#hold me down & still i rise by any means i will survive

[nausicaaandhermouth]

A Kiss For Loyalty

masterlist

young!silco x gn!reader [1.2k][AO3]

summary: You find him after the attack on the bridge, and you're left to figure out how to tread the fragile state of him.

tags: young silco, a few hours after vander tries to drown him, angst, established relationship, hurt silco, not betad

a/n: mid-lecture we were looking at photos of gash wounds and i couldn't help but think of young silco's face fresh after the drowning, so ofc i had to write a comfort fic for him. kinda comfort. it's mostly angst.

Vander couldn’t look you in the eye, couldn’t form a single word. And at first, worry was what overtook you—Silco hadn’t survived, lost in the fight. But the more you looked at the larger man who had returned, the more you recognised something else: the aftereffect when he’d had too much to drink, had raised his voice, had felt guilty. Regret.

You find Silco in your bedroom, curled up on the worn mattress that had held you both some countless nights. It had overheard the visions for your new nation, the sloppy passion of drunken evenings, the quiet rise and fall of breaths during winter. Now it’s witnessing something new.

You’ve never heard Silco cry. Your bedroom shrinks at the sound of it, as if the corners darken and round themselves to hold and hush him. It’s a sharp sting, an undeniably pained cry bleeding into his palm, cupped around his mouth.

When you approach, you’re silent—assessing, investigating, worrying if this isn’t something you can fix. He’s never been so evidently broken. You’re not sure whether it’s about Vander or at the failure of their uprising, both of which had taken a large portion of his heart.

“Silco?” you whisper, taking another step forward.

“Don’t,” he manages, his sobs becoming quieter, but affecting his breath, bubbling out of him in squeaks and chokes. “Please,”

You shake your head, keeping your ground but keeping your eyes on him. He’s refusing to remove his reddened hands from his face, his hair curtaining over his left side, black, wet strings.

“You’re hurt,” you furrow, focusing on the blood down his hand. You rush forward, chest attempting to wrangle in a frenzied heart. “Show me, hey, S—”

“Stop!” he inches away from you, a childlike recoil that makes you freeze.

It’s a foreign behaviour, a desperation he’s never worn, never come close to mimicking. As far as you’ve known him he’s been the opposite. Even in pain, he stitched together a composure so convincing it made others doubt he could ever truly feel the hurt he was raised around.

You suppose that it’s something he’s worked on, refined throughout the years after taking on the responsibility of becoming Zaun’s face, alongside Vander. His ideologies had spilled straight from his heart into your ear. You understood why he worked so hard to maintain a strong face.

That man was gone; he hadn't entered the room this time.

He’s hiding, you see, shielding his face from you. This, you understand, is something he thinks may spare you from even a fraction of the pain he must be feeling. He’s always been so. To hoard the suffering and smile.

“You don’t want me to see you?” you ask, kneeling by the bed and retracting your hands.

Silco doesn’t answer, the chokes of suppressed sobs the only sound from him.

“It’s alright,” with a shake of your head, you turn around, facing the other way and leaning against the bed. “I don’t have to see you. Just… just talk to me,”

You wait a beat, then another, waiting for his voice, willing his voice to regard you again. Anything with a meaning that you could warp into a sign of hope.

“Please,” you add. It’s unintentionally desperate, pleading, giving him the power of controlling where the conversation goes. Something he needs, you suppose, something he’s certain is still predictable.

You hear a sharp breath behind you, then the shuffle of your bedsheets. Your eyes slide the farthest they can without turning your head, attempting to see any glimpse of him.

Then his hand enters your periphery, pale skin against scarlet, fingers twitching and shaking as his forearm rests on your shoulder.

You take gentle hold of his hand, turning it this way and that in search for wounds. But nothing. “Who…” your breath escapes, “Is this your blood?”

“Yes,” he responds, a word that pricks at your lungs sharply.

You see the moment clearer now. A wound so deep that to reveal it is its own pain.

You recall Vander’s face. The shame that distorted his features, how ugly it becomes as you try to piece together the fragmented pieces. 

“Vander did something,” you surmise. Your breath quickens, a sneer creating brackets around your flared nostrils. “Did Vander do something?”

You feel Silco’s breath near the top of your head, but before you’re able to turn, a weight settles over you. Momentarily, you hold, letting the firmness of his muscles process on your body, around your shoulders, his other arm snaking over your bones and holding you backwards to him.

You hear his soft sniffs over your head and slightly to one side, the bone of his cheek pressing against your crown.

There it is again. It’s a spear through your body, the sound of him. It strikes a fissure along your lungs, each sudden inhale a crack veining in your airways, each tremoring breath he takes an earthquake on your skull. Vander, what have you done?

You take his hand and hold it to your cheek, the cool back of his hand against the warm apple of your face. You interlace your fingers, a familiar practice, just as fluid as the locking of legs in the night, or the pressing of palms for a prayer.

Next was the chaste kiss on his index knuckle, for loyalty. Then on the middle knuckle, for liberty. Another on the ring knuckle, for luck. And lastly, a kiss on the pinky knuckle, for love.

It was a silent conversation he and you had made, meeting mouth to bone always easier than devoting a voice to each word.

His other hand wrapped around your wrist, bringing your arm upwards and over your head, your own knuckles meeting his familiar lips. But they tremble.

He breathes a kiss, gentle, on your index knuckle, starting, then failing. His breath falls jagged on your skin.

For a moment he restarts, the warmth of his air hovering over your knuckle. But again he fails.

Your frown deepens. Even more so when he moves your hand and skips to your pinky knuckle, the only promise fulfilled.

“How bad is it?” your voice slightly muffles against his hand near your mouth.

He swallows, clearing his throat. “At the… we were at the river, he—” he grips your hand slightly tighter.

“It’s still hurting?”

His clothes shuffle. “Yeah,”

“Let me look?”

Silence.

You start to think he’ll reject you again, not yet prepared to face you in whatever shape Vander had left him. But he loosens his arm around your shoulders and moves away, his presence at your back fading.

Your other hand remains in his, the anchor, as you shift on the floor and turn.

You look up and your eyes meet. No. One eye meets yours.

You sense his panic by how the one remaining blue jumps between your eyes, tips of his mouth downwards. He brushes aside his wet hair.

The left side of his face had been marred, a trench of exposed muscle, skin, and blood bared at you. The blackened sclera is haunting, a flame moving in tandem with the watery blue of his other eye.

You’re more than certain there’s nothing but indignation gushing through your veins. Yet, Silco remains beautiful. You realised a long time ago it was difficult for him to not be, no matter the state of him. And still now, left eye diseased with the molten of betrayal, mouth frowned by grief, fear in his good eye.

“It’s not over,” he whispers, leaning forward as you reach up and cup the unmarred side of him. “We’ll take back Zaun,”

There he is. No man, no river, could ever kill him. “You’ll show them,” you press a kiss to his index knuckle.

[fastandcarlos]

Victim Of A Bad Day : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: after what can only be described as a nightmare of a day, oscar ends up coming home only to take it all out on you

Your smile was soft as Oscar walked through the apartment, putting your phone down and rising to your feet. You went over to him, holding your arms out, but Oscar’s head shook back at you. 

“Please, no,” he told you, walking straight past you through the living room and into the kitchen. 

You turned around as you watched Oscar walk away, debating what to do next. You slowly followed behind as you watched him grab a glass from out of the cupboard and fill it with water. Every movement was done with a sigh, thudding around the place like a toddler running around. 

“I’m guessing your day could’ve been better?” You asked, trying to bring a smile to his face. 

You stood and waited for Oscar to acknowledge you, but instead he carried on walking around. His head was down as he moved, his eyes not even looking across in your direction, as if you weren’t there. 

“Oscar, you know I’m here for you,” you told him, beginning to get concerned with his behaviour. It was unlike Oscar to be so quiet, to close off from you and deal with everything all by himself. 

A shrug came from Oscar as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, throwing himself down on the sofa. He grabbed his phone, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, almost groaning when he noticed that you had followed right behind him. 

“So, we’ll just spend our evening in silence, shall we?” You asked, perching on the end of the sofa. 

“Suits me,” Oscar bluntly responded, still staring down at his phone, ignoring the sigh that came from across the room from you. 

Your head shook in disbelief at how cold Oscar was, never had you seen this side of him before. “I don’t know what’s happened today Oscar, but you could try and at least treat me with even the smallest bit of dignity tonight.” 

“Just leave me alone,” Oscar requested, throwing his arms up into the air. “Just because I’ve not come home and thrown my arms around you and talked your ear off doesn’t mean I need constant questions. Just take the hint and give me a bit of space.” 

Your body tensed up at how loud Oscar’s voice was, not quite sure how to react. “You’re not you Oscar, what would you like me to do? Pretend that everything is fine? I didn’t realise that caring about you was such a crime, next time I won’t bother worrying about you.” 

“I don’t need caring for, I haven’t asked you too,” Oscar replied. 

Your eyes widened in surprise at what Oscar had to say, stunned by how blunt he was. Perhaps you had been a little overbearing, but all you were guilty of was worrying about him.  

“That’s fine then,” you told Oscar, picking up your phone and sitting opposite him. You sat back, stretching out across the sofa, deciding to switch off to the fact that Oscar was even in the room. 

His eyes watched you though, shaking his head as you mimicked him. “I don’t ever remember asking for someone to worry about me, you know I’ve survived long enough all by myself.” 

Your heart ached as Oscar spoke, the hurt clear on your face as your eyes flickered across to Oscar. As he met your eyes, Oscar’s frustration disappeared, replaced by concern that he was the reason for your disappointment.  

“I don’t even know what to say,” you shrugged, shaking your head disapprovingly, full of despair. Rising to your feet, Oscar kept an eye on you as you left the room and went into your bedroom. 

Time apart was exactly what the two of you needed as you let the events sink in. You were both full of anger and upset, unable to believe that the two of you could ever have such an argument. It was unlike any other disagreement that you’d had with Oscar, leaving you rather shellshocked as you laid down on your bed. 

You found yourself staring up at the ceiling as you replayed the argument again and again in your head. A shiver ran down your spine each time you heard Oscar’s voice in your head, the resentment and annoyance so clear, somehow you being the reason for it too. 

After a while, you could hear Oscar moving through the apartment, knowing exactly where he was heading. You picked up your phone to make yourself look busy as the bedroom door opened, with Oscar quietly walking in, sitting on the end of the bed. 

You didn’t respond as Oscar turned to face you, laying himself down beside you. His hand rested against your stomach as he tried to get your attention, knowing that he had plenty of making up to do. 

“I’m sorry,” Oscar murmured, “the way I behaved then was completely unreasonable and out of order.” 

You placed your phone down, brows knitting together as you glanced across at Oscar. His heart sunk as he saw how upset you still were, guilt eating away at him knowing it was all his fault. 

“I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Please,” Oscar sighed, expecting you to dismiss him. “I shouldn’t have said what I said, I know that you care so much, and that’s one of my favourite things about you. Having you take care of me is the best feeling in the world, I don’t know what I’d do without you around to support me.” 

As your body turned slightly to face Oscar, you could see a faint smile on his face. Knowing that you were at least listening to him was a start for Oscar, hardly expecting you to fall into his arms and forgive him as quick as a flash, but at least it was a sign. 

“I don’t care how bad your day is Oscar; I don’t expect to be spoken to like that. I was only caring, and maybe I was a little too much, but if you’d have just told me that you needed space then I would’ve known what you needed from me, rather than just being shouted at.” 

“I was stupid,” Oscar told you, “there’s no explanation for it, bad day or not.” 

You could see the effects of the day in Oscar’s eyes, there was barely any colour there, letting you know just how bad of a day he must’ve had. 

“Everyone has good days and bad days,” you whispered, “including me, but yours are not my fault. I don’t want you to shut me out Oscar, I want to be able to help you, even if there’s very little I can do, at least it’s something.” 

His head nodded, pressing a kiss against the top of your shoulder. You were spot on, you were the last person to blame for how Oscar’s day went, you just so happened to be in the wrong place in the wrong time. 

“I’m always here for you,” you reminded Oscar, “it doesn’t matter what’s happened, you know I’m always going to be with you, right?” 

He continued nodding as you spoke. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I don’t appreciate you being with me today, because I do appreciate it, more than anything.” 

“Will you remind yourself of that next time you come home after a bad day?” 

“I promise that I’ll never forget it.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[mochiwrites]

couldn’t help writing a lil thing from @plumadot’s arts (linked here and here!)🥺👉👈 third life scarian possessed me so hard I broke out of my burn out for this reblogs would be really cool and awesome okaythankyou

——————————

“And how are preparations for Doom Day going, my good sir?” Scar’s voice is a light sound behind him, tone cheerful and inquisitive all at once.

Grian turns around from where he’s knee deep in sand, a small hole dug out in front of him. Scar comes to stand beside him, red eyes staring down at him. His gaze is soft, far too soft for a man who’s meant to be anything but.

With a soft noise, Grian pushes himself up to stand while dusting off his hands. He leaves his shovel in the ground by the hole. His wings flutter.

He hums, surveying the area. He gazes at the holes of sand, where the tnt will be set down, at the place where a bunker will be built. “Not bad, I’d say. I think this place’ll be ready by tomorrow or some time ‘round then.”

Scar whistles, moving to casually wrap an arm around the green life’s shoulders. “Amayzin’!” His lips lift in a smile. “Man, those Dogwarts guys won’t know what hit ‘em!”

“That’s if this trap even works, Scar,” Grian mutters, unable to hold back the bitterness in his voice. His traps have hardly worked all game, and he’d be lying if he said he isn’t worried about this one failing too. “It has to,” he says, brows knitting together, “there’s too much riding on this one.”

His eyes trail over to Scar, who doesn’t seem to share his worries.

“Aw, c’mon G,” Scar starts as he pulls the other toward him. He tugs so that Grian’s facing him, their faces a few inches apart. Grian can feel how warm Scar is this close, can see the way his chest rises and falls. “I have total trust in you and your trapping skills. So relax a little, yeah?”

Grian frowns at him in turn. Speculation and trust aren’t good enough when up against his fail rate. He needs one hundred percent certainty. But he can’t just test this one. It’s a one time pull. “Scar—”

Careful fingers grab his chin, rough and calloused from the harsh conditions of the desert but still far too careful. Red names aren’t supposed to be careful or gentle, and yet here Scar is.

“I trust you,” Scar says again, and Grian doesn’t think this is how things are supposed to go. It’s not the first time he’s had this thought, and he’s sure it won’t be the last (provided they both survive this, that is). “You really do worry too much.”

“One of us has to while you’re off gallivanting around without a shirt on,” Grian grumbles while reaching for the edge of Scar’s cloak. He holds onto it, fingers digging into the fabric.

Scar lifts a playful brow at Grian’s comment, “Does that mean I look good while valligaggling?”

Grian snorts, the action laced with too much affection. “That’s not even a word, Scar,” he replies with a little laugh, one that makes Scar’s grin widen.

“It’s close enough,” the man hums in answer, their faces moving closer. His hand drops to Grian’s elbow, the other drawing him in closer by the waist. Red eyes flutter shut as his breath ghosts over Grian’s lips. “And it made you laugh.”

“Your priorities are seriously mixed up,” Grian’s voice is hardly above a whisper as watches as Scar draws in closer.

Their lips meet seconds later, chapped and warm. Grian stares at Scar’s face, the way the creases in his forehead smooth over and relax. He looks so content, a funny feeling to express when the powder keg is seconds from exploding.

It hardly takes any time at all for Scar to deepen the kiss, raising his hand from Grian’s elbow to hold the edge of his jaw. His thumb settles too close to Grian’s throat, yet not an ounce of fear runs through him. His eyes shut as he presses his lips back against Scar’s, a bit more pressure than the other applies. He catches Scar’s wrist in his hand, and his grip is a little tight at first (too tight for a green name). He has to remind himself to loosen his hand, but Scar never gives a reaction.

He simply angles Grian’s chin up slightly, hand shifting to cup his cheek. His fingers tangle in his hair, brushing against his ear.

It’s kind of a shame they’re blowing up the desert. He wouldn’t mind sharing more kisses with Scar out in the open chilly air like this.

Scar kisses him like he’s something fragile, something precious. He kisses him like he’s afraid of breaking him, and really it’s laughable how gentle he is with Grian. His eyes say he shouldn’t be.

(Ironic then, that Grian is wearing more red than him.)

It’s with a soft sigh that Scar pulls back, setting their foreheads against one another. So easily, so fluidly, he holds Grian’s face in both of his hands, one of his thumbs brushing along his cheek. There’s a fond smile on his face, and Grian feels a little dazed by the sight.

“Gri,” Scar says quietly, a moment shared for only the two of them, “I need you to know, I—”

Some kind of alarm rings in Grian’s head, and he knows he cannot let Scar finish that sentence. Panic runs down his spine like electricity, zapping him. He sets his hands on Scar’s front, gently pushing back as he turns his head away.

“H-Haha, we’ve wasted enough time, haven’t we?” he questions, some kind of desperate attempt to change the conversation. “We have a war to prepare for, remember?”

He doesn’t watch Scar’s face as he turns away, unable to face it. He turns his back to Scar, wings twitching behind him. Grian purposefully looks down at the sand before him, reminding himself of what he’s meant to be doing. “We, uh, have much to do still,” he says, trying to focus on anything but Scar. “I mean, unless you want me to lose my first life!”

Grian goes to say more, but two hands land on his shoulders, stopping him. He jumps just slightly, startled. Yet it doesn’t last long as he feels Scar’s warmth against his back. “…Scar,” he mumbles.

Arms wrap around him proper, holding him close. He feels Scar bury his face in his hair as the smell of lilacs and poppies flood his senses. “Just a little longer, okay?” the red name murmurs so softly.

Let me hold you for a little longer.

Stay with me for a little longer.

Pretend this’ll last for a little longer.

How selfish, Scar is. Grian looks down at the sand below, its mocking grains. He grabs hold of Scar, keeping him right where he is. “…I’m not going to die, Scar.”

“Promise me.” Scar’s arms tighten around him, giving away how much he needs Grian to stay alive. How much he treasures Grian, both his partnership and company.

Grian squeezes him. He supposes he’s a little selfish as well. “…I promise.”

Scar lets out a shaky breath, burying his face further into Grian’s hair.

They don’t move for a little while. A gentle red name and a green name clothed in far too much crimson. Together they stand, selfishly.

[echo-riot]

(Art is from a TikTok creator-)

Accidental death wish

Synopsis: So, picture this: you’re just trying to survive another hellish day at school, keeping your head down and avoiding the drama, when—bam—you dump your entire lunch tray on Sevika

High school au SEVIKA

Warnings: Social awkwardness that might make your skin crawl.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

The cafeteria is a warzone. Not in the literal sense, but it might as well be with the way kids shove past each other, voices rising in chaotic laughter and shouting. You clutch your tray tightly, keeping your head down and weaving through the maze of tables like a fugitive on the run. Your goal is simple: find an empty spot, sit quietly, and avoid making any waves.

But life, as usual, has other plans.

You’re mid-step, trying to dodge a flying spitball, when your toe catches the leg of a chair. Time seems to slow as your tray wobbles precariously, its contents shifting closer and closer to the edge. Before you can correct your balance, the entire tray tips forward, and with it goes your spaghetti, salad, and a carton of chocolate milk—all of it landing on someone sitting directly in your path.

Not just anyone. Sevika.

She freezes, her shoulders tensing as the chocolate milk splashes across her lap, soaking into her ripped jeans and varsity hockey jacket. The spaghetti lands in an unceremonious heap, the bright red sauce stark against the black fabric.

The entire cafeteria seems to hold its breath as Sevika slowly looks up at you. Her grey eyes are sharp enough to cut steel, and the scowl she wears feels like a death sentence.

You freeze, gripping your empty tray like it’s a shield. “I—I’m so sorry,” you stammer, your voice barely audible over the growing murmurs around you.

Sevika stands, towering over you with her full height, and you instinctively take a step back. She doesn’t say anything at first, just glances down at the mess on her lap and then back at you, her expression unreadable.

“It was an accident,” you blurt out, voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Do I look like I care if it was an accident?” she cuts in, her voice low and cold. She reaches up to brush a strand of dark hair from her face, her scar catching the cafeteria’s fluorescent light.

You swallow hard, every nerve in your body screaming at you to run. But your feet stay rooted in place as Sevika takes a step closer.

“You’re gonna fix this,” she says, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Understand?”

You nod so fast you’re surprised your neck doesn’t snap. “Y-Yeah. Of course. I’ll—uh—grab napkins or—”

Sevika raises a hand, silencing you instantly. “Napkins aren’t gonna cut it.” She looks you up and down, sizing you up like you’re a bug she’s deciding whether or not to squash. “You owe me. Big time.”

“I’ll pay for the jacket to get cleaned,” you offer weakly, desperation creeping into your voice. “I’ll—I’ll replace it if I have to—”

She huffs, the sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “Cute,” she mutters. “But no. You’re buying me lunch for the next month. Every day.”

Your stomach sinks. “A month?”

Sevika’s smirk is sharp and predatory. “Unless you’d rather take your chances with me now.”

The murmurs around the cafeteria swell, and your face burns with embarrassment. You’re trapped, and both of you know it.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Lunch. For a month.”

“Good choice.” Sevika steps back, brushing soggy lettuce off her jacket with a flick of her hand. “And don’t even think about skipping. I’ve got eyes everywhere.”

With that, she turns and strides toward the nearest bathroom, leaving you standing there, humiliated and still clutching your empty tray.

The cafeteria erupts into laughter and whispers, and you sink lower into yourself, your cheeks flaming.

So much for keeping your head down.

[hazymoonlinh]

Lighter x Reader

Lost n Found

Part1

(Just love this place a lot muehehehe)

Don’t mind the pic

(So the mc was lost in the hollow and having a meltdown after her companions didn’t survive)

The ground beneath you felt cold, the cracked earth pressing into your palms as you slumped against the wall, trying to catch your breath. Your body ached all over—deep, sharp pains where the Ethereals had struck, but it was nothing compared to the heavy emptiness sitting in your chest.

Again, you’re the only one left.

You didn’t even flinch when you heard his footsteps pounding against the hollowed-out ground, his voice slicing through the ringing in your ears.

“There you are!”

Lighter’s voice was hoarse, frantic, raw in a way you hadn’t heard before. You knew he’d find you eventually. He always did. It should’ve mattered. But it didn’t. Not anymore.

You didn’t look up as he stumbled to a halt in front of you, his breath ragged, like he’d been running for days. “Hey. Hey!” He crouched down, trying to meet your eyes, but you kept staring at the ground—at the blood smearing the dirt under your fingertips.

“You’re hurt. Come on, we need to get you out of here—”

“Why am I still alive?”

Your voice broke through his words, soft but sharp enough to make him freeze. He blinked down at you, as though unsure if he’d heard you right.

“…What did you just say?”

You laughed—short, hollow, bitter. It escaped your lips like a cough, a broken thing you couldn’t quite contain. “I fought them. I fought, Lighter. But I shouldn’t have. I should’ve just let it happen. I should’ve just let them take me.”

Lighter’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he didn’t say a word. Then:

“Don’t.”

His voice was low, tight, a warning. But you ignored him.

“I mean, look at me,” you continued, a shaky, almost manic edge creeping into your voice as you gestured weakly to yourself—your torn clothes, the blood staining your skin, the bruises blooming across your arms. “I’m a mess. I can barely stand. I feel like hell, and—”

You cut yourself off with another bitter laugh, your head falling back against the wall. “At least I feel something, though. That’s gotta count for something, right? Pain’s better than nothing. It’s better than the emptiness.”

“Stop it.” Lighter’s voice cracked this time, and you finally looked up at him.

He was staring at you like he didn’t recognize you, his hands trembling at his sides. His green irises burned with something wild, desperate—something you’d never seen in him before.

“Why?” you shot back, your voice rising. “Why should I stop? Why do you care so much, Lighter? Why am I still here? What’s the point of any of this?”

“Because you’re alive!” he snapped, the words exploding from him like he couldn’t hold them back anymore.

Your chest heaved, your fingers curling into the dirt beneath you as you shook your head, a humorless smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah? And for what? I didn’t ask to be saved. I didn’t ask for this life—for this never-ending fight, for this pain that just keeps coming. I didn’t—”

“Stop!” Lighter’s voice thundered through the air, loud enough to cut you off. He grabbed your shoulders suddenly, shaking you just enough to make your head snap up. His hands were firm, his grip almost bruising, but his eyes—those red-ringed eyes—were wide, frantic, pleading.

“You think this is easy for me?” he hissed, his voice rough, unsteady. “You think I haven’t been there? You think I don’t know what it’s like to wake up and wish you hadn’t? To stare down that abyss and want to let it take you?”

You stared at him, stunned, as the cracks in his voice became impossible to ignore.

“I’ve been where you are,” he said, quieter this time. His hands loosened their grip on your shoulders, but they didn’t let go. “I’ve felt it. That weight—the one that keeps pushing you down until you can’t breathe anymore. I know. But you…” He shook his head, swallowing hard. “You don’t get to give up. Not while I’m still here.”

You let out a shaky breath, your lips trembling as you looked away. “You don’t understand—”

“I do,” Lighter cut you off, his voice breaking. He exhaled sharply, letting his hands fall away from your shoulders before running them through his disheveled black-green hair. He looked like he was falling apart right in front of you, trying to hold himself together with shaking hands and broken words.

“I do understand. But you wanna know the difference?” he asked bitterly, dropping to sit in front of you, his knees scraping against the dirt. “I kept fighting. I didn’t think I’d make it out. I didn’t even want to. But I’m still here, and you know why? Because there were people who didn’t give up on me—even when I wanted to give up on myself.”

Your chest tightened painfully, your vision blurring with tears you didn’t want to shed. “Lighter…”

“Don’t you dare tell me your life doesn’t matter,” he said fiercely, his red pupils locking onto you like they were holding you in place. “Don’t you dare. Because it matters to me. You matter to me. And if you think I’m gonna let you slip away just because you think you’re too far gone—”

He broke off, his voice trembling as he looked away, fists clenching at his sides. For a moment, he couldn’t even speak. When he finally looked back at you, his eyes were glassy behind the sunglasses , the sharp edges of his anger softened by something far more painful.

“…I can’t lose you too.”

