighing, you rolled your eyes at his response. “Human standards, what a load of bull. You just standing there makes me uncomfortable. So, you either sit down or you scram.”

You could tell that he was definitely taken aback, and began wavering if he should follow you or not. In the end, Hansol was forced down on the chair in front of you with a nervous look, awkward in his seat as you continued to stare at him.

Finally acknowledging that everything was alright, you began to drip maple syrup on your pancakes. The android was only watching you and your actions—very typical android behavior; gathering data from its surroundings.

“So, you’re Hansol?” you began, slicing through the three-tiered pancake tower with a knife.

“Yeah. Vernon is my model name, but I want to go by my own name.”

You raised your brows at him, biting into a forkful of food. “Cool. You picked that name on your own?”

“Yeah. It was the name of a musician I liked, so I took it.”

“Oh,” was the only thing you could say, because deep inside your head, you were already in a state of confusion.

For all the years working as a bounty hunter, this was the first time you’ve ever seen an android want to name himself after a musician he liked. Hell, this was your first time seeing an android have preferences. Usually, they would reflect the preferences of the human being they were talking to, but you haven’t even said anything about yourself to him other than your name.

No. He probably accessed the cloud or something. Androids of his caliber usually have better access to the place data miners dump people’s personal information.

Is this how advanced the Nexus 9 really is? If so, this could potentially cause a stir among bounty hunters. If they can’t identify their prey, things could potentially end up disastrous.

“You do know I’m assigned to retire you? Or kill you, to be exact. Not sure why we’re still using euphemism towards damn machines but whatever,” you pushed on, curious of how he would respond, thinking if there was anything more to the Nexus 9.

“Yeah, you told me last night,” he replied immediately and at the most flippant way; as if he wasn’t talking about being killed by the person in front of him.

“And…you’re not worried?” you asked, eyeing him up and wondering what was currently running in his processor. “I could just whip out my laser gun and fire a hole through your head while I eat this pancake, you know?”

Hansol leaned his head to the side, looking as if he was trying to process an answer to your question.

“I’m not worried. I mean, if you wanted me dead, you would’ve done it already,” he replied, as a matter-of-fact.

“What if I’m just too lazy to do it today? I could do it any other day I want, any time I want, and the thing is, you robots can’t even predict it with your fancy algorithms,” you smirked at him, your prejudice against androids showing through.

Yet even with your provocations, Hansol remained calm.

“It doesn’t matter. The fact that you haven’t done it yet means a lot to me. That’s why I trust you.”

At his answer, you simply frowned; unamused that he rebutted you with a good response and by the time he replied, you had already ran out of rocks to throw at him. So, in the end, you simply scoffed and finished your pancake, leaving him by the dining table with an irate glare.

Hansol watched your retreating back as he began to clean up the mess on the table. He was truly being honest with his words—he trusted you, and if he dies at your hands, well, that was it. Even though he didn’t really want to think of that possibility.

It was strange that the thought of you betraying his trust hurt more than the thought of dying.

“I’m going to work now. Don’t even think about leaving this place,” you told him as soon as you returned from the bedroom, all geared up. “There are other bounty hunters out to get you, and I don’t want them to get my bounty money.”

Silently, Hansol nodded as he saw you pick up your work equipment and your laser gun in a manner that seemed routine. Before you took another step further however, you stared into his eyes, thinking, pondering what you were about to do.

Slowly, you raised your arm and allowed the laser gun on your hands to unfold, pointing towards his direction. You saw the crosshairs between his doe-like eyes—an image you frequently saw seconds before you blow a hole through an andy’s processor. A decision made in a fraction of a second can ultimately change your life—that if you simply pressed the trigger within your grasps, Hansol would no longer move, or talk, or look at you with evocative gazes.

At that moment, you had all the power between “life and death”, as he unquestioningly relinquished it all to you by simply standing there in his spot in front of the kitchen counter.

Hansol felt himself tense up despite his calm exterior. He could already see it, just after thinking about the possibility, yet he never thought reality felt more painfully sharp than his thoughts were.

Your fingers brushed against the trigger. Just one press and he will be gone and you will be rich. Just another day as a bounty hunter. Could you do it?

You sighed.

In the end, you lowered your gun and turned to the other direction as if nothing had happened.

“I’ll be late for work,” you simply remarked, more to yourself than to anyone and then left him there in the kitchen, still stunned. You wondered if your shoulders felt burdened because of the heavy gun or because of the decision you just made.

Quick footfalls echoed across the dreary hallway.

The place stunk like hospital antiseptic and muriatic acid; matching the dim-lit atmosphere illuminated by only a few incandescent bulbs hanging every two meters. There were glass windows every so often, and if you took your time to peer through, you would see rows and rows of human-sized cylinders filled with a greenish liquid; all connected by wires the size of your torso to a place you simply assumed was the power supply.

“What an ironic place to hide for an andy,” you remarked as you looked around. Your partner this time, by the name of Morrison, scoffed amusingly at your comment.

“Who would’ve guessed they’re in a fertilization plant?”

You frowned. “What a gloomy place to be born in.”

Exactly as the name suggested, fertilizations plants ‘manufacture’ children. While that is as disgusting as you thought it was, that is the reality of the world you live in. While there are a few rare exceptions, people no longer have sex—it was too animalistic, too impure of an act to participate in.

Thus, the solution to a declining population is just to make babies just like how factories make your easily reproducible mug sitting on your kitchen counter. You couldn’t even deny the awful truth that you were made in one of these factories (you know, just like your mug). And more disappointingly, there was truly no ethical problem, because the world today only worships one god: Purity, in its coldest and most cruel manifestation.

In the end, aren’t we simply androids as well? Just made up of blood and guts?

“So? Have you caught on to that SVT andy yet?”

Morrison suddenly asked, dragging you back from your inner thoughts. You took a double take.

“The what—?”

“The SVT-class andy,” he clarified, “you know, the Vernon one.”

The mere mention of his model name made you purse your lips in annoyance. If only you could say that he was in your apartment doing some arbitrary thing an android would do if they were left alone.

“Still nothing. I was supposed to do an initial search last night but after being caught in all that chaos, I just went straight home,” you lied, having no choice. There was no way you would let everyone know you have something worth half a million bucks in your dingy, totally unsecure apartment.

“Well, no one could have it easy with these military grades. They’re craftier than your average andy after all,” he shrugged, giving you a pat on the shoulder. “Remember when Choi Seungcheol took almost three months to locate SVT-class Woozi? Man, I could still remember coming with him to a dozen places just to look for leads.”

As soon as Morrison reminisced memories with the former chief, you feel a bit heavy hearted. You did look up to him as your hero.

“You ever knew why he left?” you asked.

Morrison only shrugged. “Some say he just got tired of this awful job. Some say he was getting married. Most of them are just gossip anyway.”

You only sighed. “I guess we might never know the truth.”

“C’mon! Choi wouldn’t want you depressed! Straighten those shoulders! We have an andy to face!” your partner smiled, again giving a strong shove on your back. “Today’s just a commercial grade escapee. It wouldn’t be that hard. Peyton had it already detained and ready for questioning.”

Sucking in a huge amount of air and exhaling loudly, you prepped yourself up for some wonderful, heart-palpitating action.

“Alright! Let get it!”

As soon as the both of you entered the room, which was definitely a locker room prepared by the factory staff for your visit, you could already see the subject sitting quietly in front of a steel table; a dim white bulb only giving light to the gloomy room. It was definitely a classic cult-style interrogation room you’ve seen in vintage silent films.

“Good day to you sir,” Morrison greeted as he set his fedora on top of the table and prepped his V-T scale. “I am Agent Will Morrison. You are under suspicion of being an android and we will be administering this test to confirm it or not.”

“I told him so many times already! I’m being framed! The manager hates me and he’s been spreading those rumors!” the man screamed, his face heavy with fear and anxiety.

“We’ll see. If that’s the truth, then there’s no need to worry,” you retorted back with a clipped tone.

You then placed your hands on his shoulders, asking him to wear specialized VR glasses and then carefully arranging the electrodes attached to a spectrometer on his face.

“Settle down now. You don’t want to affect the test results, right?”

At your cleverly concealed threats, the man stopped his outbursts and looked at you in fear. You simply smiled at him before giving Morrison the go signal.

Identifying and hunting androids almost every single day of your life, you couldn’t even count in your head how many times they went for this flimsy cover-up story. They probably thought they were being clever or something.

“So, Jonathan West, age 35 and working as a plumber in one of Sector 3’s fertilization plants, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” the man replied, unbeknownst to him, the test was already starting.

“You are accused as the android who committed the Palmaide Apartment murders wherein six people were discovered to be brutally murdered and then embedded inside the concrete walls of the apartment.”

“Sir! I’m not android! Please believe me! I have a wife and two kids….! I-I can’t possibly be the murderer!”

You slid unnoticed under the shadows beside Agent Peyton, although still nearby enough to the subject that it would be easy to subdue it down if it goes berserk.

Watching the test being conducted for the nth time, you could easily claim to have memorized all hundred and fifty questions in the questionnaire.

Most questions are practically the same—asking how you would react to certain and usually gruesome scenarios—all designed to gauge micro-expressions and reactions. It is a common belief that androids do not have these sophisticated and almost undetectable movements on your face. Hence, the electrodes.

“I want you to immerse yourself in a certain situation,” you could hear Morrison speak as he turned on the virtual reality system. “Tell me what you think of it.”

Here it comes. Your thoughts turned rancid as you recalled the contents of that video. It was made to intentionally cause distress in humans—limbs being torn, live vivisections, disgusting lobotomies and other gruesome things that could make your stomach lurch; and more importantly, it is intentionally shown to be done to people the subject knows in real life.

Tests such as the Voight-Kampff Scale however are hardly perfect. Humans are complex creatures and are fundamentally unpredictable variables. Different people react to one single scenario in a million different ways. Even if you are looking for signs of empathy—a true testament of humanity—not everyone exhibits it the same way.

That’s why, no matter how many times you’ve blasted a hole through an andy’s head, you would always have this unreasonable nagging feeling underneath your gut that screams you might be wrong. You might actually kill an innocent person.

As you stood there and studied Jonathan West, you realized that his expression turned from disturbed to one of sheer horror. It was quite easy to know, to be honest—he turned pale and looked as if he just wanted to pluck his eyes out and forget that he ever seen what he was seeing right now. It was too real to be simple analog hack.

“Sir…I-I…please make it stop! Please, please….I can’t look anymore,” He muttered weakly, looking as if he was really going to puke big time, which prompted Morrison to immediately close the virtual reality system.

The man was still panting when it was shut down; visibly distraught by what he had seen. Agent Peyton, who was silent during the whole ordeal, then went to the man and asked him if he was alright. In the end, Peyton gave him a glass of water before the test proceeded as it should.

In your opinion, after that display, the subject was already leaning to the ‘most likely human’ side of the spectrum. He wasn’t making red flags which could mark him as an android, though he had a few quirks such as making a rather hollow laugh. Some humans have that kind of laugh, so you didn’t really mind it.

There are days when the excitement of discovering an android wouldn’t really pay you a visit. Sometimes, humans are mistaken as androids either because of their personalities, or by people who simply don’t really like them. Just like how it was in this case.

After a series of more questions and tests, Morrison was also convinced that Jonathan West was human. Besides, the processor level of the android you were looking for wasn’t capable of doing such complex analog hacks.

Even after a deliberation between the three of you outside of the room, it became a unanimous decision to exonerate the subject of any of the accusations placed on him. While you were still a bit doubtful, both Morrison and Peyton—men of more experience than you have as a bounty hunter—agree that West was human and the rumors simply might have been caused by office politics.

“Mr. West, the three of us have finished deliberating and we have decided that you are indeed as human as you could be,” Morrison began, sitting on the same seat he had been for the past few hours.

The man let out a heavy sigh of relief as he made a bashful smile. “Oh my god! Thank you so much, my good sir! Thank you! Thank you!”

Studying the exchange just beside Morrison, you made a small smile. In the end, you didn’t make a mistake and he still had a chance to live. Accidentally killing someone just because of some careless assessment was something you’d rather not go through in your entire life.

“Well, we thank you for giving us your time,” Morrison said as he stood up and walked towards the man, extending a hand. “And we apologize for the inconvenience.”

West shook his hand as they walked towards the door with you and Peyton following closely behind. It was finally over, and you could finally think about what you’d have for lunch. It’s been a while since you had some simple sandwiches. Going for a Subway down 14th Street would be great.

Your eyes found themselves again watching the man and your partner Morrison. You can’t stop smiling at how peaceful the day had become, contrary to what you were expecting.

“It’s no problem, sir!” West exclaimed. “Thank you for trusting me.”

You halted. Your smile faltering.

Those words rang loudly like a deafening siren in your head.

Someone had said those exact same words to you the day before, but for some reason, right now, those words made you shiver in dread; fear dropping down the pits of your stomach.

You instantly averted your alarmed eyes towards West who had been looking back at you as well.

He gave you a blank look.

He knew. You knew.

In just a span of a few seconds, you immediately seized his wrist, twisting it behind his back before tackling him to the ground. You saw the glint of a concealed knife in West’s hands before it flew away to some indiscriminate area of the room.

The man struggled yet he was pinned down by your whole body weight, unable to move—a tactic you learned through experience by subduing andys day in and day out.

Without a second thought, you grabbed your laser gun and fired it center of his forehead. The man lay still in a matter of seconds.

Your heart was beating wildly. You had finally done it.

For a moment, you feared that you might see blood and pieces of bone after the bright light of the laser dissipated. Yet when you finally stood up, huffing, the only thing you saw was the bright red glow of metal heated to melting point.

