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amethystarachnid · 2 months ago

Text

FEAR

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony "Tony" Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, angst, fluff, a little spicy

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5k

ᯓ★ TW(s): spicy kisses, reader is insecure

ᯓ★ Request: Hii, tony stark x reader + friends to lovers, please? 😁 with smut if possible 😁😁 ( @ts-rdj-reader)

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ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language, feel free to correct me kindly please

You’re sitting in the lab at Stark Tower, watching Tony work, and that’s when it hits you. It’s not like some dramatic, slow-motion moment where everything clicks into place with fireworks in the background. No, it’s quieter than that. Subtle. Almost sneaky. It’s just Tony, as he always is: focused, slightly manic, throwing out sarcastic comments that make you roll your eyes, but secretly smile.

“Y/N,” Tony calls out, not even looking up from the holographic display in front of him. “Are you going to just stare at me all day, or are you going to actually help me with this? You know, contribute something to society?”

You blink, startled out of your thoughts, and immediately feel your cheeks heat up. God, were you really just staring? What is wrong with you? You’ve never been this… distracted by him before. Not like this.

“Sorry, I was...uh...thinking,” you lie, trying to shake off whatever weird realization is buzzing in your brain.

Tony doesn’t even glance your way. “Thinking? That’s dangerous. Especially in here. I’m trying to build a reactor, not accidentally blow us up because your mind is somewhere else. Come on, get your head in the game, Y/L/N.”

You force a laugh, hoping it sounds casual, but it feels strained. “Right. Reactor. I’m on it.”

As you move to join him, you do your best to shove down the sudden burst of awareness that’s decided to rear its head today. You and Tony? No. That’s ridiculous. He’s your best friend, your boss, and, let’s be real, way out of your league. He’s Tony freaking Stark, billionaire genius, walking chaos, with charm and charisma that have landed him just about any person he’s ever wanted. He doesn’t do serious relationships, and he definitely wouldn’t look at you like that.

Would he?

No. Don’t even go there. You can’t afford to let your mind wander down that path. It’s dangerous. It’s… stupid.

Still, as you work side by side with him, your eyes can’t help but flicker to the way his hands move, quick and precise, always in control, always tinkering. You think about the way he makes you laugh, even on your worst days, or how he checks in on you when he thinks no one’s looking, dropping off coffee at your desk without saying a word. There are the little things too, the inside jokes, the quiet moments after long days of saving the world, when it’s just the two of you, sitting in companionable silence.

It’s all those things that have started to pile up, one after the other, until suddenly you’re drowning in this feeling you can’t quite name...Or rather, one you don’t want to name. Because if you name it, if you admit it, it becomes real. And once it’s real, it’s going to wreck everything.

“Y/N,” Tony’s voice cuts through the thick fog of your thoughts, and this time, he’s looking right at you, his sharp brown eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What’s up with you today? You’ve been weird for the past hour.”

You freeze, panic rising in your chest. He’s too perceptive for his own good. Damn it. “I’m not being weird.”

“Yeah, you are.” He crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head. “You’re quiet. You’re never this quiet. Spill it. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You flinch, knowing if anyone could see through your defenses, it’s him. He always has. That’s part of the problem, isn’t it? He knows you too well. He’ll see right through any lie you come up with, any excuse you make. And once he does… what then? He’ll realize how you feel, and you’ll become just another awkward footnote in the complicated history of Tony Stark’s relationships. Except this time, you’ll lose the best friend you’ve ever had.

You clear your throat, scrambling for something to say. “It’s just… work stuff. I’m fine, Tony.”

He stares at you for a long moment, his gaze heavy, as if he doesn’t believe you. And why would he? He knows you better than anyone. But finally, he relents, letting out a sigh and turning back to the reactor prototype in front of him. “Whatever you say, Y/N. But just so you know, your poker face? It sucks.”

You swallow hard, laughing a little too loudly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Anytime.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm, but there’s an undercurrent of concern there too, one that makes your heart tighten in your chest.

It’s not fair, how easily he can make you feel like this. How just being near him makes your pulse race and your stomach twist. You’ve always known Tony had a way of getting under your skin, but this? This is different. This is worse. Because now, you’ve fallen for him, and there’s no coming back from that.

But you can’t let him know. You won’t.

For the rest of the day, you force yourself to be as normal as possible. You joke with him, laugh at his ridiculous quips, and do your best to avoid those moments when his gaze lingers on you for just a second too long. It’s torture, but you manage to keep your cool...Barely. By the time you leave the lab, you’re exhausted, both mentally and emotionally.

As you step into the elevator, your mind is still spinning, replaying every little interaction with Tony, overanalyzing every look, every word. Did he notice? Does he know? God, if he figures it out…

Just as the doors begin to close, Tony’s voice calls out from the hallway. “Y/N, hold up.”

Your heart jumps into your throat as he slips into the elevator with you, his expression unreadable. He doesn’t say anything at first, just presses the button for your floor and leans back against the wall, arms crossed, watching you out of the corner of his eye.

The silence between you feels thick, heavy with unspoken things. You want to say something, anything, to break it, but your mind is blank. For once, you can’t find the words, and it terrifies you.

Finally, Tony speaks, his voice quieter than usual, a hint of something serious lurking beneath the sarcasm. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

He shifts his weight, turning to face you fully. “Whatever’s going on with you...It’s not just work. I know when you’re stressed about work, and this… this isn’t that. So, what’s really going on?”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache. He’s giving you an opening, a chance to tell him the truth. But you can’t. You can’t risk it. Not when there’s so much at stake.

“I’m fine, Tony,” you say, your voice a little too firm. “I promise.”

He watches you for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes, and for a second, you think he’s going to push further. But then he just sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Alright. Fine. Be mysterious. But if you ever decide to stop being a stubborn ass, you know where to find me.”

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open to your floor. You step out, feeling like you’ve just dodged a bullet, but as the doors close behind you, you realize something else: this isn’t over. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s only going to get worse.

Because no matter how hard you try to hide it, you’re already falling for Tony Stark. And it’s only a matter of time before everything falls apart.

Tony Stark isn’t exactly known for being emotionally in tune. Sure, he’s brilliant — genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist and all that — but when it comes to feelings, he’s about as clueless as they come. That’s probably why it takes him a while to notice that something’s been off between you two lately. Not off in a bad way, just… different.

For weeks now, he’s felt a strange tension hanging in the air whenever you’re around. You’ll be sitting side by side in the lab, working together like always, and suddenly, there’ll be this silence that feels loaded with something neither of you are acknowledging. He’ll make some sarcastic comment, and instead of your usual sharp comeback, you’ll just give him this soft, lingering look that makes his chest tighten.

At first, he brushes it off. Maybe you’re just distracted. Maybe it’s stress. Hell, maybe you’re sick of his company. But then, one night, it hits him.

It’s after midnight, and the two of you are still in the lab, burning the midnight oil as usual. You’re both tired, but you don’t want to leave until the project you’re working on is at least somewhat functional. Tony’s sitting on one of the stools, scribbling down notes on a piece of paper, while you’re across the room tinkering with one of the prototypes. He glances up to ask you something, but the words freeze in his throat.

You’re standing there, bathed in the soft glow of the workshop lights, your hair slightly tousled from hours of working, your brow furrowed in concentration as you carefully adjust the wires on the circuit board in front of you. There’s a faint smudge of grease on your cheek, and the sleeves of your shirt are rolled up to your elbows. It’s nothing new, he’s seen you like this a thousand times before, but something about the moment feels different.

His breath catches in his throat, and for the first time, he really sees you. Not just his best friend, not just his partner in crime, but you, funny, brilliant, stubborn, always ready to challenge him, always pushing him to be better. His mind races back over the past few months, and suddenly, everything clicks into place.

The long nights spent together, the easy banter, the way his heart seems to race when you’re close to him, how he finds excuses to hang out with you even when he doesn’t need to… and the way he misses you when you’re not around.

Oh, no.

He’s in love with you.

Tony almost laughs at the absurdity of it all. The great Tony Stark, falling for his best friend? The same man who’s spent years avoiding anything remotely close to a serious relationship, and here he is, head over heels for the one person he can’t afford to screw things up with.

He doesn’t say anything, just watches you for a moment longer, his heart pounding in his chest. You look up, catching him staring, and for a brief second, something flickers in your eyes, something soft, almost vulnerable. But then you look away, brushing your hair behind your ear, and the moment passes.

“Hey, genius,” you call out, breaking the silence. “You gonna help me with this or just sit there staring at me like a weirdo?”

Tony snaps out of it, shaking his head as he tries to clear his thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he says, hopping off the stool and walking over to you, determined to bury this newfound revelation under layers of sarcasm and work.

He can’t deal with this right now. He’s Tony Stark, for god’s sake. He doesn’t do feelings.

But deep down, he knows there’s no escaping it.

For the next few weeks, everything changes. Well, sort of. You and Tony still hang out all the time, you still work together, you still exchange your usual discussions, but there’s this tension between you now, this unspoken something that neither of you are acknowledging.

You feel it every time his arm brushes against yours when you’re working side by side, or when he makes some smartass remark and you laugh a little too hard, only to catch him looking at you with that same intensity that sends a flutter through your chest.

But you’re scared. Terrified, actually. You know how Tony is with relationships, he doesn’t do them, and even if he did, you’re not sure you could ever be what he needs. He’s Tony Stark, larger than life, always moving a mile a minute. And you? You’re just… you. How could you ever compare to the women who’ve come in and out of his life, the ones who are glamorous, confident, and, let’s face it, completely different from you.

So, you try to push your feelings down, bury them deep where they can’t mess things up. You can’t lose Tony. Not like this. You’d rather be his friend forever than risk ruining what you have by admitting you’ve fallen for him.

What you don’t know is that Tony’s going through the exact same thing.

He can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how hard he tries. He spends hours lying awake at night, replaying every interaction between you, wondering if you feel the same way, and cursing himself for not having the guts to find out. But he’s scared too. For all his bravado and confidence, when it comes to you, Tony’s terrified. He’s never had someone in his life like you before, someone who really knows him, sees him for who he is, flaws and all.

The thought of losing you? Of screwing things up and ruining the best thing in his life? That’s enough to make him keep his mouth shut, no matter how much it kills him.

One evening, after a particularly long day, the two of you end up in Tony’s penthouse, sprawled out on the couch, a bottle of whiskey sitting between you. It’s a familiar scene: just you and Tony, unwinding after a long day, laughing and talking about everything and nothing. But tonight, something feels different. There’s a charge in the air, something unsaid that’s been hanging between you for weeks.

You take a sip of your drink, your eyes wandering over to Tony. He’s sitting next to you, his arm draped over the back of the couch, his head tilted back as he stares up at the ceiling. There’s a quietness about him tonight, a kind of vulnerability that you don’t see often.

“You ever wonder what it would be like if things were… different?” he asks suddenly, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your tone casual, not wanting to give anything away. “Different how?”

Tony shrugs, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “You know, if we weren’t… us. If we were different people, with different lives. Maybe things wouldn’t be so complicated.”

You swallow hard, your pulse quickening. “What’s complicated about it?”

He glances over at you, and for a moment, you see something in his eyes that makes your breath catch. Something raw, something real. But just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone, replaced by the familiar smirk you know so well.

“Nothing,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “Just thinking out loud. Ignore me. I’ve had too much to drink.”

You bite your lip, your chest tightening as you try to push down the disappointment that’s rising in your throat. He was so close to saying something—so close to opening up, to finally talking about what’s been hanging between you. But, as always, he retreats behind his armor of sarcasm and bravado, and the moment slips away.

You lean back against the couch, forcing yourself to relax. You can’t let yourself get caught up in this. Tony’s never going to say anything, and neither are you. It’s just the way things are.

But that doesn’t stop your heart from aching.

The tension between you two builds over the next few weeks, until it’s practically unbearable. Every touch, every glance feels charged with unspoken words, and you’re both teetering on the edge of something you’re too scared to face.

It all comes to a head one night after a particularly rough mission. You’re exhausted, bruised, and still a little shaken from the close call you had out in the field. Tony’s even more on edge than usual, his temper flaring as he snaps at everyone around him, barking orders and refusing to listen to reason.

You follow him back to the Tower, watching as he storms into the lab, his face a mask of frustration and anger. You know him well enough to see what’s really going on—he’s scared. Tony hides his fear behind anger, always has, but you’re not about to let him shut you out.

“Tony,” you say softly, stepping into the lab after him. “Talk to me.”

He doesn’t look at you, just starts pulling pieces of equipment off the shelves, muttering under his breath. “Not now, Y/N.”

“Tony, stop,” you say, your voice firm as you walk up to him, placing a hand on his arm. “Whatever’s going on, you can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep shutting me out.”

He freezes at your touch, his jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and something else—something deeper. For a

moment, you think he’s going to brush you off again, but then, suddenly, he turns to face you, his eyes blazing.

“You want to know what’s going on?” he snaps, his voice harsh. “Fine. I’ll tell you. I’m scared, okay? I’m scared that one of these days, I’m going to lose you. I’m scared that I’m going to screw things up, like I always do, and you’ll be the one who pays for it. And I can’t...” His voice breaks, and he runs a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping. “I can’t lose you, Y/N. I just… I can’t.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, your heart pounding. He’s never been this open with you before, never let you see this side of him. And suddenly, all the walls you’ve built around your heart come crashing down.

“I’m not going anywhere, Tony,” you say softly, stepping closer to him. “I’m right here. I’ve always been here.”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and for the first time, there’s no smirk, no sarcastic remark to deflect what he’s feeling. There’s just Tony, raw and vulnerable, standing in front of you, his heart laid bare.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, before the doubt creeps back in, you surge forward, closing the gap between you in an instant. This time, the kiss isn’t soft or tentative like the first, it’s hungry, desperate, and filled with all the emotions you've been trying to hide.

Tony doesn’t hesitate. The second your lips crash into his, his hands are on you, gripping your waist firmly as he pulls you flush against him. His kiss is rougher, more demanding, his lips parting yours with a quiet groan that sends heat pooling in your stomach. You gasp into his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair as he deepens the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that leaves you breathless.

Your back hits the lab table behind you, the cool metal contrasting sharply with the heat of Tony’s body pressed against yours. One of his hands slips down to your thigh, lifting it to hook around his hip, anchoring you closer as his lips move against yours with an intensity that has your head spinning.

His grip tightens on you, the kiss turning frantic as if both of you are trying to make up for all the moments you’ve avoided this, for all the tension that’s been building for months, maybe years. The way he’s kissing you, like he’s been waiting for this just as long as you have, makes your heart race even faster.

But then the weight of it hits you, everything this could mean, everything this could ruin.

You pull back sharply, breaking the kiss as your breath comes out in shaky gasps. Tony stares at you, wide-eyed, his expression a mix of surprise and something else—something you’re not ready to face.

“I—” you stammer, taking a step back, your mind racing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

Tony takes a step toward you, his hand reaching for you, but you’re already moving, already pulling away from him and the mess of emotions swirling between you.

Without thinking, you turn and run.

“Y/N, wait!” Tony calls after you, his voice panicked, but you don’t stop. You can’t stop. Your heart is pounding, your mind racing with a thousand different thoughts, all of them crashing into each other like waves in a storm.

What did you just do?

You practically sprint out of the lab, heading for the nearest exit as your heart thunders in your chest. You don’t know where you’re going. You just need space. You need to think. You need to breathe.

You run out of the building, the cool night air hitting your skin like a shock to the system. It’s a relief, in a way, the cold helping to snap you back to reality. But your mind is still racing, replaying that kiss over and over again. The way his lips felt on yours. The way his hands held you, like he was afraid to let go.

This was a mistake.

You tell yourself that over and over again as you walk aimlessly down the dark streets, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You and Tony, best friends for years, always dancing around something deeper but never daring to cross that line. And now? You’ve crossed it. And there’s no going back.

You shake your head, wiping at the tears that you hadn’t realized had started to fall. How could you have been so stupid? You’ve seen the way Tony treats relationships: brief, fleeting, never letting anyone too close. You were different. You were safe. And now, you’ve gone and ruined it.

The worst part? You know you love him. You’ve known it for a while, even if you’ve been too scared to admit it to yourself. And now that you’ve kissed him, now that you’ve felt what it’s like to have him hold you, you know there’s no turning back. But the fear, the doubt, it claws at you, telling you that you’ll never be what he needs. You’ll never be enough.

He’ll leave, just like he always does. And you can’t bear to lose him like that.

Tony stands frozen in the lab, staring at the spot where you just were, his heart still racing from the kiss. He can’t believe it, one minute, you were kissing him, and the next? You were gone.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His mind is spinning, replaying the way you’d pulled away, the panic in your eyes before you bolted.

He doesn’t know what to do. He’s never been good at this, at feelings, at relationships, at anything that requires him to actually open up. But you? You’re different. You’ve always been different. And now that he knows that you feel the same way, he’s terrified that he’s just blown it.

He should’ve stopped you. He should’ve said something, anything, to let you know that he’s feeling just as scared, just as confused, but instead, he let you run.

Tony paces the room, his mind racing. He’s not used to feeling helpless. In most situations, he’s the guy with all the answers, the one who can fix anything with the right tech, the right plan. But this? This is uncharted territory. He doesn’t know how to fix this. He doesn’t even know where to start.

She’s gone because she thinks it was a mistake.

The thought sends a jolt of panic through him, and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. He can’t let you walk away thinking this was a mistake. He can’t let you walk away at all.

Because for the first time in his life, Tony Stark realizes he’s scared of losing someone. Not just anyone: you.

The next few days are a blur of avoidance, both on your part and Tony’s. You throw yourself into work, keeping busy with any project you can find. Anything to keep your mind off that kiss, off the way Tony looked at you like he might actually feel the same way.

Tony’s doing the same thing. You see him around, of course, you still live at the Stark Tower after all, and avoiding him completely is next to impossible. But there’s a distance between you now, a tension that wasn’t there before. It’s awkward, but neither of you say anything. Neither of you dare to acknowledge the giant, kiss-shaped elephant in the room.

Instead, you both retreat into your old habits. Tony leans on his sarcasm, cracking jokes that fall flat, while you throw yourself into your work, avoiding his gaze whenever you’re in the same room together. It’s like you’re both walking on eggshells, terrified of what might happen if one of you breaks the silence.

You hate it. You hate the awkwardness, the tension, the way things have changed between you. You miss the ease you used to have with Tony, the way you could just be you around him without worrying about anything else. But now? Everything’s different, and you don’t know how to get back to what you had.

Worse, you don’t even know if you want to.

Because the truth is, you don’t think you can go back. Not after that kiss. Not after feeling what it was like to have him hold you, to kiss you like he actually meant it. And that scares the hell out of you.

You’ve been in love with Tony for longer than you care to admit, but you’ve always pushed it down, telling yourself it was better to stay friends, better to keep things simple. But now, after that kiss, you can’t ignore it anymore. You can’t pretend that you don’t want more.

The problem is, you’re pretty sure Tony doesn’t want the same thing. He’s Tony Stark, he doesn’t do relationships, not serious ones, anyway. And even if he did… why would he want you?

That thought lingers in your mind, eating away at you. You’re not enough for him. You’ll never be enough. And that’s why, even though the kiss was everything you’ve ever wanted, you know it was a mistake.

It has to be.

It’s another late night in the lab, just like any other night. Or at least, that’s what you’re trying to tell yourself. But you can feel Tony’s eyes on you as you work, and it’s driving you insane.

You haven’t talked about what happened. You haven’t even mentioned it. And it’s starting to suffocate you.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You slam your tools down on the table, turning to face Tony, who’s sitting across the room, fiddling with a circuit board.

“We need to talk,” you say, your voice sharper than you intended.

Tony looks up, his eyes wide with surprise. “Talk about what?”

You give him a look, crossing your arms over your chest. “You know what.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Tony sighs, running a hand through his hair as he stands up and walks over to you.

“Look,” he says, his voice softer now, more serious. “I get it. You think the kiss was a mistake.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Tony holds up a hand, cutting you off. “But here’s the thing, Y/N. It wasn’t. At least, not for me.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you force yourself to stay calm, to not get your hopes up. “Tony, don’t—”

“No, listen,” he interrupts, stepping closer. “I’ve been thinking about this, about us, and I know I’ve screwed up a lot in my life. Hell, I’ve probably screwed this up too. But I don’t want to keep pretending that kiss didn’t mean anything.”

You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the moment you’ve been dreading, the moment you’ve been avoiding. And yet, you can’t help but feel a flicker of hope.

Tony takes another step closer, his eyes searching yours. “I don’t know what this is, Y/N. I don’t have all the answers. But I do know one thing: I don’t want to lose you. Not as a friend, not as anything. So if you’re willing to take a chance on me… on us… then I’m all in.”

For a moment, you just stand there, staring at him, your mind racing. This is it. The moment you’ve been waiting for, the moment you’ve been terrified of. And yet, as you look into Tony’s eyes, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this is worth the risk.

“I’m scared,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Me too,” Tony says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

And in that moment, you know you can’t run anymore. You take a deep breath, stepping forward, closing the distance between you.

“I’m in,” you whisper.

Tony grins, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you into a kiss. And this time, you don’t run. You don’t push him away.

Because this time, you know it’s real.

“God, Y/N,” he breathes against your lips between kisses, his voice rough with need. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

The confession stokes the fire burning between you, and you kiss him harder, your fingers trailing down his chest, feeling the hard lines of muscle beneath his shirt. He groans into your mouth, his hand sliding up your back, pulling you even closer as his teeth graze your bottom lip, sending a shiver of pleasure straight through you.

It’s overwhelming, intoxicating, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of losing control. Every kiss, every touch from Tony makes your whole body ache for more, and suddenly, you’re not sure you can stop this. You’re not sure you want to stop this.

But just as quickly as it began, a flicker of fear pulls you back. You break the kiss, gasping for air as you pull away slightly, your forehead resting against his, both of you breathless. Tony’s hands stay on you, his grip firm but not demanding, as if he’s giving you the space to decide where this goes next.

And in that brief moment, reality crashes back in, the weight of everything you’re risking between you. Your heart is racing, your lips swollen from the kiss, and every nerve in your body is screaming at you to give in, to let this happen. But the fear, of losing him, of ruining what you have, still lingers at the edges of your mind.

“I can’t lose you,” you whisper, your voice shaky, torn between desire and doubt. “Tony, I...”

His hand cups your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your lips, still damp from the kiss. “You won’t,” he says softly, his voice steady despite the heat still burning in his eyes. “I promise you, Y/N. You won’t lose me.”

The sincerity in his voice, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters, is enough to make you believe him. For the first time, you let yourself believe that maybe this, you and him, could work.

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch, and with one last look into his eyes, you crash your lips back into his, giving yourself over completely this time. And this kiss? This one isn’t frantic. It’s deep, slow, and filled with the promise of everything that’s been building between you for so long.

Tony moans into your mouth, his hands roaming your body with newfound confidence, and you can feel the heat between you growing, spiraling out of control. His lips trail down your jaw, then lower, tracing a hot path along your neck that has you gasping his name.

This time, you don’t pull away. You don’t run.

You stay, letting yourself fall.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ♡ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

I don't know if I like this or not but well...here we are. If you liked it like, reblog and leave a comment if you want! <3

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wyngigi · 2 months ago

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ꕀ LUST FOR LIFE ꕀ 03

↳ sex money feelings die remastered .ᐟ cross posted on ao3

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“ they say only the good die young, that just ain't right 'cause we're having too much fun, too much fun tonight ”

↳ synopsis: a group of individuals find that their first taste of freedom in the world brings more obstacles than expected. some of them, find solace by drowning in liquor or in the backseat of somebody else’s car. a lot of them have got to get their shit together. a lot of them won't.

mdni » story contains nsfw content intended for 18+ audiences pairings » member specific, not listed for spoiler purposes ↳󠁪󠁪 ateez x female reader, ateez x ateez ↳ genre » coming of age ↳ word count » 3.3k ↳ general warnings » substance abuse & consumption, sexual content, morally grey characters, unreliable narrators, internalised homophobia, angst, basically every struggle young adolescence can go through ↳ chapter warnings » description of sexual activity while under the influence of alcohol and drugs, mention of sexual activity being filmed (with dubious consent due to intoxication) ↳ a/n┆timeline clarification chapter one is the aftermath of the party that mg, wy, ys & san talk about going to in chapter two, and this chapter (three) is the actual party this story will contain many events that are written out of chronological order im sorry its who i am

03⌇the absolute fucking irony

College parties. Young adults burdened by the struggles of growing up with too much access to liquor and a whole lot of free will. Glass bottles litter the kitchen island, empty cans crushing under people’s shoes no matter where they step.