You choked on a sob, covering your face with your hands as the tears finally spilled over. The pain, the exhaustion, the hopelessness—it all crashed over you like a wave, pulling you under.

The silence that followed your words was sharp, cutting through the air like broken glass. You let out a hollow, humorless laugh, the sound scraping against your throat as you stared at him through blurred vision.

“It’s funny,” you murmured, voice thin, trembling, “because I’m the one who’s supposed to be screaming in despair… and yet…” Your head tilted back against the wall as you looked at him, a ghost of a smile pulling at your cracked lips. “Here you are, doing it in my place.”

Lighter froze. The way you said it—so tired, so empty—made his chest ache in ways he couldn’t explain. You were mocking yourself, mocking him, and yet there was nothing playful about it.

He clenched his jaw, his breathing sharp and uneven as he stared at you. The red in his pupils flared faintly, like embers struggling to reignite. “You think this is funny?” he said, his voice low and strained, trembling with something he was barely holding back.

You shrugged weakly, the motion barely there. “It’s all kind of ridiculous, don’t you think? Me, like this. You, still trying.” You laughed again—a breathless, broken sound. “I don’t even know what you’re fighting for anymore, Lighter.”

“For you,” he snapped, his voice raw, the words tearing from him before he could stop them.

Your mocking smile faltered, your expression slipping as you stared at him. He was breathing hard, his shoulders shaking, his fists trembling at his sides.

“I’m fighting for you, damn it,” Lighter repeated, softer this time, but no less intense. He ran a hand roughly through his hair, his eyes never leaving yours. “You think I’m screaming in your place? Fine. I’ll scream. I’ll yell. I’ll fight as much as it takes, because you won’t. Because you can’t. But that’s why I’m here. That’s why I care.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. Lighter dropped to his knees in front of you again, closer this time, his face inches from yours.

“I’ll be the one to pull you back,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less desperate. “I don’t care if you mock me for it. I don’t care if you think it’s stupid or pointless. But you need to understand something—”

His hand reached out hesitantly, trembling before it brushed against your cheek, so light it was barely a touch. “You’re not alone. Not anymore. You don’t have to carry this by yourself.”

Your eyes stung, your chest tightening painfully as his words washed over you. You wanted to argue, to push him away, to tell him he didn’t understand. But the look on his face—the raw, unguarded way he looked at you—stopped you cold.

Lighter exhaled sharply, his thumb brushing against the tear that slipped down your cheek. “Let me scream in your place. Let me fight. Let me carry the weight until you can stand on your own again. Just…” His voice cracked as his hand dropped away. “Don’t you dare leave me here alone.”

You looked at him, your lips parting as if to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you let out another broken laugh, softer this time, as you wiped your eyes with a shaking hand.

“You’re so stubborn,” you muttered weakly.

Lighter huffed out a breath, his lips tugging into a faint, humorless smile. “Takes one to know one, sweetheart.”

The silence that followed was different—no longer sharp and heavy, but fragile, like glass balanced on the edge of a table. You didn’t know if you believed him, if you believed anything would get better.

The world around you had begun to blur—sounds fading into distant echoes, shapes losing their edges until they became nothing but hazy smears of light and shadow. Your body felt heavy, unbearably so, as though the earth itself was pulling you down. The warmth of blood seeping through your clothes spread like ink in water, but you barely registered it.

All you could see, all you could focus on, was Lighter’s face hovering above you.

His usually steady, cool demeanor had shattered completely. Hair clung to his forehead, disheveled and damp with sweat, and his sunglasses were gone, revealing the vibrant red of his pupils that burned with raw panic.

“Stay with me,” he choked out, his voice rough, thick with desperation. “Come on, sweetheart, stay with me.”

You wanted to respond, to say something—anything—to ease that look on his face. But your lips wouldn’t move, your voice wouldn’t come. All you could do was stare at him through heavy-lidded eyes, watching the way his hands trembled as they pressed against your wounds, trying to stop the bleeding.

“This isn’t funny anymore, damn it,” he muttered, his voice cracking as he leaned closer, his breath uneven. “You’re not leaving me. You can’t leave me. I won’t let you.”

You managed a weak smile—a barely there tug at the corner of your mouth—as if to mock him. It was all you could offer, a bittersweet gesture, as the edges of your vision darkened further.

“Please…”

His voice broke on that single word, and you felt his hands press harder, as if trying to keep you tethered to him, to this place.

You could still see him—just barely. His eyes, usually sharp and unwavering, now shimmered with something raw and pleading. His gaze was locked on yours, as though his sheer willpower alone could hold you here.

“Don’t do this,” he whispered hoarsely. “Don’t you dare—”

But his words slipped away, dissolving into the background noise as everything around you faded to black.

The last thing you saw was him—his worried, desperate gaze burning into yours. The last thing you heard was the sound of his voice, fractured and trembling, as he screamed your name.

And then there was nothing.

_____

(I genuinely was having a broke down writing this. Life sucks btw)

[rosegoldrosieee]

so high school

while flesh-eating walkers had seemingly crushed your long-held dreams of experiencing romance as a teenager, carl grimes made you feel so high school.

♡ carl x f!reader, fluff, implied suggestiveness, friends to lovers (sorta), ambiguously alexandria, reader has a spine

a/n: wrote this yesterday hiding in the bathroom during lunch on my school-licensed chromebook for maximum immersion

it was times like these, standing outside on someone’s back porch to get away from boisterous conversations and forced interactions, that reminded you of stupid high school chick flicks with cheesy one-liners, twenty-something actors playing sixteen-year-olds, and predictable love triangles.

you never got to navigate and, most importantly, surmount pubescent awkwardness, nor gush about crushes at sleepovers, because by your twelfth birthday, the dead somehow began to roam the earth.

out of sheer necessity, you’d eschewed any shot at teenage romance for survival skills, and effectively turned into a wallflower when you rejoined civilized society.

a gentle tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your reverie.

“hey.”

there stood the very reason you were even thinking about early-2000s romance movies in the first place: a chronically flannel-clad, one-eyed cowboy, notorious for merely sharing the same last name as the de facto leader of alexandria, now two feet in front of you holding a shot glass of fruit punch.

“didn’t mean to scare you.” he says with a sheepish grin plastered on his face.

“the only thing that’s scaring me is what you’re using as a vessel for your fruit punch.”

“everyone used up all the solo cups so i had to dig around in the cabinets,” he replies nonchalantly, holding up the glass. “why are you out here?”

why were you out here?

…

you can’t even remember.

“i don’t know.”

it’s hard to think, much less remember, anything when carl’s looking at you like that, arms crossed and leaning forward onto the banister, blue eyes boring into your own.

“did you even hear me?” he taps your hand that’s resting on the ledge gently, his lips quirking up with the ghost of an amused smile.

your eyes flick up to meet his attentively. “…what?”

“wow, you’re really out of it today,” he laughs, sipping from his shot glass. “forget it.”

you shift your weight, shaking your head. “well, i’m listening now, so tell me.”

his fingers are fidgeting with yours, you realize. tapping gently on your knuckles. intentionally, unintentionally? it was cute either way.

he tilts his head. “i just want to know what you’re thinking about.”

you shrug, as dismissively as you possibly can. swallowing down the butterflies that threatened to crawl into your throat.

“getting away from this stupid ass party.”

he raises an eyebrow, tone skeptical. “and?”

you narrow your eyes. it was a bad habit, using vitriol to mask your emotions. you were well aware. “what do you mean, ‘and’?”

“‘cause you’re smart,” his lips curl into a smirk. “that’s not all you’re thinking about. you’re never all…spaced out, like this.”

fuck you, carl grimes.

“i’m just tired,” you fib. your eyes drift to your hand, intertwined with carl’s, before quickly looking away. “you’re reading into it too much.”

“only because you’re not acting normal,” he teases, a dimpled grin gracing his features before he adds, “and you definitely would’ve pulled away by now if you didn’t want this.”

you steal a glance at your entangled hands again, heat rising to your face before you ask, skeptical, “what are you trying to do, exactly?”

“what do you think i’m trying to do?”

you glance to the side furtively, tongue-tied, still able to hear the muffled revelry through the shut screen door, before your eyes trace over his features again.

you wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face so badly.

tugging at the collar of his unbuttoned flannel, you shift your weight to the balls of your feet, connecting your lips to his fruit-punch-stained ones.

you swear you’ll never drink hawaiian punch, or any drink with red-40 in the ingredients list, again without imagining the taste of him lingering on your lips.

expression tinged with a gradient of conflicting emotions when you pull away, you open your mouth to say something— and then he pulls you in this time, words dying in your throat with a soft whimper.

the party fades into an afterthought until you hear the screen door open just around the corner, thudding against the frame. quickly, you disentangle yourself from his arms, faces still flushed.

it’s rick, his rugged, stubbled face and piercing gaze (so it must be hereditary, you wagered) flickering between the two of you suspiciously, nodding at you curtly.

“carl.”

thank god for your quick reflexes — those, at least, hadn’t deteriorated just because you were sheltered by alexandria.

carl swallows, freckled face flushed as he quickly looks at you, panic etched on his face. the evidence of your little affair conveniently disguised by the shadow of his cowboy hat and the darkness of the night.

“dad, can’t we stay a little longer?”

“think the party’s ‘bout over.”

you peer into the ajar casement windows, abandoned solo cups decorating the vacant living room, watching abraham stagger into the mudroom and nearly take a shelf with him when he topples forward. rosita, unamused, rolls her eyes, grumbling something unintelligible before dragging him along.

before the grimes family gets into a fight, you take it upon yourself to leave first, retrieving your cardigan that was hanging on the banister. “see you around, carl. bye, mr. grimes.”

both of them wave as you disappear into tree-lined streets, intermittently illuminated by uniform streetlights.

as soon as you’re out of earshot and out of sight, you let out a pleasant sigh, smiling from ear to ear like an absolute idiot as your hands reached up to feel your flushed cheeks, still hot to the touch as you giggle to yourself at the incredulity of it all.

at home, once the high had worn off, or more realistically, ebbed for the time being, you shed your cardigan, scrutinizing the crimson patches blooming on the side of your neck in the mirror, smiling like a fool.

these were the only kind of bites you’d ever tolerate.

[flowercrowngods]

a tiny thing for @eddiemonth day 06: crush & sincere

“I will crush you beneath my heel like vermin.”

Like thunder, the evil wizard’s voice rolls over the battlefield, leaving fear in the heart of everyone who’s alive enough to hear it and rattling the bones of those who aren’t.

Men and women alike, soldiers and knights and able bodied young men, watch with bated breath as Sir Steven, the bravest of them all, rises to his feet again beside the black-clad wizard, his grip on his trusty sword never wavering as he wipes blood and sweat from his face.

There he stands, heroic as ever, meeting the evil wizard’s eyes with a heated glare of his own.

“Try,” he says, standing his ground as his voice, too, is carried over the battlefield. Carried, indeed, for the wind blows in his favour, the sun shines only for him, and the ground beneath his feet holds him up like a trusted friend, a most beloved brother.

Sir Steven reaches towards his neck, feeling the band of leather against overheated skin, a charm resting just above his heart — right where it belongs.

The wizard doesn’t have what he has.

***

A soft chuckle abruptly changes the scenery and rips Eddie into a different world once more; sun glazed battlefields replaced with the darkness of his room, hard soil replaced with the softness of his bed, and a knight turns into a beautiful boy wearing his favourite shirt.

“A magic used guitar pick necklace? Is that what the evil wizard king doesn’t have?”

Steve’s eyes are closed but the smile on his lips shines bright, and Eddie can’t even be mad about the interruption. He reaches out a hand and trails his fingers through Steve’s hair, gently combing back the locks sticking to his sweaty forehead. The smile dims a little, turning into something more genuine.

“I can’t believe you interrupted me at the best part there, Stevie. I was going to make a heroic entrance as a dragon shifter, called to the knight simply by touching the charm.” He keeps up his slow and gentle caresses, his hands trialing down to Steve’s cheeks and neck, where Eddie’s necklace clings to overheated skin indeed. “It means a lot, you know, a charm like that.”

Steve hums, moving closer to Eddie, seeking his warmth and his touch alike, and Eddie can’t possibly refuse him.

“It could save the world, you mean?”

“Hmm. The world. A young boy’s heart. And everything in between.”

Steve blindly reaches for Eddie’s hand and brushes a kiss to his knuckles, and another for good measure.

There’s a weight to their words that’s not meant for moments like this, but it hangs in the air nonetheless, and Eddie breathes it in. The weight of a past survived and a future acknowledging that. Both of them shared like this moment. A promise.

“So what happens next? With Sir Steven and the evil wizard, and with Eddie the dragon shifter. That’s very fitting, by the way, you little hoarder,” Steve laughs, still keeping his eyes closed, and Eddie can’t help but join in, overwhelmed with affection for this boy.

This sunshine boy who’s having a bad day and a fever but still manages to be the most radiant thing in the world. This wonderful boy who asked Eddie to stay and tell him a story until he falls asleep.

“Don’t feel good? Do you wanna stay in bed, baby?”

“Yeah. Can you stay?”

“Of course. Cuddles?”

“Could you maybe… Could you tell me a story?

“I’ll tell you any story you want, sunshine.”

This incredible, insufferable boy who’s too nosy and too sassy for his own good, interrupting Eddie here and there to ask questions or give a snarky little comment that’s dripping with fondness whether he’ll admit it or not.

This boy. His boy. With the smile and the wild bed head and the insistent tug on Eddie’s hand to tell him what happens next.

And so Eddie continues his story about the evil wizard being defeated and the world celebrating the heroics of the knight and his dragon and their unlikely band of friends. If he adds a little Lord of the Rings imagery here and there, Steve won’t know about it anyway.

Before he reaches the end, Steve’s hand goes slack where it’s tangled with Eddie’s, and his breath evens out, the smile never quite fading from his lips. Eddie keeps talking, though his voice is hushed now and thick with a smile of his own now.

He loves him. God, he loves him so, so much, he can barely stand it.

“Good night, Stevie,” he whispers even though it’s barely three in the afternoon. He gets up and out of bed, tucking the blanket around Steve’s sleeping form and brushing one more kiss to his hair before sneaking out of the room on slow, quiet steps.

Outside, Wayne is reading a book on the porch, a cigarette in his hand. Eddie snatches one from the pack and leans over his old man to brush a kiss to his hair, too, feeling far too full of affection right now and needing to let it out. There is a sincerity inside him that needs to be shared.

Wayne lets out a gruff kind of hum, but Eddie isn’t so easily fooled, smiling as he lights his cig.

“How’s your boy?” Wayne asks.

“Asleep for now.”

“Good.” There’s a moment of silence between them and Eddie closes his eyes against the afternoon sun for a moment, drawn back to his story. “You let me know if he needs anything.”

“Of course. Thanks, Wayne.”

“Sure. Just wouldn’t wanna be crushed like vermin, is all.”

The laugh bubbles out of Eddie before he can help it, sincerity replaced by something lighter, something manageable for now as he lets his uncle bully him for telling ridiculous stories to the boy he loves so endlessly.

[wttcsms]

Megumi for knife to the throat but the blade can't seem to cut this weird sexual tension we've got going on

you're the only one that's holding me down, megumi fushiguro ;

pairing megumi fushiguro x f!reader word count 1.3k synopsis pressing a blade to your ex-fiance's throat, and other loving, tender moments content contains exes still in love, slight angst

Staring directly into someone’s face is such an intimate act. 

You don’t realize this fact until you’re straddling Megumi’s annoyingly slim waist, the glint of your blade against his throat causing the sunlight to beam right into your eye. 

Everyone claims that Megumi Fushiguro is the ultimate pretty boy. Mai claims that his bone structure is undefeated and that any sane girl would commit atrocious crimes against humanity to get lashes as nice as his natural ones. Momo says that she’s never seen a shade of blue eyes as pretty as Megumi’s (her only frame of reference, by the way, happen to be her own bug-eyes and Satoru Gojo’s, whose eyes are so freakishly, eerily icy blue that you’re thankful he wears the blindfold twenty-four/seven). Even Miwa, who is too busy trying to earn a living, can take the time to admit that Megumi Fushiguro is the exact type of person the ancient Greeks model gods after. 

You want to blame their admiration of Megumi on the fact that thanks to their attendance at the Kyoto school, interactions with cute boys were few and far between. Todo’s fine, if you’re into loudmouths who could also pose as the poster boy for steroids — or, even better, those clickbait ads on shady websites that tell you if you take this magical pill, in three days, you can be as shredded as him! Noritoshi is so stiff and aloof that no one can view him as hot. Mechamaru is a fucking robot. 

So, the bar for the Kyoto girls’ rating of attractiveness is damn near hell. You examine Megumi’s face and eagerly search for a flaw to hold against him. There’s a faint, barely noticeable scar above his lips. It blends into his skin seamlessly, and you think your eyes could be tricking you. However, you latch onto this scar. Megumi Fushiguro is not the perfect specimen, you think smugly. 

“Let me go,” he snaps. “If anyone’s acting under the effects of the curse, it’s you.”

“You’re not exactly in the position to be ordering me around,” you point out. You have one hand pressed against his chest to steady yourself, the other gripping the knife. 

“Clearly you still consider me a threat.” His eyes flicker downwards, even though he can’t possibly see his hands. They’re bound behind his back, his cursed energy sealed from the specialized handcuffs you managed to lock on him. The last thing you needed was for him to sic his wild animals on you. 

“Maybe I just like this position.” 

A momentary truce forms when you don’t tease him for his cheeks turning pink, and he pretends not to notice that when you realize your accidental underlying innuendo, your grip on the dagger loosens considerably. 

Megumi is fully aware that your bark and your bite are on the same level of batshit insane. He figures this is just how all women sorcerers have to be in order to survive this environment. If you say you’re going to slit his throat at the first sign of him being compromised by a curse, he can trust that you would keep your word. 

You didn’t threaten him, though. Instead, when the curse nearly got a good touch on him, you had screamed out his name. You let the curse get away in favor of tackling him to the ground, and the frenzied look on your face as you searched him for any sign of possession makes his insides twist and heat rise to his cheeks and paint the tips of his ears a flushed pink. 

For a second, it still felt like you cared about him. 

Then, you slapped those restrictive cuffs on him and got on top, as a means to restrain him. He had frozen up when he realized how close your bodies are, how he can feel the warmth from you traveling and enveloping his own body. 

This is bad, Megumi realizes. Not because the curse got to him — it didn’t. It’s bad that his heart still goes pitter-patter every time you’re near, and that he’s hyper aware of the way your body fits nicely and neatly against his own. He knows that it’s wrong to be feeling this way, to want to savor every last scrap of you that he can get. The jujutsu world is small. Nearly everyone knows about the broken engagement between you two. Having the both of you paired up for a mission, especially since your territories are so far from each other, is a sick and twisted joke. 

The curse thrives on couples, intertwining itself with its victim and twisting their host’s love into hatred. There’s been a recurring theme of lovers murdering their significant others. The more love in their heart, the stronger the curse’s manipulation. 

It just goes to show that too much love is a fucking burden, a curse in and of itself. You know that it is, because if it came down to it, if Megumi were truly compromised and wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t have it in you to kill him first. 

“I told you, I haven’t been hit by the curse.” 

“How can I know that this isn't just a trick? You’ve always been good at self-restraint and hiding yourself from me.” The comment is petty, all things considered. In the end, when Megumi asked you if breaking off the engagement was what you truly wanted, you remained expressionless and impassive. We can’t ever go back to the way things were. There’s no point in not breaking it off. 

He scoffs. “Don’t you think I’d kill myself the minute I felt something in me shift?”

You know Megumi. He doesn’t say things just to say them. He means it, every word, and you don’t know why, but it makes the part of you that longs for him — the part of you that is always in a constant state of wanting him, needing him — intensify. Multiply. Takes over your whole entire system until you are reduced to a being whose hunger can only be satiated by Megumi. 

“Idiot. You always go to the extremes.” You opt for saying this, instead of commenting on the fact that Megumi is very much implying that he would rather end his own life rather than take yours. 

“Do you really think I’d ever want to hurt you?” And suddenly, you realize that the two of you are no longer discussing the current matter at hand. Like with all things that involve the both of you, the root of the problem always leads back to your engagement. He was meant to be the one you married, and then he refused the Zenin name, refused most of the traditional jujutsu society, and when it came down to his freedom or you, he—

—gave you the option to choose. 

Him or comfort. Him or safety. Him or family. 

You didn’t realize it at the time, but all choices lead to him. He is the one you are most comfortable with, he is the one who would die to keep you safe, he is the one who you could see yourself creating a happy family with. As happy as a family can be in this fucked up society. 

He hurt you, but it was you who handed him the blade. You, who took his wrist and guided it straight to your heart. Just looking at him right now reopens that old wound. 

“The curse can only change you if there’s love to destroy.” You point out.

“I know.” He says. “Lucky that it didn’t get to me. It would have ended badly for the both of us.”

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 14. Little Girl Gone.

Dahlia has survived and bonded a dragon, but now she must face her father who awaits her back in the flight field. With a dragon very much known to the both of them.

Set Pre Fourth Wing/Books

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist

”It will do for now.” I joke back, his breath wafting over me as he chuckles behind me.

I can’t help but feel a sense of Deja vu as I turn to face him. The clearing so similar to the one all those years ago as I take him in. Only this time he’s far closer than he was that day. Ironically it almost feels like a dream seeing him here in front of me. Like I would wake up any moment back in my bed.

But he was real. And he was mine. As if sensing my thoughts he inhales loudly, his chest puffing out proudly with the movement. His sapphire blue scales catching the setting sun as the silence settles around us.

”We should start heading back. You’ve ventured a fair way in.” His voice startling out of my trance.

I raise an eyebrow at him before taking a few steps back to prepare to mount him. “No thanks to you.” I retort.

He lowers his head, eyes narrowing at me at my words. I know he won’t harm me, but I can’t help the panic that briefly sets in as he eyes me.

”You survived didn’t you?” He snaps at me before extending his leg out for me to mount.

”For the most part.”

I now knew what the gauntlet had prepared us for. The last part almost perfectly replicating the run I needed to do to mount him. Though clearly it was made for dragons a fair bit smaller than my own. I take off, doing what I can to gain as much speed as I can before grasping onto his scales and climbing up his back.

”I can see. You might want to clear up that blood before we head back.”

Shit, I’d nearly forgotten about my nose. I slowly reach up and touch it. It hurts, but it’s luckily not broken. I grasp the sleeve of my shirt, tearing it off to wipe away the blood. I definitely didn’t get all of it, but hopefully it looked better than it did. I lower myself down onto the smooth divot of his back, reaching out to grab the thick ridge of scales Kaori had referred to as the pommel.

Clearly happy I’m seated properly, he bends slightly before launching us up into the sky. I try to hold back the yelp that escapes my lips, but it escapes before I can stop it. Nothing could have prepared me for this moment. But at the same time it feels so natural to me. As if I was made to sit on this dragons back. As if this was what I was always made to do. The sound of his beating wings and the rush of air is all I can hear as we rise above the trees.

As I look around I spy a few other dragons with riders heading towards the flight field. But with how few there are and the setting sun, I know we’re one of the last ones to head back. Meaning anyone still down there is most likely unbonded or dead. With the dragons too far away, I’m unable to tell with riders are on their backs. I hope Bodhi, Austin and Liz made it. No, they did. They would all be down in that flight field waiting for me.

”Why did you protect me the other day?” I ask as we bank towards the flight field.

It had been a question on my mind since Presentation Day. And honestly a question on everyone’s minds. No dragon had ever protected a cadet on Presentation Day. Especially not like that. But it was extremely rare a cadet would have met or known their dragon prior to that day. Only a handful like myself, a child of a Dragon Rider, had seen a dragon up close before coming here.

”I thought it would have been obvious to you by now.” I had a feeling if I could see his face, his words would have been accompanied by an eye roll. Can dragons even roll their eyes?

”Well it’s been a few years. Wasn’t sure if you actually remembered me.” I retort before he throws us into another bank, causing my to fumble for my grip on the pommel. Bastard.

”Little flower, I watched you grow up for most of your life. You might be older but you still look the same.”

”That doesn’t answer why you defended me. And stop calling me little flower.” I snap back as we level out, starting out decent to the flight field.

”I defended you because I knew you we’re my rider. I have been waiting for you since the day my last rider passed. I would have done anything to make sure no harm came to you little flower.”

Clearly we were not giving up on the little flower nickname.

Without warning his wings starting beating faster and faster before launching us upwards at an alarming rate. It’s now I remember Kaori had warned us all the dragons would put us through our paces, making sure we could keep our seat and to put on a show for those below. I sneak a glance to my left, below us hundreds of dragons and riders line the field. Most likely all with their eyes on the last of us to make it back.

His wings stop beating as we hand in mid air, a weird feeling of weightlessness falling over me. I feel the slight change in gravity as we go to drop, but instead of falling with it he spreads his wings beating them loudly as we flip backwards into our decent, another yelp escaping my lips as we start falling towards the ground in a spinning motion. I was now secretly glad I’d barely eaten breakfast as I would no doubt be struggling to keep it down right now.

Just when I think we’re going to crash into the ground he spreads his wings wide, pulling us upright as we descend into the ground. A ferocious roar of celebration echoes around us as we descend. Hundreds of dragons line the edge of the field, as well as spectators who have filled the stands to watch the bonded riders. As we touch down onto the ground, I notice the formation of dragons. On our side are the new first years with their newly bonded dragons. Across from us are the dragons and riders in second and third year. If it wasn’t for the fact he was my squad leader, I would have thought my dragon picked out spot based on the other dragons colour. Across from us is a dragon I’d only heard Bodhi and others speak about. The biggest and most ruthless dragon in the quadrant. Sgaeyl. Though with how she was eyeing us off, I had a feeling we now rivalled that position.

As my feet touch the ground, I’m met with a different set of eyes. The ones belonging to the rider of Sgaeyl. Xaden. He offers me one of his signature smirks and a brief nod of his head before his attention shifts to his right, where another set of eyes are looking at me. Garrick, who has his usual unimpressed look on his face as I meet his eyes. I give him a vulgar gesture which only worsens the look on his face before I turn to my way down to the roll keeper.

”Do I want to know what you’re problem is with him?”

”Everything. Now what do I call you before I make a fool of myself in front of the roll keeper and that thing I call a father.” I snap back as I start down the make shift path down the middle of the flight field where a line of cadets waits to give their dragons name.