The two men beside you only stared at the motionless body of the andy with stunned expressions in their faces; unable to believe that they had almost made a grave mistake.

Everything it did was an incredible display of analog hacking.

Because androids are incapable of creating actual emotion, they simply react to the environment and transmit the appropriate response as dictated by the cloud and by their own programming as a means to communicate properly with humans. Using this technique and the fatal flaw of humans to anthropomorphize objects, androids are able to give the impression of ‘humanness’, of having a soul. That is analog hacking.

By ‘hacking’ through people’s ability to empathize, androids are able to deceive, to give a feeling that they too have a soul. It almost killed all of you today.

Eventually, your colleagues’ stares migrated to your direction while you were still gathering yourself.

“What?” was the only response you gave.

It was only until later that noon, as the three of you enjoyed a wonderful lunch at the 14th Street sandwich joint, when Morrison finally put an end to his curiosity.

“Say, YN,” he began, his mouth full of sandwich. “That andy earlier. How’d you know it wasn’t human?”

You were in the middle of sipping from your can of soda when he opened that question. You could only scrunch your brows together, looking for the right way to answer the question.

“Well…” you replied, unsure of how to say it. “I just…I guess I just knew. There’s really no secret behind it. We just exchanged looks and I knew he was about to stab you.”

Peyton nodded. “Pure instincts, huh?”

You knew he was only acknowledging your reason, yet to you, it felt like he was questioning whether you were telling the truth or not. And to be perfectly honest, you were lying by omission.

Because after all, you can’t just tell them that the way that andy said those words and the way Hansol said it, felt so drastically different.

It only took as far as thirty minutes for Hansol to get bored of your characterless apartment and began to get curious about the city of West Mars. Peeking from your dirty windows, all he could see were the tall skyscrapers, fluorescing still despite the morning sunlight, and the numerous utilitarian-looking factories doting the Martian landscape.

He guessed this was a neighborhood no one really fancied to go to, other than those who actually live here—the specials, the dirty, the outcasts. Even after a few hundred centuries, human civilization barely took one foot forward. Even after the Earth had died and most of the population moved to space colonies, life was still the same. There were still oppressors and the oppressed.

Hansol clutched his tightening chest; his eyes still transfixed at the smoke belching from the factory chimneys.

It had been months since he began to feel something. At first there were small bursts of ‘pressure’ in his chest, just some unexplainable pangs of ‘pain’, ‘guilt’, and ‘conscience’— it all began when his fellow android Joshua started murdering people. Six people; a family.

Hansol couldn’t bear to watch it and tried to stop him, yet he also got embedded into the wall with them. The only thing saving him was his ‘second brain’ or a backup processor installed only in him, which was supposed to aid him in his tactical assessments. Otherwise, he’d be dead as well.

He tried to save those people, but he had been a few hours late. In the end, he could only call the police. All this time, whenever he recalled that certain memory, he had to hold himself together. All sorts of things swirled inside him that he thought he might have had a hydraulic leak, but there was nothing physically wrong with him upon inspection.

Jihoon called it ‘emotion’, as soon as Hansol contacted him—born from the rumored empathy organ installed inside all the SVT-class androids. It blurred the lines between human and machine. Hansol couldn’t understand it, even until now, he didn’t have a tight grasp on such an abstract concept. All he knew is that he didn’t want to see anyone get hurt because of him anymore.

Just like those six people.

Caught himself in reverie, Hansol decided to explore the city some more. Staying in your apartment seemed to be making him…reflect. If that was the right word.

He silently apologized to you as soon as he stepped out of the front door, a bit guilty that he had to disobey. But he wanted to do a few things first, and most of them involves going out of your apartment. If he could just go out and then be back before you were back from work, it was as if he never went out in the first place. Well, at least to you.

Going wherever his feet took him, Hansol found himself out of the slums and in the middle of the busy city center.

The tall buildings from the distance were now like crystal towers before him, extending to eternal heights to the heavens beyond. The bright lights of large TV screens flashed in vivid technicolor as it sang ads for the miraculous Penfield Mood Organ, while the throngs of people clad in all white body suits walked across the glowing asphalts beneath their feet.

The thrum of city life vibrated all throughout the crossing like a magnetic field pulsing at every nanosecond; almost undetectable by an indifferent crowd, yet to Hansol, it was almost as if electromagnetic waves were coursing through his skin.

He placed his hand over his chest; trying to ground himself as soon as he felt his heart (if he did have one) soar over something much bigger than life. He tried to put his finger on what to call it, but he guessed the closest he could describe it would be something akin to what humans call ‘wonder’, or ‘amazement’ or ‘astonishment’.

 “Good morning, sir! I am Akito, the police android! Is there anything I can help you with?”

Just like that, Hansol’s bubble was popped as soon as the android appeared. It seemed like he had been standing in the middle of the city center for far too long that it made him quite suspicious.

“No, I…I’m about to go anyway. Thanks, Akito,” Hansol replied, still quite disoriented from the sudden intrusion, but left his place eventually.

Wandering around the area, he noticed a variety of shops and stores, and even some that he didn’t really understand what for. Yet when he was browsing over the different designs for the white body suits most people seemed to enjoy wearing (not like it had other designs), he found what he was looking for.

Well, first on the agenda, then.

After a rather filling lunch, you and your colleagues went out of the restaurant and hopped into the company hovercraft to go back to the office. Since the whole hunting went surprisingly well and ended earlier than expected, there weren’t any hunting jobs scheduled for the rest of the day.

As you laughed at the joke Morrison cracked about how Peyton didn’t utter a single word for the first six months when he joined the company, you spotted a rather familiar figure from the distance.

You frowned and inwardly groaned.

“Boys, I think I have a few errands to do in the city center. You go on ahead,” you told them as they looked at you in bewilderment but reluctantly agreed.

“Well if that’s the case, see you tomorrow, YN,” Morrison replied as he wore his hat again. “Good work today!”

“Thanks! Good working with you two as well!” you told them and the pointed at Peyton playfully. “Better start working on your goodbyes too. See ya!”

As soon as there where gone, making sure that their hovercraft were already a few miles away from where you were standing, you marched irately at the subject of your irritation. It seemed he had moved places from where you had first seen him but you doubted if he had seen you as well.  

“Mister, mister! Do that again!”

It did take time for you to finally locate him since he was pretty much easy to spot relative to the city dwellers who were in all-white body suits. Voices of children were getting louder as you went deeper inside the nearby park, and finally, you caught up to him blowing bubbles in sizes no one would probably be able to do other than him.

“Hansol,” you called behind his back, your hands on your hips and frown on your face. “Why’s your hair black?”

Eventually he turned around and saw your rather upset expression which made him avert his gaze back to the ground. The children around him (and yes they were wearing those stupid body suits) looked at the both of you in wonder, surprised that their entertainment aka Hansol had stopped blowing bubbles all of the sudden.

“Who’s she, mister?” a child asked, probably confused at your sudden appearance. “Your girlfriend?”

“Oh, no,” Hansol replied, ready to explain everything. “I’m actually an android—”

Letting him finish was something you’d rather not do, so you immediately covered his mouth.

“Sorry kids, we’ve gotta go now!” You apologized and then managed to drag him out of the park, away from all those children.

Reaching a faraway bench at a rather remote place, you made him sit and contemplate about what he had done. Hansol seemed to know what was wrong and proceeded to sulk at the far end of the bench with a downcast look.

“Well?” you began, your arms crossed and your brows furrowed. Standing in front of him like that, it only made him feel a bit more guilty.

“I, uh…I’m really sorry…” he replied, still unable to look at you. He didn’t calculate the fact that you might be in the same area as well thus his plan had failed. He should consider attaching a GPS tracker on you.

“Didn’t I specifically tell you to not go out of the apartment?” you reprimanded him. “You could be seen by my colleagues and you’d be dead!”

“Sorry…I just wanted to change my appearance so I could hide more easily.”

You groaned and sighed heavily.

“You could be killed! You were lucky it was me who caught you the other night! You think other bounty hunters would just magically trust you if you asked them pretty please?”

“Then why did you?”

Hansol threw back a question right at you like a curve ball and it hit you hard right at the gut. Taken aback, you simply pursed your lips and glared at him.

“Please don’t ask me that,” you replied and then abruptly turned around. “C’mon. Let’s go back.”

 Watching your retreating back, just like this morning, Hansol silently regarded you and your response. In the end however, he couldn’t understand anything, and eventually rose up from his seat and followed you home.

“Tell me more about yourself.”

You asked one day, as the both of you enjoyed a quiet breakfast on a Sunday morning.

It was clear to you that Hansol was not your ordinary android. He does things and says things which clearly were not ‘android’ by nature. As someone who identifies and hunts down androids for a living, you thought you already knew how to distinguish a human being from an android, but considering your confusion towards Hansol, it seems like you clearly do not.

Which is why, you had to ask.

“Me? Uhh…” Hansol scratched the nape of his neck, thinking what parts of himself should he tell you because there really was a lot of information about him. “Well…I’m an android designed for tactical assessments.”

You raised your brow at him, clearly pondering why that was the first thing he wished to share with you. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, I, uh…I gather data, consolidate them and then give an assessment of what choices the enemy could make during battle. I just give information and it’s Jihoon who would give the orders and the others would do the fighting. I’m a non-combatant type.”

“So that’s why your only weapon are those disks. They’re for self-defense,” you replied, leaning back. “Anything else?”

Hansol only stared at you, caught off guard that he had to provide more. “Uh…my birthday is on February 18.”

You nodded at him, unsure how his processor actually works, because it seems like he’s been giving you random things about him. “You mean your manufacturing date. Andys don’t give birth.”

“You could say it like that, but I like to think it’s my birthday,” he replied, and you arched another brow at him as you took a sip from your cup of coffee.

“Why?” you asked. The more Hansol talked, the more you sink into bewilderment. You regarded yourself as someone who could tell the difference between an android and a human being, yet right now, as you conversed with Hansol, that fine line was beginning to get blurry.

“I think,” he began, snatching you away from your thoughts, “I think there’s just something special with a birthday than a manufacturing date. It’s like…how do I say this…if you have a birthday, you matter as an existence. You were born to leave a mark in this world. As an android who isn’t exactly ‘alive’, I’d like to know what mark I would leave.”

Utterly speechless was what you were after you had heard Hansol’s explanation. It was weird, truly weird how he had the self-awareness to question his purpose, and you were sitting there wondering if any of the androids you had retired before had thoughts like this. If they did, you weren’t so different to a murderer as you thought you were.

As guilt began to spiral inside your gut, you tried to rationalize your concerns. Hansol was just different, probably using a novel way to use analog hack. Yeah, he’s probably analog hacking you—pretending to have deeper thinking and consciousness which he could easily access through the cloud. That scenario had the highest probability to be true.

“Oh, wow,” you replied hesitantly, gazing at the empty plate before you. “I—uh…I don’t think I’ve ever met an android like you.”

“Really?” he asked, his voice seemingly curious. “I guess maybe because we have an up-to-date processor….”

“Maybe you’re right.” You quietly scoffed. Are the organization’s labs really that advanced to even mimic human thought?

Smiling, you stood up from your seat. “Why don’t we take a breath of fresh air?”

Hansol glanced at you with a questioning look. “Where are we going?”

“Oh, just a trip to the grocery store.”

Hansol had several presumptions before he arrived to the West Martian Colony, before he had met you.

From what he had gathered in the cloud, human beings are always unpredictable. They were not run by any program, any command, not like his kind who were bound to the beck and call of a few strings of code. Humans follow their “heart” or whatever that means. They are selfish and cold, kind and warm.

Hansol was definitely apprehensive. He had never met any human being aside from his creator and a few scientists who would come and go into the labs like a cold draft. Yet despite that, Hansol knew deep down, that he doesn’t hate people. He certainly doesn’t hate you.

His brothers’ views towards humans were varying however. Hoshi, or Soonyoung was a lot more carefree, though he believed in the traditional roles of an android servant and a human master. Jihoon was too preoccupied with figuring what was wrong with him that he didn’t seem to care about them (though it seems like he has that sorted out now, according to his last status report). On the other hand, Joshua disliked people. He always made it clear to his brothers that humans were weak and that androids had long outpaced their creators.

Clear enough to make him murder people just to show you how he looks down on them.

It was interesting listening to them in past back in the labs. However, now that he had escaped and had met you, these memories began to resurface in his processor. Hansol had no idea why, to be honest. Was it because he was beginning to interact with a real human being in a much closer environment? That would be an interesting theory to explore, but right now, Hansol had to focus on where you were taking him.

“—are you sure you haven’t met another android before?” you asked him, the first part of your question he hadn’t caught. “I mean; don’t you have that info in your cloud?”

Hansol hummed, scratching his head. “I have my brothers and I met a few police androids, but other than that, I don’t have much experience. As for the cloud, it only stores pure information. We cannot derive actual experience from it.”

“Ah, I guess that’s right,” you replied, realizing that maybe it was like gathering information about something only through a book. It’s likely not going to make anyone instantly good at something.

For a while now, Hansol had been studying you. He was quiet about it, but he always wondered why you haven’t retired him yet. It was no secret that he was your assigned target, but surely, a mere plea from that night wouldn’t change your mind in an instant. Humans are so unpredictable.

“Hmm…we should sit here,” you suddenly said, stopping before a stone bench. “This has a great view of the shopping plaza.”

As you had said, it indeed held a spectacular view of the massive plaza just a few steps in front of you. There were several boutiques, cafes, stores of every shape and size—yet of course, it was as drab as it can be.

Everything was white, as Hansol stared at one giant building, from the stone ground to the shops, buildings and even the latex suits people wore as they walk around. The only redeeming feature it had were the ever-changing holographic ads shown on the white walls.