A certain variety of liquids have been splashed and spilt onto the floors, forming several small puddles. Every room is dimly lit, courtesy of the crappy party lights sending rays of colours out, splaying onto the crowds of people below. Columbia parties, where the music never stops blasting and the room can’t stop spinning.

Tonight is no different. You’re somewhere in there, lodged deep in the collection of sweaty intoxicated people just as fucked up with a cup in hand. Everyone rocks back and forth against each other, bass boosted music drowning out any audible voices. Some others are spread out, chatting, screaming, leaning on any available surface with their almost blacked out friends by their side.

Liquor is sloshing around in the guy’s cup in front of you, splashing onto your arm. Rolling your eyes, you turn away from him wiping your arm before downing the rest of your own cup. The songs playing blast into your ears almost deafeningly as you close your eyes, intoxication making your head spin.

You’ve been here for just over an hour, drinking, dancing, drinking some more. You’re five drinks deep now before opening your eyes to spot your friend. She’s tipsy too, talking to an equally wasted new friend of hers. That’s a lie, no talking is happening there. Definitely more than friends too. You call out her name, locking eyes with her through the crowd, shooting her a thumbs up.

Julie grins, playfully waving you off as she snakes her arms around the boy’s neck opposite to her. You can’t see his face, but you do have faith in her, she’s the picky type.

When the music changes to a slow song, you take a chance to get a breather, and a refill. Tumbling as you make your way to the kitchen you spot a familiar head of tousled brown hair. He’s on his phone, typing with one hand as he runs the other through his hair. He hasn’t spotted you yet, so you head over to the opposite side of the island shuffling through the glass bottles, making just enough noise for him to look up.

Like clockwork, he does and ushers you over with a brief tilt of his head. His teeth are on display as a sly grin plays on his lips. You give him one back, picking up an unopened bottle of Pink Whitney before you make your way over to him.

Setting your empty cup and the bottle down, you lean the side of your body into the counter to stabilise yourself. The marble is cold, pressing into your stomach yet you pay no mind to it. “Having fun?” He teases eyeing how you sway slowly, more than a little out of it. Your eyes are glazed over, and he gives you a once over before mirroring you, hip digging into the counter as he crosses his arms.

Kim Hongjoong, former pretentious rich kid turned even more pretentious angsty tortured artist. Most importantly your favorite dealer, and if it matters to anyone, an excellent fuck.

Several piercings decorate both of his ears, and a small but mighty metal ring is lodged in his lip; it shines despite the low lighting. His eyelashes are long, fanning over his bloodshot eyes. His hair is chopped roughly in the front, purposely grown out in the back. It suits him, his whole brand is that type of messy yet put together all the same. The effortless rockstar vibe if you will.

The speakers are still blaring off in the distance, but the kitchen is somewhat far enough that you only have to raise your voice a little to hear each other. “Definitely a whole lot more now,” you chide. He hums in agreement, hand finding its way to your waist as he leans behind you to grab a bottle off the shelf. The metal rings on his fingers are cold, but you lean into his touch regardless.

The proximity between you two closes in, a combination of woody and musky tones hits you, flooding your senses. It’s a mix of marijuana and, his cologne. It’s welcoming, familiar.

“You don’t look drunk enough to be here,” you poke a finger into his chest, leaning up to look at him. He shakes his head, mullet brushing against the collar of his jacket. Hongjoong’s hand leaves your waist as he moves to face the counter, twisting open the bottle as the seal pops quietly. “Night’s young, pretty,” Hongjoong jests, filling up his cup, “Don’t stress, I’ll catch up soon.” You nod, silently agreeing as you move to take his cup from his hands. He allows it, eyes never leaving yours as you take a sip from the drink. It burns a little at the start then it goes down easy. Fitting.

The liquid leaves a shine on your lips that catches the light. Hongjoong’s eyes flicker down, cursing under his breath quietly at the sight as you look up at him. Your lips always looked so enticing to him, and he can’t help but appreciate the view now. It’s also welcoming, and even more familiar.

Hongjoong maintains eye contact with you, holding up the bottle you brought over in his hands between the both of you. It’s a silent question. You scrunch your nose, accepting his offer while nudging your cup towards his direction on the counter.

You step away from each other as he refills your cup, not too far but just enough so you can continue drinking comfortably. The glass bottle clinks against the countertop when he sets it down, pushing it off to the side. You rest your forearm down to cradle your drink, feeling a warm hand creep its way on top of your empty one. His hand isn’t much bigger than yours, and you smile at the chipped polish on his pinkie. Next time the two of you meet, you’ll be sure to give it a fresh coat.

You turn your head to look back at him and find him doing the same. The music seems to fade as the two of you lock eyes before a small grin cracks out on his face, the hues of red and blue lights blend, purple cascading over his features instead. You huff out a small chuckle, breaking away from his gaze. You’re chewing on your bottom lip, eyes searching the crowd for Julie just as a new face approaches Hongjoong.

The boy glances at you momentarily, lifting his drink up to you before greeting the other opposite you. “Yo man, you got a new buyer out front.” Hongjoong nods, lips pressing into a thin line as he leans off the counter. His friend notes the hand that still hasn’t left yours, eyes gesturing between the two of you. Hongjoong winks in confirmation. When he looks back to you, he’s grabbing your wrist to pull you closer to him. Leaning in, he whispers, “Text me, yeah?”

His breath is hot, fanning on your face while his lips just barely drag over your cheek as he pulls back. It heats your whole body up even once he’s already left.

Yeosang escapes quickly from the blonde who had approached him, now entering the backyard of the house. Mingi and his new roommate haven’t arrived yet, and just as anticipated, Wooyoung’s got his tongue shoved down some girl’s throat against a wall already.

He’s nursing a cup of clear liquid that he thinks could be some form of cheap tequila, but he drinks almost anything (unlike Mingi, rich prick) so the thought is pushed aside. Unfortunately, it’s not just the drink leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Something about tonight isn’t clicking for him, the music isn’t quite right, and no one has piqued his interest to look at more than once. This weekend is being spent similar to the many before, and he would usually hope for it to end the same as well. Let Wooyoung loose to drink to his heart’s content, make sure he’s gotten more than comfortable with someone, then find his own someone for the night. Girls and guys alike have shot him subtle smiles and flirty waves, yet none are what he’s after.

By chance, it could have something to do with seeing his roommate with an arm slung around some girl. For the sake of his sanity and to not be a total buzzkill tonight, he’s pretending that’s not the case. Making another thought get pushed to the back of his mind.

Columbia parties also aren’t his usual go-to. The parties are fun don’t get him wrong, but only later in the night. It’s when the crowds really build, and he lets loose till he can’t feel his face. He’s arrived far too early, thanks to a certain someone. He curses Wooyoung for being too eager during their pregames, Yeosang hopes and prays for his friend’s hangover tomorrow to be an absolute bitch.

He spots a group of familiar people playing spin the bottle, but he doesn’t think he’s drunk enough for that yet. Yeosang feels a buzz in his pocket, taking another gulp before reaching for his phone.

mingi: san n i 2 mins away

pls tell me u n wy aren’t wasted already

yeosang: can’t say he isn’t

im ok tho

mingi: knew it , c u soon Yeosang continues scrolling through his notifications before a much taller figure appears next to him. He knows exactly who it is by height alone. Yeah, one hundred percent not nearly drunk enough to deal with this right now. Being drunk would also not help though. Yeosang wishes the boy was standing a little further away because he looks like a puppy right now. A really cute, really kissable drunk puppy.

His cheeks are tinged red and the tips of his ears match. Yunho grins, leaning close into the other’s face, pupils darting between his. Yeosang’s breath hitches, “Yunho, you good?” he asks, stepping backwards as quick as he can.

He nods slowly, “Mhm, doing great. What’s got you looking so down though?” Yunho singsongs, absentmindedly shuffling from foot to foot. Yeosang hums in response, “Just not feeling too great tonight.” Yunho tips his head back to finish off his drink, Adam’s apple bobbing. Hell, why does this guy have to be straight? Yeosang’s lost in thought before he hears Yunho retort, “Like what, no one to get your dick wet for you arrived yet?”

“Well, in another universe maybe!” Yeosang thinks to himself, instead he replies by shaking his head, hair covering his eyes slightly. This is not the type of conversation he wants to have with his roommate. He turns away from the boy to scan the crowds of people in front him, only to regret it when he spots the girl who was with Yunho earlier continuing to eye fuck him.

Before he has to make more small talk with him, he spots Mingi and who he assumes is San trailing behind him shuffling through the small groups in the backyard. Mingi’s eyes are wandering through the people, filtering for a familiar face.

Yeosang raises his hand up, giving a short whistle as he calls them over. Mingi was right, his new roommate is far from ugly. If his friend didn’t already have an obvious crush on the boy, Yeosang would not have been objected to having a taste of him, mostly to wash out the sour aftertaste someone’s mere presence has somehow brought him tonight.

“Yeo! ‘Sup, Yunho. This is the new roomie here,” Mingi pulls Yeosang into a side hug, patting him on the back. Yeosang raises his brows, shooting the boy a knowing look before whisper-yelling, “He is cute.” Mingi shushes him immediately as Yeosang turns back to the others. San stood further away finally steps forward towards the group. He waves to both of them, “San,” he tells them with a tightly lipped smile before looking around over each shoulder. The shy type, antsy. Cute.

Yeosang speaks up, “Hey San, did you um-” He holds up his own cup, “maybe want a drink or? Mingi’s been here before so he can take you to the kitchen, if you want.” The boy mentioned nods, “Yeah, c’mon,” going to move back towards the kitchen before San interjects, “I’ll uh, grab a drink in a bit. There’s someone I kind of need to look for first.” Mingi blinks slowly, furrowing his brows as he locks eyes with Yeosang.

San looks between the two, licking his lips as he stammers out a cue to leave.

“If you’re thirsty you can go ahead, I’ll catch up soon,” San’s voice trails off as he hurries off in another direction, leaving the three where they are. Yunho pays little mind, still dozed off with too many drinks in his system. Yeosang mouths, “You good?” towards Mingi just as he has to fling his arm out to catch his roommate who's starting to lose the ability to stand straight.

Mingi sighs, biting the inside of his cheek as he looks off into the crowd. He decides there in that moment, yes, he will in fact, be getting a drink. Yeosang catches the look of defeat in the boy’s eyes but before he can silently plead with his eyes for him to stay, Mingi is turned around already.

Yunho slings his arm around the younger’s shoulders, swaying them both to the slow song playing in the distance. He snickers to himself, shaking his head. Yeosang chews his bottom lip, “What’s so funny?” The boy shrugs, looking pointedly at Mingi disappearing into the crowd, head of black hair still peeking out above the others. “Isn’t San kind of oblivious, Mingi clearly wants to rip his clothes off.” Yeosang deadpans for a moment, the absolute fucking irony.

Seonghwa is more than a just little on edge right now. He’s just about to walk into a party that he knows he should not be at, first because he’s rostered for a shift tomorrow at the crack of dawn. Secondly, his friends are excruciatingly good at encouraging him to drink. Something he’d happily entertain even with the promise of a shitty hangover.

That was typically the case, right up until four hours ago when he knocked back the last few pills from his second script of oxy. Without counting how many to actually take.

And finally, he also kind of freaked out after actually seeing the now empty orange bottle, so he had texted his friends that he would be coming tonight after previously opting out. Not that he’s an addict or anything, but withdrawal can be a bitch, or so he’s heard. Anyways, that’s the background for why he’s standing in front of a fraternity house with some artsy alternative looking drug dealer, handing him a wad of cash.

The two of them talk for a bit, letting Seonghwa know he’ll throw in some free ecstasy just for his pretty face. The guy is pretty hot, so Seonghwa thanks him with a flirty smile as he shoves the plastic bags in his pocket.

If you aren’t too familiar with the wonderous world of opioids, specifically oxycodone, here’s the 101. Number one, only take it exactly as prescribed by a healthcare professional. Number two, never mix it with alcohol (or any other depressants for that matter).

His mind is on absolute overdrive right now, studying for exams, picking up extra shifts, he’s there early in the mornings and working closing ones too. The combination of these things are giving him a measly two to three hours of shut eye at most on the daily.

The party lights are beginning to flash in his eyes so much they’re seizure inducing and he’s ready to start drinking so every thought running in his mind just slows down. So he does. He starts slow, letting his friends fill his half empty cup of soda to the brim with vodka.

Eventually it gets to like, three quarters liquor then he decides to take a break. He’s not that irresponsible. Seonghwa knows he has to control himself. He’s also spitting complete bullshit if you couldn’t tell. Seonghwa had gone straight to shots after his solo cup had been emptied the first time. Alcohol doesn’t hit him too bad, but when the oxy does hit instead, it hits hard.

If he wasn’t so out of it, he’d probably be describing some pretty fucked sensory details right now. The party lights becoming brighter, but not hurting him anymore. The walls waving back and forth, starting to swirl. Or melt, the pills definitely kind of mess with some visual receptors if you can’t tell already.

Seonghwa lets out a small laugh as the music’s beat begins pounding in his chest. His breath staggers as the faces of the people surrounding him begin to blur and his arms and legs start to tingle a little. He’s happy, he feels okay now. Actually, wrong. It’s even better. He’s on top of the fucking world.

Whatever happened to Seonghwa from the moment his dopamine surged to the rest of the night can’t be recalled from memory now unfortunately. Fragments of his time at the party (and a personal, very private after party) however could instead be pieced together thanks to all the new photos and videos captured by his phone. It started off pretty tame, him screaming butchered versions of lyrics to songs, dancing and whatnot.

Then there’s a clip of a bathroom stall, white powdery lines on the metal toilet paper dispenser with some guy’s voice in the background. Then there was more dancing, which developed into PG-rated snippets of some form of grinding with a pretty boy who kind of reminds him of a puppy. Then as you continue to scroll you’ll find a video taken from the back camera, albeit a little shakily, of him walking down a faintly lit street hand-in-hand with who he thinks is the boy seen in the earlier videos.

They’re both extremely wasted, their words slurring as they stumble onto a familiar pathway that leads back to his dorm. (He also confirms both guys from the previous memories are the same person from his clothes and voice). It’s cute, in a way. They’re giggling and knocking into each other accidentally. The time stamps between that video, and the next few are just over ten minutes apart. The rest of the clips are short, but they paint the picture of their next encounters pretty effectively.

And that’s putting it lightly, Seonghwa basically made a fucking sex tape.

It’s lewd and provocative in every way, including anything and everything that a person could think of. Kissing, moaning, heavy breathing, broken gasps, his own high-pitched whining. The echoes of skin slapping against skin is apparent in almost all of them. The ones without it are replaced with the guy’s low, throaty groans. They were filmed by him too, pointing the back camera towards Seonghwa, who's looking up at him through a half-lidded gaze, awed expression as the boy swipes his thumb across his raw bitten lips.

The next morning, he wakes up naked to an empty bed. Once he finishes watching over everything captured in his phone, Seonghwa puts them into the hidden album in his gallery. His hangover feels like hell, so he begins scrambling around his room to find his jeans discarded to the floor from last night’s shenanigans. There’s a messy pile of clothes (including what he wore the night before, still turned inside out from what assumes to be impatience) that he has to filter through before he finally does find them.

Digging his hand into every pocket, he manages to first find the fresh bag of oxy and with more searching, the other bag too. As expected from whatever the fuck he did last night, that one is definitely pretty empty.

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starlightkun · 7 months ago

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⇢ word count: 20.8k ⇢ warnings: past unethical experimentation, brief blood and gore descriptions (some human and some non-human), you have to accept the premise of a single human empire in space in the future with colonies and a military and not think deeper about that, multiple needle/injection mentions, knife/injury/blood description, main characters are morally gray, and oh yeah cursing ⇢ genre: sci-fi, set in the near-ish future, humans and aliens and robots, black op mission, captain kun, ?????? reader, slow burn, fluff, dash of angst, ft. wayv as the crew of the vision ⇢ extra info: took a lot of obvious inspo for this one from isaac asimov’s robot stories, specifically his concept of positronic brains & the three laws of robotics (and if you’ve read any of his stories, you’ll probably be able to see some other places too) ⇢ series masterlist | prev. | next

“You deserve to know that I’m not entirely human.”

“Is that really how you feel? Inhuman?”

“There are parts of me that are… manufactured. Irrevocably altered. I don’t think I remember how it felt before I was like this.”

The next morning, you were awake early again. You stared into the darkness, listening to Dejun’s breathing. The distant sounds of two voices started getting closer, and you perked up at this. If some of the others were up, you’d be more than happy to join them, see if they needed any help getting breakfast together.

Just as you’d swung your legs over the side of your cot to stand, you heard the distinct sound of your name float in as it sounded like they had stopped right at the campfire. They were keeping their voices low, but it did little to help with the absolute silence all around. You paused, overwhelmed with curiosity.

“I asked Xiao last night, if he thinks Y/N will ever remember.” The first voice was Kun, and you looked at the sleeping doctor in front of you curiously. You could only imagine this conversation happened before you walked into the captain’s tent last night.

“Yeah?” It was Kunhang with him. “What’d he say?”

“He can’t say for sure at this point, since he doesn’t know what caused it.”

“Useful.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Part of me hopes she doesn’t remember.” Kunhang let out a bitter sigh with his words.

“What?” Kun responded, and you imagined that his face was as bewildered as yours was right now. Why wouldn’t Kunhang want you to regain your memories?

“Dude, you saw where we found her.”

“God, yeah. The sort of shit she probably saw.”

“Or did. She’s the only survivor. You don’t exactly get through Hell by being sweet and virtuous.”

Kun’s voice was surprisingly harsh, “We don’t know—”

“Hey, no judgment here. Who knows what she had to do to survive. I wouldn’t want to remember that either.”

“Her hands were clean when we found her.”

“A bit too clean, don’t you think?” A third voice had joined them now, Ten.

“Maybe she hid early, got out before the worst of it.” Kun was still vehemently defending you.

“You think the same person who pulls people out of the way of falling ceiling chunks without thinking is a coward?”

“I’m saying we don’t know anything.”

“And I’m just saying something’s not right about how Y/N ended up in there, Captain.”

“Nothing here is right, Ten. This facility, the experiments, the Skippers, all of it.”

“And you’re letting the only person left who might be responsible for it walk around free.”

“I wouldn’t call being stuck with all of us ‘free.’”

“But it’s not exactly a prisoner’s watch.”

“Because she’s not a prisoner. For all we know they could’ve been experimenting on her—”

“Or she’s part of that vague They we keep referring to.”

There was a moment of tense silence—or at least it sure felt strained to you from inside your tent, you had to imagine it was suffocating out there—before Kun spoke again. “We have no clue what was going on here, and no proof that she did anything. Until we know anything for certain, I’m not going to treat her like a criminal.”

“I’m not saying you have to. Look, I like her too, she seems like a nice person, but maybe—”

A loud yawn came from your roommate’s cot, and the conversation outside suddenly ceased. Dejun sat up slowly, rubbing sleep out of his eye as he let out another forceful yawn.

“Oh, morning, Y/N,” he greeted you, stretching and groaning. “Sleep okay?”

“Yeah, I uh, I just woke up,” you replied awkwardly. A couple minutes could be classified as just, you were pretty sure. “How about you? Sleep okay?”

“Mm, like a baby. You’re a much better bunkmate than Liu. Kid talks in his sleep. Recites code and equations.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at the mental image, momentarily distracted from the conversation you’d just been listening to. “That’s rather unfortunate for Ten and Kunhang then.”

Dejun shrugged. “Wong shouldn’t have been such a weirdo, then he might’ve been your roomie.”

He stood up then, groaning as he leaned over to touch his toes, then reached up and fully stretched his arms over his head. “Alright, breakfast?”

Ten and Kunhang had just started on breakfast when you left your tent, and apparently didn’t need any help, so with nothing better left to do and a lot on your mind, you turned down the paths between the fields. The artificial sun had already risen, full daylight around you, making it easy to keep your eyes on the ground under your feet. It wasn’t long until you heard footsteps behind you. You stopped in your tracks and turned to see who it was.

“Don’t tell me I’m late for breakfast again,” you groaned. “I’ve been gone for two minutes.”

“No, you’re not,” Kun informed you, putting his hands in his pockets as he stopped in front of you. “Can I join you? On your walk?”

You put your hands on your hips, suspicious. “Why?”

“Why do I want to walk with you?”

“Yeah. The exit doors are within view of camp.”

“I don’t think you’re trying to escape. If you managed to get out of the facility, your only two options would be a K’llor ship that you don’t know the state of, and our ship that has ZEN on it, who would never let you past the entry bay, much less off the surface. I don’t think you’re that stupid. Are you?”

“No. Glad we’re on the same page.”

“So… was that a no on the walk?”

“You didn’t answer my question, Kun,” you replied frankly. “You’re not as good at that as you think you are.”

“At what? Avoiding?”

“Yes, like you’re doing now. Why do you want to walk with me?”

“You went on a walk with Liu yesterday, did you interrogate him beforehand as well?”

“You’re still not answering my question, you’re just asking me more questions.”

He rubbed his face and sighed. “You know, never mind.”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Really? You just fold like that?”

“Clearly you want to be alone. I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t say that. All I did was ask you a simple question that you apparently can’t answer.”

“Ten and Wong are almost done with breakfast, I’d get going on that walk if I were you.”

“Fine.” You held your hands up. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Five minutes wasn’t nearly long enough for your liking, but as promised, you were back at the camp for breakfast. Kun and Dejun were already discussing something when you got back, Ten and Kunhang made you a bit uneasy after the conversation you overheard this morning, so you were pleasantly surprised when the Professor intercepted you, already with two plates of food in his hands.

“Want to eat with me?” He offered. “We can talk about plans for today.”

“Sure, Professor,” you accepted the food from him gratefully.

“I don’t think the notes will be too excessive for you to go through,” he began. “ZEN came equipped with the UHN’s entire language database, including what few Outspacer glyphs they had. My notes are just additions to that gathered during this mission—it’s not my focus language back in academia, so you’re not going to be reviewing years’ worth of research or anything.”

“What is your focus language then? For your xenolinguistics?”

The Professor momentarily looked over your shoulder, then back to you. “Ourogish.”

You tilted your head curiously. “Can you… make all those sounds?”

“I speak with an accent. But it’s passable.”

So they were doing something involving Ourogos and/or the Ourogi. Didn’t help much more, but it was information.

“So any corrections, missing links, anything you can give me and ZEN will be a help,” the Professor continued.

“I mean, I don’t know how good of a teacher I’ll be… I don’t even remember learning it.”

“Don’t worry, ZEN and I are quick learners.”

The other five left right after breakfast, and you were left with the Professor and ZEN. You took the Professor’s tablet that contained all of his notes under the shade of a tree in one of the nearby orchards. Resting your cheek in your palm, you started in on the file that had already been opened for you. You doubted ZEN would let you access anything else that was on here. The AI was projecting himself as a small cube above your knees, slowly bobbing up and down like a buoy in the ocean, but otherwise quiet as you worked.

The Professor, meanwhile, was restless, asking you what you were doing every two minutes, as he did something to the tree you were under, which you could hear by the rustling of branches and leaves.

After the fifth interruption, you finally told him through gritted teeth, “You know, Professor, this would go much faster if you didn’t stop me every two minutes.”

“Right. Sorry!” And he went back to messing with the tree.

A few moments later, he plopped down next to you, breathless, and held a plum out to you. You looked between him and the deep maroon fruit before accepting it.

“You seem off,” he said.

“What?” You mumbled, setting your plum aside.

“You seem off.”

“Do I?”

“Pissed that you have a babysitter?”

“Aren’t you pissed that you got landed with babysitting duty?”

He shrugged, taking a bite of his plum. “I’m a civvie, remember? I’d much rather stick back here and talk about a dead language than go look at a bunch of alien corpses.”

You made a noise of acknowledgment, still combing through his notes on syntax.

“So… What’d you do?”

“What?”

“To get put in time out. What’d you do that you need a babysitter?”

You let out a frustrated sigh, pushing some of your hair back from your face. “I deserve it, I know I do. It’s perfectly reasonable for Kun to stick me in camp all day but—I hate it.”

“Come on, you can tell me.” He nudged you with his elbow. “Us civvies have got to stick together, you know. What’d you do?”

“We were walking through the facility yesterday, and a piece of ceiling came loose. I didn’t even think about it, I just pulled Kun back so it didn’t hit him.”