”You already know my name.”

”No, I know what he use to call you and I know it isn’t your full name.”

Movement on the dais catches my attention. I knew he would be here. Knew he would be waiting for Dain and I to bond our dragon. I hadn’t even bothered to see if Dain had made it back on my way down. And I wasn’t turning my back on my father to check.

His eyes don’t meet mine. Still too focused on the dragon behind me. I don’t have to be an inninstic to know what he’s thinking. I know exactly what he’s thinking and the lecture I’m definitely getting after I tell the roll keeper his name.

The rider ahead of me finishes telling the roll keeper their dragons name, moving aside to let me move forward. She looks up and offers me a smile. “Ah, Dahlia Aetos. Congratulations on bonding a dragon.” She says as she writes my name down. “For the record, please tell me the name of the dragon who chose you.”

Behind her my father steps forward, close enough to hear the name leave my mouth. I hold my ground, shifting my eyes from the roll keeper to his. The same brown eyes Dain and I inherited. Eyes that I cowered under as a kid. Eyes I had hoped and wanted to look at me with love and adoration while I was a kid. But not now. Now I couldn’t care less how he looked at me, as long as I proved him wrong.

“Now would be a good time to tell me your name.”

”Prothoenor.”

I square my shoulders and lift my chin, the corner of my mouth lifting into a smirk I know my father hates before I announce his name.

”His name is Prothoenor.”

She nods happily, before writing down his name next to mine and motioning for me to move along. I pivot on my heal, tearing my gaze from my fathers. I barely get ten steps away before I hear rushed steps behind me as a hand roughly grabs my arm and spins me around.

I resist the urge to shove my hands out and shove my father away, knowing I will face far worse punishment for disrespecting leadership. It didn’t matter if he was my father. I was a rider and he was a Colonel who out ranked me. It seems the last few days were out to get me with Deja Vu. The last time I had seen so much hatred and rage in his eyes was back in that clearing. The day mother had died. They had he had told me I was no daughter of his.

”What are you playing at bonding that dragon?” He snarls at me as he tightens his grip on my arm as I try to tug it free.

”I am not playing at anything.” I snap back.

”Don’t mess with me girl. You know who that dragon belong to before you.”

I tug again on my arm, finally succeeding at getting it free as I step back. “Yes I am aware who his rider was before me. He was the last family I had left before his suspicious death.”

He recoils slightly at my words before leaning back towards me and pointing a finger at me. “Your grandfathers death was not suspicious. And as I’ve told you before, we will not be discussing his death ever again.”

”You can’t tell me, that sending his squad to an abandoned outpost near no enemy activity and none of them surviving isn’t suspicious.”

Everything about his death sent alarm bells off in my head, especially as I got older. Something never sat quite right with me about it. But any time I’d brought it up I was locked in my room until he’d seen fit to let me out again. And now I had bonded his dragon, I knew his was scared I might find out the truth behind it all.

He goes to step towards me but comes up short as he averts his gaze over my head. Gasps sound around me as those around us turn their gaze behind me. So far our little conversation had gone unnoticed. Until now. The familiar shake of the ground tells me who is approaching. His words from earlier echoing in my head.

I would have done anything to make sure no harm came to you little flower.

And apparently that also extended to my own father. My father who quickly steps back, giving me a fleeting glare before walking back to his place on the dais.

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness

[wardenofdragons]

|| Iskar of Ravenholm - formerly known as the Huntsman

They say that when he appears, it's like a great shadow passing over the sea. His dragon's wings are big enough to blot out the Sun, and before you know it, your ship has burst into flame.

Smoke envelops you, the air fills with the screams of your crew and the roaring of dragons, and through the hellfire you see his silhouette.

The Huntsman.

And next to him you see his dragon, already eyeing you.

It's a Night Fury. It's bigger than any other you've seen, with scales that blend into the black smoke and wings bigger than the sails of your ship. It's eyes look white against the sea of red around it, and as it begins to prowl closer, snarling, teeth flashing, you find yourself thinking,

This must be what Death looks like.

But the Huntsman holds up a hand, his voice rising above the crackling flames as he says, "Wait." and the dragon halts.

One word.

One word, and Death listens, and turns away from your cowering form to return to its master's side. The Huntsman's outline is dark against the raging inferno that is now your ship, and through your blurry vision, you can see dragons swirling along with the rising smoke. The same dragons you spent weeks trapping and transporting from ship to ship, now free, their angered cries loud enough to make your ears ring.

They all scatter like embers in the wind, until all that remains are you and your crewmates on the burning ship.

And the Huntsman.

He turns to you, then, and you see him properly for the first time since he arrived. The head of the black wolf skin he wears rests on his shoulder, it's glass eyes glinting in the firelight. The Huntsman's face is covered by shadow, but his eyes are bright, and for a moment you can't tell them apart from the wolf's. He's clad in black- or perhaps it's the light behind him that shrouds him in darkness.

He takes a step toward you, dragon in tow.

"Please..." you beg, certain of your demise. If he doesn't kill you, the fire surely will, but that doesn't stop you from trying. He stopped the dragon from attacking you that first time. He's only human. He can be reasoned with.

He stops to stare at you. The dragon at his side looks ready to rip into you at a moment's notice.

Emboldened, you continue, "Mercy, please...! I-I have a family waiting for me, I have a son. Please, don't take his father away!"

He seems to consider you for a moment. Firelight dances across his face revealing hardened eyes smeared with dark charcoal, but you can't read his emotions. Something in his eyes still makes your stomach churn, though.

You know that look. You see it on your crewmates' faces whenever a new dragon is captured and brought on board; a cold, uncaring nonchalance. Your life means nothing to him and you both know it.

The seconds seem to stretch into hours as he stares at you. You don't dare move from your spot, even though you're sure the rest of the crew has already fled the ship. You bought them enough time to escape, and you can't help but think that no matter what happens to you now, you would die a worthy death.

It happens before you realize it. The Huntsman steps forward in the blink of an eye- you see the flash of an axe head, hidden until that point, and feel a sharp pain in your temple before it all goes black.

...

You wake up on the shores of some foreign beach.

There's sand in your teeth, waves blanketing you up to the waist and a throbbing headache behind your eyes. Sunlight blinds you as you peel your eyes open to look around.

The charred remains of your ship surround you in the sand and in the water, blackened wooden planks floating like drowned corpses in the distance. You have no idea where you are. The Sun beats down on you mercilessly, and the water you sit in feels blissfully cold against the searing heat.

You're alive.

It dawns on you slowly and yet all too suddenly, the revelation making your head spin with relief. You survived meeting the Huntsman. You stared into the eyes of Death itself and lived to tell the tale.

And that is exactly what you'll do, you think to yourself, beginning to walk along the shore.

You will continue to live and to tell the tale of the man who arrives like a hurricane, sudden and devastating, bringing fiery destruction down on anyone unfortunate enough to stand in his path.

...

I cannot stress enough how much fun I had while drawing him. He holds a special place in my heart, so I'm very happy to finally have art of him that lives up to my own standards and expectations.

Please welcome the star of the blog and the whole reason it exists in the first place: Iskar of Ravenholm!

(The link in the title leads to his character playlist on Youtube. You can read an extremely abridged version of his story in the playlist's description.)

Alternate version under the cut to show off the Huntsman design better:

Booyah

[mins-fins]

shining star !

"shining star come into view.."

synopsis: life, in all of it's forms, is beautiful. life created is beautiful, life unknown is beautiful, the calloused hands which carve out the structures of life are beautiful. just don't form an attachment, it'll be harder in the long run.

pairing: nct dream 00z x male!reader

genre: science fiction, near future au, robots and androids, love rectangle??, vaguely space au, fluff, angst, romance but also no one gets the guy at the end, 00z centric pov, sorry no reader pov 😣, relationship studies, ambiguous/open ending, loose frankenstein references, featuring guest star android park jisung

warnings: swearing, space talk, robot talk, fighting, an ending that seems sad, mean sexy boss doyoung, the ethics of getting dangerously emotionally attached to your own invention, sooo much star talk, beware android jisung

word count: 16.2k

notes: me after not posting for ten days straight then just coming out with this 😇 anyway!! experimental ass work wouldve done numbers on ao3 (kidding..), feel like for a work with four love interests the romance seems pretty lacking 😭😭 i missed jeno.. and haechan and jaemin and renjun and im experiencing a wave of sadness bc nct dream were in my city and i didnt even get to see them 😣 also ANDROID JISUNG!! i like writing new things, and this was a challenge because unlike most of my other long works i started writing this before i had the full picture in mind, also i wrote all of this in the span of nine days so um, im not posting anytime soon again 😞 my apologies for fluctuating with my consistency.. also the ending is open!! so you can imagine any outcome you want, good or bad, enough of my rambling now, just enjoy my mess!!

I.                     “ beware: for i am fearless, and therefore powerful “.

the effervescent expanse of space is an enigma, a mystery humans often poke and prod at to draw needless conclusions from. being stranded in a galaxy on a floating rock yet having little to no idea of what the unknown holds is enough to capture fear, being completely oblivious to the true nature of the universe you’re stuck in the middle of is enough to arise panic.

astronauts are brave, yes, but space is much too vast for humans, much too vast for them to survive a day outside of their oxygen filled utopia. rovers usually are feasible, but they’re now outdated, hunks of metal that more than often break down, and if the familiar knitting of doyoung’s eyebrows is any indication, it all frustrates him to an extreme extent.

still, it doesn’t explain why they suddenly have a titular new member joining their team.

jeno has become accustomed to all the nooks and crannies of the laboratory. the hallway splits into two turns reminiscent of a fork in the road, and it’s always the right turn that leads him to his destination, the left turn would put him straight in the arms of donghyuck, who isn’t exactly having the best time reacting to such news, so he’s making sure to keep a safe distance.

maybe catching a glimpse of your face will aid in the erasure of donghyuck’s distinct glare burned into jeno’s mind.

“y/n?”

it’s the usual: a mess. the mechanics of it all is your favorite part. science is beautiful, yes, but your one true love seems to always be robotics. the art of creation using that of metal is.. strange, some would say it’s off putting, nerdy, many more synonyms that would usually make jeno roll his eyes. the barrage of scattered aluminum and steels is as mundane to his eyes as it is mundane to the touch of your fingertips.

but you aren’t exactly visible from the first step into the room.

there’s a muffled sound of reply, a hum? groan? something that jeno can’t decipher with the heaping piles of bioplastics making their home on the ground.

he’s cut off from the second calling of your name when you rise from a pile of metals tucked in the corner, under the window and just barely evading the light attempting to seep through the curtains. you offer him your usual smile, snickering as you remove the clear glasses perched atop your nose and place them on your head. “jeno! do you need something?”

jeno can barely help the upturn of his lips, his hands unconsciously coming to clasp together. “i’m assuming doyoung told you.. right?”

you blink, displayed obliviousness betraying the clear insight behind your eyes. you run your sweaty palms over your pants, the id pinned to your chest seemingly crumpled from your former activities on the floor. “about the new addition to the team?”

his nod is paired with silence.

“and about this new.. project?”

you hum at the sight of his second nod, tucking a strand behind your ear as you then begin whistling into the air. jeno busies himself by zeroing in on the many blueprints you leave rolled open on the nearby tables, robots, robot parts, androids, the usual..

jeno’s eyes flit over to you again, a small kick to all the elastomers littering the floor, he hopes you have no objection to that one. “guess i can see where he’s coming from” your hands place themselves onto your hips, the sound of you kissing your teeth meeting jeno’s ears. “gives me more time for this new prototype though” the sense of your euphoria in your smile can’t seem to be replicated elsewhere, jeno sees your passion for all of this as meritorious, a true sign to how you’ll never change.

“and the new.. member?”

your eyebrows raise, using an eye roll as your response. “well you don’t seem too keen”.

you possess the striking ability to read lee jeno like an open book. you begin rolling up the many blueprints as a silent way of organization, your reverberating hum being the tune of ‘shining star’ by earth wind and fire. jeno scratches behind his ear, a frown tugging at his lips. “guess i just don’t understand what we need someone new for”.

“they just assume i need someone else attached to robotics to make it all go smoother”.

oh, jeno didn’t expect for you to know that one.

“this has always been a staple of our team, it was just you and me for a year, then hyuck joined, then two years later injunie joined us, it’s around that time where someone else is being added simply for the sake of moving us along”.

“it’s been almost three years, do we really need an asset when you already do such great a job yourself?”

you suck your teeth, snapping your fingers in his direction as jeno obeys your silent order by handing over yet another blueprint, it’s the only one with a finished sketch, but jeno can’t make out the drawn out parts for long, as you roll it up and place it with your other ones. “ask doyoung, he clearly has an answer for that one”.

the room isn’t exactly dimly lit, but the lack of light permeating through the satin curtains don’t do your side profile justice. jeno’s eyes drift their naturally, you again sigh as your head leans downward, irises dilating at the sight of your very own work. “did he tell you whose joining?” your tongue prods at the side of your cheek, fist knocking on the wood of the table before you.

“an engineer formerly assigned to siberies”.

a furrowing of eyebrows. “that far? why would there need to be such a drastic move?”

“doyoung does what doyoung does”.

your tooth sinks into your bottom lip, just barely drawing blood, but then, a smile, your usual, soft smile. “anyway, you know how i feel about additions, as long as they care, i don’t mind”.

“you’re too good with people”.

your responding laughter is laced with elation.

with your arms folded over your chest, jeno takes yet another few minutes to observe the room you often spend hours upon hours stuck in. the cognizant urge to zero in on that old picture of you two is always high, you uttered to jeno that you keep it in your room as an ‘encouraging reminder’, him being one of your first real friends and all.

there are other photos too, but jeno pays little to no regard for the stupid photographs of donghyuck which litter the shelves. the photos of you and jeno expand a wide array of your collection, but the one from before you two ended up becoming slaves to this curse of a laboratory is one he cherishes dearly.

it was always just you two before all of this.

“why do you think space?”

jeno ceases his staring, instead intrigued by your sudden inquiry. “you’ll have to specify what you mean”.

you opt to sucking your teeth, a display of your bubbling irritation. “space is so.. well, empty, it’s a void that can barely be explored planet by planet, we’ll never be able to touch the sun, never able to go ourselves for another few decades seeing the pace science is going, we can barely even get a piece of metal near our first planet, so, why exactly space?”

science is about inquiry, science is built on the basis of human curiosity and nature no one can understand, but they long to pick apart. you then tilt your head, face scrunching at your own words. “i guess.. you know— doyoung, i have something he wants, something he deems valuable, i can’t exactly understand why space is so relevant, i don’t get the purpose of pouring my life into an android for something i won’t ever experience”.

and maybe you find it amusing, your silent snickers make sure to spell that out. the question is one that’s drawn out, less of a question and more of a thought vomit, something jeno didn’t exactly expect from a conversation such as this.

jeno stares upward, and for an unknown reason, he longs to feel your fingers intertwined with his. “we’ll never really know enough, but that can be said for anything, science is about questioning the unknown, research for the benefit of those coming after us”.

“human inquiry”.

“hm”.

you seem interested, picking off a piece of cotton sticking to the side of his sweatshirt. “smart ass” you joke, a small snort leaving your lips at the blow.

and really, jeno just smiles, you’re too sweet to genuinely deliver an insult.

II.                     “ he was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance “.

the team is introduced to the new ‘asset’ (jeno loathes such a word) the following monday. a popular robotics engineer by the name of na jaemin, no one is aware of anything other than the fact that he is respected, his name rolls off the tongue well, and the pink hair is much too bright in comparison to the stillness of his expression.

the “team” simply began as a mere duo, which then became a blossoming trio, when then became a.. group. there’s only one member who doesn’t hold the anxiety permeating off of everyone else, and that is you.

fearless, that’s what you are. to the extent that six feet tall mechanical contraptions can’t even earn the hinder of a muscle. maybe being locked in a room as a way of work does that to a man, jeno will have to look into if that is a strategy for toughening up or something.

jeno immediately observes the obvious, jaemin’s hands are dry and calloused. when he reaches for handshakes, donghyuck is the only one who doesn’t make a move, something of a cower in his expression. it’s a bit of a surprise, bright, loud mouthed, brash donghyuck, cowering? jeno finds such a prospect astonishing.

jaemin’s grin is somewhat scary for a first time interaction, his teeth bare in a motion that’s simply.. performed. “it’s nice to meet you, all of you, i’ve heard good things about this.. team”.

you don’t reply with a smile, but there’s satisfaction behind your eyes. “you were not who i was expecting”.

“same here” renjun speaks jeno’s thoughts out into the world, his smile strained.

jaemin’s smile is again unsavory, but jeno keeps his composure so as to not let such a comment slip. for a reason unknown, you show a smile. “well then, let’s work hard together to make sure we succeed”.

donghyuck now physically cowers behind jeno, a grimace perfectly placed on his features as he readies up a sneer. “i don’t like this guy” he says, as if jaemin isn’t standing less than a foot away from him.

“i can hear you” jaemin’s smile twitches, not yet fully faltering.

“good” donghyuck replies, his arm coming to link with your own. he raises a suspicious eyebrow his way, keeping himself close by, as if you’d square up if jaemin decided to make any sort of threat towards him.

you reach behind yourself to squeeze donghyuck’s hand, clear serenity in your expression. “be nice” you whisper. “we’ll be seeing more of each other from now on either way”.

donghyuck grimaces, eyeing jaemin with distrust he isn’t keen on taking back. “hopefully not..” he mutters, eyes casting to the right.

jaemin simply shares another formidable smile.

both you and jaemin are assigned to the northernmost lab, sniō. a cold, isolated world that’s nothing reminiscent of the warmth your regular office holds, jeno’s face twitches at the name alone, how one could even survive in such an atmosphere is beyond him.

you always do the robot stuff, and since jaemin is in the same field, it means the time spent between you two shall grow, just until you create a working prototype.

na jaemin seems to be just as intrigued by you as everyone is when they first meet you, jeno guesses having to work with someone in a below freezing room brings two close.

“i apologize for donghyuck’s.. attitude, he takes a while to warm up to”.

“seems he doesn’t want to warm up at all”.

your eyes remain trained on the screen, jaemin takes note of how your irises seem to void out, nothing but pure, untouched engrossment present in the darkness. you then put on the pair of glasses typically kept at your side, cracking your knuckles. “don’t worry, he’s not that bad”.

“but he’s still somewhat bad?”

jaemin is somewhat drawn to it, you in particular. this is about a partnership after all, meaning you two have to sink into the feeling of knowing each other. the flurry of robot parts earn a grunt, hands now placing themselves onto his hips. “not that bad, he can just have.. an attitude problem”.

the other offers a chuckle in response to your words, an empty blueprint being rolled open onto the metal table. jaemin cops a glance, lips doing an upturn at the focus in your expression. “let’s get this done, yeah?”

a hum is all you’re offered, but it’s not that jaemin doesn’t care, it’s just that he doesn’t want to laser focus on that pretty smile of yours.

III.                     “ what can stop the determined heart and resolved will of man? “.

when you get deep into work, you slip into a certain state of mind. maybe one day you’ll be responsible for androids overthrowing the human race and taking over the world, donghyuck thinks you probably foresee such an outcome with how much you put into pieces of metals.

lee donghyuck first met you in the same manner as jeno, in the crossroads of the laboratory’s mishmash of a hallway.

robot presence at an all time high, donghyuck remembers visibly jumping backward once coming into contact with you, now unable to tear his eyes away from the sight. he blinked, then his eyes narrowed against his will, a clear display of his judgment. “woah”.

exactly, his first words to you were ‘woah’, an exhibit of his surprise, definitely not his last one when it would come to you. he supposes that the whole unpredictability ruse is how you live your life, maybe jeno isn’t all that crazy.

you blinked in a silent reply, then, you laughed into your usual pretty smile as a third hand rose from behind your back. “hello to you too”.

“another hand?”

the intrigue was genuine, a simple judgment still there, but the inquiries were outweighing it all, as he tilted his head as his reply to your own. your nod was, in the strangest way possible, comforting. “i need extra assistance”.

donghyuck immediately knew the next question; “you created it yourself?”

“yep, have control of it and everything”.

he couldn’t even let a snarky lie slip in the moment. “that’s very impressive, do you usually..?”

you sensed his upcoming query, because you again giggled. “yeah, robotics is my passion”.

donghyuck hummed, somehow, the smile you brought was without irritation. “y/n”.

“donghyuck, it’s nice to meet you”.

and really, it was.

doyoung is no longer the monster donghyuck thought he was way back when he was an intern, as he gets older, the other seems to have glares that soften. his scientific curiosity exceeded the earlier fear, though, because he’s been able to stay here for years even with the older looking as if he wants to wrap a hand around his neck and squeeze.

the first time donghyuck meets both you and jeno, he immediately observes the other’s puppy like features. he found your relationship odd, considering you didn’t have to do anything magnificent yet lee jeno would stare with an enraptured gaze as if the individual moles on your face themselves solved world hunger and cured disease.

ah, so you two have that kind of relationship.

(“don’t you think jeno looks like a samoyed?” he recalls uttering to you a week later, there was a gleam in your eye, and it was completely dedicated to the blueprints you had probably gazed upon millions of times before that moment.

your laughter came in a harmonious rhythm, and the sound was so pleasant that donghyuck stared plainly captivated for a mere moment. “at an angle, he kind of does look like a puppy” your hand came to cover your mouth, despite donghyuck being the only person in your company.

donghyuck found a frown tugging at his lips, what are you hiding? don’t you know your laughter is pretty? he opted out of saying that out loud, anxious over something unknown. “sometimes he even acts like one”.

you clicked your tongue, playing with the collar of your shirt. “he’s simply clingy” you replied, straightening your posture as you silently ask for a pen with the motioning of your fingers. when donghyuck hands it over, he relishes in the small moment that your fingers meet, the delicacy of your hands is a feeling he can’t ever shake off.

or maybe lee jeno is simply in love, isn’t that strange y/n?)

donghyuck eventually got acclimated to the aberration of the usual laboratory day. doyoung asks a lot of you, courtesy of your vast knowledge concerning everything robots. you seem to enjoy the proposition of working yourself to the ground, it’s as if you’re trying to meet a goal, see how long you can work before you completely pass out or get choked to death by one of your robot contraptions.

“you’ll die if you keep going like this”.

your response was a scrunch of your facial muscles, an action that made donghyuck assume you’d reply with some snappy rebuttal, that’s what he always does after all. “death can’t catch up to me just yet, i won’t allow for it to”.

“not sure it’ll be glad with that proposal..” donghyuck muttered, but you simply let your eyes avert upward, distinguishing the planet models cascaded on the ceiling. it’s a staple of the laboratory’s main room, a duplicate of our very own solar system, fit with the sun, and the eight titular planets we have become accustomed to (though donghyuck knows you don’t exactly agree with the prospect of pluto being demoted, “poor guy, he probably feels left out..”; that’s what you muttered about it, he finds it funny).

“when the time is right, i’ll have control over how i want to go”.

“we’ll you can’t exactly determine the wavelength of destiny” donghyuck responded, and you snickered, hand again coming up to hide your mouth.

“don’t worry, something so stupid won’t be what takes me out, i promise you”.

you promised him, you promised him.

for a fourth interaction, donghyuck simply found you so.. beautiful. beautiful in a manner reminiscent of the many galaxies which hold worlds in them, tied with the stars, planets, comets, asteroids, all the celestial bodies donghyuck has dedicated so much of his life to studying.

the promise was signed by your pretty smile, signed by the shooting stars present in the night sky.

it’ll be kept, after all, you aren’t one to break them, donghyuck knows that well enough.

IV.                     “ the world was to me a secret which i desired to devine “.

na jaemin isn’t exactly used to such a work ethic reminiscent of his own.

he works better alone, he usually always works alone. he originally got a part in this project because he thought he was the only engineer on this prototype duty, the only one specializing in actually creating this android, but then you came into the picture, and..

it’s safe to say that he’s steadily impressed.

the prototype has nothing of a face, it’s simply a standing piece of metals that don’t exactly allow for it to scrunch it’s face in the manner of a human being just yet. there’s ink painted on jaemin’s shirt, just shy of his usually prim and clear id, but that isn’t his main focus currently.

it— he opens his eyes for the first time, the eyelids fluttering open in the fashion replicating that of someone waking up in the morning. it stands rock still, the arms haven’t been programmed well enough yet.

your gaze burns through the pre-android, arms folded over your chest as you still in a method implicative of the robotic body before you. it’s pupils dilate, the irises completely black, not the familiar dark brown color of your eyes, simply pitch black. the sclera is a pure, blank white that is nothing of a human’s, jaemin would know.

he glances at his side, your eyes dark and the circles under them even darker. he opens his mouth to speak out a query, but then the android starts;

his pupils dilate, widening to the extent only a human’s pupil can, so lively so early in the process. again, the movements are unnatural, arms remaining pinned at his sides.

his mouth doesn’t curve upward, his eyes convey all there is to convey. good morning, it speaks, voice devoid of anything.. sensation, the only hint of one being behind the pupils which remained wide. i love you.

then, there’s nothing more else to say, and the pre-done android winds up, shoulders slumping as it shuts back down, eyelids fluttering shut, pupils narrowing, all of the color draining from where they previously remained.

jaemin blinks, observing you pinch the bridge of your nose, your teeth kissing one another. “i keep forgetting we programmed that one”.

“think he just does it as a natural instinct now” your arms drop at your sides, glasses being swept off your face and placed onto the nearby table. it is 11:38 pm, not morning, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“he? so it’s a boy?”

you inquire as if you’re attending a gender reveal, something of an amusing look behind your own pupils. “first name idea i got was for a boy.. do you want a change?”

your hum isn’t intelligible enough for jaemin to decipher your inner most thoughts. “no, it’s cute”.

“what?”

“your dedication to this project”.

in a manner that is completely unlike him, a tint of red spreads across jaemin’s cheeks, heat coiling over his face. you didn’t call him cute, why did that even fluster him? he opts to glancing away, he wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off you if he again decided to stare.

“is that it for tonight?”

“i want to add on a few tweaks” you reply, you don’t mention anything pertaining to sleep.

“not even a couple of hours?” 

you simply manage a fleeting glance, a tired smile present on your features. his hair is mussed, tousled from the little care he paid to it throughout the day, you reach over and twirl a strand between your fingers, a ministration that brings a specific feeling of solace which comes as a small surprise.