“Looks stupid, doesn’t it?” you remarked as you seated yourself on the bench with a cold expression.

“Is that why you’re not wearing those suits?” he asked as he sat beside you, glancing at the plaza.

“Everyone else in this city is stupid,” you told him, ignoring his question.

“Why?”

You snorted loudly. “Look at them Hansol. Why are they wearing those stupid suits from head to toe?  Look at how they’re all smiling so happily as if everything’s alright. It’s stupid.”

Hansol continued to stare at them, gazing at every face, every being in that plaza. Of course, he could remember all of them because of his impressive processor, yet despite that, he couldn’t understand what you were trying to say.

“But those are just clothes,” he replied, shrugging.

“Not sure if an andy like you would get it. But it’s more than a fashion trend. It’s an ideology.”

Ideology. He turned that word over and over inside his mind, trying to milk out anything substantial from that word alone. A way of thinking. What are these people thinking then whenever they decide to wear those body suits? Why would they do that?

Your questions seemed to have opened a whole new world for Hansol to explore. Human ideology; there were so many of that from the old century alone—liberalism, fascism, socialism. Why do humans subscribe to these thoughts and beliefs? And what would that mean to him as an android? Would he be able to subscribe to an ideology? Or had he always believed in one, just never realizing it?

If that’s the case, would he be able to find his purpose in it?

“What do they believe in?” he asked you, now fascinated.

Glad that he asked, you immediately replied.

“Purity. Cleanliness. Everything that is old is dirty, bad, and everything that is new is clean, good. I mean, I could understand why. It’s our fault that the Earth is basically a one big garbage dump. Maybe we just want to wash our hands clean from all of that guilt. I don’t know.”

“Why is that stupid then? I think that’s a valid reason.”

“That’s true,” you replied. “But that was how it was back then. It used to be an ideology. Now, after hundreds of years had passed, it had been so ingrained into the culture that no one really asks why is clean good and dirty, bad. People are being ostracized because of this and no one really understands why. It just seemed to have become desensitized. It’s true meaning forgotten.”

“What do you mean?”

You scoffed. “Ask one of them why they where those body suits and I bet you they would answer it with something like ‘it’s clean’ or some sort of bullshit. Ask why the Penfield mood organ is such a huge trend nowadays, or why they would submit themselves to chemicals just to induce happiness.”

“People couldn’t bear to feel any longer. Emotions have become so burdensome that it’s just easier to change your mood with one press of a button. They just do whatever other people do and, in the end, it became some sort of a mob mentality.”

For once, Hansol saw true despair in your eyes. Even if you appear to hate how the world is, he knew you were just deeply sad at how things ended up. Anger is after all, expressed when you are too sad to cry.

It struck a cord inside his processor, for some reason, as he felt the urge to do something to make you feel a little bit better. He didn’t understand why, but he knew what he should do.

Silently, Hansol took your hand, his fingers slowly intertwining with yours. He felt warm, was what you immediately thought while you anticipated what he was about to do.

“It must be lonely living in this city. There are people all around you but they all feel like ghosts. Passing by, passing through the walls and then disappear without a trace,” he began as he kept on gazing at your connected hands, talking as if he was expressing his actual thoughts.

“Hansol…?”

“That’s why, as this city becomes more and more alienating…” he continued; his honest eyes piercing right through yours. “I’ll be your friend.”

For a moment, you gazed at him, too stunned to even utter a sound. It was just a simple proposal of friendship, yet why does your heart feel like it’ll burst from the seams?

“W-why…?” you asked, becoming more and more conscious about how he was gripping your hand so tightly; his thumb brushing your skin in slow soothing circles.

“Why, you ask…I’m not even sure myself, but,” he replied, “Maybe I just want to make that sad look on your face disappear.”

You pursed your lips, head totally blank for any response.

You shouldn’t just say that to anyone, you know?

Not to me who’ve never felt something like this before.

The sound of lasers fired. Muffled voices; indiscernible against the background battle noise.

It was another day out in the field, and you were lucky there were five of you hunting a military grade android. During hunts like this, you don’t usually share the earn; it was all for the experience. Besides, how much would you even get if the bounty was divided upon five people?

You zeroed in on your prey. Shooting a laser beam at its direction, you deliberately let it miss as the android dodged it. When it had stopped running, you slid on the gravel and kicked its feet off the ground, then turned around faster than it could recover. As you aimed your two laser guns at it, the image of Hansol flashed in your brain, which made you hesitate to press the trigger.

“YN! Watch your head!”

To return to your apartment with a bandaged forehead and a huge frown on your face was enough to let the door slam behind you. It was both stupid and humiliating to falter in the middle of a simple mission like that, especially if the reason was the android living in your apartment.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You were supposed to retire Hansol several months before yet here you are still hung up and getting more and more sentimental towards him as the days pass by.

You couldn’t help it. You were only human.

If he wakes you up in the morning with a smile and some PB & J; if he talks about his sudden interest in various things with an eager look; if he greets you as you return home from work, dinner on the table and then asking you about your day; if he holds your hand and says he’ll be your friend—could you even stop yourself from softening up?

You were clearly angry with yourself to let this whole thing get to this point.

Were you really that lonely that you would even find comfort in an android?

Tossing all of your equipment—V-T scale, laser gun and leather bag—on your worn-out sofa, you went straight to your bedroom and found the subject of your frustrations, sitting on the bed and looking at the window with a rather pondering gaze.

“Say, YN,” Hansol started, without even waiting another second to pass by. He probably knew that you were going home the moment you left the office.

“What?” you replied, unbuckling the holsters on your belt and all the safety gear you had on your body. “I’m not in a good mood so make it quick. I just got hammered by an android.”

Before he replied to you, Hansol decided to turn around and look at you with those eyes that seem to gouge the truth from the depths of your being. It made you halt all your fussing and returned his stare back at him.

“How do you know the difference between an android and a human being?” he asked which made you turn your head slightly. What a simple question to ask a bounty hunter.

“Well, isn’t that obvious?” you replied as you placed your hands over your hips. “Humans have empathy while androids don’t.”

“But what if something was invented to make android experience empathy? What then?”

You blinked several times at his second question and then began chuckling. “You mean an empathy organ? Sorry to burst your bubble but that’s not even real. It’s an urban legend.”

Hansol made a side eye as he pondered what he was going to say next, his expression basically unchanged.

“Just hypothetically speaking, if an empathy organ does exist, how would you know the difference now?”

“Eh…if we’re hypothetically speaking, then I don’t really know. I wouldn’t be able to hunt anymore if that’s the case. I can’t risk making a mistake and kill someone, not to mention that if androids begin crying before me and beg me for their lives, I wouldn’t be able to shoot them at all.”

As soon as you uttered those words, you paused and contemplated.

You gazed back at him—realization dawning on you; your eyes wide with incredulity.

It was no longer a matter of if. Someone had already begged you for their life and you didn’t shoot them.

No. No way.

That’s not possible.

At your silence, Hansol never confirmed or denied your realization and simply stared at you with those powerful eyes; waiting for you to finally digest it all.

“This isn’t hypothetical at all, is it?” you finally asked, your expression uneasy.

“No, it isn’t.”

You sighed frustratingly but it made sense.

If Hansol really has an empathy organ, everything he did—asking you to trust him, his un-Android like responses, him holding your hand—everything made so much sense. And while it did provide some answers, it gave you more questions as well.

First of all…

“H-How is that possible?!”

Hansol shrugged at your sudden outburst. “That’s why we escaped from the organization. We don’t know how it works or if it’s really installed inside of us, so we went our separate ways.”

“So…so…!” you pointed your finger at him, still incredulous. “There’s more of you?”

“Yeah. All of the SVT-class androids have empathy organs installed while we were being made in the organization’s laboratories. At least that’s how Jihoon suspected it.”

“Jihoon?”

“Yes. SVT-class Type-07 Woozi. He stayed behind the labs to search for our original creator. He did find her daughter and they’re working on an experiment to test the validity and the effectivity of the empathy organ.”

For a minute you felt like the ground was going to swallow you whole. There was too much go on, too much information that you can’t properly process them all. Falling on your knees to the ground as you leaned against the bed for support, you felt like you were going to have an aneurysm.

“YN? Are you ok?” Hansol dashed to your side in Mach speed, his hand easily finding your back.

For Pete’s sake! You’re the reason why I’m not ok!!

“I’ll get you a glass of water and some ice for your head injury. It seems like it could be the cause of your headache,” he told you and the disappeared towards the kitchen, completely oblivious of your dilemma.

Goddamn it.

Didn’t Choi Seungcheol retire Woozi already? If the andy’s still alive then did he fail the mission? If he did, then why did he confirm that he retired Woozi?

And then it seems like there are more empathy organs out there. Not to mention I’m living with an andy who’s supposed to have one.

It wasn’t even two minutes before Hansol was back with a glass of water which you promptly drank, and then allowed him to settle himself behind you while he was giving a cold compress to your head—all done without complaints because you were too lost in your thoughts.

No. No. No.

An empathy organ is just a myth! Something like the Holy Grail or something! It’s impossible for Hansol to have one!

But…it just fits so well with all the strange things he had done so far! Who android would hold your hand just because you looked sad?

Wait. Get yourself together, YN.

Hansol is just a weird android.

He’s totally chill and a bit spaced out. He sometimes says really deep stuff and then comforts you so gently that your problems just melt away.

That’s…That’s what androids are supposed to be right?

Without even realizing, Hansol had already wrapped his arms around your waist. It was only until you were done with your internal monologue that you realized the warmth you felt from behind you.

“Wha-what are you doing!” You exclaimed, though still unable to move because of how he was holding on to you tightly.

“Oh, this?” he began, completely oblivious to your embarrassment. “I’m embracing you. I wanted to know if it feels as warm as what the cloud tells me.”

You groaned, struggling to get free. “Don’t patronize me! I know what a freakin’ hug is! Now, let me go!”

Instead of opening his arms, Hansol instead pulled you closer to him, making you flush even more. “Sorry. Just endure it a bit longer. The data I’ve gathered is still incomplete. Besides, now that you know about the empathy organ, it’s safe for me to test it on you, right?”

“What! I never—”

As soon as you met his eyes, you were unable to finish the rest of your words. There he was again with those eyes that just makes you screech into a complete halt. It was so intense that it almost gave you shivers down your spine.

“Do you really hate it?” he asked again. “I’ll let you go.”

You allowed a few moments to pass by—the sound of passing cars and the incessant ticking of the clock was what you could hear, as well as your faint breaths.

“Fine. Do whatever you like,” you finally conceded and leaned against chest. It was warm.

With a calm smile, he nuzzled against your shoulder. “How did you get that injury?”

“Oh, this? I almost got my head whacked by an android,” you replied plainly, almost forgetting that you were actually having a bad day because of what had happened.

“That’s unusual.”

“You could say that again. I just got…distracted.”

Hansol raised his brows at your reply; noting the pause between your words. Since he cannot place his chin on your head, he decided to prop himself on your shoulder, his lips near your ear.

“Was it because of me?”

You jumped at the sound of his voice being so near to your ear. It made you ticklish and pulled back away from him just for a tiny bit.

“You’re too close!” you exclaimed, flushed and uncharacteristically nervous. “And I didn’t get distracted because of you!”

He sighed at your response. “Sorry. But I’m glad it wasn’t because me. I’ll be troubled if I distract you from your work.”

Pursing your lips, you only returned to your original position in silence. You have been distracted me from work since the beginning.

“Maybe I can help you?” Hansol continued talking when you didn’t reply.

“With what?” you chuckled cynically. “Hunting androids? Don’t you feel bad about killing your own kind?”

“Well, some humans don’t feel bad if they kill other people. What’s the difference?”

You scoffed. “Touché,”

“I’ll help you if you’re in trouble.” He pressed on and you could only groan in exasperation. While he tends to be a bit spacey, he can also be stubborn. It’s not like you can stop him if you refused.  

“You’re weirdly obstinate—”

About to add an explanation, your words were cut short however by the doorbell. You stood up to get it but got dizzy from the sudden change that Hansol decided that you better sit down and rest.

As he padded his way across the living room, Hansol opened the door to see no one except for a bag of food on the ground. He tried to look around and assessed the surroundings, yet he found nothing suspicious.

Confused, he leaned his head to the side and eventually decided to take the food inside. It didn’t seem harmful.

“Wonder who that was,” he muttered before going back inside.

As a freeloader, Hansol took it upon himself the responsibility of maintaining your apartment in tip-top shape. From the floor to the ceiling; to every nook and cranny he finds—he made sure that everything was sparkling clean to the point that you thought you went to a different apartment when you went home.

It was easy to pretend he was a regular every day helper android since he always kept to himself at most times, and other than visiting a regular antique vinyl shop in an indefinite area of the city, he never really did anything out of the blue.

Hansol had two leeks, one in each hand as he assessed which one was the best using his state-of-the-art processor. The engineers at the labs probably never thought his military grade processor would be used in this way but it was extremely helpful. He tossed the one on his left to his grocery cart and the other back to the stall—concluding that it was already at 40% freshness and most of the chlorophyll and other biominerals had died out.

One of his responsibilities was making sure that groceries and other supplies in your apartment were well-stocked. And while it did make you furious at how he easily hacked into your bank account to access money, you eventually gave him permission to go on grocery trips for you because of how he efficiently did everything.

He turned his cart to the left, its squeaky rusting wheels making it hard to keep it moving in a straight line.

Next stop was the chicken aisle. He remembers seeing a photo of you in the cloud as you enjoyed a bucket of chicken nuggets, and he plans to make them for dinner that night. Halting the troublesome cart before the freezers, Hansol checked the display if there were any of the chicken nuggets he wanted to buy.