The Professor burst into laughter, a stray drop of plum juice dribbling down his chin as he coughed through it. He sat forward, hitting himself on the chest with a fist. “Oh my God, that’s really good.”

“What’s so funny about that? I’m a liability, he had every right to leave me here with a babysitter.”

“Well, yes,” he chuckled. “If you’re going to be trying to save the guy in Class-V armor as an unarmored civilian with nothing but a rebreather, that’s a little concerning. But it’s also pretty funny. I bet that’s the first time Captain’s been genuinely surprised in years.”

“I’m glad you can see some humor in the situation.” You put your cheek back in your palm, striking out an error in his notes and starting the correction. “I think I ruined my chances of ever leaving the ag bubble again until you all take me to UHN Main for debriefing.”

“It’s not so bad in here.”

“Yeah, but… everything’s out there. Whoever I am, whatever I’ve done, whatever I wanted to do, whoever I wanted to be, is out there, was out there. And I’m stuck in here grading.”

The Professor was quiet, and for a second you were worried that he was offended at your comparison between his notes and a grade-schooler’s homework until he spoke. “Would it change anything?”

“What?”

“If you remembered? If you found out who you were, what you’ve done, what you wanted to do, who you wanted to be? Would it change anything?”

“How could it not?”

“Would you decide that’s who you are now, just because that’s who you were?”

“I-I mean, it was me. I’m not a different person just because I lost my memory.”

“How do you know? You just said, you don’t know who you were, what you’ve done, what sort of future you wanted for yourself.”

“Well…”

“Y/N, what do you want for your life?”

“To remember what it is. My life.”

“And if you can’t? Right now, what do you to do? What sort of person do you want to be?”

“I-I guess I want to be an okay person. Like, pretty good to the people around me? And, live a life that I like? I don’t know a lot about what I like, but I guess I’d figure that out, and do more of that stuff?”

“That’s good. That’s a pretty good aspiration, actually.”

“Isn’t it kind of boring?”

“A little.” He shrugged. “But maybe, the person you were before you lost your memory, didn’t want that. Maybe you wanted something that you would now consider to be bad. Imagine if the you before this wanted to kick as many puppies as possible before you died.”

“Why—”

“It’s a hypothetical. Do you want to do that, right now?”

“No, of course not.”

“If you found out, right now, that you wanted to do that before you lost your memory, would that change anything? Would you suddenly want to kick puppies?”

You crossed your arms. “No.”

“And do you want to crusade for Universal Peace until the end of your days?”

“That… sounds very tiring.”

“Yes? No?”

“Probably not.”

“So if you found out that the you before you lost your memory was dedicating your life to doing that, would you suddenly want to? Would that change anything?”

You took a deep breath. “No.”

“Obviously, it’s got to suck not remembering friends or family or anything like that. But you’re still a person without those memories, Y/N. You’re still you, just whoever you are now.”

“Thanks, Professor.” You smiled a little, spinning the stylus around in your fingers.

“Now, why did you cross that out?” He pointed to the section you had been absentmindedly correcting. “I could’ve sworn I had gotten that listing function correct.”

“You were close!”

“You completely scribbled it out.”

That night, you were helping Ten and Kunhang prepare dinner again.

“Everything okay, Y/N?” Ten asked as the two of you shucked some corn.

“Yeah, fine,” you answered shortly, tossing a corn husk onto the pile at your feet. “Why?”

“You seem a bit…”

“Off?” You guessed.

“Yeah.”

“That’s what the Professor said earlier.”

“Something happen with the captain?” Kunhang questioned from where he was chopping up ingredients with a pocketknife and plastic container as his cutting board.

You pressed your lips together in a line before replying. “I don’t know. Why are you asking?”

“He uh, he said he was going to join you on your walk this morning. And then came back alone.”

“We had an argument, I guess. It was about nothing.”

“Y/N—”

“No, seriously, it wasn’t anything of substance.” You huffed, grabbing your next cob. “I asked him why he wanted to walk with me, he refused to answer. That’s it.”

There was an odd pause, and you turned your gaze up to see the other two exchanging a look.

Ten spoke next, “Well I’m sure being stuck in the ag bubble with the Professor all day wasn’t fun either.”

“The Professor wasn’t the problem. Sucked being put in timeout. Rightfully so, but it still sucked.” You had finished with your ears of corn, and took them over to Kunhang’s makeshift station.

“So you saved him from getting concussed by falling ceiling with no concern for your own safety, big deal,” Kunhang scoffed, gesturing wildly with both hands as he talked. “If you ask me, that kind of instinct is a good thing. Bit hypocritical for the captain to be punishing you for it anyway.”

Ten watched Kunhang waving the knife around warily. “Careful with that thing, Wong, you’re gonna—”

As Ten was talking, Kunhang had tried to spin the knife around his finger by the handle, but you knew it wasn’t going to be successful, grabbing the spinning blade before it could take his finger off. And before you even realized what you were doing. The action registered in your mind at the same time the sharp edge cutting open your palm did, and you let out a yip of surprise and pain, dropping the knife to the ground.

“—take someone’s eye out.” Ten finished his sentence almost absentmindedly, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—” Kunhang cursed as you all watched blood well up in your hand from the cut. “Captain Qian’s going to kill me.”

“Well don’t just stare, go get Xiao!” Ten scolded his teammate, getting to his feet. “Or—fuck! ZEN! Where’s Xiao? Tell him to get over here!”

“Shit, Y/N!” Kunhang was scrambling around for something. “God damn it! Don’t we have paper towels or something?”

“What the hell is going on out here?” Kun emerged from his tent, annoyed gaze quickly flitting over all three of you before zeroing in on your hand and turning hard. He made it over to you in three quick strides, taking your hand by your fingertips to avoid where your blood had started to drip down your forearm to your elbow.

He looked down at the ground, and saw the knife at your feet glinting in the firelight. “What happened?”

Ten took the lead, “Wong was—”

When the captain immediately turned on him, Kunhang quickly jumped to defend himself.

“No, no, listen, I didn’t—Okay, yes, I probably shouldn’t have been trying out tricks with the knife, but Y/N just grabbed it. I didn’t do this to her,” he pleaded with Kun, then look at you desperately. “Y/N, tell him, come on.”

Kun turned back to you, a frank eyebrow raised. You looked between the three of them and nodded. “He’s telling the truth, Kun.”

“Wong, stop doing knife tricks,” Kun ordered sharply.

Kunhang gulped. “Sir, yes sir.”

“ZEN, call off Xiao,” Kun commanded, making the other two exchange a worried look. The captain’s tone was still biting as he addressed the AI again, “Of course not, tell him I’ve got her.”

Then Kun was ushering you towards his tent, and you obliged. The flap had been clipped up when you entered, and you noted that he unhooked it after him, letting it hang closed and unzipped. He nodded towards his own cot for you to sit, and you did so hesitantly, holding your non-injured hand under your elbow to catch the blood that you were now very aware was dripping onto anything under you.

Kun rooted around in a pack at the end of the cot, then pulled up and sat on the container that had served as your seat last night when you administered his injection. He unhooked his canteen from his waist, putting a towel across his knees before he flushed the wound and washed your arm. He patted your arm dry, and grabbed a flashlight from one of his pockets to shine onto your hand to get a closer look at the cut. It was a thin slice across most of your palm, but the majority of it didn’t look too terribly deep at least. More blood rushed to the surface again as he clicked the flashlight off and put it away, grabbing his next materials.

Kun didn’t even need to speak for you to feel the disappointment seeping off of him. He silently pressed a gauze pad to the slice, and you felt both a dull pressure and sharp sting, gritting your teeth against it to avoid making a sound. As he started wrapping bandages around the site, you finally put some kind of words together.

“I don’t know who I used to be, before I lost my memory,” you started quietly, and he flicked his gaze up from your hand to your eyes for a moment before looking back down at his task. “And it’s going to take a while for me to figure out who I am now. Maybe my whole life. But I know that I can’t stand the thought of seeing anybody, any of you, getting hurt if I can do something about it.”

“You’re telling me you’re going to keep doing stuff like this?” He was still meticulously wrapping your palm.

“Yes. And you can keep me in camp, have the other guys babysit me, whatever you need to do for your mission. But I didn’t want to make some promise to you that I know I’m not going to keep.”

Kun sat up straight again, having finished with bandaging your hand. He held your gaze steadily this time. “I suppose I should thank you for your candidness, and not lying to me just to get out of here.”

“Was that you actually thanking me, or…?”

“Let’s make a deal, since I’m not keen on making you a prisoner in the ag bubble for however long we’re here, you’ve proven yourself useful, and I need my crew out there and not on… babysitting duty.”

You perked up at this. “Okay, what are the terms?”

“I assume Xiao has already asked you to give me the injections?”

“He’s mentioned it. I’m not sure why he thinks I’d convince you any better, but you need them, Kun.”

“You can give me the injections every night, no complaining, no skipping. And you can leave the ag bubble with at least one of us. But whenever you do some stupid thing like this, you come get me, okay? I’m the captain, which makes everyone here my responsibility, including you.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Kun held out a hand, and you eagerly shook it with your non-bandaged one.

“So, I will see you back here after mess then.” He stood, starting to clean up.

“See you then.” You nodded, standing and slipping back out of his tent.

The others had all returned to camp, and Dejun immediately threw his hands up in disbelief as he saw you coming back over.

“What the hell?” He reached for your arm to inspect the bandages. “First I have ZEN telling me you have a medical emergency back at camp, then thirty seconds later he’s telling me there’s direct orders from the captain that I don’t need to come back for your medical emergency because he’s going to take care of it? Did the captain go to med school in the fifteen minutes I was gone?”

“It was just a cut, Dejun,” you reassured him, nevertheless letting him turn over the injured hand. “Clean cut, no debris in the wound, it just needed to be cleaned and bandaged up.”

He rolled his eyes, letting you go. “God, why am I here? Everybody’s a doctor now!”

Mess was a quiet and short affair, and you swore Kunhang scooped out an extra big portion for you tonight. After, everyone tended to their post-mess duties, and you kept an eye on Dejun in your periphery. You weren’t sure how much the others knew about Kun's injections, so you figured intercepting him in your tent to let him know was the safest choice. When Dejun ducked into your tent, you looked at the couple dishes that Ten was still drying and you would then need to put away.

“Hey, uh, I’m sorry, but do you mind if I go ask Dejun for something?” You asked them sheepishly, hoping they wouldn’t have any questions for that extremely vague question.

“Oh, shit, your hand!” Ten looked down at it. “Yeah, of course, I’m sure your endorphins have worn off by now, it must hurt like a bitch. Go, we can finish up.”

You hadn’t really thought much about the dull, persistent pain throughout dinner. Sure, it felt a bit uncomfortable whenever you bent or closed your palm, but that wasn’t really in the forefront of your mind. After all, you having a cut palm right now was much more manageable than Kunhang missing a finger for the rest of his life.

You bit down on your lip, feeling a little bad about misleading them, but then shot them a quick smile. “Thanks, guys.”

Hurrying over to your tent, you barely caught Dejun before he left, nearly toppling him over, in fact.

“Jeez, Y/N, see a ghost?” He stumbled back. He was still in his casual clothes, one of his medic packs around his hips like usual.

“No, sorry, didn’t mean to hit you,” you apologized. “I just wanted to find you before you went to Kun’s tent.”

“Why? Everything okay with your hand?” He asked.

“Huh?” You looked down at your hand, having once again forgotten that it was injured for a moment. “Oh, no, I’m okay—”

“I don’t mean to be abrasive, but can it wait? It usually takes at least fifteen minutes of coercion on a good day before he’ll let me do it. If he even does.”

“That’s why I’m here. Kun agreed to let me give him the injections. Every night, no complaining and no skipping,” you explained, watching as his face turned into a deep frown. “That’ll be okay, right? It’s just med-pods, those are designed for soldiers to use on themselves and each other in the field with no medical training.”

“Yeah, I’ve just been doing it because it’s kind of a weird angle for him to get to on his own, and I couldn’t trust him to do it every night himself.” Dejun slowly unzipped the pack, still with that same look on his face.

“Then… what’s wrong? You look worried.”

“Captain Qian just agreed to let you do the injections? Out of the blue?”

“We did make a deal,” you admitted, watching as he pulled a couple things out of the pack.

Dejun’s eyes shot up to yours as he placed a med-pod and alcohol wipe in your clean hand. “And what was your end? Stop catching flying knives with your bare hands?”

“Not quite… We both know I’ll probably do something like that again, so—”

“House arrest? Can’t leave the ag bubble until the mission is over?”

“When I leave the ag bubble, I have to be with one of you guys.”

Dejun didn’t conceal his unimpressed look very well. He probably wasn’t trying to.

“And when I do something like this again,” you held up your injured hand, “I have to tell him, since he’s responsible for everyone.”

The doctor rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Uh-huh. Go, I don’t want to give snark to the wrong person.”

“What—”

“Go. You need to give the captain his injection, remember?”

“Right. Uh, see you in a bit.” You tucked the materials into your pocket before ducking out of your tent.

The entrance to Kun’s tent was still down and unzipped, and you stopped outside, having learned your lesson last night. Hesitantly, you called out his name instead.

“Come in.”

You quickly parted the flap and slipped inside.

Kun was sitting on his cot already, and when he had appraised that you were alone, you saw his features contort from their usual stoic default to a slight wince. You pulled up the container seat next to him, and gestured for him to lie down.

“How’s your hand?” He asked, staying upright as he reached for your extremity.

“It’s fine, Kun,” you informed him, letting him look over the bandages. “Honestly, I keep forgetting about it, it barely even hurts.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Now come on, your turn.” You took your hand back and pointed insistently at the cot.

He grabbed at his lower back and huffed a little bit as he maneuvered around to lay on his front. You frowned thoughtfully as he pulled up the hem of his shirt for you.

“Is the med-pod as effective as before?” You questioned, opening the disinfectant wipe.

“How do you mean?”

You delicately wiped the area, careful not to touch his skin with your fingers. “Is it wearing off faster? Does it not relieve as much pain as before?”

“I can’t be using up all our supplies.”

“Is that a yes?”

“One is fine.”

“But two would be more effective.”

“I can’t be using twice as many as before. If someone else needs them—”

“The UHN won’t resupply your vessel?”

He sighed. “They will. I’m just—I don’t know. I’m used to scarcity and self-reliance. Must be a Dura-Jil boy thing.”

You lined the med-pod up, and like last night, didn’t give a countdown before pressing the start button. “Is this your first crew?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because you said you’re used to self-reliance. If you’d been a captain for a while, you would have gotten used to relying on others, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, they are,” he chuckled fondly. “I do rely on them. Or I’m learning to, I guess.”

There was a pause, and as you watched the med-pod drain you felt a sense of urgency, not wanting to waste the opportunity you had in front of you. The conversation you’d heard this morning was still on your mind.

“What if it turns out that I was involved in whatever was going on here? Did horrible stuff…” You asked tentatively. “Then what’ll you do?”

“I don’t think you were,” he replied simply.

“You don’t know. I don’t know.”

“Call it a hunch.”

“I won’t resist, or try to escape. Whatever the UHN wants to do with me, I’ll comply fully,” you declared, quiet but firm in your convictions.

He turned to look at you over his shoulder, brow furrowed. “Why are you talking like you’ve already been put on trial and found guilty? You just said it yourself, we don’t know anything. Either way.”

“Yeah, but we know they weren’t doing good things here… and I’m here.”

“No, we don’t even know what they were doing here. Somebody made sure of that. Besides, you could’ve been scrubbing the floors for all we know. I don’t think you deserve the death sentence for that.”

“I doubt they had people scrubbing the floors…” You pointed out.

“I’m just saying, there’s other reasons you could’ve been here, Y/N.”

“Like… being experimented on.”

“I didn’t want to say anything.” His gaze and his tone softened. “Do you… You don’t remember anything like that, do you?”

“No, I don’t have any episodic memories before meeting you. But that’s what you were thinking, right? That I was either the experimenter or the subject?”

“You weren’t wearing a lab coat when we found you, and you don’t have a neural port.”

“Dejun doesn’t have a neural port, and he’s UHN.”

“We don’t know enough to think anything about anything, okay?”

“ZEN should be finished with synthesizing the Outspacer into his translation program by morning. We can go through the computer tomorrow,” you reiterated yours and the Professor’s report from the pre-mess meeting. “With any luck, there will be employee profiles.”

“And what will you be hoping to find in them?”

“The truth.” The med-pod clicked off then, and you reached out to grab the empty device. “Whatever that is.”

Kun sat up, keeping his eyes on you as you went to stand. Your task was done for the night, so was your time with him.

“Why do you seem so convinced that you were involved?” He questioned, drawing you back into conversation and stopping you from leaving entirely.

“I… know too much, Kun.” You shook your head. “Why do you seem so convinced that I wasn’t?”

“You said it yourself, Y/N. You can’t stand the thought of seeing anybody get hurt if you can do something about it. I find it hard to believe that you’d do something like… whatever what going on here.”

“Dejun said that humans can do really bad stuff if they think they’re doing the right thing. Even to each other. Maybe I just thought it was the right thing.”

“Maybe,” Kun shrugged. “Or maybe you didn’t do anything. What were you two talking about? When he said that.”

“Your skeletal enhancements,” you admitted.

“I see.”

“Do you know how much longer your mission here will be?” You asked. “When can you get your next adjustment? Dejun said it happens at UHN Main, so it’ll be when you drop me off after this, right?”

“No, I don’t know how much longer this mission will take,” he replied. “It depends on what you and ZEN find on that computer tomorrow. And yes, it’ll be at UHN Main.”

“Then ZEN and I will just have to be quick.”

“Don’t rush for my sake,” he warned, an edge to his voice. “We need to make sure we get everything from here. I can wait.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Fine. But I’m bringing two med-pods tomorrow, and you’re taking both of them, no complaints, no skipping. Understood?”

The corner of his lip twitched as he nodded. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Kun.”

And with that, you left his tent. Back in your own, you gave the med-pod back to Dejun, filling him in on Kun’s condition.

“It’s getting worse,” you told the doctor, keeping your voice hushed. “The medication wears off faster and isn’t as effective. I think he needs two.”

“Damn it…” He sighed, zipping the pack up. “Yeah, start taking two tomorrow. Stupid son of a bitch. I told him not to skip his last tune-up.”

“Do you have any idea how much longer he can go without one before… it gets worse?”

“No.” Dejun informed you shortly, running a hand through his hair. “No clue. This is the longest he’s missed one before.”

“Oh no…”

“Yeah. Like I said, stupid son of a bitch.”

“This mission… He really believes it’s that important? More than him? Than his health?”

“Yes,” he answered immediately. “The program he was in… Let’s say he didn’t just get some skeletal enhancements and cool armor. You should ask him about it.”

You were quiet, and Dejun plopped himself back down onto his cot. You silently put yourself to bed, staring up at the ceiling of the tent listlessly as Dejun put out the lamp, plunging you into the darkness of night.

Resting your cheek in the palm of your injured hand, you tapped the edge of the keyboard with your fingernail anxiously as you waited. ZEN had to break off another fragment with his new Outspacer translation update, then join those two fragments together once plugged into the computer. And of course, the fragment(s) in the computer were asynchronous with the one in the crew’s HUDs and the Professor’s tablet, so there was no way for you to get an update from the ZEN that could actually vocalize anything. The computer had no microphone or speakers that you could see, only the keyboard, mouse, and monitor in front of you. You couldn’t even see the end of where the wires led, the actual computer itself. ZEN was plugged into a docking station at the base of the monitor.

The entire crew was in the robotics lab. Some milling around behind where you were sat at the computer, a couple others looking at the defunct robots in the side room.

Yangyang walked up behind you, one of the schematics books in his hands again.

“I didn’t know you were ambidextrous,” he commented conversationally, his eyes on the pages.

“What?” You looked up at him questioningly.

“Your hand,” he gestured to the bandaged one, “You caught the knife with that one, but you’re using the computer with the other. I don’t think my first instinct would be to catch a flying knife with my non-dominant hand. Well, it wouldn’t be to catch it all, but still.”

You looked down at your hand that was hovering over the mouse. “Oh. I don’t know, I guess.”

“What do you make of this?” He pointed to a drawing.

“It… looks like a hand. A prosthetic?”

“There’s no indication of anything mechanical, why’d you jump to prosthetic?”

“You found it in a robotics lab. I didn’t think they’d be doing anatomy practice for fun.”

“Robot-people…” Ten muttered under his breath.

A small window popped up in the bottom right of the right then, a chat box.

ZEN: I’m ready.

Y/N: How are we dividing this?

ZEN: I can review data without interrupting you.

Y/N: I’ll start in the first folder, you start at the last, we’ll work our way towards the middle?

ZEN: I’ll let you know if I find anything of interest.

Clicking into the first folder, ‘Robotics,’ you skimmed through the subfolder options. They were mainly named with seemingly incomprehensible codes, combinations of glyphs and numbers that made no sense. You randomly clicked into the first one anyway, and were presented with more subfolders. These were simply labeled in trial phases and sub-phases: Phase 0.1, 0.1.2, 1.0, 1.3, 1.5, 2.0.3. You again clicked on the very first one, 0.1, and were greeted with nothing. It was empty, not a single file to actually review. You clicked back out and selected the next one, 0.1.2. Empty again. Narrowing your eyes at the display, you clicked on 1.0, hoping that they had just maybe moved all of those into the succeeding phase. Nothing.

Letting out a huff, you clicked back into the chat window.

Y/N: ZEN, do any of the folders I’m looking in actually have anything?

ZEN: No.

Y/N: In the entire Robotics folder?

ZEN: No data.

You groaned, going back out to the main menu.

“What?” Kun questioned as you clicked into ‘Synthetic Biology.’

“That folder was purged. It’s just empty subfolders,” you informed them with a sigh.

“What were the subfolders?” Yangyang asked with interest.

“The main branches were just random glyphs? And then each main folder had even more subfolders with phases.”

“Must have been project names. Maybe serial numbers?” The roboticist suggested. “Can you go back?”

You did as he asked. “Now what?”

“Just read the first one for me? The individual glyphs, not as a sentence.”

“Blue, red, add, inside-of, twelve hundred. As in the time, not one-thousand and two hundred.”

“Noon?”

“Well, yeah,” you nodded. “But I figure everyone used twenty-four-hour time around here, right?”

“What are you thinking, kid?” Kunhang asked knowingly.

“Assuming it’s meant to be read as noon, translated back out and using only the first letters… B-R-A-I-N. Brain.”

The Professor lit up at this. “A code within a code! What’s the next one?”

You read it off, “Cube, add, sun, inside-of, noon, green. Casing?”

“Positronic brain casing. Like the sketch!” Yangyang practically ran to get the other sketchbook. “That must have had the actually specs and computer modeling of it. These sketches are just conceptual.”

“It’s a robotics lab, it’s not a surprise that they would’ve had positronic brains here,” Dejun pointed out frankly.

“Keep going, Y/N, he hates fun,” Yangyang urged you on, the Professor right on your other side with his tablet.

You read out all of the glyphs, every so often needing input from the others to find a more colloquial synonym in standard human that would actually make a real word. By the time that you were done with all of the folders, ZEN had popped up in your chat window again.

ZEN: I believe I may have found something of interest.

Y/N: Can you display it?

ZEN: Certainly.

And seemingly on its own, the computer went into the Facility folder, then into one of the subfolders. Before you could even begin to work through the nonsense Outspacer code, ZEN had already translated it for you.

ZEN: Employee files, by department. The personnel files themselves are no longer in here, but the comms directory survived.

“ZEN found something,” you announced to the others. “Employee directory. He says the actual personnel files are gone, but the comms directory is here.”

“So we’ve got a partial list of who was here,” Kun surmised. “Whoever had their own extension, at least.”

ZEN brought it up for you, and you skimmed through the names quickly, looking only for one. When you got to the end, however, despite not having seen your own name there, you still couldn’t let out the breath you were holding. This was only a partial list, after all. You could’ve just as easily worked here and not had an extension on the comms directory.

“Are those… pager numbers?” Dejun asked, leaning in over your shoulder to squint at the screen suspiciously. “On the second page. The first page are all three-digit comms extensions, presumably department heads and general-use areas, but this looks like a list of individual pager numbers.”

“They don’t look different than any old phone numbers, why would they be pager numbers?” Kun asked.