“there’s no need to worry about me, you go get sleep”.

there’s the urge to rebel, to argue until his throat itches and it all hurts, but he keeps it all inside, mouth falling closed with a silent plop. “tomorrow same time?”

you hum in agreement.

jaemin’s face twitches, the freezing atmosphere of sniō now becoming more of a bother than before. your index finger again graces a hair strand, and his eyes flutter closed in a moment of relaxation.

he then chuckles at a sudden thought, glancing upward. “what do you think about the name mouth suction gangster?”

your laughter is irresistible, amusement high in the air despite the late night. “i think we’ll lose our federal funding if you name him such a thing”.

jaemin presents an exaggerated pout, and you ruffle his pink locks. “do you have any name ideas?”

you lean closer, jaemin instinctively leaning backward as you continue to seem bewitched by his pink hair. “it’s a secret”.

jaemin takes the opportunity to admire your features, each of your individual moles could be one of their own galaxies, holding a barrage of stars which simply amplify your beauty. “i’ll find out”.

“sure, good night jaemin”.

jaemin isn’t sure why, but he hopes to see that smile around more. it’s simply.. well, the words won’t come to mind just yet.

“good night y/n”.

when he finds out what the word is, it’ll surely become one of his favorites.

V.                     “ there is something at work in my soul, which i do not understand “.

renjun’s name has a flurry of meanings despite it being a mere six letters, it’s a simple combination of two parts, yet those two parts hold the staple of how he managed things through his eyes for the latter part of his life.

the part “仁” usually means “benevolence”, it’s the meaning most people associate with the first three letters. the other two meanings are “ideal” and “expressing respect”, the adjective being “sensitive”. his parents reiterated to him many times that they had several arguments about the choosing, because naming your child whose future you can’t foresee the word kind is genuinely hilarious, but renjun would ensure that he’d grow up to be the kindest son they could ever have.

the second half “俊” is the typical name which means “handsome; pretty” or “of outstanding talent”, the adjectives being “smart, eminent”, a laughable prospect really, renjun has always been said to get his looks from his mother, he inherited her soft features whilst he got the strong personality (and by proxy, voice) from his father.

he assumes his smarts must be a mix, renjun never thought science, really, he originally wanted to go to school for music, but as his mother said; “music doesn’t pay the bills”.

he was never meant to end up here, not on his own accord anyway, and he was never supposed to be a part of this team in the first place.

but here he is.

don’t name it, he recalls doyoung saying, a booming voice being his go to. it’s only going to survive out in space for a couple of months, naming it will simply make it all harder in the long run.

but of course, you’ve never been one to listen.

to love something is to give it a name, you’ve always had attachments to your projects. heck, most of your caffeine addiction can be attributed to that talking coffee machine you created way back.

it makes enough sense to renjun why both you and jaemin gave the android a name, it’s usual to name a creation of yours, especially if there’s a specific meaning in mind.

renjun’s not a fan of robots, especially not of androids. despite all your fondness, he just can’t get it, and he knows he won’t ever get it, they simply freak him out. androids are too lifelike, androids are so freaky, he just can’t find an ounce of humanity in them that so called creators could find so easily.

the prototype isn’t yet finished, but it already has a couple defining facial features. it has small eyes, tiny heart shaped lips, a splitting smile, and it seems to have a knack for saying “i love you”.. like all the time.

and doyoung specifically said to not name it. naming it means attachment, attachment that’ll interfere with the way doyoung longs for this mission to go.

we can’t have another failure, you know what’ll happen to y/n if this goes wrong.

renjun isn’t quite as taken to this as the others seem to be..

“you gonna give it a name?”

renjun observes as you only let one eye open, arms acting as your makeshift pillow as you allow for your legs to stretch across the couch. you ponder for a moment, renjun senses that you’re contemplating on if you should lie or not, something about information between robotics engineers staying between them.

(and he loathes it, why are you keeping secrets with jaemin?)

“him, and yes, jaemin is very keen on doing so”.

“okay, so what do you have in mind?”

“are you gonna tell donghyuck?”

the question seems a tiny bit accusatory, renjun would feel offended if not for there being some truth behind those words. you know too much for your own good, he’s secretly afraid you’re some crazy mind reading alien, or a time traveler, or you’re just constantly eavesdropping.

he glances away, staring endlessly at the twinkling stars in the night sky. he hasn’t been stargazing in a while, it was a little tradition you two developed after your first dinner together, back when renjun was the newbie who had the least scientific experience. he guesses nerdy constellation knowledge made for a good past time.

(“you have a favorite?” renjun recalls you asking him. it was a spontaneous exchange, going up to the rooftop when you weren’t allowed to gave renjun the full picture of how exactly you were. your smile remains as pretty as it was when renjun first met you in the cold interior of doyoung’s claustrophobic office.

“aquila” he still has the taste of the word on his tongue. “it contains some of my favorite stars, altair, theta aquilae, lambda aquilae.. most of them”.

your intrigue seemed to be contagious, and though the light was minuscule, he could still make out your prettiest features under the dimly shining stars. the light of the shooting stars reflected in the shine of your pupils, a shine that simply seemed so.. perfect. “do you have a favorite?” renjun asked back, hands placed in his lap as he fruitfully avoided your eyes.

you feigned thought, renjun already knows you usually always have the answer on standby. “sagittarius, it consists of the two triple stars, you know i always see pi sagittarius on nights like this..”

of course, pi sagittarius is visible to the naked eye, renjun barely had to squint to capture a glimpse that night. and you? you simply looked enchanted, bewitched, something else that again seemed contagious, as renjun couldn’t help but use the moment to gaze at you with such captivation. you’re captivating, without having even to do anything special, simply talking about the stars is enough.

you scooted closer, knees knocking and shoulders brushing against renjun’s. “if you were a star.. you would be gamma arietis.. it’s apart of aries, one of the brightest”.

it’s a fleeting whisper, an intimate moment that could barely even be deemed ‘intimate’. renjun assumes so, though, who just says that? who compares someone to one of the prettiest stars in the sky? the cool night air did a good job of masking his tinted cheeks, but renjun can never exactly forget it.

in his own sickening mind, huang renjun would’ve taken that as a love confession. gladly as well.)

renjun’s gaze remains fixed on the window, your eyes now again fluttering closed. “am i no longer trustworthy?”

you hum, eyes remaining closed, exhaustion slowly beginning to seep through. “you’ve earned my trust, but it can always be broken”.

renjun is aware. the only person you probably fully trust at this point is jeno, but of course, you’ve known him for the longest. “i have my pinky, i’ll swear”.

you look as if you’re about to slip, but then you suddenly flinch, rising from your spot in an abrupt jerking movement that startles renjun out of his star admiring. “i’m not done yet..”

“y/n, it’s late, are you really going back to sniō?”

“it’s last minute!”

terrible fucking excuse, renjun’s nose crinkles.

it’s less of him being angry, more of him simply wanting your company, attention, just.. something, why should it all be divided between jaemin and this android thing? his stomach curls in an ugly feat of jealousy.

his arms stay dropped at his sides, and he clears his throat. “don’t stay at the laboratory all night again!”

stupid thing to say, he already knows you will, you’ve never been one to listen.

VI.                     “ if i cannot inspire love, i will cause fear! “.

the “team” (jeno doesn’t really think of them as such) is introduced to prototype 205 on a seemingly regular thursday. fortunately for jeno, they don’t have to be in the below freezing environment of sniō, he’d probably faint from such a prospect. no, you guys meet in the space of the main laboratory, the overhead lights shining over you as if you’re an angel.

“his name is jisung” jaemin says, full of pride. your silence is key, there might be no words, but jeno can practically feel your excitement. sometimes, he feels as if your minds must be connected by some invisible wire. your fatigue is clear, jaemin probably hasn’t gotten sleep in weeks, jeno is afraid he might pass out, and you? your exhaustion is now completely usual, the bags under your eyes holding them upward as to not have them flutter shut.

“jisung” your voice is soft as you glance over at i— him, your stare nothing short of proud. “say hi to renjun, jeno, and donghyuck”.

jisung, half hidden behind jaemin’s shoulder, looks up at jaemin, as if for encouragement. it’s cute. jeno has to remind himself that the mannerisms are simply coded into his system. jaemin nods at him, and jisung finally shows out a part of his face, not yet stepping out.

“hi renjun” his eyelids flutter a little too humanely. “hello jeno, donghyuck” his voice is soft, yet it’s deep, clearly deeper than jeno’s, scratch that, probably deeper than everyone’s.

“..i look forward to working with you” donghyuck replies cautiously.

jaemin’s eyes shine as jisung parrots such enthusiasm, your shoulders slumping forward in action of relief. jeno’s eyes form into crescents as he smiles, just watching you be proud of your own work pleases him. despite your unkempt, mad scientist appearance, no one would ever be able to guess you had been awake for about thirty two hours simply trying to get jisung to turn on. the fondness in your expression is more befitting of a proud parent than an inventor.

you’re going to break your own heart at this point, jeno knows it, and judging by renjun’s narrowed eyes, he knows it too.

donghyuck chokes on nothing in the air, a clutch to his chest amplifying the dramatics of it all. “oh my god, he’s so cute” he can barely contain his laughter, pure excitement behind his eyes. “you made him cute”.

“of course i did” jaemin replies, sounding a tad bit offended. “he’s the cutest, all courtesy of y/n’s expertise”.

jeno can’t help the unconscious softening of his gaze as jisung copies your smile. his feigned irritation is barely even sustained, it’s difficult to keep a straight face when he is so adorable.

renjun simply grumbles something he takes as a silent rebuttal, it’ll probably take a while for him to get used to jisung. jeno blinks at jisung, who again smiles as he practically senses jeno’s eyes. “it’s nice to meet you, jisung”.

the name rolls off the tongue rather well.

“why jisung?”

jeno knows you, and by ‘knows’, he means spent full hours with you hiding in storage closets from the mean older kids when they’d trash your inventions, back before all of this, back when jeno was the only one you had to lean on. he hasn’t gotten the full scope when it comes to the full extent of your mind, but you two have history.

and what jeno knows, is that you don’t choose names unless there’s a specific meaning in mind. you like names, you think they’re “simply the prettiest kind of random, meanings can go a long way..”

you blink your eyes up at the ceiling, and somehow, even with the insane lethargy, they don’t close against your own will, you simply keep them open. you motion your hand, beckoning for jeno to give you his.

his hand places into yours in a natural sense of action, and of course, even with the roughness of the metals you spend hours around, your hands remain soft, soothing. jeno wonders if touching a cloud could compare to the pure delicacy of your palm, your fingertips. you give a glance upward, the curves of your eyes mirroring your very own smile.

“jisung means.. devotion” you whisper, slowly tracing the spelling of his name into jeno’s palm. “it can also ironically mean alive, jaemin thought of that one..”

“devotion to who?”

when your eyes flit upward, jeno wonders if that was the wrong question to ask. there’s nothing foreseeable behind your eyes, or maybe there is and it’s successfully overshadowed by your clear lack of sleep. he almost jumps backward, but then you smile again, your eyes forming into crescents as you begin a silent fit of laughter. “everyone really, loyalty, it’s one of his biggest traits”.

you know if this continues your simply going to hurt yourself in the end.

jeno refrains from letting such a thought escape him. “he really is cute”.

jeno leans closer, whispering the words as if they’re some sort of secret, as if doyoung could be around the corner with his watchful eye on you two, as if this is an old sleepover you two are having where you giggle about what the future may bring, fingers intertwined and all. “i know, it’s a very important asset”.

not important to the mission.

again, jeno doesn’t speak such thoughts, you’re so happy, you’re so proud.

he knows better than to ruin such a beautiful thing.

VII.                     “ i ought to be thy adam, but i am rather the fallen angel… “.

doyoung wanted to get rid of you before project apollo and the success of prototype 205.

donghyuck didn’t have to hear it from renjun, he heard it in the way doyoung let each individual word fall from his lips. it’s often deemed a little ‘crazy’ that he hyper fixates on things that don’t seem to matter, but when it comes to you, donghyuck thinks it always matters.

it was a cruel move, to slyly hint it to the three and leave you out of the loop, donghyuck is all for a little cruelty sometimes, but it’s just tip toeing the line of evil. how could he even think of doing something without telling you first?

na jaemin was brought in as a replacement, the choice to keep you was only agreed upon after your teammates’ insistence. project athena went up in flames, which is what caused the distrust, but they pleaded your case either way.

(“don’t you think this is a little too drastic?” worry colored renjun’s usually stoic expression, if donghyuck focused enough, he could hear an upcoming tremble in his voice. “think of what y/n’s done for you already!”

it was two days before the arrival of the new engineer that it happened. in a manner of rarity, you were out that saturday, something only possible because of dejun’s surprisingly intimidating request. you mused that simply one day of rest would be fine, a good move on dejun’s part.

doyoung’s raised eyebrow was a threat that made even renjun tense. “shall i remind you of the mess which was project athena?”

“you can’t let him go over one failure, he’s like.. the only person who actually knows anything about robots!” yes, it got to the point where donghyuck was flailing his arms back and forth in the air. “and besides, we don’t know the other guy like that..”

“this project isn’t designed for your comfortability” god screw doyoung and his paper stacking. his hair is too neat, his eyes are too empty, his facial expressions much too stoic. maybe donghyuck’s childish fear back from his intern days is gone, but there still seems to be another kind of fear left over. “y/n’s become a liability, we’ve taken too many risks”.

jeno and donghyuck got offended on your behalf. jeno’s facial muscles twitched, a clear frown tugging at his lips as he sucked his teeth at the words from doyoung. donghyuck’s hands clenched the material of his pants, a gasp of disbelief leaving his lips. they exchanged a glance of vexation, an irritated snort leaves donghyuck. he had to be kidding.

“just.. this last mission, come on, it’ll go well”.

yes, it was renjun’s words that got a twitch out of doyoung. the older’s eyes examined each of them, renjun, then jeno, then donghyuck. then, he sighed, rolling his eyes. “you three are like children, this is his last chance, if y/n fails, you aren’t coming back here with your bag of excuses..”

donghyuck tutted, crossing his arms in an act of clear defiance. jeno looked the least irritated out of the three, but donghyuck knows it’s only because he was thinking more of you than of doyoung. renjun scowled, stomping his feet and storming out of the room.

“see? like a child”.

donghyuck probably would’ve jumped at him if not for jeno’s hand gracing his shoulder, rubbing his thumb over the blades in a comforting manner. jeno’s anger had quelled by that point, and he allowed himself to relax as best as he could. “thank you doyoung”.

donghyuck didn’t thank him for anything, there wasn’t shit to thank him for.)

the conference doesn’t need many speakers, so someone is clearly going to be left behind. donghyuck knows he’s going, he’s already prepared speeches, presentation note cards, and post it note reminders. to his very own dismay, jaemin has to tag along, and though it was an obvious foreshadowing, he still hates it.

your attendance is obvious, you’re probably much more prepared than donghyuck is, there’s never an event you don’t pre-prepare for, you always say that it’s “just in case”. that leaves it to renjun and jeno, one of them has to stay behind with jisung.

“think jeno should come with..” jaemin utters, your shuffling of papers fills the room, no sound comes from you, no indication of your agreement or disagreement. “don’t you have the coding expertise? we could use that”.

renjun begins picking at his nails, clearly anxious about being left alone with jisung. donghyuck raises an eyebrow at jaemin, lips turning downward. “are you the one calling the shots now?”

“it’s a suggestion, donghyuck, don’t get so uptight”.

donghyuck again scowls, face twisting into a grimace that’s less of disgust and more of indignation. “not uptight..”

“sure you aren’t” jaemin comments loudly, smacking a folder against the table as he wipes the dust from his hands. he glares, and donghyuck decides to glare back, one snap away from completely flipping him off.

you suck your teeth. “stop fighting, i’ll put your seats together if you don’t” your tone of voice indicates that you’re probably going to do it anyway. you pat donghyuck’s shoulder and make your way over to renjun. “are you fine staying with jisung or..?”

you’re much too generous, you are quite literally giving him an option. donghyuck observes renjun tense up momentarily, but if you notice it, you keep silent, patiently awaiting his response. he contemplates for a moment, and donghyuck gives a silent laugh at his clear anxiety. “i..” he looks over at jeno, then he shakes his head. “it’s alright, i can stay with jisung”.

“you sure?”

jeno clears his throat, the decision is done with, he doesn’t want more time for contemplation. “yeah, yeah! it’s alright!”

it’s not. donghyuck can see the way jaemin’s eyebrows furrow peripherally, and he simply clicks his tongue.

your suspicious gaze bores through his skull, but then you sigh, arms dropping at your sides. “okay, that’s good..”

donghyuck glances away, easily avoiding jaemin’s eyes. everyone is so obvious, he questions how renjun even functions around you if he answers your simple questions like that.

maybe he’s giving himself too much credit..

later that night, donghyuck joins you on the couch, your eyes stuck on the window which showcases the darkness of the night. it might be a problem, the fact that no matter how hard you try, you can no longer get a fit of sleep.

his crumpled shirt is a result of his extensive tossing and turning, how jeno ever sleeps is a mystery to him, but knowing what he does know, jeno will only ever get shut eye for a good three hours before he begins his continuous ceiling staring session. “nervous?”

you barely register his words, donghyuck is afraid you don’t hear him, afraid you might be frozen or something. it’s so weird, donghyuck always seems to find a new reason to worry his mind off concerning you, but you then blink, sucking your teeth at the window as if it did something to you personally. “kinda..” you opt to say.

donghyuck scoots closer, the two of you naturally falling together with you both deciding to lean. your eyes close for a second before opening again, as if you fear sleeping. how strange. donghyuck’s head presses against yours, your fingers coming to intertwine in a gentle manner. “do you like jisung?”

the query is whispered, and donghyuck licks his lips, really having to think it over. “he’s adorable”.

“yes or no?”

your insistence draws a tired chuckle. “yeah, i love the little shit”.

you snort, biting into your cheek. “don’t call him that”.

a hum is the response you receive.

VIII.                     “ thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by slight ligaments are we bound to prosperity and ruin “.

renjun doesn’t find being left alone all that bad, if he can just perpetually avoid jisung for the fraction of the day he has to work, then it all should be fine.

he holds onto the hug you gave him before you left, a gesture of affection he probably wouldn’t have accepted from anyone else, but let you do because.. well, he supposes it’s obvious.

“don’t get so freaked out, jisung is practically harmless” you told him, hands placed on his shoulders as you stared with your wide pupils full of fondness.

renjun could only respond with the scrunch of his face. what did you mean by ‘practically?’

he didn’t get to question it, jaemin dragged you off before he could even open his mouth, but not before shooting renjun one of his creepy looking grins. if he didn’t know any better, renjun would’ve asked to go as well, if not for the sake of being around you, but also so he could keep an eye on na jaemin.

renjun decides to occupy most of his day in meetings, doing extra work yangyang was much too lazy to do on his own. he hangs around the southernmost laboratory until kun has to usher him out, his excuses quickly defuse, and he has no choice but to trudge his way back to the main floor.

jisung is fixated on the distinguishing features of the model above him when renjun first runs into him that day, a copy of frankenstein left opened to a specific page on his lap. he tilts his head as he observes the unmoving solar system replica, his finger comes to caress the pages of the book, renjun can just barely make out scribbled writing on the individual pages. after a few more seconds of staring, he turns to the side. “hi” he blinks those terrifyingly realistic eyes. “busy day?”

renjun clears his throat, a wave of shame washing over him at such a question. jisung probably didn’t mean it, but he could probably sense that renjun’s avoidance was slightly purposeful. “uh— yeah, sort of, you could say that..”

he again goes to picking at his fingers, feeling the others eyes zero in on the movement. he lets a breath fall, attempting to change the topic, he starts; “what are you looking at?”

his feet seemingly have a mind of their own, as renjun finds himself beside jisung in no time, hands now placed in his lap. his eyes flit downward, ah, he knew it, jisung is reading one of your copies, he notices your straight handwriting right away.

“the solar system model” he whispers, eyes again traveling upward. “all these planets.. which one am i supposed to go to?”

renjun is a bit taken aback by that question, it’s a little unexpected, but he guesses it is what he was programmed for. he blinks, seemingly heating up under his stare. “um.. jupiter, that’s where your mission is dedicated”.

jisung hums, and renjun simply remains freaked out. it’s all too human like, was that on your part or jaemin’s? he’s now insanely curious.

“what are you reading?”

jisung perks up, as if startled by his spontaneous query. “frankenstein, y/n likes reading, he says this is one of his favorites”.

renjun snickers, how nice. “yeah, y/n is obsessed with science fiction in all of it’s forms”.

jisung nods. “i like it, the story is.. a bit ironic but it’s beautifully written”.

renjun’s lips immediately turn downward, while he expected for jisung to be aware of that one, it’s sort of sad to hear the tone of his voice when he says the word ‘ironic’.

jisung’s gaze bores through him, it’s reminiscent of how your eyes seem to burn into literally everyone’s soul, seeing their innermost thoughts with eyes seemingly devoid of anything. “are you alright?” he asks, sensing the mismatched thoughts muddled up in renjun’s mind.

“oh.. um, fine”.

jisung blinks, his eyelids fluttering in a freakishly realistic manner. his expressions have no right to seem so real. “something seems wrong”.

“are you programmed to notice things like that?”

jisung contemplates for a moment, as if genuinely thinking about how he should reply to it. “i’m not sure actually”.

renjun isn’t sure of that answer. “does it have something to do with the conference?”

renjun almost jumps back once again. jisung tilts his head, eyelids curving upward, lips pressed into a thin line. “is your mind stuck on y/n?”

oh, that’s fucking creepy, surely that can’t be programmed right?

unfortunately, no one is around to answer that question for renjun.

he shakes his head though completely wrong. “no..”

renjun is sure that anyone, android or not, could decipher the falsity behind his tone. “what’s wrong? did you two fight?”

“..no”.

“but you seem upset”.

curse this jisung, renjun can barely breathe without him dropping yet another accusation. shit. how obvious is he then? donghyuck must know, then that means jaemin is possibly aware, and that means jeno..

fuck.

“i guess— i don’t know, y/n is just so confusing, he’s complicated, can’t help feeling how i feel”.

oh what is wrong with renjun? he’s pouring his feelings out to this android that was created by the person he has a crush not crush on, surely anyone with a working mind would see that this is pretty much crazy. “you love him”.

renjun’s gasp is immediate, and he has no idea why he seems as offended as he is. “i— what? of course i love him but not like that..”

“he loves you too” jisung’s gaze is reminiscent of yours, stars seemingly dazzling behind his irises in the same manner as yours. how does that happen? did you mold him after you or something? it’s not that you two look alike, it’s more about the specific mannerisms renjun has gotten used to seeing from you. “he loves everybody, jeno, donghyuck, jaeminie, even me, i can’t really believe that”.

“y/n loves everything he creates”.

“no it’s—” he uncharacteristically pauses, weird. “it’s not like that, he loves me like i’m not a project, like i.. as if i’m not just here so you guys can discover more about space, like i’m more than that”.

oh, renjun didn’t think about it like that. he hums, tapping his fingers onto his knee. jisung seems defeated, which again perturbs renjun in the slightest, as he’s assumed all feelings are simply programmed, not that they can change naturally in their own way on their own accord.

you’re driving yourself into a wall, you’re going to hurt yourself in the end, and jisung even knows it himself.

“jaeminie does too, they take care of me”.

renjun doesn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t this. jisung again glances upward at the model of the solar system, eyes remaining fixated on the mold of jupiter. that’s where he is going. “i don’t really know how you feel, but y/n is.. he isn’t feeling that different”.

speak for yourself, y/n loves everyone, even doyoung, and the fucker tried to fire him.

renjun decides to keep that one to himself, his cheeks now tinted red, an unknown heat coming out of nowhere.

okay, maybe jisung isn’t that bad.

IX.                     “ life, although it may be only an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and i will defend it “.

over the coming weeks, jisung becomes more of a mundane figure in everyone’s lives.

the attachment both you and jaemin have is clear, as creators of jisung, you pretty much treat him like he’s your kid or something (which jeno supposes he is but that’s only due to the obvious). the proprietary technology is shared between you both, all the other three did was fill you two with the correct knowledge and program the actual useful things. how to collect samples, how to analyze a mass spectrometry reading, how to identify potential life and share data on environmental conditions, not to mention everything that even goes into operating a spacecraft.

“what do you mean?” jaemin tilts his head, feigned resentment behind his eyes with jisung keeping his head laid onto his shoulder. he’s asleep, or.. off, jeno is unsure of how exactly it all works, but jisung’s eyes are closed, so jeno assumes he’s asleep. “you’re implying his skills weren’t useful before, i programmed him to dance, that’s useful”.

jisung’s chest rises and sinks, then it happens again. his lashes flutter, mouth parting as if releasing a sigh. jeno has to hand it to the both you and jaemin, because for all your eccentricism, you two are insanely talented. every part of jisung is painstakingly lifelike, delicately crafted. even jeno forgets when he looks at him, sometimes, that he isn’t alive at all.

“why?” jeno asks, because of course he does. the basis of his career draws from the most intrigued of queries, asking questions is all he knows how to do. “how is that useful?”

jisung shifts for a moment, then he rises, back straightening as he blinks awake, eyelids fluttering as he settles into the air of the room. “it makes people happy” jaemin opts to whisper, nothing but pure endearment behind his eyes as he stares. “isn’t that useful?”

not useful to the mission, not useful to scientific achievement, were hitting a brick wall here.

jisung’s eye flit around the room, unfocused. when he processes jaemin’s face, his lips curve into a smile. when his eyes land on jeno, his smile only widens, which startles the other enough that his replying smile is awkward.

“good morning” jaemin coos, brushing a strand of hair behind jisung’s ear.

“it’s eight twenty seven o’clock” jisung replies, matter of factly. he blinks again at jaemin, observing as the older juts out his lip. he then pauses, mind seemingly re-wiring.