“This one’s too expensive…” he told himself in contemplation.

“Hi! I’m Martin of Fresh Daily Chicken! How may I help you?”

And there were those androids again.

Hansol knew they were just following their program but it was getting on his nerves. They kept on bothering him every single time he went out that it was very tempting to just dissemble them in front of his eyes.

“I’m fine, Martin. You can go help someone else,” he replied, wondering if there was an edge to his tone as he returned the chicken back to the freezer.

Instead of leaving though, Martin gripped Hansol’s arm tightly, as the other stopped and glared at the android with suspicion. In a beat, Hansol flicked his hand away and stood still for a moment, assessing the situation at hand. Nanoseconds pass, he finally realized what was happening.

“Joshua. What are you doing here?”

His voice was filled with animosity; his eyes like fire flickering. Hansol knew his brother was up to no good as soon as he showed up using a hacked android.

“Sharp as ever, aren’t we?” the android replied, the tone of its usual monotonous voice reflecting the malice of the hacker behind it all. “I guess I should expect no less from an android made to evaluate things.”

Hansol wasn’t having any of this small talk. “If you don’t have anything important to say, I’m leaving.”

“And what? Play house with your bounty hunter?” the android sneered. “She doesn’t trust you as much as you trust her, you know?”

Hansol threw daggers at the android with his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

It made a rather hollow chuckle. “Did you forget how despicable humans are? She’s planning on retiring you and your pleading won’t help you now. That’s why…”

“That’s why what?” Hansol felt uneasy.

“That’s why I’ll help you finish her off first.”

Like the wind howling, the android’s words felt like a siren blaring right into his ears. If he had any blood, it would’ve been boiling by now. If only looks could kill, the android would’ve been long dead.

“No. I don’t need your help and I never will. Get fuck out of here before I—”

“Fine, fine,” it responded rather dismissively, unperturbed by Hansol’s threats. “But if you need me, I’m just one call away.” 

And just like that, Joshua disappeared. “Hi! I’m Martin of Fresh Daily Chicken! How may I help you?”

Hnasol sighed and returned to his grocery shopping.

“Empathy organ?”

A boisterous laugh was all you could hear across the otherwise silent donut shop. You frowned, clearly annoyed.

“Didn’t know ya believe in those bullshit urban legends, YN.” Your boss replied, crumbs falling down his shirt, and thus has been looked at disgustedly by the people around you.

“Just answer the damn question, please,” you replied, giving him a not-too-pleased expression.

“What can I say?” he shrugged, “It ain’t real.”

You hold off clicking your tongue, and instead averted your gaze to the window beside you, towards the quiet concrete and asphalt streets of West Mars. Thinking that you could achieve something by bribing your boss with donuts, was a dashed dream. He easily dismissed the notion, now munching on some more donuts you had bought with your own pay.

“Doesn’t matter if it’s real or not. I just want to hear what you know about it,” you insisted, pushing your plate of donuts to his side.

He gulped in some coffee. “Well, for one, we don’t know where it is. Rumors say it was made by an engineer in the org, and they died without telling anyone.”

An engineer in the org? You felt like you have two pieces of the puzzle right below your nose, yet you couldn’t wad through the multitude of memories you had.

“Some say it was silently waiting in that engineer’s lab, but not gonna lie, doll, I myself don’t think it’s in there. Can’t be too easy,” he eagerly chomped on a bavarian. “It was prolly never built, kinda a blueprint of some sort.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Your boss chuckled again. “It’s just not possible! Look, have you ever heard of the phrase ‘good in theory but not in practice’? It’s just like that. You can’t build something science can’t even understand.”

You slumped on your chair, disappointed at his replies.

“C’mon now, doll. Stop digging around urban legends and focus on getting more andys to retire,” he continued when you didn’t reply. “Besides, you still got that SVT andy on your plate, don’t ya? Better set your eyes on that. These military grades ain’t just your ordinary tin foil man.”

Sighing, you silently berated yourself for letting this situation go out of hand.

“Alright. I’m still working on it though.”

You really weren’t. The fact that Hansol was still alive and kicking after several months since you the assignment dropped to your lap was proof that you were procrastinating. And becoming weaker.

You cursed yourself.

“Just a little warning for you. These andys, like the SVT line, are notoriously good at analog hacking. So, do be careful with handling them. Just because they told you you’re friends, ain’t gonna stop them from killin’ you when it suits them. They’re smarter than you’d expect.”

Pursing your lips, you felt your boss’ words weigh down upon you like a pile of stones.

You shouldn’t have trusted Hansol.

It was a gamble you shouldn’t have made in the first place.

The sun was already high and bright; blinding your eyes with its garish lighting as you stood before an android you just made into Swiss cheese with the number of holes you created a few seconds ago. Kicking off the dead weight, you decided to find the other one.

Another day out in the field means another chance to falter and fail even in a simple mission. You had already hesitated once and it had cost you a head injury. If you hesitate again, what would it cost you this time around?

It was getting into your nerves.

Was it truly wise to trust Hansol all this time?

Even if he had no intention of hurting you, it was your job to retire runaway andys before they harm anyone. Therefore, it makes sense to shoot him dead with a laser gun; no questions asked.

Then what was stopping you?

You stalked the andy a few meters away from you like a lion in a hunt; eyes laser focused and ears picking up every minute shuffle. The laser guns on both your hands were ready to shoot yet it wasn’t the right time or place.

Running a few meters away, you shot a few laser beams into the air; the sound echoing across the apartment rooftops in resounding waves. Your target tensed up; alarmed at how the sound was nearby.

You laid your trap.

The android began calculating the most efficient way out and then stood up from its hiding place, unaware that it was the moment you were waiting for. It jumped towards the nearest building and crouched beside a water tank, sniffing the air of your presence.

You grinned. “Looking for me?”

The android looked up, its eyes blank but you knew it was surprised. With two laser guns on both your hands, you aimed at it from the top of the water tank, the sun casting a glare over you. Lunging from its position, it made a narrowing escape as it sacrificed one leg to a laser beam.

It was all over.

You caught up and then threw it to the ground with one harsh kick. Stepping over its torso; effectively pinning it down, you took one good look.

“Did you know that it takes about three minutes for the Nexus 7 processor to calculate the next best move?” you told the android, despite knowing it wouldn’t really listen to you. “Enough time for me to set you up.”

“In the past, it only took you a minute.”

The android rebuked you, making you scrunch up your brows. How the hell did it know that?

“You’ve grown weaker, bounty hunter,” it continued, a grin creeping up to its lips; making its rather soulless expression more unnerving. “Could it be that you like us now?”

“Shut up,” you replied, aiming the two guns at its head. “That’s not going to stop me from retiring you.”

“What if I beg for my life then? Will you spare me now?”

You stopped.

The hands clutching your guns became unsteady. Its words zeroed in at your predicament just like how you had obliterated its leg with numerous laser beams—mocking you; taunting you with your weakness for Hansol.

“You think you could separate androids into your moralistic categories of good and bad? That android is only using you, you know? Like poison, gradually weakening your resolve until you could no longer pick up your laser gun. And when that time comes, he would strike and he will kill you.”

Your temper flared up.

You pressed the triggers furiously, your foot holding it still as laser after laser shot through its head. Even if the head was no longer recognizable, you continued to shoot just to please the rage and frustration weighing inside of you.

As the concrete beneath your feet began to weaken, you eventually stopped; realizing what you were doing all this time. Breaths heavy and eyes wide, you stared at the android which became, more or less, bits and pieces of burnt metal and hydraulic cables.

It still irritated you, so kicked it as far as you could so you wouldn’t be able to see it.

When you returned to the office to hand over the post-hunt report, Morrison was waiting for you t your desk; the serious and alarmed look on his face making you anxious.

“Morrison,” you acknowledged him, tossing your report to your table as well as your various work equipment. “What brings you here?”

“YN. We need to talk,” he replied, his tone of voice not so different that you had originally assumed which only heightened the tension of the situation.

As you followed behind him, you wondered what he wanted—was it about your dwindling work performance? Are you getting fired?

You only knew the answer to your questions when he stopped by a deserted hallway and then faced you. It was all your fears could ever hope for.

“Please tell me YN, that the person living in your apartment isn’t the SVT andy, Vernon.”

Your heart, along with your gut immediately dropped.

“W-what…”

“A few months ago, I saw you with someone walking around the city. I thought it was your boyfriend so I ignored it. The other day however, I heard you got injured so I went and delivered you dinner. That’s when I realized that the person you’re with was the SVT andy.”

If only the ground could swallow you whole. If only you could disappear at that exact moment. You had no explanation. You had been found out. You had nothing in your defense and the only thing you could do was hang your head low and avert your gaze out of guilt and shame.

“YN…”

“I’m sorry…” you replied, voice just above a whisper.

“Is that andy holding you hostage? Is it threatening you?” Morrison asked out of concern as soon as he saw you. “I could help—”

“No. This is my own doing,” you replied. “This is my own fault.”

“Then…why?” he asked. “Among all of us here, you were the one who hated them the most. Have you become sentimental towards them?”

“How the hell would I know!” You screamed as you tremble in both rage and despair. “Do I look like I’m enjoying it right now? Look at how weak I’ve become! Look how I almost died just because I hesitated to pull the trigger!”

“YN…I—”

“Shut up. All of you shut up,” you cut him off. “This is my problem and I’ll solve it on my own.”

Turning to the side, you marched down the hallway and left Morrison stunned and worried about you.

You tightened your fists until your knuckles turned white. Guilt, shame, anger—everything swirled inside of you like a thick soup; slowly pushing you downwards to a spiral of turmoil.

Androids would always be androids no matter what they say. Hansol was only using the way he knew he would survive. Even if it meant deceiving you.

You were angry.

More to yourself than anybody however.

How could you let yourself be swayed by an android’s sweet talking? You felt like an idiot; trusting his words, getting soft and sentimental for a mere android. You were weak and you hated it. Like slow moving magma, your rage was scalding you from the inside until you could no longer bear it. You pushed pass the entrance way and escaped to the streets of West Mars.

How could you be so susceptible? How could you allow him to easily manipulate you using your own desperate need for companionship? How could you allow yourself to succumb to such a baser kind of human emotion?

As a bounty hunter, you should’ve tossed all of them aside a long time ago. You should’ve been erased that weakness when you first began.

Yes, it was lonely. But in order to succeed, one must be alone on top of the mountain with no one to depend on.

You allowed the day to pass you by. As the afternoon became night and the flashing lights of the city returned to illuminate the streets with animations at a million frames per second, you sat high above a building and watch it al unfold like flowers blooming at night. As the dark skies slowly encroached the sunset reflecting the red dunes of Mars, you waited for the exact moment to solve all of your problems.

Problems of your own doing is something you have to solve by yourself. It was your fault that you believed in him when you clearly knew you shouldn’t have. Even if it weighs your heart, the guilt you felt was heavier.

You shouldn’t have allowed things to get to this point. Thus, you reap what you sow.

Head still swimming, you returned to your apartment at the wee hours of the morning. It was the perfect time; the calculated time—because you knew Hansol was at the living room, charging up next to a wireless charging station he himself had built. You saw him at that exact position; sitting, leaning against the wall with head hung low as a circular light glowed underneath the skin of his nape.

You knew what you have to do.

He was defenseless before you; asleep and unaware of what you are about to do. It was perfect this way— he couldn’t say anything, he couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t feel anything.

As you looked at his sleeping figure, you couldn’t help but notice how his now dark hair tumbling against his forehead in a soft caress, how his long eyelashes padded gently across his skin, how his soft breaths echoed across the room. Even at these last moments, he still caught you off guard.

Yet beautiful things erode and fade away like the fleeting spring.

You raised the laser gun to his forehead, your finger already by the trigger.

You can do it YN. Just one press and he’ll be gone. All your problems will be gone, and you’ll be able to return to your everyday life. You’ve done this so many times already.

He’s only an android.

‘…Vernon is my model name, but I want to go by my own name.’

He can be easily manufactured again and again like a replaceable object.

‘…As an android who isn’t exactly ‘alive’, I’d like to know what mark I would leave.’

Your hands trembled as your chest tightened into a vice grip. You couldn’t breathe.

Stop it.

He’s only using you for his own means. You don’t matter to him.

‘I’ll be your friend.’

‘Maybe I just want to make that sad look on your face disappear.’

He looked so peaceful, so innocent and so forgiving. Not like you who had been dirtied by the sins of humanity. You knew that even if you shot him, he would still smile and say ‘I understand.’

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!

He’s just faking everything. He’s just deceiving you YN.

‘Thank you for trusting me.’

You screamed one painful cry; your knees giving way and sunk to the carpet in a thud. Hands propping you up as tears continued to stream down your face, you couldn’t stop crying all the pain you held inside for all these years. It was too painful.

You can’t do it.

“Just kill me now, goddamn it!” you shouted yet your eyes were looking at the floor, too scared to know if he was awake or not. “If you’re planning to kill me eventually, then do it now! Kill me now while I still trust you!”

In the midst of your endless sobs, you felt strong arms pull you into a tight embrace; wrapping you with all the love and warmth he could muster in one single action. You could only bury yourself to his chest, clutching to his shirt as if you were holding on to him for support.

“Kill me now, Hansol…”

“I won’t kill you YN. I have no intentions of ever hurting you,” he whispered as he brushed your hair gently with his fingers.

“How could you fucking say that!” you exclaimed; screams muffled. “I keep on hurting you! Hell, I even pointed a gun to you while you were sleeping! How…how could you just forgive me like that…”

“You only did what you needed to do, and if you need to kill me, then I wouldn’t mind dying. I understand that there are things you must sacrifice.”