“Well, cell phones are entirely outdated with interstellar travel, but in the medical field, we still use pagers for quick communication within facilities. It doesn’t get clogged up with everything that’s in a HUD, they’re a cheap and efficient way to get short bursts of information from person-to-person. Medical facilities will usually set up their own short-range tower that’s only used by pagers issued by that facility to providers,” he explained. “The only thing on this planet is this facility, pagers solve intra-facility communication issues, and prevent anything from being sent out. Nowadays, ships don’t have receivers to pick up this kind of signal, if they even got close enough. They’d only be able to send messages from pager-to-pager here.”

“Everyone can talk to each other, but can’t send information to outsiders,” the captain paraphrased.

“Hold on a second,” Kunhang announced before abruptly leaving the room.

Everyone watched the door after him in confusion, occasionally looking around to see if anybody else was going to do something. You assumed the others who still had their helmets on could see what he was doing in their HUDs, as a couple let out noises of disgust, then a few moments later Kunhang burst through the door. He was triumphantly holding up a small grey rectangle, no bigger than the palm of his hand.

“Here!” He thrust it out towards Dejun. “Is this a pager?”

“I could’ve told you that without you pulling it off a dead body…” The doctor sighed, removing his own helmet before taking the small device into his hands anyway. As he turned it over, you saw several dark splotches on it. “Yes, this is a pager. They probably gave one to everyone working here.”

Your eyes quickly went back to the screen, to reread the list more closely this time. Nothing, again.

You went back to the chat window.

Y/N: Have you found anything else? We got stuck back in Robotics.

ZEN: No data in Synthetic Biology, Administrative, and Support. Facility still has files in it.

Y/N: What else is in there besides the directory?

ZEN: Maintenance history, blueprints of the entire facility, emergency protocols.

Y/N: What sorts of emergencies?

ZEN: Fire, severe surface weather, emergent stratospheric weather, alien invasion, human invasion. I can’t translate the final one.

Y/N: Pull it up.

With the first page of the mystery emergency protocol on the screen, you immediately realized that this gibberish must be in the code again, and went back to read the title again.

“Sun, cube, red, under, blue, blue, inside-of, noon, green. Scrubbing?” You squinted at the screen. “There’s no way this is a cleaning manual…”

Y/N: Scrubbing? Does that make sense with the rest of the document?

ZEN: It does not contain instructions for cleaning.

Y/N: What is in it?

ZEN: I do not believe I was equipped with many of these glyphs, and my algorithm is having trouble extrapolating reasonable suggestions for them without enough contextual words.

Y/N: You really just have a bunch of grammar and mostly food vocabulary, not a full dictionary. It’s okay, I’ll skim.

“You’re typing a lot,” Yangyang observed. “Is scrubbing good? Bad? What’s happening?”

“ZEN found the emergency protocols. There’s the usual stuff, though the addition of a ‘human invasion’ protocol at this human research facility is rather interesting,” you informed the others, scrolling to the next page of the document. “There’s one that he couldn’t translate the name of, though. He doesn’t have enough vocabulary to make any sense of the inside, either.”

“Scrubbing,” Kunhang determined. “And you said it’s not for cleaning? Maybe it’s like a hazmat thing?”

“No…” You shook your head, looking over just the headers. “This is definitely about… computers? Wait, and fire….?”

“Data,” Kun interrupted. “It’s about purging all classified data from a facility, digital and physical. That’s what scrubbing is.”

You all looked at each other knowingly. It was Kun who said what everyone was thinking, however.

“The Skippers interrupted the facility before they could finish scrubbing. The question is why they started the scrub in the first place.”

“It says here only two people can order a… scrub.” You read off the protocol stiltedly. “The… Sorry, give me a second.”

“Are you okay?” Kun had made his way to the front of the group, next to the chair you were in.

You pushed the heel of your palm against the space between your brows, squeezing your eyes shut. “Yeah, fine. It keeps switching back and forth between normal Outspacer and that code, it’s giving me a headache to read.”

“They probably used the code whenever there wasn’t a good Outspacer approximate for the word they wanted to use,” the Professor suggested, his voice rising with excitement. “It’s like… a pidgin of Outspacer and standard human with sneaky intelligence code thrown in. God, this is so fascinating!”

“Can ZEN or the Professor do the code?” Kun grabbed your shoulder, gently turning you away from the computer.

“I’d love to take a crack at it!” The Professor rubbed his hands together excitedly.

You let Kun usher you to your feet, and the Professor hurriedly took your seat. Dejun met you and Kun at the back of the group, a frown on his features.

“How’s the pain? Same kind as before?” The doctor asked.

“Yeah, same pressure,” you confirmed, still holding your head. “Not as bad, though.”

“I keep telling you and everyone else that you need to let your brain rest. And what do you do? Teach an AI a dead alien language, decode ciphers in said dead alien language…”

“Right. Sorry…”

“You can’t give her anything?” Kun questioned. “At least for the headache? She’ll rest tomorrow.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted. “It’s already going away. Save your supplies.”

“Y/N—”

“I don’t really have anything for minor bumps on me,” Dejun interrupted before Kun could escalate your bickering. “That’s back on the Vision. Just took the essentials down.”

“Admiral!” The Professor yelled out enthusiastically. “Only the Admiral, and the… Research Director can order a scrub.”

“Is that all it says? Just Admiral? Not Rear Admiral, or Vice Admiral, or Fleet Admiral?” Kun questioned.

“The Admiral, or an Admiral?” You added.

The Professor looked back at the screen as if double-checking his work. “Definitely the Admiral. I’m assuming that would be whichever one was overseeing this facility? Doesn’t give a name. And it’s just Admiral. But there’s two kinds of scrubs, actually. A partial and a full scrub.”

“What’s the point of a partial scrub?” Ten asked. “Why would you destroy only some confidential stuff, but not all of it? Isn’t the point to leave nothing behind?”

“Don’t know, but the partial scrub protocol only has them spare one thing.”

“Must be pretty damn important,” Kunhang commented. “What is it? A port-drive or something?”

“I doubt many of the personnel here had neural ports,” Dejun said. “They were scientists. I’ve only seen a couple on bodies since we’ve been here, and they were clearly soldiers.”

“Well? Does it say?” Yangyang prompted the Professor.

“Yeah, but it’s about as helpful as ‘Admiral’ was,” he sighed. “‘Proof of concept.’ A partial scrub preserves the proof of concept, with some of its own security protocols in place.”

“Proof of what concept? We don’t even know what they were trying to do here,” Dejun scoffed, rubbing a hand over his face.

Yangyang seemed interested again, though. “The proof of concept has its own security protocols? Is there any indicator if they’re internal or external? Like if it’s locked up somewhere, or if it might be… programmed into the proof itself?”

“No, it doesn’t say,” the Professor answered.

“What are you thinking, Liu?” Kun prompted the younger man.

“If it’s some kind of… robot, then they could program whatever security protocols they needed into it to make it secure for this partial scrub, without completely destroying all their years of work. But if it was… biological, it would probably need some kind of external security to not only prevent the wrong people from finding it, but also stop it from uh, escaping…”

“And what if it was a person-robot?” Ten replied.

The roboticist shook his head. “They just say proof of concept. That’s usually not anywhere close to the final product. I can’t imagine they actually made a person-robot, whatever that entails. After all, the ag bubble was still set for humans when we got here. And proofs of concept aren’t meant to be a fleshed-out prototype of the final product, either. They’re just supposed to test one or two functions of it and be thrown away after.”

“But this one was worth risking a security breach over,” Kun pinched the bridge of his nose. “Professor, in the full scrub protocol, does it say when the proof would be destroyed? First? Last?”

“Uhm…” He went back to the screen, scrolling and squinting at it for a moment before answering. “First.”

That garnered a few groans from the soldiers around you, but you saw the Professor suddenly perk up as he continued through the document.

“What is it?” You asked. “Something else?”

“That’s not the only difference between a partial and full scrub. The order’s different. I guess since a full scrub is a little more scorched-Earth and a partial scrub has to leave at least some kind of either digital or physical infrastructure for the proof… I think we can figure out if they were doing a partial or full scrub before the Skippers got here.”

“What’s the difference?”

“There’s a lot of things that happen simultaneously, Robotics destroying digital data while SynthBio destroys physical specimens…” The Professor hummed as he continued skimming. “But in a full scrub, the entire facility would be burned at once. In a partial, they only have directions to burn certain areas: the two labs, the Research Director’s office, places like that.”

“So there’s no individual fires in the full scrub?” Kun clarified. “It would all go up at once?”

“Yeah, just one big boom at the end.”

You all looked at each other knowingly, then at Kun expectantly.

“So they were doing a partial scrub,” he declared. “Which means we need to find that proof of concept.”

“We don’t know what it could even be, what it looks like, if it’s physical or digital,” Ten pointed out.

“It’s the best lead we’ve got. Has anybody seen anything out of the ordinary?”

“Uh… Everything?” Kunhang said pointedly.

“Very helpful, Wong, thank you,” the captain retorted. “Come on, guys, anything?”

“Was there anything in that safe room with Y/N?” Yangyang offered. “When you found her? Only survivor… might’ve taken the proof into the safe room with her.”

Kun immediately shot it down, “No.”

“Wong?” Ten focused on the other Marine. “You might’ve had a better… perspective than the captain. You see anything in there?”

“I don’t remember seeing anything, no,” he shook his head. “But it can’t hurt looking a second time. We’re going to have to search the entire place anyway, right, Captain?”

“Yeah, top to bottom,” Kun confirmed shortly. “Again.”

“Yippee…” Ten grumbled.

“But I want that entire document translated first, and for us to finish going through all of the files,” he added sternly. “We need to know everything we can about what we’ll even be looking for before we searching.”

“ZEN and I will get right on it,” the Professor nodded.

“And the rest of us are just going to… watch him read?” Kunhang asked.

Kun took his helmet off and set it down on a nearby counter. “Afternoon off. Congrats, don’t kill yourselves.”

The others started celebrating, Kunhang, Ten, and Yangyang already launching into discussions of what they’d do with the free time as they headed towards the exit. They stopped at the door as they seemed to notice that you, Kun, and Dejun hadn’t moved.

“Hey, you guys coming?” Kunhang called out. “I don’t think the Professor needs you three watching over his shoulder.”

“I figured I’d stay, in case he needed any help,” you admitted.

“No,” Kun shook his head. “You’re going to rest. Doctor’s orders, remember?”

“I won’t be the one translating, just in case he hits a snag with a glyph or something,” you argued.

“He’s got ZEN. Two of him, technically. If he really needs you, he’ll let those at the ag bubble know and you can come back.”

You let up with a huff. “Fine. Are you coming then, Kun? You haven’t reached for your helmet.”

“I will.”

“So you get to stay but I don’t?”

“Yes. Because Xiao hasn’t said I need to rest my injured brain.”

“But you—” You bit your tongue before you could bring up his enhancements. He raised his eyebrows almost in a challenge, and you simply narrowed your eyes at him. “I will come looking for you if you’re not back at the ag bubble in an hour.”

“I get a whole hour? How gracious.”

As you went to join the other guys by the door, you saw that Dejun was still in the same place. “Dejun, come on, not you too?”

“I’ll be there in less than an hour, swear it. Just need to talk to the captain about something,” your tentmate reassured you. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Stop worrying about them, Y/N,” Yangyang ushered you towards the door. “I told you, Xiao hates fun, and the captain’s a workaholic.”

“The river’s fine for swimming, right?” Kunhang questioned, pulling the door open.

“We’ve been drinking from it, I would hope so,” Ten snorted, following after him.

“No, I mean, there’s nothing living it, right?”

“If there was, don’t you think we would’ve had a smoked salmon dinner at this point?” Ten and Wong’s voices faded away as the door closed behind the four of them, leaving just the Professor, the two ZEN fragments, Xiao, and the captain.

“What do you need, Xiao?” The captain questioned, leaning against a countertop.

The Professor was utterly locked into his task at the moment, and Captain Qian was used to seeing the civvie in such a state. Practically impossible to disturb, even by his own normal bodily needs—sleep, food, hygiene, it would all go to the wayside if he was allowed. So really, it felt like it was just him and Xiao. And ZEN, of course, but the AI’s constant presence was an unspoken fact of their lives at this point, so ingrained that he accepted that there was pretty much no privacy from ZEN at the end of the day, only from the other humans aboard the mission. Which was interesting as to why Xiao had picked this moment to get such privacy.

“Your deal, with Y/N,” Xiao began frankly.

“What about it? I’m getting the injections, figured you’d be thrilled,” the captain replied with a tilted head.

“I’m trying to figure out what you actually get out of it, Captain,” the lieutenant wagged a finger at him. “Because Y/N gets to give you your injections, which was a concern of hers, not yours; she gets to leave the ag bubble; and you didn’t even make her promise not to catch knives with her bare hands anymore.”

“She does stuff like that without thinking, it would’ve been pointless to make her promise not to do it anymore.”

“Which makes her a liability, Captain.”

“She’s an asset,” Captain Qian retorted.

“Because she can read Outspacer? She’s already taught ZEN and the Professor,” Xiao gestured to the man still at the computer pointedly.

“They’re not fluent.”

“Barely. And anything they don’t know, they can bring back to her. Like you just suggested.”

After the Professor, Xiao was the team member that the captain had known for the longest, he could tell that the doctor was slowly circling his actual argument. “What is your point, Xiao?”

“Is she really more of an asset than a liability?”

“I can’t afford to have one of you on babysitting duty every day.”

“We can switch out. Morning and afternoon shifts.”

The captain arched an eyebrow curiously as he studied the other man. “I figured you would’ve been one of the last people to be doing this. I thought you liked Y/N.”

“I do, which is why I don’t want her to do something worse than cut her palm,” Xiao sighed.

“I don’t either, but she told me quite plainly that she won’t stop.”

Xiao looked like he was about to pull his hair out. “Captain, a civilian tells you in no uncertain terms that they will endanger themselves and your mission, and you strike a deal to continue letting them?”

“She’s not… It was a judgment call, Xiao,” he declared sharply.

“And I’m still thinking about what you get out of the deal…” The doctor was pacing now, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Whenever she gets hurt, she has to go to you?”

Captain Qian shifted in place, stretching out his neck and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m the Captain, you’re all my responsibility—”

“Injured people are my responsibility. What do you get out of patching up a civvie every time she hurts herself?” Xiao scoffed.

“I need to know how often she’s—”

“You like her,” Xiao breathed out in realization, coming to a stop.

“Excuse me?”

“That’s the only way for that stupid deal to make sense. You actually like her as a person instead of her just being some civvie that’s in the way of the mission. So she can leave the ag bubble, but you still want one of us with her for protection. And when she does stupid things—which you’re smiling about right now, you like that about her—” Xiao pointed to the faint smile on the captain’s face victoriously, “—you want to personally make sure she’s okay after.”

The captain had regained control of his features, staring at his teammate neutrally. “Are you done?”

“No denial?”

“I’m not going to engage with your baseless speculation,” Captain Qian replied, his voice sounding unnaturally tight. “So if that’s all, then you can go.”

“Didn’t really sound like a no to me.” The doctor was grinning now.

“That would imply that your theory was something worth denying. Which I’ve already established, it isn’t.”

“Oh my god, you’re an awful liar, Captain,” Xiao peered at him, delight on his own features. “At least about this, because I know you’re way better on missions.”

“Since you’ve forced my hand…” he sighed, Xiao leaning forward to listen eagerly. “You’re dismissed. Formally. Officially. Goodbye.”

Xiao chuckled as he hoisted his own helmet back up and onto his head, meandering towards the exit. “Alright, alright. See you in a few, Captain.”

And that just left him, the ZENs, and the Professor. The captain rubbed his face with exasperation, turning his focus back towards the computer screen. The utter silence that he had been hoping for was short-lived, however.

“So… Y/N, huh?” The Professor asked, and despite the fact that his back was still to him, Captain Qian could hear the grin in his voice.

“Aren’t you supposed to be translating?” He snapped.

“I can multi-task.”

“And be slower than if you didn’t. So focus.”

You were sat by the riverside, dangling your feet into the cool water as Ten, Kunhang, and Yangyang all swam around. Dejun had come back some time ago, alone, and was sitting next to you as he continued reading On the Ethics of Robotics. You were straining your ears as you listened for the sound of the door of the ag bubble to open, occasionally looking over your shoulder at it.

“He’ll be here, Y/N,” Dejun stated after the fourth time you had glanced at the door. He hadn’t looked up from the text, but apparently could read your mind.

“It’s been fifty-two minutes,” you replied derisively. “According to Yangyang, he’s a workaholic, and according to you, he’s a stubborn, bad patient. Excuse me for doubting that he’ll be eagerly participating in taking an afternoon off. Especially when some of his crew is still working.”

“That’s all true. But you forgot one crucial part.”

“And what is that?”

Dejun flipped a page. “He told you he would.”

“He said he’d be here, at some point in time. I’m the one who put the hour-limit on him, which he didn’t exactly agree to.”

“And yet, he didn’t tell you no, either.” Your companion said, the corner of his mouth twitching, as if he found something amusing. You doubted there was anything in that treatise that was exceptionally humorous. “He’ll be here, Y/N.”

“Can I ask what you needed to talk to him about?”

“You can ask. But that’s a different question than if I’ll answer.”

“I just… wanted to know if it’s about—” You looked at the other three, thoroughly engrossed with trying to splash and dunk each other in ways that were definitely unfair to poor Yangyang, who lacked anywhere near the same combat experience that Ten and Kunhang had. You leaned over to whisper to Dejun, “—the enhancements. If he’s okay.”

Dejun let out a chuckle, as if any of this were funny. “No, it wasn’t about that. He’s quite alright.”

You were able to relax a little with this confirmation. “Okay. Thank you.”

“How’s your hand, by the way?”

“Oh, it’s fine. I don’t even think about it,” you said, flexing your injured palm. “Doesn’t hurt.”

“Good. You should ask Captain Qian to change your bandage tonight.”

You looked at the doctor next to you with confusion. “Why…? But you’re… You were just ranting about how you’re the doctor here, not him.”

“Like you said, it’s just a cut. Don’t need an MD to change a bandage. Captain’s perfectly capable for something like that.”

“I suppose. But what’s with the change of heart of all of a sudden?”

“I have a feeling he’ll want to check on you personally, even if I were to change your bandage now. No point in changing it just for him to reapply a fresh one in a couple more hours anyway.”

It was then that you heard the front door to the ag bubble open, and you snapped your head around to look. You immediately recognized Kun by his gait, before he even took his helmet off.

“Fifty-four minutes…” You muttered to yourself.

“Told you,” Dejun said in a sing-song voice.

You continued watching as Kun disappeared into his tent, zipping it shut behind him. After a couple minutes, he reemerged, out of his armor and in his usual casual clothes. Instead of joining you and the others by the riverside, you frowned as you watched him take off on the trails between the crops, in the opposite direction from you all.

With a frown, you scrambled to your feet, giving the doctor a distracted goodbye as you went off after Kun. It didn’t take you very long to catch up to him as you cut through the grass as you made a beeline towards him.

“Hey,” you called out when you got close enough to him.

“Hey,” he replied over his shoulder, not slowing down or stopping for you.

“What are you doing?”

“Going on a walk.”

“Can I— Can I walk with you?”

He abruptly stopped and pivoted on his heel, turning to you curiously. You skidded to a stop in front of him.

“Why do you want to?” He questioned.

“So you don’t have to answer that question, but I do?”

“Just curious.” He shrugged, then jerked his head in invitation before he started walking again. “I won’t make you answer. It would be a bit hypocritical of me.”

“So how’s it going? The translation?” You easily kept up with his much more meandering pace now.

“The Professor seemed to be enjoying himself.”

“Anything useful? About what the proof of concept is? Or otherwise?”

“Not that he said. But he’s not very talkative when he gets like that.”

“Oh, okay.”

After a few moments of silence, Kun spoke again, “I’m sorry about this morning. It was… I had no good reason to not answer your perfectly reasonable question. I was just caught off-guard. I shouldn’t have been so abrasive about it.”

“Well, thank you. For apologizing.”

“The truth is, I don’t know why I wanted to walk with you. It wasn’t any sort of suspicion, I just saw you going and wanted to go with you. Nothing more.”

“Oh.” You looked down at your feet, once again struggling to not let it immediately go to your head. “I can understand that. When I saw you start walking, I wanted to go too.”

He smiled in just the slightest. “And here we are.”

“Would you mind telling me more about Dura-Jil?” You asked hesitantly.

“Why are you so curious about Dura-Jil?”

“I suppose… I’m curious about you. And where you came from,” you admitted quietly. “And you talk about it so fondly, it’s nice to see you not stressing about what’s going on right now.”

“You know, this really isn’t fair,” he shook his head with a chuckle. “You can ask me all sorts of stuff, but you never have to tell me any embarrassing childhood stories.”

“I didn’t ask specifically for embarrassing ones!” You protested. “And I would tell you if I could remember!”

“That’s okay, I’ll supply the nostalgia for now.” Kun looked up ahead, eyes seemingly focused on one area in particular. “We had to get all of our food imported from Earth. We had no farms, no ag bubbles, nothing. That was the first thing smuggled in, really. Food. Specialty stuff, higher-quality stuff than what was usually imported. I still remember the first time I had a strawberry.”

It was then that you saw what he was looking at, a strawberry field that was growing closer and closer.

“I… don’t remember ever having a strawberry,” you stated. “How old were you? The first time you had a strawberry?”

“The actual fruit, nine or ten. I’m pretty sure we’d gotten our hands on strawberry jam before that, though.” He stopped at the edge of the field, the plants nearby all dotted with bright red fruit. “My mom tried growing her own plant from some of the seeds, but as soon as she had to move the seedling outdoors, the climate froze it dead.”

Kun deftly plucked a handful of strawberries off the plant, and offered the gleaming rubies out towards you. You accepted one, then he took one into his other hand by the leaves, bringing it up to his mouth. You followed his lead, taking a bite. The bright, tart, sweetness was a pleasant surprise, and you decided that you quite liked strawberries, too.

“Ooh, that’s good,” Kun commented, dropping the uneaten leaves back onto the soil. “My dad built my mom a greenhouse, a small one, in our backyard. Took a little figuring out, but she could finally garden.”

“That’s really sweet of him,” you said, taking another strawberry as it was offered to you.

“Yeah, whenever I think about what love is, I think about that.”

You bit into the strawberry, looking at him curiously as he took another handful of strawberries off the plant. “How often are you contemplating what love is?”

He once again held his hand out for you to pick from first, then grabbed one of his own. “Comes and goes. Not often, as of late.”

“Been focused on the mission?”

“Trying.”

At that cryptic answer, you decided to try another question, “Do your parents still live on Dura-Jil?”

Kun once again dropped his discarded leaves into the soil, this time nudging some dirt over them with the toe of his boot. “They’re dead.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You bit your lip, wanting to kick yourself.

“It’s okay, you didn’t know.”

“For that, yes. But I’m also just… sorry. For your loss.”

“Even if you don’t get your memories back, I’ll make sure we do everything we can to get you back to… whoever’s missing you. Your family, your friends,” he said strongly, clasping his hands behind his back.

You looked up ahead, at the far end of the strawberry patch. “What if… What if it turns out that I don’t have anyone? That nobody’s waiting for me?”

“There will be somebody,” Kun assured you. “People like you don’t disappear unnoticed.”

“People like me?” You echoed curiously.

He started down the trail again, and you followed. “I didn’t see your name, on the directory.”

“So you were looking too,” you sighed, accepting the change in topic. It was something that had been nagging at you as well.

“You almost sound disappointed.”

“I just want answers. Good or bad,” you groaned. “All we know is that I didn’t have a personal comms extension, and didn’t have a pager.”

“Xiao said they would’ve given every employee a pager,” he reminded you gently.

“All we have is a lack of evidence of me being an employee. That doesn’t equal proof that I was… something else.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think we’re ever going to find proof of anything.”

“That’s my fear as well.”

“With no intent to stress your brain… Nothing feels any more familiar than the first day?”

“No. I mean, there’s the stuff I remember from, you know, the past few days. But nothing feels even vaguely familiar. No déjà vu, nothing.” You inhaled deeply. “I either know something or I don’t. There’s no grey area.”

“That must be terrifying.”

“I was shook up that first day, yeah. But right now I’m less concerned with the past and more with the future. You know, what I’m going to do from here.”

“I told you, we’ll help you.”

“I know, you said the UHN has programs—”

“No, we’ll help you, Y/N. We’re not going to just to abandon you as soon as we get back to Earth. Not until we know you’re good.”