“good morning” he tries again. “i love you”.

jaemin’s resounding laughter is full of so much elation that jeno can even see his teeth, and he squeezes jisung tighter, completely enamored.

jeno guesses he’s pretty adorable.

jisung again blinks his terrifyingly realistic eyes, his pupils holding curiosity. “where is y/n?”

he doesn’t yet give mention to renjun and donghyuck’s absence, but jeno guesses it’s due to jisung being quite used to seeing you around once he wakes up. he tilts his head in jeno’s direction, as if also expecting an answer from him. jaemin clears his throat, ruffling his hair. “y/n had to leave at six for early work, he’ll be back soon”.

jeno scans the look of simply affection at the mention of you, not just from jisung, but also from jaemin. jisung’s face falls in a display of worry, jeno finds that rich. “y/n typically works every single day, do you know why jeno?”

being put on the spot, jeno again startles, his face going pale. he contemplates for a moment, feeling jisung’s eyes seep through him in a burning gaze, it’s a little scary. “i— um..”

“were back!” donghyuck fortunately comes to save his ass, kicking down the door in a bang so loud it cuts jeno off immediately. “and we brought food” renjun continues, he places the bag he holds onto the nearby table, right in front of jisung. he fixates on it, scanning the plastic before him. “and hello you!” donghyuck seems to feel a similar extent of adoration in correlation with both you and jaemin, as he leans downward to press a kiss to his cheek, drawing a small sound from him.

“good morning..” he mutters, shying away from the act of affection. jeno finds donghyuck’s attachment to jisung a little more surprising, renjun definitely took a while to warm up, but donghyuck didn’t really need that much time, the other previously expressed concerns to jeno about using androids when the project began, but it seems that all the worry has since dissipated. he was smitten, he still is.

renjun was much more weary at first, but he’s slowly getting used to his presence, jeno guesses something that had to do with the day they were gone for the conference.

“y/n still not back?” donghyuck inquires, unease hidden by his usually bright smile. he leans onto his own fist, watching jisung seem enraptured by the sight of human food. jisung decides to respond by shaking his head, seemingly sensing the tension between donghyuck and jaemin.

donghyuck clears his throat, keeping silent as he hands jaemin over what he ordered, again avoiding eye contact. oh, they still haven’t attempted to sort a few of the differences, or maybe they talked during the conference, jeno can’t exactly remember.

“he does nothing but work” renjun’s words are muffled by the bits of toast he chews, something of irritation in his pupils. “seriously, never shuts down..”

“i heard that” it isn’t an understatement to say that everyone practically lights up when you walk through the door. jeno likes to think that he displays his adoration the best, with his ‘samoyed likeness’ and all (that’s what you and donghyuck say). there’s a warmth that emanates from your presence, a tired smile clinging to your lips. “not a workaholic, i’m just good at my job”.

“they can go hand in hand”.

jisung showcases his biggest smile of the morning, almost jumping from his seat in an effort to hug you. of course, donghyuck gets there first, squeezing the oxygen out of you. “you got here just in time, breakfast is here, eat, then go nap”.

you snort. “don’t give me demands”.

“are you not tired?” renjun opts to pipe in, it’s a rather idiotic question, everybody knows you’re tired, the bags are about to sink into your skin, but you simply wave a dismissive hand, eyes shining jisung’s way.

“enough of that, how’s my baby?”

jisung just manages a yelp before you wrap your arms around him and they tighten. oh you love him, it hurts jeno’s heart in a sickening way, you’re simply enraptured. jeno can’t help but notice jaemin, who looks equally as so, but not towards jisung, more towards you.

jaemin’s scoff of annoyance is feigned. “our, and he’s good, he was looking for you”.

“why do you work all the time?”

jisung blinks in his regular jisung manner, which jeno finds off putting, he’s beginning to note the androids individual mannerisms. “because i like to work”.

“nobody likes to work, do you have problems?”

donghyuck snorts, hiding his giggles behind his hands when he notices your peripheral glare. jeno whistles as he feigns ignorance, attempting to keep his laughs down in his head. renjun simply blinks, sending an amusing stare jisung’s way.

you raise your eyebrows, jeno guesses it was something you didn’t expect. “no jisung, it’s just when you get used to pulling all nighters as an intern, it bleeds into you pulling all nighters in general”.

“that sounds like a problem” jisung replies in a tone that implies genius. jeno supposes he does know all, but you instead stick out your tongue.

“shhh” you press a finger to his lips, completely shutting him up.

donghyuck is still giggling, maybe the act of an android asking their creator if they have problems is a degree of humor he doesn’t expect. renjun simply finds the display cute, there’s no need for words, jeno knows how he feels.

he decides to turn away, pushing down any other thoughts, he knows your time together is limited, this attachment is only making such a thing worse.

his stomach twists into something ugly, and he swallows down nothing.

X.                     “ nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change “.

it isn’t that difficult to come across you in the dead of night.

that seems to be when your most active, na jaemin only scales the halls at midnight because of the anxiety he feels rising. of course, he won’t divulge to anybody that those worries are present, really renjun doesn’t seem to enjoy talking, jeno is much too sweet for him to handle, and donghyuck.. he’s a character.

you weren’t wrong about the all nighter claim, as his eyes fixate on your figure, flipping through coding documents in a manner that’s simply so entrancing. his hands remain shoved in his pockets, his stare endless as you carry on with your coding admiration. he then smiles, why are you like this?

“rough night?” he finally speaks into the air, startling you suddenly. you settle into a silent chuckle, an empty cup of coffee dormant on the table before you. his gaze softens, and he steps closer to you, shoulders brushing in a brief moment.

“not exactly, just last minute observations, launch is soon..”

when you mutter those words, the air seems to still. it shouldn’t come as a surprise, jisung wasn’t created to be cute and tell you two he loves you, jisung was created to explore a planet uninhabitable to humans, project apollo is supposed to be just that.

jaemin takes in a deep breath. “yep, launch soon”.

the repeated words does nothing but add to the stillness of the air, which only elevates your feelings about the whole thing. you stack the papers on top of one another, sucking your teeth. “you don’t usually work with others, right? i hope i lived up to your expectations”.

it’s much more than that, why do you gaze as if i display constellations over my cheek? why do your eyes dazzle in that way? why are you you?

“you exceeded them, you’re exceptional”.

jaemin mistakens the blush on your cheeks as something other than platonic, but could you blame him? you could simply be flattered.. and na jaemin should be allowed a delusion once in a while. “i have to assume some of those words are exaggerated”.

“take the compliment”.

he doesn’t inherently beg, but the plea is heard as an undertone. you snicker, scratching behind your ear. “i could say the same, i was trying my best to impress you..”

“you didn’t exactly need me, you’re a powerhouse you know?”

you again giggle, flattery high in the air. “couldn’t have done it without you, jisung is dear to me”.

jaemin hums, shoulders again brushing with yours. “he’s basically our son anyway”.

“you’re really trying to sell that”.

“it’s true, isn’t it?”

your smile is soft, yes, it is true, but the words aren’t spoken. you again glance downward at the stack of papers formerly grasping at your attention, urging for jaemin to talk your ear off. “i guess..”

jaemin grabs at the opportunity to admire your side profile, he isn’t all about the star knowledge, but according to the many whispers from you, tonight is when the constellation auriga is present in the night sky. you said that it’s one of your favorites, auriga imitates the shape of a hexagon once all the stars connect in the sky. it’s always around your birthday that it is visible in the sky, your eyes gleam with an intrigue that could also be mistaken for enchantment.

it’s funny.

“i can teach you all there is about constellations”.

jaemin’s smile mirrors the bewitchment hidden in his pupils. “that would be nice”.

he actually doesn’t care, but the act of you talking while jaemin simply listens is his ideal type of date.

you hum, again glancing up as you pause. you blink, your stare endless as jaemin registers the sudden closeness of you two. the stars are aligning in the sky tonight, jaemin can’t help but observe the patterns of your moles and how they replicate the positions of the stars you so dearly love. everything about you is so beautiful, beautiful in a manner reminiscent of the astral cluster he usually pays no mind to.

jaemin’s gaze travels, your lips are very pretty, interesting. he’s listened around, he’s aware that he probably isn’t the only person here with such interests in you specifically, but this is probably the closest anyone has ever gotten in that regard.

you feign ignorance, eyes shifting as you notice where jaemin stares. either you’re nervous, or you simply have no idea what to say.

and really, jaemin wants to, he wants to so bad, it wouldn’t even be that much of a movement, if he just leaned closer just the slightest..

he stops himself before he can get any closer.

“you should get some sleep now, seriously” jaemin opts to say, cutting off his own thoughts with a complete topic switch. “come on.. please?”

there’s a slight whine to his tone, and your lips do an upward turn at the question, a small snicker falling from them. “maybe a few more minutes?”

“do you want for me to use force?”

you again grin at that one, smoothly sliding the stack of papers into a folder. you blow a breath between your lips, clasping your hands together. “fine then, i’ll sleep”.

“you will, i’m going to be watching you the whole entire time”.

“creep”.

jaemin sticks out his tongue as a response.

XI.                     “ how mutable are our feelings, and how strange is that clinging love we have of life in the excess of misery! “.

on the day of launch, jaemin wears all black, a sentiment to how he must be feeling. donghyuck doesn’t attempt to reach out, the sharp looks he earns are enough to keep him silent. you seem to take it a little better, not exactly wearing all black, but also unable to keep up the fixed smiles you use to erase worry.

everyone looks like they haven’t slept in a week, which, to be fair, they probably haven’t. donghyuck pays little attention to jaemin in his all, but he knows the other is missing a good week of shut eye. jeno was up all night with stomach dropping anxiety, he continuously tossed and turned in his bed, eyes remaining open until the sun rose above the horizon. renjun keeps silent, but he isn’t having a better time either, his eyes continuously fluttering shut on the commute to work.

this is supposed to be the best day of your career, what you’ve been working towards since the start of the stupid internship you all accepted. still, you all just seem the slightest bit miserable, even on the supposed happiest day of your lives.

breakfast is silent, you leave early enough that donghyuck doesn’t catch you until you all gather at the laboratory, listening to the machinery emanating noise from each corner of the room.

jaemin sits down beside him, and while donghyuck wishes to peacefully ignore his presence, it’s rendered difficult with him now right there. the younger seemingly longs to make an effort, but donghyuck still can’t talk to him without thinking of what he last said to him.

(“i almost kissed him, you know” he recalls jaemin speaking into the air five days ago, why jaemin decided to say it to him? donghyuck will never know. donghyuck paused his sorting of documents, blinking as he turned the way of his pink haired acquaintance. his face scrunched inquiringly, as if he had no idea who jaemin was talking to whilst he was the only one in close distance to him.

“who? jeno?” donghyuck’s eyes shifted his way, gaze lingering on your hands, which stayed massaging jeno’s shoulders across the room.

“what? no” jaemin replied, seemingly offended by such a suggestion, even with his insistence that jeno is ‘a pretty good looking guy..’.

donghyuck again blinked, licking his lips as his gaze settled onto jaemin once more. “so.. who?”

jaemin didn’t speak it out, simply motioned his head in the direction donghyuck stared a brief moment prior. donghyuck processed his words slowly, then his eyes widened in a manner he had absolutely no idea they could.

“y/n?” donghyuck couldn’t hide the contempt of his tone, yeah jaemin did say ‘almost’, but does that really matter? jaemin was the new guy, yet he was the only one who managed to get close enough, his jealousy wasn’t exactly unreasonable.

because donghyuck could understand how it is with jeno, he’d gotten much used to it at that point. no, how could na jaemin just.. find the courage so easily? it was an ego bruiser he didn’t expect.

“so why didn’t you then?” donghyuck hid his scorn behind more disdain he tried to use as a weapon, a wall, it didn’t matter. “and why are you telling me about this?”

“i don’t know.. guess i just felt he wouldn’t want it”.

jaemin sounded hurt, how rich. if donghyuck had to guess who you’d be with out of everyone else in the team, it would probably be jaemin, the newbie who’s just as much a robot nerd as you are. it was a match made in heaven.

“i’m not the one he wants”.

donghyuck assumed he was lying at that point, jaemin was playing with him, taunting him with knowledge only he had from the variety of time he spent with you. “sure, and did he tell you that?”

jaemin’s shrug was empty. “he didn’t have to, just.. if you get the opportunity, then you should probably take it”.

what the fuck.

did na jaemin really just tell donghyuck that if he had the opportunity to kiss you, he should take it? the other stared into practically nothing, jaemin finished with what he had to say, there were no more words left for him to utter.

“..alright”.)

donghyuck can’t exactly resist the urge, which is unfortunate for him because he had a good avoiding jaemin track record that’s pretty golden to him. is he really that curious?

“you okay?” donghyuck inquires, an eyebrow raise being his go to add on. jaemin looks one snap away from punching him, his balled up fist frightens donghyuck, who scoots one seat away to ensure his own safety. for all of jaemin’s expressions, donghyuck has never seen him look so unhappy. grumpy, sometimes. irritated, mostly with him, but the grief marring his expression is much too intense.

jaemin’s gaze remains fixated on you, performing regular actions that appear to be much more because of how you do it. “not sure what i was expecting” he whispers so quietly it aches. “jupiter is far away, it’ll take him only seven months, guess i can commend you guys for that one”.

right, any regular journey to jupiter would take six years at best, the architecture of project apollo as a whole is really the saving grace of this mission. donghyuck would probably die having to wait six years for jisung and the spacecraft to even land on jupiter, he can’t imagine how you’d feel.

“god fuck this”.

donghyuck glances your way, eyeing the shine in your irises as you gaze upon a model of jupiter, jisung’s cheek pressed onto your shoulder. jupiter has never been your favorite planet, you often deem it ‘the overrated planet’, because, in your own words; “it’s color scheme isn’t my favorite, all that helium nauseates me”.

you can always find something to focus on, even the things that seem so unimportant. “anything can be unique if you’re open minded enough hyuckie”.

he barely contains his giggles at the recollection of your words, he’s afraid of asking about your feelings, because while you’ve never been one to give snippy responses, there’s still a voice in the back of his mind reminding him of your unpredictability, he shouldn’t be so quick to think that.

“he’ll be fine”.

“jisung is like.. his pride and joy, he won’t take it well”.

and clearly, neither will you.

donghyuck forbids such words from escaping his lips, launch is in an hour, he should focus.

XII.                     “ when falsehood can look so like the truth, who can assure themselves of certain happiness? “.

jisung’s first communication falls on a sunday.

renjun remembers the day of the week because it comes the day after donghyuck’s birthday. he specifically remembered that one because you all spent donghyuck’s birthday at the lab, paired with little to no bickering with jaemin, and a privilege which included being able to kiss you all he wanted. it’s somewhere around four in the morning that renjun jolts awake from where he laid down on his desk to find you staring at the screen in wide-eyed awe.

<<< …happy birthday donghyuck!

<<< good morning, i love you. did i miss it?

it would usually take months, even up to years for messages to travel this far. that was a long while ago, though. now, it only takes a good twenty three hours for messages to be received, which is definitely shorter than the time it takes to travel there. seven months, you now spend much more time at the laboratory than prior, waiting by the screen in the control room for any kind of message.

there isn’t a character limit to the messages, conversations can go on forever, like he never left. sort of like he never left, renjun thinks it’s a bit off in terms of timing, but it’s enough to please both you and jaemin.

renjun scurries closer, face illuminated by the dark blue screen.

jisung takes pictures of a lot of important things, just like he was programmed to do. sometimes, he doesn’t even photograph things that are that important, yet it can still be perceived as such.

jaemin appears out of nowhere, arms folded over his chest as he squints his eyes at the screen right in front of him. renjun has enough energy to produce a lethargic chuckle.

<<< i think this ball of gas kind of looks like a bunny, doesn’t it?

<<< [IMAGE ATTACHED]

“oh, i see it” jaemin breaths, blinking a few times in a pattern of recognition.

donghyuck jolts awake from where he’d been quietly snoring on jeno’s shoulder. “i do too”.

your nose scrunches, just barely registering renjun’s hand coming to hold yours. “yeah, same here”.

<<< the stars are really beautiful right now!

<<< see? it’s aquarius, y/nie said that’s one of his favorites!

<<< remember?

<<< did jaemin lose his ring yet?

right, the ring. it was a request on jisung’s part, everyone got matching rings after he saw snow for the first time. jaemin did lose the ring actually, it slipped down into the cushions of the main room and he lost his mind trying to find it. he seemed so genuinely torn up by it that everyone swore to secrecy, much too afraid of how jisung would react to such news.

“of course not” you’re quick to lie, nudging jaemin with your shoulder. “next time you see the stars like that, make sure to take a picture with you in it okay? i miss seeing your face”.

there’s a hint of anguish in your tone, your eyes a shade of red that’s terrifying to an impossible extent. renjun continues to caress your hands with are still laced together, thumb smoothing over your knuckles as a gesture of fondness. it’ll be okay, i’m here, everyone is here, we get how you feel.

the words aren’t spoken, simply dissolved.

for the next few minutes, you all take turns replying to jisung’s messages, and renjun can tell, all of you needed this. though it’d be hard to reach such words through all your pigheaded attitudes, it’s nice knowing that a message finally came around, there was an anxiety in the air that all of you could feel, yet you simply left unsaid.

it’s hard to be here without him sometimes, because though it won’t be said, everyone feels as if they’re missing a piece of themselves with him gone. renjun never thought he would be able to get to this point, he never thought an attachment was even possible, he guesses he was wrong about that part.

donghyuck again passes out against jeno when it’s all over, jaemin placing a hand on your shoulder which lingers before he again settles on a nearby chair.

you remain stuck on the bright blue light which permeates from the screen, seemingly enraptured. renjun stays beside you, hands still together.

“he’ll be okay” he whispers, not exactly sure of those words but speaking them anyway. he wants to ensure at least a measure of peace for you, anything to result in the anxiety dissipating from your features. “trust yourself, alright?”

you don’t respond, simply blink once again.

it’s your own way of uttering the words; i don’t know if i can.

XIII.                     “ man, i cried, ‘how ignorant art thou in thy pride of wisdom!’ “.

it isn’t helped by the fact that nine months into project apollo’s first mission, jisung suddenly goes offline.

“what do you mean he’s gone offline?” jaemin reiterates, as if the prospect of that actually being possible is completely off the table.

i told you so, jeno thinks in his mind, his heart sinks into his stomach. of course this was going to happen, i knew this was going to happen.

donghyuck looks helpless, something that is frightening to jeno, not surprising, unnerving. “comms to the ship are still active for now” he explains, voice just barely holding up against an upcoming tremble. “calm down, we’re still trying to reach him, maybe he’s just late to respond, maybe—”

“he’s never late” jaemin cuts in, hair tousled in every direction. jeno is, again, terrified. the room is silent, if you take away the arguing, renjun is tryibg his best to keep himself together, and your own silence is nerve-racking, your eyes trained on the screen before you. “he’s never late donghyuck, so don’t tell me to fucking calm down alright? have you checked the log for any unusual activity?”

jeno is grateful for his ringing ears, the argument bleeding out into uncomfortable background noise. you bite down into your bottom lip, quickly drawing blood with the force you put into your action. jeno almost breaks the silence by inquiring to you about the whole thing, but of course, they can’t shut up.

“this was probably caused by your shitty work, so much for your robotic skills” donghyuck makes sure to mock jaemin’s voice, jabbing a finger in the square of her chest, crowding in his face.

“my fault?” jaemin scoffs, pushing him back with a heavy shove of the shoulder. “my work is fucking flawless, donghyuck, don’t take out your frustrations on me because you miscalculated and caused this mess!”

“oh but that’s exactly what you’re doing now isn’t it? don’t try to act so high and mighty when you’re genuinely being a fucking hypocrite!”

it seems that this fight is about to well out into the physical territory, but you then speak up; “if you two can’t be quiet then you should just get out”.

you pinch the bridge of your nose, grinding your teeth in motions which displays your irritation. no, it isn’t your tone, it’s your actions. your voice is simply soft, a whisper that could barely be heard even in the pin drop silence.

they both long to sneak in one last word, jeno can see it in the twitching of their facial muscles, but as to not upset you, they shut up. donghyuck huffs, storming his way out, unfortunately not taking the awkwardness of it all with him. it’s not long before jaemin exits as well, but not before he glances at you with simply.. grief.

renjun only continues his silence as a form of fear, jeno knows you wouldn’t, but he’s also aware that part of him is afraid to speak in fear of pissing you off.

you kick at the station in front of you, not hard, but it still earns a flinch. you suck your teeth, just barely registering jeno’s presence beside you. “i just need time to think..” you mutter, resting your head against the control panel.

there’s a beat of silence which prolongs. it’s too much of time, it’s as if your fate hangs in the air, something of an unknown future that none of you can control no matter how much you attempt to. there can’t be another failure, renjun and jeno know that enough, the glances they exchange only elevate that point.

“do you really think he’s just late to respond?” you ask, blinking away some sort of devastation behind your eyes. it’s less of saddening and more of terrifying, everyone remembers the mess which was project athena, how much of a terrible state the failure of the mission put you in, this is really your last shot at this, whether you’re aware or not.

“i hope not, i—”

“that’s not what i asked jen, please” you aren’t one to plead. jeno hates it, you’re usual carefree attitude accompanied by pride replaced by pure agony. jeno can’t give you a sure answer, because he doesn’t know, and the fact itself is enough to amplify his own anxiety.

his mouth twists. “..no” it seems you expected that answer, but the disappointment is still clear. “but i don’t know what could’ve possibly gone wrong”.

jeno catches the twitch of your left eye, and he allows for your head to fall onto his shoulder. “what if they were right?” you say, rising from your place, pupils blown out in a frightened manner. “what if it’s my fault and we never get to see him again? what if—”

“y/n” jeno doesn’t let you finish, he grabs your hands and soothes his thumbs over the soft skin. “don’t say that, we’re going to see him again” he hopes his expression conveys the.. truth in his words. “we will, swear”.

renjun opts to rub the back of your shoulder in an attempt to calm your nerves. you take in a deep breath, blinking downward towards the floor. “right, i’m not gonna stop trying..” you mutter, smoothing your hands over your face.

the truth is, the moment jisung left, everyone knew that this was possible, that failure could be on the horizon whenever, no matter your circumstances. it’s the slightest bit comforting to know that, offline or not, jisung is still out there. that means there’s also a possibility of bringing him back too.

jeno knows you’ll take any chance there is, it doesn’t matter how much you have to put into it.

<<< my battery is getting low.

<<< it’s cold, i’m going to sleep. just for a little bit..

XIV.                     “ …the companions of our childhood always possess a certain power over our minds which hardly any later friend can obtain “.

that’s unfortunately easier said than done. you’ve been trying to contact jisung for three months, but the government isn’t going to fund a rescue mission to save something they don’t even deem alive, no matter the persuasion or the arguments put up against them.

project apollo was a success, prototype 205 served it’s purpose. there is no reason to organize a mission to rescue the android or the spacecraft it piloted, it’s all said and done.

one official asks jaemin, “can’t you just make a new one?”

he leaves the question without comment.

jaemin heard from fleeting whispers that doyoung decides to keep your position. interesting. he opts to locking himself in his own apartment for two weeks, practically sinking into his feat of isolation until you and renjun have to forcibly drag him out back to work then to your apartment.

he doesn’t verbalize his thanks, he instead decides to cook breakfast for all of you as his own silent appreciation.

sinking into work is mundane for you, and when jaemin slowly slips into similar habits, he can’t help but think of you.

good morning, i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you, i lov—

“seems like you need it” a cup of coffee is placed onto the table before him, and the dragging chair releases a cry as you take a seat. “please drink it” you plead, now much too used to the sight of jaemin’s frown.

he gives a glance, then, he smiles, not too big of a smile, simply a small one. it’s nice to be alone with you for once, just for a little while.. over coffee..

“too much caffeine, i might go crazy”.

“think it’s a little too late to be worrying about that one” you decide to respond, tapping onto the table in a specific pattern. you take jaemin’s hand into yours, examining his bare fingers. “i can get you a new one”.

“it’d be like replacing it” jisung would know.

there’s a certain look of distaste behind your eyes jaemin so wishes he could decipher, because for all his smarts, it feels that you’re specifically difficult to solve. he can’t decode you no matter how hard he tries.

a frown tugs at your lips, as if you’ve been in a difficult spot, you speak; “i’ll pay, just.. think about it”.

i won’t give up on him.

we won’t give up on him.

(“neptune is really your favorite?” jaemin inquired with a clear indication that it was an eye-opener for him. even jisung seemed surprised by such a revelation, his human like eyes blinking once, twice, thrice as you began chuckling at the shared expressions.

“what? did you not expect it or something?” you giggled, head tipping downward as you fixed the placement of your glasses. “it’s the planet i’m most interested in, even before my internship”.

jaemin recalls the manner in which jisung glanced over at him, the intrigue behind his eyes reminiscent of your very own. there was a warmth in his chest that he’s sure could never be replicated, not only due to jisung, but also due to you. he blinked as he ruffled the other’s hair, again staring your way. “it’s always been more about the robotics for me”.

there was a conflict in your expression. “are you telling me you don’t have a favorite planet?”

the playfulness of your expression betrayed the gravitas you attempted to display, because you really couldn’t contain your amusement, jisung blinked up at jaemin, sharing the confusion with you. “even jisung has one, have you really not thought about it?”

jaemin shook his head, now the one under speculation. “space is not a huge interest of mine”.

“that’s boring!” jisung whined, and your hum of agreement earned an eyebrow raise. jaemin’s gasp of offense was most definitely overdramatized, and jisung giggled at the expression. “it doesn’t have to be deep or anything, just pick one, my favorite is saturn..”

jaemin had to resist a coo at jisung’s irresistible charm, he again twirled a strand of jisung’s hair between his finger. “i guess.. venus?”

both you and jisung let out a synonymous groan, drawing a sigh of irritation from jaemin. “of course you picked the boring one” jisung mumbled, jaemin’s resounding gasp full of the vexation he felt.

“what is that supposed to mean!?”