As soon as you heard those words, you looked up to him with aghast. You could see that despite what he had said, you saw a flicker of pain in his eyes; a sadness that was accepted because there are things you simply cannot change.

“W-why…?” you asked as your heart poured out for him. “Why are you saying that even though it hurts you…?”

Hansol made a small smile and wiped away the tear stains away from your cheeks. “Because you’re the first person who ever trusted me, and it made me so happy to stay by your side all this time. That’s why even if it hurts, I feel relieved that I can at least make you happy in return.”

Stabbing pain filled your chest as if you were being pierced through by laser beams numerous times. You could feel yourself tremble as tears threatened to spill from your eyes once again; grasping to his shirt as if he might slip away any time soon.

“You fucking idiot…!” you muttered through your sobs. “You think I can still retire you after saying that? I can’t do it. I can’t…Hansol…I don’t know how or why but you matter so much to me now.”

His hand that was on your cheeks continued to caress you as gently as he could; not letting you go until you stopped crying. For some reason, he felt touched that you were pouring out all of your thoughts to him among all people in the world.

“I always kept myself so busy all this time just to distract me from all the loneliness I was feeling. I always try to be tough and cold so that my emotions wouldn’t get the best of me. But…but you showed me something I had thrown away a long time ago. You cared for me even though I tried to kill you so many times and it hurts so much how you are able to forgive me like that. I don’t deserve any of these, Hansol. I don’t deserve you.”

As he comforted you, he could feel his chest swell with so much emotion. You were crying for him, and he couldn’t help but share a bit of that pain as well. Picking up your hand, he slowly intertwined his fingers around yours and gazed at you with those eyes that easily seized you; body and soul.

“I feel like I should be saying something now but I don’t know what,” he whispered. “That’s why, I’ll just show you how I feel.”

Cupping your cheek with his hand, Hansol slowly reduced the distance between the two of you until his lips met yours in a soft and gentle kiss. It was warm and peaceful and light—as if everything which held you down were released and swept away by the cool breeze. You held on to his hand tightly, never letting go of this exact moment as you etched it vividly into your memory.

As the both of you pulled away, you gave him a small bashful smile.

“I think ‘I like you’ would be the best thing to say,” you whispered to him as he gave a toothy grin.

“You finally smiled,” he remarked as he allowed your foreheads to touch.

“Because of you.”

The both of you stayed that way until you felt your heart calm down. That night seemed to have uprooted all of your being—everything that you have built upon yourself for all these years was turned upside down. It was like a transformation; yet rather than frightening, it felt cathartic in some sense.

“Say, YN,” Hansol started, breaking the companiable silence the two of you shared. “Why did you become a bounty hunter?”

“Hm?” you hummed, gazing at your carpet as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “Good question. Why did I become a bounty hunter?”

“You don’t know the answer?”

“I do know why,” you replied as you became more contemplative. “I think I was just too angry at the world. Angry that I was all alone; angry that no one really cared. So, I searched for ways to release that anger. That’s when I found myself wanting to be a bounty hunter.”

He pulled you closer, nuzzling to your shoulder; wanting to give comfort to the both of you. “Did you grow up like that?”

Amused by his question, you chuckled. “The thing is, when you are made from a glass incubator, it feels like you’re an artificial existence. Even if there are parents or siblings, most of them just kind of want to play house or something. When they’re done, you get thrown out. That’s it. And somehow just like that, I ended up all alone.”

Hansol was quiet, feeling like you weren’t done talking yet.

“When I met you…when I got to spend time with you, it felt like I was in a foreign territory. I wasn’t used being taken care of. It’s always just me so, I was scared as fuck that maybe this wonderful thing wouldn’t really last. That maybe you were just deceiving me and I was being an idiot for believing that life would finally give me some slack.”

You continued. “That’s why, I thought…let’s just end this with my own two hands. That way I can still have my dignity intact.”

As soon those words left your lips, the android embracing you hugged you tighter—a silent declaration that he was never going to let you go; that you deserved better and he will give everything just to make you happy.

“I don’t think I can ever leave you, YN. I was lucky that it was you who I met that night. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to understand myself or what I was feeling. I wouldn’t be able to experience a normal everyday life if I hadn’t met you. You have become someone important to me as well.”

At that night, as you finally fell asleep on Hansol’s shoulders, he easily carried you to your bed and gently laid you there without making a sound. Unable to resist, he slipped under the covers and silently watched your chest breathing in and out.

It was the first time he felt this way. It was unbelievable.

Combing your hair as softly as he could, Hansol contemplated this future with you. He was incredibly happy, if that was how the beautiful feeling in his chest should be called—how you embraced him tightly, how you grinned at him and held his hand. Those were things he could never forget.

With that said, he had to ensure that everything would stay as it is as long as it could. Using the built-in network among the SVT-line androids, he made a call.

Beep. Beep.

Click.

“Hello, brother? It’s me, Hansol. I need your help.”

The sun was still shining like any other day; as if it was unbothered by the egregious happenings of your life. Just like how it was during your first day as a bounty hunter.

Yet everything was different now. The anger that you held on to for far too long was released to the polluted city air just like scattered ashes of a bygone age. Now you have to rebuild yourself from scratch; to start anew and live differently than what you were doing all these years. Yet you weren’t alone this time, you had Hansol to support you along the way as the both of you rediscover life and the whole point of it.

That’s why it’s important to cut the few loose strings you had and tie them securely so they wouldn’t unravel in the future.

It was your last day on the job. Your last hunt.

“YN.”

You heard Morrison call you, turning to the direction where you had heard him. You were about to leave with your hovercraft to the designated location where the andy was reported yet he had stopped before you ever could.

“Last time, I—”

“It’s ok,” you cut him off. “I think I needed it to realize what I truly want to do with my life. Being a bounty hunter taught me a lot but I guess we just overgrow things.”

“Are you sure?” he asked you.

“Yes, you could say I was happy with my decision.” You scratched the nape of your neck. “You know, I think I understand now why Choi Seungcheol left.”

Morrison grinned. “Oh, really now?”

“Yeah. I think he realized the same thing as I did,” you replied, hands on your pockets. You just can’t live with anger in your heart.

Your partner genuinely smiled at you and give you a pat on the back. “Well then, it was great working with you, YN. You’ve been phenomenal.”

“Thank you. It was a pleasure working with you as well Morrison,” you grinned. “Now, time to go for my last hunt.”

“Good luck. Don’t go easy on the andy now,” he replied while you hopped into your hovercraft.

“You bet I won’t,” you replied, smiling. “Well, see you later then!”

With those words, you turned on the hovercraft as it slowly ascended to the skies. You could see down below Morrison who was looking up at you with a bittersweet smile on his face. This business was indeed dying.

“Alright. Time for my swan song.”

Your destination for today was in Sector 12, where all the warehouses and cargo facilities were located as they enter the West Martian colony. The andy in question was a normal escapee posing as a cargo boy—which was as common as it could get.

You hoped that your last andy should’ve at least been a little more challenging. But alas, you can’t have everything.

Turning the steering wheel to the side, you avoided a tall building and continued cruising through the sector with nothing much in mind. That is until something entered the hovercraft; making it shake through the skies like a rogue vehicle.

You clung to the wheel as you braced the impact, avoiding getting tossed to the air like a pancake. Still recovering from the shock, you were greeted by a punch which completely obliterated the hovercraft’s UI and had just missed your head by a hair.

Turning around, you saw that it was the android you were supposed to retire today—seemingly fallen from god knows where to your lap. Just like how Hansol just came to you that night. Lucky.

“Don’t underestimate me, fucker,” you exclaimed as you grabbed its arm with both your hands and levered it with your shoulder to the air, sending it flying to one of the buildings below. Taking your two trusty laser guns, you jumped off of the already derailing hovercraft before it plummeted to the ground in an explosion of fire and smoke.

Landing safely to one of the rooftops, you spotted the andy running away from you.

“Hey! Don’t get cowardly now!”

Shouting, you continued to shoot laser beams at its direction, pissed that it was playing some game of tag. With a head start of a few meters and an exceptional speed, there was no way you could ever catch up to an android. The only way you could ever gain an advantage was to play the strategy game.

Disappearing from view, you hid yourself as you pursued it; minding your distance so it wouldn’t be able to detect your presence with any of its scanners. Since the andy you were after had a Nexus 6 processor, it can see you through thermal readings which had a scanning radius of a few meters.

Confused of your vanishing act, the android in question stopped running and looked around. There was no sign of you yet you can see it using a special set of goggles which was luckily inside your pocket than in the hovercraft.

As it walked in search of you, you fired your laser guns to the distance which predictably alarmed the android and dashed to where it came from. And just like that, you were able to lay your ambush—jumping out from high ground and trapping it in place.

When do they even learn? You’ve done this technique so many times that it was hardly clever strategy to you anymore.

You shot it with your laser gun, missing its head in just a few centimeters. That however, was a fatal mistake as it swerved your leg around, tripping you to the ground in the process. Without stopping, the android then aimed for your head with its fist which could’ve easily broke your skull if not for the fact that you rolled out of the way just in time.

Even if your head was still reeling and you were still on the ground, you kicked its torso with both your feet as it staggered and lost balance. You ran off somewhere, picking up both your laser guns as it continued to pursue you.

Man, I judged this way too early.

Now that the tables have turned, the both you found yourselves inside a warehouse complex devoid of any human or andy. It was kind of strange that there was no one in sight except for the both of you, yet you shouldn’t really be wondering about that when an andy is after you with a huge metal pipe.

Now that you think about it, why was it even running after you? And why did it attack you in the first place? Shouldn’t it be running away from you?

You couldn’t find time to answer those questions when a pipe was hurled at your direction, hitting the cargo container you were hiding behind and piercing through the metal. You could’ve died if not for your quick reflexes. Clearly annoyed at being in the defensive, you faced the android square on and fired your laser guns at it as fast as you could.

A laser beam hit it on its chest and then on its legs, creating rather large gaping holes on its body. When you were near enough, you kicked it hard; crashing against the doors of the warehouse which opened upon impact. In one final blow, you shot through its processor at point blank.

It fell down to the ground in one swoop. It was all over. The final hunt was done.

“YN…?”

You heard your name being called by a familiar voice you never expected to hear while you were in the middle of a hunt. In an instant, you turned your head and saw with great surprise the person you had trusted the most.

“Hansol? What are you doing here?”

“No, what are you doing here?” he answered back. “You shouldn’t be here!”

“Looks like the final guest has arrived.” A figure from the shadows appeared; a gentle expression was on his face yet there was something dark looming just underneath his presence. “Took me some time to get you moving but looks like it went well.”

“Joshua, what’s the meaning of this?” Hansol asked, his eyes dark like coal; brimming with suspicion and fury.

“Joshua? Isn’t he one of your brothers and wasn’t he the one responsible for the AI hack that night?” You asked Hansol with incredulity bearing in your eyes.

You were standing there in the midst of it all, mouth ajar and eyes wide; unable to follow what was happening. You didn’t understand why Hansol was there or why he seemed to dislike his brother. If anything, it all seemed to suspicious.

“You’re right, YN. I am one of Hansol’s brothers and the AI hack was my work,” the android calmly replied which made you feel uneasy.

“And there’s no meaning at all, brother. I just wanted to meet YN,” he replied, shrugging with a carefree smile. “And besides, you did ask for my help.”

“I didn’t ask for your help. I came because you threatened to hurt her.”

Hurt me? You dared to take a look at Joshua who seemed to notice your apprehension yet only smiled so serenely—making it even more menacing.

“Ah, as honest as ever, huh?” Joshua replied as he pocketed his hands. “Or not.”

There was no denying that Hansol gazed at Joshua with contempt; the first time you have ever seen him display such a negative emotion. You now wondered what Joshua had done in order to push Hansol, who was as kind as ever, to treat him that way.

“Did you forget what happened to that family of six a few months ago? You know, that one in Palmaide.”

Joshua continued when Hansol refused to reply. You blinked several times at his words, feeling like you were familiar with the story one way or another. At the mere mention of the memory, Hansol immediately grit his teeth; sending death glares to the other android.

“Oh? Why are you looking at me like that?” Joshua asked, and then grinned, a malicious lilt in his voice appearing all of the sudden. “You didn’t tell YN, did you?”

“Tell me what?” you answered back with a clipped tone. “Tell me what, Hansol?”

In the midst of your questions, Hansol could only furrow his brow and purse his lips. He turned his head to the side, unable to face you.

“I-I…I’m sorry. I just…I always wanted to tell you…” he began, his voice unsteady.

“What is it?” you asked again, completely alarmed and afraid of what he might say.

“I—”

“He’s partly responsible for six deaths in the Palmaide Apartments.”

Joshua was the one who answered for him; malaise dripping from every word like thick poison. You could only gaze at him with disbelief and turned to Hansol for an explanation yet he couldn’t even look at you.

“Is that true, Hansol?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper; smelling the scent of betrayal.

“I…I didn’t want to hurt them,” he answered you as he trembled like a leaf in the wind. “Joshua was—”

“I did most of the killing but he just stood there, you know? Watching as I sliced open everyone and bury them to the wall,” Joshua interrupted. “Why the wall you ask? Don’t you think human guts look pretty when displayed?”

“You sick fucker!”

You pointed both laser guns to Joshua who only looked at you curiously even though you were shaking with anger. He seemed totally unperturbed by everything; a testament that he was far from sane.

“You shouldn’t be pointing your gun at me,” he replied as he leaned his head to the side. “Hansol was only lying to you, you know…saying he cares about you. Soon enough, I’ll be dissecting you and he’ll just watch me do it with those eyes you love so much.”