“Thanks, Kun.” You offered him a genuine smile. “I… I guess I’m just worried about what to do. Who I want to be. I don’t really know if you guys can help much with that. I think that part’s on me.”

“Do you think you know everything about me and the kind of person I am?”

“Uhm, no?”

“You’ve only known yourself for as long as you’ve known me. You can’t expect to know exactly who you are yet. Or anytime soon.”

“Thank you.” You watched as Kun rolled out one of his shoulders uncomfortably, clearly trying to readjust something in his back. You furrowed your brows with concern; it seemed as though the injection from last night was starting to wear off. “How’s the pain?”

“Manageable,” he replied briskly, face relaxing again. But you knew it was practiced, rehearsed—a cover.

“Kun.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I wish you’d be kinder to yourself,” you sighed. “Honestly, this tough guy thing you think you have to do, it’s just… pathetic.”

He slowed your walk to a stop, eyes widened minutely as he blinked at you. “You really think I’m pathetic?”

“A soldier who won’t ask for help when they need it isn’t brave, they’re reckless and stupid,” you said frankly. “And yes, I think this entire charade you do when you’re hurting is pathetic. Pain has never made anyone stronger, healing it does. I don’t know if you think it’ll make you look weak to your crew, or that you don’t deserve to feel better, or if it’s something else—but you don’t have to do all this around me.”

There was a stretch of silence as he took a steady inhale, and you met his gaze unwaveringly. Kun looked down at the ground, then back up at you. There was a slight wince on his face, and you were unsure if it was from pain, shame, or perhaps both. “Do you mind if we sat? My back…”

“Of course, Kun.” You nodded, letting him lead the way over to a grassy patch under a tree in a nearby orchard.

Kun let out a soft but noticeable, appreciative groan as he sat down. Looking up above you two, you spotted oranges among the green foliage along the branches.

“Do you know why there’s no clouds?” He questioned. “In the ag bubble? It’s a pocket dimension; I figure between the plants and the river, the water cycle should still be working.”

“Well there’s no Sun, so that’s a big piece of the water cycle missing,” you pointed out humorously. “Ag bubbles carefully regulate the atmosphere, including the water vapor. Since the fields self-water depending on the needs on the individual crops, it’d be a little inconvenient for it to also rain.”

“And it’s a perfect, mild spring day every day.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “It is.”

“I know the guys are glad to stretch their legs without getting shot at. The Vision is a bit cramped, and we’re only off it for missions.”

“Sounds like an eventful deployment so far.”

“Very.”

You looked over at Kun leaning back against the trunk, his eyes closed for a moment. A soft breeze kicked up a few strands of his dark brown hair. You didn’t think you’d even seen him so relaxed, and you found yourself strangely happy that he felt like he could rest like this around you, even if it was partially coerced.

“Why did you join the UHN?” You asked, unable to contain your curiosity about him as usual.

“Hm?” He made a questioning noise, raising his eyebrows without opening his eyes.

“Why did you leave Dura-Jil and join the UHN?”

“Wanted to help Earth and humanity. Stars in my eyes, you know?”

You tilted your head curiously. “People from the colonies aren’t exceptionally fond of Earth. Especially those who had never even been there, and especially ones from Dura-Jil. Why would you want to fight for a planet you had never seen?”

He chuckled, and you got the distinct feeling that you weren’t in on the joke. “I—” He cut himself off, eyes opening as he sat up straight, gaze landing sharply on a spot in the distance as he seemed to be listening for something you couldn’t hear. “Okay. Yeah, got it, Professor. We’ll see you in a few.”

“Is everything okay?” You questioned, watching as Kun went to stand.

“The Professor and ZEN have hit a snag in the translation. It’s too much to bring back on the tablet, so come on, we’re heading back out.”

You stood as well, but didn’t follow him as he turned to go. He stopped and turned back to look at you, but whatever question he was about to ask you got cut short as he twisted in such a way that made him wince.

“You should rest, Kun.” You crossed your arms. “One of the others can go with me.”

He took a deep breath, then nodded. “See if Xiao can go. The others were swimming, it’ll take them longer to get back into their armor.”

“Got it. You go rest. I’ll bring you mess along with the med-pods tonight.”

“I can’t be lazing in my tent all day and have food delivered to me,” he snorted. “The crew will think I’m on my deathbed.”

“You could tell them what’s going on. Would that be the heat death of the Universe?”

“No, but—”

“If one of your crew was injured, would you want them to be doing what you’re doing right now? Leaving you in the dark? Refusing rest and treatment?” You asked steadily. “Or would you call them an idiot and send them to their tent?”

“You’ve called me pathetic and an idiot in less than ten minutes, you know?”

“I’ll call you a pathetic idiot if that’ll convince you to go lay down.”

Kun’s eyes crinkled as he laughed, hard. When he’d caught his breath, he held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, I get it. I’ll go rest for a bit.”

The two of you finally started walking back towards the camp, soon coming upon the others still hanging out by the water. Kun lifted a hand in farewell to you and casual greeting to his crew as he kept walking, and you watched him until he eventually disappeared into his tent.

“Y/N!” Kunhang called from the water.

“Yeah?” You replied, not bothering to sit or get comfortable.

“What was so funny?” He paddled closer to the edge you were standing at. “We’ve never heard the captain laugh like that.”

“Oh, uh, I called him a pathetic idiot,” you said with a shrug.

Everyone’s heads whipped around to look at you. Ten then turned a mischievous grin on Yangyang. “You’ve got to try that.”

“My parents paid good money for braces for me as a kid, I’m not going to disrespect their investment,” Yangyang retorted.

As the three in the water began bickering and teasing and taunting each other again, you turned your focus down to the doctor still on the shore. “Professor and ZEN need some help. You mind going with me, Dejun?”

“Sure.” Dejun snapped his book shut. “Give me a second to put my armor back on. Then you can tell me how you got away with insulting the captain to his face.”

That night, everyone was back at camp. The Professor was still messing around with a few series of glyphs on his tablet that he wanted to try on his own before letting you reveal the translation to him. The document on scrubbing was fully translated, and the ZEN fragment in the facility computer would continue going through the remaining files through the night. The scrubbing procedures didn’t really have any extra clues about the proof of concept that you could decipher, but it was worth a shot.

As the Professor tried out the glyphs, Yangyang and Dejun seemed to be discussing the book that the doctor had been borrowing from the younger man, as Dejun held it in his hand and they had a rather impassioned conversation in one corner of camp. You, Ten, and Kunhang were cooking dinner. And by that, you mean Ten and Kunhang were cooking dinner and you were watching them, as they had officially banned you from being near sharp objects while your hand healed. And you noticed that Ten was the one cutting ingredients tonight, not Kunhang.

“So why is there no meat here?” Kunhang asked you. “Ag bubbles can keep livestock too. Why not here?”

“I… don’t know,” you confessed. “I mean, technically ag bubbles don’t need to have livestock, since the crops can be modified to meet all nutritional requirements without the need for meat. Preference?”

“You think the Research Director was a vegan or something?”

Ten snorted incredulously as soon as the words were out of his teammate’s mouth. “Anybody who can do… whatever the hell what happening here also being a vegan would be painfully ironic.”

You felt a pit grow in your stomach as you remembered the conversation you’d overheard just yesterday morning. Impulsively, you looked down at your own hands, as if expecting to see them literally covered in blood, any sort of evidence of the sins they think you might have committed. You must have committed.

“How’s your hand?” Ten asked, clearly having seen the motion.

“It’s fine,” you brushed it off, putting both your appendages down and looking back up at the two Marines. “Do you guys think I worked here?”

Kunhang at least seemed a bit taken aback by the question, looking at Ten awkwardly for some kind of cue, as his buddy raised an eyebrow at you curiously.

“Do you think you worked here?”

“I-I don’t know. Nothing’s familiar.”

“We don’t have any proof you did anything, Y/N,” Ten said plainly. “All we know is that you were here when we got here. You’re not wearing a lab coat, you don’t have a neural port, you apparently didn’t have a pager.”

Kunhang picked up from Ten’s implicit conclusion, “You’ve been pretty cool since we found you. I think if you did work here, you’d be a lot more stuck up. Never met a UHN scientist without a bit of an ego.”

“And by ego, you mean God complex.”

“That too.”

You smiled faintly at their assessment. “Thanks. I don’t know how much of this is me or the amnesia, but…”

“It’s you now,” Ten shrugged.

“Soup’s on!” Kunhang suddenly announced to the entire camp.

As servings started being passed out to everyone who had swarmed the station, you accepted one as it was handed to you, then there was one dish left. The others looked around with confusion, realizing exactly who was missing as all their gazes turned in the direction of Kun’s tent.

“Is the captain… napping?” Kunhang hazarded a guess.

“No way that man takes naps,” Yangyang shook his head furiously. “Maybe he didn’t hear you? ZEN? Did you accidentally isolate his comms?” And almost immediately, followed it up with, “Oh my god, of course, my bad, I’m sorry. You would never make a mistake like that, you’re in Kunhang’s neural port, you know exactly who he wants to be talking to.”

“Is he okay?” The Professor asked aloud as well, presumably to ZEN, the only one of you who would have real-time information on that sort of thing. “Oh. Well should we… go get him?”

You picked up the extra bowl. “I’ve got it.”

Without another word, you headed off towards Kun’s tent. The front flap was down, but unzipped, and you stopped just outside to call out to him.

“Kun? Can I come in?” You requested.

“Yeah.” Came his short reply.

You ducked your head as you stepped in, careful to shield the food from the tarp as you entered. You had already grabbed the disinfecting wipe two med-pods from Dejun before starting the food prep with Ten and Kunhang, so you wouldn’t need to duck back out for those. Kun was laying on his back on his cot, which you were honestly surprised about. He started slowly sitting up as you approached, and once he seemed settled, you handed his food to him, then pulled up your usual container seat.

“Thank you,” he said, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“Did you actually stay in here the whole time?” You inquired, picking up your first bite on your utensil. “While I was gone?”

“I felt like I was going crazy, but yes.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “You should borrow Yangyang’s book next. Dejun seems to be enjoying it.”

“His robotics textbook?” Kun clarified doubtfully.

“It’s on roboethics. And what else are you going to do?”

“Good point.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But hopefully, I won’t have civvie-mandated bed rest again and need entertainment.”

“Depends on how you do with two med-pods, and how soon you get tuned up.” You pointed your utensil at him accusatorily. “You should rest while you can. You’ll be useless to your crew if you’re in even worse shape somewhere more dangerous than here.”

“Noted. So you, ZEN, and the Professor are almost done with the scrubbing protocol?”

“Technically, we’re done. But it was so close to mess that the Professor asked if I could let him try some of the last sections by himself tonight before giving him the real translation in the morning.”

“Anything useful for searching for the proof of concept?”

“Not that I could tell,” you sighed. “It just kept talking about preserving it, nothing about if that was in a physical location, or digital. And Yangyang said that a proof of concept could be proving any tiny facet of the final product, so we have no clue what this thing could be. Could be a single circuit for all we know.”

“It’d be something groundbreaking. Something worth risking a security breach.”

“And what does groundbreaking look like, exactly?”

“Yeah, that’s the problem, huh?”

“Mm-hm.” You had finished your food, and set it aside as Kun had a couple more bites left of his. “I think the organic material that Dejun found will be interesting, once he can analyze it on the Vision.”

“If there’s enough,” Kun added, also putting his empty plate down.

You started reaching into your pockets for your supplies, “Lie down.”

He reached for your bandaged hand. “Let me see your hand.”

You held it away from him. “Your injections—”

“I’m not avoiding,” he promised. “I’ll take care of you, then you can take care of me, okay?”

After a beat, you relented. “Alright.”

Kun began unwrapping the bandages as precisely as he had wound them in the first place, slowly revealing the gauze underneath. He left that as he reached over to grab his canteen, preparing to rinse the cut again. As he peeled the gauze off, you saw his eyes widen as you felt your own take it in as well. The gauze itself was stained with dark red blood, but your skin was fully mended, no open wound, no scabbing, not even a scar.

“What the fuck?” He breathed out, pure bewilderment in his tone.

You weren’t sure what to say, well aware that wasn’t supposed to happen. “Uh—”

“Wiggle your fingers,” he instructed, and you did so. “Does that hurt?”

“No.” It felt normal, no pain, no residual issues from having a knife go into the skin and muscle.

“Make a fist.”

You curled your fingers into a loose fist, then a tighter one when you realized it didn’t hurt.

“That hurt?” Kun asked again.

“No.”

He took your hand, pressing one of his thumbs into your previously-injured palm, hard. “That?”

“Nothing. It… It feels fine.”

He let you go, still looking down at your hand that you were hovering in between the two of you, unsure. “Maybe you’re part-Phaser?”

“My eyes aren’t silver, are they?” You moved your gaze up to his questioningly. “I feel like you guys would’ve mentioned that…”

“No, they’re not.” He shook his head. “Maybe it’s like… your great-grandma was a Phaser or something.”

“…I don’t know.”

“I’m going to wrap this up again,” Kun declared, grabbing a fresh piece of gauze and bandage.

“Why?”

His brow was set, face serious and tone level as he addressed you, “This is between us, do you understand?”

“I… Okay.” You nodded, swallowing down all your questions, most of which Kun couldn’t even answer. “Thank you.”

After Kun had finished bandaging up your perfectly fine palm, he dutifully laid back down, this time on his front, for you to administer the first of the med-pods. As you disinfected the injection site, you once again felt a strange sense of urgency to talk to him as much as you could, ask him as many questions as possible while you had this uninterrupted, strangely personal-feeling time with him.

“Do you like me?”

Kun immediately shot up to his elbows, and you could see the muscles in his back tense with the movement then stay tensed. “ZEN, stop eavesdropping.” A moment later, he looked upwards as he rolled his eyes at nothing. “Yeah, I know you’re in my neural port, don’t make me take you out of there. I said blackout my mic, including to you.”

You looked at him with mild alarm. You’d never been entirely alone with any crew member of the Vision, you knew that ZEN was always there, and knowing that it now really was just you and Kun only added to the odd feeling of intimacy you had about the situation.

He now turned his focus to you, looking at you over his shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“Like, as a person?” You tacked on some clarification. “I’m still trying to figure out who I am, and the others have said stuff like that—”

“Like what, exactly?”

“That they like having me around, or consider me a friend of some sort. I don’t know, I’m trying to figure out if I’m likeable.”

“Word of advice, Y/N.” He settled back down. “Don’t try to define yourself by how other people think of you. It’s never going to end well.”

“I’ll… take that under advisement, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” You positioned the first med pod.

“Does it matter?”

“Not for that, no.”

“For something else?”

You clicked the button, beginning the first injection. “Your refusal to answer is rather frustrating.”

“Your insistence that I answer is fascinating.”

“I’m getting a strange sense of déjà vu right now…” You snorted, thinking about your pointless little argument over him wanting to walk with you.

“You questioned my motives for wanting to walk with you, I’m questioning yours for asking me that question. Is that unfair?”

“I only know six people. Seven including ZEN,” you pointed out frankly. “So excuse me for maybe being a little nervous about whether or not those six people dislike me.”

He paused for too long to be comfortable before answering. “No, I don’t dislike you.”

“Not an affirmative.”

“Y/N, you’re afraid that I’m being polite? That I’ve just been tolerating you this whole time?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“Do I seem like a man who would waste so much of my time on niceties?”

“Well… no.”

“There you go. Seven out of seven, congrats,” he said dryly.

“ZEN likes me?” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you took the now-empty med pod off his back and grabbed the next one.

“He can’t hear us right now, but if he could, he’d agree with me.”

“Thanks, Kun.”

“I don’t know what that says for your general likeability that all of us like you, though.”

“That’s alright. You’re the only seven people I know.”

The next morning, everyone split up to look for the proof of concept. Just as you’d thought, the rest of the manual had given no more clues to its whereabouts, form, or purpose, and ZEN hadn’t found any new information in the computer to assist you either.

You were with Kun and Ten in the employee quarters, searching every nook and cranny you could for anything that seemed to be of importance. Either a fair amount of stuff had already been removed, or the employees didn’t have very many personal belongings to begin with. Often, you could only tell if someone had been living in a room if something was slightly askew, a bedsheet out of place, desk chair not pushed in all the way, lamp light left on. There was no personal memorabilia like pictures or knickknacks in any of the rooms you searched through, and you wondered to yourself if they had no family to bring a picture of, or if they couldn’t for some reason. The barren, muted grey walls were discouraging, but you still kept a secondary search going in the back of your mind, waiting to see if anything would spark some familiarity. If you could find your own quarters, maybe.

As you looked under someone’s bed, Kun went through the small dresser, and Ten rummaged around in their desk. The staff sergeant let out an incredulous noise, making you look over at him as he held up a small paperback book for you and Kun to see.

“Frankenstein,” he announced. “Bit on the nose, isn’t it?”

“Do you not like robots, Ten?” You asked curiously as he tossed the book onto the desk and went back to searching.

“Robots are fine, AI is fine. I don’t like the idea of people-robots,” he clarified. “I like all of those things—robots, AI, humans—to be very distinct from each other. Instead of worrying about turning into Victor Frankenstein, I think humanity should be worrying about turning into Icarus.”

“Icarus?”

“Old myth from an ancient Earth civilization. Icarus was a human who had wax wings built for him. He flew too close to the Sun, they melted, and he fell into the sea and died. It’s a lesson about hubris.”

“Unless they hollowed out the book to hide something in there, I don’t really care,” Kun interrupted sternly.

“No, I’ve got nothing,” Ten responded.

“Me too,” you sighed, standing back up.

“Next room, then,” Kun declared with little fanfare.

At camp that afternoon, the three teams had comparable results: Nothing. No proof of concept, or anything more interesting than the random book Ten had found.

The Professor, Yangyang, and ZEN were finishing up the secondary task you all had for today, marking off the dead employees from the comms directory, and the rest of you started on your evening chores.

“Done!” The Professor announced, drawing in the rest of the crew to gather around. “And uh, Y/N isn’t the only survivor.”

Nervous murmurs erupted around you, and you started at the Professor with wide eyes.

“W-Who?” You stammered out, your mind racing immediately.

“The Research Director, Dr. Yoon. He’s not here. Everyone else on the directory is accounted for, and we have no unidentified humans.”

“What do we know about him?” Ten addressed the group as a whole.

“Not much,” Yangyang spoke up. “Civilian only on technicality. He’s worked for the UHN for the past 40 years as a researcher. Everything else on him is classified since ZEN’s fragment has a lower clearance by default.”

“If he was here, then whatever he was doing was much worse than the rumors,” Kun interjected coarsely, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You know this guy?” The roboticist asked him, clearly surprised.

“Heard of him. At the UHN from other officers. I thought he was… retired. I suppose a guy like that couldn’t ever retire, though.”

“UHN probably told everyone he retired so they could send him out here for this super secret, super illegal experiment,” Ten suggested.

“Yeah, probably,” Kun agreed, his voice still short as his face didn’t lose the troubled look that had overtaken it since the Professor stood up.

“Don’t feel too bad, Captain, you probably weren’t even a Lieutenant back then, and it would’ve been need to know. Way above your head at the time,” Kunhang said, going to pat him on the shoulder, but one hard gaze from the captain stopped his hand in midair.

“We’re done here,” Kun declared, stepping back from the group.

“Alright, cool, before we break, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Kunhang questioned.

“I mean we’re done here. On Aegeum. We’ve gotten everything we need. Be ready to leave the surface after mess tomorrow morning,” he turned away sharply.

Ten called after him, “Wait, Cap—”

“Dismissed.” Kun tossed back over his shoulder, taking off from camp with a fast stride.

“And he’s gone.” Ten sighed, then looked around at all of you, who were equally dumbfounded. “What the hell?”

You were still watching after Kun’s quickly retreating figure as the others erupted into uncertain chatter. Some were still discussing the other survivor, while others were elatedly discussing finally getting off of Aegeum and where they’d go next.

“Sorry, excuse me, guys,” you excused yourself hastily, rushing off in the direction you saw Kun go.

You found him by the river, on a rockier patch of shoreline. He threw a rock at an angle towards the water, the stone immediately breaking the surface and sinking. The captain silently picked up another, casting it harshly into the river.

You stopped a fair distance away as you hesitantly called out, “Kun?”

“Yes?” He didn’t look back at you, just picked up another rock.

“Do you want to be alone?”

Another throw, plop, and sink. “You can stay.”

“Thanks.” You approached, keeping some space between you. “Who is Dr. Yoon, really?”

He turned over the rock in his hand before sharply throwing it at the water, creating a spray around it as it violently broke the surface on its way under. “He was the head of the program I was put in, at the UHN.”

“With the skeletal enhancements.”

“I thought he was dead. He was supposed to be dead.”

“How… did he supposedly die?”

“Skipper raid on the facility he was working at. Entire building was destroyed. No survivors.” He stated, though his voice was hard. “Or so I thought. I should’ve known the Devil wouldn’t have gone like that.”

“But somehow he ended up here.”

“Yeah…” He replied bitterly. Grabbing another stone, he motioned you closer. “Come here.”

“Huh?” You stayed in place as you tried to comprehend the sudden shift in conversation.

“I’m going to teach you how to skip a rock.”

“No offense, but you haven’t actually skipped a single rock while we’ve been standing here.”

“Trust me.”

“How do you know I don’t already know how to skip a rock?”

“How do you know that you do?” He replied with an eyebrow arched.

“…Alright, teach me how to skip rocks,” you relented, stepping towards him.

Kun stood behind you as you took the rock in your own hand.

“Okay, so first, you want to hold it like this.” He used both of his hands to readjust the positioning of your hand and fingers on the stone. “And you’ve got to stand like this.” He made some minute corrections to the alignment of your shoulders, hips, and arm holding the rock. Then, his hand was wrapping around the back of yours that held the rock, gently guiding it through a demonstration of the throw arc. “And you want to kind of swing, flick, release it out there, and follow through.”

“And are all of your rock skipping lessons this… interactive?” You questioned, turning your head towards the side where he was looking over your shoulder.

“Are you going to do it?” He asked, returning your slight teasing tone.

You wound your arm back, then did just as he’d shown you, swing, flick, release, and follow through. The rock skipped across the surface three times before sinking.

“Huh. You’re a pretty good teacher, Kun.”

“And here you were just questioning my methods.”

“Not their efficacy, just how often you implement them.” You looked back at him again, where he hadn’t moved from his instructional position. You hadn’t been close to the captain like this before, but you didn’t really mind.

“You’re a special case,” he murmured, meeting your gaze steadily. You found yourself holding your breath, watching as his eyes flicked down, then he suddenly stepped back.

Your back felt oddly cool as you turned to face him. Scrambling for another topic, you found yourself thinking about what else he had said at the very short status meeting. “So tomorrow we leave.”

“I want you to stay with us,” he said, taking you by surprise. “We don’t know enough about what was going on here, and with Dr. Yoon in the wind… We can’t—I can’t just leave you on Earth alone.”

“We’ve never known what was going on here, and you had never mentioned not taking me to UHN Main,” you pointed out calmly. “It’s Dr. Yoon, isn’t it?”

“The program I was in wasn’t just some skeletal enhancements and nice armor,” he admitted, sitting in the neighboring grass just a couple steps away.

“What else…?” You followed, sitting down next to him.

“I left Dura-Jil when I was fifteen, for the program.”

“You can’t enlist until you’re eighteen.”

“Didn’t enlist, I was selected, along with a bunch of others.” He said the word ‘selected’ with a hint of irony. “I was one of the oldest. We were supposed to save humanity, after some training, and a few… modifications. My age was probably why my body had a harder time acclimating to the modifications. I could only take the first round of skeletal enhancements, brainstem neural port, and cardiopulmonary augmentation.” He turned his head and parted some of his hair, letting you see the small port at the base of his skull. “Neural ports aren’t unheard of at the UHN—Wong and Ten have them, but theirs are situated higher up, since implantation in the brainstem is much riskier. But we had a special purpose, and they needed access to the brainstem for ours. It was the second round of skeletal enhancements that almost crippled me.”

“Almost?” You echoed, thinking of how well he seemed, aside from the degradation of his skeletal enhancements.

“Most of us who didn’t make it through either died or were beyond repair. Admiral Lee picked me back up, put me back together, and let me enroll in the Academy to join as an officer.”

“As in… Admiral Lee, the head of Intelligence?”

“Yes. Though, back then, he was only Vice Admiral.”

“Learning that not everyone wants the same kind of life… Were you talking about the life that the program had prescribed for you? Or the one that Admiral Lee gave you?”