“jisungie is calling you boring nana”.

jaemin allowed for his bottom lip to jut out, his arms folding over his chest in a feigned display of stubbornness as he heard jisung begin snickering.

and you? you were simply enamored. jaemin was too, but for a contrasting reason.)

jaemin looks up at you, your gaze trained on your now empty cup of coffee. the smell remains lingered in the air, jaemin hasn’t touched his yet, much too busy reminiscing on specific memories. you zone out much too easily, he snaps his fingers in front of your face, and you startle out of it. “why’d you dye your hair pink?”

there’s a childish curiosity lacing your tone, nail scratching at the metal surface of the table. jaemin keeps his hum light, his eyes traveling towards the model of the solar system, lasering on jupiter. fucking jupiter. “i like pink”.

you seem to enjoy that answer. “it’s pretty”.

jaemin unconsciously tenses, nails picking at his cuticles. “..thank you”.

he knows the sudden anxiety doesn’t go past you, nothing ever goes past you, it’s just the slightest bit frightening. the upward curve of your eyes imitates your very own smile, and you slide your chair backward, rising from your spot. “don’t worry, alright?”

jaemin isn’t sure it’s that easy, but for you, he’ll be sure to try.

he clears his throat, pulling you into a quick embrace that catches you off guard, if your small yelp is any indication. he can’t help the tightening of his arms, pressing himself against you in a moment of clarity. you chuckle into the air, reciprocating the affectionate gesture with your arms around his waist. “sorry, too surprising?” he mumbles into your shoulder.

he simply needed this.

“no, it’s alright, sometimes everyone needs a hug”.

jaemin squeezes again, taking a deep breath. he keeps silent for a while, remaining stuck to you as he collects his next few words. “i love you” he whispers, lips doing a downturn.

your eyebrow raises, and jaemin is sure you heard those words, because you chuckle again.

XV.                     “ my spirit will sleep in peace; or if it thinks, it will not surely think thus. farewell “.

jisung’s birthday is on february fifth. when jeno inquired as to why, you stated that “he fits much of the aquarius qualities”.

jeno took the initiative to study it. aquarius is the eleventh astrological sign, originating from the eponymous constellation. it’s ruling planet is uranus. aquarius are famously innovative, creative, analytical, spirited, loyal, loyalty, you muttered it to him the first time everyone met jisung, when he asked you about his name, your nails tracing the spelling into the palm of his hand. he finds it nice how things like that come back around.

tonight, aquarius is in the night sky. aquarius is one of your favorite constellations (but now that jeno thinks about it, all of them seem to be your favorite). jisung has never been able to see it, he left for jupiter before the constellation would be present in the sky, but both you and jaemin made sure to inform him of its existence, with him being an aquarius.

jeno disappointedly watches as the hope quickly dissipates from both your and jaemin’s expressions the longer days go without a message from jisung. you haven’t given up just yet, you’ll never give up on jisung, you told jeno that yourself.

project apollo remains running, the spacecraft is all intact, but there hasn’t been an update on jisung at all. the visible unhappiness gracing your features is upsetting, jeno can’t recall the last time you were so down, your usual cheerfulness no longer around to comfort him.

donghyuck tries his best, managing to squeeze a few well deserved giggles out of you. there seems to be something off with jaemin, he avoids eye contact with you in the most not jaemin like way possible, strange. in contrast to him, renjun is much more.. well.. willing to approach.

really, jeno guesses it must be obvious by now, and jeno doesn’t just mean renjun. he means him, donghyuck, jaemin, all of them alike, they don’t have to repeat it for all of them to know how it feels.

donghyuck has slowly hinted to jeno over the years since he’s joined, but he never acts upon it. jeno never knew why, he always thought the headstrong, perverse donghyuck would take up such a challenge, yet he never attempted. he assumed that you and donghyuck would be a pretty good match.

but he only ever thought that because he assumed it would quell his own jealousy.

renjun could never hide it well enough, his easy blushing stuttering words gave it away pretty quickly. it wasn’t even a week after his initial arrival that he probably realized.

jaemin.. jaemin was always the hardest to decode for jeno. maybe the bonding over robots, and by proxy, the creation of jisung, was what caused the enchantment. jeno can’t even find it in himself to be possessive or jealous of any sort, he just.. gets it. jaemin is captivated by every single one of your actions, jeno has never been able to share such a feeling with a person.

renjun’s cheek presses against the window, gaze trained on the barely visible stars in the sky. you hum the familiar tune of ‘shining star’ by earth wind and fire, engrossed in the song you’ve become so accustomed to. jeno knows why, he recalls you uttering; “it’s a classic, got me through university and this stupid internship..”

jeno finds your descriptions of things, even the things that usually don’t matter, to be so beautiful.

“words are just so great, you know? i can call anything pretty, beautiful, amazing, prepossessing, it’s just so.. fitting”.

jeno adores you, adores your heart and your soul and your fondness towards the weirdest of adjectives.

jeno taps in rhythm with your humming, the lyrics aren’t sung, but he can still picture them in his mind.

you’re a shining star

no matter who you are

shining bright to see

what you could truly be

you’re a shining star..

“should we go stargazing?”

instantly donghyuck perks up, his hair all over the place. jeno chuckles at the sight, reaching over to put at least some of the strands back in place. “what time is it?” he mumbles, staring down at his bare wrist, no watch in sight.

“twenty minutes to midnight” jaemin replies, glancing over at the window, squinting in an attempt to get a better view of the constellations. “doesn’t seem like a bad idea”.

“aquarius is in the night sky”.

right, renjun’s constellation knowledge is easily comparative to yours. you slip on a sweater as you tap donghyuck on the shoulder, then intertwining your fingers with jeno’s. “oh don’t tell me we’re going to sneak up?”

there’s a fitting expression of amusement gracing your features, but you don’t respond, simply humming.

jaemin doesn’t put up much of a fight, renjun seems enthralled by such an idea, jeno is aware that he often sneaks up onto the roof to watch the stars from time to time, donghyuck makes brash comments every few minutes, but it’s clear he doesn’t care, sneaking around is probably his favorite past time (jeno knows much more than he wishes to).

“shit, much colder than i thought it would be” jaemin mutters, again avoiding eye contact with you as you give a small chuckle. “jisung would complain”.

“why do you sound annoyed? you’re the one who programmed that!”

“i didn’t! he just naturally does that! he’s like a child..”

you push at jaemin’s shoulder, yelping as you watch him stumble. donghyuck snorts, pointing at the sight with pure amusement. “please don’t die, you know doyoung would be pissed” jeno whispers, jaemin stays glaring (but can it even be called a glare with the love behind his eyes?)

renjun keeps his hands settled in his lap as he stares upward. “really? only because doyoung would be pissed?”

“you know he doesn’t want any bad associated with the lab’s name”.

“if only he knew” donghyuck clicks his tongue, tilting his head as he rubs his eyes.

jeno’s squint, and his lips take an upturn. he can just barely make out the shape of a water bearer in the sky, someone pouring water out of a jug. huh, aquarius really is pretty.

the shine from the stars reflects in your widened pupils. you blink, then you snicker at something unsaid. “think jisung would like this one..”

jeno’s eyebrows furrow, yet he keeps his face still, still enough that you won’t pick up on the falter of his expression. you hum once again, swinging your legs back and forth.

“i miss him”.

it’s an admittedly strange claim. everybody knows already, the honesty shouldn’t be a surprising factor. there’s less of a tremble in your tone and more of a simple scratch, a rasp in your voice which can be attributed to your days spent staring at a control screen with no reply.

jeno leans against you, letting the warmth encapsulate him as he watches you smile peripherally. jaemin merely sighs, clearly sharing such emotions.

jeno’s smile grows when you nudge him, pointing upward at a shooting star.

“pretty huh?”

jeno doesn’t respond, not exactly focused on the stars, just you.

[larz-barz]

Taking risks, saving lives

——————————————————————————

Warning(s)/info: Almost character death, gore, angst, angst to reverse comfort, pre-TanjMilo (cause like- they met when Nezuko and Tanjiro were on trial-)

Tagging: @risingscorchingsuns @knyinfinity @kimetsu-chan(don’t kill me pls;-;) @shycroissanti

——————————————————————————

The battle is done right?

Enmu is dead now so it must be!

Wrong…

A malicious chuckle can be heard as a demon comes out of the forest.

Upper moon 3…

Kyojuro gets in a protective stance in front of the 3 teens and Nezuko and he blocks Milo from joining him.

“No, Milo… Stay back. Heal their wounds for me, okay?” He asks the younger hashira and she nods despite knowing she should help him.

Milo flinches as she, Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu, and Nezuko listen to the raging battle.

Milo finishes healing Tanjiro and her eyes widen in fear as she scrambles up to jump to protect Kyojuro.

Akaza has his arm back, about to punch through Kyojuro and he instead punches through Milo.

“SUZUKI-SAMA!!!” Tanjiro cries out and before he can run to her, she weakly holds her hand out to stop him.

Kyojuro’s eyes fill with tears as he gently holds the young girl in his arms after she’d stumbled back into him.

The sun starts to rise slowly so Akaza runs off into the shelter of the woods.

Tanjiro lets out a loud, raging growl as he throws his sword at Akaza in attempt to kill him.

Kyojuro gently props Milo up against a tree and she smiles weakly.

“I-I’m glad you’re okay K-Kyojuro-sama….” She murmurs weakly.

Tanjiro runs over, along with Zenitsu, and Inosuke.

Nezuko had already been carefully placed into her box.

Tanjiro slides across the muddy ground on his knees, tears are pouring down his cheeks.

“A-are you going to be okay S-Suzuki-sama…??” He croaks out through his tears.

She sighs sadly. “I…. I don’t know if I can heal myself from something like this…. I-I’m terribly sorry… I would’ve loved to have gotten to know the 4 of you better…. A-and you can just call me Milo….”

“N-no don’t say that!! You’re gonna survive and we can spar and fight together all day every day!!!” Inosuke yells through his own tears.

“I’ll see you guys soon…. If I don’t make it…. promise me you’ll defeat Muzan for me….?” She asks weakly and they all nod shakily.

“Milo, please don’t talk like this! You’re going to survive! I just know it!” Kyojuro exclaims through his tears.

Milo’s eyes flutter shut as she smiles weakly.

Kyojuro breathes a sigh of relief when he hears her still breathing.

He picks her up very gently.

There’s no time to wait for any kakushis.

They, very quickly, race Milo to the butterfly mansion.

Nearly 4 months later, Milo wakes up and feels a pair of arms around herself.

She looks to see who’s cuddling her and she blushes when she sees Tanjiro’s sleeping form hugging her close.

Tanjiro’s eyes flutter open and he starts crying again as he hugs Milo tightly.

Milo hugs him back, suppressing her own tears.

“M-Milo thank goodness you’re ok!!” He cries out as he cries into her shoulder.

Milo gently rubs his back, smiling softly since he remembered her request to be called by her first name. “Y-yes… How are you..? A-and everyone else..?”

“We’re all okay too!” He eventually calms down but he doesn’t let go of Milo, she doesn’t mind though.

“….M-Milo….?” He calls out, breaking the calm silence.

“Hm…?” The yokai responds and slightly tilts her head after pulling away just enough to look at him.

He has something very important he wants, no, he needs to tell her.

Something he needs to confess…

“N-nevermind. It’s not that important!”

~the end~

Hehe- I’m mean Ik- 😂

[theeccentricraven]

The 14th Day of Writemas, Part 1! 😮🎄

Thank you again @agirlandherquill for the the wonderful writing prompt and tag game in one! I've really been enjoying these ❤️😊To anyone who would like to know the rules of this tag game, check out the invitation post and feel free to join in!

I slept in late on this Saturday so I got a pretty late start with this, but I made it in the end 😄 For the Day 14 writing prompts, it was a little hard for me to choose. There were two that were so perfect I decided to do both. I picked "The joy of seeing" and "the pain of leaving". Both are kind of long so I decided to create two posts. For the first one, I decided to work on rewriting a scene from The Blood Cleaners that involves Justin enjoying the beauty of the night. The scene was inspired by the beautiful song by Malukah, "I follow the moon" a song that touches me so much that I plan to incorporate it into all of my stories. Much of this scene is also silly romantic dialogue. 😘🥰

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Justin navigated the night much easier with the clear sky above. The waxing gibbous and stars lit the ground like a ghostly glow. The silhouettes of the farms, distant Urbia, and the Steel loomed against the horizon. No need for a flashlight, allowing him and Joselyn to evade security for another night.  He met Joselyn at the same spot in the green field with the tree where they carved their names. She already had her favorite red and orange blanket laid out. She also had her lantern out. They were far enough away from any road and house that no one would see the lantern light. As Justin always said, if they were far enough to not smell a blood spill, they were far enough away from people.

As Justin lay down next to her, he yawned. 

“I’m not tired,” he lied. 

Joselyn chuckled. “We’re two and a half hours past bedtime. I don’t blame you.”

The two lay flat on the blanket, staring up at the stars. The waxing moon glowed against the canvas of the night. The stars were like a white sweets that glittered against a bluish black blanket. The purple hues of the Milky Way beamed like a strange cloud. Never had Justin’s eyes seen such beauty. 

“Jos,” Justin said in awe, “you don’t know what you have.”

“What do you mean, Jus?”

“In the tunnels, we don’t see the stars and moon. We’re stuck with the concrete ceiling.”

Joselyn put her fingers in his hair. “You’re right. It’s beautiful. I actually liked homework assignments that called for me to go out at night and look for the constellations and moon phases and all that. But I still like staying at your place. It feels so cozy. And it’s away from my papá. It just doesn’t have the moon.”

Justin stroked her hair in return. “I’d stand on my toes and pick up the moon from the sky if I could. And I’d give it to you.”

Joselyn giggled. “Jus, if you ask me, the moon is just hanging there like it’s waiting to be taken!”

“Well, yeah. It wants you to hold it in your hands.”

Joselyn snorted. “Oh, Jus, that gift would beat any copper ring or box of sweets!”

“Of course! You deserve the best!”

She brushed her nose against his. She traced a shape on the blanket, like she was thinking. “You know what, Jus, that moon reminds me so much of myself.”

“Of course, Jos, you’re just as pretty as la luna up there.”

 “Not in that way. It’s more to do with how…well…you’ve seen the phases of the moon, correct?”

“I have.”

“Just as sometimes the moon is full and sometimes half sized, I feel like sometimes I’m full and sometimes I’m half empty. When the moon is black, it’s like I’m not there, but hiding. Hiding from all that life throws at me. And when the moon is rising, I’m rising.” Joselyn took her hand out of Justin’s hair and held his hand. “And when I feel full, and when I rise high, it’s when I’m with you, Jus.”

He squeezed her hand. “Jos, you deserve some credit, too.”

“For what?”

“Working your butt off. Surviving just as you promised. Saying what needs to be said. Showing that you mean it when you say you care about others. Because you do.”

“Thanks Jus. That’s sweet of you. But seriously, what you’ve done…. The whole town has been talking. It’s like a lazy bull was kicked and woke up. Those children have a better life and a better future. All because of you. And they don’t even know that they have you to thank.”

Justin felt a little sheepish. “I don’t know. I still can’t understand it. How am I doing it? What exactly is happening when I’m talking to the machines? Is it magic? Am I a wizard? Aren’t they just making believe?”

Joselyn rubbed his shoulder. “I don’t know, Jus. What you’re doing questions everything the teachers taught us. Maybe magic is real. Or maybe it’s something else. I almost wonder if the Fists would know exactly what it is, but they would never tell us. Like it’s a secret.”

“Honestly, if they knew, I’d like some answers. Sometimes not understanding what it is just drives me crazy. Maybe I am just crazy. A freak of nature”

“Jus, you are the most sane person I know. And the kindest, sweetest, handsomest….”

Justin grinned. “Jos, if you’re going to make me blush, I’m going to make you blush. You’re the most beautiful, caring, sexy…”

Joselyn roared with laughter. “Don’t go there!”

“Hey, you deserve a compliment, Jos!”

“Wipe that stinker look off your face, Jus!”

Justin widened his grin.

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Tagging writer mutuals! (No pressure to join but hope you can!) ❤️🤍💚🍒🦌👼❄️☃️🎶🕯️🔔🎁⛷️🏂🥁🧝⛸️🎅🤶🎄

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and Open!

[arklaytears]

Confident When I’m With You [Pt.1?] (Joel x F! Anxious/Shy! Reader)

t/w: anxiety attacks, ptsd flashbacks, mentions of being sold, drinking, mean! joel

a/n: this has taken me a couple days to write, and i’m too anxious to fully read over it again.  i want to try a slowburn something and really wanted to see an anxious reader with joel.  building a relationship off of that.  please please please tell me what you think, i hope you like it and yeah!-

·̩̩̥＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥·̩̩̥＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥·̩̩̥＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

  When the apocalypse started, you were nothing but 5 years old.  Barely able to remember anything aside from the fear and panic in your family’s eyes as they did their best to flee from the all too fucked up situation.

Vividly you remember your mother speaking to you, her hands wrapped tightly around yours as she spoke,

“Hey, you don’t need to be scared.  I promise.” 

Though you can still feel just how much her hands were shaking as she helped to buckle you into your neighbor's car. 

The blood on her hands, even more spurting violently from her neck, you could still feel it when you laid in bed and let your mind wander.  The streak she’d left on your cheek as she leaned in for one final kiss to your forehead, before she shut the door to the truck, your final goodbye.

The last vision was of you pulling out with your neighbors, looking out the window the best you could to see the woman you had been raised all alone by.  Tears streamed down her face as she collapsed to the ground, her wails heard even through the closed window.  Your neighbors quickly peel away, and drive to where you were to reside for the next 20 years.

Before you could reminisce any further, you felt your hands tangled in your sheets.  Knuckles white as you hold them as tightly as you could.  Your breathing was uneven, and when you did your best to look at your watch in the minimal light coming in through your window, you realized you’d only slept for 20 minutes.

A new record, at least as of late.

Sleep had not been kind to you in all the time since you’d made it to the Boston QZ.  After being abandoned by the

‘neighbors’

you held your trust in for the last two decades, you had to find somewhere to go.  The closest being Boston.

Luckily, through the process, though no one was kind to you upon your arrival, you were able to get a bed and find some sort of peace under FEDRA rule.

You’d only been there a few days, and each day you found it harder and harder to get any sleep.  So, knowing that you would be up in your bed once again until it was time to rise and shine, you decided to be a little productive in caring for your new living space, getting in a bit of cleaning.

·̩̩̥＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥·̩̩̥＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥·̩̩̥＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥

Then the sun rose, coloring the sky in soft orange as it rose over the buildings of the QZ.  Though you didn’t have much left, you moved to your kitchen to grab the coffee that you had brewed yourself.  Beans you were able to find on scavenging trips, that you'd had hidden away for months.  Hiding things being much more difficult when it came to the family you were living with before.

Now definitely being the time you needed them most.  But, you’d already been dressed, and wanted to explore and see possibly what sort of jobs you’d be able to get starting the next day.

Grabbing for your key to your apartment, you head out.  Locking the door quickly behind you.

Looking down to your hands, you could see they were definitely shaking.  You gulped the best you could, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself before you made your way out of the building.

It was just a FEDRA establishment, just people surviving just like you were.. That’s all it was.  No need to panic.  Please, no more panicking.

·̩̩̥＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥·̩̩̥＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥·̩̩̥＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥

The day found itself uneventful, as you’d been rejected for all jobs except for being told to help with gardening.  One of the jobs that paid the least, but the man had refused every other job that he spoke of.  Maybe it was for a lack of trust, or maybe that was all you looked capable of.

Holding the small piece of paper in your hand, you crushed it slightly under the weight of your fist.  You needed to get money, to be able to survive here.  Yet, it didn’t seem like it was going to be all that easy.

Walking back, you shoved your hands into your jeans pockets, kicking along a small pebble before you’d heard the murmuring of a crowd.  Looking up, you saw a large group gathered around what seemed to be a public display of shame.

You approached cautiously, but found your stomach turning in upset at the sight above you.  Three humans standing on a large wooden lift, each with a noose respectively in front of them.  A woman dressed in all black military gear, speaking through what looked to be a walkie connected to a speaker behind her.

Lurching forward, you wrapped your arms around yourself, that all too familiar of an anxiety rising up in your throat.  Like tears were threatening to fall, and acid was rising through your esophagus.  Your breathing felt more labored, and you had to look away.  The idea of how big of a crowd was here to watch, like this was some sort of entertaining sport made your skin crawl.

As you looked to the side, you saw a man with his back to you as he began walking toward the side street.  Following his path with your eyes, you saw him approaching another FEDRA agent, this one having his gaze set on the stranger you’d just seen. Giving him a seemingly knowing nod to his left.  Following the motion, you saw it led to a dingy looking walkway.

After they’d disappeared from sight, you contemplated.  What the fuck were those two up to?  A civilian going to a back alley deal with a FEDRA agent? 

The woman on her speaker spoke again, speaking of more of the crimes those lined up had committed against the dictatorship that was this new post-apocalypse government.

Fuck this.

In that moment, you decided to follow the stranger quietly, pushing through the crowd as gently as you could to catch up to the two.  Anything was better than knowing you were going to see three human beings be executed for an audience.

Doing your best, you followed the man from a distance once you’d caught up.  Though, as he moved down a gravel path, you took a moment in trying to figure out how to follow quietly. 

Taking a breath, you took a few steps along, being sure to keep holding back and allowing the two to do what they needed to do.  Or maybe this stranger was in trouble?  You didn’t really know, but you followed along the grating of the fence, until you could peek through it and see the two men in front of this green door that was kept away in its own little nook. 

Crouching down as you noticed the man from FEDRA taking one last peek around before digging in his pocket for a stack of… something.  It looked to be like money, handing it to the stranger in his blue-button up and tousled salt and pepper hair.  Though you couldn’t see much of the man you’d followed, the guard looked less than pleased.

What the fuck could this even be?  Some sort of sex thing?  Fuck, if it was anything like that you would have to get the hell out of there.

But, no sooner than you’d had the thought, you saw him being handed a small white pill.  Dropped into his hand, as he looked over it, saying something while he did.  Quickly he pulled it up to his tongue, getting a small taste of it.  Surely to check if it was real, before he nodded to the other, and was handed a bag filled with more of those little capsules.

Wait fuck, this man was able to get pills?  From where?  And, from whom?

Holding your position, you kept peeking above the patch of overgrown grass that hid your body behind it.  Seeing him pour the tablets into his pocket before handing the bag back to the civilian.

Shit, would he be able to get you something like that?  Not even much, just something to let you be able to sleep.  Just one peaceful night was all that you asked. 

The two’s exchange continued, them talking about something that you were completely out of earshot for.  Yet, as the guard pushed himself off from the wall, you knew it was your time to get out of there.  The two seemed to have made their peace with the deal and wanted to get back to their day.

You stood up, being sure you couldn’t see the two before you had fully risen to your feet, and moved back to where the crowd was slowly dispersing.  Averting your eyes from what you knew was hanging on your right. 

Moving forward, you moved to the phone pole that the guard seemed to be leaning against before meeting up for his deal.  Clutching it in your grip slightly as you take another steadying breath.  Maybe that man would even be able to give you medication to stop these attacks from overcoming every small aspect of your life.

“Hey.”

Your heart felt like it had leapt from your chest, and you jumped quickly into the air before turning to meet whomever was speaking to you.

The stranger.

Here you were, face to face with the man you’d followed to something you definitely didn’t need to be a witness to.  His arms were crossed over his broad chest, his chestnut eyes looking as though they would pierce a hole right through you, and his left eyebrow cocked up in a quizzical way.

“H-”

He cut you off, his voice low and gruff.  Commanding as he spoke,

“What the fuck were you doing watching me?  And, who the fuck do you think you are?”

The man had taken a step forward, using his commandeering demeanor to back you further up into the phone pole.  You gulped hard, visibly so.  Which definitely was not unnoticed by the unwavering man.

“I-I-”

Would he kill you?  Was it really something that important that you weren’t meant to see?  Fuck, your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears, and it droned out a lot of the background noise of passersby and city ambience.

“Spit it out kid.”

Your stuttering had to be on his nerves.  He looked as if he wanted to kill you, and was doing so with his gaze alone. 

You balled your hands into fists, knowing they were trembling as you took a second to try and collect your thoughts.  Speaking them out much faster than you anticipated.

“I’mreallysorry… Iwaswonderingifyouweresellingothersortsofthings…”

Your words jumbled together, and you hang your head.  Your face lighting up a bright red, knowing just how foolish and childish you looked.

His gaze was locked onto you.  You knew because you could feel it.

It was much easier to talk when your eyes weren’t locked with his own, and you let your eyes wander over your beat up sneakers as you spoke softly.

“I was wondering if you sell things like that to other people.. Like, pills?”

You said it almost as a question to yourself.  Maybe it was just some deal this guy had with FEDRA and you were completely overstepping.  Which, you already had overstepped by just following someone you had never met before. 

A long silence wedged itself between you two, and you decided to break it by continuing.

“I mean like.. Sleeping pills.  Pills that make.. Nerves go away.”

As soon as you added that, you heard a gruff chuckle and immediately looked back up.

The smallest of smirks had grown along his face, and his eyes crinkled as he closed them.  Though this gave you an opportunity to look him over. 

And holy shit, was this man

gorgeous.

Definitely much older than you, just by the looks of him.  His confidence in his own stance is almost palpable. 

Yet you continued to look for the small moment that you had. 

His defined eyebrows that knotted together, having a permanent indent between them, (from scowling you would assume.)  Yet, they were knotted together in his small amusement.  A small dimple that you could slightly see with his crooked grin, holding itself on his right cheek.  His large hand moved up to his lips, covering them from view but letting your eyes wander along his beard that matched his graying hairs. Seeing small bits of patches where the hair seemed to refuse to grow.

But, quickly you were torn away as those threatening umber colored eyes caught you looking at him a little too intensely.  Which very quickly had you looking toward one of the abandoned buildings that still lined this street.  That familiar heat rising to your face as you definitely made yourself seem even more embarrassing in front of this stranger.

“That’s it?”

He spoke, almost matter-of-factly, and you nodded quickly.  Still unable to meet your gaze with his own again.

“Yeah, but it’s gonna cost quite a bit of cards, seein’ as I don’t know you.”

  The man definitely had a bit of an accent, something southern you would assume.

Fuck though, you didn’t even think about the fact that you literally watched that officer pay for the drugs he had bought.  Yet, you didn’t even have your first shift until the next day.  And, that shift didn’t even leave you enough to probably get through the week without begging that man to give you more than just gardening.

Chewing at your cheek, you let out a deflating breath. 

“Shit..”

You muttered, though you didn’t realize it was audible to the older man.

“There’s no way you would think that in the end of the world, you could get away with favors and I-O-Us from strangers did you?”

He was blunt, and even a tad rude.  Surely you were just some ignorant child to him.  You were probably wasting his time from other things he had to do, but you couldn’t back down.  If you went another night without sleep, you felt as though you would implode.