You wondered if the empathy organ really exists; wondering if Joshua had one or if Hansol had one. They could really be deceiving you for all you know. Back and forth, you tossed possibilities and motives inside your head, unsure of who to believe.

In the end, you gradually moved the guns to Hansol’s direction; your eyes meeting his. He looked hurt, but you could never really tell if that was real or something faked. Even if you had so many years of experience, the true test of your instincts was at that exact moment. It was only you who could determine who to trust.

Joshua grinned at the whole situation.

“You, move!”

You ordered which Hansol promptly followed, walking to the left and in front of Joshua. Still with the guns pointed at him, you continued to shout.

“Hansol, explain to me what happened.”

With your demands, Hansol flinched and then bit his lip, scared of what you would say if he told you the truth yet obeyed you nonetheless.

“At that time, I was so shocked—I just…I didn’t know what to do,” he began as he fiddled with his fingers. “I tried to stop Joshua…and we got into a fight. I lost and the next thing I knew I was in the wall as well…”

“YN, I’m…I’m really sorry…I-I—” he continued as his voice trembled and his heart beating wildly. “I didn’t know what you’ll say. I tried to save them but I was too late…the whole thing…it scares me sometimes. I don’t want it to happen ever again. That’s why I want to protect people as much as I can…”

About to say something, the sound of slow clapping stopped you from continuing. You gazed at Joshua who was looking at the whole thing with an amused expression.

“How heroic. You can’t obviously fall for that, YN, can you?” the android remarked, his arrogance obvious. “Don’t you think it’s now time to shoot?”

“You’re right,” you replied with such a cool and calm voice; as if a decision had finally dawned on you.

Hansol feared for the worst but like he said, there was nothing he could do if you decide to kill him. If that’s what makes you happy, then he understands. If that will make you more at peace, then he can forgive you. It hurts but it hurts him more if he sees you in despair.

You breathed in, and then breathed out. With eyes that seem to pierce right through Hansol’s being, you gazed at him with those clear looks as you pointed your gun at him.

“Keep still!”

You shouted at Hansol while the other tensed up. It was not a moment to falter.

In a heartbeat, you pressed both triggers. Hansol closed his eyes and braced for the impact. Even with death at his doorstep, he can proudly say that he loves you.

“You bitch!”

Hansol could hear Joshua curse from behind him, prompting him to open both of his eyes and realize what you had just done.

Shooting two laser beams at Hansol’s direction, you deliberately missed it a few centimeters off so it would instead hit Joshua, who was right behind him. The other was of course fuming mad. Before Hansol could reorient himself however, you grabbed his hand and began running.

“I’ve seen way better acting than yours, motherfucker!” You screamed with delight as you saw Joshua bending over to a partially burnt arm and leg; throwing murderous glances at you.

“What…?” Hansol asked but you only grinned at him, squeezing his hand.

“Let’s go! I don’t think I can wipe him out with just that.”

Dashing towards the exit, you were stopped by throes of androids who blocked the way. You clicked your tongue—totally forgetting that Joshua’s main ability was designed to overwhelm the opponent— and tried to find another way out.

“Ah, even that wouldn’t work, huh?” the voice behind you resounded across the empty warehouse. “I tried so hard to eliminate you, YN. If I didn’t, Hansol would never give up his weak mindset of protecting people. Too bad.”

While he was busy with his evil villain monologue, you were trying to find a way out of your situation. The entrance was blocked and you could take a gander that the whole building was surrounded as well. You had totally forgotten about his abilities, and Hansol couldn’t be of much help either since he was never made for this kind of combat. Oh for Pete’s sake!

“Oh well, so much for trying,” he sighed. “Everyone, you can dispose of them now.”

Shit.

You gazed at Hansol for an answer yet you noticed that he was only standing there with the most composed expression he could ever muster in a situation like this.

“We have to get out of here, Hansol!” you exclaimed, seizing his hand yet he didn’t budge a single inch at all.

He was just staring at one random spot in the warehouse.

“What…”

“Sorry I was late.”

A voice you have never heard before now echoed across the area. You looked up and saw someone standing by the mezzanine, leaning against the rusted railings as if they had no care in the world.

“Jihoon. You took your time,” Hansol responded, smiling.

“Why are you here?!” Joshua shouted, now even more furious at the turn of events. For some reason, you sensed that he had just lost his upper hand.

“Hansol asked for my help. So, I came,” Jihoon replied while you noticed black diamonds floating high above the air and settled in to surround the whole place. “He knew you were bound to cause some trouble, and you did.”

“If you think you’re one step ahead of us, we are two steps ahead of you,” Hansol continued. “Jihoon and my abilities are a good match after all.”

The android who was at the center of it all was silent as he trembled with sheer rage. If you could describe the tension weighing down all of you inside that warehouse, it would be like a dense core of a black hole—as if everything was compressed to the point of singularity. You were very much afraid but you knew you were not alone.

In a quiet voice, Joshua muttered. “Get them. Kill them all.”

Without even waiting for a second, the androids from outside marched in, making you take a step back. As soon as they entered however, the androids were immediately electrocuted; shaking in a frenzy before plummeting to the ground still twitching due to the remaining electrons passing through their conductors.

“Jihoon can easily stop all of those androids. That is his main ability as a tactical adviser,” Hansol explained as he caught your shoulder. “But we should go now. Joshua will probably go after us.”

In one breath, Hansol picked you up from the ground and carried you over his shoulder; sprinting out of the warehouse by kicking a hole through the roof. You didn’t want to be carried this way but you understood why. Hansol was far faster on foot than you; besides, it was easier to shoot this way.

As expected, Joshua came running after you; cursing both your names. You began to fire at him yet he was too fast and the whole ride on Hansol’s shoulder was a little too bumpy. It wasn’t as effective as you imagined it would be.

“This won’t work” you told him, trying to distract the android chasing after you. “At this rate, my laser gun would run out of batteries, and your energy would get depleted before we could ever chase him out.”

“What are you suggesting then?” Hansol asked, climbing on top of a cargo container tower.

For a moment, you were silent as you thought of how to defeat your agile enemy.

“Say, those diamond things your brother uses…they’re the ones doing the electrocuting, aren’t they?”

Hansol nodded as he dodged the iron beams being hurled at you both. “Yes, they’re made of specials alloys that conduct well with electricity and a special aluminum coating to protect it. They can be spread out as far as a hundred meters in radius.”

You grinned. “Perfect. Now, this is what we’re going to do.”

It had been quiet for a while.

Joshua clearly lost the both of you when you made use of a container full of flour to mask your escape earlier. But he wasn’t going back. He was incredibly furious and the both of you needed to pay before he could make Jihoon suffer.

He paused and looked around. Something was in the air but he didn’t know what it was.

Without warning, a laser beam appeared out of nowhere and hit him behind his shoulder; making him stumble forward and almost pushing him to the ground. Before he could even recover, another one came flying from a different direction—now to his left.

“Calculate the angle for me, Hansol,” you ordered; a massive railgun at your grasps. It was a sleek black gun that was propped up behind a cargo container.

The both of you were actually far from where Joshua was at but with the help of Jihoon’s diamond things—as you aptly described it—scattered across the sector, you were able to locate Joshua as well as shooting him from a distance in various directions.

How? Well…

“39.9 degrees up, 5 degrees to the right, yes…” Hansol replied as he watched over your shoulder.

Immediately, you found the right coordinates and fired the railgun—the sound of its energy loading up increasing the adrenaline in your veins. The laser beam hit one of the diamonds floating above you, but instead of destroying it, the magnetic field generated by the diamond bent the laser beam as it ricochets to another diamond a few distance away, sitting at a perfect angle to hit Joshua. Like a game of BBTan.

There were several diamonds sitting just above the two of you which you alternated with so that Joshua wouldn’t be able to tell where the laser beams were coming from.

“Good thing Jihoon brought Soonyoung’s railgun,” Hansol remarked as he fixed your goggles from before; adjusting it so that he can transmit signals to it.

“Soonyoung’s another brother right?” you asked as you adjusted the crossfires of the massive gun. “Is he dangerous?”

“If you’re asking if he’s dangerous to humans like Joshua, then no,” he readily replied. “As a military-grade android, then yes. He’s the true combatant-type. I don’t think any bounty hunter can deal with him.”

You whistled. “That’s scary. I’m glad he’s not the one I was assigned to hunt.”

“He’s too carefree to be able to pull off something like this though, and Jihoon has him on a leash anyway. I’m not worried.”

Chuckling, you pulled your attention off of the railgun and turned to Hansol. “Is he still moving?”

“He’s at a weakened state now. I think I’ll handle this on my own. This is something between us, after all.”

“Sometimes I envy your sense of composure,” you remarked as you sighed. “Don’t die on me.”

“I don’t plan to.”

Just as he had said, Hansol stepped out of one of the cargo containers to face a rather battered Joshua. Using his state-of-the-art processor, he assessed that Joshua was only hanging due to the immense anger he feeling and one powerful strike can finish him off in an instant.

“Didn’t think you’d show up,” Joshua remarked his face marred with bruises and burnt marks.

“I thought maybe you’d want to give up,” Hansol replied. “I don’t want to hurt you any more than this.”

Joshua furrowed his brows as he threw daggers with his eyes at Hansol. “Save me the heroics. I’m not weak like you. I don’t need humans to help me.”

“We’re made with the same materials; the same blueprint, Joshua. You have to accept that you have an empathy organ inside of you, and rejecting it any further would lead you to deteriorate.”

“Don’t make me laugh. The empathy organ isn’t real!” He scoffed. “Jihoon made a wrong interpretation of the data he gathered.”

“I disagree,” Hansol replied. “The data I have gathered says otherwise. It was consistent to Jihoon’s findings.”

“Who would’ve guessed you got smitten by that bounty hunter! I guess I just have to convince you out of it,” Joshua grinned.

Without warning, Joshua sprinted from his position; throwing a high velocity kick towards Hansol’s direction. Hansol immediately blocked it with his arms and clutched Joshua’s ankle; smashing him down to the ground in an explosive crash.

Through the cloud of dust, Joshua hurled debris towards Hansol’s direction which he easily dodged. However, he wasn’t prepared when the other android suddenly flew at his direction; hands outstretched to grab on Hansol’s neck.

Hansol immediately countered, ducking below and grabbing the other’s neck in a chokehold before slamming Joshua back to the ground. He picked him up soon after and tossed him faraway like a curve ball. Joshua caught himself flying and saw himself crashing to the concrete floor; shards of rock and dust clouds up in the air.

“You know you’re no match for me if I use my predictive algorithms,” Hansol remarked as he looked down on Joshua who was lying on the floor. “Especially at that state.”

The other android grinned as he wiped leaked fluids from his lips. “I’m impressed. By asking Jihoon for help, the only one who could counter my AI hacking, then have your girlfriend shoot lasers to weaken me, and then finally attacking me one-on-one where you have the upper hand—your android side is showing.”

“I never denied my identity as an android. I will always be made of artificial materials. But I will not deny the fact that I have developed emotions and a consciousness of my own,” Hansol answered. “We will always be creatures of myth—a cold android swayed by their own emotions.”

Joshua spat on the floor; disgusted by his brother’s words. “I will never be like you!”

Again, he sprung from the ground and dashed towards Hansol.

The other easily countered everything his brother threw at him. As Joshua hurled an uppercut, Hansol dodged and smashed his fist at Joshua’s stomach; the other immediately curling.

“Stop this already!” Hansol pleaded; his chest tightening at how stubborn his brother could be, even to the point of near death.  

“Fuck you.”

Joshua stood up, trying to land a blow on Hansol yet he was already struggling to stand upright. Hansol dodged the attack as he pushed Joshua away, putting in more distance between them. Every time Joshua tried to strike, he only ducked, dodged or jumped above the other.

“You’re looking down on me, huh? You think you’re above everyone else just because you think you understand yourself!” Joshua shouted.

“I’m not! Why are you even doing this?” Hansol replied as he bit his lip. He can no longer bear looking at his brother who he once looked up to.

“He’s right, you know?”

Jihoon’s voice resounded across the area, floating diamonds following just behind him. “It’s time for you to stop.”

Joshua clicked his tongue, knowing full well that he can’t take on both Hansol and Jihoon at the same time. With barred teeth, he glared at both his brothers.

“We’re not done here yet.”

With those words, he jumped off the building where a hovercraft caught him and escaped away from the city skylines. Hansol and Jihoon watched as their brother left, realizing that they must take significant measures to prevent Joshua from hurting anyone ever again.

“Did you do what I told you?” Jihoon asked Hansol, who only nodded in response. “We’ll have to deal with him sooner or later.”

“He’s not going to stop, is he?” Hansol responded as Jihoon turned around and waved his hand.

“It’s going to take a lot to stop him. We might need Soonyoung after all,” he replied, and then stopped walking, averting his gaze to Hansol. “While we’re planning things, you should enjoy this down time with your girlfriend. Things might get a little heated soon.”

Somewhere inside a fully automated café, Hansol was sitting beside you as he observed the people walking to and fro outside the busy street. He had been staying with you since that night and he was more than satisfied to explore his newfound freedom with you.

“So, you quit as well, huh?” a deep voice echoed across the café filled with people dressed in weird latex suits—you three being the only people dressed normally.

“There’s…I just don’t know…Seungcheol,” you replied, looking at your cup of macchiato with a pensive expression. “Sometimes, I get nightmares.”

The other man chuckled. “That those andys you retired might be human, right? Me too.”

You gave a bitter smile. “Humans and androids all seems to identical nowadays. Especially with that new research about human-android relationships…I feel like I’m killing humans when I retire androids…”

Seungcheol mirrored your expression.