“All of it, I think,” he let out a cynical chuckle.

“And what kind of life do you want now? For yourself?”

“Y/N…” He turned his focus from where it had been on the river to you. “I didn’t tell you all of that as a heart-on-my-sleeve, vulnerable moment. You deserve to know that I’m not entirely human.”

“Is that really how you feel? Inhuman?”

He sighed, looking down at himself. “There are parts of me that are… manufactured. Irrevocably altered. I don’t think I remember how it felt before I was like this.”

“So what do you think you are, then? If not human?” You asked curiously.

“I think Liu would classify me as a cyborg?”

“I didn’t ask what Yangyang would classify you as. I asked what you think you are.”

“I’m… something else,” he determined, voice hollow.

“Kun…”

“Hm?” He gazed over at you.

“Thank you for telling me. I do care, about all of that. Because it’s you, it’s about you, part of who you are, whether you think that’s for better or for worse. But that doesn’t make you any less in my eyes,” you said sincerely.

“Any less human?”

“Any less… you. Don’t you get it? That’s what I care about, not your alleged humanity, or lack thereof.”

“When Admiral Lee told me Dr. Yoon was dead, I celebrated,” he said with a cold kind of humor.

“I think that’s warranted.”

“Not because a bad man who had done bad things to me and other kids was dead. But because—because finally, the part of me that still wanted to make him proud had died with him.”

“Kun… I’m going to tell you something that I think you already know. Just because he played a part in how your body physically developed, does not mean that he made you the man that you are now. You are not his creation, or even Admiral Lee’s. You are your own person, whole and complete. A sum of all the parts, everything you’ve been through, and everything you’ve learned. But you. Not anybody else.” You placed a hand on his forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You do not owe that man anything.”

He looked down at your hand. “I don’t think I ever want you to remember…”

“What?”

“Knowing that he might’ve… to you. I think it might be better for you to never remember.” Kun slowly put his hand over yours.

“Oh…”

“What are we doing, Y/N?”

You looked around uncertainly. “Uh… sitting?”

“Why are you sitting with me right now? Instead of starting mess with everyone else back at camp?”

“Because I’d rather be here than there. Is that hard to believe?”

“No. I just…” He breathed out, looking down at your connected hands. “I can’t promise you any sort of normal life. Or anything, really. Other than me.”

“I wouldn’t really know what a normal life is. I have a feeling that I wasn’t exactly living one before this, either,” you pointed out. “That’s all I can offer, too. Myself.”

“That’s more than enough.”

“And so are you.” You reassured him. “So? Will you let us…?”

He swallowed, then nodded. “Sure, yes.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, scooting closer to him.

“There will be no way to keep this from the others,” he cautioned.

“Just how many warnings are you going to try to scare me off with before you realize I don’t care?”

“I was stating a fact.”

“It was the way you said it, how you looked at me. Like you expected me to leave,” you frowned.

“It should’ve at least given you pause. All of this should’ve,” he shook his head, carefully taking his arm back to loop it around your shoulders.

“And yet it didn’t.”

The two of you were quiet for another moment, then you heard Kun scoff under his breath.

“Yeah, ZEN?” He addressed the AI tersely. “Fine, you can patch him through... What do you need, Wong? Yeah, we’ll be there in a minute.”

“Soup’s on?” You guessed.

“Yeah…” He sighed, not making a move to leave yet.

“Do you… want to go?”

“In a minute.”

By the time you got back to camp, the others were already sat around the campfire with their dishes, though it looked like they hadn’t started eating yet.

“There you are!” The Professor waved to the two of you as soon as he saw you. “Thought we were going to have to send a search party or something.”

“We had to walk all the way back here,” Kun said plainly, grabbing both of the extra dishes from the food prep station and handing you one. “You all could have started without us.”

“ZEN said you were only—” Yangyang got cut off by Ten elbowing him in the side. “Ow! What was that for?”

“Thanks for waiting,” you opted not to address whatever that was, sitting down in the single large gap left between Dejun and the Professor, in the spot closer to your tentmate.

“So what’s the next destination, then, Captain?” Ten inquired. “Dropping Y/N off at UHN Main for debriefing?”

“Oh, shit, yeah.” Kunhang shook his head. “It’s weird, I got so used to you being here, Y/N. Kind of forgot you weren’t actually one of us.”

“Yeah, we’ll miss you,” Dejun patted your shoulder, then focused a pointed stare on the youngest crew member. “And I’ll miss you extra when Liu sleeptalks.”

“Thanks, guys,” you gave them all an appreciative smile before looking at Kun out of the corner of your eye uncertainly.

Kun cleared his throat. “However, Y/N will be staying with us for the foreseeable future, due—”

“Seriously?!” Yangyang interrupted incredulously. “I got chewed out for like two hours for even suggesting—”

“Because at the time, it was the reckless and stupid option,” Kun cut him off strictly. “But, if you had let me finish what I was saying, Lieutenant, I would’ve been able to explain that I now believe it’s the safer option for her. We don’t know the whereabouts of the other survivor, and there’s a very good chance that he has the proof with him—whatever it is. There’s too many uncertainties for us to leave Y/N on Earth alone.”

“You think this Dr. Yoon is a danger to Y/N?” The Professor questioned.

“More of a danger than being around us?” Dejun added.

“Yes,” the captain replied very seriously. “We’re a self-contained vessel; our courses aren’t plotted externally ahead of time, our missions aren’t documented in a centralized record after the fact, and we’re undetectable in flight as well. Nobody will know about her unless we want them to.”

Ten nodded. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

“Hell yeah!” Kunhang grinned and held a hand up towards you. “Welcome aboard.”

You accepted his high-five with a laugh. “Thanks, Kunhang.”

“So back to my question, then,” Ten cocked his head. “Where to next?”

“UHN Main,” Kun answered. “I need to provide the Admiral with an update, in person. We also need to resupply, and you all are due for some shore leave.”

They all erupted into cheers, and you found yourself smiling down at your food, too. UHN Main, where Kun could get his much-needed readjustment.

The rest of dinner was an amiable, jovial affair as the crew spitballed ideas for their shore leave. After the food was finished, everyone pitched in with cleaning up and packing away the materials that wouldn’t be needed again. You were leaving tomorrow.

“Y/N,” Dejun called for you when pretty much everything was done, but the others were still milling about, talking to each other excitedly. “Let me take a look at your hand in the tent.”

“Oh, uhm—” You gave in to his insistent tug on your elbow, despite your brain frantically trying to think of a reason why he couldn’t inspect your perfectly healed palm.

In your tent, Dejun started rooting through one of his med packs as you were still stumbling through the beginning of an excuse.

“Dejun, you don’t need to—”

“I know,” he said simply, standing back up and handing you a disinfectant wipe and two med-pods. “Captain’s got you. Right?”

“…Right.” You accepted the supplies. “Thanks.”

“Are you okay with this?”

“With what?”

“Staying with us. You know, not getting a normal life yet. I know you can’t remember, or maybe don’t know what that’s like, but… I don’t want you to think you have to do this. The UHN can give you a new identity, hide you in other ways.”

You paused, looking at him curiously. “Why did you join the UHN, Dejun?”

“After med school, I did my residency at a rehab clinic for veterans. Thought I could make more of a difference if I got to them earlier.” He fidgeted with the holster around his thigh.

“I’m okay with this,” you assured him. “Whatever kind of life I had before, normal or not… I can never go back to it. Even if I remember, it’ll never be the same. And after the war—who does have a normal life anymore? Or gets to say what that is?”

“Alright.” Dejun patted your shoulder. “I’m happy to have you aboard, don’t get me wrong. Not trying to get rid of you or anything. Just want to make sure you know your options.”

“Thanks, Dejun.” You gave him a smile before ducking out of the tent.

You couldn’t see the others around the campfire anymore, but you swore you heard voices and what sounded like splashing in the direction of the river. One last late-night swim, it seemed.

“Kun?” You waited outside his tent.

“Come in!” He beckoned you in just a moment later.

Kun was sitting on his cot, a thin paperback book in his hands.

“Is that the book Ten found earlier?” You asked, moving over the container you usually sat on.

“Yeah.” He held it up so you could see the cover. Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus by Mary Shelley.

“I didn’t realize you’d grabbed it.”

“ZEN could probably pull it up for me, back on the Vision. But my eyes hurt looking at those screens for too long, you know?” He put in a bookmark, a folded-up piece of graph paper, before setting the book aside.

He laid down without prompting, reaching around to adjust his shirt for you. You ripped open the antiseptic wipe first.

“So why now?” You asked, disinfecting the injection site. “Why do you want to leave Aegeum now? There were lots of other times you could’ve called the mission over.”

“I need to report Dr. Yoon being alive to Admiral Lee as soon as possible.”

“Do you think that Admiral Lee knew he was alive?” You took out the first med-pod.

“No, Admiral Lee hates him as much as I do,” Kun said, staring ahead of him. “And the Admiral has never lied to me. When he can’t tell me something, he lets me know.”

“Do you think you’ll be going after him? Dr. Yoon?”

Click.

“I’ll need further directions from the Admiral.” He ran a hand through his hair. “If we don’t have any leads, he’ll probably just have us focus on our original mission.”

“And what is the mission?”

“Well…”

“I’m part of the crew now, kind of. Indefinitely. Shouldn’t I get to know what your mission that you’re on actually is?”

“No, you’re right. I’m trying to find the best starting place,” he mused. “So, the Intergalactic War ended almost a year ago.”

“Yes, I did know that,” you informed him, carefully picking through your memory. “It was the United Human Intercosmic Territories against Ourogos, the K’llor, and some factions of A-Jregth.”

You used the proper name for the A-Jregth, as opposed to the common, less-than-flattering human nickname for them—Dumbo, for their large ears that reminded the first UHN soldiers to make contact with them of elephants. In that moment, you couldn’t recall the original connection between the name and the Earth animal, but that could wait.

“Well, UHIT is much less united now; we’ve got a lot on our plate trying to keep ourselves together. Especially with some planets of Phasers and other human-originated species talking about wanting independence from humans.”

“On the grounds that they’re not humans?” You guessed.

“Exactly. There’s rumors of talks of secession.” The med-pod clicked then, and he paused as you grabbed the next one. Once you had them swapped out, he continued, “The aliens’ alliance has completely dissolved, however. Before we came here, we were on Ourogos; it’s especially nasty there. They’re almost in a civil war, trapped between two zealots vying for power ever since their leader, Busr Gorkourontorous, was assassinated. The Fisheads and Dumbo went back to their own business, and the Skippers are doing what they’ve always done.”

“You don’t sound too troubled about any of that.”

“The more time they spend killing each other, the more time we have to figure our own shit out.”

Moving your gaze from the med-pod to his face, you asked, “When did the busr die?”

“Recently,” he replied knowingly.

“Did one of you…?”

“We didn’t pull the trigger,” Kun said. “But we supplied the gun. And the bullet.”

“Arms dealing. To both sides?”

“The more of them that are dead, the fewer there will be to come kill humans.” He finally looked back at you. “That’s our mission. Less dead humans.”

“Do you think you’re accomplishing that?” You held his eye contact, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knee and prop up your chin with one of your palms.

“That’s not my determination to make right now. Not yet.”

“You’re a self-contained vessel. That comes with quite a bit of leeway with decision-making, doesn’t it?”

“Day-to-day decisions, yes. Admiral Lee has put a lot of trust in me. But every one of my calls is supposed to be made with that objective in mind.”

The second med-pod finished, and you took it off him as well, setting it at your feet with the rest of the trash that you’d take with you to put in Dejun’s medical disposal container in your tent. For once, neither of you made a move to leave now that it was done.

“How did you end up on Aegeum?” You asked.

“Intelligence guy picked up chatter from some Skippers. He didn’t speak Skipper, but he could make out one word they kept saying over and over that sounded like human. You know Skipper, it sounds like a bunch of chipmunks chittering about, so the word ‘Aegeum’ kind of caught his attention. Relayed it back to Admiral Lee. He sent us out here.”

“Do you have the recording of the Skippers? The Professor or ZEN…?”

“UHN translators have been working on it since we’ve been down here. It might be done, I’ll have to check once we’re back on the Vision.”

“Kind of makes me think…” You mused aloud. “About what would’ve happened if you all hadn’t found me. If I would’ve ever gotten out of that shelter.”

“I know you don’t remember how you got in there, but… what do you think you would’ve done? If you’d left the shelter, you’d have been able to survive off the ag bubble indefinitely, at least.”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, messing with your fingers. “I-I didn’t know, or didn’t remember, what was going on outside of the shelter other than the smell, but I had this feeling that I shouldn’t leave it, and I shouldn’t be found, you know? But when I saw you and Kunhang, and I knew you were UHN—I knew that the UHN was safe, at least. So… I really don’t know if I would’ve ever left.”

You watched as he slowly started sitting back up, and he thankfully didn’t clutch his back, wince, or groan this time. The two med-pods seemed to be doing pretty well for him. But they were only a temporary fix.

“You’re going to get your tune-up at UHN Main, right?” You looked at him seriously. “You’ll give your report to Admiral Lee, the crew will go on shore leave, and you’ll get your adjustment?”

“Yes, Y/N,” he confirmed with a hint of a smile. “I’ll get my adjustment while we’re there.”

“Good.”

“But then what excuse will you have for coming into my quarters every night?”

You landed a soft kick against his ankle at his teasing words, making him snicker. “You say that as if the crew know why I’ve been doing it in the first place. Other than Dejun, they have no clue. Who knows what they’re thinking now.”

“That’s true.” He still had a hint of a chuckle in his voice. “Speaking of… I have a spare bunk in my cabin on the Vision, you’re welcome to it. Or you can room with the Professor, if you’d like. I’m sure he’d enjoy the opportunity to ask you more about Outspacer.”

“Wait, if you both have spare bunks, then why is Dejun rooming with Yangyang, who talks in his sleep?” You cocked your head in bewilderment. “Why doesn’t he just stay with one of you so he isn’t disturbed by Yangyang’s sleeptalking?”

“Kid can’t sleep by himself. Apparently wasn’t a problem until he got onto a ship. We’ve offered for Xiao to move, but—” Kun shrugged.

“He’s a good teammate.” You then circled back to his original offer, bringing your hand up to tap your chin as if deep in thought. “I’ll have to think about it… Staying in the captain’s quarters, wouldn’t want anybody to get the wrong idea, you know?”

“Oh, of course not.”

“And I should probably be getting back to my tent,” you sighed melodramatically, slowly getting to your feet. “I’ve been in here for a suspicious amount of time already, don’t you think?”

“Hold on—ZEN? Where are the others?” Kun was still as he listened to ZEN’s response from within his neural port. “Great. Cut out your incoming audiovisual feed from me, but let me know when they start heading back, okay? Thanks.”

You tilted your head in a silent question.

“Everyone’s down at the river still,” he informed you, offering his hand out to you. “We have some time.”

“Mm… okay.” You placed your hand in his.

Kun scooted over to make some room beside him on the cot, and you accepted the invitation, sitting beside him instead of on the container like before.

“Are you ready? To leave?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah. I don’t really have a lot of personal effects to pack up, so…” You shrugged. “Though, I was curious about getting from the facility to your ship. Is the atmosphere breathable?”

“It’s a bit thin. Unfortunately, we weren’t expecting to acquire anybody while we were down here, so we don’t have an extra suit for you on the dropship. Xiao has masks with limited oxygen supply, you should be okay with one of those for the short walk on the surface.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“But I wasn’t asking you if you were packed,” he continued, rubbing a thumb over the back of your hand. “I mean, this is the only place you can remember. Are you ready to leave it?”

You nodded in determination. “I am. It’s unfortunate that we didn’t find the proof of concept or figure out why the Skippers were here, but I have no personal reservations about leaving. This isn’t my home.”

“Okay, good.”

“What are you going to say about me? In your report to the Admiral?”

“I’ll give him a brief update when we get back on the Vision tomorrow, before leaving. I’ll say we found a survivor, and we’re headed back to UHN Main so I can make a full report, but that’ll be it. I know you’ve only met his dumbed-down safety version, but ZEN’s a very good AI, he’ll keep the connection between the Admiral and I secure while I report.”

“This has been ZEN dumbed down?” You repeated with a smile. “I’m excited to meet him fully, then.”

“He’s something else,” Kun said with a shake of his head. “Like what I just had to do, asking him to butt out to get some privacy. ZEN at full capacity understands the concept of appropriate levels of snooping. This one, you have to give some clearer direction. He understands when we don’t need to hear each other—most of the time—but can’t turn off incoming audiovisual to himself of his own volition.”

“You must be used to his omnipresence on the Vision. His main nexus is there, I’m assuming he’s throughout the ship’s systems.”

“Well yes, but I don’t really care if he hears our talk around the mess table or sees me cleaning my armor. This… is different.”

“How so?”

“Well—”

“I’m kidding, Kun,” you laughed, bumping your shoulder against his. “I like knowing that we’re really alone, too. Makes it feel more… intimate, I think.”

“I agree.”

“There is one thing I’ll miss about Aegeum, though.”

“What’s that?”

“Those strawberries were really good.”

Kun’s eyes crinkled as he smiled fondly. “They were. Do you want to go get some?”

“Now?”

“Why not? One last handful, a midnight snack.”

“I do.”

And so the two of you quietly slipped out of his tent, hurrying off in the direction of the strawberry fields. You could hear the others by the river, though their voices and splashing got more distant the nearer you got to the fields. Finally, you made it to the strawberry patch, and the air of the ag bubble was peaceful around you.

There were small, hidden lights along the pathways and edges of the fields that automatically turned on at night, affording just enough brightness for you to be able to distinguish the fruits on the bushes as Kun went to pick them. He handed you the first one he grabbed, then bit into the second himself.

“Kun, you’ve got some on your face,” you pointed out, and he went to wipe at his right cheek. You shook your head with a giggle, bringing your own thumb up to his left cheek. “No, you— Here, I’ve got it.”

“Oh now that’s not fair,” he complained with an air of teasing in his tone.

“Why’s that?”

“You don’t have anything on your face, so I don’t have an excuse to charmingly cradle your cheek like you’re doing to me.”

“How about you do it anyway—” You took his free hand and brought it up to your face, “—and while we’re here, you can kiss me like you’ve been thinking about doing since the river today?”

“Am I easy to read or have you failed to mention that you’re a mind reader?”

“The first one,” you teased.

“All those years of intelligence operative training were wasted, apparently,” he chuckled.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

You met him halfway, closing the distance and melting into a kiss that tasted of the sweet-tart strawberry juice still on your lips. You took your hand from his face to tangle your fingers in the hair at the back of his head, definitely longer than regulation, and he continue pressing his lips to yours over and over, as if making up for every moment tonight that he had wanted to kiss you but didn’t. You lost track of how many strawberry sweet kisses the two of you exchanged between bites, conversation, hushed bursts of laughter, and even more strawberries. And you thought that if this was part of your normal, no matter how fleeting, you could be pretty happy with this.

⇢ next | series masterlist | blog masterlist

#kun x reader #wayv x reader #nct x reader #kun imagine #wayv imagine #nct imagine #kun #qian kun #wayv #nct #i: kun #f: frankenstein complex #fc: 2 #writing #text #mine #bias tag #kunkun

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gucciwins · 1 year ago

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i miss harry so much :(( could you write a little blurb for us to see what harry and y/n would be up to today? even if it’s only 300 words idc i just need some harry content🥹🫶

had no idea what I wanted to write or if you wanted to see a specific couple of mine but I do hope you enjoy this for now 🥺 love you

Autumn was his favorite season.

He loved the cold, always being bundled up in a jumper. Gave him even more of a reason to visit his favorite coffee shop. It didn’t hurt he also got to see Y/N, the pretty barista who always drew a flower by his name.

It’s actually where he was heading on this drizzly morning. He had finished his workout and thought he deserved a treat. To his surprise, Y/N wasn’t behind the counter waiting to greet him with a bright smile. Of course, he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up; he knows she has to get a day off.

Harry goes to the counter and orders a black americano to match his mood and chocolate croissant.

“Not big on flavor today?”

He turns around and finds Y/N looking up at him, having overhead his order. “Hi,” he greets in a fluttery breath. Y/N always recommended a drink, but it seemed he didn’t bother today. “Uh, I wasn’t sure what to get.”

Y/N laughs, “I’m sorry if that’s on me.”

Harry is quick to shake his head. “A bit in the clouds today. Didn’t want to think too hard.”

“Mhm…”

“Off today?” Harry asks, wanting to keep speaking with her.

“Yeah, I was in the neighborhood and wanted a coffee before continuing the day.”

Harry smiles, “where are you headed, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Y/N steps closer to him. “Oh, I’m headed to the park to do some reading. Nothing exciting.”

He’s intrigued, though. He wants to ask her what book she’s reading? What is her favorite genre? If she had one, she’d recommend for him. Before he could ask any of those questions, she excused herself to grab her coffee, and Harry thought that was it. He’d go back to admiring her from afar. In came a crowd of people, and he seemed to lose sight of her and instead decided to wait for his coffee and go from there for his day.

Harry looked around one more time in the buzzing cafe before walking out. He decided to turn right when he heard a yell of his name behind him.

It was Y/N.

She rushed over, her tote bag slipping off her shoulder. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

He shakes his head, assuring her it’s okay.

Y/N brushes her hair back, a sign telling him she’s nervous. “Well, I was wondering if you wanted to walk with me. Only if you’re free,” she adds.

Harry bites back his smile, knowing he might have never gained the courage to ask her out, but glad Y/N made the first move. “I’d love to join you.”

It’s how they find themselves walking to the park and settling onto a dry bench as the morning drizzle seems to have passed. Harry could listen to Y/N talk all day. He learns she has lunch with her parents every Sunday and has a baby tabby named Gus, after her favorite romance character. She shares that while she loves making coffee, it’s a means to an end while she gets through university. Y/N has a year left and knows time will fly by after the holidays. She tells him that she loves jackets and can never go without one. She can also be very forgetful, meaning she’s gone through her fair of keys to her flat. Y/N switched it up on asking him questions, but they always seemed to go back to her, not that she minded.

“Can I confess something?” Harry tells her after he returns from throwing away their coffee cups.

Y/N beams at him, “course, Harry.”

“Uh,” he thought it’d be easier to confess his feelings, but he felt his heart in his throat. “I think you’re amazing, and I’d love to take you on a date,” Harry breathes out.

Y/N feels her face flush at his confession. She places her hand on top of his and gives him a squeeze. “I’d love to go on a date. Though this felt like a date to me.”

Harry agrees but promises their second date will be even better. Y/N excuses herself after seeing the time after giving Harry her number.

“Don’t make me wait for a text, Harry.”

“Call you tonight? We can plan out our date.” He offers.

Y/N nods, “sounds perfect.”

She walks away but pauses a few steps away as if she is debating something because he can ask her if something’s wrong. Y/N walks back over to Harry and places her lips on his cheek. It was a short kiss, but he could feel her lips' softness. Y/N pulls back with a sheepish smile, laughing as she sees Harry’s face turn red.

“I’ll see you, Harry.”

“Bye, Y/N,” he breathed out, locked in a trance.

It’d seemed this Autumn would forever hold a special place in his heart.

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles story #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles one shot #harry style fic rec #harry fluff

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lloydssluts · 6 months ago

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Lloyd Hansen Writing Challenge

Welcome to the Lloyd Hansen Writing Challenge, hosted by the Lloyd Hansen server.

About 2 years ago, we got our first taste of Lloyd Hansen through Netflix’s trailers. From then on, we were hooked. To celebrate this anniversary, we invite writers to join our challenge and create their own Lloyd Hansen fics!

This challenge is 18+ ONLY. Minors are not allowed to engage in any way, shape, or form. It is open to everyone—not just members of our server, although we encourage you to join us if you haven’t already.

All fics will be about Lloyd Hansen. We do not allow incest (stepcest is permitted), underage, or scat play. Fics should be reader inserts* and as inclusive as possible. Any genre (dark, smut, angst, fluff) is allowed. *For any other specifications or adjustments, reach out to one of the mods or send an ask. This is not a strict requirement.

There is no word count requirement. However, you must use a “read more” break, no matter the length. Use appropriate warnings.

The deadline for the challenge is July 22nd, 2024. This is not a strict deadline at all!

You will choose a dialogue that the character has said in the film and transform it from the original context. Certain prompts are open to changing as long as you note that somewhere. Once you’ve chosen a prompt and sent us an ask with it, it will be crossed off from the list. Prompts are on a first-come, first-serve basis! You can select up to 5 prompts.