“I just got here and..”

Again you were interrupted,

“I don’t care about any of that.  I need payment for anything that I give you.”

Tears were pulling at your eyes, and you did your best to blink them away as your head tilted back to the ground to stare at your feet. 

‘Do not cry in front of this man, please.’

“Is.. There anything other than cards that I can trade you…?”

He backed up a bit, though you didn’t feel that piercing gaze on the back of your head as you kept looking down.  Thankfully.

“What do you have that you think is worth a trade?”

Fucking nothing.  You came with what little you had from your abandonment, clothes, toiletries, some cans of food.. Your thoughts trailed, but then it hit you how much of a commodity that something you owned was.  AT least it was when you were foraging.  

“Coffee.”

  You spoke plainly, feeling the tears halt in your eyes, though they were most definitely glossed over.  But, you cocked your head up, enough that you could take a peek to see if the cogs were turning in this guy’s head.

Which, they definitely looked as though they were.  You had to have been right or he would have scoffed you away.  The man was gently scratching along his peppered facial hair, clicking his tongue before speaking once more.

“Fuck, if that’s true, then yeah I can make a trade.  Just bring over what you’re willing to give.”

It felt as though karma was finally on your good side, and an audible sigh of relief left your throat. 

The man reached into his pocket, grabbing a small piece of paper and a pen and writing down something on it.

“Meet there later tonight, I have some errands to run.”

Folding it in half, he placed it between his index and middle finger, extending his hand to give it to you.  Yet, no sooner as you had it in your grip and were opening it to read, he’d left without even a farewell.

You looked at the small white note, and on it read;

‘Joel’

With an address scribbled below it.  An apartment building you’d thought you’d seen near your own, but you might have to do a bit of searching. 

But, finally, you’re going to get some fucking sleep.

·̩̩̥＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥·̩̩̥＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥·̩̩̥＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥

The day went by as normal.  A whole lot of nothing as you found yourself shacked up in your apartment, re-reading a book you’ve already read a handful of times.  Hopefully when you were more independent, you could trade some cards for something else.  Hell, you’d rather read a dictionary than this fucking book again.

But, as you were noticing the sun begin to set, you pushed yourself from your raggedy couch and moved to the kitchen.  Opening your cabinet, you pulled out the quite large bag you’d had stored of your coffee beans, deciding to take the entirety with you as you didn’t want to have to walk back to grab more should it not be enough.

You clutched the bag tightly, pulling it to your chest as a bit of that anxiety was swelling its way up your chest.  Slowly filling your throat with a burning sensation, as you realized you were going to this random man’s house, trading for pills.  Someone, somewhere, you didn’t know, you’d never been..

It was going to be a long fucking exchange.

You were right about his apartment building being familiar, as you found it really was right across the street from your own.  A hop away and you’d be at the front of his building.  It looked about the same as yours, just a different color on the outside, and you found yourself frozen outside the front door for a moment, looking up at the sheer height of it.  Dizziness working its way to the forefront as that panic continued to build itself inside of you.

But, you needed these pills.  You had to do it.

‘Bite the bullet.’

You thought to yourself over and over, moving to grip the cool metal of the entry door allowing yourself inside.

Following up a couple flights of stairs, the inside of the building looked completely worn down.  A pink carpet stained with age leads you through the halls.  Random pieces of furniture and debris scattered and lining the walls in each area you walked in.  It definitely wasn’t something you weren’t used to, as people seemed more concerned in making their living quarters a home, and not so much the entryway for others.

You take out the small scribbled note from your pocket, looking over it again as you look at the small scribble he had drawn on it.  A weird little shape with an arrow coming off of it that said, ‘This door.’;

Which was definitely not easy instruction, but as you walked the halls, you saw most of the doors had enough wear and tear that most of them just had chips in the wood as their symbol of entry.  A couple still held their shiny golden numbers, but most seemed to have fallen off or just completely vanished.

So you kept going, walking as far as you could until you’d moved up three floors and finally found the small symbol at the front of a door.  If you looked at it with maybe squinted eyes, it looked a little like a brachiosaurus.  So, that’s how you would decide to remember it should you need to come back.

Holding the beans closer to yourself, you took in a deep breath.  Your free hand hovering itself in front of the wood of the door, trembling as you did.  Your wrist was shaking violently, and you felt hot tears swelling their way up your ducts and holding them behind your eyes.  Taking a moment to blink them away.

Sucking your lower lip into your mouth, you took one last deep inhale before gently tapping the back of your knuckles to Joel’s door. 

Fuck you really hoped you read his note right, because if anyone else were to answer you would be running with your tail between your legs.

Silence followed.  You had taken a step back to allow the man room for him to open the door.  Yet, no answer came.

Was it the wrong room? 

You took out the small piece of paper again, looking at the symbol and back to the door, confident that it had to be it.  Or you were a terrible artistic interpreter.

Fear continued to bubble in your lower abdomen, especially as another stranger began making their way to their room down the hall.  Of course not without taking a look at this new face knocking on his neighbors door.  Cocking a brow at you before he ducked out of the hallway and into his own dwelling.

Knock again..

You had to, you could not fucking go another night without sleep.  It would kill you at this rate.  You took a step forward, once again having your shaky hand move up to the wood, this time knocking a bit harder. 

Fuck, your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you could feel it in your fingertips.  Like your heartbeat was surrounding your entire being in itself, and it’s all you could think about.

So when your next knock came, they were completely desperate.  Slamming against the wood, knowing you would run off this time if he didn’t answer.

Yet, as soon as you found yourself about to turn off on your heel, the door waS swung open with complete aggression and the older man stood there, using the weight of the wood to hold himself up.  His eyebrows were drawn together in annoyance, and he looked over you in confusion.

“Fuck do you want?”

His voice was gruff, lower than you’d heard earlier.  A drawl working its way through him as he wobbled slightly.  Had he been asleep?  There’s no way this man has already forgotten who you are.

“We were going to-”

He cut you off, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration, opening the door wider for you to come in. 

“Just get in, I need to sit the fuck down.”

Definitely not a welcoming atmosphere, but you decided to walk past him the best that you could.  And almost as soon as you walked in, you could smell the booze lingering off of him.  A heavy smell of whiskey, and the smell was followed by a messy table right in front of you, littered with maps, papers, and alcohol bottles.  Two almost completely empty as they sat atop the disarray.

Not your place to judge, but the idea of being around someone drunk always puts you on high alert.  You’d had enough experiences, very bad, when your neighbor would drink.  So, you hold yourself a little taller, evening out your posture.  Doing your best to not look as fragile as you most definitely were.

You clasped your hands together in front of you, leaning back on the balls of your feet awaiting him.

The slam of the door made you jump, but he just groaned out as it seemed to piss him off even more as he walked past you.  Right into the small living room.  Giving little to no regard as his shoulders hit yours, moving past to plop himself down onto the worn plush of the couch.

You gulped hard, looking around at the stained and dated wallpaper that lined the entirety of the apartment, around at small little pieces that made the space seem lived in.  Hospitable.  Definitely more than what you currently had at your abode.

Joel had grunted again, leaning his head back onto the dark green of the couch, his head resting next to a small seemingly hand knitted blanket.  His eyes were not even looking over at you, and you were sure it was because of the alcohol.  He seemed far away.  Of course physically, but his brain didn’t seem to be wired correctly at the moment, with how he allowed himself to close his eyes.

“So…”

You decided to break the silence that washed over the room, placing the coffee beans you’d brought on his cluttered table.  Careful not to make too much noise, treading lightly.  Like you were with a sleeping bear.

“Fuck that’s who you are.  The one spyin’ on me earlier.”

  His eyes were still closed, his hand moving up to shield his eyes from the sunset that was making its way through his windows to his right.

“Y-Yeah..”

You stuttered, still not really having any ground to stand on as you began to rock yourself back and forth.  Still holding your head high as you straightened out your back, not wanting to let on just how scared you were.

Joel let out a small laugh.  One you could see peeking under his arm as you kept your gaze solely on him.

“So, you wanted to trade me after spyin’ on my other deals.  Thinkin’ now I should be all up’n kind to you?  Is that it?”

Was this just how he was?  Your voice caught in your throat.  Still keeping your eyes locked to his spot on the couch.  Taking a breath as you were going to respond, he cut you off.

“A fuckin’ new kid in town stickin’ her nose where it don’t belong, is that right?  Now here I am, tradin’ her some pills for fuckin’ coffee?”

It sounded like he was talking to himself.  But, you couldn’t help but feel your throat become a little tighter, jolting even as he moved to be sitting up.  Elbows resting on his knees, his piercing brown eyes staring right through you.

You shook your head, because really what else was there to do in this scenario.  It was made blatantly clear that you were the idiot in the wrong.

“S-Sorry… I just can’t sleep-”

Again he let out a chuckle, this one a bit louder, more spiteful.

“Kid, you’re so lucky I’m not some of the other folks around here.  They woulda followed you home, and murdered you under blanket’a night.  No one would bat a fuckin’ eye.”

This felt like he was threatening you, and you felt yourself back up even though he didn’t move at all.  You leaned your weight onto the messy table, using your hands to hold yourself up as you knew if you kept them in front of you he would see the shaking.

You gulped, nodding this time.  Keeping it slow as your eyes stay locked.

“Even worse, they wouldn’ta just killed you.  They woulda sold you.  For cards.  To whoever was the highest bidder.  Your life would be nothin’ more than the use some rich fucker has for you.”

Silence hung heavy in the air.  Nothing breaking it as Joel had finally looked away from you. 

Surely in his own head he had to think he was doing something out of the kindness of his heart.  To warn you of who else was out there, but to you.. That meant nothing.  Your eyes began to swell with tears, and silently they began to fall down your cheeks.

“Yeah, I’m just a stupid kid.  Sorry for coming.”

Your voice was laced with venom and pain, and your tears continued to slowly slip down your cheeks and to the floor below you.

At that moment Joel seemed to have seen you.  Finally seeing what he’d done, through his drunken haze.

The man leaned back a little, his arm resting over the back of the couch loosely, one hand moving to rest on his inner thigh.  He looked smug, almost pleased with himself, until your voice broke.

“Just fucking keep-”

You couldn’t even talk, your mind felt as though you were that little girl again.  Memories swelling in your brain as you felt as though you were sinking in quicksand, nausea working its way up through your body.

Your breathing became ragged.  Those silent tears turned into hyperventilation, and you found yourself pushing off the table the best you could.

What a fucking embarrassing sight.

You could see only your past, flashing in colors and moments behind your eyes.  Feelings rising to your skin that made your hyperventilation quickly turn to wheezing. 

All of it was catching up to you, all at once.

You looked up to the man, the one you were supposed to be here to trade with, and you saw he had stopped that smug attitude.  His brows furrowed in what you were more than likely just perceiving as concern, but he probably was more annoyed that you were wasting more of his time.

Almost as soon as you saw him, you were back in the eyes of your childhood once again.  Blinking up to a man you thought you could trust, reaching his hand down to you.

A scream escaped you, filling the small apartment as you began to scream in begs

“Please don’t!  Please, please!  I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!” 

Your heart felt like it was going to explode,and as your screams continued quickly everything around you was swirling in black.The last thing you remember is the sound of your body fully hitting the floor, and the sound of your own ragged breaths.

[whxre-bxby]

ur def my fav recom writer🥲🥲🥲, no one writes the way u write and ur anons leave the best ideas😫😫😫🤭🤭🤭

Thank you! I'll try to keep it up :)

Recom Mansk x Recom f. Y/N

"A Different Kind Of Warmth"

Masterlist

Summary: Mansk and Y/N survive the final battle on the sinking ship and escape. Both are lost in the forest and as night falls, the cold reaches their skin. To warm up, they huddle for warmth but Mansk has a hard time containing his rising feelings.

WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, death, near-death experience, fluff, breeding kink, penetration, soft/sub Mansk

Word Count: 9426

When I woke up as a recom, I had hope for life. The new body, new attitude and new mission had me thinking we had a chance to win this time. Boy, was I wrong.

The S-79 SeaDragon was going down, slowly becoming submerged by water. The water I was struggling in. I was on the lower deck along with the Colonel and a few other soldiers when all hell broke loose. The recom team was being taken down one by one and soon enough everyone was fending for themselves. I had been knocked into the water by falling heavy equipment and was now holding onto the railing on the side of the huge ship. It was tilted and sinking and I knew it wouldn’t keep me above the surface for long.

I didn’t know where to go or what to do. Climbing back up on deck and looking for Sully was suicide. Drowning sounded better to me than getting an axe to the head or an arrow in my side. 

I didn’t plan on swimming for much longer. Everyone was dead and I didn’t know how to get back to Bridgehead. The feeling of being alone started to drown me more than the water and my heart ached as I tried making a list in my head of who could still be alive. I just saw 3 of us die. Meaning that maybe Lyle was alive. I don’t know where Quaritch is and I haven’t seen Mansk. I know Z-Dog is down, along with Prager. Lopez and Ja died a few hours earlier. 

The rail I was holding was now fully submerged in the ocean’s water and I was standing on it until I couldn’t feel it beneath me anymore. My legs and arms were sore from swimming and I felt myself growing weaker. I was turning around, looking for any available platform I could cling to or land but everything was either sinking or too far away. The SeaDragon was slowly tipping over and its side was coming down over me. I was ready to let the deck just drown me and pull me down but suddenly a huge splash erupted next to me. I gasp, turning around to see what it was and then I recognised an Avatar’s head breaking through the surface and gasping for air. It was Mansk and his wide eyes met my own. 

I sigh in relief, letting my eyes flutter closed for a few seconds as I realise I’m not about to be killed by a Na’vi. 

“Y/N?” he asked breathlessly, fighting to keep his head above water. I frantically nod, swimming over to him a bit. 

“Yeah.” I gasp, coughing some water out of my lungs. He nods, seeming relieved by my presence. At least we weren’t alone. 

“Did you see anyone else?” I ask, searching around us again. Mansk weakly shakes his head ‘no’ and I sigh. He turned around, not seeming as lost as me.

I feel glad that he seemed to have a plan. I was going to just swim in the same spot until I drown but now I had a reason to stay alive. 

He leads the way, swimming away from the ship and I follow, feeling too weak to question where we are going. Or where he was going. I didn’t want to stay behind. 

Mansk seemed to have more strength than me. I had been swimming for almost half an hour so I was struggling to keep up. 

He was faster and I was slightly panicking internally, hoping he wouldn’t leave me behind.

Mansk and I were mutual friends I guess. We knew we were on the same side and that we could rely on each other but I never had a proper conversation with him. He was very distant around people. 

He turned around in the water, noticing you weren’t as close behind as he hoped. His movements in the water stopped proceeding forward as he watched you swim to him, noticing your movements and stamina falter. Mansk’s heart was racing and adrenaline was rushing through his veins from the battle. In the back of his mind, he wondered whether anyone else was alive. Either way, he had you now and he couldn’t let anything happen to either of you. Clearly, you had been struggling for longer than him so he needed to help you get to land. 

Mansk’s arm reached out for mine, pulling me to him and my eyes opened at the contact. Since I last saw him so far from me, my heart dropped at the feeling of being touched and I dreaded it to be something from the ocean. Luckily it was Mansk and he scanned over me with a worried expression. 

I tasted blood in my mouth and felt it coming from my nose. 

I hold on to his vest, coughing again after nearly choking on more salty water. My tired eyes were closing and my legs were no longer able to push me as far as before. 

“Almost there.” he said, stretching his left arm under my arms to keep me stable. 

His voice took me by surprise. He had spoken a few times but I still couldn’t remember what he sounded like because it was so rare. Mansk spoke in a deep tone, sounding hoarse from the fight. 

I nod while gasping for air and he realises he’s running out of time with me. His ears strain back against his head and he tightens his grip around me to not lose me. 

Mansk starts swimming again, pulling me with him while my legs and arms try to boost me forwards and up weakly. 

All my muscles hurt and I couldn’t properly swim anymore. 

Mansk clenched his jaw, not tearing his eyes away from the targeted land he had found. He was going to get you both there alive. His arms started slicing through the water as he pulled you behind him by your vest. He wasn’t going to leave you, he was going to make it there so he used all the strength he had in him to do so. 

I felt like I was going to pass out and suddenly, the arm pulling me through the water let go of me. My body stilled and I soon realised I was sinking down. The noise of the loud crashing waves stilled as water filled my ears and everything went quiet. No more splashing or creaking from the sinking boat. Just a faint ringing in my ears and my heartbeat which I felt pounding in my ears and in the back of my head. I faintly open my eyes, staring up at the water's surface, noticing the small bubbles from my nose push upwards in a squiggly line. It seems so close yet so agonisingly difficult to reach. As if it were teasing my bodies strength, in a cruel test of agility and strength. 

The weighty resistance on my chest prevented me from gasping for air and as I slowly sunk, I felt myself be distanced from life more and more. The life I didn’t actually ask for but the one I was ordered to have. A life in an artificial body of the species I was hunting to kill. 

My already weakened limbs seem to be moving in slow motion as I search for something to hold on to and pull me up, but I’m surrounded by endless amounts of heavy and dark water, threatening to force its way into my body and fill me up until I become one with the ocean. The passing seconds of time seem to strain and stretch into eternity as my need for air makes me dizzy. Once again I felt alone and abandoned. My memories were blurred together and I wasn’t even sure whether I had seen Mansk at all. Perhaps I had been drowning this entire time and was only imagining being saved by him while I drifted in and out of consciousness. Maybe everyone really was dead and I was now the last one to go. 

My chest felt as though it was going to burst and the natural instinct to breathe overpowered my reasonability and I desperately attempted to inhale and draw in air when it was clear there was none. The liquid seeped into my lungs making me feel heavier as I sunk and moved with the waves. The uncomfortable feeling made terror shoot through my weak body as I started to realise that my time was running out. Thinking of death when one is safe doesn’t seem threatening but now I was maybe just minutes away from everything I had ever experienced coming to an end. It was fastly approaching and helplessness spurred me on to struggle and swim to the surface. 

My vision blurs like my thoughts and I notice my state of panic vanish. The light around me fades along with the chaos as I float in an eery haze of calmness and stillness.

Suddenly, my heart seems to reboot out of shock. I hear a muffled yet crashing noise above me and light rays shine down on my luminescent blue skin as the surface of the water breaks. Bubbles break out in the targeted area, hiding the object causing the surface to ripple. Then, a hand pushes through the surface and grabs onto my vest, making me realise I wasn’t that deep in the water. My mouth opens from the habit to gasp and the last remaining large bubbles of oxygen leave my lips. The arm pulls my still body up and within seconds I feel much heavier again. Water is no longer engulfing me and my movements are not as restricted. My legs and arms scrape against a hard rock when suddenly I feel steady ground beneath me. 

Mansk had reached the shore and climbed it so that he could pull me on it after him. He had reached the top of the flat rock and turned around to help me up when he noticed I was no longer there. Panic washed over him as his wide eyes hastily searched the water for my body and he spotted it beneath the waves. Without hesitation, Mansk leaned forwards and hurriedly fished for one of my limbs to be able to help me up. Relief calmed him when he gripped onto me and his arms tugged me away from the edge of the water and next to him on the ground.

I hurled myself forward, quickly scanning my surroundings and faintly realising I was on land and with Mansk. Laying on my belly while my back arched uncomfortably, I desperately coughed up all the heavy water I had taken in. My lungs hurt and my body ached while I propped myself up on my elbows and gasped for air between coughs and chokes. Mansk leaned forwards, also breathing heavily and laid his hand on my back while I struggled to breathe again.

My hands were pressed flat against the wet rock as I regained my senses, trying to calm my breathing. I allowed myself to close my eyes from exhaustion for a few seconds before looking at Mansk. 

“Mansk-” I whimper with red eyes and a trembling voice. 

He saw the fear in my eyes and instantly felt responsible and blameworthy for the situation I was just in. What was just a few seconds or a minute to him seemed like ages to my previously submerged self. 

But I was just grateful to be alive with him. I wanted to somehow express my feelings of appreciation for his help even though it was the bare minimum but my mind was still a mess. Maybe give him a hug or tell him a few heartfelt words but I knew that all that would barely scratch the surface of the depth of my feelings. I had too many emotions surging through me. 

“You okay?” he asked, knowing I could obviously be better. He just wanted to make sure I wasn’t too traumatised or maybe I had a wound he didn’t know about. 

It takes me a few seconds to answer because I just recently wanted to cry for help. In contrast, now I nodded my head slowly. 

“Yeah. Are you?” I ask, stumbling forwards on my knees slightly and leaning against him. 

He catches me by my shoulders and props me up straight while I feel around his torso for wounds. 

The desperation of my actions warms his heart when he realises there could be a chance of me truly caring about him.

“Yeah.” he replies, his voice scruffy. I scan over him to make sure and then nod, leaning back on my feet. Neither of us was okay. We were far from it. But we weren’t dying anymore. And as marines and in the military, you are okay as long as you’re alive and not being held at gunpoint. 

The weight of the situation started to sink in as I turned around on the rock and faced the almost fully sunken ship. Mansk watched it too and it made us both feel uneasy. Our friends that we’ve known for years were on there. Their dead bodies were probably sinking in the water while he sat up here and watched. Almost instantly I felt guilty. There must have been a way I could have helped them but I didn’t and now there was nothing I could do. 

I press down on the call in my throat. “Does anyone copy?” I ask, hoping one of our team members will reply. Mansk presses his own and listens in but the line is dead. No one replies and my heart sinks to my stomach. 

Without me noticing my breaths grew heavy and unsteady again and my nose twitched, providing me with the sign that tears were forming in my eyes. 

Mansk sat a little behind me, letting the harsh reality sink in while I refused to accept it and still searched to see if anyone was swimming or moving. But there was nothing. The action was gone and suddenly, the world felt dystopian and scary. 

Both of us were drenched, sitting in the puddles of water that drained and trickled from our clothes and attire. 

We sit in silence for a while. Both of our minds are too full of thoughts and feelings we need time to reorganise them and come back to our senses. 

I come to the conclusion that we can’t stay here but I also realise we have no way of getting back. The communication pieces on our necks and in our ears were damaged and even if our Ikrans found us we wouldn’t know the way back to Bridghead. 

I slowly turn around to Mansk. He looks like he’s going to be sick. Being abandoned and alone on a foreign planet surrounded by dangerous and unknown creatures is not something the military can prepare a soldier for. We also knew that every Na’vi we encountered from now on would not hesitate to kill us for the destruction and devastation we caused. I didn’t even blame them for it. 

The scene of the sinking SeaDragon showed me how disastrous and fatal our actions were. To me, the fallen soldiers and warriors from both sides are a haunting sight. I can spot a few bodies motionlessly floating in the water or stretched along the wreckage. The cost of war on this planet didn’t seem worth it. From that battle of hell, Mansk and I had survived. But we were not victorious. What I was looking at was not victory. We were defeated survivors, left to fend for ourselves in a world that resented us. 

“What do we do now?” I ask, wondering whether he might have a plan to get us out of here. Mansk’s eyes were unfocused, emotionlessly staring at the wreck in the ocean but my voice drew him from his thoughts and back to reality. He stared at me, opening his mouth in an attempt to say something before closing it again. 

He didn’t know. Both of us were helpless. But what was clear was that we couldn’t stay here, drenched in clothes that symbolised our side of the war. 

The eclipse was almost over and the sky grew darker. 

“Come.” he said and I watched him get up before forcing myself off the ground with the remaining strength I had. Yep, he wasn’t much of a talker.

But I could trust him and I knew he was thinking like me. We needed shelter to survive the night and freezing on a wet rock is not the way to do it. So we headed to the forest. This was common sense, especially for Marines. 

Mansk walked slightly ahead of me while I limped after him. Our guns were useless and gone so we were left with only our daggers. I had a knife and Mansk had one of Lyle’s machetes. 

We left the coast behind, warily walking into the deadly forest which still haunted us from experiences in both our lives. 

The light of day had now vanished, and the trees further dimmed our surroundings. But our new bodies enabled us to see clearly in the dark. 

I was moving forward with a hand on my hip in pain while my head was dropped and my eyes weak. It was only then that I started to notice the grass become luminous beneath my feet. 

My ears perked forwards and I looked around, noticing the colour and the light of the forests of Pandora at night. The beauty of it entranced me, making me forget the hate we were told we should have for this world. Despite its dangers, the forest was magical and it lured us deeper in. Oddly, I felt connected to it in some way. Forgetting the harm I had just caused, I felt drawn to the trees. Perhaps my body was trying to persuade my mind to switch sides again. It happened before. This blue Avatar wanted me to naturalise here but my willpower was stronger. 

My eyes shoot up and I scan over Mansk. He seems inattentive to the surrounding lights and colours. Sometimes, I feel like he sees the world in black and white because he never sympathises with things. No matter what beautiful sight of Pandora you would show him, Mansk would not fall into its trap. Not that he was fighting his will, he just genuinely disliked this planet. 

Mansk was walking at my speed so that I wouldn’t fall behind and his arms smoothly swung as he held the machete. He had used it to cut the path free from plants but now the large leaves had vanished. I noticed how tense he looked. His ears were tipped back but his tail was still. He lost his shades because they weren’t on his head as usual. My eyes drifted over him while I completely spaced out from reality. The long-sleeved uniform he wore suited him. It would be unlike Mansk to walk around in a tank top or something similar to Quaritch’s attire. I never understood why but I didn’t question it. At least he wasn’t as oddly self-obsessed as many others. His vest emphasized his broad torso which evidently slimmed down at his waist and the cloth around his arms strained a little through the muscle. Mansk was lean and I found myself admiring him which I had done once or twice before. It embarrassed me to think of him like this because I wanted to be professional but then I would remind myself that our team really wasn’t professional. Sure, around people ranking higher than us yes. The Colonel too, but between us many acted like teenagers. Not just Lyle.

My eyes mindlessly continue to stare at him and he seems to feel them, turning around and glancing at me. Our eyes lock and suddenly I don’t know what to do so I quickly avert my gaze back to the ground before letting it flicker to the many plants. He keeps his eyes on me for a few more seconds, examining me himself before turning back to the front. My heartbeat picked up its pace even though he showed me no emotion and my thoughts were scattered. That’s why I was once again not paying attention and I bumped into him as he stopped. 