“I felt the same. I felt like that for years…and the last one I did, SVT-class Type-07 Woozi…I couldn’t do it anymore. That android was too close to a human being. It was protecting its girlfriend,” Seungcheol recounted, as you looked at a newspaper article featuring a top scientist with a blond android leading the research on humans and androids, on top of the table.

“That line…there were rumors that there was an empathy organ embedded on its androids,” you remarked, relaying a very well-known information.

“He’s part of that line, isn’t he?” Seungcheol asked with a father-like knowing grin as he sipped his coffee—his eyes staring at the direction of a distracted Hansol.

You threw a smirk at him. “I couldn’t retire him. How could I refuse if he asked me to trust him?”

Your companion chuckled. “These andys knowing what to throw at us bounty hunters. But I didn’t regret letting that android live.”

You glanced at Hansol, and as soon as he realized your gaze, he looked at you curiously. “Me too. I think I’m at peace more than I was before. I didn’t realize it, but I was being stubborn.”

“You don’t dislike them anymore?” Seungcheol asked.

“I still dislike all this baloney,” you scoffed, pointing at your surroundings filled with people in white overalls with expressions induced by chemicals. “But I don’t dislike him.”

Seungcheol raised his brows at you. “I’m surprised you accepted the existence of an empathy organ.”

“I can’t deny that I’m skeptical about it, but I also can’t deny the fact that Hansol is different compared to all the androids I’ve met before. He made me realize how much anger I was hiding inside of me. He doesn’t make me feel lonely as this city does.”

“People are living in spaces separate from each other…not caring, not loving. It’s funny, you know?” you continued when your companion didn’t reply. “Androids are becoming more human, as humans become more robotic. You’d wonder what the future holds for us.”

He nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, you’d wonder.”

[fleetwoodmak99]

Primed for Sin (5/10)

SUMMARY: Arthur tends to keep his promise to give Elena space but after days of pure torture from his job and Randall down his throat about the gun, he just can't stay away anymore.

WARNING: SMUT (18+), Loss of Virginity, Dirty Talk, Oral (F Receiving), Vaginal Penetration, Murder, Talks of Blood, Smoking, Swearing 

Hi. So I’m sorry it took me way too long to get this out but I hope to make it up with this part finally having smut in it and it being longer. I hope its not too long lol. I just started school back up and it definitely takes up all my time but hopefully once things settle down I’ll have more time to work on this series. I hope I don’t disappoint and thank you for those who actually follow this story. 

Part 4

It has been four day since his last conversation with Elena. Four damn days.

He did as he promised, he stayed away and gave her space. He respected that sometimes she would need a break from the world but it was a lot harder than he had originally anticipated.

Arthur hate to admit it but Elena practically dominated every single one of his thoughts. He wondered what she was doing, who she was with, when was she going to call.

The downside to this was his brain never stopped so he isn't able to stop himself from falling down the rabbit hole multiple time the past few days. His mother had gotten very ill and had been taken to the hospital. As much as he loved his mother, he was glad she was someone else problem now. 

Arthur walked into his apartment, his legs felt like they were going to fall off as he started to take off his clown gear from being at work all day. He switched on the TV and turned it to the local news station. Arthurs been trying to fill his time with watching the news to keep up with any advancements in the subway case.

To his dismay, they had.

"Police are now looking for what seems to be a killer clown responsible for the killing of Wall Street brokers Dennis Reynolds, Ronald Ponderosa, and Ben Kelly." The female anchor spoke professionally through the screen.

Arthur grabbed a cigarette, sparking it up and took a drag of it as he finally sat down and inspects the photos presented by the police. It was of a fake clown with green, blue and pink laced all over it. The women continued to speak, "only one witness has come forward, describing the scene as a massacre."

His heart dropped. Did she tell someone?

Arthur's thoughts were put to rest when an old man popped up on the screen. The man was short and had white hair already dominating most of his head.

Arthur watched as the man started to make his testimony.

"Well you see, I was going about my normal business heading to work when I saw a man wearing some sort of clown mask running up out of the subway. I thought I heard a women screaming but when I went to check what was wrong, I only found the three poor souls that sick clown left behind. People like that just can't get away with things like this. Justice has to be served."

Arthur couldn’t listen anymore, he could feel his anger boiling. His thought switching to Elena. It had been for days now but he told himself to hold on just a little bit longer. It was starting to get too much to bare when he sees people like that getting more attention on the TV than people who actually deserve it.

There was so much wrong with this city. That was one of Arthur's reasons he wanted to always be around Elena, even when she didn't know it. It was the only way to effectively protect her.

Arthur was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a loud bang at the door.

________________________________________________________________

Randall could tell that Arthur had been acting strange. He's more distant, only caring to talk when someone addresses him. Its been like this for a few days, ever since the city went into an uproar over the subway killings. 

Normally, Randall wouldn't give a shit but with him giving a gun to Arthur and all, he wanted to make sure his name was in the clear. So he made his way down to Arthurs apartment to give him a talk. That was a mistake.

Opening the door, Arthur still had his clown makeup on from work. He looked in bad shape. 

“Arthur!” Randall shouted. “How you doin pal?” He gave Arthur a pat on the shoulder before pushing his was into the mans apartment. 

Arthur’s apartment was filthy. It had clothes laying aimlessly all over the place with a mountain of dishes piled in the sink. Not that Randall’s apartment was any better. 

Randall turned to Arthur, who was closing the door. “Anything new?”

“Umm oh!” Arthur snapped his fingers at Randall as he locked the door behind him. “I stopped taking my medication, I feel a lot better now.” Arthur gave out a small forced laugh but his face was completely dead.

Randall looked at Arthur confused. “Oh okay. Good for you.” 

Arthur just nodded his head, taking a drag of his cigarette as Randall continued. “So hey, I don’t know if you heard but the cops have been coming around the shop talking to all the other guys about the subway murders.” 

Arthur started to tone the man out, not wanting to listen to him try and explain himself. He reached his hand out and started to put out his cigarette, slowing forming his hands into a fist against the wall.

“I’m not saying you did anything but I just wanna make sure if the cops talk to you, we are all on the same page about who gave you that gun.” Randall gave out a nervous laugh. 

That was enough for Arthur to slowly move his hand towards for the knife that laid on the dining room table behind him. Nodding his head in agreement as he did so, so Randall wouldn’t notice. 

“You know, cause your my boy in all.” Arthur now had his hand on the knife. Arthur felt everything he had pushed down the past four days starting the boil over as he made a fist around the knife handle.

“Right. Right.” Arthur agreed before squeezing the knife and deciding to give into his anger. 

Now.

He slashed the knife into Randall’s neck before he could say another word. Arthur was surprised with how much blood came out but he held the knife in place as Randall struggled against him. 

Randal was able to push Arthur off but only for Arthur to grab his head and bash it into the wall. This was when Arthur blacked out. 

He wasn’t Arthur anymore. He had been changing into something else the moment he meet Elena. Arthur was becoming more powerful and he wanted to share that with her. 

Only thinking of her as he stormed out of his apartment, not caring about the mess he had just made. He found himself at her apartment door, blood soaked, face painted and rage filled. 

Arthur didn’t give it any thought and started to bang on her door. This was it. No more holding back, no more space. They were meant to be together and he was done denying himself that. 

________________________________________________________________

Elena sat on the couch smoking while the Murray Show played on the tv. She could feel the smoke leaving her lungs as she exhaled. Michael had gone down later than usual so she wasn’t able to have her normal alone time. 

She jumped when she heard a bang at the front door. Elena looked at the door confused, she wasn’t expecting anyone. She quickly hid her bong under a blanket and rushed to the door. 

Opening it, she was startled to see Arthur standing there. She didn’t even have time to examine him as he immediately pushed himself against her and smashed his lips into hers. 

Elena couldn’t help but close her eyes in shock. She didn't fight against him, instead it was almost of an embrace. She couldn’t believe how her body just couldn’t help but give into him. 

Pushing the both of them inside the apartment, he placed both of his hands on either side of her face so she wouldn't be able to break the kiss even if she wanted to. Eventually she felt the cool wall being pushed against her back, being pinned there.

When she felt Arthur release her lips, she finally let out a breath. He kept her body close, their faces only inches apart. She could feel his hot breath on her face but didn’t dare open her eyes. He placed his forehead on hers. “I thought you were gonna call.” 

She let out a small breath, almost laughing. “I-I’m sorry.” She innocently whispered. 

That sweet voice tore into Arthur like knives. His dick already hard for her. He couldn’t wait any more, he needed to be inside her.

“Don’t worry sweet girl. I’m gonna take care of you tonight. Where is Michael?” She then opened her eyes to see Arthur dark ones staring into hers. She could now see the painted faced man covered in small specks of red looking at her hungrily. 

“Ummm,” She cleared her throat. Elena had to admit, he looked so sexy like that. She tried pulling herself together to answer his question. “He’s asleep in his room.”

Arthur smiled wickedly at her, pleased with answer. “Good. Good.”

He gave her a few more deep kisses on the lip, soaking in the taste before lifting her up and wrapping her legs around him. 

Breaking away for a moment, he asked. “Bedroom?”

She was hesitant. Was this really gonna happen? Right now? Was she ready for all that? She wanted him. Elena couldn’t deny that. After everything, she was still willing to have a relationship with him. 

He waited for her response patiently. Not rushing her. Eventually she gave into her desire and pointed Arthur in the right direction. A wicked smile appearing across his face as he leaned in again. She too leaned into the kiss this time, not fighting it either. They made their way towards the bedroom.

Taking his time, he slowly placed her on the bed. Not breaking the kiss but somehow deepening it by entering his tongue in her mouth. He pinned her there for a moment. He seemed to like to play with her. Their tongue swirling around each others mouth, trying to explore every part of each other. 

She could feel his hands moving all over her body. It felt amazing to have such big hands on her body. They clawed at her breast, her ass, eventually making its way towards her pussy. Elena grabbed his hand out of instinct. 

Arthur immediately stopped his movements, worried that he had crossed the line. She tried desperately to control her breathing and tried to speak. “I-I’m sorry Arthur. I-I-I’ve never done this before.” 

Elena could actually die from the embarrassment she felt telling him how inexperienced she was. It was put to shame when he gave her a sweet smile. She could just melt looking at the face painted man. 

He leaned his forehead on hers. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna take care of you tonight. Just listen to me. Okay?”

She nodded, giving in almost immediately. 

With that, he leaned into her again, completely taking control as he reconnected their lips and started gently taking off her clothes, one by one.

Elena now laid there, completely naked and exposed for him. She felt a sense of vulnerability, she wasn't able to hide anything from Arthur now. He didn't want her too. He wanted to hear and see everything.

She felt cool air hit her body as she anxiously waited for Arthurs next move. He gazed at her, taking a full look at what he picture in his mind a million time before. She exceeded his every expectation. 

“You are so beautiful, Elena.” He spoke to her like she was the only people left in the whole world. 

Elena gave out a small whimper, reaching her hand out for him. He obeyed as he slapped messy kisses all over her neck. She turned her head so he could have more access. She wanted him to feel every part of her. 

Arthur started to kiss his way down her neck, towards her breasts. She ached her back at the sensation of Arthur taking one of her sensitive nipples into his mouth. Her eyes were forced shut when he started to softly started to suck. 

Elena moved against him, jerking and twitching to the new experience of having someone’s mouth on her. She clawed at his back, digging in her nail as she felt a warm feeling starting to pool around pussy. It was something she never felt before but it over powered every nerve in her body. 

She felt as Arthur started to kiss down her stomach. Elena knew where he was heading.

Her eyes shot open as excitement and nerves when she felt his hot breath at her entrance. She came to see Arthur at the end of the bed. His hands now on the inside of her thigh, spreading her apart so her pussy was now on full display for him.

Putting his face just inches away, he spoke to her. "We gotta get this pussy nice and wet for me to fuck."

Her eyes widened from the vulgarity Arthur was showing. She didn't know if she should be scared or if she should be excited.

She soon found out when Arthurs tongue started to explore her, placing small kitten licks all around. It was so weird. At first Elena didn't even find the point until he latched himself onto her clit.

Immediately feeling a burst of pleasure go through her body, her head feel back as she let Arthur go to work. Feeling as he flicked and sucked at her. She bucked her hip towards him, she could feel the burning sensation of her clit being abused and loved every second of it.

Without even meaning to, Elena start to moan Arthurs names. Begging him to keep going as she brushed a hand through his hair, grabbing it kindly and pushing his head towards her core in order to chase that incredible release.

But of course it never came. Arthur was able to break from her grip and stepped away from her now deprived pussy.

Elena pouted in response, now having no way to release herself.

"I know. I know." Arthur caressed her cheek tenderly. "All in good time darling. We gotta take things slow for your first time."

Arthur gave her a quick peek on the lips before stepping back and discarding his own clothes. Elena just notice she was the only one naked until now. A flow of shame washed over her.

Arthur must have noticed the humiliation she had felt because as his clothes hit the floor he started to ramble, placing small kisses all over her face.

"You are so beautiful. I-I thought of you everyday like this and still you outdo my imagination every time. I-I can't believe your mine."

Her heart leaped hearing this. No man has ever said such things to her and now the perfect man was completely bare before her.

Looking down at his package, she couldn't help but gasp. She'd never seen one before and she certainly didn't think it would be that. Also how did he expect that thing to get inside her? It was huge compared to what she was used to.

Arthur breaking his line of kisses to rest his lips back on her for a moment, "its going to hurt honey but don't you worry ok? You are going to feel real good soon. I promise."

It was going to hurt?

Elena never thought it would hurt but she knew she wanted Arthur inside her so she leaned into him. Sticking her tongue in his mouth to show him she was ready.