Need feedback or advice? Feel free to message either one of the mods (@hansensgirl or @cuttlefjsh), or visit our server to discuss your fic with other members.

TAG YOUR FICS WITH THE TAG #Lloyd Hansen Server WC24

Happy writing!

Asterisks + ‘[…]’ indicates a prompt is open for change.

Should we try again?

Boring.

“Mostly, it’s loss which teaches us about the worth of things.” That’s Arthur Schopenhauer. He was a German philosopher, a pessimist. He saw the value in suffering.

Damn it. Phones on silent when I’m working, please.

Still just flirting. But… [...] getting there. *

Well, no one goes to Harvard to play football.

I like to be the exception. What’s up?

Gimme a name.

Could be fun.

Well, I’m gonna need a full green light on this one. Open checkbook.

I’d rather you punch me in the dick.

We’ll find somebody [...] loves and squeeze. *

Have I ever done you wrong, [...]? *

Professionally maybe. Lloyd Hansen, Hansen Government Services.

Aw, does it? Good.

You know my work. That’ll make this next part a lot easier.

You know what makes me sad, [...]? *

Five and a half.

Who likes cats?

Let’s talk about the mess your [...] made. *

Oh, [...] made a big one. And judging by your shallow breathing and puckered asshole*, I can only assume you know why I’m here.

But see, that’s the beauty of the private sector. I don’t care about reasons.

My guess is you’re helping [...] already. So this shouldn’t put too much of a dent in your day. *

But your file, well, that’s chock-full of nuggets, some of which might make you rethink your fussy attitude.

You gonna answer it?

Hey, sunshine. Lloyd Hansen here. I’m the one running this op.

The one where I get exactly what I want.

Okay, that’s fair. Well, why don’t you come on in, and we can chat? My assistant will get lunch. You like sushi?

Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page.

Looks like you need a new phone.

Don’t say “preternatural” to me. It’s an asshole word.

And that, [...], is exactly what bad ethics and zero impulse control will get you. *

I can kill anybody.

Well, we’ll see.

We need to ground in *Vienna.

How do you feel about your license?

Who’s up for some *Tafelspitz?

Hey, sunshine.

What gave it away?

Ballsy.

Nice try, pumpkin.

What size shoe are you?

Can someone get me a Vicodin, please?

On the run, scared shit less.

You know all those rules you guys are always trying to work your way around? They don’t mean dick to me.

Shut up and go sit in the corner.

Oh. How about that?

Forget about the Vicodin.

That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.

Goldilocks, would you be a lamb and excuse us?

Shhh. Please.

Now, whatever I just did to your *ears, it’s not even torture. I just made it up on the spot. Just came to me. And that’s how this is gonna go.

Should we try again?

Maybe we should get the *girl back in here.

Well, that was unexpected.

Make him dead.

My God, how hard is it to shoot somebody?

What I do can’t be taught.

You know what I love about you?

Yahtzee.

No, success qualifies as success.

You wanna make an omelette, you gotta *kill some people.

You know, in English, we call this a *happy ending. However, if you say one more word, you may not see it that way.

Lock everything down.

Get me eyes on the bridge.

You’re making me destroy a historic building here!

Wait! Please don’t shoot! Look what you did to my hand.

Give me that, you little shit.

Now you pick those feet up, or you’re gonna get dead real quick.

Now, listen. You shut up, and you don’t move.

Now, I’m gonna stop you right there, cupcake.

What do you say we wrap this up?

I mean, I’m having a blast, but it’s way past the kid’s bedtime, don’t you think?

You’re gonna throw me that gun, or the little one gets a new face. *

It’s really a shame this isn’t gonna work out between us.

Now normally, at this point in the night, I wouldn’t be sticking around.

With the house lights about to come on, I’d find a desperate, ugly chick to lick my wounds and split, but you have been a pebble in my shoe since the very beginning.

And now I just don’t think I can walk away.

Guess what I’m thinking right now.

I think I’m better than you.

Still getting used to it.

Let’s see if these moves fuck.

#lloyd hansen server #Lloyd Hansen Server WC24 #writing challenge #lloyd hansen #the gray man #chris evans #x reader #creator challenge #writing prompt

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shona22 · 2 months ago

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Sterek fic rec: October edition (2024) 🐺 ⚓

Each month, I'll be sharing some of my favorite fics (and I'll make sure to backup and download them for safekeeping). Please note that I have a soft spot for darker themes, so warnings and tags will be plentiful - reader discretion advised!

Want specific recs? Feel free to send me an ask with your preferred tropes or genres, and I'll do my best to find some from my bookmarks.

Pay by the hour, but don't leave so soon by JettieBettie

"This is the last time," he tells her, heading toward the door.

"That’s what you always say. But I end up wearing his face for you again and again.”

Note: an incredibly hot pwp. I won't spoil much, but it does have an amazing Stiles voice regardless of being so short.

___

Step towards me, step away by Areiton

The truth is, he’s been more than a little bit in love with Derek Hale for a long time.

Note: A compelling exploration of an unconventional relationship. Complex characters, angst, and favourite tropes (Derek angsting over age gap, Kate comparisons) lead to a satisfying ending. Worth the read!

___

I found you hidden in plain sight (why'd I take so long?) by Gorgeousgreymatter

Stiles is pretty sure he’s hallucinating. He’s got to be. There’s no other plausible explanation, he thinks, as he sits on the sidelines of the lacrosse field and feels the cold, hard bench underneath him, the roar of the crowd at his back like the worst white noise machine in the world.

There’s no other reason why he sees it, the hulking, black figure of a wolf peering at him from the treeline behind the bleachers. Its eyes flare in the glaring glow of the stadium lights, but they’re the wrong color, he thinks: blood-moon red instead of cobalt blue, but the familiarity of it all makes his stomach roll and clench.

Note: Gods. Another one my favourite trope, where Derek gets his alpha spark back because of Stiles. The line, the one which had me gnawing my pillow at 3AM:

“Jesus, Stiles. You never stopped being mine, did you?”

___

Somebody that I used to know by Percybyssheshelly

Stiles and Derek have been together for months.

The trouble is, they weren't yesterday.

Note: short, but packs a punch. If you're having a bad day and want some relatively short angst with happy ending fics, this one's for you.

___

We live (not as we wish to) as we can by Endrversed

“I’m not a closet case,” Derek repeats, teeth gritted.

“Oh, yeah?” Stiles taunts, daring Derek with his eyes. “You coulda fooled me.”

“I’m not – gay.”

Derek spits that word out. Stiles snorts, no humour in it.

“Sure. You’re totally straight, dude. You just get all up in my personal space every time we’re alone. Stare at my lips any time you think no one’s looking. Well, I’m looking, Derek, and I know what you want. I know what you really want is to bend me over and fuck me.”

Derek is a closeted frat boy, and Stiles gets under his skin. Enemies to fuckbuds to <3

Note: Heed the tags. After DBC, I've been craving closeted frat boy Derek with the perfect Stiles voice. This one delivers. Endversed's mastery seals the deal.

___

UST (an unfortunate series of tropes)

Stiles and Derek sitting in a tree, M-A-R-R-I-E-D.

Wait, what?

Or: Stiles thought he and Derek were finally getting to be bros, and then Deaton had to go and ruin everything with his stupid spell.

Note: Amazing Stiles voice + mature Derek. Re-read worthy! Accidental soul bonding and more - my ultimate tropes. 10/10, left craving more.

___

Stronger in numbers by bloodwrites

Stiles doesn't want to be the Alpha's mate, he doesn't want to be locked up for his own protection, and he's damn sure he doesn't want to be dealing with blood and werewolf parts on a weekly basis, but somehow that's what his life has become.

That's not going to change, unless he can convince Derek to trust Scott and the hunters, because it's the only way they're going to chase the Alpha Pack out of town.

Of course, that only solves two out of three.

Note: please heed ALL the tags. Also, remember, Derek’s somewhat of a certified jerk in this. And yet, somehow, that's the fic’s appeal. It honestly has the feels of a classic 2010-2014 fics, and that makes me eat it up even more. Also, it's HOT.

___

Werewolf love songs, vol 1 by aggybird.

Peter decides to use the power of Barry Manilow's music to make Stiles and Derek fall in love.

Meanwhile, there are monsters and stuff, and Stiles and Derek are stupid.

Note: amazing fic very close to my heart. I love meddling uncle Peter, and the gradual progression of their relationship. It's also such a classic early sterek fic, and like the other ones, I'm always starving for it. It's funny and incredible with Stiles’ voice.

___

Rapture, sweet rapture (won't you put your hands on me) by queerly_it_is

Somewhere in the stringy mesh of his overactive brain cells, Stiles is sure there must be memories of what it was like to not have a totally possessive creeper with a leather fixation for an adopted brother.

Note: please heed the warnings. It's pseudo-incest!

#sterek #sterek fic rec #sterek fic

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sakkiichi · 1 year ago

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BABY BLUE.

“Tell me you will live through this and I will die for you.”

You can imagine any of your favorite characters for this, but I was specifically thinking of Scaramouche/Wanderer, Albedo, Xiao, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Kaeya x fem! reader.

genre/cw: very soft spice, angst to comfort, fluff, some slight aftercare.

word count: 1.4 k.

To someone I cherish, this is for you. If you ever see it, I hope it brings you some semblance of comfort on nights that feel lonely. Even if I’m asleep, I’m on the other side of the screen, dearest 🩵

The rain falls.

Your palm rests against the cold window glass, drops splattered on the other side.

Raindrops.

Looking up at them, you could feel like flying to the grey heavens; you always liked the weather better when it was gloomy.

Shades of light blue seem contained in the still free falling rain, before it shatters against the dull concrete.

You could relate to that, one amongst millions, forgotten afterwards.

Only so many loved to splash in muddy puddles, after all.

With a sigh, you pull away from the blurry glass, the imprint of your hand outlined against the indigo hues of the approaching night.

Is that all the world will have to remember you by?

Are you really that… ephemeral? Impermanent?

Unimportant? Is the word that lodges into your heart, freezing it, each beat painting in dark blue your lips that used to smile, the fingers that used to caress him, so lovingly.

Wrapping your soft blue blanket around your form, you step towards your room’s balcony, the curtains an eerie muted cyan in the dim light. Knuckles white, you pull the crystal doors open, frigid rain almost piercing when it touches your skin.

And yet, it feels peaceful, it feels good.

Perhaps you just missed hurting in ways that were not emotional, and maybe the cold drops in the night provided that.

“I knew you’d be here.” A familiar voice pulls you out of your daze.

Startled, you turn around. Your hands tremble around you, your rumpled up blanket falling off your shoulder, your yellow sweater akin to a blue sun, the water splatters over it, storm clouds. Your hair is plastered against your face, its vibrant shade, ashen in the faint moonlight through decaying skies.

Sighing, his hand wraps softly around yours.

Warm. Loving.

Not his usual chill; not his dominant or fearing for you hold; not his usual teasing; not his trembling hold in twilights when he begged you to please not go.

Permanent. Grounding.

Your lover pulls you into him, under the awning, freezing cobalt bleeding into smaller sapphires when it hits the canvas.

He doesn’t care how you’re dampening his clothes, his hair, arctic hues spreading like watercolors to his core.

Carefully, he guides you inside, the warmth of your room welcome to your shivering form.

The wet blanket is lifted from you, hung on a low chair before the balcony’s doors, the dripping water pooling in a mirrored image of the half concealed moon.

Your partner’s arms hook under your legs, cradling you close, walking towards the bed.

He lays down by your side, svelte hands slipping your ochre sweater off of you. His hands caress your hips, the skin right above your black pants, and the skin under, when slightly calloused fingers slip beneath the turquoise silk of your underwear.

His own shirt meets the same fate as your discarded sweater, both yours and his trousers following after.

Scarred hands travel up and down your sides, his gem-like eyes reflected in your dilated pupils.

Tears shine like colorless emeralds in your lash line.

You want him. You need him. So bad.

But do you deserve him?

As if he was the only one privy to your thoughts, your lover’s hand laces with yours.

His gaze is comfortably piercing, completely set on your pretty face.

A gentle squeeze, before his hand slips delicately under your sports bra, unclasping it, alice blue fabric slipping off your frame.

“Beautiful.” He breathes, his stare dilating, his hands fondling with your breasts, gently pinching your nipples. He relishes in the little moans you let out.

Even if he never liked to see you cry, you were still perfect with teal eyeshadow running down your cheeks.

“My love…” you utter, a choked out sound. You want him to go on, but you want him to find better than you too.

And yet, he doesn’t think there’s anyone better, not here, not on any of the seven nations, not in another world.

“What is it, my bunny?” He whispers, kissing down your jawline, your neck, your collarbones.

You let out a shaky sigh.

“Are you sure? That I’m the one you want to do this with?” You ask, not meeting his gaze, head lowered.

“My dearest, look at me.” His tone is mellow when he takes your chin in between his fingers, gaze haloed in night and starlight, magnetized by you. “You’re the only one I want this with, the only one I’ll ever want. Do you understand?” The shadow of a smirk crosses his perfectly sculpted features when his lips brush the shell of your ear, feeling your frame shiver at his every touch.

All you can do is nod, throbbing and wetness starting to pool in your core, shades of pink and amber merging into the blue lighting of the night when his fingers brush your hipbone.

Skilled digits prod at your needy nub, thumb circling it, pearlescent juices leaking out of you.

You were always so perfect, and right now, you’re ethereal.

Reflected moonlight paints your skin azure, the city lights fiery against your hair, splayed out around the pillows.

Lips that have smiled, smirked, bitten and brought you endless pleasure envelop yours, his tongue swirling over the rosé of your parted mouth, asking for an entrance that was and would forever remain his.

His hardened tip teases your hole, as his arms wrap around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer, two colliding meteors, so bright, the sun would never need to rise again.

He enters you, in a melody of skin against skin and moans of yours and his name mingling in a million colors in the dark.

You can feel him. Deeply. Every vein and drag of his length spreading you out, taking you higher with every kiss of his tip on your sweet spot, to a vantage point from where you can see the skies end.

“I love you…” your boyfriend groans, pushing deeper inside you, one of his hands intertwining fingers with yours, the other, firm on your hip. “I love you, my darling… I’ll repeat it until you believe it… you feel so good, archons, you’re perfect.”

With one last forceful thrust, you feel your walls clamp around him, ribbons in a myriad of bright lights you only see after the nebula you and him create, painting your walls in every little detail that constitutes him and all the sheer adoration he holds for you.

Perhaps he once was a fallen god, now wandering in search of his own identity; or a broken angel, casting everyone in light, except for himself, donning a mask, kept in the shadows; maybe he is a crafted alchemist, still wondering about what it means to be alive; he could have been a silent scribe, caring more than his hardened stare let on, always peering from behind a book or another; at times you swore he was an artist, the architect that designed your very soul. Or maybe you’ve dreamed of him as a suave knight, his heart concealed behind a wall of spiky ice.

But what never changed is that his heart was always yours, in every version of the world, in every chapter of the story you still write, in the hours you dream away.

And so, you let go.

Liquid starlight coats him in your burning desire, as his nails dig into your skin, claw-like marks in his wake.

You’re a star, him, the moon, or the sun, that will forever orbit around the shine you don’t always see. Together, you meet the zenith of more than just entangled bodies, his lips descending upon yours once again tonight, feather-like this time.

With breaths mixed and labored, he pulls out, his arms not letting go, never letting go, for the gravity of you will forever tie him to your heart; even if his is hollow, icy, corrupted, or hard and gold, the threads of your sweetness are all he needs to feel alive.

Gently, your lover pulls the covers snug around you.

Summer sky blue, he sewed them himself. Or was it just his design? You can’t recall, but they are coated in him, his scent, his goodnight kisses.

Tender fingertips brush sweaty strands of hair away from your face. ‘So that I dream of you’, are his unspoken words, before his eyes close and his lips meet the tip of your nose.

In his arms, your lashes flutter closed too, in tandem with his.

Will you find wine and warm light on the other side? Lanterns to guide your night? Perhaps vast expanses of greenery with paths to find yourself and libraries to lose yourself in. Whatever the case, you hope for clear skies.

When dawn approaches, the baby blue of your now dry blanket matches the heart shaped rays expanding in the horizon.

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anonymouse5 · 2 months ago

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tips for writers block bc I need them:

~ go back and re-read what you’ve written

you might find spots that are keeping you stuck/scenes you need to scrap

~ work on a different wip/start a new wip

you might just need a break from this one & the other might give you inspo, esp if it’s similar genre/characters/etc.

these are motivation boosters/ways to get inspiration:

~ make a pinterest board or playlist (if you already have one, add to it)

~ daydream about scenes/characters

~ read something in the same form as what you’re writing, try to analyze why certain scenes work or certain characters draw you in

more random tips:

~ brainstorm random scenes that could happen in your story

if you can’t use it for this one, save it for something else!

then you can look back to these scraps later and see if you want to include them when you have writers block later

~ write a different scene

if you haven’t gotten to the scene you’re most excited to write, write that one.

if your brain is weird like mine and won’t let you write out of order, write it in a separate document/notebook depending on whether you type or write out your stories.

if you have a specific brainstorming notebook, write the scene in that. find what works for you!

~ try a sprint

try to just free write for 1 min, 5 min, 15 min. whatever you feel that you can. even 30 seconds. this might help you get into the flow. if it doesn’t, at least you wrote something. progress is good!

you can try different writing websites that make writing a game or force you to write or it will delete your work (this stresses me out so I don’t do this)

~ reread a different work of yours

try to reread something you’re proud of. this could be a confidence boost!

~ use a prompt

this can be a picture, a painting, a song, something you read (quote, poem, story, etc) or any other form of art. it can literally be anything. prompts will get you started.

~ try to remove doubts/become calm

sometimes writing becomes hard because we’re not fully confident in our writing. it happens. just remind yourself that it takes time to get good and even great writers get imposter syndrome, writers block, etc.

chill and see where your writing journey takes you. this applies to all aspects of life btw.

~ write about your writers block

this might be dumb, but it might be a great relatable poem? again, getting words on the page is good. quantity over quality for now. we can work on the quality once we get into the flow, y’know?

~ go back to square one

if you’re a plotter, go back to plotting. flesh out some of those vague ideas. add to your character sheets. think about the mood you want to create. tweak your mood board. etc. idk i only plot sometimes.

okay! happy writing. lmk if you want more tips <3

#writing inspo #writer problems #writers block #female writers #creative writing #writers #writing #writers on tumblr #writer stuff #writblr #writers and poets #writeblr #writerscommunity #writer things #fanfic writing #ao3 writer

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haechanhues · 4 months ago

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last minute of golden hour; yours | chapter three

pairing : first love! haechan x fem!reader

genre : small coastal town romance. first love. fluff. pining. suggestive. angst.

warnings : short and more of a filler chapter. haechan does make a little appearance but this chapter is more of an insight in their family dynamic.

summary : is first love meant to be the way it is for the town's golden boy and everybody's baby angel?

word count : 1.3k

taglist : @nshitae

main masterlist

previous chapter : chapter two

It was a brand new day, and it had already started with sunrise. Your Mum, specifically. It was her annual, once in a full moon day off and she was celebrating it the way she always did. Initially, undoubtedly with a good mood.

This good mood however was mostly at your own expense…

“Mum, stop already!” You plead, trying to squeeze in between her too excited demeanour and hard kitchen bench.

“Oh c’mon, give me the goss. I've been waiting for a free day for weeks,” She pleads back, twirling in her dressing gown and pyjamas. Granted, she is the happiest she’s been in a few months, sleeping in an extra two hours and making herself breakfast, “I feel like I need gossip to function right now. So make it good.”

“I told you already,” You rolled your eyes, as your Mum bends to fill the dishwasher up with your Dad’s dirty dishes, “He told me to meet up with him, I did and it went alright. A bit awkward and I was nervous but…yeah”

Your Mum looks from her chore to see you duck your head with a lovestruck little smile that completely overtakes your whole face.

“More than alright it seems, he has you in googles and googly-ga-gaa over him,” She snorts, “Wanna watch a movie with me? I’m going to be all alone and I want to spend it with my daughter.”

A part of you wants to groan, because this is when your mother wants to steal all the details over your failed little flirtation with Haechan and the other half realises she’s just offered you a way out of a mock exam….

The same part knows your mother has moments like this where she forgets you’re a school student and if you cared more about attendance like Yunjin you wouldn’t accept any offer she makes. Wouldn’t even consider it. But you’re not Yunjin, because you slid right next to your mother to see what movie she chose with your school uniform still on.

You figure it’s everything to do with the fact you don’t get to see your parents much. Your mother usually works late nights with her rest to work ratio being completely imbalanced. Coming home with a stiff neck and low tolerance for children and the like. Your father, similarly, is working hard towards a promotion at work that will end in his salary potentially being tripled. You worry that the wind will change and he’ll be stuck with a hunched neck from working business.

Despite this, they maintain their duties to being your parent. Your Dad often taking you out on weekends or roping you into an evening trip to a takeaway shop more than an hour away to sneak in bonding time. Mum in comparison using her sick days or break opportunities to relax and unwind, you more often than not, by her side.

By the time the sequel to ‘Bridget Jones’ Diary’ begins, you leave to change out of your school uniform, opting for a more comfortable fit and sending a quick text to the group chat explaining your absence.

“Shall I make pancakes?” Your Mum wonders, feeling peckish and with sugar cravings that could make a diabetic faint. You nod, incredibly entranced, “Can I get a thank you?”

You lock eyes with your mother, smiling with teeth before refocusing on the movie and the awkward yet lovable main character, “Thanks. Love you.”

Your Mum sighs, whipping the mixture half asleep and buttering the pan. She pulls out her phone to send your Dad evidence of the simplistic yet precious lunch she plates, her creative juices sparking when she brings out all sorts of toppings. She cuts the bananas, fills the little teapot with maple syrup and then halves a lemon. She does it all.

Feeling less entertained by the movie currently, you watch as your Mum plates up the pancakes, smirking at the way your Mum presents it all on a little lazy susan. Feeling a little mischievous you send your Dad a text with a photo of the two of you and the small picnic in between.

Your Dad texts almost immediately.

Betrayal! My lawyers will be hearing about this-

You can hear your Dad’s voice just from reading the text and it makes you snort so loudly your mother almost has a heart attack.

Just kidding. Really am jealous though. Will be home late today x hope SOMEONE enjoys their day off.

Hang on

Aren’t you supposed to be at school today?

Your mouth fills with air as your lips clamp shut at the incriminating question before turning your phone facedown on the bench immediately.

“Dad says he’s jealous,” You comment, cutting through your first pancake greedily.

“He should be, I did good,” Your Mum compliments herself, and then she giggles at the way you send her a lowkey judgemental look, “Say if you had to choose between Donghyuck or pancakes what would you pick?”

You roll your eyes, collecting your plate off the bench before moving towards the paused TV to continue watching the movie. Your mother’s spurts of laughter follow after you.

“Ha ha,” You deadpan, which sends her into another fit of laughter, a kind she tries to bury only for her cheeks to swell like a balloon as she fails to contain her giggles.

The whole day is spent like that. With food to share between the two of you. Your bodies flying like feathers as past days evaporate into the sky. Laughter and teasing. More teasing. Teasing about your crush on the golden boy, Lee Donghyuck. Sporting hero. Your town’s pride. The one going places.

You almost combust when the aforementioned boy appears on your doorstep with a small care package that took him a good hour to orchestrate together, along with your two friends who already suspect that you ditched school for a reason that’s not illness but rather because your Mum was home.

They don’t have the heart to say anything to him though. Ultimately deciding to encourage him instead. If he has already gone to such lengths, he wouldn’t mind the effort? So they exaggerate. Jeno is sure that they described the symptoms of bubonic plague, but he decides to keep that tidbit of information a secret.

It’s when you open the door, with a healthy glow and no hives in sight, does he start to feel like an idiot. A godforsaken big idiot.

“Oh,” He mutters, holding out the bag awkwardly, “I got you a care package… I thought you were sick?”

Your nose scrunches, and if you weren’t so embarrassed yourself, you wouldn’t have let how cute he is go.

“I’m not sick,” You deny, tucking your hair behind your ear, “My Mum’s home from work so I’m spending the day with her.”

“Lucky,” He mutters, “We had a test today.”

“I know,” You whisper conspiratorially back. Your smile grows as he looks at you with a dumbfounded look.

“And you didn’t think to invite me? Huh?” He’s joking with you, expression bright and soft.