Mansk glanced over his shoulder and his ears perked as he watched you recover from thumping into him before looking away again. He smiled to himself. Not a big smile, just the corners of his mouth lifted in slight amusement and his tail flicked. But he wouldn’t let you see, so he quickly hid his emotions with his neutral and unbothered expression.

I rubbed my forehead and my ears drooped in embarrassment. Mansk hadn’t even been nudged forward through my actions, it felt like hitting a brick wall. 

“How ‘bout there?” he asked and instantly my attention devoted itself to him and his voice. My ears twitch forward and I step out from behind him to let my eyes follow where he is looking. It’s a larger tree and it looked dead. Perhaps it had been hit by lightning at some point but what was attractive to us was the fact that it had fallen over halfway onto another tree creating a type of shelter. I looked around, noticing there was a grass patch surrounding it and we could stand beneath the fallen trunk in the case of rain. 

While you’re scanning the place, Mansk’s eyes are fixed on you. His ears finally let loose from being flattened back and move forward slightly as he eyes your facial features, taking note of your luminescent patterns, your nervously twitching ears and nose. His stern gaze softens for the first time in a few hours. You had been walking for a while and he only let his mask of steel falter and slip up when you were battling the water. 

The way your eyes sparkled in the lights of the night had him unable to take his eyes off of you for a few extra seconds. 

I turned to look up at him and he almost flinched away. His ears immediately pinned back and his tail froze. His retreating actions startled me and I waited a few seconds before answering. 

“Let’s check it out.” I say softly, choosing to lead the way for a change. 

Mansk watches me start to walk to the tree. He lets his hands rest on his waist as he drops and shakes his head lightly before following me. 

He should feel endangered and worried but somehow you’re presence distracted him from the horrors you both had just witnessed and you were all he could think about.

I walk beneath the tree, running my hand over the dried-up bark. It was stable and the ground felt soft to my bare feet. 

Mansk reaches me, turning around and scanning over the place. I stand still for a few moments in thought before a shiver runs over me and I notice I’m hugging myself for warmth. 

We were still wearing our drenched clothes and they were keeping our skin moist and cold and had our clothes stick to it. 

Mansk turns around to me and I nod a few times in approval of the place before starting to unstrap my vest. The water made it feel heavier.

He felt cold too and noticed what I was doing so he followed. A strap was stuck because the plastic was busted so I cut a part of it open, discarding the useless material on the ground. My tank top followed, which I had to peel from my skin because it was still soaked. I pulled it over my head and started wrenching and twisting the water out of the cloth and onto the ground. 

Mansk slightly turned away from me and was doing the same with his coat.

My legs were freezing so I started opening my belt. I then moved against the side of the tree and sat down so I could strip the cold pants off. I sighed, rubbing my forehead again out of exhaustion before throwing them onto my pile of clothes. 

I sat cross-legged on the grass in my underwear. Luckily it wasn’t too revealing. The sports bra could count as a top and my underwear was the length of tight shorts. 

Mansk had taken his top clothes off, holding them in his hand and he kept his cammies on. He turned to you and noticed your bare skin but he turned his head away not wanting you to feel uncomfortable. He also wanted to stay focused on somehow getting back to Bridgehead and looking at you would not help him concentrate. 

He sat down next to me but kept his distance. Mansk seemed unsure of the situation. He’d never been in this position before. 

I glanced at him, also quickly tearing my eyes away in case he would notice me staring again. My hands were around my braid which carried water in the hair and I was trying to squeeze it out. 

We sat in comfortable silence and I winced, letting out a squeak of pain when I twisted my queue too harshly. 

Mansk’s eyes flickered to me at the noise and he watched what I was doing. We were still getting used to the body and I’ve never had to drain water from my Kuru cord yet. 

The RDA told us we didn’t have to shower because Na’vi don’t sweat the same way humans do. 

I look at him and this time he doesn’t cower away. Mansk kept his pants on and his cord wet. The perfect way of getting sick. The water from his queue was drizzling down his bare torso. 

I start opening my braid, carefully untangling the hair so that I could squeeze the water out of it without hurting myself. Mansk is still subtly watching me. 

“You should do it too. Otherwise, it’ll hurt you tomorrow.” I say, glancing back at him. Mansk ears perk forward at my words and he stays still for a few moments before looking at the braid resting over his shoulder. Using words to answer was rarely deemed necessary for him. 

He slowly mirrors my movements and unsurely removes the hair tie before opening the braid. Our hair was thick and I knew it felt odd for him because he was used to having his hair buzzed short his entire life. His hands clumsily untangle the Kuru from our hair and I can tell it’s the first time he’s doing something like this. Mansk looks over at me to see how I’m drying mine, his lost and confused eyes trying to find answers. 

I smile to myself, only opening it halfway because the water had seeped to the lower strands of hair and was dry on my scalp. 

Once I was done, I leaned back against the bark, slumping my shoulders while re-braiding my hair around my queue. It took me a while to figure out how to keep it in the centre of the strands but eventually, it worked. When I finished I glanced over at Mansk who had almost opened his entire braid and had his fingers tangled in hair. 

He was helpless. 

“You need help?” I ask, biting my lip to suppress giggles. He glances at me in defeat and looks embarrassed that he can’t get it back together. 

“Yeah.” He softly replies, removing his hands from his hair. I walk over to him on my knees and sit behind him. 

“I don’t know how to braid.” He mumbles, sitting with his knees bent and torso leaned forward. 

I run my fingers through the hair to straighten them out before separating them into three strands. 

“I can teach you if you’d like.” I say, tilting my head to the side to look at him in case he decides to turn around and glance at me but Mansk stays still. 

“Nah, it’s fine.” he replies, his voice quiet but still gravelly. My ears droop as my hope dies down. He should learn how to do it because he’ll be stuck with his queue until he dies. But I’m not going to push him. 

My fingers start braiding away, gently holding his cord in place as I try my best to cover it with hair from all sides. Whenever I brush my fingers against the Kuru, I glance at him to make sure he’s all right and he is. Mansk looks unfazed to me.

You couldn’t see over his back. Mansk had his fists tightly closed and his body was tense. You two had never been so close before. He hadn’t been like this with anyone and he never planned on it but with the situation you two were in, Mansk had to push himself a little. He would never let anyone braid his hair. The idea seemed stupid and pathetic to him but weirdly, he trusted you enough to do it right and not mock him for not knowing how to. But you touching him like that had its downsides. Mansk forced himself to suppress shivers every time your fingers held his queue or grazed his back. He was nervous and the feeling felt almost threatening to him because Mansk never felt that way. 

Another cold shiver ran through my body and I tried curling myself up into a ball while finishing his braid. My tail was wrapped around my waist and my fingers were trembling. 

Mansk must have felt it and he looked over his shoulder. 

“Sorry,” I say, trying to suppress the frigid chills washing over me. “ It’s cold as fuck.” I add with a breathy laugh, trying to lighten the mood. 

I knew he was quiet but I never had to deal with it one on one because we were always with the team. His silence had my thoughts running wild and I had to fight myself to not keep trying to fill it. 

Mansk gives me the faintest nod and faces forwards again and I want to face-palm myself. For a few seconds, I wondered whether that was all the reply I would get from him. 

“Are your clothes dry?” he then asks and my drooped ears twitch forwards and my eyes brighten. 

“No. Still wet.” I say, looking over at my pile before returning my focus to his hair and tying the end with the hair tie. 

“Here, it’s done.” My hands lift his braid and I place it over his shoulder so that he can see. 

Mansk examines it with interested eyes. “Thanks.” He quietly replies and I nod, sitting back down against the tree. This time I was slightly close to him. 

I pull in my legs, hugging my knees and curling my trembling tail around me before resting my chin on my legs. Perhaps we could make a fire but I was too exhausted to go and look for firewood and attempt to start it. I knew Mansk was too. 

Mansk leaned back against the bark now too and the corners of his eyes caught the movement of your shivering frame, directing his attention back to you. Not that it ever left. Mansk wished he could give you his coat if it were dry but it wasn’t. He’d also much rather be wearing more himself. 

I was brought back to the dreadful images of the shipwreck as the silence faded the reality around me. While my arms clutched my legs tightly I slowly rocked back and forth to try and keep me a little warmer. It also helped me calm down. My eyes were unfocused and I was staring in front of me with wide and blank eyes. I was so absentminded that I hadn’t noticed Mansk’s movements. 

I felt something on my back and flinched in shock. Mansk quickly drew back his hand and looked at my confused expression. 

I sighed and dropped my head down, feeling relieved that I was here and not in the water. 

He had moved closer to me and we were seated right next to one another now. I tried calming my breathing again when Mansk repeatedly gently placed his hand on my back. He could tell I was having a hard time digesting what happened today so I guess this was his way of comforting me. I didn’t mind it. In fact, I pushed into the feeling of the palm of his hand. It was warm against my skin and I felt him radiate body heat against me. 

I look up at him and give him a soft smile and he returns it for once before looking down at his legs. 

His hand really did comfort me and I was forcing myself to stay seated upright and not just fall into him. 

My eyes were fluttering closed because I felt tired but I couldn’t get anywhere near sleeping when I was this cold. They shot open when Mansk’s shivered and I felt his hand twitch. There was no doubt about it. We were both cold. 

My head once again lifts and I look at him and his posture, wondering whether I can just lean into him. He lifts his head from having it leaned back against the tree and our eyes meet.

“Is it okay if I lean against you?” I ask with half-lidded eyes. I felt tired and I didn’t mind asking anymore. If he says no I’ll just tip to the other side and try to sleep.

Mansk seemed surprised by my words but I had a feeling he was thinking of the same thing. It was chilly and we could stay warm if we shared our body heat. I couldn’t feel my warmth but he could and vice versa. 

His perked ears of interest now leaned back as he attempted to answer.

“Uh-” Mansk swallowed nervously as I stared up at him.  “Yeah, sure.” He said, internally cursing himself for stuttering. 

I smile and scoot a little closer. Mansk lifts his arm up as I move under it and then I just lean my upper body into his, lying against his side. My body relaxes with the feeling of his warmth and I hum in appreciation. 

He stays still for a few seconds, not daring to even breathe. Then he slowly lowers his arm and unsurely rests it around my shoulder. 

My head is resting against the side of his chest and I discover how comfortable Mansk feels. 

I push my legs a little closer to his frame all while he watches from above and my arm loosely drapes around his middle. 

Yep, that’ll do. If we’re still stuck here tomorrow night then Mansk will become my regular bed. 

He slowly eases himself against me, trying to relax his tense body. The skin-to-skin contact was something he hadn’t felt in ages and it was electrifying to him. Mansk would never give nor receive physical affection. The most he would do with his friends were handshakes and knuckle bumps or a pat on the back. He hadn’t given anyone a hug in years so to receive something like this had his heartbeat racing and Mansk prayed you wouldn’t feel it. 

The tip of his tail was wagging and lightly thumping against the ground so Mansk rested his free hand on it to stop the movements. He didn’t want you to know about what a nervous wreck he had become since you both sat down.

My eyes were growing heavy but then I noticed something new. Mansk’s scent or more like his musk seemed to grow stronger. I wondered whether I was inhaling too deeply but I wasn’t. My eyes close again as I decide to brush it off. My head nudges his side as I move it to my comfort and now my ear is flatly pressed against his skin. Within seconds I can hear thumping and it doesn’t take me long to realise it’s his heartbeat and it’s fast.

I’m wide awake again, wondering about what was happening to him. Maybe he was afraid and was remembering the sinking ship, or he was in a painful position but didn’t want to wake me? Perhaps he felt sick. 

I slowly lift myself up, rubbing an eye before looking up at him. 

Mansk’s ears are drooped to the side and his eyes are wide as he watches your movements, dreading to hear you ask him why he’s so tense. When you look up at him his heart stops beating in fear and he freezes. 

“Are you okay?” I ask but he refuses to meet my eyes or answer. 

My head drops forward and I rub my other eye while thinking about what to do because he was silent.

“If it’s uncomfortable then I can move back and you- can…” I say, opening my eyes before I stop mid-sentence. While rubbing the sleep from them, my head was coincidentally pointed to his abdomen and as I opened my eyes, they were met with the least expected sight. 

I shut up and my lips are slightly parted in surprise as I just stare down at his pants with wide eyes. His cammies are strained in his crotch area and I can see that Mansk has an erection. 

To his horror, he can see that you’ve noticed what he’s been trying to hide and suppress. Everything seemed to be coming crashing down on him and he wished he could sink into the ground in shame. 

You two worked together, he didn’t want you to think of him as some pervert. He also really didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

While Mansk was cursing and hating himself I just kept staring. It took me longer than it should have to figure out that he got so worked up because of how close I was to him. 

“You could have just told me, you know?” I say, grinning up at him and Mansk is torn out of his destructive thoughts by the sound of my voice. 

Once again he is speechless. He was expecting to be insulted or scolded by you. Not that he could picture you doing that, he oddly couldn’t. But a positive reaction wasn’t even on his radar of possible outcomes. 

I fully turn around to face him. He’s staring at me with wide eyes while I drink in his flushed face of embarrassment and bare torso.

“You need some help with that?” I ask, tilting my head in a playful way so that he would get the memo. 

He was starstruck in utter disbelief. 

“What?” he asked, his voice sounding even more hoarse but this time it trembled.  He was too stunned to regret sounding nervous. 

“I need to know. Yes or no? I don’t want to cross your boundaries but I can help you out.” I say, wanting to make it clear that I’m fine with this. 

He can’t answer, his voice seems unreachable to him. 

I decide to rid him of any doubtful questions in his head so I lean forward and trace the tattoo on his chest, making him shiver. 

“Mansk. Do you want me?” I say, keeping my teasing grin. Who would have known that a big and serious man like him could fall apart so easily? 

His mouth is lightly hanging open and he doesn’t even think his answer through because he feels too drawn to you and the moment you two are having. Mansk slightly nods his head even though a voice in the back of his head still has him secretly fearing you would suddenly walk away. 

“Use your words.” I whisper, leaning in a little closer and he couldn’t care less about being told what to do. 

“I want you.” he answers in a raspy voice and I notice how dilated with lust his pupils have become. 

Mansk never takes orders from anyone but his superiors. Meaning he’d follow Quaritch and often Lyle, but rarely would he listen to others. Not because he was rude but because he didn’t like being told what to do by people who weren’t qualified to give orders. 

My sneaky smile turns into a grin again and I shift forwards, moving my legs over his own so that I was straddling his lap. Mansk moved his arms out of the way, still watching me in disbelief. To further enlighten his burdening thoughts, I reach to his neck and gently tug at his dog tag while moving my face close to his. 

I watch him and his eyes keep flickering between mine before they fixate on my lips. Our warm breaths are fanning against the other and our noses brush. I want him to initiate the kiss to make sure I’m not taking advantage of his desperate state. My free hand rests on his chest, stroking over his pec and feeling up his bare skin. 

Mansk can’t take it anymore and he fills the gap between both your lips by leaning forward and catching your mouth with his. 

My heart seems to skip a beat in excitement and I immediately kiss him back, melting against his touch. My hands are all over his torso and soon I notice how he keeps his at his sides. 

He was relishing in the feeling of having you so close to him. A big part of him needed this for a long time. Now the void in him was finally being filled and Mansk was afraid of doing something wrong so he didn’t touch you until you would tell him to.

I pull away, keeping one of my hands on his cheek as I smile in adoration. He was cute like this. His cheeks were burning up while his big eyes watched me attentively. My eyes search for his hands and I pick one up, guiding it to my waist. Mansk supports my movements, gripping and feelings my waist and hips in a way that told me he greatly needed this. 

“This is one way of keeping us warm.” I tease while his hands feel up my barely covered body. 

His eyes shoot up to me and he looks down with a small smile when he notices I’m teasing him. 

I decide to speed things up because my back is cold and I’m looking forward to the warm aftercare just as much as the actual sex. I lean back, sitting down on his groin which makes him shakily exhale. My hands then attach to the moist cloth of my sports bra and I pull it over my head. 

Mansk looks awestruck as his hazy eyes admire my chest.

“Touch me.” I whisper and in the next second, Mansk is cupping and massaging my breast. I sigh in soft pleasure, tilting my body so that my chest is pushed further out for him. 

Mansk wants to feel me closer so he wraps his arms around my waist and gently pulls me into his chest. I wrap my arms around his neck while he buries his face in my one, pressing his nose against the side of my throat and deeply inhaling my scent. 

I start feeling needy so I slowly roll my hips forward, grinding down on him. My actions make Mansk draw in a sharp breath and I feel his grip on me tighten. 

I continue and am able to feel all of him pressing against me. His dick twitches in his pants and I gasp when my clothed clit brushes against the side of him. 

Mansk’s ears are trained on me and longingly listen to every noise I make. 

I no longer want clothes to separate our bodies so I quickly press a kiss to his cheek before climbing off him on his other side. Mansk seems dazed and belatedly follows my movements. 

“Take them off.” I groan, lifting my hips off the ground to remove my panties. He doesn’t need to be told twice and his hands work on unbuckling his belt. Hurriedly he opens his army pants and tugs them down his thighs. 

I’ve ripped my panties off of me and thrown them somewhere behind me and now helped Mansk rid himself of his pants and underwear. 

Once he kicks them off his feet Mansk realises I’m completely naked and his movements slow. He seems to daze off again into his thoughts which amuses me. I press my hand against his deliciously warm chest and push his torso back against the bark of the tree before straddling his waist again. 

“You’re so beautiful…” Mansk mumbles and my eyes shoot up to him in surprise. I haven’t received a compliment in a long time and I could tell he meant it even though I wasn’t sure he knew he said it aloud. 

“Says you, pretty boy.” I giggle and his eyes widen at the pet name. A blush clouds his warm cheeks again and I smile. 

Mansk never thought he looked bad but he never found anything about him that he thought was really good-looking. Sure he was built but so was everyone else. That tattoo was meant to give him some uniqueness but he was often unsure of it. He just felt too regular and therefore any compliments about his appearance had his heart fluttering. 

I glance down between us and my eyes widen once again. I was expecting something normal sized but Mansk was much bigger than expected. Perhaps it was a common Na’vi trait but I doubted that. 

“Holy fuck-” I whisper under my breath, slowly tracing my fingers down his abs and to his v-line before stopping close to his crotch. Mansk hears my reaction and he can tell by the way I bite my lip that I’m happy with him. He feels more confident with what he’s doing now. 

I lift my hand and wrap it around the middle of his shaft to test the waters. Mansk shudders at the contact, inhaling deeply to ready himself for what is to come. 

Everything about him is such a turn-on to me I can’t stop looking at him. My hand starts to gently stroke him and I glance up to see that his eyes have fluttered closed. One of his hands was loosely holding my hip while the other was pressed together in a tight fist against the ground. 

His reactions make me crave more from him so I tighten my fingers around him, tugging at his dick before I stop at his tip and glide my thumb over the slit that’s leaking beads of pre-cum. 

He presses his lips together tightly and his ears flicker back in pleasure. It must feel good even though I’m working on him dry. This makes me realise I can just move to the next stage because I’m craving him badly too. 

I stop my movements, giving Mansk the chance to take a breather and recover. My legs lift me a little higher and I place my palm against the side of his dropped head. 

“Ready?” I ask, looking at him for approval. Mansk lazily nods his head, gently tugging my waist forward to steady us both. 

“Yeah-” he breathes out and I nod back. 

My hand slowly guides the tip of his dick to my burning and sensitive entrance, mixing his pre-cum with the heat that has leaked out of me. It seems the new bodies of ours are far more responsive to erotic feelings than human bodies.

Mansk holds his breath again, watching with lust-drunk eyes. I line him up with my hole and slowly sink down on him. His lips part as he feels himself become engulfed by warmth and slick squeezing him from all sides. A soft groan is elicited from his mouth, encouraging me to continue pushing myself down him. 

I gasp as he starts to fill me and once I bottom out I place both my hands on his chest to steady myself. My breathing is heavy while his is ragged. 

“Fuck-” he mutters under his breath. 

I decide to be a little mean and tease him just a tiny bit more.

“I’m warm now, we can stay like this.” I say, playing it off innocently. 

Mansk would generally never complain about that but at this moment in time, his body craved you so badly he needed you to move and help him find a release. He looked up at me and seemed alarmed that I wouldn’t help him out of his state so he naturally tightened his grip on my hips. 

I smirk at him, leaning my head back in amusement at his panicked reaction. Mansk can’t do anything but watch me with a pleading look. 

“Tell me what you want, baby. Then I can give it to you.” 

My words make him shiver and for once it’s not due to the cold. 

“Please move…” he whines, looking at me with desperate eyes. 

“Good boy.” I coo, rubbing my thumb against his cheek and he seems surprised by my praise but it makes him feel better. 

He wasn’t used to being a bottom but right now he wanted nothing more but for you to take care of him. 

I start to gently rock my hips back and forth making Mansk gulp as he restrains himself from digging his fingers into my skin. His abs tense and his biceps flex as he starts to finally feel pleasure softly rid him of the feeling of being painfully hard. 

I notice how even through his tension, Mansk slowly melts and relaxes against my touch. It encourages me to lean forward and I lightly wrap my hand around his throat. 

His hazy eyes reflecting his pussy-drunk state find mine and we stare at each other while I continue my movements. I notice how Mansk’s eyes have become glossy. He must feel overwhelmed by bliss.

“You’re being so good for me.” I whisper before kissing him passionately. While I do this I pick up the pace a little and Mansk whimpers into my mouth due to the pleasure and the praise. My ears shoot forward and the noise makes me moan against him. The way I gently pressed his neck from the sides seemed to feed his lust. 

Perhaps Mansk was so used to being stronger than me and more in charge that he just needed to once have the roles reversed and have someone take care of him. 

He would often tell me what to do and how to do things so switching the positions had us both excited. 

I start to lift myself off him every time I rocked forward and let myself glide back down when I rolled my hips back. 

This seemed to really do it for Mansk.

“Feels so good-” he whines, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. Without thinking, his grip on me tightens and he starts supporting my movements by pulling and pushing my hips up and down to my rhythm.

Soon enough, Mansk starts to buck his hips up into me to meet my movements and I moan his name which drives him wild.

“Shit- that’s it. Don’t stop.” I say with a hitched breath and gasping voice and he nods, never dreaming of stopping. His eyebrows are furrowed together and his eyes are fixed on where you two are connected, intently watching how all of him disappears in you with each of your harsh thrusts. 

Mansk and I were now almost panting and our once-cold skin was now glistening with tiny beads of sweat. 

“Y/N- “ he breathes through clenched teeth and his words wake me from my pleasured hypnosis. “I’m gonna cum.” 

His voice sounds strained and I nod. “Me too,” I whisper, tightly gripping his shoulders. “Cum inside me.” 

His wide-blown eyes meet mine to make sure I said what he heard. 

“Please.” I add, begging him to fulfil my request. 

He confirmed it in his head his dick twitched inside me.

“Fuck-” he whimpers, “ ‘M gonna fill you up.” 

I nod desperately, digging my nails into the back of his strong shoulders. I was close to cumming as well. 

I knew I couldn’t get pregnant if our queues weren’t bound together so we were fine. And quite frankly, I wanted to feel him deep inside me. 

One of my hands moves between my legs and I start rubbing lazy circles on my clit to help me reach my high. Mansk watches, completely entranced by my movements. 

Never would he have thought that seeing another person pleasure themselves would turn him on so much. And because it was you in front of him, it’s what pushed him over the edge. 

I felt him tense and once I felt the first spurt of cum shoot inside me I was thrown into a state of pure bliss. My walls clenched around Mansk and it made his hips stutter and jolt forward in pleasure. 

He pulled me into him again, burying his head in the crook of my neck while he helped me ride out our orgasms. I cried out his name while he groaned out mine and my hips desperately bucked into his thrusts in frantic attempts to prolong and drag out our highs. 

After a minute we both simultaneously calmed down and our movements stilled. I sunk back down on him, fully seated on his lap while our heaving chests were pressed together. 

My hands wrapped around his neck loosely while I pressed the side of my face against him. He really was warm now. Mansk tightened his arms around my waist and was now hugging me, making me melt against him. 

“Thank you…” he whispered against my skin and I smiled tiredly against his. 

“Don’t. I wanted it just as much as you.” I reply, pulling back from him so that we could look at each other. Mansk gives me a soft smile and I press our foreheads together. My fingers trace around his chest before I start to admire the luminescent speckles on his skin and on his face. 

“You’re so pretty…” I mumble in adoration, stroking his head and running my hand through his short hair. His gaze softens even more and he kisses my cheek, trying to feel me as close to him as possible. 

“Then that makes you a fuckin’ angel…” he replies and his answer makes me laugh. He pulls me into him further, making our warm skin press together everywhere possible. “So soft.” he mumbles, rubbing his cheek against my shoulder. 

I snuggle against him and we stay still for a few minutes, just warming up and calming down in each other's embrace before my yawn reminds us of how late it probably is. 

Mansk doesn’t want to let go yet so he leans off the tree behind him and lays down into the soft grass. I lay on his chest and we don’t move. He doesn’t pull out but I don’t mind. It feels oddly comforting and warm. 

“Can we stay like this?” he asks, not wanting to hold you against your will. 

“Yes please.” I whisper tiredly, stretching my legs before loosely draping them on either of his sides. 

Our breathing is calm now and my head is resting on his chest while his arms are resting on my back, snaked around my waist.

“Can you teach me how to braid?” Mansk suddenly asks, seeming to still be in deep thought while I was slowly drifting off to sleep. 

A big smile spreads along my face as I look up at him and rest my chin on his chest. 

“Sure, we can do that tomorrow. While we wait for the search team to find us.” I whisper and he nods, gently rubbing calming circles onto my back. 

Both of us needed this. The release, the warmth and the comfort. Especially after what happened today. As recom’s, we struggled to find comfort in ourselves so having someone else was exactly what we needed. 

My body seemed to suddenly be filled with a different kind of warmth. One that he gave my heart.

Suddenly, the forest didn’t feel threatening anymore and the noises, the lights, and the fresh air felt homely. 

Whether they would wake up the next day was a mystery they could only wait to find out about. But it didn’t matter to them because they were together. Perhaps they were the last of their kind.

And just like that, the two living impostrous and artificial replicas of the Na’vi fell asleep together beneath the shining stars and gently rattling leaves, of a world that wanted them dead and gone.

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