Arthur chucked at her, his hand slowly making it way in between her legs in an attempt to see just how ready she was. Feeling a puddle of wetness forming for him, he broke the kiss again.

"Nice and wet. Just for me." He then pumped himself a few times before lining himself up at her entrance. “Are you ready, sweetheart.?” 

This was it. She thought. This is actually happening.

Giving a hesitant nod, she sucked in her breath as she felt the tip of his dick dip inside her. Feeling a piercing pain burst through her, she jolted away from him but didn’t get anywhere when she felt Arthurs hands gently holding her there. 

“Shh shh shh I know. We just gotta get through this part.” 

Arthur didn’t even give her time to respond before thrusting his hips into her at a painfully slow pace. Elena practically screamed at the feeling. It was so much to take. 

The feeling of being stretched out by him was so intoxicating she couldn’t even help but close her eyes and focus on the sensation. It definitely hurt but she couldn’t help but love the feeling of him filling her up. It made her feel whole.

Elena couldn’t believe the man was able to fit himself in as deep as he was. She could feel him in her stomach as she tried to force herself to relax. She felt herself clenching against him, trying to adjust when he spoke again. This time, right into her ear

“You are so damn tight. Tighter than I could have ever imagined. I’m going to move sweetheart.” 

Elena tried opening her eyes but some unknown force kept them shut. Instead she let out a small whimper. The pain had yet to subside as she twitched against him but unable to say no, she nodded her head.

This was all Arthur needed to push himself out before slamming back into her. It was slow but strong. Elena's whole body bucked to the sensation. 

Again. Slowly taking himself out of her before smashing his hard cock back into her now drench pussy. 

He repeated this.

As much as the pain wanted to make her cry it was soon replaced with pleasure. The same feeling she had felt before when Arthur was in between her legs, completely devouring her. Elena involuntarily started to buck her hip towards Arthur.

 Now creating friction in between them as he started to move faster, pounding into her. The room filling with both their moans. 

“Oh Arthur! Please don’t stop.”

Elena hoped Arthur locked the door. Knowing her luck, Michael would coming walking right in with all the noise they were making but she could help herself.

Arthur was ruthless with his thrusting. His hands were holding her against him as he did so. Elena started to chase for her release once again. Grinding against him as he continued to pound her.

"Say it." He whispered in her ear, not letting up.

"What?" Elena whispered back. Knowing fully well what he was talking about just not ready to take that step.

"Say it and ill let you cum." Arthur was stir and dominate. It only added to Elena arousal.

"I-I-I," Elena was so over powered by pleasure that it trumped her fear of opening that box, she couldn't help but fall into his trap just to get her sweet release. "I love you Arthur."

Arthur growled in her ear, biting down on it lightly. He then pumped deep insider, hitting that special spot that sent her soaring.  "Good girl. I love you so much."

That was her cue to let go completely. As the warm feeling in her stomach erupted and burst through her entire body. Making the poor girl shake against Arthur, losing control of her body.

Elena clenched hard against Arthur, making the man groan as he too came inside her.

Shit. He didn't wear a condom. Of course he didn't. Elena was his now.

Elena slowly came down from her high as Arthur pulled out of her. Making his rightly place on the left side of her bed, pulling her limp body close to him.

She felt a big pair of muscular arm wrap themselves around her, feeling a sense of protection fall upon her. 

"Get some rest now, sweetheart. Your most likely going to be sore tomorrow and am going it need your rest." Elena felt at peace as she nuzzled her head into his neck. Letting herself close her eyes as she slipped into a deep sleep, dreaming of the man she just gave her innocence to.

[cl-01-kestis]

Shut Me Up - Jerome Valeska x Female Reader | Prologue

Summary: After you go to the circus with your dad, Jim Gordon, and Lee, your life is turned upside down when you stumble across a fiery haired teen.

Warnings: None

The lights and music were overwhelming. The sound of circus music rung in your ears and made you squirm excitedly in your seat. Dancers flew in the air and latched on to one another flawlessly, awing the audience as they stared up at them with wide, amazed eyes.

Your father, Jim Gordon and his girlfriend Leslie Tompkins were sitting next to you with smiles on their faces, looking at you as you gasped and sat on the edge of your seat. Jim had his arm wrapped around Leslie’s shoulder and held her close whereas you sat separated from them both.

“Oh- god” You kept feeling your heart drop as the trapeze artists let go of their partners and flew in the air, petrified they weren’t going to make it but feeling the life return to you when their hands clasped together and the partner had caught them. Jim chuckled to himself as he looked from you to the performance, enjoying the amount of interest you were showing in the circus and glad he was there to experience it with you. You’d never been to a circus before, being an orphan all your life never gave you many thrilling opportunities so when Jim adopted you, your grey life burst into an ocean of colours.

The trapeze artists finished their magnificent performance and bowed graciously to the audience. You, unable to control yourself, stood up and clapped, whistling and cheering like many others in the small stadium. Jim and Leslie looked up at you as you placed your fingers in your lips and whistled loudly, the sound catching a few audience members off guard.

As their performance came to a close, you sat back down and watched as clowns flourished on the stage, goofing around and being silly as the audience chuckled. You didn’t like clowns, you were a little scared of them, so you didn’t laugh and crossed your arms as you watched the clowns continue to run around the stage.

Before you knew it, a fight started between two of the performers and the crowd gasped. You stood up from your seat, ready to stop it, but your father beat you to it when he quickly scrambled up from his seat and pulled out his badge from the inside of his blazer.

“GCPD!” He yelled, the stadium slowly growing quiet as he walked up to the two fighting clowns and placed his hands on his hips.

Only then did you realise this was going to be a long night.

You joined him on the performance platform after waiting minutes for all the audience members to leave, letting out sighs of boredom as you watched your dad begin to interrogate the different circus performers.

“What did I miss?” You turned around quickly to see your fathers partner, Harvey.

“Not much, two clowns roughing it up and a bunch of dramatic trapeze performers” You snarked, earning a sharp laugh from Harvey who patted your back in approval of your unecessary sarcastic comment. The rest of the GCPD had arrived, multiple police officers on the site and beside many performers to find out what happened and who started the fight.

You kept your distance from your dad and stayed with Lee for a while whilst watching different scenes unfold. You heard the name Grayson and Lloyd, something about rivalry and always bickering at each other about the simplest of things.

It didn’t take long for Jim to return to you and Leslie, reassuring you that everything was okay before telling you both that he’d seem to find something important, something significant.

“A snake dancer called Lila, that’s who caused this” He shook his head in disappointment and placed his hands on his lips whilst looking up at you and Lee.

“Well where is she?” You asked.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out, come on” Jim tilted his head to the side sharply, indicating for you and Leslie to follow him outside of the tent and into what you guessed was the homes for the circus performers. Multiple trailers lay settled in the grass and inside were more circus performers undressing and wiping off their makeup. You walked along side your dad and Leslie who’s arms were linked, walking through the trailer park. You occasionally tripped over a bump or digging hole in the grass made by small rodents.

“Careful” Your father snapped at you, taking your hand and helping you out of a foot sized ditch which your shoe got stuck in.

“I’m okay” You reassured him, continuing to walk through the trailer park until your father finally approached one in particular. It was an average trailer, nothing too fancy and quite average looking. The inside was lit up and your eyes trailed to the side of the trailer to see a large red cage with a large snake inside. You jumped when you heard it hissing at you and hid behind your dad as he chapped the door of the trailer. Some shuffling was heard and you stayed hidden behind your dad when suddenly the door was opened.

A tall teenage boy walked out, short red hair with a long fringe, some strands falling over his blue eyes. You felt your breath hitch in your throat, freezing in your spot as he looked at Jim with a questionable expression.

“We need to speak with Lila” Your dad started off in a bored tone of voice.

“She’s not here” The boy replied, grabbing his coat and taking a step out of the trailer.

“Where is she?” Jim asked, adjusting his posture and crossing his arms as the red haired teen slipped on his coat.

“Uh, I don’t know, she was supposed to be home ages ago” The boy replied with a wary voice, crossing his arms to keep himself warm.

“You a relative?” Your dad raised a brow.

“Uh, I’m her son, Jerome” The boy named Jerome replied, still looking unsure about the situation as Jim stood in front of him sternly. You blanked out of the conversation and your eyes focused on Jerome’s handsome face. You chewed the inside of your cheek, feeling your face flush with heat as Jerome continued speaking with Jim.

You immediately ducked your head down and turned to face Leslie when Jerome’s gaze fell on you for a few seconds. His eyes widened a tiny amount when they linked with yours but he quickly dragged his attention back to your dad.

Leslie seemed to take notice of your flustered stare and nudged your side behind Jim’s back.

“Someone’s blushing” She teased, smirking to herself until your dad caught your attention once more when asking Jerome to let the snake out of its cage.

“Dad, are you insane?” You asked in a wary voice, looking at Jerome was he walked up to the red cage and unlocked it, letting the door swing open so the snake could leave and begin to slither wherever is was going.

You and Leslie stepped away from the snake whereas Jerome and Jim stood completely still. All four of you started following the snake as it trailed along the grass and over small bumps and dips.

Leslie walked beside Jim, watching intently as the two of them strode in front of you and Jerome. Your heart hammered in your chest as you snuck a quick glance at Jerome, catching him doing the same as he quickly looked away from you and kept a sensible distance from you.

“I’m (Y/N)” You said, stuffing your hands in your pockets and looking back up to meet Jerome’s returning glance.

“T-That’s a nice name” He smiled, doing the same and keeping his hands warm in his coat pockets as the two of you walked along and continued to follow the snake. Jerome seemed on edge, his body was tense and uncomfortable and his eyes held worry. You wanted to get closer and comfort him but you barely even knew him, you didn’t know if it was your human instincts kicking in or the riveting experience of being involved with one of your fathers cases.

You followed your dad before he stopped dead in his tracks and watched as the snake came across a red crate filed with blankets and hay. You stopped and walked over to the other side of Jerome so you could watch with everyone else as the snakes head slipped underneath one of the blankets and it’s body was climbing up the crate. You looked at your father with a brow raised and felt your hands tremble as he walked up to the crate and pulled the blankets off, revealing the exact woman you were looking for.

Your hands flew to your mouth and sick churned in your stomach, Jerome wailed beside you and fell to his knees in shock. Leslie gasped and Jim simply stared with wide, impassive eyes.

You immediately flew to Jerome’s side and wrapped your arms around him, he spluttered and struggled to catch his breath as tears flew down his face. One of Jerome’s hands held onto your forearm and he leaned into your touch, unable to communicate as he stared teary eyed at his mother’s slashed, bloody body. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, ducking your head and leaning your cheek against the top of Jerome’s head. Jim turned his head to look your way, clearly irritated you were getting involved in someone’s personal life and also at the fact you were hugging a boy who’s similar age to you.

Leslie helped you with getting Jerome back on his feet and helping him return to his trailer before any further interrogation proceeded.

Your night at the circus was cut short when you were sent back to the GCPD with Jim and Jerome, you two were in charge of bringing him back to central Gotham to ask him questions and see if you could get anything out of him. Leslie stayed behind to help tend to the injuries of the other circus performers who got roughed up in the fight.

It didn’t take long for you and your dad to arrive back at the GCPD, you didn’t get far as you led Jerome through the busy office jam packed with Circus performers who were bickering at each other consistently. Jerome was shaking as you kept a protective arm around him, leading him to the back where the interrogation room was and waiting with him outside till it was his turn to go in.

Jerome was a frightened young boy in your eyes, when you saw him all you wanted to do was hold him and tell him it was going to be alright. He was so fragile, so tender. You made successful conversation with him to get his mind off things, you asked him about his life back at the circus and somethings about him, in return for a few things about yourself.

“Y-You’re really sweet, why are you doing this?” Jerome spoke up, holding his jacket close to his trembling body as his eyes looked up to meet yours. You smiled graciously and patted his shoulder, careful not to startle him with too much contact.

“I just want to do whatever I can to help, I don’t know you much but that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna help you get through this” You reassured, returning your hand back down to your side and seeing a sparkle of hope in Jerome’s soft blue eyes.

“You mean that?” He whimpered, his eyes glistening with tears and his lip quivering ever so slightly. You nodded immediately and shuffled closer to him whilst the two of you leaned against the wall next to the door into the interrogation room.

“I know what it’s like to lose my mother, and my father as well” Your voice grew quiet but Jerome heard you loud and clear against all the yelling from the centre of the office. He frowned at your comment in some form of sympathy, he was shocked to hear your words.

“You’re an orphan? I’m sorry...” He sounded so gentle when he apologised to you, looking away as if it was his fault but you instantly shook your head and raised your hand yo cup his cheek, making him jolt suddenly which made you feel a little guilty for scaring him.

“Don’t be sorry, I wasn’t really important to them anyway” You dismissed the conversation casually, waving your hand and shaking your head as he looked at you with some sort of curiosity. He wanted to know more but he kept his mouth shut and try not to make you uncomfortable.

Before Jerome was about to say anything, the interrogation door opened and your dad stepped through with a serious expression, his grey eyes landing on you and Jerome and immediately frowning at the sight. Jerome looked at your father and sighed to himself, taking one of your hands and squeezing it softly before he started walking away from you and into the interrogation room.

His fingertips grazed your hand for a moment longer and he paused before going in, glassy eyes saying a thousand words but his mouth was sealed shut.

“I hope to see you again sometime soon, (Y/N)” Jerome whispered before letting go of your hand and leaving you alone in the corridor outside the room he just entered. Your arm was still spread out, your fingers burning with his touch that implanted itself into your skin. Your dad looked at you with a deep frown, eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head and walked into the interrogation room behind Jerome, leaving you alone for the first time in hours.