“Next time, I promise, I will,” You pout, holding out your hand. He holds out his own hand to loop your pinky finger with his, and from his touch alone your whole body is warm. Be it your own opinion, but you can attest that Haechan is blessed with the sun’s kiss so much that he has never been cold a day in his life. He’s like a furnace.

He peers down at his phone, reading the time before locking eyes with you again, “I’ve got to go to training now.”

You don’t want him to go, and by his expression it doesn’t look like he wants to leave either.

“Hope you’re ‘feeling better’ tomorrow,” He sends his regards with his hands shaped like bunny ears and he smiles when you reward him with your own.

“Should be.”

“Cool.”

Then he’s off and again, you’re completely blown away with him. His smile. His laugh. His warmth. His fucking face.

“What’s this I hear about test day?”

Shit.

next chapter : chapter four

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amethystarachnid · 2 months ago

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BABY LIGHTNING

⤷ THOR ODINSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Thor Odinson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, angst, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5k

ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of sex (that’s how babies are made lol), a little himbo Thor, bad nordic mythology I’m sorry,

ᯓ★ Request: Thor & Secret Baby where Thor doesn’t know until a friend of his tells him and wants to be a part of their lives. ( @rihannabale )

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ If you are a Charles Xavier lover click on this link!

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language, feel free to correct me kindly please

You can remember the first time you two met vividly: it happened when the Avengers were formed, you saw him stand next to Fury while you were sitting at your desk, doing your boring job behind a computer.

He was, literally, a God so you didn’t even bother to think that he was going to notice you, but he did.

Your eyes met for the first time and you fell in love with those blue eyes almost instantly, how stupid of you! You are an adult, you shouldn’t fall in love at first sight with a God.

“Who’s that?” Thor asks Fury, his head nodding towards you and you quickly look away.

“Oh that’s Y/N Y/L/N…Anyway…” Fury leads Thor on the other side of the room and it doesn’t really surprise you, instead, you’re surprised that Fury remembers your name.

When your shifts ends you enter the elevator with a tired sigh and as the door close you hear a voice asking you to stop them.

As the doors reopened you see Thor standing just behind them with an awkward smile, “Sorry, I don’t really understand how these things work…” He chuckles and enters the elevator, making you feel small suddenly, and it isn’t just because he’s a God but because he is big, in every direction.

“I-It’s not a problem…” You stutter, then look at him confused when he doesn’t push any button, “Which floor are you headed to?” You ask politely, not knowing how to properly refer to a God.

“Oh I’m leaving.” He simply says.

“Then you need to push the floor zero.” You explain as you push the button.

“Where are you going?” He asks, glancing at the buttons, “Inside Midgard?” You hold back a chuckle at his confused expression when he notices that you are headed to the floor -1.

“It’s the underground parking lot, I have my car there.” You smile, glancing at the screen that tells you which floor you’re currently on: 12 and after a few seconds it becomes 11.

“You humans created a lot of things, they’re cool.” Thor looks around.

You simply smile, not knowing how to answer that.

“So you uh…Work here? With the strange machine?” He asks awkwardly.

You feel your cheeks heat up, “The computer, yes, but it’s a boring job really…Saving the world must be more satisfying.”

“It is, helping people makes you feel good.” He smiles at you and you find yourself thinking how can a man that big and menacingly looking be such a soft and gentle person?

A few more moments pass in silence, as you try to steal glances at him, in doing that you find him doing the same.

“A friend told me that here on Earth when you like a girl you need to ask her on a date…” Thor starts when the elevator is at the fourth floor. “So, forgive me if I’m too straight forward, but would you like to go on a date with me?”

Your eyes widen at his words, a God is asking you out? Thor, God of Thunder, is asking you out?

“Yes!” You immediately, even though it probably makes you sound impatient. You couldn’t care less.

After that everything started moving forward quickly, super quickly.

In a month you have you have gone on more than 20 dates and you have lost count of all the sex you two had.

At first he stayed at the Stark Tower when he was on Earth but soon your apartment became his too.

You had never moved so quickly with a man, you have always been careful, but with Thor everything came naturally.

In a month you were completely in love with him and he seemed in love with you too, always bringing you flowers and jewels from Asgard.

“Why don’t you come and live at Asgard with me?” He suddenly asks one night, with you cuddled up by his side after yet another incredible night together.

“On Asgard? But I know nothing about it.” You answer, moving your fingertips over his toned torso.

“I will teach you everything you need to know.” He says, kissing the top of your head. “Sooner or later I’ll be King…And I want you to be my Queen.”

At his words you look at him shocked, “Me? A human becoming the Queen of Asgard, your people would hate me.”

“They will not.” He cups your cheek in his hand, caressing the soft skin with his thumb, “They don’t choose their Queen, I do, and I choose you.”

“Thor that’s…You’re asking me a lot.” You look away, the rational part of you is screaming at you that even just thinking about that is stupid.

But the bigger part of you, the once filled only with love for him, is telling you to screw everything and go with him.

“I know, but I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He smiles gently at you, “Be my Queen, Y/N, let me be your King.”

You look into his eyes and the only thing you see is pure adoration for you.

“Okay, I’ll come to Asgard.” You smile and he kisses your lips gently.

“I’ll make you the most loved and worshipped Queen Asgard has ever seen.” He lays you down on the bed while peppering your face with soft kisses.

“Thor we just stopped.” You chuckle.

“But we should celebrate, don’t you think?” He kisses your neck, “I have one last mission to go on, after that I’ll come to you and bring you to Asgard, my Queen.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

Three days later Thor leaves you to go on a mission to save the world, fighting who knows what type of aliens and bad people.

A week after he still hasn’t returned, but you know that missions can be unpredictable so you don’t worry too much.

You patiently wait for him to come home so you can show him the positive pregnancy test, you chuckle when you think about how confused he will be at first.

Another week pass, then another.

Then it’s a month.

Then another.

Soon your belly is too swollen to hide, you go in maternity leave, focusing on taking care of the little girl in your belly.

You have lost all hope that Thor would come back, he probably knew this since that night.

He knew he was going to leave you, you’re sure of it.

So now you have a baby girl to raise alone, sure, you thought about abortion but you simply couldn’t.

You loved Thor even though he probably didn’t love you back, and the little girl was a part of him too.

That’s why you named her Andora, according to Google it meant Thor’s Eagle.

That’s why you always read her stories about the Nordic Mythology, you wanted her to know her father even though he didn’t know about her.

What you didn’t expect was for her to have powers, you should’ve expected that — her father could control lighting after all.

Having a newborn who can control water but doesn’t know how to control it is a mess.

But you may know who can help you.

Two years later

“Stark! My friend, how have you been?” Thor asks as he enters the living room of the Stark Tower, where Tony is sitting, drinking whiskey.

“Look who shows his face around from time to time!” Tony chuckles, glancing up and down at Thor.

“How long has it been since I came here? One year and half I believe.”

“Yeah, while you were out on the galaxy we fought aliens again, why didn’t you come back? We could’ve used some help.”

“I came back…Like a year and a half ago, I went to see Fury, we had a little chat and…I didn’t find any other reason to come back after that.” Thor looks away.

“What do you mean?” Tony walks towards him confused.

“He told me that Y/N died during the alien attack.” Tony chokes on his whiskey as he looks at him, “She was the love of my life, why should I protect a planet that doesn’t have her in it?”

“Thor.” Tony places and hand on Thor’s shoulder, “Y/N is alive and well.”

“Don’t joke on this, Tony.” Thor brushes his hand off.

“I’m not joking, listen.” Tony places the glass on the table “I don’t know why Fury lied to you but Y/N is alive and living on the floor just above us.”

“What?”

“Two years ago she came to me asking for help with her daughter, who could control water.”

“Daughter?” Thor’s head is spinning.

“That little girl is the spitting image of you, man, if I were Y/N I’d sue you and the baby girl.” Tony shakes his head, but before he can add anything else Thor is already running on the upper floor.

Why did Fury lie to him? Why didn't you search for him?

He knock on the door of one of the apartments on the floor.

"Coming!" Oh, your voice is the same sweet melody he remembers. He hears giggles from behind the door and then you open the door.

Your smile immediately fades as you see the man standing right outside your door.

You knew that living in the Stark Tower meant that you were going to meet him sooner or later but it's been one year and half since you moved here and he never showed up.

"Oh, Y/N you are as beautiful as I the day I last saw you, you haven't aged a bit." He looks at you with a smile, sure, your body has changed a little - you gained some weight because of the pregnancy - but you're still the woman he loves.

He tries to wrap his arms around you and hug you but you push him away.

"What do you think you're doing?" You ask, your hands on his pecks as you push him away. "You disappeared for two years now you suddenly come back and act all friendly?"

"Y/N, my love, I'm so sorry but I did come back! Fury told me you were killed in the alien attack." He looks at you with his sad puppy eyes, the same eyes you loved.

The same eyes as your daughter's.

"Why would he tell you that?" You ask skeptical.

"I don't know, but believe me when I tell you I was completely destroyed by that." He takes your hands in his, "So I decided to never come back on Midgard because you were the only reason I kept coming back...If only I knew that you were alive and carrying my daughter I would've never, ever, left." He gently kisses the back of your hand.

"Who told you about her?" You ask, not having the heart to move your hand away from his hold.

"Tony did, five minutes ago." Thor glances behind you, "Can I see her?"

You look at his waiting eyes, trying to decide whether you should let him meet Andora or not.

But from the look in his eyes you can tell that he already loves her, you nod and move to make him enter.

"Andora! Come here, baby." You gently call for her, you can see Thor's eyes widening more as he hear the name.

"You called her Andora?" He repeats in a whisper, "Does...Does she know who I am?"

You nod, "I told her stories about you and told her that her daddy was on a long mission saving the galaxy but that he would come back eventually...I didn't know if you'd actually come back but it was easier to let her believe that way."

"Mommy!" You hear a small voice call for you, followed by small but quick footsteps.

Once he sees her Thor can't help but agree with Tony, that little girl looks just like him: blonde hair, blue eyes, same lips and she's slightly taller than average.

Andora stops as she sees the man standing next to you, then smiles and runs towards him.

"Daddy back!" She says happily, Thor picks her up and holds her against his chest.

"Yeah, daddy's back." He says gently, caressing her head as she wraps her legs around his waist.

You can't hold back the smile that forms on your face in seeing the two of them finally together, you wouldn't admit it but you hoped this day would come, letting your baby girl meet her dad.

The hours slip by since Thor walked back into your life.

Now, you're sitting in the living room, the low hum of the city outside barely a distraction from the tension between you and Thor. He sits across the room, his large frame somehow hunched, shoulders heavy with guilt. Andora is in his lap, babbling happily, her tiny fingers gripping a strand of his golden hair.

“Daddy! You have long hair! Mommy cuts mine. Maybe I cut yours?” she says, her words coming out in the sweet, muddled way toddlers speak.

Thor chuckles softly, a sound you haven't heard in so long. “Maybe not, little one. But I’m glad you like it.”

You watch them from the couch, arms crossed tightly over your chest, unsure of what to do with this scene. It’s surreal, seeing them together. Andora has taken to him faster than you thought, almost like she always knew he was meant to be here. After all the stories you’ve told her, the drawings you showed her, it’s as if she’s just meeting a long-lost friend.

But for you? This feels… complicated.

“Thor,” you say, breaking the relative silence. He looks up at you, eyes still soft with wonder as he holds his daughter. “Can we talk?”

He nods, and carefully lifts Andora off his lap, setting her down on the floor with her toys. “Why don’t you play with your dolls for a little while?” he suggests, ruffling her hair.

“’Kay!” she chirps, already distracted by her stuffed animals.

You watch her for a moment before turning your gaze back to Thor, your heart heavy. “This doesn’t change anything, you know.”

He looks at you with a mix of pain and hope. “I know,” he says quietly. “But I’m here now, Y/N. I’m not going to walk away again.”

Your fingers clench, tension rising in your chest. “You did walk away, though. You left. I needed you. She needed you.”

Thor’s expression crumbles a bit as you speak, and for a moment, the god of thunder looks as vulnerable as anyone else. “I thought you were dead, Y/N. Fury told me… he told me you were gone. I had no reason to come back.”

“And you didn’t question it?” Your voice trembles with the frustration you’ve been holding in for two years. “You didn’t try to find out more, to… I don’t know, feel something?”

He shakes his head, his blue eyes pleading for you to understand. “I was devastated. Losing you, believing I lost you, was unbearable. I didn’t have it in me to question anything. I…” He pauses, his hands tightening into fists. “I left because I couldn’t face a world without you.”

You close your eyes, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill. “You left me, Thor. You left us.”

There’s a silence that stretches between you, heavy and sharp. You feel him watching you, and it’s clear that this isn’t easy for him. But it wasn’t easy for you either. Raising Andora alone, carrying the weight of his absence… You’ve been strong for so long, but now, faced with him again, all of it is unraveling.

“I know I failed you,” Thor says softly, his voice thick with regret. “I failed you both. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but please… let me try to make it right. Let me be a father to her.”

His words hit you hard, and you glance over at Andora, who is now giggling softly as she talks to her toys. She’s only two, but she’s smart, more perceptive than you’d expect for her age. And she’s already fallen for Thor, without hesitation.

“Mommy?” Andora calls out, looking up at you with her wide, curious eyes. “Daddy stay? He read me stories?”

You swallow, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. She’s been asking for a real bedtime story from Thor since the moment she realized he was her father. And now she looks at you, her little face full of hope, so much like his.

“Maybe just one,” you finally say, your voice softer than before. You feel your resolve crumbling, just a little.

Thor smiles, his eyes glinting with gratitude as he stands up. “One story, then,” he says gently, moving over to where Andora sits. He lifts her into his arms with such care, holding her like she’s the most precious thing in the world. And to him, she probably is.

You follow them down the hall to Andora’s room, leaning against the doorframe as Thor settles into a chair, Andora perched on his knee, listening intently as he begins to tell her one of the stories you’ve read to her countless times. But this time, it’s different.

This time, it’s coming from him.

“Once, in the great kingdom of Asgard,” Thor begins, his deep voice soft but powerful, drawing Andora in completely. Her tiny hands clutch his arm, her blue eyes—so much like his—wide with fascination. You can’t help but watch, your heart torn between the pain of the past and the warmth of seeing them together now.

As the story goes on, Andora starts to yawn, her eyelids growing heavy. Thor’s voice quiets, and he gently places her down in her bed, tucking her in with a tenderness that surprises you. He brushes a kiss to her forehead, whispering something you can’t hear.

When he stands up, he glances at you, and for the first time tonight, you don’t feel the anger burning as fiercely inside you. You’re still hurt, still unsure if you can trust him. But you can see the love in his eyes—for Andora, for you—and maybe, just maybe, it’s enough to give him a chance.

“We’ll see,” you whisper, your voice steady this time, as you meet his gaze. “But it’s going to take time.”

Three Months Later

Thor stands on the balcony of Stark Tower, watching the city lights flicker like stars beneath him. The wind whips through his long hair, but his mind is far from the bustling streets below. He’s thinking about you—how much has changed in these past three months and how much still hasn’t.

You’ve let him be part of Andora’s life, and for that, he’s grateful beyond measure. He never tires of spending time with his daughter, watching her discover the world around her, a world she’s already learning to shape in ways neither of you expected. The first time she summoned water from the sink to swirl around her tiny hand, she had giggled, thinking it was a game. But Thor knew what it meant—Andora had inherited powers, like him, but tied to water.

It was a gift, one that both scared and amazed you. You’ve been trying to help her control it, and Thor has been there every step of the way, guiding her when she calls the rain or forms droplets into little shapes to show you. He loves seeing the pride in her eyes when she succeeds, and the way she lights up when she knows her father is proud too.

But his heart aches for more.

He knows you still hold back, keeping a wall up between the two of you. The pain from his disappearance lingers, even though you’ve allowed him back into Andora’s life. You’re kind, even friendly sometimes, but you’re cautious, and he understands why. Thor wants to fix it—no, needs to fix it—but he isn’t sure how.

That’s where Tony Stark comes in.

“You’ve got that brooding god face again, Blondie,” Tony’s voice breaks through Thor’s thoughts, pulling him back to the present. He turns to see Tony stepping onto the balcony, a glass of whiskey in one hand and his signature smirk in place.

Thor sighs, leaning against the railing. “It is not so simple, Stark.”

Tony takes a sip, then looks at Thor with a raised eyebrow. “Let me guess. You’re thinking about Y/N.”

Thor grunts in agreement, his gaze shifting back to the city. “She has allowed me to be part of Andora’s life. But with her… things are still… strained. I fear I’ve lost her.”

Tony lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “You haven’t lost her. She’s just… you know, dealing with the whole ‘you thought she was dead’ thing. Which, if I’m being honest, is a pretty big hurdle to get over.”

Thor doesn’t argue. He knows Tony is right. Still, there’s a flicker of hope deep inside him, and he refuses to give up on the love he once had with you.

“I want to make things right,” Thor says, his voice low. “But I do not know how to win her heart again.”

Tony taps his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “You’re asking for my help? You want the great Tony Stark to play matchmaker?”

Thor rolls his eyes. “I seek your advice, not your… matchmaking skills.”

Tony grins, leaning against the balcony next to Thor. “Well, lucky for you, I happen to be an expert in charming the ladies.”

“I believe Pepper might disagree.”

Tony waves his hand dismissively. “Details, details. What I’m saying is, Y/N doesn’t need some grand gesture or heroic display. She’s already seen you in battle, she knows you’re a god. What she needs is to see that you care about the little things—the human stuff.”

Thor frowns. “The… human stuff?”

“Yeah, you know, things that show her you’re paying attention to her, not just showing off your lightning powers.” Tony pauses, then his face lights up. “Start small. Do things that’ll make her day easier. Watch Andora when she’s busy, cook a meal. And for God’s sake, talk to her. Like, really talk.”

Thor considers this for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. He’s always been a man of action, of grand gestures and battles fought. But this—what Tony is suggesting—seems almost… simple. And yet, maybe that’s what you need.

“Show her you’re here for the long haul,” Tony adds, clapping Thor on the shoulder. “You’re not the guy who left. You’re the guy who’s staying. You want her to fall in love with that version of you.”

Thor looks at Tony, a spark of determination flickering in his chest. “I will try your way, Stark. But if this fails—”

“If this fails,” Tony interrupts, “then we’ll regroup and come up with Plan B. But trust me, this is a good start.”

With renewed resolve, Thor nods, already imagining what small things he could do for you. He’s going to show you, step by step, that he’s different now. That he’s staying. He watches Tony head back inside, his mind racing with possibilities.

Suddenly, a small splash of water hits his foot. He looks down to see Andora toddling over, a grin on her face as she holds her hand up, a little ball of water swirling around her fingers.

“Daddy! Look!” she squeals, the ball of water growing a little larger before she accidentally loses control of it, splashing them both.

Thor laughs, scooping her up into his arms. “Very impressive, little one.”

“Mommy says I gotta practice,” she babbles, resting her head against his shoulder. “I gonna make a big water dragon someday!”

Thor smiles, holding her close. “I’m sure you will. But for now, perhaps we keep the dragons small.”

Andora giggles, and Thor can’t help but feel a surge of love for the little girl in his arms.

He glances toward the living room, where you’re sitting, unaware of the plan forming in his mind. It’s time for him to win back your heart, not as the god of thunder, but as the man who loves you. The man who’s staying.

Time skip

You never thought you'd see Thor again, much less have him back in your life, trying so hard to be part of it. At first, you were cautious, walls built high around your heart to protect yourself from the hurt he caused when he left. But he’s been… different since he came back. Patient, steady, and genuinely trying to make amends.

At first, it was little things. He’d take over watching Andora when you were swamped with work or needed a break. You’d find him and your daughter sitting at the kitchen table, her face lit up with glee as he conjured tiny rainstorms to entertain her. Once, you walked in to find him brushing Andora’s hair and telling her stories about his adventures in Asgard, his deep voice soothing as she giggled at the funny parts.

It warmed your heart, even though you resisted. You couldn’t let yourself fall for him again so easily, no matter how much seeing him with Andora softened you.

Then, there were the moments that took you by surprise. One evening, after a particularly rough day, you came home to find dinner already prepared. Thor stood in the kitchen, awkwardly stirring a pot of stew. It wasn’t perfect—he had clearly overcooked it, and there was a mess of flour and spices all over the counter—but it was the thought that floored you.

“You made this?” you asked, half-amused, half-shocked.

He looked at you sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. “I wanted to help. You’ve done so much already. I thought I could… make things a little easier.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you sat down at the table, watching him try so hard to do something that came so naturally to you. It was messy, imperfect, and yet… it was endearing. You didn’t say much that night, but something inside you softened.

Then there was the day Andora first lost control of her water powers in a big way. She had been excited, showing you how she could make water rise from her cup, but it spiraled out of control quickly. Water splashed across the floor, soaking the both of you. You were already tired and overwhelmed, and the last thing you needed was another mess to clean up.

Before you could even react, Thor swooped in, kneeling beside Andora with a gentle smile. “It’s alright, little one,” he said softly, as Andora’s lip quivered. “We’ll clean it up together. You’re doing so well.”

He didn’t reprimand her, didn’t get frustrated. He just helped her calm down, his presence soothing her like magic. And then, he cleaned up the mess himself, all while making sure Andora felt safe and proud of what she could do.

You watched him with your daughter, feeling that wall around your heart crack a little more.

Little by little, Thor chipped away at the barriers you’d built between you. He never pushed, never demanded your forgiveness, but he was always there—steady, dependable, the man you’d fallen in love with so long ago.

There were nights when you’d sit together on the balcony after Andora went to bed, the city lights stretching out before you. Sometimes, neither of you said a word. Other times, he’d tell you about his travels across the realms, how he had thought of you every day, and how lost he felt when he believed you were gone. He didn’t ask for anything in return—just your company. And slowly, you found yourself wanting to be there with him.

One evening, after Andora had fallen asleep in Thor’s lap, her little hand clutching his, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d spent the evening together, the three of you, and it had felt… natural. Like a family.

As Thor carried Andora to bed, you watched him tuck her in with such care, brushing a kiss to her forehead before turning to leave her room. When he saw you standing in the doorway, a warm look passed between you, one that made your chest tighten.

Later that night, as you sat beside him on the couch, the quiet between you was comfortable, not strained like it once had been. You turned to him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Thor?”

He looked at you, his eyes soft and filled with that familiar warmth. “Yes, Y/N?”

You took a deep breath, unsure of how to say what had been weighing on you for so long. “I’ve been trying to figure this out… figure us out. And I’ve realized something.”

His expression tensed slightly, as if bracing himself for what you were about to say. “What is it?”

You hesitated, then reached out, your hand finding his. “I don’t want to hold onto the past anymore. I don’t want to keep punishing you—or myself—for what happened. You’ve changed. You’re here. And… I’m ready to try again. If you are.”

The relief that washed over his face was palpable, his grip on your hand tightening. “I never stopped wanting to try, Y/N. I never stopped loving you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and for the first time in so long, you let yourself truly feel it again—the love you had for him. The love that had been buried under hurt and fear but had never really gone away. You leaned in, resting your forehead against his, the closeness grounding you.

“I love you too,” you whispered, the words freeing in a way you hadn’t expected.

Thor closed his eyes, his breath shuddering as if he had been holding it for years. And when his lips met yours, it was gentle, almost tentative, like he was still afraid of breaking something fragile. But the kiss deepened, and with it, the certainty that you were no longer broken. You were healing—together.

Six Months Later

The sound of Andora’s laughter fills the air as you sit together in the park, watching her chase after a small stream of water she’s controlling with her tiny hands. She’s gotten better at it, thanks to Thor’s guidance. Now, instead of accidents, she’s able to play, the water swirling in graceful patterns around her.

“Daddy! Mommy! Look!” she squeals, sending the water into the shape of a dragon, just as she had promised months ago.

Thor grins, standing beside you with an arm draped over your shoulder. “That’s my girl,” he says proudly, watching as Andora beams with pride.

You smile, leaning into him, feeling the weight of everything that’s happened between you lift away. You’re not perfect—there are still moments when the past catches up, when doubts creep in—but you’re moving forward, together.

And as you watch your daughter run toward you, her little face full of joy and confidence, you know that this is the family you always dreamed of. A family that wasn’t just held together by love but built on trust, forgiveness, and the decision to keep trying.

Thor presses a kiss to the top of your head, his voice soft in your ear. “I will love you both for all of my days.”

You smile, resting your hand over his. “And we’ll love you for all of ours.”

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